OPINION: Alaska’s delegation wants you to look away

Published 7:30 am Monday, July 6, 2026

No heist in recorded history compares to what Donald Trump has pulled off. He did not rob a bank or loot a treasury. He captured the government itself, turned its instruments toward private gain, and convinced enough people to call it leadership. What is unfolding in Washington is not ordinary misconduct. It is systematic plunder on a scale rarely witnessed.

On June 23, Senator Chris Murphy delivered his “500 Days of Corruption” speech on the Senate floor, describing what he called “nuclear-grade corruption” and sustained self-dealing during Trump’s second term. Murphy accused the president of using the powers of office to reward allies, advance personal financial interests, and blur the line between public duty and private gain.

Trump did not merely tolerate corruption. He normalized it, institutionalized it, and rewarded it. He turned loyalty into currency and government into a private enterprise. Systems like that do not run on one man alone. They depend on officials willing to confirm, excuse, and carry them forward. In Alaska, Senator Dan Sullivan and Representative Nick Begich have helped sustain that system.

Sullivan’s role is not rhetorical. It is measured in votes.

Every Cabinet secretary, senior executive official, and federal judge who implements a president’s agenda reaches office only after Senate approval. Sullivan has consistently supported Trump’s nominees, supplying votes to install officials who carry out administration policy across the federal government. Presidents set direction. The Senate provides the personnel.

That distinction matters. Corruption at the top is rarely self-contained. It requires an institutional chain that allows loyalty to override independence. Without Senate consent, much of that machinery would not function. Sullivan has been part of that consent.

He has said he does not support Trump’s proposed 1776 compensation fund and would not seek any benefit tied to legislation involving FBI subpoenas of senators’ phone records. Those positions address narrow controversies. They do not change his broader record of support for Trump’s governing apparatus.

Representative Nick Begich plays a different role, but one no less consequential.

Begich has become a leading advocate for cryptocurrency while holding a substantial personal Bitcoin stake reportedly valued at roughly $760,000. He is not observing the system from a distance. He is participating in it while helping shape the policies that govern it.

That presents a conflict in plain view.

Cryptocurrency is often framed as innovation, but Bitcoin mining consumes large amounts of electricity and water and places strain on energy infrastructure. At the same time, Trump has become a significant player in the emerging crypto economy, with business interests positioned to benefit from its expansion. Federal oversight of the sector has weakened, reducing constraints on fraud and allowing abuse to spread more easily. Combined with crypto’s continued use in fraud schemes, ransomware, and money laundering, these trends raise a broader question: whether public policy is being shaped in the public interest or aligned with private gain at the highest levels of power.

When a lawmaker stands to benefit personally from the policies he promotes, voters are entitled to ask whose interests are being served.

He writes the policy. He owns the asset. He profits if it rises.

That is the defining pattern of modern political corruption: public office used as a vehicle for private gain.

Sullivan and Begich do not mirror each other, but they reinforce the same outcome. Sullivan provides institutional support for the personnel who execute a president’s agenda. Begich promotes a policy space in which he has direct financial exposure. One enables the system. The other stands to benefit from it.

This is how modern political power sustains itself: not only through dramatic abuses, but through routine confirmations, strategic silence, and the gradual lowering of expectations about what is acceptable in public office. Democracies rarely fail in a single moment. They erode through repetition.

Formal articles of impeachment have already been introduced. Representative John Larson has advanced a 13-article resolution charging Trump with abuses of power, corruption, and constitutional violations. Murphy’s Senate speech and Larson’s resolution serve the same purpose: to draw a line between public service and private enrichment.

History rarely remembers only the architect of a political scandal. It also remembers those who supplied the votes, confirmed the appointees, defended the conduct, and looked away when accountability was required.

No heist in recorded history compares to what Donald Trump has pulled off. Someday Alaskans will ask where their senator and congressman stood while it unfolded. The answer is already on the record.

Van Abbott is a 36-year resident of Alaska having worked in Ketchikan, Fairbanks and Anchorage as a municipal, financial and utility manager. He resides in Ketchikan and is currently a freelance writer. He served as a Peace Corps teacher in the 1960s. See his website: politicalwinds.org.