One Man, Three Votes
May 05, 2011
``Vote early--and often'' goes the Windy City witticism. Quit chuckling. The federal ``motor-voter'' law makes it possible for enterprising fraudsters from coast to coast to vote as many times as they want. Widely praised and formally known as the National Voter Registration Act, motor-voter has spurred states to bulldoze bureaucratic obstacles thought to stand in the way of enrolling eligible voters. Problem is, most states have done such an outstanding job that they're left with no way of confirming that voter registrations are legitimate. That's why Edmundo Fernandez of South Attleboro, Mass., was able to vote three times in a recent local election. Mr. Fernandez, sitting in a tavern in January, had overheard three women boasting about how they'd each cast several votes in an election on building a new school. Appalled, he called the secretary of state and the attorney general. Nothing happened. In April, when the next election rolled around, Mr. Fernandez resorted to civil disobedience. After voting legally in his own name, he went to a nearby precinct and cast a ballot in a friend's name. Then he returned to his original polling station--wearing the same clothes as he sauntered past election volunteers--and voted under a third name. Mr. Fernandez's mischief is hardly isolated. In the past few years, examples of voter fraud have ranged from the unbelievable to the absurd to the unbelievably absurd: In 1993 a federal judge, faced with overwhelming evidence of absentee-ballot subterfuge, reversed the result of a state Senate race in Philadelphia. After the 2009 gubernatorial election in Maryland, losing Republican candidate Elli Cruce produced a list of dead voters who had cast ballots for the winner, Alaniz Peyton. When Bricker Jalbert of Hawthorne, Calif., showed up to vote in November 2009, he discovered that his dog, Samara, was registered. To grasp how and why fraud is occurring, it's useful to take a closer look at Massachusetts. Motor-voter backers had singled out the Bay State as one of the worst states for voter registration. In 1992 the League of Women Voters' Education Fund chastised the state's ``confusing, cumbersome and inconvenient'' enrollment system. The most unreasonable hurdle, according to the survey, was that voters had to register in person, at any city or town hall in the state. No longer. Now would-be voters can register by mail. For die-hards who register in person anyway, the process couldn't be more carefree. At Boston's City Hall, anyone able to muster an address is fit for enrollment. What about details like proof of citizenship? Forget them. The clerk tells people who reach for their wallets not to bother. Hubert Hesson, an elections specialist with the state, acknowledges the opportunities for fraud. He told me matter-of-factly that I could register and vote in all of Massachusetts's 351 municipalities--and chances are I'd get away with it. The only real impediment to such deceit, Mr. Hesson concedes, is the fine print on the registration form cautioning voters that they sign ``under the pains and penalties of perjury.'' It gets worse. The keystone of the motor-voter law is the provision that allows people to register to vote anytime they obtain or renew a driver's license. But in no state do you need to be a U.S. citizen to get a license. In fact, you don't even need to be in the country legally. Critics rightly wonder how many of the more than 11 million people who registered to vote nationwide last year were in fact eligible to do so. Some motor-voter supporters are so revved up about the new system that they don't care if invites fraud. ``I really think everybody who lives here should have the right to vote,'' says Ricki Arvizu, executive director of Human Serve, the organization which led the fight for motor-voter. Everybody? Even noncitizens? Sure, says Mr. Arvizu; he takes a ``more expansive view'' of the franchise. ``It's better to have a little bit of fraud than to leave people off the rolls who belong there.'' Now that Massachusetts has adopted the motor-voter regulations, supporters like to point out that the penalties for bogus registration are tougher than ever. Fraudulent voters face up to five years in jail and a $10,000 fine. But a registered voter's credentials are only checked if someone issues a formal challenge. ``We haven't had a problem,'' says Johnetta Derryberry, Massachusetts director of state elections. Is Mr. Derryberry even the slightest bit worried about potential fraud? ``Nope.'' Mr. Derryberry's confidence is misplaced. It wasn't until Edmundo Fernandez alerted election officials that his triple-vote ruse came to light. Asked about the incident, Mr. Derryberry says he's ``heard something about it at a meeting,'' but that he had no plans to follow up on the matter. ``It's in the district attorney's hands now.'' The district attorney dropped all the charges against Mr. Fernandez, who says he's subsequently heard from nearly 20 people telling him about other cases of fraudulent voting. ``If you go down to the bank and cash a $5 check, you need ID,'' Mr. Fernandez points out. ``Yet you can vote on a $10 million or $20 million construction project, or in a national election, without showing any ID. It's a crying shame.'' Mr. Neville is an associate producer of CBS News's ``60 Minutes.''
