WILL MIKE FIGHT?
By Alan Farnham

(FORTUNE Magazine) – He's been vilified. He's been indicted. If you were Michael Milken, what would you do? Fight like the devil? Some pundits seem to discount this possibility, speculating that Milken will settle with the government rather than go to trial. That discounts a revolutionary possibility: He might be innocent. Think about it. He's presumed innocent, of course -- but what if he were innocent? He'd surely be mad enough to fight. ''Being separated from my life's work,'' says Milken, ''is an extremely difficult step.'' Milken needn't be innocent to demand trial, though; believing he is innocent might be enough. He might feel that clearing his name is worth suffering any indignity. Does Milken so believe? Those who claim to know him well say yes -- his belief is adamantine. They say honor is not less important to him than money. Does Milken have what it takes to shoot it out at high noon in a dusty courthouse, after Drexel's summer associates and full-time weenies have fled? Sure he does. His eyes return his critics' gaze without apology. His grip is steely, his posture is erect. His very hairpiece seems to say, ''Wanna make something of it?'' His birthdate: July 4. Even a culpable Milken might opt for trial. None protest their innocence so vehemently, after all, as the incontrovertibly guilty. Consider the case of Oscar Wilde. The Marquis of Queensberry called the writer a ''somdomite'' (sic), and Wilde -- a somdomite if there ever was one -- sued for libel. That the charge was true seemed not to vex him. Perhaps Milken -- himself proud, self-righteous, a showman (and no somdomite) -- seeks a vindication no settlement can give. In practical terms, Milken may have little to lose and much to gain by forcing a trial. If he wins, he clears his name, keeps his money, and lives with head held high. If he settles, he might just as well pin a sign to his back saying kick me. He would probably have to admit some guilt, assisting angry investors in suing him to death. Drexel apparently settled not because it lacked funds to fight, but because it willingly subordinated pride to obligation: For one thing, the jobs of 10,000 workers, most of them blameless, were at stake. If Milken operates under such an onus, however, it is small and private: He has only his family to consider. Would fear for his family's welfare force Milken to settle? It seems unlikely -- not because Milken is cavalier, but because his family's bills could easily be paid even if his assets were frozen. The Milkens, for all their wealth, live relatively modestly. If Oliver North's supporters can keep their hero in bus fare and Pop-Tarts, how much more could the Milkens expect from their own, far richer supporters? When a man's friends have fortunes, he doesn't need many to see him through his troubles.