The strongest force in the universe is the bond that holds an atom together, forming the basis for all matter in the universe.

The second strongest force in the universe is the bond between a politician and his campaign contributions, forming the basis of perpetual re-election.

Which is why the stampede of politicians divesting themselves of campaign donations from imploding energy trading company Enron is so remarkable.

All across the nation, elected officials high and low are pledging to give up this cash and donate it to one worthy cause or another -- a charity, a public pension that lost money on Enron stock, or a fund to be set up to help the thousands of former Enron employees who lost their jobs and their life savings when the company tanked.

Among these politicians are J. Dennis Hastert of Illinois, Republican speaker of the U.S. House, who plans to give $9,000 he received from Enron between 1998 and 2001 to the devastated former employees of the company. But that's nothing compared with New York Democratic Sen. Charles Schumer, who says he'll give up a whopping $68,857.

New York's other Democratic senator, Hillary Rodham Clinton, has pledged to shed $8,000. Sens. Kay Bailey Hutchison, R-Texas, and John McCain, R-Arizona, have done likewise.

Joining this crew is Republican Elizabeth Dole, who hasn't actually been elected to anything but who did accept a $5,000 donation from Enron chief Kenneth L. Lay in her bid to replace retiring Republican North Carolina Sen. Jesse Helms.

Closer to home, Ohio Attorney General Betty D. Montgomery, state Auditor Jim Petro and Gov. Bob Taft all have announced they will donate their Enron contributions to one worthy cause or another. State Development Director Bruce E. Johnson says he'll give back the $2,000 he got from Enron back when he still was a state senator.

So will Republican U.S. Reps. Deborah Pryce of Perry Township, Pat Tiberi of Columbus and Bob Ney of St. Clairsville.

But this is not to say that any of these politicians are obligated to return Enron donations. They're not. Those donations were received legally and aboveboard, according to the rules laid down by Congress and the Federal Election Commission.

As yet, there is no evidence that any recipient knew that Enron management was playing a shell game with company finances. Nor are politicians obligated to launch full- scale financial investigations of those from whom they receive contributions.

But returning the money is a smart move, politically, playing well with the vast majority of voters whose sympathies naturally lie with all those ex-Enron employees who were stiffed by their top bosses.

In fact, relinquishing the money probably is buying more good publicity than the cash itself ever could buy in a conventional political ad campaign. Those politicians who choose not to give back their Enron money aren't wrong or bad. They're just not as good at cost-benefit analysis.