Aggressive Tactics Denied : Speaker’s Fund-Raiser: Lobbyists Pay--’or Else’

The postscript on Assembly Speaker Willie Brown’s letter to Capitol lobbyists announcing his $550-a-ticket fund-raising dinner contained a message that was easy for them to translate.

The P.S. said simply, “Our Assembly leadership and I have designated this dinner as our singular most important event for this year.”

Observed one lobbyist, who declined to be identified: “That really means you’d better buy a ticket--or else.”

The “or else,” in this lobbyist’s view, was sure trouble for any bills being pushed by lobbyists who did not buy tickets to the Speaker’s dinner on Dec. 1 at the Century Plaza Hotel in Los Angeles.

“Retaliation is not unheard of in things like this,” said another lobbyist who, like all the people interviewed for this story, insisted upon anonymity.

Those views are “ridiculous and false,” said Richard Ross, Brown’s chief of staff. “If people are making accusations like that, with legal implications, they ought to go to the appropriate authorities and not to the newspapers,” Ross said. “They ought to go to the district attorney.”

The letter from the Democratic Speaker was just one example--though clearly the most striking--of the aggressive fund raising that has spread through the Capitol as incumbent legislators try to fatten their political coffers for next year’s reelection campaigns.

More than half of the 120 members of the Assembly and Senate held fund-raising cocktail parties or dinners during the final month of the 1985 legislative session, when many of the bills dearest to the lobbyists’ hearts were up for do-or-die votes.

“Campaign contributions may be legalized bribery. If money didn’t make a difference, nobody would be giving any,” a lobbyist said.

During an interview, one lobbyist opened up his private date book for Aug. 19 to Sept. 14 to show that he had received 61 invitations to fund-raisers during those final four weeks of the session. Tickets ranged from $100 to $1,000 and could have cost a total of $27,160 if all had been accepted.

For one night alone, Monday, Aug. 26, the lobbyist was invited to seven $500 events--$3,500 worth. He dropped in on four of them, an evening that cost his various clients $2,000.

Another lobbyist, talking about the frantic fund raising of lawmakers as they approached the climax of their legislative session, explained: “The big bills of the session are always last. That’s why they (legislators) had this going-out-of-business fire sale or whatever the hell it was. Everything that is left is important and up for grabs.”

“At one point, at the height of all this,” the lobbyist continued, “I was running like $5,000 a week, and I’m not anything like the top 10 or 15 or 20 lobbyists around here. I’m not even in the same league with those people.”

Sharing the Wealth

Brown’s dinner will commemorate the fifth anniversary of his election by the Assembly to the powerful post of Speaker. The San Francisco Democrat has not had a serious challenge to his reelection in many years. So, as is the practice with legislative leaders, he will take the hundreds of thousands of dollars he raises with the dinner and dole it out to Democratic allies for their reelection campaigns.

Raising campaign funds for his friends and protecting them from defeat on Election Day is regarded by the Assembly as any Speaker’s first duty. The seriousness with which Brown accepts this obligation was reflected in the tone of his invitation to the lobbyists, for whom any personal access to the Speaker is invaluable.

“I would be most pleased and honored by your presence at this MOST SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY PARTY,” the letter said. “The celebration includes a gourmet dinner, special guests, music for dancing and my sincere desire to share this exciting evening with you. . . .

“I look forward to your presence and to this opportunity to speak with you personally.”

Accompanying Brown’s letter, in an envelope marked “personal,” was a note that began, “This is not a solicitation but only to advise you that I am having my major fund-raising dinner. . . .”

It went on, however, to list the prices for a single dinner ticket and for a table for 10--$5,500--with the telephone number and address to use for reservations.

‘Doesn’t Scare Me’

Another lobbyist said with false bravado, “That letter doesn’t scare me one bit, because we get those things by the ton.” He quickly added, “I’ll probably recommend to my clients that we buy a ticket or two if I get a call from the Speaker or one of his top lieutenants.”

There is very little doubt that the lobbyist will receive such a follow-up call, because that is the way the campaign fund-raising game is played in Sacramento.

The stakes are particularly high for legislative leaders like Brown and Senate President Pro Tem David A. Roberti (D-Los Angeles), who attempt to amass large amounts of money that can be doled out to politically needy legislators in return for future IOUs that will keep the leaders in power.

Legislators with lesser power bases also are anxious to build up their campaign war chests. For them, the aim is to scare off potential opponents or to stockpile funds for some future run for higher office.

In recent years, more and more fund-raisers have been held in Sacramento instead of in the legislators’ home districts. The main reason is that Sacramento is home base for the lobbyists, the guardians of special interest money.

Ban Overturned

In 1974, in the wake of the Watergate scandals, California voters passed Proposition 9, a sweeping political reform initiative. Among other things, that measure prohibited lobbyists from contributing to political campaigns or from arranging for the donations. The provision was overturned in 1976 by the state Supreme Court, and the soliciting of lobbyists for campaign funds has been increasing ever since.

“The number of campaign fund-raising events here has grown at an explosive rate because it works,” a lobbyist said. “The legislators have realized that no matter how many invitations they send out, how many dinners they have, how many cocktail parties there are, that somebody always shows up with a check--a lot of somebodies.”

A spokesman for the Fair Political Practices Commission estimated that 70% to 75% of legislative campaign contributions come from special interest groups that employ lobbyists, as opposed to individuals who live in the districts.

Times staff writer Carl Ingram also contributed to this story.