Dissident Assembly Democrats : Sacramento Feels Impact of ‘Gang of Five’ Uprising

Standing amid the stately trappings of the Assembly chamber, Steve Peace struck a defiant pose. His mouth moving at lightning speed, the Chula Vista lawmaker gestured wildly, jabbing his finger in the air in a manner typical of an emotionally charged debate.

But there was no debate. The chamber, in fact, was nearly empty except for Peace and four fellow members of the rebel “Gang of Five,” who posed nearby as a photographer captured the moment for a group portrait.

Watching intently on the sidelines, Speaker Pro Tem Mike Roos (D-Los Angeles) cast a disdainful glance at the scene, grumbling about how he and other Democrats spent two hours locked in discussions that very morning while these lawmakers were mugging for the cameras. “I guess it’s a case of life imitating art,” Roos lamented.

So began another day for the Capitol’s most celebrated--and most hated--cabal.

Called the “Five Amigos” by its few Capitol supporters and derided as the “The Gang that Couldn’t Shoot Straight” by some of its harshest critics, the band of rebel lawmakers has a lot more time these days for picture taking and the like.

Speaker Willie Brown, embarrassed by the serious challenge to his authority by the five moderate to conservative Democrats, declared each persona non grata and ordered up a large dose of the Capitol’s peculiar form of punishment.

In a town where office size and parking-stall location are the signposts of status, these lawmakers were banished to closet-sized quarters on floors usually reserved for freshmen. Stripped of their prized committee assignments and left with skeleton staffs, about all they have left is time to plot the Speaker’s downfall.

“That’s exactly what we are doing,” boasted gang member Rusty Areias, a wealthy, 38-year-old dairyman from the San Joaquin Valley town of Los Banos.

“There is nothing else they can do to us. . . . It frees us up to move around the state and work on our programs of bringing about meaningful campaign reform and institutional reforms. To achieve those may result in his demise.”

Growing Disillusionment

As the gang members tell it, their transition from loyal insiders to unruly political rebels is a story of growing disillusionment under a Speaker who espouses a “ ‘60s liberal agenda” and uses the power of his office to enforce that agenda to the detriment of millions of moderate California Democrats.

In his more than seven years as Speaker--the longest anyone has held the post--Brown has never faced so serious an assault on his power. With Democrats holding a 43-36 margin over Republicans, the dissidents have used their five votes in a game of political brinkmanship, joining with the GOP to push through legislation that for years has been smothered in committees packed by Brown loyalists.

In recent weeks, the rebels have succeeded in pushing through legislation requiring prostitutes to be tested for AIDS, banning pornographic material from some newsstands and expanding the death penalty to include child murderers. It was the first time in more than a decade that a death-penalty bill has cleared the Assembly.

In what may be the cruelest irony for Brown, the five--Peace, Areias, Gary Condit of Ceres, Gerald Eaves of Rialto and Charles M. Calderon of Alhambra--are all one-time beneficiaries of the Speaker’s largess, rewarded with top leadership positions and seats on influential committees.

“They’re just the most outrageous collection of ungrateful people I’ve ever met,” Brown told a press conference last week.

Brown for a long time tried to dismiss the gang as a product of media hype. But those close to him concede that his strategy has flopped, and they predict the rebellion will last at least through the November election.

“The only chance we had (to stop the dissidents) was early on and that effort failed,” said Majority Leader Thomas M. Hannigan of Fairfield.

Brown put it this way: “I don’t know what else I could do. What I’m thinking is illegal.”

The uprising has left no one at the Capitol untouched, including the GOP, which ought to be rejoicing over its legislative victories.

Yet after years of vilifying Brown as a symbol of all that is wrong with the Legislature, Republicans are reluctant to join with the rebel Democrats to dump him. Now they must walk a political tightrope as constituents ask what is going on.

‘Getting Me Wet’

“They’re like a bunch of skunks spraying in every direction,” Assembly GOP Leader Pat Nolan of Glendale said of the dissidents. “The problem is, they’re getting me wet, too.”

As the dissidents see it, these problems are the unavoidable shock waves of needed change.

“Those of us who are of a more moderate persuasion, from rural and suburban districts, were determined to play a role and influence policy and that can be painful,” Areias said.

In a refrain echoed by each of his fellow dissidents, Calderon said of Brown and his lieutenants: “They are a generation whose values were born in the ‘60s, tried in the ‘70s and abandoned in the ‘80s.”

It is an empty refrain to the Assembly’s political establishment--Democrats as well as many top Republicans--who regard the gang’s high-minded pronouncements as a smoke screen to cover a simple lust for power.

‘Want to Take Power’

“They decided they wanted to make a name for themselves by challenging Willie Brown,” declared Los Angeles Democratic Assemblywoman Maxine Waters, a close friend and adviser to the Speaker. “None of what they are saying holds any water to anyone who is watching what is going on. . . . They just want to take power.”

The prize is a rich one.

Unlike the Senate, where the president pro tem shares power with a five-member Rules Committee, which he chairs, the Assembly Speaker can hand out favors at whim--not just good parking spaces and big offices but seats on committees where laws are shaped. And he decides who chairs those committees.

Since the Jesse M. Unruh speakership of the 1960s, the office also has functioned as the central collection point for special-interest contributions, making many lawmakers strongly dependent on the Speaker for the campaign money they need to stay in office.

By carefully using all of this authority, speakers such as Unruh and Brown have been able to wield great influence over the state’s legislative agenda, a power second only to that of the governor.

For now, however, members of the rebel gang must deal with life as political outcasts.

Hostile Flare-Ups

There are the whispered insults in the Capitol hallways and the frequent hostile flare-ups in closed-door caucus meetings that gang members insist are “scripted and choreographed” by Brown.

“It varies from week to week,” Peace said. “One week it was ‘good cop’ week, and Willie made sure he sat next to us all the time. The week before that it was ‘evil stare’ week.”

There also are the private caucus meetings at Ricky’s Grill, a chic eatery overlooking the Sacramento River. “Ricky’s Caucuses,” as they have become known, are strictly by invitation--no “gang” members allowed.

Then there were the carpenters who showed up one day in Calderon’s office to measure for a wall that would cut his working space in half. The plan was put on hold after a newspaper showed interest in printing a story on government waste. But after a recent vitriolic confrontation on the Assembly floor between Calderon and Brown’s lieutenants, the carpenters were seen poking their heads into Calderon’s office again, and the Alhambra lawmaker is sure the wall is on its way.

Meted Out Punishment

Most Byzantine of all has been the way Brown has meted out his punishment, targeting one or two rebel Democrats at a time, leaving the rest waiting for the next shoe to fall.

On one recent day, Brown ordered Eaves moved to a smaller office at the same time that he announced Eaves’ new seat on the Assembly Human Services Committee. To make room for him, fellow rebel Calderon was fired from the panel.

“Early on there was a strategy to try to drive a wedge between the five of us,” Condit said. “They found out their efforts were in vain.”

The punishment, in fact, appeared to backfire. Although the dissidents were reluctant at first to embrace the Gang of Five moniker, today they revel in their self-image of outsiders battling a lazy and sometimes corrupt system.

Forms Political Group

They have formed their own statewide political organization, with the impressive title “New California Leadership Council,” hired a San Diego political consultant with a reputation for vicious campaign attacks and are running their own candidate in the June 7 primary race for a seat now held by Norwalk Republican Wayne Grisham.

Some of the gang have become virtual heroes in their districts, where they have learned the art of playing to the crowds.

Last month, for example, more than 1,000 of Areias’ constituents from western Merced County plunked down $35,000 at a Los Banos fund-raiser appropriately titled, “Live With the Gang of Five.” On display was a large photo of the Speaker bearing the caption, “Why me, God?”

Said Areias: “If you are looking for the architects or creators of the Gang of Five, I think that distinction belongs to Willie Brown and those members who demanded he rein us in. We realized from the start that the only chance we have is to stick together.”

Disparate Group

Although inseparable these days--often eating all their meals together daily at the same upscale downtown Sacramento restaurant--the gang remains a disparate group.

Its philosophical leader, Peace, 35, is a non-stop talker. Abrasive, sometimes arrogant and temperamental, he is a political wheeler-dealer who has served on three of the Assembly’s most powerful committees. Outside the Legislature, Peace is a film maker best known for producing and co-starring in the cult movie, “Attack of the Killer Tomatoes.” Just last year, Peace had decided to throw in the towel and quit the Legislature but now says he is more committed than ever.

Areias, 38, by contrast is charming, smooth and controlled. Somewhat more liberal than his colleagues, he served as chairman of the Governmental Organization and Consumer Protection Committee and says he owes his political career to the inspiration of Democratic civil rights activists. A smart dresser and sports car enthusiast, Areias once appeared in Cosmopolitan magazine as its “hunk of the month.”

Hub for Others

Condit, who shares an Assembly district boundary with Areias, appears to be the hub around which the others revolve. The son of a Baptist minister, Condit, 40, retains the soft Oklahoma accent that he picked up during his youth as an oil field roughneck. By the end of his first term, Condit had been named assistant majority leader, then two years later he was rewarded with the chairmanship of the Government Organization Committee, considered a plum post from which to raise campaign contributions.

Similarly, Calderon, 38, was Brown’s majority whip and held posts on several powerful committees, including Ways and Means, the panel through which all money-spending bills must pass. Yet associates say he was bitter that the Speaker refused to name him chairman of the Finance and Insurance Committee after he successfully pushed major legislation to open California banking to out of state institutions. Sometimes sullen and suspicious, Calderon admits that he initially thought Peace and Condit were sent by Brown to trap him.

At 48, Eaves is the oldest and most reserved member of the dissidents. A former steel worker and Rialto mayor, Eaves said he was originally drawn to the other rebels because of social contacts but then realized that he shared a common bond in their conservatism. Bearded and elfish, Eaves, who lost 67 pounds in three months on a diet suggested by Calderon, was assistant majority leader and a member of the influential Ways and Means Committee until his run-in with the Speaker. He is the only gang member who faces a serious challenge in the June primary election.

Shared Concerns

What all five seem to have in common is the nature of their districts, mainly rural or suburban, with long-held complaints about being shoved aside for the concerns of California’s more populous, and far more liberal, urban centers.

“It all happened on the natural, there was nothing clandestine,” Condit said of the group’s formation.

At first, little more than occasional social companions, four of the five solidified their bonds on a vacation trip two years ago to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, and have since been meeting regularly for strategy sessions.

Said Condit: “We became political allies and when the Speaker decided to take action against us, we just decided to stick together as friends and political allies.”

Even before their activities surfaced publicly, some of the group were quietly working to push the governor’s tax-rebate proposal, initially opposed by many Democrats, as well as legislation requiring that minors receive their parents’ consent before undergoing an abortion.

Insurance Reform Package

The rebels finally went public last August after Calderon, Eaves and Peace teamed up with the GOP in the Ways and Means Committee to kill legislation that consumer groups had labeled as the major insurance reform package of the session.

To show they are not anti-consumer, the three substituted a “no-fault” insurance plan favored by big insurers but heavily opposed by the powerful trial lawyers lobby, which has close ties to Brown. Critics labeled the plan a payoff to the insurance industry that was sure to fail and leave Californians with no meaningful reform at all.

The rebels’ connections to insurance interests were underscored last month when Calderon and Peace turned up on a Consumers Union list as two of the top 12 recipients of insurance industry contributions.

“What their personal motivations are, in a way, history will record as irrelevant,” said Walter Zelman, director of California Common Cause. “You can see that these legislators are breaking with the party and breaking for the most part on the anti-consumer end.”

‘Jar Things Lose’

Calderon said he realizes the dissidents’ actions could be viewed as “obstructionist and duplicitous.” But he said the group’s motives are “equally subject to the interpretation that what we did was to jar things lose, to break the deadlock.”

Although hardly noticed, another small victory by the Gang of Five--rejection of a resolution to set up a liability task force--was viewed as far more injurious to Brown’s speakership. He had promised a number of powerful industry groups looking for protections from liability lawsuits that he could deliver on the task force.

His failure provided hard evidence that Brown was no longer in control of the Assembly. With that loss and others to come, the Speaker’s “own impotence will become more obvious to all the spectators,” Areias predicted.

Meanwhile, the remainder of the Democratic caucus, once described by Brown’s lieutenants as united against the rebellion, has begun to sprout cracks.

Assemblyman Norman Waters of Plymouth, whose Sierra gold country district has much in common with the conservative Central Valley represented by Condit and Areias, said he has been pressured by his constituents to join the rebels.

Conservative Caucus

“Indeed, I had a number of my constituents ask me why I didn’t join them mainly because the Gang of Five, with a couple of exceptions, generally shares their same philosophy; they are moderate and conservative Democrats,” Waters said. Although not ready to take part in the rebellion, Waters said he hopes to put together a “conservative caucus” of six or seven other moderate Democrats who may vote with the dissidents on a number of issues.

Democratic Assemblyman Steve Clute, who is facing a tough reelection fight in his conservative Riverside district, said he already has decided to vote with the gang and the GOP on a number of law-enforcement bills.

Also threatening Brown is the unexpected success of Jesse Jackson’s presidential race. The Speaker, who chairs Jackson’s national campaign, must spend a lot of time out of state these days raising money, rather than sticking close to home and shoring up his defenses.

For now at least, the Gang of Five is reluctant to move against Brown, hoping first to build credibility in the eyes of mainstream Democrats so that one of its own can become Speaker.

Republicans Split

In the long run, however, Brown’s ouster is just as likely to come from the Republicans, whose caucus is split over what to do.

Nolan has a longstanding agreement not to pick public fights with Brown on the Assembly floor and says he does not want to move against the Speaker unless a Republican--preferably himself--can be elected in his place. The rebel Democrats flatly refuse to vote for a Republican.

But Nolan is being pressured heavily by at least half a dozen Republicans to overthrow Brown, even if that means leaving the Assembly in chaos with no leader at all. At a closed-door meeting recently, Nolan’s view was still in the majority. But this group of dissident Republicans was reportedly complaining loudly about the difficulty of explaining to constituents why the GOP has the power to dump Brown yet refuses to exercise it.

‘Make a Real Splash’

“This (the rebel Democrats) is a group that sees its role as throwing sticks into the gears of government,” said one Assembly Republican and Brown loyalist, who asked to remain anonymous. “Their motivation is, ‘We can make a real splash by turning Willie down.’ ”

The split has boiled over into the Republican primary, where Assemblyman Gerald N. Felando of San Pedro is facing tough questions from a well-financed opponent about published statements that he would not vote to oust Brown.

If the anti-Brown faction in the Republican caucus gathers strength, Nolan could ultimately face the choice of openly challenging the Speaker or losing his own leadership post.

Said Nolan: “I’ll do what the caucus wants.”

Assemblyman Stan Staham (R-Oak Run) observed: “I’ve never seen the house so loose and fluid. It’s just not the Gang of Five any more, but a bunch of little caucuses all over the place. They’re saying if the Gang of Five can do all this, what about ‘the magnificent seven.’ This house is really fractured.”

Brown’s best hope of retaining power for now is to try to keep a lid on the boiling political caldron and focus his efforts on the November elections. If he can pick up at least three seats, Brown presumably would have enough Democratic allies to render the Gang of Five irrelevant. He is virtually assured of at least one currently vacant seat in heavily Democratic San Francisco.

“That’s when they start to break up,” predicted Speaker Pro Tem Roos. “They don’t want to live in purgatory forever.”

Condit said there is no pulling out now, no matter what happens in November.

“Anyone who thinks this is a show or a game, it’s not,” he said. “It’s a real struggle. We’re up against a gentleman who is as tough as they come and as clever as they come. It takes all five of us to be as clever as he is, but individually we are just as tough.”