Launching an Anti-Nuke Crusade : Del Mar Activist Sees Small Towns as Starting Point

Martha Kaye laughs at the thought that, of all things to be doing, she was making the bed at her Del Mar home the day inspiration struck like some well-guided missile.

She had tuned the television to her favorite evening show--the “McNeil-Lehrer News Hour”--just for some company. That’s when she saw him. That’s when the 55-year-old Kaye sat on the edge of the bed in awed silence.

“There he was, New Zealand’s ex-prime minister, David Lange, talking about his role in making his country nuclear-free,” recalled the mother of three grown sons.

“He just sounded so bright and so together, and his solution sounded so wonderful, I said, ‘There’s my guy, and there’s my issue.’ After the show ended, I just sat there on the bed for a while. Then I decided to do something about it.”

The experience launched Kaye on a self-described one-woman crusade to persuade her City Council to follow Lange’s lead, to pass a law that would make Del Mar the first nuclear-free zone in San Diego County.

Her idea to ban the possession, testing, storage or repair of nuclear weapons and their components--things such as warheads and other strategic weapons systems--would add Del Mar to an elite group of 24 nuclear-free cities in California and another 139 communities nationwide.

With the help of a nonprofit environmental group in Baltimore, she studied sample nuclear-free zoning ordinances, along with pamphlets on how to approach communities on such difficult issues.

She also sought advice from a friend in Washington state who had helped initiate a similar ordinance there several years ago.

Then, like a well-rehearsed veteran of small-town politics, Kaye personally presented her idea to Del Mar’s five council members--several of whom she had helped put in office with long hours on their election staffs.

She made telephone calls. She visited homes. She even scouted down one council member on the street. Then she officially proposed her idea before a recent council session.

But, wait, this is Del Mar--land of tourists and trifectas, not Trident missiles and nuclear triggers. Can she be serious?

The Del Mar City Council apparently thinks so. Later this month, Kaye hopes to bear the fruits of her anti-nuclear labor when the council approves her suggested ordinance, which has been called a symbolic gesture to “just say no” to nuclear weapons.

Kaye insists that it’s time to take such a stand, that she’s not

just some wealthy housewife with a little too much time on her hands.

“It’s just a zoning ordinance, really, like where do you put the sewer plant or how high do you allow your buildings to be built,” she said. “One day, I hope the whole world can become a nuclear-free zone.

“The way I see it, laws in places like Del Mar are just the beginning. This ordinance is just my teeny-weeny contribution to all of this.”

Little Opposition

Curiously, in a city where nasty political battles rock the town as regularly as the ocean tide, Kaye’s idea has met with little resistance. The Del Mar Surfcomber, the local paper, even wrote an editorial supporting her position.

Of course, the absence of much resistance may reflect the fact that Del Mar is not exactly a center of the nuclear weapons industry. Neither Kaye nor any city official was aware of any business that might be affected by such an ordinance.

Although the council still must hear public response before the ordinance is adopted, officials expect little opposition.

“It’s obviously symbolic,” said Michael Williams, managing editor of the Surfcomber. “But, as Kaye argues, somebody could start up a small nuclear industry here. I just thought it was a good idea from a symbolic standpoint of promoting peace.”

Del Mar Mayor Brooke Eisenberg was another of those won over by Kaye’s argument. “The city is taking a moral stand,” she said. “And I’m proud that we’re doing it.”

But there have been doubters. Former San Diego Mayor Roger Hedgecock recently called Eisenberg during his morning radio talk show.

“He wasn’t real keen on the idea,” she recalled. “He asked what would happen if San Diego decided not to defend Del Mar in the case of a nuclear war. Actually, his argument didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me.”

Heated Confrontations

Albert Donnay, director of Baltimore’s Nuclear Free America, described as a nonprofit resource center for nuclear-free zones, said opposition is common--even in liberal areas.

“There’s been some heated confrontations in some real liberal places like Palo Alto and Sonoma (Calif.), where the issue has been defeated,” he said. “When you’re outspent 20 to 1 by the opposition, you don’t stand much chance.”

Japan was the first country to declare a nuclear-free status, in 1958, Donnay said. In the United States, Hawaii County took such a stand in 1981, leading the way for scores of other communities.

Today, in addition to the current 163 nuclear-free zones, another 50 are under consideration, including Del Mar.

“The fact that the idea is slowly seeping into California suggests that you may finally be ready for it out there,” Donnay said.

Many communities such as Del Mar are home to companies with military contracts that are doing work in the area of the strategic defense initiative, quite possibly nuclear-related, he said.

Incredulous at Suggestion

Oved Zucker, president of Energy Compression Research Corp., one of two such local companies mentioned by Donnay, was incredulous at the suggestion of conducting nuclear experiments at the firm’s Del Mar offices.

“We’re not involved in nuclear materials or components or anything of the like,” he said of his research and development company, which now has two SDI-related military contracts, including one exploring the use of lasers and other electrooptics.

“Such nuclear research is done in large facilities, far away from populations, not tucked away in little Del Mar.”

Martha Kaye is undeterred by the fact that the ordinance would have no direct effect on the nuclear weapons industry.

“She’s pure dynamite,” Washington state resident Lee Sturdivant said of her friend. “I have a picture of Marty on my refrigerator, standing on top of Mt. Whitney with her hands on her hips, looking like she’s sassing God. That’s her.”

Kaye and Sturdivant, both Sierra Club members, have traded notes on evoking public support for their anti-nuclear cause, which Sturdivant helped champion in her home on San Juan Island several years ago.

“A lot of people initially said, ‘Why waste your time trying to prevent nuclear war?’ ” she recalled. “Because we really have no say whatsoever in big things like the F-16, the Stealth bomber and the defense budget.

“So when something like this comes off locally, everyone can stand up and raspberry the big government. Because that’s what it is--a raspberry.”

Kaye didn’t waste any time wondering whether other local activists would approve of her idea.

“Del Mar is a place that always has its back hairs up about something, so you continually have to call up the forces,” she said. “Often it’s just wasted time starting up committees, calling people on the phone.

“I said, ‘Golly, I can do this by myself.’ ”

But only in small-town politics, she acknowledged.

An Idea for Everywhere

Kaye said she will assist anyone who wants to start such a movement in San Diego.

“I wouldn’t take on San Diego myself. I think people should do such things for their own community. But being nuclear-free is an idea that can be carried anywhere--to a neighborhood, a school, a Kiwanis Club. You could even make your own home or office nuclear-free.

“Because winning each little piece of ground is a baby step toward a better whole.

“I’m nuts about grass-roots politics. It’s such a breath of fresh air not to have to deal with stuffy politicians on a state or federal level. I think the local level is where politicking is most effective.”

Kaye has been there before. Besides working behind the scenes on the campaigns of several local council members, she has staged battles of her own. She’s president of the board of Del Mar’s farmer’s market, which she successfully fought developers to establish after the older market closed.

The wife of San Diego Union Associate Editor Peter Kaye, she’s one of those old-line Del Mar residents who would like to see change come slowly. And she doesn’t want to see developers’ checkbooks do all the talking.

An amateur sculptor, she displays several of her works around her one-story house, which looks as if it would have evolved into the landscape by itself if given the chance.

But, on this day, the talk isn’t of art or the raising of her three sons. It’s about nuclear holocaust.

“Three Mile Island and Chernobyl have been enough to show us that these systems are not infallible,” she said. “Too many people feel that nuclear weapons are protecting us.

“Like many others, I believe they’re out to destroy us. It’s just an ill-thought-out means of defense, a weapon we will one day turn on ourselves.”