CALIFORNIA ELECTIONS / OAKLAND MAYOR : Wilson Faces His Toughest Political Race

Mayor Lionel Wilson, a fixture in this city’s politics for three decades, was fighting off a nasty cold as he took his campaign for reelection to a hall filled with real estate agents recently.

In past years, Wilson could have stayed home to nurse his ailment. He long ago endeared himself to Oakland business leaders by presiding over a boom in downtown building that brought a glistening skyline to the city. As he seeks a fourth term, however, the soft-spoken mayor finds he can take no group for granted.

Concluding his speech to the agents, he pleaded, “Give me a chance to complete the job I started.” But on this day, in a city beset by a continuing drug crisis, crime, a troubled school system and the aftermath of last October’s earthquake, the applause for the mayor was polite, and nothing more.

At 75, Wilson is facing the toughest campaign of his career, challenged by politicians who barely were teen-agers when he began his government career in 1960. The most likely outcome is that no candidate will win more than 50% of the vote in the nonpartisan June 5 election, and the two leading vote-getters will face off in November. But a recent Oakland Tribune-Gallup Poll confirmed what local politicos have been saying for weeks: Wilson may not make it to the runoff.

Only 18% of the likely voters backed Wilson. Assemblyman Elihu Harris, a Democrat who is giving up the legislative seat he has held for 12 years to mount a well-heeled effort to unseat Wilson, led with 32%, the poll showed.

Harris’ closest rival was veteran City Councilman Wilson Riles Jr., liberal son of the former state superintendent of schools, who was supported by 22%. Five other candidates had lesser support. And 22% were undecided.

In a sign of Wilson’s past impact on Oakland, candidates Harris, Riles and City Councilman Leo Bazile all have been labeled his protege in the past. Now, though, they depict him as a figure whom time has passed by.

“It is sad,” Riles said of the sinking political fortunes of the city’s first black mayor. “He was probably the right person to break the color barrier. (But) I don’t know whether he should have gotten a second term, and certainly not a third term. . . . People are saying it is time for a change.”

The campaign has been mean even by Oakland’s fractious standards. Candidate forums routinely are interrupted by demonstrators, and campaign rhetoric frequently has been downright nasty.

At a recent candidates forum, Bazile, a city councilman since 1983, ignored a thoughtful question about the future of downtown and accused Harris of a cavalier attitude toward crack cocaine use because he has broached the prospect of legalizing drugs.

Harris restrained himself, answered the question about downtown, and waited until after the debate to respond. He said he did not advocate that crack be made legal, though he added that in the fight against drugs, “We should not be afraid to discuss all of the options.”

Such asides notwithstanding, the issues in Oakland are considerable. Last October’s earthquake hit the city hard; repairs to city-owned buildings may cost $250 million. Officials must negotiate with Caltrans over a replacement for the collapsed Nimitz Freeway.

Meanwhile, thousands of blue-collar workers could lose their jobs if a federal study recommending closure of Oakland-area Navy bases becomes reality.

Crack use is epidemic, straining the health care system and fueling crime. A city of 360,000 people, Oakland had a record 148 homicides last year. The murder rate was third-highest in the state last year for cities with populations of more than 100,000, and the overall crime rate was second-worst.

Oakland schools, though not the mayor’s responsibility, are a major campaign topic. A state trustee has been appointed to oversee the Oakland Unified School District, and a criminal investigation has led to the arrests of 13 district employees for theft and embezzlement.

“The solutions to those problems are going to have to come at a quickened pace,” said Alameda County Supervisor Don Perata, who is neutral in the race. “Rhetoric won’t get by. You’re going to have to have some very adroit leadership.”

Then, there’s football.

After initial reluctance, Wilson backed an ambitious plan to lure the Los Angeles Raiders back to Oakland with an unprecedented $600-million-plus package of loans, grants, guaranteed profits and a promise to rebuild the Oakland Coliseum, all to suit team owner Al Davis.

Politicians quickly discovered that while Oakland football fans may pine for the Raiders, they don’t miss Davis. This is the man who spurned them by moving the team to Los Angeles after the 1981 football season. The thought that the city would guarantee him profits angered so many that 31,000 residents signed petitions to place the plan to bring the Raiders back on the ballot. The referendum was put on hold after Wilson withdrew his support of the deal; city officials and the Raiders have reopened negotiations.

Wilson conceded that the proposal has been “a negative” for him. He added, “I got caught in the middle.”

Even Councilman Riles, who scored big by opposing the deal, was shocked at the reaction. The deal elicited more angry calls than any municipal issue Riles could recall. “I lucked out,” he said.

Riles, long Wilson’s nemesis, tried to unseat the mayor in 1985. An ally of liberal Rep. Ron Dellums (D-Berkeley), Riles battles the moderate Wilson on such issues as rent control and development. He contends that more should be spent on the city’s poor neighborhoods and less on big downtown projects.

Wilson encouraged interest in his job by strengthening the office. Under a 1988 City Charter change that he engineered, the next mayor will make $80,000 a year, up from the previous $30,000.

He also supported moving local elections to even-numbered years. For the first time, the mayoral campaign is being held in conjunction with major state races. Turnout could hit 50%; in the last two mayoral elections, it was less than 28%.

At the time the changes were being debated, Wilson was leaning against running. He changed his mind last summer, saying he concluded that no other candidate could see through to completion development of a major downtown retail center.

However, as many voters apparently see it, Wilson’s day is over.

Clinton O’Keefe Killian, a 32-year-old lawyer and Harris supporter, talks of Oakland’s “tremendous potential,” but points to opportunities lost under Wilson. He extols the lifestyle in his ethnically diverse city, though he has complaints with faulty city services and frets about sending his children to Oakland schools.

“Oakland could be the town in California where blacks and other minorities can show they bring something to the table,” Killian said. But for all its promise of becoming “Atlanta-West,” Oakland won’t “go any further unless somebody is pushing it.”

Harris has tailored his message to such voters. While Wilson proved to any skeptics that “blacks could run the city,” Harris said, there’s a need now to move “beyond presence and become more aggressive.”

Harris has built his campaign around high-quality public schools. In some ways, it’s an odd issue to champion, given that the mayor has no say over the schools, which are run by an independently elected school board.

Still, Harris made a name for himself last year by pushing state legislation that led to the naming of a trustee to oversee the school district. The bill came after years of poor academic performance by students, studies critical of district management, and, finally, the criminal investigation.

Harris won popular support with the bill, but has taken his share of hits over it. Wilson charged that he pushed it merely to gain needed name identification.

The move also angered members of a black neighborhood group called the People’s Democratic Uhuru Movement. Using a variety of disruptive tactics, Uhuru adherents have been hounding Harris.

Their point: Harris backs “white colonialists” and “the U.S. government’s war against the black community” with his support of the school trustee.