Feinstein’s ‘Star Power’ Dimmed by Martyrdom Claim

I have a gut feeling that Dianne Feinstein will be elected governor. It’s nothing I’d bet the retirement pension on, but I sense a vague unease “out there” among the masses and the accompanying feeling that the good ol’ boys just aren’t getting the job done.

Her campaign approach so far strikes a chord like the one John F. Kennedy played in 1960, following eight years under that lovable helmsman, Dwight D. Eisenhower--namely, that the ship of state is taking on water.

But to assure the public that he wasn’t a loose cannon disguised as a dynamo, Kennedy said just enough conservative things about military preparedness to keep people from getting too jittery.

Last weekend in Anaheim, Feinstein sounded like she’d read all the JFK primers. She talked about the state’s “crumbling” infrastructures, both human and physical, and of being moved when she saw an “I Will Work for Food” street beggar within hailing distance of Disneyland.

She ticked off a full Democratic social agenda, mentioning child care, AIDS, help for the elderly, health insurance, abortion rights, education and the environment.

But she also took the “tough” issue of crime and threw it right where it belongs--in the faces of the demagogic Republicans who have been waving it around for years. “Is there anyone who feels safer today than you did eight years ago?” she asked.

“If you sell drugs, you should go to jail,” she said. “If you take another’s life, you should forfeit your own.” Her death penalty position didn’t elicit enthusiasm from the Democratic crowd, but it will play well in more middle-of-the-road or conservative households.

All in all, Feinstein’s luncheon talk was an effective message that jazzed up a room of Orange County Democrats, which, believe me, is no mean feat.

I remember sitting in the midst of a Democratic gathering in Santa Ana in June, 1988, while a small group of party faithful watched on television as Michael S. Dukakis stepped to the microphone after winning the California presidential primary. Even with local TV cameras pointing at the local Democrats, it took nothing short of a mass goosing to get them to stand up and put on a feigned show of enthusiasm for Dukakis.

Feinstein had no such problem last weekend. Her “star power” looks like the genuine article and may make the difference with that broad middle ground of the California electorate that will probably decide who the next governor will be.

And now for the bad news. Just about the time you think a candidate may rise above the crowd, they do something to show they’re human.

That was Feinstein during a post-luncheon press conference, responding to a question about her husband’s unloading of stock in 1989 just hours before the company’s president quit and the stock value dropped like a B-52 out of gas. Her husband, Richard Blum, is a director and a major shareholder in the company, Irvine’s National Education Corp.; he sold 115,000 shares on behalf of the investment group he controls.

The bottom line is that Blum and his partners made a bundle. Blum acknowledged over the weekend that the Securities and Exchange Commission questioned him about the stock sale, presumably about whether insider trading information contributed to his decision to sell.

The SEC has announced no action. That’s where things stand today.

The circumstances of the sale make it a legitimate campaign issue, considering that Blum isn’t just Feinstein’s husband, but also her campaign’s chief financial backer.

In first responding to a reporter’s question, Feinstein said about all you’d expect her to say--that the SEC had taken a look at things and that she assumed everything was fine.

Would that she would have stopped there. Instead, she decided to martyr herself, saying that: “I recognize what’s happening here. And what’s happening is using him to get at me. And somehow, I guess in a true sense of what’s right and what’s wrong, that strikes me as wrong.”

She recounted her career as a public servant and her pride in “my integrity and my credibility.”

She concluded by saying, “I’ve seen this done with other women candidates, too. And I’m not making conclusions. But I think it offers substantial food for thought.”

I agree, and my conclusions are that Feinstein blew it on that one. She’s not being picked on because she’s a woman; she was legitimately questioned because she’s running for governor and her closest personal adviser and financial contributor did something that raised enough questions for the SEC to look into it.

It’s true she’s subjected to what seems like a double standard but only because women historically haven’t attained the kind of lofty political perch she occupies. And male candidates historically haven’t been subjected to that kind of spousal scrutiny for the obvious reasons that their spouses typically weren’t as visible as male spouses are today.

If Feinstein thinks that only women’s spouses get picked on, she should ask former state Sen. William Campbell about news stories regarding his wife’s involvement in a women’s conference in recent years.

The rules are changing, and Feinstein knows it. To play the role of the would-be martyr isn’t becoming of the next governor of California.

Caesar’s wife had to be above suspicion. It’s only right that when Caesar’s wife runs for office, so, too, should her husband.

Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Parsons by writing to him at The Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, Calif. 92626, or calling (714) 966-7821.