Mel Levine and Foes of the Gulf War

Last Sunday, I drove over to St. Augustine By-The-Sea Church in Santa Monica, where about 20 opponents of the war were meeting in the basement.

I took a seat in the circle of folding chairs and listened while scorn was heaped on the local congressman, Democrat Mel Levine. Levine, a critic of American overseas military adventures, had recently given President Bush an aye vote on the Persian Gulf War. Before that vote, some of the group had staged a sit-in in Levine’s office and they were unhappy that the tactic had not influenced him.

Levine wasn’t at the church. I hadn’t expected him. In the distinctive manner of the Westside, this was the meeting before the meeting. The real meeting was scheduled the following Tuesday at the Santa Monica Public Library, when Levine was supposed to discuss his vote with some of the anti-war people. This meeting was just to map out an agenda.

One item on the agenda at St. Augustine Church was whether the press could cover the meeting with Levine. I’d been told the matter would be decided democratically. Three speakers would advocate opening the meeting to reporters. Three speakers would oppose it. And three would espouse a compromise position.

Only on the Westside, I thought.

Luckily, the debate was not that elaborate. The group quickly and unanimously voted to admit the press and I left, anticipating seeing Levine in action.

I was anxious to see him spar with the anti-war folks because this is a crucial point in the congressman’s career. He’s a longtime hot prospect. Now, at 48, he’s preparing to move up to statewide politics and run for the Senate in 1992. Political handicappers have some questions. They want to know if Levine is rugged enough for the daily pounding of a statewide election campaign.

Levine, a congressman for nine years, is well-respected for his intelligence, intense work habits and personal honesty. Politicians in both parties like him. Despite that, some of the harder-eyed pros have their doubts. Maybe he’s too accommodating, too cautious, afraid of confrontation.

The congressman, whose 27th District extends along the Los Angeles County coastline, is a pillar of the Berman-Waxman political organization, almost on the level of the name partners, Reps. Howard Berman and Henry Waxman.

In chardonnay-and-mineral-water patter in the Westside’s tight little political world, the trio is known simply as Howard, Henry and Mel. If you have to ask their last names, you don’t belong.

But Mel’s different than Howard and Henry. They climbed from the UCLA campus through the grass roots of Beverly-Fairfax, knocking off entrenched leaders in hard-fought campaigns still remembered by veteran Democrats. They walked door-to-door through the district, never knowing what kind of reception they’d get on front porches, or in political meetings. The highly politicized voters of Beverly-Fairfax enjoy giving candidates a hard time. They don’t put up with waffling.

Mel’s rise has been easier. The son of wealthy parents, he graduated from UC Berkeley and received a graduate degree at Princeton and a law degree from Harvard. He served on former Sen. John Tunney’s staff and practiced law before running for the Assembly in a district the Berman-Waxmans created for a Democrat. His congressional district is similarly safe.

It’s different from the areas that produced Berman and Waxman. Very rich people live in the hills and along the more expensive stretches of the beach, people who affect good manners and don’t shout at candidates.

So if Howard and Henry evoke images of fierce arguments on Fairfax Avenue street corners, Mel makes you think of jogging on San Vicente Boulevard in Brentwood.

As it turned out, there was no confrontation at the anti-war group’s meeting with Levine. That was because Mel didn’t show up.

Wednesday, I asked Bill Andreson, Levine’s press secretary, what had happened.

Levine, he said, had thought the meeting would be private, but the peace people had put out a press release on it. “He had agreed to have a private meeting so they could express their concerns,” he said. Anyway, Levine had already talked to these people at the sit-in. Another discussion would be “rehashing it (in) a town hall (meeting) where Mel lends his office to what will essentially be an anti-war meeting.”

The activists were surprised that Mel wouldn’t face them. I think they felt Mel flunked the toughness test. After all, there were only a half a dozen or so waiting for him in the library, and they seemed quite peaceable.

“He’s got to understand,” said Charlene Richards of the Marina-Mar Vista-Venice Democratic Club, “we’re not here to bash him. We’ve got a war to stop.”