Edelman’s Chance to Shine

After 11 years, Ed Edelman has a chance to step from the shadows.

The election Tuesday did more than give Los Angeles County its first Latino supervisor in many years. It also put liberals in the majority on the five-member Board of Supervisors for the first time since 1980. No more will liberals Edelman and Kenny Hahn be outnumbered by conservatives Mike Antonovich, Deane Dana and Pete Schabarum. For Edelman, who has spent more than 15 years on the board, it represents an opportunity.

At the supervisors’ meeting Tuesday, I asked Edelman about how he saw his life on the new board. His reply was cold water on the hopes of those hoping the election will bring massive change.

With the county short of funds, he said, “The changes will not be as great as people would like.”

What about himself? Isn’t this his chance to lead, to be the liberal agenda setter?

Edelman paused reflectively. Yes, he had “a greater opportunity for leadership.” But in saying that, he told me he didn’t want to leave the impression “that I haven’t exercised leadership” in the past.

I should have known I wasn’t going to get a fiery declaration of high purpose from this most cautious of all politicians.

If Edelman has found himself overshadowed by the more ideological conservatives, or the more quotable Hahn, it’s because of his own personality.

Edelman seems happiest at Christmas, when he plays cello with a group of friends at a luncheon concert he stages in his office. Cold meats and cheese are brought in from Nate ‘n’ Al’s in Beverly Hills. Bottles of chilled wine and soft drinks are on the table. He looks like a man at peace with the world as he leads the quartet. I know some supervisors, now retired or dead, who would have popped the buttons in their double-knit suits if they had seen it.

That wasn’t what was predicted for then-young wonder Edelman when he exploded onto the local political scene in 1965. He was elected to the Los Angeles City Council by defeating another Westside whiz kid, incumbent Roz Wyman, who had helped bring the Dodgers to Los Angeles.

When Edelman was elected supervisor nine years later, his brisk appearance, sharpened by frequent tennis playing and well-cut traditional suits, sent a message that someone fresh had arrived in the tired old Hall.

That’s not exactly how it worked out. Edelman prided himself on being a reasonable man, former National Labor Relations Board attorney, a trained labor negotiator, an enlightened person. Always cautious, Edelman became even more wary, particularly when the conservatives took control. Antonovich, Dana and Schabarum saw themselves as the county vanguard of the Reagan revolution, then beginning in Washington, and waged an all-out fight for public opinion.

Hahn loved the battle. With the supervisor urging him on, press aide Dan Wolfe fired off press releases blasting the conservative majority’s policies. Hahn conducted guerrilla warfare. He’d call reporters up with tips on administrative foul-ups in the conservative programs, and supply enough documentation to set the journalists on the right track.

Edelman was appalled. Young publicists would be hired to get his name in the paper, but they would leave discouraged when their ideas were not accepted. When reporters got through to Edelman, his comments were so bland that they seldom made print. Hahn put money into losing campaigns to unseat the conservatives; Edelman warily stayed out of such contests.

Last year, there was a clear example of the difference between the two. The five supervisors had met in private to approve an alternative to the new district lines sought by Latinos in the redistricting suit. The three conservatives pushed the plan through and voted for a $500,000 appropriation to continue to fight the suit. The controversial expenditure was supposed to have been kept secret.

After the meeting, Hahn and Edelman held a press conference. Hahn, in a wheelchair and having trouble speaking, stole the show, telling about the $500,000 expenditure. For his part, Edelman didn’t say much.

Edelman complains--with some justification--that he doesn’t receive enough credit for major accomplishments, including his single-handed and successful efforts to start a county AIDS program and create a separate Department of Children’s Services.

He says he does his best work behind the scenes. But in the rough politics of the Hall of Administration, the Kenny Hahns and the Pete Schabarums--the people who know how to play rough and in public--provide the leadership.

Edelman has chosen another course. Now he predicts no great changes will come from a new board. If he stays in the comfort of the shadows, the prophecy might well come true.