Robbins Paints Sordid Picture of Politics : Capitol: A chronicle of venality, intrigue and contempt for the public is emerging during ex-senator’s testimony against former colleagues. But others say he is describing the exception, not the rule.

In a wood-paneled courtroom a few blocks from the state Capitol, Alan Robbins has taken the lead role in a sordid political drama of skulduggery in high places.

As a lawmaker for 18 1/2 years, the San Fernando Valley Democrat earned a reputation as an energetic deal-maker able to get his way on legislation.

Now as a disgraced felon, the ex-state senator is a star witness in the latest in a string of Capitol federal political corruption trials, describing the influence-peddling that became interwoven in the fabric of his life and, he says, in the lives of other public officials.

Robbins knows that this confessional is probably the last act of his public life and appears to relish testifying against lobbyist Clayton R. Jackson and former Sen. Paul B. Carpenter (D-Downey) as much as he did scoring a legislative victory.

As he puts his own theatrical spin on meetings he secretly recorded while cooperating with federal investigators, Robbins is trying to use his mastery of the legislative art to persuade the 12 people on the jury that his former pals exhibited the same venality that forced him to plead guilty to corruption charges, resign from office and serve time in prison.

For the last two weeks, lobbyists, reporters, advocates of good government, and students have been drawn to a federal courtroom to hear Robbins’ riveting informant’s tale of the corrosive effect money has on politics. He is expected to be on the stand for several more days.

Robbins’ Capitol is a house of intrigue that confirms the public’s worst suspicions about politicians, and his testimony has touched on his close relationship with Senate President Pro Tem David A. Roberti and Jackson’s claim to have clout with Gov. Pete Wilson.

In Robbins’ world, legislators hold the public in contempt. Robbins testified, for example, how Carpenter pushed through legislation in the early 1980s to regulate personal use of campaign funds, but then cynically helped his colleagues skirt the law.

The conversations with Jackson that Robbins secretly recorded over four months in 1991 are spiced with barbed comments about a variety of public officials--most of whom have not been charged with any wrongdoing. Jackson describes Sen. John Lewis (R-Orange) as “one of our main robots.” He calls Gov. Pete Wilson “somewhat inept.”

Such comments may reflect Jackson’s disdain for elected officials. But his defense has not yet begun and it may be that Jackson was merely boasting for the benefit of Robbins, a politician known for his arrogance.

Some of those named on the tapes are taking the barbs in stride.

Lewis issued a statement Friday saying, “The gist of Clay Jackson’s comments is that I am a predictable vote because I am guided by a set of fiercely held conservative convictions. . . . Coming from one of Sacramento’s leading professional lobbyists, that’s a compliment.” Assemblywoman Jackie Speier (D-Burlingame) has taken her characterization by Jackson as “that feisty little bitch” as a kind of badge of honor. The slight has been widely reported in Sacramento and Speier is thinking about producing buttons emblazoned with the label feisty .

But Robbins’ underlying charge of near-universal corruption has been vigorously challenged. Speier, a candidate for secretary of state, said that the Robbins’ way of doing business is the exception, not the rule.

“The biggest mistake any one of us could make would be to suggest that Alan Robbins was the benchmark of leadership and ethics in the Legislature,” Speier said.

Early in the trial, which is expected to last several more weeks, Judge Edward J. Garcia noted that some actions described in testimony probably would be repugnant but not necessarily illegal. “Many things legislators and lobbyists do may be distasteful to people unfamiliar with the process,” said Garcia, a testy veteran jurist.

Carpenter and Jackson have pleaded innocent to a variety of charges brought in February by a grand jury. Carpenter, a former member of the state Board of Equalization, is charged with 11 counts of conspiracy, money laundering and obstruction of justice.

Jackson, a San Francisco lawyer, is charged with 10 counts of racketeering, conspiracy and money laundering. In his heyday, the 6-foot-6 Jackson was considered the Capitol’s most influential lobbyist, in part because of the campaign contributions his clients, especially insurance companies, showered on elected officials.

Federal prosecutors have argued that there was no one closer to Jackson than Robbins.

On the witness stand, Robbins, dressed in dark business suits and smirking as he spars with defense lawyers, acknowledged that he conspired to destroy evidence and urged others, including girlfriends, to lie for him in an effort “to make the investigation go away.”

But in the spring of 1991, he was persuaded that prosecutors had a strong case rooted in his extortion of about $250,000 from a San Diego hotel developer and bribes he had taken from Jackson. So he decided to cooperate with federal authorities and eagerly agreed to wear a wire to secretly tape conversations with Jackson in hopes of reducing his prison sentence.

The recordings began July 9, 1991, and ended Nov. 13, 1991, six days before Robbins resigned after acknowledging that he had used his office for personal gain. Jackson’s Sacramento office was raided by FBI agents the same day Robbins resigned from office.

In one conversation July 10, 1991, over oatmeal and toast at the El Rancho Hotel in West Sacramento, Jackson said he was willing to pay Robbins $250,000 to switch a workers’ compensation issue from the Industrial Relations Committee to his Insurance, Claims and Corporations Committee, which was viewed as being more friendly to Jackson’s clients.

In cross-examination, Jackson’s lawyer, Donald H. Heller, tried to rattle Robbins by noting that it was Robbins who raised the subject of money. Heller contends that Robbins, not Jackson, instigated the scheme and that Robbins was attempting to shake down the lobbyist.

Not unexpectedly, Wilson has been mentioned in some of the tapes as Robbins and Jackson discussed how to get what they want done. As governor, Wilson has final say on all bills passed by the Legislature.

On tapes played for the jury, Jackson boasts of having special access to Wilson’s office, especially during negotiations on a proposal that would have affected the rate that companies charge for workers’ compensation insurance.

“I’ve spent a lot of time in the governor’s office, you know, in the back there, the real governor’s office,” Jackson said. At another point, he derides the competence of Wilson’s staff and describes the governor as “somewhat inept.”

Jackson tells Robbins that immediately after their July 10 breakfast, he is meeting with the governor.

In an interview last week, Wilson said he did not recall meeting with Jackson but conceded: “It’s possible. I met with everybody I could find who I thought could advance that agenda” on workers’ compensation reform.

Later, J.P. Tremblay, the governor’s deputy press secretary, said Jackson did not have “any more sway” with Wilson’s office “than any other lobbyists in this town.”

In the courtroom, Robbins, clutching a microphone and leaning forward intently, has sketched a road map through a helter-skelter political world.

“It’s very easy in the atmosphere of the Capitol to stray from the path that one comes there to follow,” Robbins testified. Under intense defense questioning, Robbins acknowledged that in selling his vote for money he was acting as a legislative “prostitute.”

Although he’s known Jackson for many years, their close relationship was rooted in Robbins’ appointment to a key committee chairmanship.

In return for helping Roberti become Senate President Pro Tem, Robbins testified, Roberti made him chairman of a new panel on insurance. Robbins was able to raise hefty campaign donations from groups with business before his committee.

He said that Carpenter, who was Senate Democratic caucus chairman, would keep a list of Senate Democrats and record how much each had contributed to targeted election races or initiative campaigns.

After Carpenter left the Senate, the records were maintained by a member of Roberti’s staff, Robbins testified. Robbins said he was rewarded for his high level of contributions with staff and help on bills, especially for pet projects in the Valley.

“The more money you raised . . . the more clout you had with the caucus,” he testified.

Steve Glazer, Roberti’s press secretary, rejected Robbins’ version of events. He said in an interview that Roberti had never tied a committee assignment to fund raising and contended that Robbins was upset when he was given the chairmanship of the Insurance Committee because he viewed it as a “paltry assignment.”

Glazer said election to the Legislature “is a credit card to do the right thing or sell your soul and the vast majority of legislators conduct themselves with high integrity and fulfill their responsibilities honestly.”

But Robbins offers a very different sense of the Senate, which he describes as a place where Jackson and other lobbyists enjoy undue clout.

Robbins said his colleagues were reluctant to buck Jackson, especially if his lobbying firm had passed out a blue “floor alert” urging them to favor his position on a bill.

Robbins cited one incident on the Senate floor when he approached Sen. Ruben Ayala (D-Chino) and told him that Jackson--contrary to his earlier floor alert--was no longer opposed to a measure. He said Ayala did not want to waver from the bulletin’s recommendation, quoting his colleague as saying, “I’m trying to increase my percentage of votes for Jackson clients.”

In an interview, Ayala vehemently denied that the conversation took place. Ayala said that Jackson has been in his office four or five times in the last 20 years, but he never had any conversations about Jackson’s clients assisting him.

“What Alan is doing is painting a picture of where every single legislator is corrupt,” Ayala said. But, he asserted, “there are very few Alan Robbinses around . . . thank God.”

Times staff writers Cynthia Craft, Carl Ingram, Paul Jacobs and Daniel Weintraub contributed to this story.

How to Corrupt State Government

For nearly two decades, Alan Robbins was a master strategist in the state Senate. Now, as a prosecution witness at a political corruption trial in Sacramento, the imprisoned former San Fernando Valley lawmaker is describing a system full of trap doors, sidetracks and other devices designed to block proposals at the behest of special interest campaign contributors. Here are some of the key ways Robbins said he manipulated the Legislature to corrupt ends:

1) COMMITTEE ASSIGNMENT

After a bill is introduced in the Senate, it is sent to the Rules Committee for referral to a policy committee. “This can be the most important step,” Robbins said, because assignment to one policy committee or another can determine whether a proposal passes its first hurdle or is bottled up.

“When the Rules Committee wants to kill a bill or make it hard to get a bill through,” it will be assigned to two policy committees. “They are creating two different opportunities to kill the bill,” he said.

2) COMMITTEE HEARING

Robbins, former chairman of the Senate Insurance, Claims and Corporations Committee, decribed the policy committee hearing as a “critical step” because the full Senate tends to follow the panel’s recommendation. “Most bills are killed in committee,” not on the Senate floor. If Robbins wanted to shoot down a bill before his committee, he would “look at my watch” and say that he was going to quickly put the measure to a vote, especially when not all the committee members were present.

3) JUICE BILLS

Some bills are considered “classic juice bills”--a piece of legislation “where you have financial interests who compete against each other.” He said such legislation provides “political room to go on either side (of the issue) and (therefore) both sides are out there giving (campaign) contributions.”

4) STUDY IT

Other bills are sent by policy committee to “interim study,” which Robbins describes as another “way of killing a bill but making it look like you’re not against a bill.” In other words, the proposal is dead “but we’re going to study it.”

5) THE ALAN AMENDMENT

If a bill was not to his liking, Robbins said, he could amend it to become more favorable to his interests. “I don’t want to sound immodest, but basically an Alan amendment was an amendment that was written in such a way that no one could vote against it. It would be motherhood and apple pie.”