A Rebel With a Cause : Tired of Being ‘Conscience of the Senate,’ Hayden Uses Governor’s Race to Draw Attention to His Long-Term Agenda for Reform

In the days after Democrat Tom Hayden’s unexpected jump into the governor’s race, dozens of requests for radio, TV and newspaper interviews poured into his Capitol office and overloaded his campaign answering machine.

To his supporters, the message slips showed that the improbable quest would quickly meet one of its goals: grabbing attention for the Santa Monica state senator and his reform agenda.

The contest gives Hayden, a political activist since the 1960s civil rights movement, his latest platform and a high-profile way to spotlight the issues he pushed during his hard-fought 1992 state Senate election victory.

Although not particularly well-liked by his Senate colleagues, Hayden, 54, has earned a degree of respect he never quite seemed to gain in the Assembly, where he served for the previous decade. Even members of the Senate’s old guard have voiced grudging admiration for the way he has challenged Republican Gov. Pete Wilson’s appointees to boards and commissions.

But that is not satisfying enough for the restless Hayden. He seeks a higher profile, a statewide stage “to expose special interest influence here” in the Legislature.

He says the notion of running for governor emerged during a Christmas Day drive around Los Angeles in his electric-powered car. Stewing over a state Supreme Court decision striking down a campaign reform initiative, he wondered, “What’s a reformer to do?”

But he left the question unanswered until deciding at 11 p.m. last Tuesday to take “the final option” and plunge into the governor’s race. Among those he consulted before declaring his candidacy Wednesday were his wife, actress Barbara Williams, and former spouse and political benefactor, actress Jane Fonda.

Along with Fonda, Hayden long has been assailed by conservative politicians because of his opposition to the Vietnam War--a subject that probably will resurface during the campaign.

He concedes he has little chance of winning the race. He entered at the last minute and expects to be vastly outspent by better-organized Democratic rivals, Kathleen Brown and John Garamendi. He says a poll he commissioned shows he starts with support from only 10% of likely Democratic voters.

But among the assets Hayden brings to the long-shot campaign are his experience as a political organizer and veteran campaigner, a sharp mind, name recognition, a populist appeal and the ability to grab headlines.

As he returned to the Capitol last week after making his announcement in Los Angeles, Hayden, coffee cup in hand, mingled with colleagues who said he would shake up the race, chatted with a New York Times reporter and, as he left the Senate floor, bumped into Garamendi, who playfully said, “Hello, governor.”

Back in his crowded Capitol office, the graying Hayden tried to sort through messages and quickly arrange campaign appearances, including TV news and radio talk shows in the San Francisco Bay area. One harried staff member, who noted that campaign calls are referred to a hastily rented election office near the Capitol, estimated that in the day after Hayden’s announcement, the senator received at least one media message every five minutes.

Hayden’s surprise decision met a decidedly mixed reaction.

Assemblyman Mickey Conroy (R-Orange) immediately revived his complaint that Hayden’s anti-war activities should disqualify him from any state office because of a constitutional provision that bars anyone “who advocates the support” of a foreign government engaged in hostilities with the United States. Hayden dismisses the complaint, noting that President Clinton recently lifted the 19-year trade embargo on Vietnam.

One Democratic political consultant branded Hayden’s move as “foolish and self-centered,” adding that Hayden is “a flamethrower and he’ll be out there to throw those flames and I think it’s unfortunate” because it will split the Democratic Party.

But some Democratic senators believe Hayden’s surprise move will kindle much more interest in the June primary.

Sen. Diane Watson (D-Los Angeles) praised Hayden’s intellect, saying “this guy always comes up with a deeper dimension” during debates.

Citing Hayden’s critics, Watson said, “They don’t like him because they harken back to the ‘60s when he was a radical, but he makes sense. . . . Whether they take him seriously or not they will hear him.”

In the last year, Hayden has found a home in the 40-member Senate, one of the state’s most exclusive political clubs. It’s not that the barons who rule the upper chamber have embraced his progressive politics or his reformist views.

Instead, Hayden has taken full advantage of the Senate’s unwritten rules of etiquette, which give even newcomers wide berth to speak their minds. Hayden has spoken out on a wide range of topics, from earthquake safety and automobile Smog Checks to bobcat protection and water quality.

More important, Hayden has seized on a little-used procedural device to turn what is typically a routine review of gubernatorial appointments into a spirited dissection of state agencies, from the State Lottery to the University of California. Along the way he has challenged Wilson and former Senate President Pro Tem David A. Roberti (D-Van Nuys).

“He makes them (senators) look at these appointees and not just rubber-stamp them,” said one Senate staff member who is familiar with Hayden’s role as an appointment process watchdog.

Sen. Ralph C. Dills (D-Gardena), a charter member of the Senate’s old guard first elected to the Legislature in 1938, said the freshman’s intense scrutiny of appointees “keeps us on our toes, particularly on those things that have to do with the environment, much to my sorrow.”

Faced with criticism from Hayden, Wilson last year was forced to withdraw his appointment of former Rep. John H. Rousselot to a post on the state Board of Prison Terms, and Lottery Commission member Richard A. Cramer abruptly resigned rather than face a grilling by Hayden.

Other appointees won approval, but not before Hayden put their credentials under his microscope. Even though he failed to block confirmation of Wilson’s appointment of Daniel Apodaca to the state Lottery Commission, the debate last May spotlighted Hayden’s ability to use the process to attract attention to his objections.

During the Senate debate, Hayden complained that the Pasadena accountant failed in his watchdog role, especially in supporting a $400-million lottery contract for G-Tech Corp., without competitive bids.

In an unusually sharp rebuke of a colleague, Roberti sneered: “The Rules Committee isn’t just blithely passing these things out. We’re trying to protect our constitutional right and at the same time . . . not slash and cut people down who are decent.”

Hayden shot back: “I think Sen. Roberti doth protest too much. The record is clear. If the Rules Committee had investigated this matter more thoroughly . . . I wouldn’t have to be on this floor, having to speak out against Sen. Roberti and feel very alone.”

Asked last year if he relishes the niche he carved out for himself, Hayden would only say: “I do tend to sound like fingernails on the blackboard for some of these traditionalists.”

Hayden said his poll showed there was widespread support for his anti-Establishment critique of state government.

“If I can get my message across, I’ll be a competitive factor in the race,” says Hayden, who plans to eschew traditional, 30-second commercials, but does not rule out buying TV time, especially on cable.

The campaign is not Hayden’s first bid for statewide office. In 1976, Hayden lost a bid for the U.S. Senate. Six years later he captured an Assembly seat.

As a newcomer, Hayden sought to work within the system. But even as he climbed the seniority ladder to become chairman of the Labor Committee and later the Higher Education Committee, Hayden was frustrated at his inability to pass sweeping legislation.

With mixed results, he turned his attention to passage of major initiatives focused on the environment. He played a key role in the 1986 passage of Proposition 65, the anti-toxics initiative.

Never totally fitting into the Assembly, Hayden watched as his colleagues in 1991 backed a measure to obliterate his Westside Assembly district in the decennial redrawing of legislative lines. The experience seemed to liberate Hayden, prompting him to assail machine politics and tout his own independence from Assembly Speaker Willie Brown and other Democratic leaders.

With his political future on the line, Hayden ran for the newly created 23rd Senate District seat that stretches from the Westside to Woodland Hills in the San Fernando Valley. Using part of his wealth from his divorce settlement with Fonda, Hayden spent more than $700,000 of his own money to win the seat.

Now, just 16 months after capturing the Senate seat, he has upset the political equation once again.

While Hayden said he enjoys the Legislature, he is tired of getting pats on the back from his colleagues for being “the conscience of the Senate.”

“It means you’ll never get the majority,” Hayden said. “And my desire is not to be just a prophetic but isolated voice in the Senate . . . but to challenge the system until it changes.”

Times staff writer Dave Lesher contributed to this story.