A City Torn : Berkeley, Renowned for Its Soft Heart, Is Divided by Proposal to Get Tough With Pushy Panhandlers

Here in the cradle of the free-speech movement, tolerance has long been a source of great civic pride. No matter the message, no matter the messenger, Berkeley has opened its arms, embracing all with the gusto befitting a university town.

But now a nagging urban problem--pushy panhandlers--has crept in, and the quest for a solution is causing much anguish. Suddenly, a city renowned for big hearts, liberal voters and universal acceptance has begun to wonder whether the time has come to get tough.

Some residents have clearly reached the brink of their compassion. Fed up with intimidating, foul-mouthed beggars who refuse to take no for an answer, they are demanding passage of a law that would forbid “aggressive” panhandling, prohibit lying or sitting on sidewalks and ban begging near banks and movie theaters and after dark. The goal, they say, is not to banish paupers, but to restore civility to the streets.

Equally steadfast, however, are those who still preach indulgence. Cracking down on beggars, they contend, would place a cruel and unconstitutional muzzle on society’s most desperate and vulnerable souls.

The jury in this case is the City Council, and, like Berkeley itself, it is badly torn: “It won’t be easy,” Councilwoman Dona Spring said of the decision awaiting her and her colleagues April 12. “We don’t want to punish panhandlers, but we do need to change behavior so our streets are safe and pleasant for everyone.”

If Berkeley lowers the boom on beggars, it will blend right in with a distinct national pattern. From South Lake Tahoe to Dallas to New York, cities weary of offensive street conduct--and discouraged by the failure of kinder, gentler solutions--are steering a newly punitive course.

A December study by the National Law Center on Homelessness & Poverty documented this trend. In the last two years, the center measured a sharp rise in government actions that reflect “hostility toward . . . needy citizens.”

In Atlanta, city officials gearing up to play host to the 1996 Summer Olympic Games passed a nuisance ordinance under which obnoxious panhandlers can be jailed for up to six months. Street people in Georgia’s capital also risk arrest if they loiter in abandoned buildings or enter parking lots where they have no cars to claim.

Seattle’s beggars may not cause fear in a passerby, urinate in public or recline on a sidewalk, and Cincinnati has outlawed “interfering with a pedestrian” and removed public benches used by those who troll for change.

In Reno, it is OK to stand silently with a “Will Work for Food” sign. But those who alarm a pedestrian--or make someone take “evasive action” to avoid encountering them--could be fined or sentenced to six months in jail.

Some cities even require a permit to beg. That nearly happened in Santa Cruz, but was ultimately considered too cumbersome to enforce.

Instead, under a law that received initial approval by the City Council Tuesday, Santa Cruz beggars have been forbidden to use public benches or planters to plead for alms, and must not follow, block or invade the personal space of their targets.

The beach city also will hold its beggars to a strict code of conduct, insisting that they be sober, polite and truthful: “We don’t want any cursing,” Councilman Neal Coonerty said, “and we don’t want people giving false reasons when they ask for money, like, ‘My disability check is due tomorrow.’ ”

Coonerty, a bookstore owner, said he championed the proposed ordinance because unruly panhandlers were alienating downtown shoppers: “Downtown is our civic living room, and people are tired of putting up with intimidation and other types of behavior that are ruining their public space.”

The councilman said he hopes the new law will “send a message that there are limits to our tolerance in Santa Cruz.” Apparently, someone has sent a message back. After the council meeting Tuesday, Coonerty said an angry foe of the new law told him, “Bricks are next.” The following night, the front window of his store was shattered by a brick.

Homeless advocates call the panhandling crackdowns short-sighted reactions that, though often politically popular, do little to address the underlying causes of poverty. Such actions, they say, are an echo of anti-vagrancy laws adopted by cities 30 years ago. Those laws, which essentially penalized people for wandering about with no lawful purpose, were invalidated by a U.S. Supreme Court decision in 1972. Today’s measures are carefully tailored in ways that often hold up in court.

“What we’re seeing is a resurgence of misguided responses by politicians looking for a quick fix,” said Maria Foscarinis, director of the National Law Center. “They are under enormous pressure from the public to do something, and the result is a crackdown that may drive people away but does nothing to address the causes of this terrible social problem.”

In Berkeley, those clamoring for panhandling restrictions say they are all for addressing the social problem. Indeed, the community has been a generous provider of homeless assistance. Among other things, there are two shelters, a job center and an emergency food project in town, and merchants pioneered a novel program allowing residents to buy vouchers that the needy can exchange for food and other goods.

The controversy, then, is not over homelessness, but street behavior. During the past several years, some residents say, Berkeley’s downtown has been overtaken by a new generation of “entrepreneurial panhandlers”--many of whom live outside the city, have homes and simply find it easier, or more profitable, to beg than find a job.

From the doorstep of his music store on busy Shattuck Avenue, Cary Nasatir can point out a half-dozen regulars who have mined his neighborhood for years. One lives in Richmond, Nasatir says, and is dropped off by his wife in a Ford Escort each morning. Another takes the bus in, arriving promptly at 11 a.m. The first panhandler was recently arrested after threatening restaurant customers who would not give him change. The second routinely screams curses at those who ignore his outstretched hand.

“I know these people--I’ve talked with them many times--and they do not want jobs, they do not need shelter,” Nasatir said. “They are here because they can make $70 or $80 a day sitting on the sidewalk. It’s a big scam.”

What angers Nasatir and others is not the presence of such people, but the effect their behavior has on the downtown’s ambience--and, consequently, on business.

“We are losing good, loyal customers because they are afraid, intimidated or just tired of being attacked five times between their car and our store,” said Barbara Maiss, manager of Lawson’s Stationery. “They’d rather go to a nice, clean mall with security guards. And who can blame them?”

In recent months, a tobacconist, a fine china store, a computer outlet, a florist, a toy store, and a delicatessen have all closed or relocated from the Shattuck Avenue area, and new businesses have been reluctant to move in. Nasatir said his store, Tupper & Reed, “still sells a lot of sheet music for $3.95,” but laments that “there aren’t many people coming in and plunking down $15,000 for a piano anymore.”

The solution, merchants have decided, is to adopt standards of conduct that, in Nasatir’s words, “will make downtown as inhospitable as possible” for panhandlers. In some cities, this has been a relatively simple task. But here in the home of People’s Park, the panhandling proposals have sparked demonstrations, candlelight vigils, raucous public hearings--and even a monthlong fast by a follower of the late Cesar Chavez.

Critics have numerous complaints about the proposed rules. Some call them unconstitutional, saying they violate free speech rights and would criminalize people for the status of being needy. Others say existing laws targeting assault and other crimes give police ample tools to handle the problem.

Jules Seitz, a Berkeley resident since 1967, condemned the proposals as an overreaction and the product of an irrational climate of fear. “People these days are afraid of anything that might possibly offend them,” he said.

Lawyer Erica Etelson agreed, and said she finds it outrageous that “the alleviation of consumer discomfort” is being used as an excuse to penalize “destitute individuals who have no homes.

“If an aggressive panhandler comes up to you,” Etelson suggests, “why not just exercise your constitutional right to say no?”

Supporters of new rules realize their fight will be a bruising one. That, they say, is part of life in Berkeley.

“Accomplishing something like this is very difficult in Berkeley because of our reputation for tolerance and political correctness,” said Rebecca Rhine, director of the Telegraph Merchants Assn. “Nobody wants to stand up publicly and tell these aggressive, obstreperous people, ‘I’ve had enough. Go away.”’

Privately, however, many Berkeley residents have that urge, the merchants believe.

“It might take a ballot measure to do it,” Rhine said, “but I think we will see change in Berkeley before too long.”