LAPD : The Williams Flap: Take It Behind Closed Doors:

The Los Angeles Police Department has begun yet another act in its continuing tragi-comic opera. In part, the latest turn is the result of two competing, if not contradictory, public values: the need to resolve problems, and the need to safeguard democracy. The current crisis, however, may offer a way to uphold these two values without requiring us to engage in self-destructive behavior, as has been our experience when dealing with the Police Department and its chiefs.

This time, we have Police Chief Willie L. Williams, whose management of the department and truthfulness are under fire; a Police Commission, whose membership is new and whose authority is stronger as a result of Charter Amendment F; a hostile, defensive Police Protective League anxious about how the Christopher Commission reforms will be carried out, and Mayor Richard Riordan, who is impatient to deliver on his campaign promise to put more officers on the street.

The issue has a familiar ring. The LAPD is a closed, quasi-military culture that is difficult to change from the outside--and anyone who has not come up through the ranks and stayed within the department is an outsider. That includes the Police Commission, City Council members who have not sold their souls to the LAPD, the mayor when he opts for achieving other goals and the chief who, before coming to the LAPD, spent his life in law enforcement working for the “wrong” department.

In all this, there is no composer, no conductor who can bring down the final curtain. No one has sufficient power to imagine a resolution.

A few weeks ago, the Washington-based Police Foundation issued a report written by the Police Commission that served during the last two years of the Bradley Administration. The commission was headed by Stanley K. Sheinbaum and included Ann Reiss Lane, Jesse A. Brewer, Anthony De Los Reyes and Michael R. Yamaki. They were members during the worst of times--the struggles with Daryl F. Gates, the first efforts to implement the Christopher Commission recommendations, and the riots. When a new mayor was elected and appointed his own commission, these five citizens tried to sort out for themselves exactly what they did, what they could accomplish and what they couldn’t fix.

A big problem for them was the environment in which they conducted business. The Brown Act, a state law requiring openness in government decision-making, prohibits meetings by more than two public officials that are not open to the public. The law serves an important function in a democracy, but it makes careful decision-making excruciatingly hard. As the report put it: “How was the commission to deal with the increasingly confrontational interactions with the chief of police if commissioners couldn’t even discuss the issue, except in a situation that was guaranteed to escalate the level of confrontation? Even sitting down and having a frank give-and-take discussion regarding an approach to a problem, let alone discussing the problem itself, would have violated the Brown Act.”

When dealing with the chief of the LAPD, this aspect of the law can create trouble. For example, personnel matters, though not covered by the Brown Act, can quickly evolve into a public crisis. Add the difficulty of conducting delicate public business in an environment--a commission hearing--easily exploited by kooks. In the case of Williams, a personnel matter--his competence and his truthfulness--has escalated into a power struggle over the direction of the LAPD.

The city has changed around the Police Department. Citizens want the department to do something for which it is ill-prepared--and it doesn’t want to do it: put more police officers on the street. It stands to reason that those opposing change would look for holes in the walls closing in on them. In Williams’ controversy, someone clearly has a goal of making him look bad. Unfortunately, the chief, no doubt angry over the news leaks of commission memos, has embarked on a high-profile mission to defend himself.

Williams knew it was going to be tough replacing Gates because he was an outsider, because he was an African American coming to a department with a reputation for racism, because the city was conflicted about who and what should be blamed for its troubles. His major accomplishment is clearly an improved public attitude toward the LAPD.

His major stumbling block is the insularity of the department. Because some of the Christopher reforms are in place, the Police Commission has a much stronger role to play now, which heightens the pressure on everyone. It is appropriate for the commission to oversee the chief. It is not surprising that conflicts occur. It is unfortunate that its questioning of Williams’ judgment is playing out in a way that challenges his leadership. It may be that great leaders are not necessarily great human beings, but in today’s environment, it is hard to be the former without the latter, or at the least the appearance of the latter.

The tragedy for Los Angeles is that the LAPD needs leadership and, at the moment at least, every player is second-guessing everyone else. If we don’t get beyond this game, we risk another round of escalating tensions with racial overtones.

While the Brown Act makes it difficult to conduct day-to-day business, it must be remembered that it does not extend to personnel matters. Without making any judgments about who said what to whom, or who broke the confidentiality of a closed meeting and private memo, the best outcome for the city would be to use this crisis as a point of departure for re-evaluating what the commission wants the chief to do, and how he plans to do it. The worst outcome would be to let the squabbling spiral down from name-calling to the point where the participants stop speaking to each other. We have been there before.

If the commission, the mayor, the chief and every other interested player met face-to-face--in private--there is a chance they could start over. The Williams’ flap provides an unusual opportunity to find a way beyond impasse and work together in the future. It is time to hear the fat lady sing.