At Play With Fire

Pete Wilson visited Southern California wildfire country last week to begin an assault on affirmative action. The choice of setting seemed odd. An office water cooler might have provided a more appropriate backdrop, since the fury he wants to tap is found most readily at places where white guys gather to grumble over promotions lost to you-know-who, the you-know-what. Or perhaps he should have stood in a schoolhouse door somewhere; that bit of symbolism certainly would have reached his intended audience.

Instead, he brought a large entourage here, to a lush little canyon with a clear view of Santa Monica Bay, to a spot only a ridgeline or two removed from the borders of the last big fire to sweep the coast. His business as governor was to sign an executive order that would alter some affirmative action programs in state government. His purpose as presidential candidate--which is to say, his main purpose--was to attract as many television cameras as possible, and so someone in the campaign had made the correct calculation: Los Angeles stations always will jump at any opportunity to air canned footage of wildfires.

To play to the cameras, there first would be a show. . . . With big, red firetrucks, lights flashing. . . . And fire crews in their familiar yellow suits, fighting imaginary fires. . . . And testimonials about what it’s like to face down an inferno while wondering whether “the guy behind you with the hose is there because he’s the most qualified for the job, and not because of the color of his skin.”

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The governor is still not speaking in public: doctor’s orders. His slow recovery from minor throat surgery six weeks ago has created major trouble for his presidential ambitions. After a tremendous initial splash, his campaign has all but vanished. The latest polls put him way behind the pack leaders, even in California. Contributions have waned. He’s in trouble.

Thus, this media event in the Santa Monica Mountains was no small matter. Wilson needed to create noise, even if through surrogates. And so he brought along about half his Cabinet to field questions from the press. And he brought a small army of California Department of Forestry officials. Their assignment was to attempt the gravity-defying leap needed to make affirmative action a fire safety issue: “You see,” one department spokesman offered, pointing to houses on the ridgeline, “the people who live around here understand how important it is to have the best firefighting crews available.”

As two CDF crews battled imaginary flames, Wilson stood nearby in his gray suit and black tasseled loafers and watched, nodding, pointing and acting as interested in hose-laying technique as any human can be. Next he moved to a small clearing filled with folding chairs and camera tripods and listened as eight pre-selected CDF employees--men and women of many colors--shared with him some downsides of affirmative action.

All seemed to agree that diversity goals ordered for the CDF in the 1980s, when the department was the state’s most notorious bastion of white male hiring, were no longer needed. And they thanked the governor for eliminating them with his executive order. If it occurred to any of these firefighters that, without these goals, their individual merits might never have been discovered--well, this was a point none chose to make.

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Wilson departed after he signed the order, leaving subordinates to explain its import: “A first step,” said one. “A good start,” said another. “Symbolism,” concluded the assembled press. The event nonetheless was a success for Wilson. He attracted 19 television cameras and through them delivered a message to every water cooler in the land: For those who believe too many jobs are going to you-know-who, here’s your guy.

This is the kind of politics that works for Wilson. Find what makes people mad, and then stir. Unfortunately, not everybody will grasp that it’s just politics, a show. There are those who will believe Wilson truly intends to take the country back to the good old days, when white males dominated the middle ranks of workdom as thoroughly as they do the top jobs today. Worse, there are those who will believe the journey back can be as easy as he says. Go to a media event. Sign a piece of paper. And hello, 1950.

It won’t be easy. What it could be is ugly, divisive and hurtful. What actually was on display in that canyon Thursday was a candidate who, determined to take his own talent to the top, has chosen to play with fire. And should it ever catch a wind and jump the lines, he would not know even how to begin to control it.