When a Deputy Mayor May Be as Crucial as the Mayor

Too many government agencies are acting like junior high school cliques. For years, LAPD Chief Daryl F. Gates and Mayor Tom Bradley did not speak to each other. Then, the state Fair Political Practices Commission refused to work with the executive director of the city’s Ethics Commission. Now, City Atty. James Hahn refuses to discuss litigation matters with the mayor’s office because Michael F. Keeley, the mayor’s chief operating officer, shared the city’s legal strategy with an opponent in a pending lawsuit. Finally, the City Council voted 10-3 that it has no confidence in the principal architect--Keeley--of next year’s city budget.

But Keeley’s conflict with the city attorney and City Council is more than an intramural spat: It threatens to unhinge the Riordan administration and set it adrift. It is a crisis that goes to the heart of Richard Riordan’s style of governance and reaches deep into the city bureaucracy. The anger it has generated in the city’s politicians and bureaucrats is fueled, in part, by three years of having to stomach the tacit assumption, subtly and not so subtly conveyed, that the mayor’s office knows best, that its ends matter far more than complying with the old political ways that governed Los Angeles. Shaking up the system is one thing; ignoring the commitment, impugning the motives and insulting the intelligence of city workers and elected officials is another. The current target is not just Keeley, but the mayor and others whom he has brought in to “shape up” the city.

No one disputes Keeley’s abilities, intellectual and managerial. More important, he is Riordan’s oldest and most trusted friend in government. Riordan’s and Keeley’s relationship is not unlike that of father and son and, as such, probably locks others out, but enables Keeley to argue with his boss in a way few others ever do or dare.

If Keeley is forced to leave, the Riordan administration’s best chance of providing leadership in the adoption of a sensible city budget will be lost. The mayor may put more trust in his advisors than is appropriate, but eliminating them entirely is not the best solution, either.

If Keeley stays, he and Riordan, along with the remainder of the mayor’s staff, will have to learn a lesson that seems, so far, to have eluded them: Politics is not about being the smartest. Rather, it is

about people, values, issues and procedure--all of which must be respected.

Keeley has acknowledged “some errors in judgment,” although the matter of his sharing confidential city documents could be much more serious. The council’s response is really pay-back time for three years of an administration that characterizes opposition as disloyalty; of implying that anyone who disagrees with the mayor’s office does so because he or she is immature or has a political motive, and of thinking of those on the other side as the enemy and treating them accordingly.

Punishment, however, may have more serious consequences for the city than for its chief operating officer. Keeley has enemies because he has been abusive in getting his way, not necessarily because he wanted to do the wrong things. A major lesson for Riordan is that he needs to develop stronger personal relations with each member of the council and his department heads. He should meet regularly with them--not just at their urging, and not just when a crisis arises.

Without Keeley, the Riordan administration will probably “drift,” as one close observer noted. The budget that Keeley has crafted for the past three years is not just a compilation of projected numbers; it is blend of promises and their fiscal implications that only he and Chief Legislative Analyst Ron Deaton fully understand. A city budget is a political document embodying some clear objectives while masking others the better to give them the force of law. Keeley and Deaton, by most accounts, enjoy a good working relationship. It would be a great loss if it were broken.

The city attorney and the council responded to Keeley’s conduct appropriately and with cause. The anger and frustration unleased by his “error in judgment” may be too great to start over. After all, no one is really indispensable, but Keeley’s ouster would be like toppling the prince. He really is the mayor’s chief operating officer.

The public world is rough. People get hurt. Keeley still has a great deal to offer the city. He needs to recognize and learn from the intensity of the anger he has generated. Many people respect him; he should respect them, and most particularly, respect the process. If he doesn’t change, he should go. He will survive not being in City Hall, but it will be hard for him, and especially hard for the mayor and his administration, if he is forced to leave.*