Developer Money Pours Into Campaign Coffers of Officials
In March 1987, Orange County developer Baldwin Builders Inc. did something it had done only twice in four years: It contributed money to a Los Angeles County supervisor, in this case $5,000 to Mike Antonovich.
One month later, brothers James and Alfred Baldwin, who headed the firm, applied to Los Angeles County for permission to develop 1,500 homes across an environmentally sensitive, 1,270-acre tract of the Santa Monica Mountains.
That pattern repeated itself numerous times in the last two decades as developers tried--and often succeeded--to persuade supervisors to relax building restrictions in the Santa Monica Mountains.
In the Baldwin case, the company and its officers, engineers and consultants gave $46,300 more to Antonovich and other supervisors during the four-year approval process, according to reports filed with the county.
After a tortuous political battle, the company won permission in 1991 to build 550 homes on land originally designated for 138. In return for building more homes, the Baldwin brothers agreed to convey 624 acres to the Santa Monica Mountains Conservancy for a wildlife corridor.
On the day that deal was approved, the Baldwins persuaded supervisors to create a special tax district that was later used to pay them for the wildlife corridor. The vote gave the developers $18.9 million at the expense of homeowners in the project who continue to foot the bill through higher property taxes.
One month later, Baldwin Builders Inc. donated $4,000 to Antonovich’s campaign and $5,000 to then-Supervisor Deane Dana, campaign contribution reports show.
About a week after their last scheduled inspection on the project in August 1991, the company made its last donation on record--$1,350 to Antonovich.
The Baldwins did not return phone calls nor respond to a certified letter seeking an interview.
Antonovich said that contributions play no part in his decisions on a project.
“People who donate to my campaign are supporting my philosophy. I’m not supporting theirs,” he said.
In other cases reviewed by The Times, supervisors or their appointees on the planning commission first forced developers to provide a public benefit, then later let them off the financial hook.
When Leonard M. Ross won tentative approval for his plan to build a subdivision in the Monte Nido area in 1982, he also was required to build three low-income housing units.
But by the time Quaker Corp., which listed Ross as president, was ready to build, it asked county planning commissioners to drop the condition, calling compliance “not feasible.”
Two weeks later, on Feb. 17, 1987, the engineering firm on the project, B&E; Engineers, donated $1,000 to Antonovich, records show. On Feb. 27, Rossco Holdings Inc., with Ross as president, donated $2,000--the first donation made in his company’s name to a supervisor in at least four years, records show.
After planning commissioners rejected the request, B&E; Engineers gave $800 to then-Supervisor Pete Schabarum.
Two months later, saying that they had rescinded a similar condition on another project, the commissioners reversed themselves, dropping the requirement.
The next February, Ross gave $1,000 to Antonovich, the last contribution made in his name to date, records show.
Ross did not return phone calls or respond to a certified letter from The Times. Jim Emerson, president of B&E; and a civil engineer who has designed more projects than any other in the Santa Monicas--and has, along with his company, contributed $18,310 to county supervisors since 1984--said there was no connection between his donation and the commission’s vote.
Seeking Access to Officeholders
Emerson said he views his donations as a means of ensuring access. He emphasized that he has never expected anything for a contribution, nor seen politicians sell a vote for a donation.
“My philosophy on political contributions is that you want the politicians to know who you are,” he said. “If a project comes up and you want to go in and talk to them, you want them to know who you are.
“That’s the way the system works,” Emerson said.
Other developers said their contributions were a means of supporting pro-growth candidates.
Beverly Hills developer Herman Rappaport and his company gave $4,300 combined to Antonovich and Dana while his 326-acre subdivision, Mountain Park Estates, was under review. He said he expected nothing from his contributions.
In fact, Rappaport said, he only gave money after the two supervisors’ campaigns invited him to attend fund-raising dinners. “Politics didn’t play any part in this thing,” said Rappaport. “We had a good plan that they could accept. It had nothing to do with expecting any quid pro quo.”
Until two years ago, there were no limits on campaign contributions for county races. Millions of dollars in special interest money poured into political campaigns, sometimes as much as $500,000 on a single night.
Then in 1996, voters approved an ordinance limiting donations to $200. The amount increases to $1,000 in a supervisorial race if the candidate agrees to spend less than about $1.3 million, depending on the number of voters. All restrictions are lifted if a wealthy candidate pumps more than $300,000 of his own money into the campaign.
Antonovich said he thinks the law is too restrictive. He said the limitations benefit incumbent and rich politicians who are able to raise money more easily than challengers.
“What we need is to have full disclosure of campaign contributions, which we do,” he said.
Others say the law doesn’t go far enough.
Craig Holman, the project director for the Center for Governmental Studies, said the ordinance was a ploy designed to allow politicians to escape tougher limits created by Proposition 208, a statewide reform measure that passed the same year and that is now being challenged in the courts.
The county’s limits should more closely reflect the proposition, which keeps donations to a maximum of $500 for legislative races and sets tougher spending caps, Holman said.
He also favors an Orange County ordinance that prohibits those who have business before the board, such as contractors, from contributing to campaigns.
“When you see voters becoming increasingly disenchanted with politics, it’s because they believe that politicians are all on the take and corrupt, and only wealth can get through politics,” Holman said. “It casts aspersion on the quality of our democratic governance.”
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Times researcher Stephanie Stassel contributed to this story.
