Political Kingmaker Wants the Crown : Legislature: Bob Hertzberg, who boosted the careers of many key officeholders, now seeks Assembly speakership.

Bob Hertzberg buzzes over to a bookcase and proudly displays the type of innovation that embodies his philosophy of government and, he believes, will help him become the next speaker of the California Assembly.

It is an encyclopedic set of training manuals--legislative Cliff’s Notes for the hordes of freshman lawmakers now populating the lower house.

Such advances are continually springing forth these days from the mind of Hertzberg, an unabashedly anal retentive Democrat who, if he could, would neatly tuck his 79 Assembly colleagues into individual Tupperware containers.

“This is the vision, man,” Hertzberg says, “the concept of what I am trying to do. We have hamburger stands all over California. But it took the vision of one man, Ray Kroc, to think of something that would work better, that would be more efficient.”

The days of larger-than-life figures such Jess “Big Daddy” Unruh and Willie Brown lording over the Assembly are long gone, done in by voter-approved term limits and, for better or worse, likely never to return.

So why shouldn’t their heir be a meticulous pragmatist who drops the name of a McDonald’s tycoon when explaining his plans for the Assembly: simpler, streamlined, and most of all, designed for fast consumption?

For more than two decades, Hertzberg, 44--a Westside lawyer, fund-raiser and strategist with a special affinity for the passionate blue-collar politics of the Eastside--has been working to loft up-and-coming politicians into office. Those he helped elect include some of the biggest stars in state and local politics today, from Assembly Speaker Antonio Villaraigosa to Los Angeles County Supervisor Gloria Molina and Sheriff Lee Baca.

Now Hertzberg, who lives in Sherman Oaks, is looking to boldly emerge from the shadows of those he has helped empower.

Villaraigosa’s roommate and right-hand man in Sacramento, Hertzberg is actively campaigning to succeed him if, as expected, Villaraigosa resigns to run for mayor of Los Angeles. Hertzberg would become the first San Fernando Valley speaker since Bob Moretti represented the same Van Nuys-centered district a quarter-century ago, and the first Jewish speaker since Edgar C. Levey in 1927.

Those who know Hertzberg say he has been preparing for this kind of opportunity all his life. In a profession well known for workaholics and organizational freaks, Hertzberg rates a crazy cut above the rest.

He prides himself on preparing intricate flow charts of state government, and color-coded diaries that catalog every tidbit of his legislative life.

He devours every obscure government code he can get his hands on to gain that extra edge, and is known as one of the better bill writers in the Capitol.

He takes the touchy-feely side of political greetings to another dimension, embracing everyone in sight to maintain his nickname of “Huggy Hertzberg,” the hardest-hugging man in Sacramento.

And whatever the nerdish Hertzberg might lack in grace, his wife, Cynthia Ann Telles--a physician, teacher, former city ethics commissioner, daughter of a pioneering Texas Latino politician, and prominent Los Angeles Latina in her own right--more than provides him.

In short, friends say, he is the right man at the right time for the speaker’s job.

“With term limits, you need someone to make sure new legislators are quickly up to snuff,” said Antonia Hernandez, president of the Mexican American Legal Defense and Education Fund. “You need someone like Bob to provide structure.”

All that, however, may not be enough to make Hertzberg czar of the Assembly, considered the second-most powerful post in state politics. Where some see an honest detail man, others see a Machiavellian schemer, too cozy with big business, and too moderate in general, to lead Assembly Democrats. Trial lawyers, a traditionally rich source of campaign contributions for Democrats, are said to be especially concerned about a Hertzberg speakership.

Some Latinos Oppose Him

Ironically, it is the very Latino power structure Hertzberg helped build that may pose his biggest obstacle.

Galvanized by an old Hertzberg combatant--Los Angeles state Sen. Richard Polanco--some members of the Legislature’s powerful Latino caucus are plotting to block Hertzberg’s move and instead pick one of their own, possibly Sylmar Assemblyman Tony Cardenas, as California’s third Latino speaker in a row. The caucus, which includes 13 Assembly members, has been critical in the selections of the last two speakers, Villaraigosa and Cruz Bustamante, now lieutenant governor. It met for more than three hours before the Legislature’s recent summer break and agreed to vote as a bloc on the speakership issue, several members said. But others, speaking on the condition of anonymity, said any such solidarity is tenuous at best.

One Democrat described Hertzberg’s problem this way: “Hertzberg has some pretty strong political relationships, but they’re not stronger than blood.”

Villaraigosa, who considers Hertzberg a close friend, said few are better equipped to handle the push-and-pull nature of the speaker’s job. He credits Hertzberg with handling many of the details behind the political triumphs he has enjoyed.

“I think he’s the consummate coalition builder,” Villaraigosa said. “He knows the city--and the state--is always clamoring for someone to reach across communities. That is what we need more of, and he has always been interested in that.”

However, Villaraigosa refuses to say whom he supports as his successor, noting that there are numerous other well-qualified candidates.

Hertzberg said he has been around politics too long, and his ties to Latino officeholders are too strong, for him to worry. He leaves open the possibility of pursuing a Los Angeles office, the city attorney position being vacated by mayoral candidate James Hahn, if he cannot succeed Villaraigosa on his own terms. Or he could simply return to his life as a successful corporate lawyer and businessman, he says, and not miss a thing.

Friends, however, say Hertzberg is putting up a brave front. How could he not take the Latino caucus threat personally after helping Latinos get elected for the past 20 years?

“I think he is very uncomfortable about the whole issue, because he is being judged by a standard he can never meet,” said Supervisor Molina, a close ally and friend. “He’s not a Latino and will never be a Latino, but the fact is that he has been there.”

Long-Standing Involvement

Perhaps more than any other white politician in Southern California, Hertzberg has been immersed for years in minority politics.

After an introduction through his father, a prominent constitutional lawyer, Hertzberg first worked for Mervyn Dymally during his successful 1974 run for lieutenant governor.

It was a life-altering experience for Hertzberg, who met farm-worker union legend Cesar Chavez and Bay Area political greats such as the late Rep. Phil Burton and then-Assemblyman Brown. He caught the political bug, and after graduating from Hastings College of Law in 1979, worked on numerous campaigns with Dymally in South-Central Los Angeles.

Appointed to the California Commission on Youth, Hertzberg became fast friends with another commissioner, activist Victor Griego, who introduced him to a different world of campaigning across the Los Angeles River. Hertzberg worked on campaigns for Richard Alatorre and later Molina, and became fascinated by the warmblooded atmosphere of Eastside politics.

“In my side of town, politics was about raising money and sending out mailers,” Hertzberg said of the Westside. “I saw politics as something different. I saw it as organizing, and that’s what it still was on the Eastside.”

Raising money, however, was one of the things Hertzberg did best, and he soon fell into a crowd of activists, union representatives, lawyers and businessmen who were willing to do their part to ensure the right people won political office.

Known as “The Group,” they met for breakfast on Olvera Street and discussed finding and backing candidates for the races of the day, not only the big ones such as Molina for Los Angeles City Council and county supervisor, but the small city and school board races that would serve as steppingstones for the next generation of leaders. They backed current state Sen. Hilda Solis for the Rio Hondo College board, and current Assemblywoman Nell Soto for the Pomona City Council.

Yet it is the core members of the group itself that wound up going farthest: Villaraigosa, Baca, Los Angeles Councilman Mike Hernandez, Rep. Xavier Becerra (D-Los Angeles). They were all assisted by Hertzberg, whose networking skills, political acumen and ability to reach across Los Angeles for cash quickly brought him into the inner circles of Latino power.

“He saw the trend, the old ‘sleeping giant,’ said businessman Luis Valenzuela, who worked with Hertzberg on many Eastside campaigns. “People say, who would have thought that we would have this many Latino elected officials? Bob knew.”

A typical Hertzberg success began with a 1993 memo he wrote for Baca, whom he dubbed the “PhD with a gun,” telling him the path he should follow to someday become sheriff. Last year, he chaired Baca’s successful campaign over Sherman Block, who died days before the election.

“He was a strong supporter of mine, from the beginning,” Baca, a Republican, said. “A lot of people say that now, but with Bob, it’s really true.”

As Baca and others point out, Hertzberg’s political calling card has always been his extraordinary attention to detail. It has always been that way, according to his mother, Antoinette “Bunny” Hertzberg. From his youngest days, she said, Hertzberg has been obsessed with order--and terrified of not being ready for whatever awaited him.

Obsession With Being Prepared

When he was in the second or third grade, she received a call from the elementary school staff, inquiring as to why “Bobby” had not been in attendance that day. She thought he had left for school, and immediately grew concerned. Then she heard a rustling in the garage.

“He couldn’t find his crayons,” Bunny Hertzberg, 74, recalled. “He didn’t want to go to school without them, so he hid in the garage. To this day, when I think of that incident, I think how important it was for him to be prepared.”

That urge for preparation quickly separated him from his greenhorn peers in Sacramento. First elected from a Valley district in 1996, Hertzberg quickly demonstrated he was no ordinary rookie. He was the first freshman ever named to chair the Assembly’s Public Safety Committee, and sponsored 23 bills that were signed into law his first term--including highly controversial legislation that stripped the Los Angeles City Council of its power to veto a Valley secession drive.

“Hertzberg came into the Legislature as a superfreshman,” said former Assembly Democratic leader Richard Katz, who closely watched Hertzberg’s rise from his own Valley base. “He was miles ahead of most of the wide-eyed newcomers when it came to understanding how politics actually worked.”

Hertzberg coasted to reelection last year, raising more than $800,000 and sprinkling it among Democrats who needed it in tight races. Villaraigosa awarded him the chair of the powerful Assembly Rules Committee, and made him his top negotiator on a variety of divisive issues critical to the speaker. These included a record $9.2-billion school bond measure, and a major water deal to allow San Diego to buy surplus water from Imperial Valley farmers through an aqueduct owned by the Metropolitan Water District.

“He has been a big part in my success, no question,” Villaraigosa said. “A lot of my successes have really been his successes, too.”

Though Hertzberg had already established himself as a formidable force in Los Angeles politics, his marriage to Telles raised him into a new stratum, and gave him an invaluable resource of political wisdom, friends say. Telles, 46, is the daughter of Raymond L. Telles, a former El Paso mayor who later served as ambassador to Costa Rica under President Kennedy and head of the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission under President Nixon. He has provided Hertzberg advice at key times in his political career.

“It’s a great combination,” said former county supervisor and councilman Ed Edelman, a close friend of Telles who performed the vows at her 1995 wedding to Hertzberg. “Together, they are really something.”

Part of the faculty at the UCLA school of medicine, Telles is considered political material herself. She was strongly courted to run for the House seat vacated by Edward R. Roybal, the patriarch of California Latino politics, earlier this decade, but declined. She also happens to be the cousin of Monica Lozano, executive editor of La Opinion, Los Angeles’ influential Spanish-language newspaper. Together, Telles and Hertzberg have three children from previous marriages.

If Hertzberg becomes the first Jewish speaker in more than 70 years, it appears he may owe it at least in part to the advice of a Latina.

“His best friend is me. I know it sounds trite, but it’s true. We share everything,” Telles said. “It’s the big joke in Sacramento. But yes, it has actually evolved that way. We discuss all the major issues, and I know he listens to what I have to say.”