Davis Wisely Resists Beltway Siren Songs

So you’re California governor, pooh-bah of the Pacific, grandee of the Golden State, conquistador of the Big Enchilada. So what does it get you?

Well, there’s a swell corner office in the Capitol. A decent, six-figure salary. A car and driver, bodyguards, free Oscar passes . . . and a place on the mythical short list of every Beltway blowhard and Sunday morning swami who ever ran with the Washington pundit pack. If there was any doubt that Gray Davis has arrived as the Gray Eminence of national politics, it was banished forever when the new governor ventured last week to our nation’s capital. There, he sought to dispel the gossip breathlessly mongered from the chat shows on high to the city streets below: the notion that Davis would be decamping Sacramento to assume a place--heck, it’s a lead pipe cinch--as the No. 2 guy on the White House ticket in 2000.

Davis responded with commendably little equivocation. “Let me give you an answer in one word: No,” he said on NBC’s “Meet the Press,” Under no circumstances? “None,” he replied.

Thus ended speculation once and for all--until, of course, it starts again.

A bit of perspective: The Davis administration is scarcely older than the average life cycle of a fruit fly. He has made a mere fraction of the 2,000 appointments at his disposal, barely settling into that corner office he coveted for close to half of his 56 years.

Still, the pot boils and conjecture brews, not because of anything Davis has accomplished in his scant time as governor. Rather, for a more Everest-like reason: Because he’s there.

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Before the money, before California’s mega-state status, there was the myth.

Today, the state’s political allure can be summed up briefly: 54 electoral votes. Add in California’s mother lode of generous campaign donors and the import is obvious. “There’s one great grand prize” in the presidential sweepstakes, said Washington political analyst Doug Bailey, “and if you figure a way to take it away from the other guy, you’re a long way toward home base.”

But even when California ranked fifth in size, back when the Golden State trailed New York, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Ohio in population, there was an allure that instantly transformed the state’s top politicians into top national prospects. Starting with Earl Warren, who ran as the Republican vice presidential nominee in 1948, every California governor since has either sought national office or, at least, been talked up for the national ticket.

“In the ‘40s and ‘50s, even more so than today, California was seen as the land of opportunity, a virtually golden example of all that is positive about the United States,” said Ken Khachigian, a native son and veteran GOP consultant who followed Californians Richard Nixon and Ronald Reagan to the White House. “Putting someone from here on the ticket was a symbolic gesture, a recognition of the constant hope that people possess of growth and opportunity.”

In time, reality overtook that rhapsody and a California-centric strategy became more than sentimentality. As Khachigian put it, “The symbol evolved into an electoral powerhouse.” California, by itself, now commands fully one-fifth of the 270 electoral votes needed to win the White House--a stake that will surely increase after the next national head count in 2000.

“The only thing most political insiders know about California is that it’s really sunny and we have 54 electoral votes,” said Dan Schnur, a GOP strategist and former advisor to Gov. Pete Wilson. “Without any more information than that, they figure the best way to reach out to California is to put a Californian on the ticket.”

Hence the Davis drumbeat.

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Wilson heard the tom-toms. Slowly at first, then more insistent. Coming off his slam-bam 1994 reelection, he was lord of the Left Coast. Seduced, Wilson waged a presidential campaign that proved staggeringly ill-conceived, the more so because he probably squandered any future political prospects.

The whole premise of Wilson’s 1996 candidacy--the promise of locking up California’s rich electoral trove and giving Republicans a giant head start--was undermined by the fact that home state voters never warmed to Wilson’s endeavor.

Larry Thomas, another former Wilson advisor, said: “Pete learned the very hard way that there’s a big part of the electorate that says, ‘We elected you to do a job and we’re not enamored with you running off right away looking for another.’ ”

It’s a lesson Davis has taken to heart. “That example is still very vivid in Gray’s mind,” said Garry South, the governor’s chief political strategist. “It’s still very vivid in the minds of California voters, frankly.”

It’s a lesson apparently lost on Washington’s talking heads, spinning their fanciful scenarios to fill the post-impeachment void. The difference is, politicians who act on those impulses have to face the consequences.