Mayoral Candidates Seek Key to L.A.’s Black Voters

When City Atty. James K. Hahn ascended the pulpit of First AME Church on Sunday, he was greeted with warm applause from the congregation and enthusiastic hugs from the assembled ministers. In one pew, an older man nodded and muttered: “Yes.”

Hahn spoke briefly, without notes, over the quiet rhythm of an electric bass. He talked about AIDS and homelessness, community and understanding. And he delivered a memory that spoke to the intersection of the lives of Martin Luther King Jr., whose birthday was celebrated Monday, and his own father, legendary Los Angeles County Supervisor Kenneth Hahn. When King came to Los Angeles in 1961, just after his electrifying stand against racism in Birmingham, Ala., only one elected official, black or white, dared to greet him at the airport, Jim Hahn recalled. That person: “My dad.”

That’s a story only a Hahn can tell, and it goes a long way toward explaining why the conventional political wisdom, such as it is, makes Hahn the prohibitive favorite among African Americans in the campaign to become Los Angeles’ next mayor--a race that won’t be decided until 2001 but that already is well underway.

Believers cite five reasons for their faith in Hahn’s standing among blacks:

* His father represented South-Central for decades, won 10 elections in that area and was a beloved figure in many of its neighborhoods, including the one where Jim Hahn grew up and where his mother still lives.

* Jim Hahn is a moderate to liberal Democrat whose politics are in tune with those of many in the city’s black leadership.

* He has won five citywide elections, always with the support of African Americans.

* In 1997, he clobbered lawyer Ted Stein, a Mayor Richard Riordan-backed challenger, by particularly large margins in the city’s most heavily black communities, where nearly 90% of those who voted cast ballots for Hahn.

* No African American candidate has emerged thus far, leaving him without an obvious challenger for that slice of the electorate.

Opponents See Vulnerability

All those facts point to Hahn’s advantages, but the conventional wisdom is wrong almost as often as it’s right. And as a result, even in the early stages of the long run for mayor, the rest of the field views Hahn as potentially vulnerable among African Americans, who make up 12% to 15% of the voters in a typical mayoral election.

Assembly Speaker Antonio Villaraigosa is challenging Hahn from the left, producing endorsements from his colleagues in the Legislature, school board President Genethia Hayes and other civic leaders.

Already, less than four months after entering the race, Villaraigosa has amassed the largest slate of endorsements from African American elected officials. Villaraigosa’s appeal, so far, seems strongest among young, more liberal blacks; his challenge is that, historically, those people have not formed the bulk of the local black electorate.

Commercial real estate broker Steve Soboroff has the backing of a lower-profile group, including community fixture Sweet Alice Harris and a number of local ministers. He finds some support among those who feel Hahn is too brazenly attempting to cash in on his father’s legacy. Activist Charlotte Austin-Jordan, for instance, remembers Kenny Hahn and his children checking in on her father when she was young.

“That family would come visit us,” she said fondly. “But you don’t deserve to become mayor because you inherited it. It’s about who can do the job.”

Finally, City Councilman Joel Wachs, the fourth announced candidate and the one with the least obvious connections to Los Angeles blacks, nevertheless has emerged as the council’s leading champion of neighborhood councils. That, according to Wachs and some observers, could give him traction with African Americans and others who feel their connection to City Hall is strained. In addition, Wachs, like Hahn, grew up in South-Central.

As those candidates attempt to market themselves to African Americans, they encounter a community at a precarious and anxious moment. Many traditionally black neighborhoods have felt neglected by Riordan and have chafed at the influx of immigrants, most of them Latino.

Moreover, the city’s African American voters and its African American population overall are different in important ways. African American voters tend to be older than the black population generally and they include more women than men. They tend to be politically liberal but culturally conservative, often tied to a strong network of churches and deeply rooted in family and traditional values.

The significance of those voters, generally older black women, has played out for years in Los Angeles politics. One sign of their influence: Even when the Los Angeles Police Department had deeply alienated many young blacks, older black voters turned out election after election to vote for police bonds.

In fact, no area of the city voted more strongly for those bonds over the years than South-Central, the same area that suffered the worst damage from the 1992 riots sparked by the acquittals of LAPD officers in the Rodney G. King beating case.

An area that tends to favor political liberals and cultural conservatives fits nicely with Hahn, a moderately liberal city attorney as well as a father, a lifelong member of the Church of Christ and a child of the neighborhood. Many of those older women who dominate African American voters watched Jim Hahn grow up and look on him as a kind of nephew once-removed. They will be hard-pressed to vote against a man they see as practically a relative.

But some observers question whether Hahn is invincible among blacks. His challengers are gambling that African American voters will drift away from him as the campaign wears on--as they tire of his dry style, confront the fact that he is not his father, and hold him to a higher standard as a mayoral candidate than they have in his campaigns for controller and city attorney.

“I think he’s the Barry Goldwater Jr. of this election,” Soboroff campaign consultant Ace Smith said of Hahn. “You can get elected to all these low-grade offices without people paying much attention. But they look harder at someone who wants one of the next-tier offices: mayor, senator, governor . . . I don’t think Jim makes it to that level.”

Hahn advisors scoff at that reasoning, and especially dismiss Soboroff’s potential for making significant inroads among blacks.

“He can spend all the time he wants in South-Central and Watts, and all we need to do is send out one mailer that says: ‘Steve Soboroff, rich, white Republican friend of Mayor Riordan,’ and that’s it for him,” one Hahn advisor said.

By contrast, Hahn and his family need no introduction in South-Central.

Bill Elkins, a longtime advisor to Mayor Tom Bradley, smiles when asked how long he’s known Hahn.

“I was about to say, ‘Since he was a gleam in his father’s eye,’ ” he said. Elkins, like so many African American leaders, watched Jim Hahn grow up, shuttled from community meeting to community meeting by his gregarious, proud father. Elkins and Bradley were there for Hahn when he ran for city attorney; Bradley died last year, but Elkins is still there, still for Hahn.

At one community meeting last week, Elkins and Councilman Nate Holden, once an aide to Kenneth Hahn, were there to introduce the son. As his father did countless times, Jim Hahn addressed a small group of ministers in a church basement. Over eggs and grits, sausage and fried chicken, he reminded them of his father’s legacy and his own.

He recalled his father’s role in building the community hospital and his devotion to the little things. Famous for filling every pothole, Kenny Hahn exemplified politics as constituent service, and Jim Hahn said he has tried to follow that example. The audience of preachers nodded in agreement, and enthusiastically pledged their support.

Indeed, Hahn’s endorsements from leading members of the black clergy dwarf those of his rivals, both in numbers and influence. Bishop Charles Blake, who has the city’s largest congregation, backs Hahn. So does the Rev. Cecil Murray, head of the politically active First AME Church, where Hahn spoke Sunday. And so does the Rev. William Epps, senior pastor at the historic 2nd Baptist Church, which long ago hosted the Rev. King. The Baptist Ministers’ Conference also supports the city attorney, though that organization is struggling with internal divisions.

“If there were an African American candidate, it would be more problematic for Hahn,” said Councilman Mark Ridley-Thomas, who has not endorsed anyone. “As it is, there is a great sense of familiarity for him and for his family.”

One serious though rarely spoken question regarding African Americans in Los Angeles politics is whether, as a group, their clout is waning. As a percentage of the electorate, their numbers are dwindling, and council districts that once were overwhelmingly black become more Latino by the year.

Riordan won the mayor’s office in 1993 without significant black support. He was reelected in 1997 without it again, even though every other demographic group in the city favored him over state Sen. Tom Hayden.

What Riordan demonstrated in both those campaigns is that a strong candidate can be elected without majority support among African Americans. But Riordan had the benefits in 1993 of a bitterly disenchanted electorate and in 1997 of a weak challenger.

Historic Anxieties Pose Problems

Today the mayoral field is full and growing. Each of the contenders is seeking to establish a base and to encroach on his rivals’. Because of his record and family history, Hahn is presumed to be starting with solid backing from African Americans, but if he falters with them, it could signal what political pros call “trouble in your base.”

For Wachs and Villaraigosa, their determination to make inroads among blacks is hampered by some of the African American community’s historic anxieties. Some African Americans resent the increasing political strength of Latinos, and may find it difficult to pull the lever for Villaraigosa. Many African American voters’ identities are intertwined with their churches and may find it hard to support Wachs, an openly gay man.

Still, both candidates are personable and carry messages that could resonate among African Americans.

“I honestly believe the pundits focus on racial politics more than people do,” said Villaraigosa, whose personal and political messages emphasize the need for racial sensitivity and cooperation. “At the end of the day, I really believe that the people--whether they are black, Latino, Anglo, whoever--will vote for the best candidate.”

Wachs agreed. “In the end, every candidate is going to have to stand on his own,” he said. “I’ve already been getting some good support, and there’s enough time to build a base.”

That leaves Soboroff, who has his own strengths and weaknesses. Soboroff’s main appeal, according to a group of his African American supporters, is his long devotion to issues that affect their community. Soboroff has been involved in improving parks and in education, for instance, and has personally participated in a number of community events in Watts.

He served as a Big Brother to a local child, and for several years he has played Santa Claus at a Watts Christmas event.

That personal touch impresses many who have gotten to know Soboroff.

“This is about understanding,” said Dr. Benjamin Hardwick, president of the Western Baptist State Convention. “This is about people we can touch. . . . Steve asked me what he can do. I told him, ‘Keep doing what you’re doing.’ ”

Soboroff’s challenge, however, is how to build on that warm feeling. African Americans have not generally supported Republicans, much less rich, white Republicans. And African Americans in Los Angeles, as a group, are not fond of Riordan, whose backing is Soboroff’s principal claim to legitimacy.

At lunch last week, half a dozen Soboroff supporters, all of them African American, gathered in a private dining room at the City Club. All pledged their support to Soboroff, but when Riordan’s name was mentioned, a few seemed hesitant.

“When there’s been an option, this community has not supported Riordan’s candidacy or his tenure,” Ridley-Thomas, who was not at that meeting, explained later. “If one advances oneself as Riordan, or the second coming of Riordan, I don’t know that that plays particularly well. And with good reason.”

Egerton Forster, a leading Soboroff supporter, agreed, but said Soboroff will overcome it.

“Mayor Riordan, when it comes to the African American community, falls short a little bit,” he said. “But Steve will come into the community, take off his coat and talk. Forget about being endorsed by Mayor Riordan. Steve is here.”