Convention Gets City’s $4 Million--at a Price

The hosts of this summer’s Democratic National Convention eked out a victory Friday in their fight for a $4-million public subsidy, but only after City Councilwoman Jackie Goldberg used her decisive vote to extract concessions that cheered activists, alarmed downtown business owners, worried police and cost Mayor Richard Riordan $1 million of his own money.

From the start, it was clear that Goldberg was in the driver’s seat: Proponents of the subsidy needed eight votes to prevail, and without Goldberg, they had just seven. A canny and tough politician, the councilwoman used her leverage to extract a number of concessions, most of them intended to help demonstrators who are coming to Los Angeles to protest and speak out in the days before, during and after the Democratic gathering Aug. 14-17.

Chief among Goldberg’s amendments was one to designate Pershing Square a gathering area for the thousands of demonstrators expected. The small park lies in the heart of the business district, across the street from the historic Biltmore Hotel and adjacent to the jewelry district.

Business owners and police were appalled at the idea of turning the square into a protest center. LAPD Deputy Chief Maurice Moore warned against it, as did a parade of business owners, who warned of rampaging demonstrators marauding through the jewelry stores and endangering delegates scheduled to stay at the Biltmore.

Carol Schatz, president of the Central City Assn., said her members support the right of free expression and hope that demonstrators will not clash violently with police.

“But we cannot guarantee it,” she added. “And you, as a council, cannot guarantee it.”

She was countered by a few of those who are organizing the August demonstrations. They said Pershing Square would offer them a central place to confer and assemble, not to act up.

“We’re not looking for a place for confrontation,” one organizer told the council. “What we’re looking for here is a place where people can gather safely.”

Goldberg did not yield to the business and police reservations, though she did withdraw one aspect of her proposal. After initially proposing that Pershing Square be renamed “1st Amendment Square” for the duration of the convention, she yielded, conceding that it was a bad idea.

“Why not just call it Che Guevara square and get it over with?” one council aide opposing the public subsidy groused from the sidelines. Others suggested “Red Square.”

Police objected to Goldberg’s proposal on several grounds. Moore and Cmdr. Tom Lorenzen warned against concentrating protesters so close to the Biltmore and the jewelry district and noted that authorities have been working for months to make arrangements for a protest site in a parking lot near Staples Center. The two police officials also warned against another aspect of Goldberg’s motion--a proposal to create a special committee to advise police on how to handle arrangements for the expected demonstrations.

Goldberg and other council members tried to assure police that they were not attempting to complicate security arrangements or impose an unmanageable system on the LAPD. But Moore continued to express reservations about some aspects of the councilwoman’s approach. Police Chief Bernard C. Parks is expected to brief council members next week on security arrangements, but efforts to delay a vote on Goldberg’s proposal until then failed.

Her more mischievous amendment was aimed at Riordan, whom she openly dislikes and who reciprocates that feeling. Because of the councilwoman, Riordan will literally pay for supporting the subsidy.

That’s because he and developer Ed Roski have each given a binding pledge to the Democratic National Convention Committee, the organization that actually stages the gathering.

Those pledges--letters of credit--commit each man to a $1-million contribution if the convention fund-raising falls short, and Goldberg’s motion prohibits the city from releasing any public funds until all outstanding letters of credit are cashed. The bottom line: The convention doesn’t get its city money until Riordan comes up with $1 million of his own.

Noelia Rodriguez, who heads the host committee for the convention, said Riordan and Roski were aware of the terms agreed to Friday.

“They certainly knew that the letters of credit were in play,” she said.

In fact, for many of the council members, the tough choice Friday was how to support a contribution that would help the national Democratic Party--the council is overwhelmingly Democratic--without bailing Riordan out of a jam. Some resolved that conflict by voting for the measure while complaining about the mayor.

Councilman Mark Ridley-Thomas, for instance, complained that normal budget requests from council members are often rebuffed because Riordan says the city needs to save money for legal bills resulting from the Rampart police scandal. Not so in this case, in which Riordan played no direct role but supported the subsidy and had his staff help lobby for it. “We didn’t hear one word about Rampart today,” Ridley-Thomas said.

The public subsidy for the convention erupted as such a volatile issue mainly because convention advocates initially secured the event by promising that they would not ask for any taxpayer money. The city had long agreed to provide security and transportation services, but had never committed to putting up cash for the event, estimated to cost $35.3 million for the convention itself and a few million more for related activities.

Despite an aggressive fund-raising drive spearheaded by Riordan himself, the host committee has found it hard going in raising the needed money. And with time running out--a set of bills comes due July 1 that some insiders say there isn’t enough money to pay--the host committee finally turned to the city in desperation.

It’s members argued that even though they had hoped to stage the event without public money, $4 million is still a pittance next to the $132 million that the convention is expected to generate for the local economy, not to mention the long-term value of being able to show off Los Angeles’ health to the world.

But the proposal touched a nerve in the city. Council members reported receiving hundreds of calls and letters. Councilman Joel Wachs, the leading opponent of the subsidy, shared his file Friday. It bulged with nearly 400 messages; all but two urged opposition.

Wachs, whose mayoral campaign is built largely around his status as a fierce defender of public money, passionately urged his colleagues to reject the proposal. The money would be better spent on any number of neglected city services, he said, adding that using it for the convention in the face of public opposition also raised fundamental questions about the government’s responsibility.

“The real issue here is: Whose government is it?” Wachs said. “It’s a very clear-cut choice.”

The choice, he added, was between average citizens who opposed the subsidy and rich and powerful leaders of the host committee, who convinced the Democratic Party to bring the convention here and promised to raise the money to pay for it. Those hosts include Eli Broad, David Geffen and Ron Burkle, three of Los Angeles’ richest men. Another host, lawyer Bill Wardlaw, is one of the city’s most well-connected political insiders.

A glimpse of the public’s outrage at the subsidy surfaced during this week’s mayoral debate, the second in a campaign that culminates next April.

At that event in Sherman Oaks, the more than 300 residents who attended overwhelmingly opposed the subsidy, which many saw as a bailout for the co-hosts. Even Steve Soboroff, an advisor to Riordan and the mayor’s choice to succeed him, urged rejection of the proposal.

On Friday, many long-serving council members said the subsidy debate was among the most bitter they had ever encountered. It bubbled over in a freewheeling council session that highlighted the strong views of both sides.

Goldberg called it the hardest vote of her political career, while Wachs excoriated supporters, saying they were defying the public’s will. Councilman Nate Holden accused his colleagues of hypocrisy--and he voted on the winning side.

“A bunch of turkeys,” he harrumphed. “I think you guys ought to just pack up and go home.”

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Times staff writer Peter Y. Hong contributed to this story.