Once More Unto the Breach for L.A. Veteran of Myriad Crises

Like so many other Americans, the small group of Los Angeles’ legal and political luminaries who gathered at the stately home overlooking Griffith Park rolled with the punches Tuesday night, flinching as the networks first awarded Florida to Al Gore, then took it away, then wallowed in indecision.

Television sets were scattered throughout the Spanish-style Los Feliz house, but one by one, people pulled their gazes from the screens and edged out of the knots of anxious viewers to exchange a few quiet words with the party’s most distinguished guest, Warren M. Christopher, former secretary of State.

Quietly amiable--dapper as always in his conservative suit, silk tie and pocket square--Christopher sipped a small glass of chardonnay as he shared political insights on a campaign that had left another of his candidates within reach of the White House.

After an hour or two, Christopher and his wife slipped away for their home, departing so inconspicuously that many of the guests did not realize they were gone. A short time later, however, just as Christopher was preparing to go to bed, the phone rang, and he was plucked back into the fray again. By dawn, he was on his way to Nashville; by midafternoon, he was in Florida.

It was no surprise that, in that moment of deepest and most uncertain crisis, Gore turned to Christopher--whose storied discretion and almost preternatural diplomatic skills have earned him the nickname “the cardinal.”

Lacking a comparable “elder statesman” in his personal circle, Texas Gov. George W. Bush responded to the Florida crisis by reaching back to tap one of his father’s intimate advisors, another former secretary of State, James A. Baker III.

In one fashion or another, Christopher has played a central role in the political lives of Bill Clinton and Gore for more than eight years. Christopher led the search committee that recommended Gore to then-candidate Clinton in 1992, and this year directed the group that suggested Sen. Joseph I. Lieberman to Gore. In between, he served as secretary of State in Clinton’s first term, a capstone to a storied career that has seen Christopher move back and forth from Southern California to Washington over three decades, leaving his mark on both places.

But none of his missions has riveted the public--or caused it to hold its collective breath--as much as the one on which Gore dispatched Christopher this week.

Once in Florida, Christopher took charge of a group of lawyers drawn from around the country. Their job: to supervise the recount for the Democrats while investigating potential legal challenges to the results in a state whose governor, Jeb Bush, happens to be the younger brother of the Republican candidate.

Thursday morning, Christopher announced his team’s conclusion.

“We’ve come to believe that there are serious and substantial irregularities resulting from the ballot used only in one county,” he said, his voice flat and matter-of-fact. “That ballot was confusing and illegal.”

A Curiously Modest Figure

For a man whose careers in law and politics have often thrust him to the center of events, Christopher cuts a curiously modest figure. Slight and wizened, almost elfin, he does not possess a natural television presence. Christopher, whose friends call him Chris, speaks in a soft, slightly high-pitched voice and invariably dresses with impeccable precision. He possesses a twinkly, impish sense of humor that he shares in private company but rations in public.

His reticence--even in private conversation--is legendary. In meetings with reporters and others he listens, offers selective insights and carefully guards anything that could be regarded as a confidence. Not only will Christopher refuse to discuss private meetings, he also habitually declines to confirm that they took place--a quality politicians find invaluable. Associates who have known him for years search their memories in vain when asked to recall a strong display of emotion.

Coolly rational as a political advisor, he is strikingly thoughtful on personal matters. A few years ago, longtime friend and associate Mickey Kantor, the Clinton administration’s former trade negotiator, mentioned to Christopher that he and his wife were considering a move back to California. Three days later, a packet of real estate listings arrived in the Kantors’ mail.

Christopher’s career in politics and public service stretches back decades. It crosses the lives of such historic figures as California Gov. Pat Brown, whom Christopher advised, and U.S. Supreme Court Justice William O. Douglas, for whom Christopher clerked. It includes service in the administration of every Democratic president since John F. Kennedy.

But it was Kantor who made the introduction that set the scene for this week’s emergency mission. An old friend of Christopher, Kantor was an early supporter of the candidacy of then-Arkansas Gov. Clinton, and he took it on himself to bring Clinton and Christopher together.

“It just seemed to me a perfect match,” Kantor said this week. “They got along famously.”

In fact, they struck up such a bond that Clinton turned to Christopher for advice on one of the most important decisions of his political life, the selection of his vice presidential running mate. According to people close to Christopher, he approached that task with typical precision: He methodically analyzed Clinton’s options, arrayed them for the nominee and briefed him on the implications of each.

Clinton picked Gore, by most accounts an unconventional choice who defied the usual wisdom that a candidate should reach outside his region, select from a big state and secure some wayward part of the electorate. Instead, Clinton chose a fellow Southerner from a relatively small state whose politics were not much different from his own.

That choice--and Christopher’s instrumental role in making it--had profound implications for all those involved. It helped Clinton win the presidency, it resulted in Christopher’s appointment as the new president’s secretary of State, and it brought together the Los Angeles lawyer and Gore.

Not all of those developments were immediately successful. The Clinton administration initially struggled in its foreign policy, an area that it considered subordinate to the economy and domestic policy.

One early European mission, for instance, met with embarrassing resistance, as Christopher failed to win support for an administration effort to support Bosnia in its struggle against Serbian forces.

More personally, some of the same qualities that have long endeared him to Los Angeles insiders did not wear as well in Washington. Christopher’s reserve and discretion, so much a part of his effectiveness as a lawyer and advisor, played poorly on the Washington talk show circuit.

Still, even his critics and those of the administration credited Christopher’s intelligence and decency, rare tributes on both sides of Washington’s deep political divide.

After four years in which Christopher logged more than 780,000 air miles on behalf of President Clinton, he opted in 1997 to return home. As he prepared to leave, Christopher slipped on the ice in his garage and broke his wrist.

At Center Stage One More Time

Although Christopher was gone from Washington, he did not stray far from the administration. He watched the campaign unfold from a respectful distance, but once Gore secured the nomination, the vice president moved quickly to bring Christopher back to center stage. Gore, having been chosen by Christopher eight years earlier, now asked the former diplomat to perform the same task he had performed for Clinton, supervising the search for a vice president.

Again, Christopher returned with a recommendation that defied much of the conventional wisdom. Sen. John Kerry of Massachusetts headed the short lists of many insiders. U.S. Rep. Dick Gephardt of Missouri was the favorite of others. New Hampshire Gov. Jeanne Shaheen offered an appealing chance to galvanize women.

This time, Christopher approached the task somewhat differently from in 1992, people close to him say. In working with Clinton, Christopher had relied on his old legal skills--listing options, explaining his view of the ramifications of each possible choice.

Advising Gore, however, Christopher was more forceful, more of an advocate. According to sources familiar with those deliberations, Christopher felt strongly about Lieberman’s credentials and argued persuasively for them.

Lieberman was an early critic of President Clinton’s private conduct, allowing the Democratic ticket to put distance between itself and the president’s perceived liabilities. Lieberman is more conservative than Gore, strengthening the ticket’s appeal to the center. And he is the first Jew ever to appear on a national party’s presidential ticket, draping the campaign with a sense of history.

Prominent Democrats hailed the choice, and Lieberman appeared to live up to Christopher’s expectations. The Connecticut senator delivered a major bounce for Gore, gave a well-received convention speech and performed well during the vice presidential debate. And, in retrospect perhaps most important, he gave Gore a significant boost in Florida, where the election now hangs on a few hundred votes.

Although Christopher’s work on the national stage is his best known, his most profound impact may have been on Los Angeles, the city where he has practiced law with the prestigious firm of O’Melveny & Myers for 50 years.

After the Watts riots of 1965, Christopher helped John McCone, the former director of the CIA, to write the report of the so-called McCone Commission. It made sweeping recommendations for change, from improving police practices to addressing poverty and racial discrimination. But the commission report mostly gathered dust, a disappointing fate that the panel’s critics blamed on its overreaching ambition and its failure to speak in clear, forceful language about local solutions to the problems that gave rise to those riots.

When the city erupted in flames again--in 1992 after the not-guilty verdicts in the Rodney G. King beating case--city leaders once more reached to a blue-ribbon commission and once more to Christopher. This time, he seemed determined not to repeat the mistakes that had undermined McCone’s work.

The Report of the Independent Commission on the Los Angeles Police Department was a landmark document, not only in L.A. history but also in the annals of police reform. It elevated community policing, championed civilian oversight of police and, of immense local significance, set in motion the ouster of Police Chief Daryl F. Gates.

“This is a blunt report,” the commission said at the outset of its findings. And indeed it was, though it also bore the marks of Christopher’s diplomacy. Christopher took over a commission, some of whose members were nominated by Mayor Tom Bradley and some of whom came from Gates--two implacable foes. And yet the commission’s findings were unanimous, even when it came to the matter of Gates himself.

There, Christopher’s report tackled the topic with language that was unambiguous and yet unfailingly careful--marks of its author: “Chief Gates has served the LAPD and the city 42 years, the past 13 years as chief of police. He has achieved a noteworthy record of public service in a stressful and demanding profession. For the reasons set forth in support of the recommendation that the chief of police be limited to two five-year terms, the commission believes that commencement of a transition in that office is now appropriate.”

Gates balked and fumed. But at 12:01 a.m. on June 28, 1992--just under a year after the Christopher Commission released its report--he retired as police chief. To this day, the Christopher Commission report remains the clearest, most authoritative analysis ever conducted of the LAPD--and its principal author is a reviled figure in some police circles.

‘Two Parts Patriot, One Part Partisan’

The Christopher Commission cemented its chairman’s reputation for calm in the face of warring parties--as well as his image as a centrist civic player, all qualities that Gore and his team now rely on. Indeed, those close to him argue that although Christopher’s loyalty to the Democratic ticket is unassailable, his selection for this task reflects his reputation for fairness as much as his connection to Gore. Attempting to balance those priorities Thursday, Christopher remarked that he would hear out his counterparts from the Bush campaign but that no argument would dissuade him from fighting to secure what he regards as an honest election in Florida.

“In a moment like this, you need someone at the helm who’s two parts patriot and one part partisan,” one longtime Christopher associate said Thursday. “Warren Christopher fits that bill precisely.”

Kantor agreed. “When I have a problem, political or otherwise, I always give him a call,” he said.

And another Los Angeles political veteran--Mark D. Fabiani, now the Gore campaign spokesman and a political infighter who is as fierce as Christopher is reserved--said the vice president’s team, forced to fight for its life on the shifting ground of Florida, was “fortunate to have a man of Mr. Christopher’s impeccable credentials.”