Ambition Made Moreno Odd Man Out

Santa Ana City Councilman Ted Moreno went down fighting, as you’d expect of this cocky and bullheaded politician. He also went down virtually alone, with no organized support from the community he claimed to champion during his two controversial terms.

Moreno’s conviction on corruption charges this week derails the career of an ambitious man who pushed hard--way too hard--for more Latino representation in Santa Ana.

Yet the news of his demise caused scarcely a ripple in Latino power circles. Some community leaders expressed regret to reporters about the outcome of his criminal trial for receiving illegal campaign contributions. But there was no communal outcry or anguish over the fall of this temperamental political upstart, caught on tape taking envelopes stuffed with cash.

In private, people barely mentioned it.

Their silence was not a sign of indifference toward the father of four who now faces a possible nine years in prison on 25 counts of extortion, money laundering and mail fraud. Instead, it was a sign of just how far Latinos have come in Orange County politics since Moreno first took office in 1992.

Consider: Moreno--who turns 33 this month--was a veteran among the county’s leading Latino officeholders. Before being stripped of his office this week, he had held his seat for eight years.

That’s longer than Loretta Sanchez, the congresswoman who represents his city. Longer than Lou Correa, the state assemblyman from his district. Longer than Nativo Lopez, the school board member who survived his own political scandal involving trumped-up allegations of voter fraud, for which he was never charged.

Moreno was 25 when he blew into City Hall, the youngest person ever elected to the Santa Ana City Council. He had an ego much larger than his resume, and much more moxie than political skill. His dream--or scheme, as critics prefer--was to recruit more young Latinos to run for local office, then move higher.

In his maverick way, Moreno nurtured grass-roots participation by engineering all-Latino slates to break the monopoly of power in Santa Ana. At one time, he was the only politician in town pushing for projects in immigrant neighborhoods otherwise ignored by City Hall. People still appreciate him for that.

More Latino Officials

But now, other Latino leaders with more clout--and more sense--are doing the work with better results.

This year, for the first time since he became a councilman, Moreno will not have a hand in local elections. This time, young candidates groomed by Sanchez and others could win first terms on the City Council and school board in his city. And several Latino incumbents are seeking reelection.

“It’s not the club of one anymore,” said Harry Pachon, president of the Tomas Rivera Policy Institute, a Claremont think tank. “There’s a diversity and pluralism of Latino elected officials at all levels of government [in California]. And what that means, is that the whole community’s weight does not rest on one person’s shoulders.”

Statewide, the number of Latino officeholders has grown in the past eight years from 682 to 756, according to the National Assn. of Latino Elected and Appointed Officials, an L.A-based agency devoted to encouraging Latino political participation. That’s almost an 11% increase in Latino representation since Moreno was first elected.

The ‘90s newcomers include Sanchez (D-Garden Grove), who became the symbol of Latino empowerment by unseating Bob Dornan in 1996. By then, Moreno was already the target of an FBI undercover investigation for his votes-for-cash shenanigans.

They also include Lt. Gov. Cruz Bustamante, who in 1998 became the first Latino elected to statewide office in more than 120 years. By then, Moreno had been indicted by a federal grand jury.

While Latinos were celebrating their political triumphs under a national spotlight, Moreno was skulking around in the shadows, still bent on building his own political fiefdom by hook or by crook. That was the other problem with Ted Moreno. He was no team player. He wanted to be king of the hill so badly, he didn’t pay heed when other politicians started passing him up on their way to the top.

If only Moreno had played it straight, he and his recruits could have been part of the Latino empowerment movement now gaining momentum. Instead, he’ll probably go to prison while others assume the power he so foolishly pursued.

Some say Moreno may have been forced to play dirty because the odds were stacked against him in Santa Ana. The more he challenged the power structure, the more they marginalized him. His council colleagues, don’t forget, once stripped him of his power to appoint commissioners because he had the nerve to run challengers against them. They also stalled his projects as political payback, the community be damned.

Anybody who takes on Santa Ana’s political machine, which is mostly white, has been tempted to take the gloves off at one time or another.

Prosecutors called it Moreno’s “plot to take control of the City Council.” In Santa Ana, that’s no crime. That would be a public service, if a new majority were more responsive to community needs.

Contrary to the state trend, the number of Latino officeholders is actually down in Orange County. In January of this year, there were 26 local Latino elected officials, down from 27 eight years ago, according to NALEO.

Ironically, Moreno is partly responsible for the decline. He brought promising people down with him, including former Councilman Tony Espinoza, who left office in 1998 under the cloud of a conspiracy indictment and later pleaded guilty to a lesser charge of lying to investigators.

In November, Orange County’s Latino community will have a fresh chance to recoup lost ground.

As of Tuesday’s verdict against Moreno, however, there was one Latino less in local politics.

Agustin Gurza’s column appears Tuesday and Saturday. Readers can reach Gurza at (714) 966-7712 or agustin.gurza@latimes.com.