2 Ways Voters May See Race

A year from now, Californians will go to the polls to make a choice. Will voters be casting judgment on the performance of Gov. Gray Davis? Or will they be voting up or down on his Republican opponent?

The answer could very well decide whether Democrat Davis wins a second term in November 2002 or cedes office to whichever of his three rivals emerges from the GOP’s March primary.

Davis enters the reelection contest on shaky ground. His popularity is sagging, his leadership is under widespread attack and his future is rutted with chuckholes, the biggest being the state’s huge budget deficit.

But he also enjoys great advantages as governor. The state continues to lean Democratic, his fund-raising is unparalleled and he can generate headlines virtually on command.

Moreover, his eventual Republican foe--largely unblemished at the moment--will not always appear so pristine.

“Someone’s going to emerge from the primary, and then there will be a chance to offer a contrast,” said Paul Maslin, the governor’s pollster.

That suggests one thing: the kind of rough campaign that often leaves voters choosing not the candidate who appeals most, but the one who offends least.

Or, if the governor’s team has its way: the Davis they know against the devil they don’t.

With Richard Riordan’s splashy entry last week, the gubernatorial field appears set. For the next few months, the governor’s race will focus on the Republican side, as businessman Bill Simon Jr. and California Secretary of State Bill Jones try to overcome the former Los Angeles mayor’s edge in money, endorsements and name recognition.

Unlike his party opponents, Riordan barely mentioned his Republican affiliation during last week’s announcement tour. At times it almost sounded as if he were running for an imaginary position, that of nonpartisan mayor of California. Over and over he described himself as a sidewalk-level “problem solver” who shuns political labels.

Voters “don’t want a partisan or an ideologue,” Riordan said in the Silicon Valley. “They want someone out there making the streets safer, education better, cheaper energy, bringing jobs into our state,” he added in Sacramento.

The strategy is risky, presuming that Riordan can look past the March primary and begin running against Davis right away.

“I think that’s a mistake,” Jones chided. “You can’t get to home plate without going around the bases, and I think he’s ignoring first base.”

But Riordan strategists assume--and many agree--that California Republicans are so hungry to win back the governor’s office that they will condone a candidate reaching past their party, the way many GOP faithful did when George W. Bush ran for president.

“Republicans have learned that to run moderate and govern conservative is a winning formula,” said UC Berkeley political analyst Bruce Cain.

The best hope for Jones and Simon may be a stumble by Riordan, a loose cannon of a candidate. Boosters say his defiantly unscripted personality and unpolished image were a good part of his appeal as Los Angeles mayor. But those same unwieldy qualities make his every public appearance an adventure--and keep those same boosters awake nights.

Yet unless the momentum is challenged, a reelection campaign’s natural focus is on the incumbent’s performance. For now, Davis has sought to cocoon himself away from the campaign, employing the Sacramento version of a Rose Garden strategy. But he is hardly dormant.

He continues to raise money at a $1-million-a-month clip, padding the $31-million bank account he reported at the end of September. He continues to roll out major labor and law enforcement endorsements, the biggest last week from the California Police Chiefs Assn. And he is still leaving the political jousting to his underlings.

Though his campaign spokesman issued a scathing attack on Riordan the day the Republican announced--definitely getting the former mayor’s attention--Davis’ only public response was a bland statement that anyone is entitled to run.

The governor, who has spent his adult life in politics, was elected during the good times of 1998 promising, essentially, to improve the state’s public schools and otherwise do no harm. For the first two quiescent years of his term Davis pursued that pledge.

But the electricity crisis and Sept. 11 terrorist attacks called for a more activist approach. And in both cases, Davis has been less sure-footed.

He was slow to respond to the energy crunch after it surfaced last year, and his public approval fell dramatically through the spring, slipping a bit each time the lights went out. His standing has bounced back since then, but not nearly as much as that of other elected officials.

Significantly, Davis appears to be getting little credit for a blackout-free summer, perhaps because its conclusion passed unheralded in the midst of terrorist jitters. At the same time, the $43 billion in long-term power contracts signed near the height of the crisis have become highly controversial.

His record on fighting terrorism has been equally mixed.

Although the governor seized on September’s events to raise his profile--posing with bottles of Cipro, touring water treatment plants, riding a Coast Guard cutter across San Francisco Bay--he also contributed to the state of fright.

As other officials implored travelers to get back on commercial planes, Davis sent the opposite message by making plans to lease a private jet. More recently, his public warning of an unsubstantiated threat to the state’s bridges gave opponents a chance to attack his credibility and renew charges that he is driven more by politics than principle.

Looking ahead, the biggest challenge the governor faces will almost certainly be the slumping economy and its impact on the state budget.

Aides argue that the predicted multibillion-dollar shortfall would have been worse had Davis not prudently set aside reserve funds and approved one-time expenditures, rather than vast new programs, back when the state was flush.

The timing of the budget mess, however, is indisputably bad, with the governor facing tough decisions on taxes and spending cuts smack in the middle of a campaign.

That, of course, will present Davis an opportunity.

“Part of leadership is saying no,” said pollster Maslin, who predicted that “voters will respect the governor doing what is necessary to keep the budget under control.”

Or so Davis hopes. For now, his opponents have the luxury of standing back and criticizing, trying to make the governor’s race a pass/fail test of his leadership.

Davis’ challenge will be shifting the burden back to the Republican nominee. His task is much like that faced by the state’s last two-term governor, Pete Wilson, who started his 1994 reelection campaign in far worse political straits than Davis.

Refusing to allow the race to be a referendum on his deficit-scarred first term, Wilson hammered relentlessly on the personality and positions of his Democratic opponent, state Treasurer Kathleen Brown. He won, in a rout.

Davis, too, will need to point out his accomplishments and make the election a test of his opponent’s performance and policies.

“They can attack all they want,” Maslin said. “Ultimately, it comes down to: ‘Why should I trust you?’ ”