Universe Hates a Vacuum, and So Does L.A.

Black leaders in South-Central Los Angeles courting white homeowner and business leaders from the harbor area? What brings these unusual partners together?

Both groups, it seems, have it in for Mayor James K. Hahn.

In South-Central, Hahn’s decision not to support Bernard C. Parks for a second term as police chief is seen as a slap in the face of a loyal constituency. Harbor residents fume that little is being done to address concerns over the environmental impact of port operations.

That these unusual political alliances are forming suggests one inescapable conclusion: There is a vacuum of power in Los Angeles.

For decades, L.A. politics was a relatively quiet affair, run from behind the scenes by powerful downtown Anglo business interests.

As political scientist Raphael J. Sonenshein has argued, it wasn’t until Tom Bradley was elected mayor in 1973 that a fundamental shift occurred in L.A. politics. The new order was an alliance of Westside Jews and South-Central blacks behind a liberal philosophy and their shared history of exclusion from power.

Since the demise of the 20-year Bradley coalition, however, efforts to form a new, stable ruling coalition in Los Angeles have failed spectacularly.

In 1993, Richard Riordan was elected mayor by a coalition of San Fernando Valley conservatives and Latinos. Absent a viable challenger, Riordan repeated the feat in 1997.

But although he assembled a successful electoral coalition, Riordan never created a stable governing coalition.

For the most part, neither the Valley nor Latinos were central players in Riordan’s administration. By the end of his tenure, neither was particularly enamored of Riordan.

Last summer’s Hahn versus Antonio Villaraigosa mayoral contest produced another political odd couple: West Valley conservatives aligned with South-Central blacks to elect Hahn. Yet it didn’t take long for this coalition to fall apart. The issue of police reform--in particular Parks--exposed the inherent weakness of the partnership. Some observers think the mayor wants to expand his political base by appointing a Latino police chief.

Secession movements are another manifestation of the lack of consensus in L.A. politics, and they underscore the heightened potential for bizarre coalitions. Both Valley and harbor secessionists have begun reaching out to black leaders in hopes of creating pro-secession alliances. The implicit pitch: Just think how much more influence you’d have in a smaller city, where you wouldn’t have to deal with us.

What do these strange alliances say about politics in Los Angeles? They might suggest that multiethnic democracy is alive and well; because no one interest can dominate the agenda, groups must build cross-community bridges if they want to get things done. Or they might mean that Los Angeles has become something of a political Tower of Babel--a chaotic and destructive place pitting disparate communities against one another for services and influence.

It is this latter interpretation that secessionists seek to exploit. At base, secession is an argument to narrow the diversity of interests in the political arena. It presupposes that communities will be better able to control their destiny with fewer competing interests.

The implications of secession go beyond the usual discussion of fiscal or service-related matters. If and when a measure is placed on the ballot, the vote will be a referendum on whether and how well democracy can function in an arena of diversity.

*

Tom Hogen-Esch teaches political science at Cal State Northridge.