Race for City Attorney Grabs the Spotlight

In a normal election year, the race for San Diego city attorney would get little notice amid the din created by campaigns for higher-profile posts. But this is not a normal year.

The San Diego electorate is dizzy after a series of civic setbacks involving legal advice and the law.

Three City Council members are under federal indictment for allegedly taking bribes from a strip club owner. The Chargers are suing the city for the right to flee to Los Angeles.

And last week the council surrendered its fight with the American Civil Liberties Union over the Boy Scouts’ lease of a city park. The cash-strapped city will pay $790,000 in legal fees to the ACLU and $160,000 in court costs.

The cumulative effect is that the race on the March 2 ballot to replace termed-out incumbent City Atty. Casey Gwinn as the legal advisor to the mayor, council and city bureaucracy has gotten louder and more pointed.

One reason for the increased decibel level is the candidacy of Michael Aguirre -- former federal prosecutor, Charger critic, Boy Scout court-case critic, city pension plan critic, civic crusader, serial litigator and perennial candidate.

After losing campaigns for Congress, district attorney and City Council, Aguirre may be the political beneficiary of a serendipitous meeting of man and moment. Reform is in the air in San Diego, and Aguirre promotes himself as all reform, all the time.

“After years of being on the sidelines throwing bombshells,” said political consultant Larry Remer, “this may be Mike Aguirre’s year to finally score.” (Remer has no candidate in the race.)

There is little disagreement among political observers that Aguirre would bring fundamental change in a way that has been virtually unknown in San Diego. There is considerable disagreement about whether that change would be good or bad.

In debates with his two opponents -- Executive Assistant City Atty. Leslie Devaney, 45, and Deputy City Atty. Deborah Berger, 55 -- Aquirre, 54, unveils a poster-size chart of his planned reorganization for the office’s 130 attorneys and 200 support personnel.

He has vowed to sue the City Council if he feels it is illegally meeting behind closed doors and to bring charges against council members suspected of ethical violations.

“That’s a disturbing idea: suing your own client,” Devaney said.

When asked at an Urban League forum why African American law firms don’t get more referral business from the city attorney’s office, Aguirre was unequivocal: “Racism -- it’s a disease.”

And he has repeatedly accused Gwinn and Gwinn’s subordinates of shoddy legal work, particularly in not squelching the Chargers contract, which obligates the city to pay millions for unsold tickets for a last-place team. Aguirre sued to block the contract in 1997 but was defeated by Gwinn.

Chargers owner “Alex Spanos and the Chargers have been protected by the city attorney,” Aguirre said.

Even by the standards of a city where voters are suspicious of change, the city attorney’s office has been a model of stability.

Gwinn was a top aide to John Witt, who was city attorney from 1969 to 1996. Witt was a top aide to the late Ed Butler and took over when Butler decided not to seek reelection in 1969.

At community forums, Aguirre generally strikes a low-key note in the beginning but by the end of the session is hurling accusations of incompetence and corruption.

“He can’t help himself,” said Tim McClain, editor of the San Diego Metropolitan magazine. “That’s what he’s all about. His passion continues to burn.”

Devaney’s theme is “professionalism, not politics,” and she portrays Aguirre as someone who wants to use the office to usurp the decision-making role of the City Council, wielding legal advice as a cudgel.

“It’s dangerous,” Devaney said, “and once we go back to that road, we’ll never get it back.”

The more acerbic Berger is blunt in her assessment of her colleagues’ work, such as that of an attorney who handled a big-bucks case in which a landowner successfully sued the city. The theme of the city attorney’s case, she said, “was that the plaintiff was a sleaze-bucket, but the attorney assigned to the case didn’t even cross-examine him.”

Berger, whose late father was a Navy pilot, has vowed to ask a retired Navy admiral to reorganize the office but she finds Aguirre’s plan overzealous.

“We don’t need to just nuke it,” Berger said of the office, “we need to fix it.”

By San Diego tradition, Devaney should be the front-runner. She is endorsed by Casey Gwinn, John Witt and a long list of civic notables.

Earnest and knowledgeable, she praises what the office has done in consumer and environmental protection and promises fewer closed-door council meetings.

She often speaks of her two basketball-playing daughters and refers to the city attorney’s office in maternal terms.

“I want to lead this office because it’s like my baby. I’ve been there so long,” Devaney told one group. “ ... I don’t want to give my baby to somebody else.”

Talk like that drives Aguirre to distraction.

“The office is not Leslie’s baby,” he said. “It’s the people’s baby.”