Recall Redux

Around the country, many folks are shaking their heads, or laughing, or crying, about the California recall election. They are wondering: How did a state with an overwhelming Democratic population elect a Republican -- a sexual predator who says he admires Adolph Hitler -- to the governor's seat in Sacramento?

To some, the election outcome justifies the warnings by some Founding Fathers (some of whom were sexual predators themselves) that there's such a thing as too much direct democracy -- especially when it crosses the line into mob rule, the so-called "tyranny of the majority." But to others, the California recall was the epitome of its direct opposite -- the domination of politics by big money.

Whatever the merits of these fancy political science theories, the basic reality is this: Put a charismatic celebrity next to a dull technocrat and you have the formula for Arnold Schwarzenegger beating Gray Davis to become the governor of the nation's largest state and the world's sixth largest economy. This was not an ideological election about issues. It was a referendum on Davis. And it was yet another example of the increasing overlap between politics and show biz.

At the same time, it is important not to overstate the exceptional character of this election, as if California were some kind of bizarre political anomaly. After all, are the election and qualifications of Arnold Schwarzenegger so much more outlandish than those of George W. Bush, a man whose entire life in college, business, and politics was made possible by his family's money and connections, and whose drunk driving, drug use, and military (i.e. AWOL) experiences were no less character-revealing than Arnold's own behavior? So before labeling California voters as particularly quirky, recall that in 2000, while the rest of the nation gave Bush 48.5 percent of the popular vote, only 41.7 percent of Californians voted for our current president.

Why Gray Davis Was So Unpopular

Gray Davis was incredibly unpopular, even among those who agreed with his policy agenda. He was actually a reasonably liberal governor in terms of the legislation he signed during his five years in office regarding environment and parks, labor, health insurance (extending benefits to an additional one million people), immigrant rights, gay rights, pro-choice, and education. But, as The American Prospect's Harold Meyerson has written, Davis was really implementing Senate President John Burton's liberal agenda. And he did so without enthusiasm and often only after incredible lobbying efforts by -- and campaign contributions from -- liberal constituency groups.

Davis was a terrible salesman for the Democratic agenda. After three decades of climbing the political ladder from chief-of-staff to Gov. Jerry Brown, to state assemblyman, to state controller, then lieutenant governor, finally governor in 1998 (when he orchestrated a come-from-behind victory in the Democratic primary), Davis had become a brilliant fundraiser and political strategist, but, ironically, a terrible politician. Elected governor in 1998, he narrowly won last November's re-election race (47 percent-42 percent) against Republican businessman and political neophyte Bill Simon, who ran the most inept campaign in recent memory. Davis' slim margin last November, and his low favorability ratings, made it clear to Republicans that he was vulnerable to a potential recall.

Davis was stiff and aloof. Even his next-door neighbors disliked him, as the media recently reported. He seemed to have no strong beliefs or passions. He was a technocrat with no charisma. He made Al Gore look exciting. Davis lacked the "common touch," not only toward ordinary voters, but also toward Democratic legislators and liberal activists, who opposed the recall on principle, and because they feared a GOP victory, not because of any love (or even like) for Davis. The California media disliked Davis (mostly personally, not ideologically) and cut him no slack. Being an unlikable person doesn't always matter in politics. There are plenty of dull and even nasty people in high political office who are able to serve out their terms. But Davis' personality played a big role in the recall. Among fellow Democrats, reporters, and liberal/progressive activists, Davis had no reservoir of good feelings, no personal capital. Fellow California Democrats were slow to come to his aid at various points during his governorship -- such as the 2001 energy crisis -- when he could have used help. They joined forces to oppose the recall, but did so without enthusiasm. Davis personified some of the worst aspects of American political culture. He always seemed to care more about raising money than about governing. He was constantly on the make for money and on the lookout for rich people he could cultivate as potential donors. He raised $35 million for his 1998 governor's race, $70 million during his first term, and $15 million for his recall campaign.