Chairman Scott Maddox, an ambitious ex-mayor, knows his fate is tied to a state party facing irrelevancy.
By ADAM C. SMITH
Published June 23, 2003
From Immokalee to Panama City to Pinellas Park, Florida's rookie Democratic Party chairman works up beleaguered Florida Democrats like a charismatic preacher.
"No matter how many times they knock us down, we will get up," Scott Maddox bellows. "I am a Democrat, so I am a fighter!"
Pumping his fists, bobbing his head, and often railing against "milquetoast Democratic candidates afraid to take a stand," Maddox sounds more like a candidate giving a stump speech than a party administrator.
So one wonders: Is the ambitious former Tallahassee mayor on a mission for his own political future or that of his party?
The answer is both.
Maddox, 35, last year ran unsuccessfully for attorney general and acknowledges he's a likely future candidate for governor or other statewide office. Leading up to that, it sure doesn't hurt getting paid to travel the state, ingratiating himself with legions of Florida Democrats pining to see a pulse in their party.
"We haven't done too well with our party chairmen over the last few years. Scott Maddox is eager, he's dynamic," said Betty Morgenstein, whose husband Harvey runs the Greater Pinellas Democratic Club, which hosted Maddox Thursday night. "He's going all over the state, and he's pumping some life into the party, which is the best thing he can do."
While giving pep talks to party faithful across the state, Maddox is schmoozing and building a network of activists and donors that could be crucial to a statewide campaign. When the presidential election heats up, his national profile is sure to rise as the chief Democratic spokesman of America's biggest swing state.
With his elevated profile comes real risk, however. Another string of lopsided Democratic losses in 2004 could seriously taint him.
"Here's someone willing to put their political future on the line. That's more than most political leaders in this state have been willing to do," said admiring former party chairman Mitch Ceasar, who now leads the party in Broward County.
The good news for Maddox is the party has almost nowhere to go but up. November brought the Florida Democratic Party to the brink of irrelevancy, with no voice on the state Cabinet, an even smaller minority in the Legislature and congressional delegation, and an overwhelming loss in the governor's race.
Reeling party activists demanded the ouster of former chairman Bob Poe. In January, they elected Maddox to fill out the last two years of Poe's term.
Some elected Democrats had qualms about someone with personal political ambitions taking the job. He's in a position, for instance, to put obstacles in front of potential Democratic rivals for governor, such as U.S. Rep. Jim Davis of Tampa or state Sen. Rod Smith of Gainesville.
But most party leaders downplay that potential, and Maddox is receiving almost uniformly positive early reviews.
"I think he understood that the party didn't want to be a conduit to advance his personal agenda," Smith said.
Maddox inherited a four-person staff working out of a decrepit building on the outskirts of Tallahassee. The party had a handful of clunky, old computers with no server, about $200,000 of debt and, with virtually no influence in Tallahassee, little fundraising ability.
Since then, he has brought the party into the black and invested $100,000 in technology, including computers that can blast 10,000 e-mails at a time. He moved the party into an 8,000 square foot office in the shadow of the Capitol. He brought staffers from Tallahassee City Hall to the party.
He created an in-house production office that can produce ads for local candidates across the state. He hired the party's first policy adviser, with an eye toward offering proposals rather than just criticism of Republican policies. He's come down hard on squabbling local party committees, ousting leaders of Hernando County's Democratic Executive Committee.
In contrast to Poe, his predecessor, Maddox selectively chose his shots during this year's rocky legislative session. He was most vocal about subsequently restored cuts to a medically needy prescription drug assistance program and the governor's dismissal of an Equal Rights Amendment proposal. Maddox can spit sound bites like an Uzi spews bullets. But his relatively low profile during the session was noticed by some Democratic lawmakers, who often have to be more circumspect because they need to work with Republicans to get anything passed.
"As party chairman, you do have a role that can be a little harsher, a little more rough around the edges. Scott needs to step that up a little bit," said Senate Minority Leader Ron Klein of Boca Raton, who otherwise gives Maddox strong reviews.
Most visibly, Maddox pushed the party to become directly involved in some normally nonpartisan mayoral elections. The party served as a conduit for unlimited "soft money" contributions that helped elect Democrats in Tallahassee, Orlando and West Palm Beach. With no Republican running in Tampa, the party now can boast of winning four out of five major mayoral races (a Republican won in Jacksonville) this year.
Building a farm team is crucial, Maddox says of the party that long has relied on veteran marquee candidates such as Bob Graham and Lawton Chiles. Reaching out to local officials across Florida, Maddox is quietly crisscrossing the state and trying to start organizing now for 2004.
"The days are gone when we can show up in an African-American church on Sunday and expect votes on Tuesday," he said.
His own political options are varied. U.S. Rep. Allen Boyd has talked to Maddox about running for his seat in 2004 should Boyd pursue Graham's U.S. Senate seat. Maddox said he's not interested, though, and suggests statewide office in 2006 is likely.
His prospects, of course, are intertwined with those of his party. His report card comes in November 2004, and Maddox understands the implications.
"There's more risk than reward for me as a political candidate," he said of his party position last week, after a day of speeches in Miami, Orange County and Pinellas Park. "I don't know that I'll get full credit if the party turns around. If it doesn't, I know I'll get full blame."
- Adam C. Smith can be reached at 727 893-8241 or adam@sptimes.com
