The direct democracy of a recall election poses potential problems that could rival the shortcomings of California's beleaguered governor.
Published July 25, 2003
Accept as fact all the accusations against California Gov. Gray Davis - that he is arrogant, fiscally reckless, has raised taxes and reneged on campaign promises. The recall election that now stands before voters in that state still has less to do with his performance than with the $1.7-million that U.S. Rep. Darrell Issa put up to buy the petitions.
Issa, a man with an abundance of wealth and ego, wants Davis' job, and plans to put his own name on the recall ballot Oct. 7. For his down payment, taxpayers will now invest $35-million on an election to see whether he gets the job.
In political theory, this exercise in petitioning government is known as direct democracy. It is a process well-known to Californians, who have put 118 issues on the ballot over the past quarter-century through petitions. But recall is something entirely different. In this case, what is happening is best described as subverting democracy.
Davis, for better or worse, was re-elected eight months ago. More than 7-million voters went to the polls then, after an extensive debate and lengthy campaign, and chose him narrowly over businessman Bill Simon. What has happened since then is that the state's budget has exploded, reaching a staggering $38-billion deficit, and some of his political opponents have seized an opportunity. A recall effort that was begun by a self-described "wacko" was then fortified by Issa's fortune and a total of $3.4-million in contributions. The money hired the companies that delivered the signatures.
"This is a case where Republicans in California clearly understood that at this point they are not politically competitive," said Garry South, who was Davis' chief political strategist. "They now smell blood - right-wing radio, right-wing groups, the whole right-wing nut axis that has been shut out of California politics for some time now."
Leaving aside the partisan politics involved, the recall process invites an absurd result. On the same Oct. 7 ballot in which voters will be asked whether they want to get rid of Davis, they also may be treated to a list of people who want to be governor. All a prospective candidate needs is 65 signatures and $3,500, and no one is sure how many names may end up on the ballot. What elections officials do know is this: If Davis is recalled, the candidate with the most votes will become governor, no matter how small the number or percentage.
In other words, recall gives political extremists of every stripe their best chance at becoming governor of the nation's most populous state.
One need be no fan of Gray Davis to despair of the implications here. California's budgetary crisis is complicated by previous voter initiatives that have limited the way lawmakers can raise and spend money, and by term limits that have assured lawmakers will be less experienced in dealing with economic downturns. That's where direct democracy is leading entirely too many states, including Florida, which has conferred constitutional stature upon fishing nets, high-speed trains and pregnant pigs. Florida has no provision for recall in its current Constitution, though the California experience will no doubt inspire someone to petition for the right.
Close elections and voter anger are a part of America's durable democracy, a point to which President Bush can readily attest. That's part of why elections are so frequent, and terms of office so brief. Recall, absent malfeasance and bought by self-interest, is no companion to that democracy. It is its foe.
