Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, December 27, 1993 TAG: 9312270098
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: A1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: WARREN FISKE STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: RICHMOND LENGTH: Long
\ If Doug Wilder hadn't been so confrontational, he might be spending his final weeks as governor enjoying the praise Virginians traditionally reserve for fiscal conservatives instead of the barbs that go with being the most unpopular chief executive in memory.
But if Doug Wilder hadn't been so confrontational, he never would have been governor.
Such is the mystique of the nation's first elected black governor as his roller-coaster, four-year term winds down. Wilder rode into office on a tide of good will that quickly receded as he feuded with fellow Democrats. He won national acclaim as a tight-fisted budget manager, then sank to historic lows in popularity when, just months after his election, he began running for president.
Wilder is expected to take Virginia on a new ride when he leaves office Jan. 15. He plans to challenge his arch-rival - U.S. Sen. Charles Robb - in a Democratic primary in June.
In genteel Virginia, where politicians traditionally settle disputes behind closed doors, Wilder ushered in a new era of confrontation and drama. He forced voters and state legislators to choose sides and struck out against those who crossed him.
"He was elected with a broad-based coalition and a feeling of good will and, within six months, all of that was shattered because of his petty vindictiveness," said state Sen. Joseph V. Gartlan Jr., D-Fairfax, a 21-year veteran of the legislature. "`He is without question the most divisive governor I have served under. I don't know of anyone who split the state so badly."
Again and again during his term, Wilder, 62, demonstrated that beneath his charming facade is a complex, independent and ambitious man with the instincts of a street fighter.
Wilder grew up in segregated Richmond and clawed to the top of Virginia politics by steamrolling opponents who said he could not become governor because of his race. But the same smash-mouth style that helped his rise to power may have failed him in office.
"People didn't like him personally and Wilder couldn't change his personality," said Larry J. Sabato, a University of Virginia political scientist. "They perceive Wilder is at core a politician and he's out to get people. Most people in politics are like that, but they do a better job of hiding it."
Wilder's penchant for feuding with fellow Democrats all but destroyed his relationship with General Assembly leaders and doomed many of his legislative efforts. He accused former Gov. Gerald Baliles of leaving the state's finances in a "mess," tried to limit the powers of former Attorney General Mary Sue Terry and fired Senate Majority Leader Hunter Andrews, D-Hampton, from a key state board.
Those battles were small compared to Wilder's war with Robb. Their 10-year feud exploded in 1991, when Robb staffers gave reporters the transcript of an illegally taped phone conversation between Robb and a Chesapeake businessman. For the rest of his administration, Wilder often seemed consumed with striking back at Robb.
The fighting and his ineffective run for the presidency threaten to overshadow Wilder's most significant accomplishment: During his four years, Virginia and Massachusetts were the only states to weather the national recession without raising taxes.
Wilder overcame $2.2 billion in revenue shortages by slashing spending and juggling the books. The Old Dominion remained one of only five states with a AAA credit rating, the best possible. In 1992 and '93, Virginia was recognized as the best-managed state in the nation by Financial World Magazine.
The budget mastery was especially important to Wilder. He came to office in 1990 determined to break stereotypes that blacks were "ultra-liberal" spenders and bad managers.
Despite Republican warnings in 1989 that "you can't trust Doug Wilder," Virginia remained in good fiscal health. There were no major scandals in the administration.
\ Government that `looks like Virginia'
Wilder generally is credited with hiring competent advisers and opening state government to hundreds of blacks whom he appointed to administrative posts, boards and commissions.
"For the first time, Virginia government started to look like Virginia," said Mame Reiley, an adviser in Wilder's presidential run.
To blacks, Wilder is proof that hard work and determination can overcome racial barriers. His election victory, based on pledges to be fiscally conservative but socially progressive, is a model for other aspiring black politicians.
Yet, Wilder's administration also has been criticized by black academics for failing to aggressively attack poverty. "There was no advantage to his being black," said Ronald Walters, a Howard University political scientist. "His legacy in Virginia is government as usual."
Wilder, who declined to be interviewed for this story, has said he would have offered bold initiatives had he not governed in a recession. He has said he followed a clear mandate from Virginians not to raise taxes.
Despite his inaugural claim that "discrimination can be eliminated," Wilder remained silent through much of a court battle over whether women should be admitted into the state-supported Virginia Military Institute.
This fall, many black leaders were disappointed by Wilder when he pushed a plan to keep women out of VMI by setting up a "leadership training" program for coeds at Mary Baldwin College in Staunton.
Many suggest Wilder placed a higher priority on political expediency than substantive accomplishment. From the moment of his historic election, Wilder seemed to eye higher office. For the first half of his administration, he focused on the presidency; during the second half, he looked to the Senate.
The constant maneuvering made almost all of his motives suspect - even for budget cutting. "My assessment is that he did a good job on the budget so he could run for president," said Del. Richard Cranwell, D-Vinton, chairman of the House Finance Committee.
"Everything that Doug Wilder did focused on politics," said a former member of his administration, who asked not to be identified for fear of retribution by Wilder. "You can make an argument that every action he took was designed to promote his own personal advancement."
His responsibility for it is open to debate, but there's no question that Virginia's Democratic Party declined under Wilder. During his administration, Democrats lost 16 seats in the General Assembly and fell from dominance in the House and Senate to scant majorities in both chambers.
Moreover, Republicans were able to capture the governorship this fall for the first time in 16 years, in part by making Wilder an issue. Terry, the Democratic candidate, said voter dissatisfaction with Wilder contributed to her overwhelming defeat.
Wilder "left the party in shambles," said Thomas R. Morris, a political scientist who is president of Emory & Henry University. "He bequeathed a political environment that made it very difficult for another Democrat to win."
Wilder has said it is unfair to blame him for others' losses. He has blamed suburban growth and Terry's shortcomings as a candidate for Republican gains. He has also criticized Terry for failing to embrace his record.
His accomplishments "were lying there, like gold nuggets waiting to be picked up," he said after the election.
Most observers agree that Wilder's tightfisted budgeting was the hallmark of his administration, and that, while often seeming bored with other policy decisions, Wilder was a hands-on money manager.
"The governor was one of the first to see economic downturn coming and one of the first people to call it a recession," said Paul W. Timmreck, his finance secretary. Wilder's foresight, he added, helped the state survive its worst economic period since the Great Depression without massive layoffs or a major disruption in services.
\ Budget cuts and bookkeeping tricks
Wilder entered office inheriting a two-year state budget that anticipated Virginia would continue to enjoy the robust growth of the 1980s. But the economy sagged, and Wilder was confronted with a $2.2 billion revenue shortfall during his first year.
The governor made up half of the money with budget cuts. Support for state agencies was trimmed by an average of 20 percent.
Wilder recovered the rest by juggling various accounts and employing a variety of bookkeeping tricks. For example, he made up $600 million by diverting lottery profits into the state's operating budget. The proceeds were supposed to go into a fund for building state facilities.
The cuts weren't painless. State colleges and universities, seeking to overcome massive reductions in state aid, raised tuitions an average of 43 percent during the Wilder years. State employees went 29 months without a pay raise. Teachers also were hurt, as Wilder ended an 8-year-old program to bring their salaries up to the national average.
Remaining true to pledges made at the outset of his term, Wilder protected social service programs. Welfare payments were untouched, although inflation took a 12 percent bite out of the checks during the Wilder years. He even found $14 million for medical insurance to 50,000 children from poor working families who did not qualify for Medicaid.
"There is a side of Doug Wilder that takes managing the government very seriously," said Chris Spanos, a lobbyist for several social service interests. "He did an excellent job for making budget cuts in a way that impacted the fewest number of people."
Wilder also gets high marks for surrounding himself with a strong Cabinet - notably Timmreck, Secretary of Health and Human Services Howard M. Cullum and Transportation Secretary John G. Milliken. His style was to give his advisers broad directives and rely on their skills to implement policy.
Wilder brought hundreds of blacks and women into state government. Of 3,000 appointments Wilder made to state boards and commissions during his first three years in office, 20 percent went to minorities and 28 percent to women. In comparison, only 12 percent of Baliles' appointments were minorities and 25 percent were women.
Wilder also promoted women and minorities. He put 34 blacks and 46 women in charge of state departments and agencies. Baliles named only 10 blacks and 41 women to such high-level jobs.
A Wilder-led campaign in 1992 produced overwhelming voter approval of a $613 million borrowing program to build a variety of college buildings, parks and mental health facilities. Voters also authorized creation of a "rainy day fund" to protect the state against future economic downturns. The state will deposit $79.9 million as a first installment in the fund next year.
Wilder's major legislative accomplishment came last winter: passage of a law limiting handgun purchases to one a month. The bill was designed to end Virginia's status as a source for guns flowing to violence-laden cities in the Northeast.
The governor pushed through the legislation with support from a broad coalition of business, civic and education leaders. Some Democrats gripe that Wilder might have won an even tougher bill had he not compromised with Republicans. But others, noting the power of the National Rifle Association and the legislature's traditional reluctance to approve gun controls, credit Wilder with a major breakthrough.
Wilder's effort showed a legislative focus that largely was missing in his first three years. Then, Wilder was unpredictable and pursued flashy, controversial aims without first consulting leading lawmakers.
"There was always a feeling that he was flying by the seat of his pants," Gartlan said. House Speaker Thomas W. Moss Jr., D-Norfolk, once groused: "I never know what's going to happen. There's just no communication from the governor."
Wilder's relationship with the General Assembly hit bottom in 1992. His efforts to tax hospitals, nursing homes and doctors to defray Medicaid costs were soundly defeated and derided as a gimmick that would ultimately increase the medical bills of most citizens.
An angry Assembly also rejected Wilder's amendments to scores of budget items and, for the first time ever, overrode a gubernatorial veto on a bill that would have restricted some legislators from collecting state pensions.
\ A tough time `going national'
The historic nature of his election threw an instant spotlight on Wilder. Although Wilder pledged not to "go national," less than six months after taking office he made well-publicized trips to Iowa and New Hampshire and was dropping broad hints about a 1992 run for president.
He formally announced his candidacy in September 1991, pledging to "put America first" with an agenda of no new taxes and reduced foreign aid.
The campaign quickly foundered. Wilder seemed unprepared to discuss health care and international relations, and his platitudinal promises to balance the federal budget left voters yawning.
Early polls gave Wilder less than 1 percent support in New Hampshire, site of the first presidential primary. He failed to win endorsements from Jesse Jackson and other prominent black leaders; he resorted to sniping at Jackson, whom he accused of undermining his campaign, and Bill Clinton, whom he likened to former Ku Klux Klan leader David Duke.
"The governor hadn't done his homework on national issues," said Morris, the Emory & Henry political scientist. "He was running by the seat of his pants and he ran into the political reality that he just wasn't ready for prime time."
Wilder quit the race in January and later described his candidacy as a "mistake," saying he was wrong to believe he could effectively divide his time between Virginia and a national campaign.
The dalliance with the White House cost Wilder dearly at home. Virginia voters' anger at his campaigning sent his popularity ratings plummeting to 22 percent.
"The bid for the presidency was interpreted by people as Wilder saying Virginia is just a stage from which he'd orchestrate his grander ambitions," said Robert Holsworth, a political scientist at Virginia Commonwealth University. "Wilder has never recovered from it."
Equally annoying to voters was the continuing fight between Wilder and Robb. Tensions going back to 1982 exploded in mid-1991, when Robb's staff leaked transcripts of a clandestinely taped telephone conversation between Wilder and Chesapeake businessman Daniel Hoffler.
The tape was supposed to embarrass Wilder, but proved surprisingly tame. Wilder could be heard chortling over newspaper reports about Robb's attendance at Virginia Beach parties where cocaine was allegedly used. But in the next breath, he credited Robb with being progressive on racial issues.
Wilder's response to the leak was to call himself a "victim of crime," and accuse Robb of trying to undermine his governorship and his presidential run. He was vindicated a year later, with release of a memorandum by a Robb staffer outlining a strategy to discredit Wilder. The goal was to deflect the attention of reporters away from Robb's social life by planting embarrassing stories about Wilder.
Although three Robb aides resigned and pleaded guilty to infractions associated with wiretapping, Wilder was unsatisfied. When a federal grand jury refused to indict Robb early this year, Wilder went to Washington to denounce Robb as an "unindicted co-conspirator," and chastised reporters for assigning him and Robb equal blame for the feud. "What have I done?" he asked.
Wilder can hardly say he never threw a punch, however. A month before the tape surfaced, the governor authorized a brief state police investigation into allegations that Robb supporters were threatening people who had spoken to reporters about the senator's social life. Wilder originally denied being behind the probe, or even knowing about it. He changed his story when former state police Superintendent William T. Corvello contradicted him in testimony to a General Assembly commission.
"Wilder came across as the guy who cried wolf too often," Holsworth said. "The public lost its patience with the rivalry. They lumped both politicians together. To the extent that Wilder kept it alive, it hurt him."
\ `People would have called for impeachment'
Several Wilder advisers say the governor attached a racial undertone to the public's willingness to assign equal blame for the feud. "No one demanded an apology from Robb," said one Wilder loyalist who asked not to be named. "There was a feeling that if Wilder had been caught taping Robb's telephone calls, people would have been calling for impeachment."
"The governor was absolutely right to speak out," said Paul Goldman, a longtime Wilder strategist. "His silence would have been interpreted as acceptance of Robb's tactics."
Wilder is expected to take his case to voters in this spring's Democratic primary against Robb. At first blush, his chances would appear dim given his low popularity. While he's still popular among blacks, polls indicate Wilder has lost the biracial coalition that gave him the governorship. Fewer than one of three white voters give the Wilder administration positive marks.
But voters seem weary of Robb, too. The senator's once vast popularity has plunged to the same 37 percent level Wilder now straddles. Neither candidate has a head start. Nor is it clear how voters will receive the front-runner for the Republican nomination, Oliver North, who still must explain his controversial role in the Iran-Contra scandal and his conservative Christian views.
Wilder's chances for the Senate seem as good as anyone's, offering further proof of his remarkable resilience and timing in politics.
"Another politician, having been through Wilder's experiences over the last four years, might be dead," Holsworth said. "But Doug Wilder is not like any other politician."
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