Basic Brown My Life And Our Times

CHAPTER TWO Willie Brown Is NOT Kidding In 1988 I had been speaker -- Ayatollah -- of the assembly for eight years. I would go on to serve seven more years as speaker. I would still be speaker today were it not for term limits, a destructive idea introduced by mean-spirited wretches from Southern California who sought to deprive the people of San Francisco of the right to reelect me as their assemblyman. You know, even Ronald Reagan opposed term limits. He and Nancy Reagan wrote a letter that was to have been used in the ballot campaign against term limits. But due to the indolence of Democratic colleagues of mine in the California State Senate, the letter wasn't mailed out to the voters, and I and scores of other legislators were "termed-out" because the voters never learned of the Reagans' opposition to the idea.Back in 1988, however, I was unchallenged as speaker until suddenly a handful of members of the assembly decided it was time for me to go. They became known as the "Gang of Five." Their story shows that while the use of power can be elegant (at least when Willie Brown is wielding it), politics itself ain't pretty.You already know one of the Gang of Five: Gary Condit, who in 2003 lost reelection to his seat in the U.S. Congress after having become involved in the scandal around the disappearance and murder of his congressional intern, Chandra Levy. Condit was not implicated in Ms. Levy's brutal slaying, but in denying that he had had an intimate relationship with her, he lied to her family, the press, and investigators. That finished his career. Back then, in 1988, he was an assemblyman from the San Joaquin Valley, the massive agricultural heart of California.With four cohorts in the assembly -- Jerry Eaves, Rusty Areias, Chuck Calderon, and Steve Peace -- Condit attempted to oust me from the speakership, even though I had been generous to them, appointing them to powerful committee chairmanships and providing them with campaign funds and perks galore. Indeed, I had been training them to one day succeed me in the ranks of the powerful in the assembly. They got pushy, though.Without revealing their agenda, they asked one day to meet with me. Assembly members always came first with me, so I stopped what I was doing, brought them to my inner office, and served them coffee. They came right to the point."We think it's time," said Condit, "for you to give us your exit date." They said, you know, we really love you, you've set the record, you're going to go down in history: you've been speaker for seven and half years, longer than anyone else, and you're the first black speaker, but we want to take over. I was surprised but not fazed.I said, "You young fellows, you really impress me with your skills and your ability. Each of you is the chair of a major committee, each of you holds an important position, so when people like you say something like this, I have to listen. But, oh boy, this is not something we can decide easily -- there are a lot of ramifications. So let me go cancel all my other appointments for this afternoon and we'll talk about this in depth." I stepped out of my office.Whew. Now, a challenge to a speaker's hold on his chair can never be unexpected. In fact, in California challenges to previous speakers were common. As speaker you're holding a job that not only has no built-in tenure, but your job security depends on your constantly pleasing a majority of the membership. Politics and ambition being what they are, somebody is always unhappy. Somebody is always thinking of toppling you.But you don't expect a coup attempt from your own side, especially from members to whom you had given chances for advancement. What was it my mentor, Machiavelli, said? "Lavish your allies and underlings with honors and opportunities, and they shall not desire to change princes"? Well, Machiavelli never lived with my legislature. My mistake witBrown, Willie L., Jr. is the author of 'Basic Brown My Life And Our Times', published 2007 under ISBN 9780743290814 and ISBN 074329081X.