Features

Two actions by California Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger in recent days show that the bare threads are beginning to show on his coat of many colors (note: “coat of many colors” is a Biblical reference for my Christian friends who think I don’t love them). 

Anyways, let’s take the governor’s actions in reverse order of chronology. 

This week, the Oakland Tribune reports that in an editorial board interview, Mr. Schwarzenegger referred to Attorney General Bill Lockyer, state Treasurer Phil Angelides and state schools chief Jack O’Connell “the Three Stooges” because they criticized his budget policies. The governor’s newly-acquired habit of ridicule-by-labeling his opponents is not one of the actions I’m speaking of. It’s an art at which Mr. Schwarzenegger is p articularly awful, but having hit a home run with his “girlie-men” remark last year, we can expect that he will keep taking mighty swings and whiffing for the rest of his political career, so we might as well get used to it (history is on our side in this conclusion; after giving one of modern movie’s most memorable and wittiest one-liners in The Terminator—“I’ll be back”—he repeated the attempt, ad nauseum, ad infinitum, in each of his subsequent movies, of which he had many, with increasingly dismal res ults). 

Anyways, again, the Tribune reports that in its interview with Mr. Schwarzenegger, the governor “referred to ‘all the investigations’ hamstringing some of his other outspoken Democratic foes.” The reference, of course, was to State Senate President Don Perata of Oakland, and the ongoing federal grand jury investigation into lobbyist Lily Hu and other aspects of Mr. Perata’s political empire. 

In this, the governor stepped dangerously close to the line, if not actually crossing over, and if you’re looking for a joke, here, sorry, but I haven’t got one. 

This column is no particular admirer of Mr. Perata, at whom we will continue to stick as many jabs as are both appropriate and possible. But an investigation, after all, is only an investigation. It is not a conviction, or an indictment. It is not even an allegation. Mr. Schwarzenegger, who stood in the pulpit at Oakland’s Allen Temple this week and praised Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. for his “courage, courage, courage,” might take care to be reminde d that the FBI was used repeatedly during Dr. King’s career—not to convict him of serious charges—but to smear him with innuendo and, thereby, discredit his work. As California governor and therefore the state’s judge of last resort (he decides, after all, the ultimate: who lives and who dies in our state’s death chamber), Mr. Schwarzenegger has a particular responsibility to pay attention to the foundations of law. While the rest of us might speculate, in public or in private, over the meaning and possib le outcomes of Mr. Perata’s recent legal difficulties, the governor—of all of us—needs to adhere to the fundamental tenet of American law: all citizens are presumed innocent of any and all crimes unless and until they are found guilty in a court of law. T his is something that both the left and the right of the political spectrums ought to be able to unite on. 

To talk of Mr. Perata’s odd lobbying activities is fair game, even for the governor. But for Mr. Schwarzenegger—who so often substitutes one-liners for thoughtful and reasoned comment—FBI and federal grand jury investigations ought to be way off limits. 

Which brings us back to the governor’s “Three Stooges” reference to Attorney General Bill Lockyer, state Treasurer Phil Angelides and state schools chief Jack O’Connell because of their criticism of his budget policies. “In particular,” the Tribune explains, the three top state Democrats were “attacking the governor’s borrowing to balance his spending plan and for what they say are his broken vows t o fully fund education.” 

Actually, it wasn’t what Mr. Lockyer, Mr. Angelides, and Mr. O’Connell say are Mr. Schwarzenegger’s broken vows to fully fund education. This rises beyond the level of political attack and up to the area of actual fact. 

Last yea r, in his efforts to present a balanced budget to the Legislature, Mr. Schwarzenegger made deals with various statewide groups. One of these groups was the state Education Coalition, an alliance of school boards, teachers and education workers unions, and PTAs. In exchange for the Education Coalition’s promise not to fight temporary suspension of Proposition 98 and K-12 education cuts in the 2004-05 state budget, Mr. Schwarzenegger promised to restore that money in the 2005-06 budget, and to make sure tha t public education got its full share of funding in the years beyond. This was not just a vague promise of unknown numbers to be figured out at a later date-the actual amounts are determined by the formulas laid out by the voters in Prop 98. It’s like the governor getting a book today, and promising to return to the bookstore next week to pay the $14.95. 

Only now it’s next week, and Mr. Schwarzenegger is back saying that he’s not paying. In the summary of his submitted state budget, he sums it up thus: “To achieve balance in 2005-06, virtually every part of state government must take a reduction in the funding that it would otherwise have received if spending were allowed to grow unchecked. … Last year, the education community joined with the governor in postponing $2 billion in what Proposition 98 would otherwise have provided. …[The 2005-06] Budget reflects a decision not to appropriate Proposition 98 increases of $1.1 billion in 2004-05 and $1.17 billion in 2005-06. These increases would otherwise hav e been required were the Proposition 98 guarantee allowed to run on autopilot next year.” 

Let us turn aside from the official reasoning given by the governor for the reneging, that “left unaltered, the operation of Proposition 98 would have crowded out a ll available general funds-and would have resulted in deeper and more severe cuts to health and human services programs provided by the state.” That may be true, but it’s not the point. 

Politicians—within their own circle—are the most honest people I kno w. No deal between politicians is made with a written contract. Most are done outside of public view, without even so much as a handshake. If carpenters’ tools of trade are their hammers, then politicians’ are their word. A politician might lie through hi s teeth to his constituents and the rest of the world, but among other players in the political world, he keeps his word, or he’s got nothing left with which to trade. 

Mr. Schwarzenegger remains a formidable power in California, still with an enormous re servoir of support among voters. In a straight-up contest between the governor and the rest of California’s politicians, Mr. Schwarzenegger will still win, hands-down. But it is with these other politicians that Mr. Schwarzenegger must deal in order to make his government move forward. And after the education pullback, who is going to trust his word? 

Like the ghost of Hamlet’s father, this one will come back to haunt. 

?