Four years ago, Antonio Villaraigosa seemed to come out of nowhere to reach within a whisker of being elected L.A. mayor. His campaign more resembled a movement than a traditional political operation as he rode a tide of endorsements and amassed tens of thousands of followers. Even the election night party seemed more like a celebration of Los Angeles than the admission of defeat after a bitter contest.
Now, as the 52-year-old former Assembly speaker-turned-city councilman nears the final stretch of his second try for mayor, even his closest friends and allies say the magic is missing. The crowds are smaller, the endorsements fewer, and most of all the candidate lacks the charm that so captivated Angelenos four years ago.
“There just doesn’t seem to be the spark that he once had,” said L.A. County Supervisor Gloria Molina, one of Villaraigosa’s political mentors and friends.
In recent weeks, he has suffered a series of specific setbacks, losing the two biggest endorsements he had last time: the County Federation of Labor (which has endorsed Mayor James Hahn) and the County Democratic Party, which voted last week to remain neutral. And his performances in the first two mayoral debates have been considered lackluster.
Villaraigosa insists he is very much in the hunt. Though he entered the race late, he is better known this time around, has raised $1.7 million and remains the leading contender to make it into the runoff with Hahn.
He also says this race is different, that the focus now is on Hahn’s record and the ethical difficulties confronting the mayor’s administration. And, he said, last-minute attack ads like those Hahn used in the last campaign ads that helped derail Villaraigosa’s first run won’t have the same effect now. “Trying to demonize me a second time won’t work,” he said.
Charismatic figure
Even so, Villaraigosa still appears to be searching for the right formula. Indeed, it’s been state Sen. Richard Alarc & #328;n who has exhibited the rhetorical passion that Villaraigosa had in previous elections.
“Last time, he thought that enthusiasm alone would win it for him. Now he has to come to grips with developing a winning strategy,” said Maria Elena Durazo, head of the Unite/HERE Local 11 union of hotel and restaurant employees.
Durazo, who is married to County Federation of Labor chief Miguel Contreras, has known Villaraigosa nearly 20 years, ever since his days as an organizer for United Teachers Los Angeles.
Back then, Durazo said, Villaraigosa was a “magnet” to people. “He had this infectious enthusiasm; the moment he entered the room, it would just pull you in,” she remembered.
Even as a 10-year-old on an elementary school playground in Boyle Heights, young Tony Villar (his current name is a “merger” with wife Corina’s maiden name) “always stood up for the littlest kid on the playground who was being bullied by someone else,” said childhood friend Pete Navarro, who is now an attorney on L.A.’s Eastside.
Again and again, friends and associates described this trait of caring for the underdog whether it was as a Chicano activist 30 years ago, organizing L.A. Unified School District teachers for a strike in the late 1980s or even as Assembly Speaker in the late 1990s.
“He drew from his life experiences,” said Cynthia Ruiz, a longtime friend who first encountered Villaraigosa during his days as a student activist at UCLA. “For example, his mother never drove and was always taking the bus, so Antonio became very passionate about public transit.” He eventually got named by then-Councilwoman Molina to the transit board.
There was also a rough underside to Villaraigosa. Growing up in the Boyle Heights/City Terrace area in the late 1960s, he was drawn into the local youth culture. “He didn’t join a gang, but he did join a car club and went cruising around with his friends,” Navarro said.
Villaraigosa was arrested and charged with misdemeanor assault for his role in a brawl while celebrating his 24th birthday. The trial ended in a hung jury and prosecutors declined to retry the case.
Around that time, the unmarried Villaraigosa fathered two children, and those around him grew concerned that a promising social activist was getting sucked into the street culture that was all around him. But he emerged as a leader for Chicano rights as a senior at UCLA.
Running for Assembly
His first big test came as an organizer for the UTLA when the teachers went out on strike.
“He wasn’t the leader of the strike, but he did play a big role. He was able to help get other union and community support for the teachers; he even brought me in to support the strike,” Durazo said. “In the end, the UTLA was much better off after that strike.”
After a brief stint as head of the Los Angeles chapter of the American Civil Liberties Union, Villaraigosa decided to run for the state Assembly on L.A.’s Eastside in 1994. He took on Bill Mabie, the chief of staff and hand-picked successor of powerful Latino Assemblyman Richard Polanco. “Mabie represented more of the established political machine and here was Antonio coming out of nowhere,” Durazo said.
Villaraigosa won and proved a quick study in Sacramento. He benefited from impeccable timing as term limits helped clear out many senior legislators. Yet he also used his natural skills at coalition-building to win the friends he needed.
Timing was again on Villaraigosa’s side when he became Speaker in 1997. The state’s economy was flush, which gave him the chance to reward friends and avoid having to cut programs dear to the hearts of his allies. With Democrat Gray Davis elected governor midway through Villaraigosa’s speakership, the legislator rounded up bipartisan support for a massive $9.2 billion school facilities construction bond and a $2 billion parks bond, among other things.
Still, some of his old friends and allies bristled at his ambition.
“He reinvented himself. Instead of being the crusader for social justice, he became a compromiser,” one former colleague said. “While that may have been necessary to get things done, it also meant disappointing some of his best friends.”
Another friend from his union days was more sympathetic to Villaraigosa’s changing priorities.
“A handful of people thought he regarded himself as too good for them now,” this friend said. “But I didn’t take it that way. He just didn’t have the time to cultivate the friendships he had built up during previous years.”
What struck some as a deeper character flaw was Villaraigosa’s extramarital affair he admitted having while in Sacramento.
“Antonio has this great agility and charisma, but he lacks discipline,” a former Assembly colleague said. “There is a scale in his brain that figures out how much he can take things to the edge and then he does those things. And in many instances, it’s further than many people can or want to go.”
While he was in Sacramento, Villaraigosa became fast friends with his roommate for a time, Robert Hertzberg, who is now an opponent for the mayor’s post. The two had many of the same qualities, including the ability to win over potential enemies and cut a deal.
But when Villaraigosa named Hertzberg to succeed him as speaker, the friendship began to unravel. Villaraigosa supporters say that Hertzberg, conscious of the ticking clock of term limits, tried to push Villaraigosa aside before his tenure ended so that he could hit the ground running as Speaker.
Hertzberg supporters say Villaraigosa refused to relinquish his post, even when it became obvious he was launching his campaign for L.A. mayor.
Whatever the reason and neither Hertzberg nor Villaraigosa will talk about it the two went from friends to enemies almost overnight.
“Loyalty to friends is such a big thing with Antonio, which is why this whole thing with Hertzberg is so puzzling,” said Contreras, the labor chief.
Molina, who counts both Hertzberg and Villaraigosa as friends, concurred. “This was a very personal falling out. Something deeper than just when to hand over power. It’s really tragic.”
First mayoral run
Villaraigosa had come to believe that with his background as a union activist and bipartisan dealmaker in Sacramento, he was the most uniquely qualified to unite L.A.’s ethnic enclaves.
He was urged to run by many of his closest friends, as well as powerful business figures such as Eli Broad and Ron Burkle. To counteract his low name recognition, Villaraigosa sought and won support from two pillars of the electoral establishment: the County Federation of Labor and the county Democrat Party. “I felt he could bring the city together, connecting the Westside to the Eastside, the Valley with the Harbor,” Contreras said.
He rode this wave to a first-place primary finish with 30 percent of the vote, to second place Hahn’s 25 percent.
After the primary, the national media began to focus on the race, which would have made Villaraigosa the first Latino mayor of heavily Latino Los Angeles in recent times. “I’ve never been a part of anything as big as that campaign,” said Elena Stern, who served as Villaraigosa’s chief spokeswoman.
Then, with two weeks to go in the race, Hahn’s campaign aired a commercial claiming Villaraigosa had written then-President Bill Clinton seeking a pardon for convicted cocaine dealer Carlos Vignali. The ad went on to imply that Villaraigosa was willing to consort with drug dealers.
Villaraigosa took several days to respond. While he tried to explain his action, he could not deny the ad’s central premise. He refused to go on the offensive against Hahn and within days, his poll numbers plummeted and he lost support among conservative white voters in the Valley.
Hahn was able to pick off those voters and, combined with a solid showing in the black community, pull off a come-from-behind win. It was Villaraigosa’s first electoral defeat.
“The defeat really toughened him up. One of the things he learned is that if you’re always the gentleman, you may not win,” Durazo said.
Gunning for Council
After the election, Villaraigosa took a break from seeking an elected office and went to work for Broad as the political liaison for an ambitious 100-acre biotech park next to County-USC Hospital. That effort bogged down, and Villaraigosa quietly dropped out.
Villaraigosa began eyeing his return to the political arena. He decided against challenging his childhood friend Gil Cedillo for a state Senate seat and instead set his sights on knocking out incumbent Eastside councilman Nick Pacheco against the advice of some of his friends who said it was too big a risk.
“I told him that it’s rare for an incumbent councilmember not caught up in a major scandal to lose his seat,” Contreras said. “He looked at me and said, ‘Miguel, I know this district well. I never run to lose.'”
His campaign quickly gathered steam.
“I was very impressed. He has the ability to speak to a roomful of people and give the impression that he’s speaking with each person individually. That’s an innate talent,” said Eliot Sekuler, a studio public relations executive who sits on the board of the Arroyo Seco Neighborhood Council and is communications chair for the Mt. Washington Association.
During the campaign, Villaraigosa faced questions about whether he might use the council seat as a springboard for another mayoral run. He repeatedly pledged to serve out his four-year term.
“I didn’t believe it,” Molina said. “I knew if there was a shot at another political opportunity, he would take advantage of it.”
By many accounts, Villaraigosa has proven an effective councilman even after he announced last summer he was running for mayor again. He won plaudits for his role in mediating a month-long strike in the fall of 2003 by Metropolitan Transportation Authority bus mechanics.
He also made himself accessible to constituents. “Every morning he goes out for his jog and everybody comes up to him. He’ll listen to everybody we’ve all noted that he’s incredibly patient,” Sekuler said.
But Villaraigosa couldn’t keep out of a bigger arena. He joined U.S. Sen. John Kerry’s campaign for president as a national co-chair in the fall of 2003, months before Kerry emerged as the frontrunner. That prompted speculation that he would seek a post in a Kerry cabinet in Washington.
Meanwhile, last spring, the impact of ethics investigations began to take their toll on the Hahn administration, prompting several high-level departures.
Hertzberg jumped into the mayor’s race last April, which jolted Villaraigosa’s plans. After months of hesitation, Villaraigosa decided to enter the race last August.
That decision did not sit well with a handful of residents who began circulating petitions seeking his recall. After an initial splash, the recall effort seemed to lose steam. But it did raise questions about why he’s running again. Others have questioned whether he has the “fire in the belly.”
Those who know him best say they expect the old Villaraigosa to re-emerge in the closing weeks of the primary campaign. “I don’t think he’s kicked his campaign into full gear yet,” Molina said. “He’s being a little more careful this time around. He’s waiting for that last moment to make his push.”
