That someone was a fiery Progressive Era reformer named Hiram Johnson, who could never have imagined that his well-intentioned but poorly reasoned recall process would be reincarnated 92 years later as High Chaotic Concept: “Survivor” on steroids, “American Idol” with consequences just a tad more serious than whether Ruben will outsell Clay. You can feel Johnson’s spirit now, confused by the flow of half-remembered cultural flotsam below, from Hustler Magazine (Larry Flynt) to “Diff’rent Strokes” (Gary Coleman) to “Politically Incorrect” (Arianna Huffington) to the 1984 L.A. Olympics (Peter Ueberroth). They were all in the big pool last week, candidates for governor in a special recall election Oct. 7, plus this well-built guy from Austria who makes movies.
Before explaining Arnold Schwarzenegger’s scene-stealing, a few of the bizarre ground rules: The “Greatest Political Show on Earth” will climax in two parts, with voters first deciding whether to boot Gov. Gray Davis less than a year after he was re-elected, then–whether they vote yes or no on the recall–choosing from a randomly ordered list of scores of entrants to replace him. If the recall succeeds by a simple majority (more than half of those who vote), then the new governor, effective immediately, is whichever replacement candidate wins a plurality. In other words, Davis could win 49 percent of the vote on question 1, but be replaced by someone who receives only 15 or 20 percent of the vote on question 2. Very democratic. Oh, and if Davis resigns, it doesn’t matter legally. His lieutenant governor, Cruz Bustamante, now a candidate to replace him, would become acting governor only until Oct. 7, when a new governor would be elected.
Arnold’s entry was a masterly piece of political theater. By sending mixed signals and keeping the news from even his closest aides, who were shocked, he turned a splashy but hardly original movie-star candidacy–see Reagan, R.–into a tidal wave of free publicity. “The Tonight Show” venue and jokes struck some as crude but worked to ease the transition from the actor’s natural show-business habitat to the political realm. And it sent the Democrats reeling, at least for now, torn between the old hard line against the recall and the obvious need for a new, confused stutter-step message: no on the recall, yes on Bustamante as insurance against losing the statehouse. Schwarzenegger’s entry makes it hard to portray the whole thing as a right-wing plot. “He did to the Democratic Party what Rumsfeld wanted to do to the Baath Party–‘shock and awe’,” says longtime party activist Tom Hayden from the sidelines. Only someone unfamiliar with Schwarzenegger’s cunning and competitiveness would underestimate him.
Team Arnold is banking on a repeat of what happened in Minnesota in 1998, when Jesse Ventura brought thousands of young people to the polls who had never voted before (new registration closes Sept. 22). “Movie stars have constituencies like politicians. Arnold’s is 19-year-old Hispanic males. They’re the first in line to see his movies. If he gets them to the polls, watch out,” says Bill Whalen, a onetime adviser to former GOP governor Pete Wilson, whose team is helping pump up Schwarzenegger.
For years, “The Running Man” couldn’t seem to get himself to the polls. According to available voting records, Schwarzenegger voted in only six of the last 13 state-wide elections, missing controversial ballot initiatives on the minimum-wage increase in 1996 and bilingual education in 1998. During the 1996, 1998 and 2000 primary and general elections, he apparently voted only once (in the 1998 general). So there is no record available of his voting in the 2000 election between Al Gore and George W. Bush. Arnold’s team produced evidence that he was issued an absentee ballot that year, but it is unclear whether he cast it.
Nowadays, “Ahnold” is reluctant to have “Dubya” campaign for him in California, where the president is not popular. Bush, for his part, said last week that Schwarzenegger would be a “good governor.” If winning California in 2004 is still a long shot for Karl Rove, campaigning there with a popular Governor Schwarzenegger could at least divert precious resources the Democratic nominee would prefer to use elsewhere. Meanwhile the Clintons say they support Davis, but Hillary last week found time in California for Jay Leno and book buyers but not the governor. One message the Democrats will push: You wanna talk deficits? Look at Washington, not just Sacramento.
Beyond his peculiar charm, Schwarzenegger’s biggest asset is that he’s not “Conan the Barbarian” politically but a moderate Republican whose views are in sync with those of most Californians. He’s pro abortion rights, pro gay adoption, pro environment (despite the Hummer) and a confessed “liberal” on other social issues. In fact, his most relevant political experience came last year, when he championed Proposition 49, which will in some solvent (probably distant) day devote more than half a billion dollars to ensure after-school programs for every elementary- and middle-school student in California. Last week Rush Limbaugh reminded conservatives that the body-builder turned actor is no Reaganite. One of the scores of unanswered questions is whether pro-recall conservatives will swallow their qualms and vote for him or go with their 2002 gubernatorial nominee, Bill Simon, which could fracture the GOP vote and make Bustamante governor.
That’s assuming the recall succeeds. The carnival quality of the process is Davis’s best bet for survival. He’s unpopular with almost everyone outside his immediate family and would lose a regular election in a landslide. But there’s nothing regular about this. “It’s going to look like the clown car at the circus with 427 clowns falling off one car,” says Garry South, Davis’s former strategist in a line that tested well with focus groups. The Davis game plan is to leave the personal dirt on Schwarzenegger to the tabloids (most of it won’t stick unless something new and devastating surfaces) and portray himself as the victim of an “unfair” recall process that began almost immediately after he was re-elected. One informal adviser even suggested that the governor run a “Charles Atlas campaign,” with Davis as the 97-pound weakling who is picked on by the muscle-bound bully.
But Schwarzenegger himself may look puny on policy by the time the media are through with him. Right away last week, the coverage toughened, with reporters quizzing him on substantive specifics he hasn’t figured out yet. If the impression solidifies that he is strong on cliches and short on detailed knowledge, that could become the “master narrative” of the campaign. More likely, his seasoned team will churn out position papers and the candidate, a famously quick study, will bone up to defend himself.
Schwarzenegger cannot be president; the Constitution bars the foreign-born from the White House. But he’s doing for California politics what he did for body-building and action films–making it fun to watch again, at least in the short run. As for Hiram Johnson’s handiwork, petition passers will soon begin collecting signatures for a ballot initiative that would reform… initiatives. In the “Total Recall” future, will anyone recall the recall of recalls? Only in California, where everything is psychedelic again.
