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The Formal Organization Of The Democratic Party At The State Level In California

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The Formal Organization Of The Democratic Party At The State Level In California

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Xorox UnhrorsHy Microfilms MO North ZMb ROM Atm Mot, MteMsen 4S10S 74-23,619 WINDSOR, Faith GlorU, 1936- THE FORMAL ORGANIZATION OF THE DEMOCRATIC PARTY AT UC STATE LEVEL IN CALIFORNIA. University of Southern California, Ph.D., 1973 Political Science, general University Microfilms. A X E R O X C o m p a n y , Ann Arbor, Michigan i © 1974 FAITH GLORU WINDSOR ALL RIGHTS RESERVED THIS DISSERTATION HAS BEEN MICROFILMED EXACTLY AS RECEIVED. THE FORMAL ORGANIZATION OF THE DEMOCRATIC PARTY AT THE STATE LEVEL IN CALIFORNIA by Faith Gloria Windsor A Dissertation Presented to the FACULTY OF THE GRADUATE SCHOOL UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA In Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY (Political Science) June 1973 UNIVEfW TY O F SOU TH ERN CALIFORNIA THK ORAOUATK SCHOOL UNIVERSITY PARK LOS AMSKLKS. CALIFORNIA SOOS7 This dissertation, written by ....................... under the direction of Dissertation Com mittee, and approved by ail its members, has been presented to and accepted by The Graduate School, in partial fulfillment of requirements of the degree of D O CTO R OF P H IL O SO P H Y DISSERTATION COM MITTEE . ^ 1 P lfj jW c** ....^^4.4 ...... DEDICATION This dissertation is dedicated, with deep gratitude, to Professor Totton J. Anderson, whose patience, encouragement, and administrative virtuousity finally triumphed over my inertia, inefficiency, and pro clivity for getting into trouble. ii TABLE OF CONTENTS Page DEDICATION ii TABLE OF CONTENTS iii LIST OF TABLES v ABSTRACT viii Chapter I INTRODUCTION 1 Research Background Purpose and Scope of Inquiry Data Sources and Methods of Investigation Design and Administration of the Survey II A BRIEF HISTORY OF LEGAL REGULATION OF STATE PARTY ORGANIZATION IN CALIFORNIA . . 37 The Law Before Progressive Reform Progressive Reform Progressive Reform in Earnest The End of Progressive Reform The Law of 1929 Changes in the Law, 1929-1951 The End of Cross-Filing Changes in the Law, 1957-1969 Composition Convention Arrangements The Convention The Platform Note on the Selection of Candidates for Presidential Elector III THE STATE CONVENTION 94 iii TABLE OF CONTENTS (Continued) Chapter Page IV THE STATE CENTRAL COMMITTEE: COMPOSITION AND PROCEDURE OF STATE CENTRAL COMMITTEE MEETINGS......................... 152 Composition The State Central Committee Meeting Conclusion V THE EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE: COMPOSITION, ATTENDANCE, AND MEMBERSHIP CHARACTERISTICS . 259 Composition Attendance Characteristics of Members VI THE EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE: POWERS AND FUNCTIONS.............................. 390 VII NOTES ON TWO ORGANIZATIONAL ADAPTATIONS. . . . 532 VIII PARTY REORGANIZATION WITHIN AND WITHOUT THE Specifically Delegated Powers and Duties Functions The Steering Committee The Women's Division LAW SSI BIBLIOGRAPHY 583 APPENDIX 601 iv LIST OF TABLES T a b le Page 1. NUMBER OF DEMOCRATIC INCUMBENTS, 1952-1966 . . 99 2. VOTE ON MILLER'S AMENDMENT TO UNRUU'S RESO LUTION BY CONGRESSIONAL DISTRICTS— STATE CENTRAL COMMITTEE, AUGUST 26, 1962 239 3. NORTHERN COUNTY CHAIRMEN— ATTENDANCE AT NORTHERN MEETINGS ........................ 267 4. ATTENDANCE AT EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE MEETING: JUNE 6, 1959— JUNE 11, 1966 .............. 271 5. COUNTIES REPRESENTED IN SAMPLE OF CON GRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN, BY TYPE: DEMO CRATIC, INCONSISTENT, REPUBLICAN 285 6. CHARACTERISTICS OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIR MEN'S ASSEMBLY DISTRICTS ................ 287 7. AGES OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN............ 292 8. AGES OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN AND COUNTY CHAIRMEN COMPARED, BY PERCENTAGES . .292 9. PERCENTAGES OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN, COUNTY CHAIRMEN# AND NATIONAL CONVENTION DELEGATES UNDER 49/50 YEARS OF A G E ........ 294 10. FORMAL EDUCATION OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIR MEN ..................................... 294 11. OCCUPATIONS OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN ... 304 12. OCCUPATIONS OF SPOUSES OF CONGRESSIONAL CO- CHAIRMEN ................................ 306 13. PERCENTAGES OF CO-CHAIRMEN AND SPOUSES IN HIGH STATUS OCCUPATIONS, BY REGION........ 307 14. TOTAL FAMILY INCOME OF CONGRESSIONAL CO- CHAIRMEN ................................ 307 v LIST OF TABLES (Continued) Tables Page 15. RELIGIOUS AFFILIATIONS OF CO-CHAIRMEN, COMPARED WITH DEMOCRATIC VOTERS, BY PERCENTAGES ............................. 318 16. RELIGIOUS AFFILIATIONS OF CO-CHAIRMEN, COMPARED WITH CALIFORNIA'S DEMOCRATIC NATIONAL CONVENTION DELEGATES, BY PERCENTAGES ............................. 318 17. RELIGIOUS AFFILIATIONS OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN............................. 321 18. RACE OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN, COMPARED WITH DEMOCRATIC VOTERS, BY PERCENTAGES ... 321 19. RACE OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN........... 324 20. RESIDENTIAL STABILITY OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN............................. 324 21. CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN: LENGTH OF RESIDENCE IN CALIFORNIA.................. 331 22. WHERE CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN WERE RAISED, BY REGION ...............................331 23. WHERE CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN WERE RAISED, BY TYPE OF COMMUNITY......................334 24. CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN: LENGTH OF RESIDENCE IN PRESENT COUNTY................ 334 25. FAMILY STATUS OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN . . 338 26. MARITAL STATUS OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN . 338 27. CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN: NUMBER OF CHILDREN.................................339 28. CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN: PARENTAL POLITICAL ACTIVITY .................... 339 29. REGIONAL DIFFERENCES IN POLITICAL ACTIVITY OF CO-CHAIRMEN'S PARENTS ................ 344 vi LIST OF TABLES (Continued) Table Page 30. CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN: NUMBER OF YEARS OF PARTY ACTIVITY....................... 344 31. AGE AT WHICH CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN BEGAN PARTY ACTIVITY......................348 32. NUMBER OF YEARS OF PARTY ACTIVITY: CONGRES SIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN AND DEMOCRATIC NATIONAL CONVENTION DELEGATES COMPARED, BY PERCEN TAGES *(■•(■•■■*..**.*.••*348 33. PUBLIC OFFICES SOUGHT BY CONGRESSIONAL CO- CHAIRMEN ................................ 353 34. APPOINTIVE POSITIONS HELD BY CO-CHAIRMEN . . . 353 35. CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN: PARTY POSITIONS . . 364 36. CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN: NUMBER OF PARTY POSITIONS................................ 364 37. CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN: MEMBERSHIPS IN UNOFFICIAL PARTY ORGANIZATIONS IN 1971 . . . 370 38. CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN: NUMBER OF MEMBERSHIPS IN UNOFFICIAL PARTY ORGANIZA TIONS IN 1971 370 39. CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN: OFFICES IN UNOF FICIAL pARTY ORGANIZATIONS IN 1971 372 40. C0N91MS10NAL CO-CHAIRMEN HOLDING ONE OR MORE CLUB MEMBERSHIPS: DISTRIBUTION BY TYPE OF CLUB AFFILIATION .........................372 41. CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN: PRIOR MEMBERSHIP ON THE STATE CENTRAL COMMITTEE ........... 380 42. CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN: PRIOR MEMBERSHIP ON THE EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE ................380 vii ABSTRACT OF THE DISSERTATION THE FORMAL ORGANIZATION OF THE DEMOCRATIC PARTY AT THE STATE LEVEL IN CALIFORNIA The purpose of this study is to help overcome the paucity of information about official state party organiza tions. It examines, most intensively, three organs of the California Democratic party— the state convention, state central committee, and executive committee— and traces the effects of external conditions and events on their struc tures, internal processes, and activities. The main tem poral focus is the politically distinctive period from 1954 through 1966. The principal data sources are party docu ments, personal interviews, a survey of congressional co- chairmen, and personal observation and participation. Many scholars regard statutory regulation as a primary cause of party organizational weakness. This study's central hypothesis was that both the law and party structures and functions are shaped by the perceptions, goals, and inter-relationships of officeholders and other party leaders, operating in different and changing environ ments. The law makes legislative nominees the dominant element in the convention and state committee and gives viii northerners and incumbents disproportionate representation in the latter. However, external conditions have signifi cantly altered the effects of the legal formula; the abo lition of cross-filing reduced county committee represen tation, and reapportionroent and electoral outcomes have af fected north/south, incumbent/non-incumbent control of membership positions. Examination of the convention's platform process yields two noteworthy findings: that officeholders and interest groups sometimes take the platform seriously and that, while reflecting "party-rationality," platforms con tain specific and important policy commitments. Differ*., ences between platforms and state committee resolutions are explained by differences in membership composition. Sectional bifurcation strongly affects the behavior of the state and executive committees in leadership selec tion and other activities. The most important cross-sec tional cleavages are between volunteer activists and incum bents and between gubernatorial and legislative factions. Northern cohesion and southern factionalism are reflected by leadership turnover rates, the direction of inter-re gional interventions, and decisions of statewide caucuses. Idiosyncratic factors have also affected the internal or ganisational processes and roles and external activities of the state and executive committees. Most important ware ix the personalities, goals, and organizational leadership roles of Governor Brown and Assembly Speaker Unruh. The co-chairmen data confirm the relationship be tween social class achievement and political leadership. Race and religion yield ambiguous and regionally anomalous results. Co-chairmen have substantial community anchorage, as measured by length of state residence and familial ties. Among several measures of political experience, length of party activity and organizational membership and leadership backgrounds show a substantial record of party service. Local clubs are the moat important points of or ganizational entry. Comparison with other leadership sam ples indicates that organizational career mobility and di versity in California say not be as exceptional as some au thors suggest. Membership overlap between the CDC and the official state organization has declined sharply. Signifi cant regional differences are revealed by measures of sev eral characteristics: income, religion, birthplace, con tinuous state residence, organizational membership and leadership experience, and CDC/non-CDC affiliations. Co-chairmen represent a considerable, and largely unexploited, resource of politically-relevant abilities, knowledge, add experience. High turnover is an important limitation on their contributions to the executive commit tee's deliberations and to district leadership tasks. x Attempts by Democrats to achieve party reform by amending the law might be better invested in making legally permitted changes. An examination of state structures yields ample precedent and a wide sphere of alternatives for such organizational innovations. The participant di rection of reformist impulses may be self-defeating if it results in ideological rigidity, prevents organizational adaptation to the technological requirements of modern campaigning and, consequently, further impells party or ganizations toward electoral impotence and irrelevance. xi CHAPTER I INTRODUCTION Research Background There is almost a liturgical quality to the litera ture on political parties in California. According to the familiar cant, the combined effect of progressive reform, nonpartisanship, high population mobility, lack of patron age, poor leadership, cross-filing, north-south sectional ism, urban-rural cleavages, powerful pressure groups, pro fessionalized and personalized campaigning, and legal strait-jacketing has been a general paresis of party organ ization in California. Crouch, et al., offer a typical and succinct view of the feeble condition of party organization in this stated Through a combination of historical factors, the nature of the population, and unique legal devices, party has been relegated to a meager and nominal role— impotent, starved, and ill organized.1 Given this view, it is not surprising that, in most of the ^Winston W. Crouch, et al., California Government end Politics (2d ed.; Englewood Cliffs, New Jerseyt Prentice-tiall, Inc., 1960), pp. 72-73, 1 2 literature on California politics, party organization is dismissed with a chart and a few words indicating that party structures are "hollow shells" within which no busi- 2 ness of significance can be conducted. As yet, no scholar has offered a comprehensive and detailed description and analysis of party organization in California. There have been separate studies of unofficial 3 organizations, national convention delegations and their A 5 members, county committees and their chairmen, and local 2Ibid. 3Francis M. Carney, The Rise of Democratic Clubs in California (New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, fncT, lHe); and James Q. Wilson, The Amateur Democrat: Club Politics in Three Cities (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1962). *Eugene C. Lee, "Organization and Administration of a Large Delegation: California Democrats," in Inside Pol itics: The National Conventions. 1960, ed. by Paul Tillett (Dobbs Perry, New York: Oceana Publications, Inc., 1962) pp. 252-271; John H. Bunzel and Eugene C. Lee, The Califor nia Democratic Delegation of I960, Inter-University (?ase Study Number 67 (Birmingham: University of Alabama Press, 1962); Edmond Costantini, "tntraparty Attitude Conflict: Democratic Leadership in California,” Western Political Quarterly, 16 (December, 1963), pp. 256-272; Edmond Costan tini, TKe Democratic Leadership Corps in California (Davis: Institute of Governmental Affairs, University of California 1967). 5John K. Duke, "The County Committeeman and His Role in California Politics" (unpublished Ph.D. disserta tion, Departawnt of Political Science, University of South ern California, 1966); David K. Hart, "The Office of the Party County Chairman in California: A Study of Role Ex pectations" (Unpublished Ph.DU dissertation, Claremont Graduate School, 1965). 3 campaign workers and organizational activists.® The only organizational stratum that has been almost completely ignored in the scholarly literature is that of formal state organization. Only three studies have given more than perfunctory treatment to official state organizations. The best remains Dean R. Cresap's Party Politics in the Golden State, which provided a rich, although by no means exhaus- 7 tive, fund of material. Cresap's book was published in 1954, a year in which California's political scene under went many changes that might qualify some long-standing images of politics in California. Moreover, Cresap's at tention to organizational details was limited by the wide scope of his work, which encompassed all facets of Califor nia politics. Ronald Chinn's doctoral dissertation offered valu able background material but touched upon formal organiza tion only insofar as it related to other topics in his pri- o marily historical study. A master's thesis completed in ®Dwaine Marvick and Charles R. Nixon, "Recruitment Contrasts in Rival Campaign Groups," in Political Decieion- makers, ed. by Dwaine Marrick (Glencoe: Illinois: Free Press, 1961), pp. 193-217. 7 Dean R. Cresap, Party Politics in the Golden State (Los Angeles: Haynes Foundation, 19^4). 8Ronald e. Chinn, "Democratic Party Politics in California, 1920-1956" (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation. Department of Political Science, University of California, Berkeley, 1958). 4 1953 focused upon the Democratic state central committee but was concerned primarily with legal regulation and the Q socioeconomic characteristics of members. It gave little attention to the operation of the dommittee and its auxil iary organs. There continues to be a lack of up-to-date information about the structure and functions of state party organizations in California. This dearth of data about formal state organization can lead to one of two conclusions about the subject. One is that, after one has recited the reasons for the debili tated condition of formal organization in California and has listed relevant portions of the Elections Code# the matter is not worthy of further discussion. The other is that the lack of data is itself sufficient justification for research. The latter has, in part, motivated this study. There has been no work which gives a comprehensive account of formal organization et the state level since 1954. In this period, there have been significant changes in the California political environment--for example, the rise and fall of the Democratic club movement and radical shifts in party control of executive and legislative 9 Richard Israel, "An Analysis of California State Democratic Party Organizationt The State Central Commit tee" (unpublished M.A. thesis. Department of Political Science, University of California, Berkeley, 1953). 5 offices. There have also been some important changes in the Elections Code. The effects of such developments on state party organization have not been traced. Moreover, the "hollow shell" image of formal party organization and the lack of scholarly interest in more than a perfunctory acknowledgement of its legally ordained existence may not be entirely deserved. They fail to ac count for the avidity with which party leaders pursue con trol of the formal apparatus, evidenced by the intensity and bitterness that sometimes characterize contests for the state chairmanship and regional chairmanship; the vehemence of the fights that sometimes occur over planks in the "meaningless" platforms; and the time and energy that are expended in preparation for the state convention and state central committee meetings, even in election years when these resources are in such short supply. These phenomena should be explained before formal party organization is dismissed as counting for nothing in the political life of California. A tendency to ignore party organization in general and formal state organization in particular has not been peculiar to students of California politics. As late as 1968, Frank Sorauf was still complaining about the failure of American scholars to focus on parties as organiza 6 tions.*® He issued a plea and an admonition, both of which reflect assumptions underlying this dissertation. The plea was for a research emphasis on party qua organization. Sorauf complained that the study of parties had been dominated by research on elections, electoral be havior, and legislative cohesion because of the ready ac cessibility of aggregate and survey data.^ Information about the inner workings of party organizations is harder to obtain, and, consequently, the subject has not received adequate attention. Moreover, he contended, American scholars have been reluctant to thke an explicitly struc tural approach to the study of parties, perhaps because American parties, in contrast to European mass membership 1 2 parties, have been organizationally weak. Sorauf pointed out that the great theoretical tra dition in the parties subfield was established by men who had a distinctively organizational orientation to their subject matter, the most recent contributor being Samuel *°Frank J. Sorauf, Party Politics in America (Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1968), pp. 400-401. Sorauf's criticisms of scholarly deficiencies were devel oped more fully; in "Political Parties and Political Anal ysis," in The American Party Systems* Stages of Political Development, ed. by Wililam wisbet Chambers and waiter bean Burnham (New York: Oxford University Press, 1967), pp. 33-55. ^Sorauf, "Political Parties," pp. 39-41. *2Ibid., p. 38. 7 13 Elder*veld.J To ignore organization, therefore, is to in- 14 vite theoretical impoverishment. While Sorauf admired the theoretical enrichment produced by an organizational emphasis, he also admonished against premature theorizing in the absense of adequate in formation about the internal life and external activities 15 or party organizations. J He suggested that much theoriz ing had grown out a paucity of information. Scholars have been subjecting limited data to "ever more refined analy sis," a process which must eventually reach a point of Ibid., p. 36. See Samuel J. Eldersveld, Politi cal Parties: A Behavioral Analysis (Chicago: Rand McNally and Company, 1964). The other examples are M. Ostrogorski, Democracy and the Organization of Political Parties, ed, by Seymour Martin hipser. Anchor Books (Garden City, New York: Doubleday and Company Inc., 1964); Robert Michels, Politi cal Parties, trans. by Eden Paul and Cedar Paul (New York: Dover Publications, Inc., 1959); and Maurice Duverger, Political Parties, trans. by Barbara North and Robert North (2d ed.; New York: John Wiley and Sons, Inc., 1959). "There is a strong case, in other words, that the major theoretical contributions to the study of political parties have come from that sector of the literature in which a party as an empirically observable organization dom inates the work. If that is so, the moral, and the lesson, are clear" (Sorauf, "Political Parties," p. 36). 15 "The time for announcing a full-blown theory of the political parties, or even of the American political parties, is by no means here. For all of its current the oretical interests, and even its theoretical pretensions, the field of political science is some distance away from identifying the variables and relationships necessary for an intricate and sophisticated theory Of the political system, or indeed for a theory of any part of process with in it" (Sorauf, Party Politica, p. 400). diminishing returns.*® Moreover, they have used theoreti cal elaboration as a means of "transcending" the limits of their knowledge and "of getting more mileage out of less data."17 The lesson is unmistakable: theory is not a sub stitute for research. At some point, scholarly resources would be better invested in the toils of field research than in further analysis of old data or in theorizing to the point that "the law of parsimony becomes more a desper- 18 ate hope than a statement of theoretical efficiency." the current problem in the field of parties is not a defi cit of theory but "a severe shortage of mere descriptive data."19 Even while Sorauf was issuing these criticisms, however, the study of party organizations was moving, if not invariably advancing, on both the theoretical and em pirical fronts. The recent resurgence of interest in or ganizational theory is evidenced, not only by Samuel Elders- veld's valuable contribution, but also by the publication of two major anthologies whose orientation is both organi- 1®Sorauf, "Political Parties," p. 41. 17Ibid. 18Ibid. 9 20 zational and theoretical. There has also been rapid proliferation of studies of party organization at the national, county, and precinct 21 levels in recent years. Most of these works have focused on the characteristics of organizational leaders and activ ists: their backgrounds, recruitment, organizational and campaign activities, role orientations, organizational per ceptions, and ideological perspectives* The accumulation of such data about national party chairmen, committees, and delegates and about personnel at the county and precinct levels has provided a much needed updating of the literal ture on "bosses,1 * machines," and "hacks'* of the 1920's and William J. Crotty, ed.. Approaches to the Study of Party Organization (Bos ton: Allyn and Bacon, Inc., ); and William E. Wright, ed., A Comparative Study of Party Organization (Columbus, Ohio: Charles E. Merrill Publishing Company, 1971). All of the contributions to the volume edited by Crotty are theoretically oriented, but three offer the most explicitly organizational emphases and the broadest theoretical perspectives: Fred W. Riggs, "Comparative Politics and the Study of Political Parties: A Structural Approach," pp. 45-104: Samuel Barnes, "Party Democracy and the Logic of Collective Action," pp. 105-138; and Lee F. Anderson, 'Organizational Theory and the Study of State and Local Parties," pp. 375-403. Wright's own con tribution to his anthology, "Comparative Party Models: Rational-Efficient and Party Democracy," pp. 17-54, is a comprehensive discussion of the theoretical perspectives in the parties literature. Both of these collections contain extensive bibliographies. 21 AEven the more recent studies comprise too volum inous a list to cite here. References to several of these studies are made elsewhere in this dissertation, especially in chap. V, infra, passim. 10 1930*0. The progress manifested by this development of the organizational literature has been limited in two important respects, one methodological, the other substantive. First, with a few exceptions, the methodology of the more recent studies has evidenced an undue conformity to the scholarly "law" of instrument: most of these studies have relied almost exclusively on survey data. Survey methods are useful for examining some aspects of party organization, particularly the personnel characteristics mentioned above. They are not the best means for obtaining information about other important dimensions of the internal operations and external activities of parties as organizations. Addition al methods, including direct observation (participant and non-participant) and examination of party records, are re quired to develop a full picture of activities and intra- organizational relationships in areas such as policy artic ulation, candidate recruitment and endorsement, and fi* nance. Secondly, there is a glaring deficiency in substan tive coverage. With one execption, there are no comprehen sive treatments of state party organizations. dome information about state organizations is available in the brief descriptions presented in general 11 2 2 treatments of state and regional politics. There is also a handful of papers, articles, and monographs dealing with 21 selected aspects of state organization. But only one 22 See, for example, Leon D. Epstein, Politics in Wisconsin (Madison: University of Wisconsin £ress, 1958); John H. Fenton, Politics in the Border States— Maryland, West Virginia, Kentucky and Missouri (New Orleans; Hauser Press, 1957); John H. Fenton, Midwest Politics (New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, Inc. , 1966) ; frank H. Jonas, ed., Politics in the American West (Salt Lake City: Uni versity of Utah Press, 1969); V. 6. Key, Jr., Southern Pol itics in State and Nation, Vintage Books (New York: Random House, Inc., and Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1949); Duane Lock- ard, Hew England State Politics (Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, ,1959); G. Theodore Mitau, Poli tics in Minnesota (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, I960); Daniel M. Ogden, Jr., and Hugh A. Bone, Wash ington Politics (New York: New York University Press, 1960); Austin Ranney, Illinois Politics (New York: New York University Press, 1&46); Ralph A. Straetz and Frank J. Munger, New York Politics (New York: New York University Press, l!j>f>0j. for a comparison of some of the findings about state party systems, see Austin Ranney, "Parties in State Politics," in Politics in the American States: A Comparative Analysis, ed. by Werbert Jacob and Kenneth N. Vines (2d ed.; Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1971), pp. 82-121. ^See, for example, Ray C. Bliss, "The Role of the State Chairman," in Politics, U.S.A., ed. by James M. Cannon (Garden City, New York: Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1960), pp. 159-170; David K. Hart, "The State Central Com mittee: Can Dr. Parkinson Cure His Largest Patient?" Reason, 2 (October-November, 1966), pp. 17-19; Bancroft C. Henderson, "The Comparative Role of the State Chairman and the National Committeeman," in Determinants of Formal and Informal Structures in State Political Parties, ed. by John M. Claunch (Dallas; Arnold Foundation, Southern Methodist University, 1959), pp. 3-13; Daniel M. Ogden, Jr., "Trends in Democratic State Party Organizations" (paper presented at the 57th annual meeting of the American Political Science Association, St. Louis, Mo., September 6-9, 1961); William B. Prendergast, (paper presented at the 57th annual meeting of the American Political Science Association, St. Louis, Mo., September 6-9, 1961); John S. Saloma, III, and 12 work , Robert Sawyer’a study of the Democratic state central committee in Michigan, offers a comprehensive account, based upon a variety of data, of a formal state organiza- 24 tion. In view of the pervasiveness of state central com mittees as units of organization in the American party sys tem, the uniqueness of Sawyer's subject matter represents a perplexing and embarrassing void in the literature of Amer ican parties. Purpose and Scope of Inquiry The foregoing discussion points to the purpose of this dissertation on the formal organization of the Demo cratic party at the state level in California. This is a Frederick H. Sontag, "Developments in American Party Struc ture! Recent Trends and Consequences for the 1970's" (paper presented at the 66th annual meeting of the American Political Science Association, Los Angeles, Calif., Septem ber 8-12, 1970); Charles E. Schutz, "Bureaucratic Party Organization Through Professional Political Staffing," Mid west Journal of Political Science, 8 (May, 1964), pp. li)- 142; Neil Stabler and Houglas Ross, "The Management of State Political Parties," in Practical Politics in the United States, ed. by Cornelius P. cotter (Boston: KTlyn and Bacon, Inc., 1969), pp. 45-69; Charles W. Higgens and William L. Turk, "State Party Chairmen: A Profile," West ern Political Quarterly. 23 (June, 1970), pp. 321-332. 2*Robert Lee Sawyer , Jr., Cfte Democratic State Central Committee in Michigan. 1949-1959: The Rise of the New Politics anatnedew Political Leadership (Ann Arbor: Institute of Public Allministration, University of Michigan, 1960). 13 descriptive case study which is designed to supply basic, factual information about the structure, internal processes, and collective activities of an official state organization and, thereby, to help fill one of the most conspicuous gaps in the literature of American politics. In this study, state organization is conceptualized, not as an illusive phantom which materializes for two days every two years to perform its empty ritual in the capitol chambers, but as a palpable structure or network of human relationships which carries on some purposeful activities, both at its biennial meetings and at other times throughout the year. The purpose of this report is to describe these activities and, wherever possible, to explain or interpret them in terms of the structure of the situation within which they occur, antecedent events, the intentions and interests of the actors, or whatever other explanatory or interpretive formulae are appropriate to a given phenomenon and are permitted by the available evidence. The absence of information about state organiza tions, other them the one Sawyer described in Michigan, necessarily limits this work to a primarily descriptive 25 mission. It is recognized, however, that "descriptions ^The value of description should not be under rated. As Maurice Duverger points out: "The charge often made that studies in the social sciences are restricted to description without attempting explanation is very often 14 may themselves be explanatory— the 'how* may give us a 'why* and not a just a 'what.'"^ The limited nature of the evidence and the illusive and metamorphic nature of the phenomenon mean that most of the explanations offered are highly speculative and that all of the conclusions drawn are tentative. The aim has been to answer the deceptively simple questions of what the formal organs of the Demo cratic party do and how they do it. It is hoped that at least some of the answers will suggest hypotheses which will aid other researchers in the study of party organiza tion. The research design for this study did not encom pass an examination of the Democratic party as a whole. The focus of inquiry was state statutory organs. The scope unjustified. These works are descriptive because they can not be anything else. Documentation is still too scarce to make valid attempts at explanation" (Maurice Duverger, An Introduction to the Social Sciences, trans. by Malcolm Anderson [New York; Frederick A. Praeger, Publishers, 1964], p. 226). 2fi Abraham Kaplan, The Conduct of Inquiry; Method ology for Behavioral Science (San Francisco: Cnandler Publishing company, 1^4), p. 329. Kaplan contends that it is useful to maintain a distinction between description and explanation "to counter the illusion...that describing the same thing all over again, but in other terms, provides an explanation of it" (pp. 329-330). But he does not take the distinction very seriouslyi "An explanation may be said to be a concatentated description. It does its work...by put ting one fact or law into relation with others,..we see why something happens when we see better— in more detail, or in broader perspective— just what does happen" (p. 329). 15 of the study includes, therefore, the state convention; the state central committee and its auxiliaries; congressional co-chairmen, insofar as they function as part of the state organization; and state committee officers* The study also deals with party leaders, such as public officials, who are not officers of the state organization but do participate in decision-making by, for, and about the state organiza tion. Since excessive legal regulation is so often blamed for the weaknesses of party structures in California, this study also includes a discussion of the laws governing the form and functions of State organization. The time frame for the events described in this study is, roughly, the period from 1954 through 1966. These temporal boundaries, however, are not strictly ob served. They are breached when a given subject requires illumination by reference to events that occurred (or to evidence that was gathered) either before or after this period. The years from 1954 through 1966 are emphasized because they constituted a distinctive and coherent phase in the life of the Democratic party in California. Nine teen fifty-four marked the full emergence of a cohesive and stable state central committee leadership corps in northern t California and the beginning of a sharp upswing in Demo cratic electoral fortunes, evidenced first in legislative 16 races. The year, 1966, marked the end of Democratic domin ation of state constitutional offices, a significant Demo cratic decline in state legislative offices, and a turnover of state committee leadership, both north and south of the Tehachapis. Data Sources and Methods of Investigation The data for this study were gathered over a rela tively long period of about eight years, during which the author was a devoted, but occasionally irregular, camp fol lower of the Democratic state central committee. The gene sis of the study was a research project, which was assigned to the author in 1960, under the Falk Foundation program at the University of California at Berkeley. The late Professor Peter Odegard reviewed the ori ginal manuscript, offered some suggestions for further re search, and made some remarks, which, not only gave the author encouragement to undertake a fuller examination of the subject, but also pointed to the need for this type of study: May I begin by congratulating you on what I believe to be an excellent account of a much ne glected subject. It is a paradox of American political science that, in spite of our preoccu pation with organization, there are no good studies of party organization comparable to, let us say, MacKenzie's book on the British 17 party system. Your monograph on the Democratic party in California, together with the excellent monograph on the Michigan committee, will help to fill this gap....27 Notwithstanding Professor Odegard’s generous com ments, the original study had many deficiencies. For this reason, the author undertook an extended and more intensive investigation of the Democratic state organisation, the re sults of which are reported in this dissertation. The quest for information about this organization was complicated by the regional bifurcation of the state central committee. There are, in fact, two, virtually autonomous, committees, one in northern California, the other in southern California. This state of affairs creates several problems for the investigator. One of the more serious is that a de scription of organizational activities and relationships in one section cannot be assumed to apply to the other sec tion. What one "sees" of the state committee depends on where he is standing, in terms of both.geographical loca tion and time. Another serious difficulty is created by the enmity that has prevailed between the two sections. Achieving rapport with party leaders in one region may mean losing it’ 27 Letter from Peter Odegard to Faith Windsor, June 17, 1964. 18 in the other region. This problem was only partly circum navigated by the fact that the research for this study was conducted at different times, while the author was residing in different sections of the state and was conducting in quiries under regionally appropriate political and academic sponsorship. The bifurcation of the research situation, however, created some temporal 4isjunctions in the data because one investigator cannot be, either physically or politically, in two places at the same time. This study encompasses data from a variety of sources, in addition to published and unpublished scholarly works. One major source was documentary evidence in the form of minutes, financial statements, reports, memoranda, press releases, party publications, and other materials. Most of these materials were collected from the files of the northern section in the period from 1960 through 1963 and from those in the southern section from 1964 through 1966.28 There was some overlap between these collection periods. Party documents do not provide a complete or reli able record of organizational activities. Files often dis appear when control of a section passes from one faction to another. Records are not kept on many matters, and those which do exist are often incomplete or unavailable. Pru dent editing takes a toll of evidence in official minutes. Reports on organizational activities often inflate efforts and accomplishments. In spite of these defects, party doc uments constituted an invaluable resource for this study. 19 A second major source of evidence for this study consisted of magazine and newspaper articles. Wherever journalistic accounts of party affairs have been used— as independent sources of information, as supplements to docu mentary evidence, or as checks on the accuracy of the author's perceptions of events— they have been cited in the footnotes.2® A third major source of information consisted of informal conversations and formal interviews with party leaders, staff members, and political activists. Host of the formal interviews were conducted in the period between 31 1961 and 1963. Three important interviews— those with Jesse Unruh, Carmen Warshaw, and Edmund G. Brown— were con ducted in 1970 and 1971. 29 Most of these materials came from the southern section*s voluminous collection, which had been compiled by Allen's Press Clipping Service. This service provides in formation only about the source of an article and the date of publication. Consequently, the footnote citations of newspaper articles do not include page numbers. ^®The lessons learned through informal conversa tions with political friends and acquaintances eannot be credited by footnote citations. They have shaped the frame of reference within which the author approaches any politi cal subject, however, and, consequently, are reflected in this study. 31ln most cases, those interviewed permitted theie remarks to be attributed them by name. Some interviewees, however, asked that a portion of their remarks not be quoted or, if quoted, not be attributed to them. In all matters involving the attribution of remarks, the author has tried to comply with the wishes of the interviewees. 20 A fourth source of information consisted of person al observation and participation. The author attended party meetings, workshops, and other functions from 1961 through 1968. The author also held an internship, sponsor ed by the national Center for Education in Politics, on the staff of the southern section from September, 1965, through August 1966. The fifth major source of data was a survey of the co-chairmen of congressional district delegations to the state committee. There were two sets of reasons for sur veying the co-chairmen rather than the state committee mem bership as a whole. One was methodological. Limited re sources and a geographically dispersed population meant that the survey would have to be conducted by means of a mailed questionnaire. Because of the heterogeneity of the state committee membership, a mailed questionnaire was not likely to obtain data of acceptable quality about the sub- 22 jects of concern to this study. — ------------------------ The membership of the committee includes public officeholders, non-incumbent nominees, and their appointees, who include more or less active members of unofficial party groups, officers and members of county committees, individ uals whose party involvement is primarily or solely a matter of financial contributions, representatives of labor unions and other interest groups, and, according to those familiar with the mommittee, a substantial proportion of people who may be appointed because they have been active in one or more campaigns but who have little experience in and know ledge about organizational affairs. Given such a diverse population, an excessively large number and variety of questions would have to be 21 The other set of reasons arose out of substantive considerations of the nature and role of the state commit tee as a collective entity. The state committee has a col lective existence of one day every two years. Except for that day the committee does not, for the most part, func tion through its members, nor do its members control what the committee does. This is not to say that the membership of the committee is an inconsequential subject. But, if one wishes to understand the operation of the committee and its role in California politics, the most important ques tion to ask about the members is not who they are but how they are selected. The functions of the committee are greatly influ enced by many external factors, including the laws that govern the selection of members. Within the limits of such external factors, the main internal variables that affect the kinds of things that the committee does and the way it included to make a questionnaire relevant to people with different organizational and other pertinent frames of fef- erence. Excessive length and variety depress both the rate of return and the quality of responses. Moreover, the more heterogeneous the population, the more likely it is that even the most carefully worded items will be interpreted in a greater variety of ways. The result is likely to be such a randomization of responses that analysis becomes impos sible. In addition, given the marginal involvement of many appointees in party affairs, the unrepresentative bias im plicit in the low response rates of mailed questionnaires was likely to be greatly increased in sampling the state committee. 22 does them are the leadership roles adopted by the chairmen, the chairmen's relationships with other peaty leaders, and the availability of financial resources. In terms of the day-to-day operation of the committee, the chairmen (and their staffs) are the state committee for most purposes. The activities of the chairmen are subject to con trols emanating from political sources external to the - state organization. Two of the most important are big financial contributors and the party's public officehold ers. The main source of collective decision-making and control within the structure of the state organization is far more often the executive committee than the state com mittee as a whole. Given this situation, it is not sur prising that those most familiar with the state committee suggested to the investigator that information about the characteristics and activities of the state committee mem bership would contribute little to an understanding of the Democratic state organization. There were good reasons, however, for surveying the congressional district co-chairman. One is that they comprise the largest element in the membership of the exec utive committee, which meets far more often than the state committee and is more important as a decision-making body. (The second largest element consists of the fifty-eight county chairmen, who have been examined recently in David 23 Hart's excellent study.)33 A second reason is that the co-chairmen occupy a potentially important linkage position within the structure of the state organization. As noted above, they sit on the executive committee. They are elected by all of the state committee members in their respective districts. They are charged, in the "By-laws," with the duties of carrying out "the policies and programs" of the state committee, con ducting party campaigns, and cooperating with “duly recog nized" party organisations in their respective districts. The congressional district co-chairman is the only built-in medium in the state party structure through which the leadership may act to implement and coordinate programs at the local level.35 A third reason is that, except for Creasap's brief account of their existence, congressional co-chairmen have 36 been ignored in the literature on California politics. 33Hart, op. cit., passim. 3*"By-laws" (1965), sec. 17. 35 ‘ 'Interview with Carmen Warshaw, August 31, 1970. 35Cresap, op. cit.. pp. 50-51. Cresap's discussion was apparently not basedon a systematic survey of the pri mary sources (the congressional co-chairmen) but on inter views with secondary sources, such as state chairmen, coun ty chairmen, plus a few congressional co-chairmen (pp. vii- viii). While the perceptions that the secondary sources held of the co-chairmen constituted important information, their validity as descriptive generalizations was open to 24 No one, including Cresap, has ever surveyed this stratum of political "middlemen" to find out who they are mad what they do.*^ A fourth reason is that congressional co-chairmen, because they are elected by their respective state commit tee delegations to sit on the executive committee, are likely to be among the most experienced and active state committee members in their districts. Consequently, they would be most likely to be able to respond intelligibly to questions about the activities of their district delegai- tions and those of the state committee leaders and to pro vide other information important to this study. For all of these reasons, a decision was made to survey the con gressional district co-chairmen rather than the state com mittee membership as a whole. question. Moreover, since Cresap's work was published, there have been changes concerning the co-chairmen in the Elections Code and in the state committee's "By-laws." 37The term, "middlemen," is borrowed from Dwaine Marvick, "The Middlemen of Politics," in Crotty, op. cit., pp. 341-374. ---- 38 This is an assumption based upon personal obser vation and conversations with political leaders. A test of this assumption is one instance in which information about all of the members of the state committee would have been useful. 25 Design and Administration of the Survey The survey which was administered to the Democratic congressional district co-chairmen had two broad purposes. One was to elicit information about the co-chairmen: their socioeconomic characteristics, political activities and ex periences, affiliations with other party organizations, career patterns, role orientations, and organizational per ceptions. The second major purpose was to obtain information from the co-chairmen about the state organization. In this respect, the co-chairmen were to serve as secondary sources of information about the state organization: the activi ties of district delegations, patterns of interaction with in the state committee and between the state committee and other party organizations, and the expected functions and actual activities of the state committee and its leaders. The design and administration of a survey to serve these purposes posed a number of questions and problems. One set of problems involved the selection of the sample or, more precisely, the timing of the sampling. Since the putative cut-off date for this study was in 1966, it would have been desirable to sample incumbents of congressional co-chairmanships before or during that year. The decision to conduct this survey, however, was not finally made until 26 1970.3^ For personal and occupational reasons, the survey was further delayed until 1971. It is possible that, in the years between 1966 and 1971, co-chairmen changed in ways that would affect re sponses to the questions asked in the survey. Although there was no modification of the rules governing their selection, many other environmental variables may have af- 40 fected the characteristics measured in the survey. In the absence of prior studies of this particular stratum of party officeholders, there is no reason to be lieve that the co-chairmen sampled in 1971 differed marked ly from their predecessors in 1966. Whenever a given popu lation is sampled, however, the results are automatically subject to an important limitation: they must be construed as being applicable only to that population at a given 39a major reason for the delay was the author's awareness of a project being planned at U. C. L. A. to survey all members of formal party organizations in 1968. Because there was a great deal of overlap between the sub jects covered by the U. C. L. A. survey and the one contem plated for this study, the author hoped to gain access to the 1968 data. The data most relevant to this study, how ever, were still being coded as of 1971 and were unavail able to the author {letter from Dwaine Marvick [Director of the U. C. L. A. project] to Faith Windsor, July 11, 1971). *®Such factors might include, for example, reappor- tionment; the decline of the CDC as a political force; and changes in the demographic characteristics of the popula tion as a whole, in political culture, and in the political saliency of various subgroups, such as ethnic and racial minorities. 27 41 point in time. A second question was automatically answered by the size of the population. Because there were only seventy- six co-chairmen, it was obviously necessary to survey the entire population rather than some "representative" portion of it. A third question involved the selection of a re search survey instrument and procedure. Personal inter views were precluded by limited resources and a population which is dispersed over a large geographical area. These factors dictated the use of a mailed questionnaire to be sent to each co-chairman. The decision to conduct the survey by mail imposed some important limitations on the design of the question naire and on the amount and types of data that could be ob tained.42 One is a combined limitation of brevity and 41 'Only repeated measurements of the same variables in a given population would provide a firm empirical basis for statements about change and/or stability in the charac teristics of that population. 42 A good standard reference for the use of mailed questionnaires remains Mildred B. Parten, Surveys, Polls, and Samples* Practical Procedures (New YorJT* Harper ana Brothers, Publishers, 195Q), pp. J83-402. Helpful sugges tions may also be found in William J. Crotty, "The Utili zation of Mail Questionnaires and the Problem of a Repre sentative Return Rate," Western Political Quarterly, 19 (March, 1966), pp. 44 —531 and f j l o l Levine and Gerald Gordon, "Maximizing Returns on Mail Questionnaires," Public Opinion Quarterly, 22 (Winter, 1958-1959), pp. 568-5771 Bavid HarT offered many useful ideas in the appendixes to his study ( op. cit., Appendix II, pp. 257-274). 28 variety. Both the length of a questionnaire and the num ber of unrelated subjects covered by it have a negative effect on completion and return rates and on response quality.43 Another set of limitations'is imposed by the fact that the items must be understood and answered by people who differ in characteristics, such as level of education and political experience, which may affect comprehension and response performance. Such factors may lead respon dents to interpret (and to misinterpret) the language of any question in various ways, which may diverge from the intention of the question, be unintelligible to the inves tigator, or be unsatisfactory because of a lack of com pleteness or depth. These problems cannot be ameliorated by the presence of an interviewer,who can provide immedi ate clarification of questions and can encourage the inter viewee to clarify and/or amplify his answers. Because of individual differences among respon dents and the absence of an interviewer, the rate of re sponse for mailed surveys is not as high as that for field interviews. The return rate for a mailed questionnaire depends more heavily on the extent to which subjects are personally motivated to answer the questionnaire. And 43Parten, op. cit., pp. 383-385. 29 motivation is affected by personal characteristics, such as the ability to read and write, which are beyond the direct control or influence of the investigator, who is not present to provide compensating stimuli. Because of the influence of such factors, especially of educational level, those who respond to a mailed questionnaire tend to be unrepresentative of the total survey population. There are factors, however, which the investigator can manipulate in order to reduce the motivational thresh old required to elicit a response. Such factors include clarity in the wording of questions, the amount of effort required to answer each question, the length of the ques tionnaire, the attractiveness of the physical format, the content of letters of transmittal, the designation of re search sponsorship, and the method of mailing. In order to minimize the time and effort required to answer the questionnaire and to reduce the impact of factors affecting the respondents* ability, as well as willingness, to answer, it was decided to ask questions, wherever possible, in a structured form rather than in an 44 unstructured, open-ended form. Questions with fixed **The terms, "structured" and "unstructured," are used rather loosely here. "Structured" refers to questions with fixed response alternatives, "Unstructured" refers to questions which do not provide fixed alternatives. Such questions, however, may be relatively structured in the kind of response called for, as in the case of an item ask- 30 alternatives, to which one may respond by placing a mark in an appropriate space, are easier to answer than those which require the respondent to formulate and write out a response. They also allow the investigator to minimize (but not eliminate) variations in the interpretation of questions and in the formulation of answers which deviate from the purposes of the questions and are too random to categorize and analyze. This is an especially important consideration when an interviewer is not present to clarify questions or to prompt respondents to clarify their an swers. The greatest disadvantage of the structured form is that the respondent must give truncated replies within the limited alternatives supplied by the investigator. This precludes the possibility that respondents will vol unteer information which may be pertinent to the study but has not been anticipated by the investigator. The oppor tunity to obtain such information is one of the great bene fits of unstructured questions. It is necessary or desirable, therefore, to use unstructured questions in certain cases. They have been used in this survey where one or more of the following con ing the respondent to designate his years of residence in a given location. See Charles H. Backstrom and Gerald D. Hursh, Survey Research (Evanston, Illinoist Northwestern University Press, 1^63), pp. 72-76. 31 ditions prevailed: (1) the question had a high priority, and the unstructured form was required to obtain useful information; (2) the question obviously called for only a brief answer, and the unstructured form actually required less effort to answer them a structured item with alterna tives so numerous that they might confuse respondents; (3) the investigator had insufficient knowledge to antici pate responses; (4) it was likely that the question would elicit a wide range of responses. Keeping in mind the purposes of the survey and the limitations of a mailed questionnaire as a research instru ment, the investigator made decisions regarding the number and type and variety of questions to be asked. While it is neither necessary nor desirable to describe the entire pro cess of questionnaire construction, it might be useful to mention a few aspects for the benefit of those who wish to assess the results or to conduct similar research them selves . The first step in the construction of the question naire was an uninhibited compilation of all the questions that seemed relevant to the purposes of the study.This *5This step was preceded, of course, by a perusal of methodological handbooks, studies of party activists and officeholders, and questionnaires used in surveys conducted by personal interview and by mail. The author was espee cially fortunate to have seen David Hart's work, with its useful appendixes ( op. cit., pp. 175-281) and the research 32 initial effort yielded about ninety questions, encompassing a wide range of topics. When these questions were arranged into a rough approximation of a questionnaire, the product was eight, very crowded, legal-sized sheets. In view of the factors affecting return rate, the list had to be drastically pared through deletion of some questions and combination and/or rephrasing of others. Among the criteria applied in this editing process were considerations of pertinancy to the distinctively descrip tive and structural emphasis of this study and the compre hensibility, brevity, and simplicity of the form required to obtain a useful response to a given question. A revised and much reduced (to sixty questions on six legal-sized sheets) version of the original draft was duplicated and, then, pretested by a procedure that proved to be useful but less than ideally rigorous. Pretesting by administration of the instrument to a sample of the pop ulation to be surveyed would have resulted in an unaccept able reduction in the size of an already small population, especially if one also takes into account the relatively low response rate of mailed questionnaires. design and the mailed questionnaire and personal interview schedule for the 1968 U. C. L. A. survey, conducted under the direction of Professor Dwaine Marvick, of all members of formal party organisations in California. Many of the ideas contained in these materials were incorporated in the co-chairman survey. 33 The pretest used in this study was similar to that employed by David Hart, who also faced the problem of sur veying a small population by means of a mailed question naire.^^ It consisted of what may be deemed a "review" of the questionnaire and letter of transmittal by academic colleagues, who were familiar with California politics and with survey research, and by people active in state commit tee affairs, including a few who had previously served as congressional co-chairmen but were not incumbents in 1971. This review process produced many helpful sugges tions about virtually all aspects of the survey, including the letter; the length of the questionnaire, which was unanimously considered to be excessive; the phrasing of questions; the continuity of item sequences; and the phy sical format. With these suggestions in mind, the investi gator plunged into another round of editing, involving fur ther rephrasing and combining of questions and, above all, the shortening of the questionnaire to a manageable package of no more than fifty questions, well spaced, on no more than five 8> i x 11 sheets. One result of these processes of construction, re construction, review, and further reconstruction was that some subjects, which the investigator would have liked to ***Hart, op. cit., pp. 2?l-272. 34 47 explore in greater depth, were touched upon very lightly. Another result was that some subjects had to be excluded entirely.48 Previous studies have emphasized the importance of making a mailed questionnaire as physically presentable as possible in order to maximize the rate of return. The final draft was prepared with close attention to sppcing and to the continuity, readability, and clarity of ques~ tions. After exploring various alternatives, the inves tigator decided to have the questionnaire professionally composed and reproduced by a commercial firm. It was printed, by an offset process, on buff colored paper of good quality. Color was chosen to make the questionnaire more noticeable and to reduce glare, A copy of the qees* tionnaire can be found in the Appendix to this study. Consideration was also given to alternative desig nations of research sponsorship and to using regionally 49 appropriate return addresses. It was finally decided to 47 This was particularly tmie in the case of motiva tional and career patterns and in the case of patterns of interaction with&n the state organization and between the state organization and other party groups. 48 The most important deletions were of questions about the social and political backgrounds of the respon dents, the continuity and regularity of the respondents' political activities, and the respondents' memberships in nonpartisan organizations. 4^Consideration was given to obtaining the endorse ment of the state chairman and his regional counterpart. 35 write the cover letter under the letterhead of the inves tigator's place of employment, San Fernando Valley State 50 College, and to use the college as the return address. The oover letter explained the purpose and importance of the study and stressed the confidentiality of the replies. A copy of this letter is contained in the Appendix. The questionnaire, cover letter, and a stamped, self-addressed envelope were enclosed in a large manila envelope and mailed on July 23, 1971. Certified delivery was used in order to call attention to this particular piece of mail.. The return rate was 38 percent. A second wave was sent, on August 10th, to all those who had not responded to the first mailing. The second mailing was identical to the first, with two excep tions. One exception was a new letter of transmittal. The other was that this wave was sent first class, on the hunch Although some mailed surveys, with high return rates, have used such sponsorship, the investigator's political experi ences suggested that politicians in California are even more suspicious of each other than they are of academic* ians. Any indication of political sponsorship might have led some respondents to be skeptical about the promise of confidentially. Given the regional enmity that prevails within the California Democratic party, some thought was also given to using a special letterhead and northern return address for those questionnaires sent to northern co-chairmen. While the idea was discarded, the differential between the return rates from northern and southern California indicated that the premise on which the idea was based was probably cor rect. **®The name of this institution was changed, in 1972 to California State University, Northridge. 36 that some people may not have responded to the initial mailing because of paranoiac reluctance to sign for certified delivery. The second wave brought the overall return rate to 63.2 percent. As expected, the return rate from eeuthern California (65.9 percent) was higher than that from northern California (59.4 percent). One compensation for the loss of these who did not respond was that some of those who did enclose notes or letters expressing approval of the project and gratitude for the display of academic attention. This reaction was both surprising and gratifying to the investigator, who had been advised, and had anticipated, that party officials would have received so many questionnaires that they would have developed an inclination to file them in the waste basket. CHAPTER XI A BRIEF HISTORY OF LEGAL REGULATION OF STATE PARTY ORGANIZATION IN CALIFORNIA California attempts to regulate the form and func tion of political parties in minute and cumbersome detail. Excessive regulation frequently hhs been cited as the main factor in reducing state organization to what students of California politics variously describe as "ineffectual,* "impotent," and "lifeless." This was the first state to enact I a w s affecting party organization! and perhaps no state has gone as far in regulating them. A brief histor ical review of this regulation may help give some perspec tive to the current status of party organization in Calif ornia,1 The Law Before Progressive Reform "An Act to Protect the Elections of Voluntary 1The account of legal regulation prior to 1954 re lies heavily on Dean R. Cresap, Party Politics in the Gol din State (Los Angeles: Haynes Foundation, 1953), pp. 7- 171 and on Richard Israel, "An Analysis of California State Democratic Party Organisation: The State Central Corned.t- tee" (unpublished M.A. thesis, Department of Political Sci ence, University of California, Berkeley, 1953), pp. 30-54. 37 38 2 Political Associations, and to Punish Frauds Thereon," passed in 1866, was the first law relating to party organ ization. It was designed to eliminate the "snap primary" whereby a handful of pprty members couid meet secretly to nominate candidates for public office or to act otherwise in the name of their party. The act was permissive rather than mandatory. It provided that any political associi- tion which wished to hold elections under its provisions, in order to select a "managing committee" or delegates to a convention, must give full public notice of the election. It further provided that an election "supervisor" be ap pointed to qualify voters, man the polls, count the votes, and announce the results. 3 Another permissive law was enacted in the 1872-1873 session of the legislature. It provided that any commit tee of a voluntary association, which was authorized to call elections for any purpose, could choose, by resolution, to have the election conducted in accordance with rules prescribed in the Political Code.* These rules pertained 2 California Statutes and Amendments to the Codes (1865-1866), ch. 359 (published at the ena or eacn session of the legislature, hereinafter cited as Cal. Stats.). 3 Ibid. *Cal. Stats. (1873-1874), ch. 79, cited in Israel, op.cit., pp. 31-32 39 to voter eligibility, election boards, poll lists, ballots, voting hours, voter challenges, canvassing the vote. The legislature did not return to the subject of party regula- 5 tion for almost twenty years. Although neither the law of 1865-1866 nor of 1873- 1874 contained any mention of a state central committee, this institution was well established in California. The major parties developed statewide organizations soon after California entered the union.® Winfield Davis reported that the Democrats held their first state convention in 1851 and had apparently established a state central commit tee by 1853.^ Thereafter, virtually every year, Davis re corded a meeting of at least one political party and the appointment of a state central committee, usually consist- g ing of from ten to twenty men* State committees issued convention calls which 5 A law was passed earlier to eliminate the ingeni ous "tapeworm” ballot, which made it impossible to vote other than a straight ticket. It required that parties print their ballots on paper supplied by the state.1 This paper was to be uniform in color, texture, weight, and size (Cresap, op. cit., pp. 8-9). 6Ibid. 7Winfield J. Davis, History of Political Conven- tions in California, 1849-1892 (Sacramentoi California State Library, 1893), pp. 11, 24. g Ibid., et passim. 40 specified the number of delegatee to which each county wae entitled. County committees were instructed to hold pri mary elections for the selection of delegates to county conventions, which, in turn, were to choose the delegates to state and congressional district conventions.9 Local organizations apparently followed diverse practices. In some counties, conventions met to adopt a platform, select delegates to state and district conven tions, and nominate candidates for legislative and county offices. In other counties, separate conventions were held for the nomination of candidates and the selection of dele gates. In some parts of the state, city-level conventions were the rule. Some Republican organizations also experi mented with the use of the direct primary for the nomina tion of candidates.1^ The state conventions met at the appointed time to elect officers, adopt a platform, and nominate a slate of candidates for the general election. They also chose the members of the state central committee.11 In the Australian Ballot Law of 1891, the legisla- 9Cresap, op. cit., p. 7. 10Ibid., p. 8, citing Davis, op. cit., p. 292, et passim. xlIbid. 41 ture again dealt with party structure, this time as a mat ter of definition. In order to place the names of its candidates on the ballot, a party had to meet certain nu merical qualifications. A legally qualified party was an organization which polled at least three percent of the vote in the last preceding election in the area for which the nomination was made.12 Under the present law, a party is qualified to participate in a primary election if, at the last previous gubernatorial election, any one of its candidates for statewide office received at least two per cent of the entire vote, or at least six percent, if the candidate was the joint nominee of any other party. A par ty may also be recognized on a petition signed by voters equal in number to at least ten percent of the entire vote in the state, or if it has a registration equal in number 1 to at least one percent of the entire vote. J In addition, the Act of 1891 recognized the nominating convention as "an organized assemblage of delegates representing a political party-"1* 12Cal. Stats. (1891), ch. 130. 13Electlon Laws of the State of California (San Franciscoi A. Carlisle & Col, 1964), sec. 6430 Therein after cited as Elections Code). 14Cal. Stats. (1891), ch. 130. 42 Four years later, the legislature passed the first in a series of laws designed to regulate the method of selecting convention delegates. It enacted a primary elec tion law to prescribe the method of delegate selection in San Francisco County and Los Angeles C o u n t y .^ A similar law was passed in 1897 to extend the primary election re quirement to the rest of the state. The 1897 Act also provided that state central com mittees determine the apportionment of delegates to state and district conventions. County central committees were to apportion delegates to county conventions. In addition, the law regulated at least one aspect of the convention by providing that no person could hold more than one proxy at any convention.17 The State Supreme Court Struck down both laws. The 1895 Act was invalidated as "special legislation," which violated the state constitutional requirement that general laws be uniform in operation.The 1897 law fell because only registered party members could vote in their party's 15Cal. Stats. (1895), ch. 171. 16Cal. Stats. (1897), ch. 106. 17Ibid. 10Marsh v. Hanley, 43 Pac. 975 (1896), cited in Cresap, op. cit., p. 10. 43 primary. The party teat was ruled an unconstitutional qualification for voting.19 In 1899, the legislature again tried to regulate delegate selection by providing for an open primary.20 This law, ruled the court, was Man unwarranted invasion of the rights of political parties."21 Since both the closed primary and the open primary were ruled unconstitutional, it became apparent that only a constitutional change would permit the state to regulate the selection of convention delegates. In 1900, the con stitution was amended to empower the legislature to pass primary laws, to impose a party test, and to define parties 22 according to a percentage of the total vote. A primary election law was passed in the following year.2^ The Act of 1901 established a legal structure for party organization in California. Conventions were re quired for all cities of over 7,500 population and for all counties. The law also provided for state and district 19Spier v Baker, 52 Pac. 659 (1898), cited in Cresap, loc. cit. 2QCal. Stats. (1899), ch. 46. 21Britton v. Board of Election, 61 Pac. 1115 (1900), cited in Cresap, loc. cit. 22Cal. Const., art. II, sec. 2 1/2. 23Cal. Stats. (1901), ch. 198. 44 conventions.2 4 Parties were permitted to determine the size of their conventions and whether delegates would be allowed to serve at more than one convention. A delegate could not 25 serve in the conventions of more than one party. The law of 1901 established a comprehensive system of primary elections for delegates to conventions nominat ing candidates for the various city, county, congression al, and state offices. This system of nominating conven tions, however, was to be short-lived. It was obliterated inil909, vl.en the direct primary was established in the paroxysm of progressive reform. In the period from 1866 to 1909, political parties ware increasingly brought under state regulation. After the passage of the California State Constitution in 1879, there were frequent efforts toward state control of the election system and of the role of parties in that system. Laws were passed establishing criteria for delegate selec tion, acknowledging party organization, and regulating the procedures of the convention system. These efforts, how ever, left party organization intact and preserved its functional integrity. Six years later, after progressive 24Ibid. 25Ibid. 45 reform had worked its magic, party organisation was reduced to a shambles. Progressive Reform The progressive revolt against the pervasive cor ruption of California's political life was reaching a full head of steam by 1909. The stench that rose from the pub lic trials of the Ruef-Schmitz graft scandals in San Fran cisco offended the increasingly sensitive nostrils of the public.The Southern Pacific, however, retained its cor rupting influence on parties at the state level through the energetic machinations of its political agent, William Herrin.^ One way to crush Herrin's influence in the nom inating processes of both parties was the direct primary. In 1908, the voters of California approved a con stitutional amendment authorizing a mandatory direct pri mary, and the legislature enacted a direct primary law the following year.The Act of 1909 ended the nominating 2®See Walton Bean, Boss Rued's Syi Francisco (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1952). 27 George E. Mowry, The California Progressives (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1951), p. 349. 2fi Cal. Const, art. II, sec. 2 1/2: Cal. Stats. (1909), ch. 405. 46 convention system. Although amended many times, it still standi as the basic law governing party structure. It pro vided that the state central committee of each political party be composed of "not less than three members" from each congressional district, to be elected by the party's nominees convened in state convention. The law, for the first time, recognized the need for a smaller "executive committee" to carry on the operation of the party: Each such committee may select an executive com mittee and shall choose its officers by ballot, and each committee and its officers shall have the powers usually exercised by such committees and the officers thereof insofar as may be con sistent with this act.29 Although the Act of 1909 deprived the convention of the power to nominate candidates, it did not destroy the continuity of party organization. Voters in the primaries elected delegates to city and county conventions, which, in turn, selected delegates to the state convention. The con vention could still draft a program and draw up a slate of candidates. However, their choices had to win the approval of party members in the primaries. 29Cal. Stats. (1909), ch. 405 47 Progressiva Reform in Earnest The first direct primary law made few changes in party structure. In 1910, however, the Progressives gained control of state government and, in the 1911 legislative session, under the leadership of Governor Hiram Johnson, they earnestly began dismantling party organization. The 1911 amendments to the direct primary law authorized the presidential primary election and the direct election of United States senators, made straight-ticket voting more difficult by removing the party circle from the ballot, and began the fragmentation of party structure by destroying the continuity of representation from local party groups to the state organization.30 Control of parties at the state level was vested in legislative officeholders. Under the law of 1911, the membership of the state convention consis ted of candidates for office, nominated in the primaries, and state senators, whose term did not expire for another two years.31 The Act of 1911 left county conventions intact. This apparent oversight was remedied by the amendments of 1913, which made all county and municipal officers nonpar- 30Cal. Stats. (1911) , ch. 398 31lbid. 48 tisan and abolished county conventions.32 Local conven tions were replaced with county central committees elected in the primaries. Thus, the relationship between the state organization and local party groups was effectively sever ed. Local groups were no longer an integral part of the state party structure; party organization at the state level was denied any base in local politics. The conven tion would henceforth be composed of: State officers, if any, except judicial and school officers, and such candidates for senate and assembly as have been nominated...together with one delegate chosen...from each senatorial district represented by a holdover senator...33 The state central committee was given power to make appointments to fill state convention vacancies caused by the failure of a party to nominate a candidate for a state or legislative office. This provision was made necessary by another feature of the 1913 amendments: candidates were allowed to file for nomination in the primaries of other parties in addition to their own. The institution of cross-filing allowed the Progressives to create their own party and nominate their own candidates, while continuing 32Cal. Stats. (1913), ch. 690. 33Ibid. 34Ibid. 49 to capture the nominations of the Republican p a r t y .^5 The defeat of Bull Moose ticket of Theodore Roose velt and Hiram Johnson in the presidential election of 1912 widened the split between the progressive and conservative wings of the California Republican party. In 1913, the Progressives bolted and formed an independent organization. The experiment lasted a year. Although Hiram Johnson won reelection as governor in 1914, the progressive movement was losing momentum. Few Republican voters changed their registration, and many Progressive-Republican incumbents were reluctant to commit their fortunes to the new party. Faced with a resurgence of conservative opposition and the persistence of Republican loyalti#* , Hiram John son's progressive followers apparently decided that crip pling the regular party organizations was not sufficient to insure the survival of their cause. Having created "the most powerful political organization the state has ever 36 seen," the Progressives attempted to expunge the last vestiges of partisan politics at the state level. Assembly Bill 715, introduced in 1915, proposed to make all state 35 See Leonard Rowe, Preprlmarv Endorsements in California (Berkeley: Bureau of Public Administration, University of California, 1961), pp. 22-23. 3®Cresap, op. cit., p. 14. 50 37 offices non-partisan. Since the state convention and the state central committee had their membership base in state offices, the bill necessitated a complete overhaul of state party ma chinery. The state central committee was to be abolished and replaced by a "congressional party committee." The latter would be composed of members "elected, or otherwise chosen from each assembly district of the state," who would meet for the purpose of "promulgating party platforms as to national issues, and of transacting such other business as selection of officers and delegation of powers to an execu tive committee so long as the platform did not touch upon state problems."^8 The bill prescribed the procedure whereby members of the committee would be selected: The candidates of each political party who have received their party nomination for representa tive in Congress...and for United States Senator, if any, shall meet in separate party conferences at the State Capitol on the second Saturday in September after the date on which any August pri mary election is held... The members of each of these conferences shall proceed to name a congres sional party committeeman for their party 66r each Assembly district of the state which did not 37 'Cal., Legislature, Journal of the Assembly, January 25, 1915. 38 Sacramento Bee, February 20, 1915, cited in Israel, op. cit., p. 45T and Cal., Journal of the Assembly, Harch 24, 1915. 51 elect such party committeemen at the primary election.. Members of this conference were to be "ex-officio members of the congressional party committee of their party."40 This effort to abolish parties altogether was de feated at the polls by rebellious voters, paradoxically using the Progressives' own instrument for reform, the re ferendum. 41 The End of Progressive Reform The year, 1915, marked the peak of the Progress sives' efforts to obliterate partisanship and political parties. In the years that followed, the election laws were often amended to deal with problems created by over sights and other defects in the laws of 1911 and 1913. In the special session of 1916, for example, the legislature added nominees for congressional offices and their appoin- tees to the membership of the state central committee. 39Cal. Stats. (1915), ch. 135. *°Ibld. For details of the debate, see Israel, op. cit., pp. 42-43. 41Cal., Secretary of State, Statement of Vote of California. Special Election, October 26, 19l£. The pro posal was defeated by a vote of 112, 681 to 156, 967. 43Cal. Stats. (1916), ch. 1. 52 Cross-filing and a disqualification clause added in 191743 created a serious problem in the 1918 gubernatorial primary. To the chagrin of the Democratic party, Demo cratic voters nominated Republican Mayor James Rolph, Jr. of San Francisco, who failed to win his own party's nomi nation and, under the law, was disqualified from accepting that of the Democrats, Lacking legal authorization to fill the vacancy by appointment, the Democrats had no candidate for governor in the 1918 general election. The 1919 legis lature empowered the state central committee to appoint a candidate whenever the party's primary was won by someone who failed to win his own primary. The state central com mittee was to make such appointments for state and district offices, the county central committees for legislative of fices within one county. The 1919 law contained other provisions pertaining to party organization. One authorized the creation of a "congressional committee" in each congressional district. These committees were to be composed of from fifteen to thirty-five members, who, "subject to the supervision" of the state central committee, were to "have charge and con- 43Cal. Stats. (1917), ch. 711. 44 Cal. Stats. (1919), ch. 36. 43Cal. Stats. (1919), ch. 35. 53 duct of the campaign of the congreasional nominee."46 The executive committee of the state central committee, in con junction with the congressional nominee in the district concerned, was to select the members of these congressional campaign committees.47 Another provision stipulated an additional criter ion for eligibility for party committee membership. Only those "registered as affiliated" with the political party JO could serve on its committees. This statute barred suc cessful cross-filers from joining a committee of the party with which they were not affiliated. A third provision gave the chairman of the state central committee the power to fill all vacancies caused by: the appointment or election to any party commit tee of an ineligible person, or whenever any mem ber of any such committee dies, resigns, or re moves from the jurisdiction of the committee, or ceases to be a member of such committee's party.*9 The Law of 1929 The year, 1929, brought the further extension of 46Ibid. 47Ibid. 48Ibid. 49Ibid. 54 statutory regulation to almost every aspect of party organ isation. As a result of bitter fighting in the Republican party, Senator Inman, Republican floor leader, introduced Senate Bill 43, which, according to the Sacramento Bee, contemplated "a complete overturning" of the system whereby the state convention chose the members of the state central committee.50 The immediate impetus for the bill arose in the battle over the state chairmanship, which ensued when the Republican state convention met in October, 1928. Accord ing to Senator Inman, however, the real problem lay in the method of selecting the state central committee. Senator Inman complained that the convention had produced a state central committee unknown to all those delegates who were supposed to make the selection, "except the committee on State Committee and a handful1 of politicians interested 51 enough to attend the meeting of that committee." Inman contended that the convention delegates, by allowing the state chairman to appoint 100 members to the state central committee, in addition to the three appointed by each dele gate, had "vested in one man" complete control. This gave EA vSacramento Bee, January 9, 1929. For the com plete story, see Israel, op. cit., pp. 47-51. 51lsrael, op. cit., p. 48, quoting Inman. 55 one individual "powers beyond reason."52 Moreover, since the five man committee on state committee was appointed by the chairman, no delegate could be certain that the names he submitted would be approved. Finally, Inman pointed out that, at the organizational meeting of the state central committee held several weeks after the convention, further difficulties arose because the law did "not prescribe a quorum to transact business or define a proxy."53 Conse quently, this meeting fibroke up in hopeless confusion."54 To correct these abuses, Inman proposed his bill, which tightened statutory regulation of all phases of state party organization. The Sacramento Bee catalogued the most important features of the bill: 1. Selection of state central committee by a state convention would be abolished. 2. Therefore the committee on state committee would go out of existence. 3. All appointments by delegates would be made "absolute.' 4. Specifications^ what constitutes a quorum would be made. 5. Safeguards would be placed around the proxy system. 6. Meetings of all parties would be held in Sacramento.55 52Ibid. 55Ibid., p. 49, 54Ibid. EC Ibid., quoting from the Sacramento Bee, January 9, 1929. 56 The legislature amended the bill to transfer responsibility for filling state committee vacancies from the chairman to the committee itself and to eliminate a provision which al lowed the state committee to increase its own membership. The amended bill passed both houses without a dissenting vote.56 Changes in the Law, 1929-1951 Between 1929 and 1952, there were few important changes in the law governing political parties. In 1937, three modifications of some consequence were made under the aegis of a Democratic-controlled assembly. One made county c 7 chairmen members of the state central committee. ' Anoth er, requiring that two of the appointees to the state com mittee must be of the opposite sex of the person making the appointment and one of the same sex, gave women equal rep- E Q resentation on the committee. A third provision required that the state committee meet the day after the conclusion of the state convention rather than on the second Saturday after the convention.In the next ten years, further 5®Cal., Journal of the Senate, April 22, 1929; Journal of the Assembly, May 13, 1929. 57Cal. Stats. (1937), ch. 407. 58Ibid. 59Ibid. 57 changes moved the date of the biennial meetings to conform with primary election dates or to avoid interference with national party conventions. In 1947 and 1951, the law was amended to give more flexibility to meeting procedure. A 1947 revision permit ted voice votes in the election of all party officers to uncontested positions.60 In 1951, the requirement that Roberta Rules of Order be the only parliamentary manual used in state committee meetings was deleted to allow the use of any acknowledged manual. The End of Cross-Filing In 1952, the California voters made the direct pri mary a partisan affair. Although they rejected an initia tive measure (Proposition 13) to abolish cross-filing al together, they did approve a referendum (Proposition 7), which required that the party affiliation of each candidate appear on the ballot next to the candidate's name. This affected the pattern of representation and control in the state committee in two important ways. The designation, "Dem." on the ballot enabled the Democrats to capitalize on their registration advantage. The subsequent increase in 60Cal. Stats. (1947), ch. 447. 61Cal. Stats. (1951), ch. 765. 58 the number of Democratic officeholders enhanced the posi tion of the incumbent element in the state central commit tee and gave it firmer control over the organization's activities. At the same time, by reducing the candidates' ability to win the nomination of both major parties, the passage of Proposition 7 adversely affected the influence of the county committees in the state committee. The county ccmittees had been able to augment their representa tion in the state committee with appointments to fill posi tions left vacant when their party's candidates failed to win the party's nomination. The number of such position* was greatly diminished after 1952. The value of this per- ogative was finally completely obliterated in 1959, when a Democratic legislature abolished cross-filing. The year, 1952, marked something of a turning point in California politics. With the restoration of the party label to the nominating process, perhaps party per se be came more important. At the same time, the impotence of official party organs provided some of the motivation for the development of a vigorous and vocal club movement, which was to make insistent claims to participation and in fluence in party councils. Changes in the Law, 1957-1969 These developments may account for the intensified 59 legislative interest in the official party machinery, which, in 1957, produced several noteworthy changes in the law. Section 2830 of the Elections Code, requiring that the executive committee, in conjunction with the party's nominees for Congress, establish a campaign committee in 62 each congressional district was deleted. These district committees had tended to become merged with the personal campaign machinery of the congressional candidate and to lose their identity as part of the official state organiza tion. The legislature also added the national committeeman and national committeewoman to the membership of the state central committee63 and provided that a vacancy in the ap pointed membership of the state committee be filled by the person who made the appointment rather than by a party com mittee.6* Only if the person who made the appointment in dicates that he does not wish to fill the vacancy can the appropriate party committee do so. Nineteen fifty-seven was a modest prelude to the flood of legislative proposals to reconstruct party organi- 62Cal. Stats. (1957), ch. 1105. 63Cal. Stats. (1957), ch. 897. In 1959, the leg islature added the immediate past chairman and immediate past northern and southern section chairmen of the state central committee of a party having more than 3,000,000 registrants to the membership of the state central commit tee ( Cal. Stats. [1959], ch. 1734). 64Cal. Stats. (1957), ch. 87. 60 zation that began to pour forth in 1959. Beginning in 1959, concern over the subject was aggravated by several factors which had become salient in the Democratic party. One was the fact, mentioned above, that party had become more im portant. Candidates, especially Democratic candidates, were openly proclaiming their party affiliation. An ag gressive partisan leadership had emerged in the assembly, and votes were more frequently divided along party lines. More funds were being spent through official party chan nels, and more services were being rendered by party per sonnel . The question of who would control the state com mittee assumed increasing significance as the committee became a repository for more valued political resources. Legislative interest in party organization also re flected the widening split in the Democratic party between the official party hierarchy, dominated by incumbent legis lators, and the California Democratic Council (CDC), rep resenting the club movement and the volunteer, rank-and- file party workers. Two developments helped to escalate hostilities between these elements of the party. First, the 1958 Democratic victory swelled the ranks of Democratic incumbents and strengthened their position in the state central committee. Secondly, the abolition of cross-filing in 1959 eliminated the practical necessity for preprimary endorsements, which were the mainstay of the club movement. 61 Officeholders, who, as challengers, had welcomed the CDC endorsement, now saw it as a threat to their hegemony. Thus, the end of cross-filing marked the beginning of legislative efforts to weaken the CDC, by striking at preprimary endorsements, and to strengthen official party organs and/or the position of incumbents in them. The most explicit of the earliest attacks against preprimary en dorsements came in the 1959 legislative session, with the introduction of Assembly Bill 611 by Charles Wilson. As semblyman Wilson was a close ally of Assemblyman Jesse Un- ruh, a leading figure in the feud between incumbent Demo cratic legislators and CDC. Assembly Bill 611 would have prohibited state cen tral committees, county committees, and any party organiza tion chartered byf or operating under the official sanction of, such committees from endorsing candidates in contested primaries.65 Although the state central committee came under this blanket prohibition, it was not the direct tar get of the bill* As far as the state central committee was concerned, Assembly Bill 611 proposed to prohibit it from doing that which it generally abstained from doing. The bill was aimed directly at CDC and, possibly, at its Re publican counterpart, the California Republican Assembly. 65Rowe, op* cit., p. 2. The discussion of the 1959 bills is taken primarily from this source. 62 It would have settled, however, the longstanding confusion and controversy over the legality of preprimary endorse ments by official party committees. Doubts about this mat ter arose from the fact that California law neither prohib ited nor authorized such endorsements. The Assembly Cosmittee on Elections and Reappor tionment watered down the bill by limiting the prohibition to the state central committees and county committees, . l thereby leaving the unofficial party organizations free to endorse. The Assembly Committee, however, did add the stipulation that endorsements by unofficial party groups could not be represented as official. Having dilluted the bill, the committee allowed it to die.66 Senate Bill 14 73, which was similar to the final version of Assembly Bill 611, was also introduced in the 1959 session by eleven sponsors.67 The senate measure would have prohibited official party committees from making preprimary endorsements and unofficial party organizations from representing their endorsements as official. Like Assembly Bill 611, Senate Bill 1473 died in committee.68 As shall be shorn below. Senate Bill 1473 and the amended 66Ibid. 67Ibid. 68Ibid., pp. 2-3. 63 version of Assembly Bill 611 contained the format of the legislative settlement of the endorsement question, which was enacted in 1963. An entirely different approach to the endorsement question was taken by Democratic Assemblyman Thomas Mac- Bride, who dealt with it as part of a comprehensive pro posal to revamp party organization in California.69 Mac- Bride's measure, Assembly Bill 2853, reflected a desire to enhance the role of official party groups in the nominating process. It provided for party preprimary conventions to be called in assembly, state senatorial, and congressional districts for the purpose of endorsing candidates for these offices in primary elections. Candidates for statewide of fices would be endorsed by a state convention. Assembly Bill 2853 never emerged from committee.70 In the 1961 legislative session, there was no as sault on endorsements as explicit and direct as that con tained in Assembly Bill 611, but the subject was broached indirectly in two bills which proposed to restructure party organisation at the state and local levels. Senate Bill 852, introduced by Senator James Cobey, provided for of ficial assembly, state senatorial, and congressional dis 69Rowe, loc. cit. 70Ibid. 64 trict conventions to endorse candidates in the primaries. Any registered voter residing in the district would be eligible to participate in the endorsing conventions upon payment of a five dollar registration fee. Candidates for statewide office would be endorsed by a statewide conven- tion whose composition, presumably, would be constituted in the same manner as the endorsing conventions for other of fices. Assembly Bill 2312, by Assemblyman Bert Delotto, contemplated a total reform of.party machinery to create an integrated, genuinely pyramidal organization based upon a pirecinct committee structure.^2 The bill provided for the election of a precinct delegate for each party in each pre cinct. These delegates would elect the members of the county central committee, who, in turn, would meet in con ventions to elect members of the state central committee. It also included a provision for the preprimary endorsement of candidates by conventions in the districts from which the candidates were to be nominated. Stars would be prin ted on the direct primary ballot following the name of each candidate so endorsed. The Cobey and DeLotto bills both died in committee. 71 The bill was vague about the way in which the statewide convention would be constituted. ^2Sacramento Bee, Hay 4, 1961. 65 The DeLotto, proposal/ however/ continued to be of con siderable interest to those concerned with rationalizing party organization in California. As late as 1966, it served as a focal point for the deliberations of the Demo cratic state central committee's subcommittee on election code reform.^ The 1961 legislature considered two other bills, which although they did not secure passage, were of some interest. Assembly Bill 755, by John O'Connell, would have permitted candidates for nonpartisan offices to list their party affiliation on the ballot.Although this bill was endorsed by the Democratic executive committee,it died in committee. The other bill, Assembly Bill 712, by Charles 73 Personal observation as secretary to this commit- tee. _. Sacramento Bee, April 8, 1961. The introduction of such bills has become something of a ritual among Demo cratic legislators, especially among those of a liberal persuasion. There are at least two basic reasons for this continuing interest in making local elections partisan: (1) nonpartisanship tends to favor the Republican Party (see Eugene C. Lee, The Politics of Nonpartisanship: A Study of California City Elections [Berkeley: University of California Press, 1960], pp. 55-59.), and (2) nonparti sanship at the local level has denied the Democrats the urban organizational base upon which they have successfully built in other states. ^Minutes of Executive Committee Meeting, March 18, 1961. 66 Wilson, represented an attempt to increase incumbent leg islators' control over the official party apparatus at the local level. It would have permitted legislators, includ ing congressmen, to appoint one member each to local county committees. The bill, backed by Assembly Speaker Unruh, who was in the process of trying to gain control of the Democratic county central committee in Los Angeles, cleared both houses and went to the Governor. It was accompanied by a petition signed by all nineteen Democratic assembly men from Los Angeles County.78 Despite the fact that a Democratic legislature had approved the bill, however, the executive committee of the Democratic state central commit- 77 tee passed a resolution urging the Governor to veto it. Opposition to the measure included the CDC, many Democratic county chairmen. Lieutenant Governor Glenn Anderson, and Richard Richards, state senator from Los Angeles County.78 Senator Richards claimed that the Governor had promised to * veto the bill. The Governor kept his promise.78 The legislature of 1961 did manage to amend the Elections Code to fortify the position of incumbents in the 76Los Angeles Mirror, July 21, 1961. 77Mlnutes of Executive Committee Meeting March 18, 1961. 78Los Angeles Mirror, July 21, 1961. 79Ibld. 67 state central committee and to strengthen the committee by removing a few of the statutory restrictions on its pro cedures. Incumbents achieved firm control of the state committee by means of an amendment which authorized "hold over" delegates or nominee delegates from districts repre sented by incumbents to make two appointments to the com mittee, in addition to the three appointments made by every mmmber of the state convention.80 Unlike the provision governing the three basic appointments made by every Demo cratic nominee, the amendment did not contain language cal ling for the equal representation of the sexes in the se lection of these bonus appointees. The procedure of the state committee was made somewhat more flexible by the de letion of the requirement that the election of officers be si by roll-call vote. A third amendment pertained only to the state convention and the state committee of political parties having more than 3,000,000 registered voters and, consequently, only to the Democrats.®2 It required the Democratic party to hold annual (rather than biennial) meetings and provided that the appointive members serve one-year (rather than two-year) terms. Moreover, it left 80Cal. Stats. (1961), ch. 2223. 81Cal. Stats. (1961), ch. 1140. 82Cal. Stats. (1961), ch. 2224. 68 the determination of the time of the meeting to the discre tion of the state chairman. Political parties having less than 3,000,000 registered voters still had to meet once every two years on the first Saturday in August following the direet primary election. By the end of the 1961 session, it was apparent that Democratic legislators were contemplatimg some move to hinder, if not abolish, the endorsement activities of the CDC. What was not clear was the form such a move should or would take. This uncertainty apparently stemmed from the ambivalence of some legislators' attitudes toward endorse ments. Officeholders were understandably reluctant to sub mit their fate to even the slimest chance that an endorse ment might go to a challenger in the primary. Moreover, some politicians denied that endorsements had substantially benefited the party and contended that the addition of the party designation to the ballot was far more effective in boosting Democratic party fortunes than the simultaneous initiation of endorsements by the CDC. Other arguments against endorsements were that the establishment of the closed primary made endorsements unnecessary, that endorse ments now did more to divide the party than to unite it, and that endorsements now constituted an attespt to slip the discredited convention system back into the nominating process, contrary to the intent of the direct primary law. 69 On the other hand, some legislators, including As sembly Speaker Unruh, appreciated the value of the en dorsement as a means of consolidating party resources and counteracting the influence of pressure groups or wealthy donors in the nominating process. Consequently, as Speaker Unruh indicated in a speech presented at a CDC legislative conference, state legislators were thinking about making some changes in the endorsement procedures of the Democra tic party, without abolishing preprimary endorsements en tirely.®^ Sane legislators had become interested in en dorsements by the state committee, which they controlled, as an alternative to endorsements by the CDC, which they did not control. The Speaker, in his CDC speech, said that he would like to see "the State Central Committee's right to endorse.. .reaffirmed legislatively."®* Another possible course of action mentioned by the Speaker would be to in crease the representation of officeholders in the CDC* Neither course of action was taken. Instead the 1963 leg islature moved to weaken the effectiveness of endorsements by unofficial party organizations. Between the 1959 and the 1963 legislative sessions, several factors strengthened the resolve of Democratic ®3I«lberal Democrat, March, 1961, p. 5. 84Ibid., pp. 5-6. 70 legislators to produce some sort of "final solution" to the endorsement queston. One was a 1960 court decision, which held that, in the absense of any statutory prohibition, OC county committees could make preprimary endorsements. The decision did not mention the state central committees, but the logic of the decision was clearly applicable to them. As a result of the court action, there was a need for legislative clarification of the legality of endorse ments by official party groups. Even more importantly, the feud between the CDC and the legislative wing of the party became increasingly open and increasingly bitter. One factor in this intensifica tion of intra-party conflict was the 1961 reapportionment, which perpetuated and extended "safe" Democratic districts. Democratic candidates in these top heavy districts did not need a maximum effort to win and, consequently, were less dependent on volunteer workers.Moreover, these safe districts tended to be located in working class and ethnic minority constituencies. Even the most ardent defenders of the CDC admitted that the predominently middle-class, issue- oriented character of its membership had caused it to ne- ®5Rowe, op. cit., p. 9. s c Liberal Democrat, April, 1963, p. 14; James Q. Wilson, The Amateur Democrati Club Politics in Three Cities (Chicago* University of Chicago £ress, 1966), pp. 299-360. 71 gleet precinct work in such areas, where both the potential Democratic vote and low voter turnouts tended to be concen trated.**^ Thus, the CDC failed to help Democratic candi dates in areas where its assistance in getting Democrats to register and vote might be most appreciated. All that re mained of a CDC presence in such areas was the threatening possibility of its endorsement going to a challenger in the primary and the potential embarrassment of its stand on is sues. The 1961 reapportionment, therefore, tended to undermine the usefulness of the CDC to Democratic candi dates, while leaving in sharp relief the threatening as pects of its endorsement and issue activities. A second factor in the intensification of conflict between the CDC and Democratic incumbents was closely re lated to the first. Where incumbent Democrats enjoyed a relatively high registration margin, their incentive to de velop grass-roots organisation and activity and, thereby, to help the rest of the ticket tended to be minimized. As a result, in these safe districts, the Governor and other nominees for statewide office tended to run well behind 88 local candidates. ®7Wilson op. cit., pp. 258-261. ®8Por example, in 1962, in the twelve "safest" Democratic assembly districts in Los Angeles County (sixty percent and more registration), Governor Brown ran behind the Democratic assembly nominee in ten. 72 The 1961 reapportionment, by enhancing the elector al security of Democratic legislators, may have been one of several reasons for the extensive use of paid precinct workers in the 1962 get-out-the-vote drive. The employment of paid workers struck at the heart of CDC's role in the Democratic party and further embittered that organization's relations with incumbent officeholders and the official party organs under their control. Among the other acrimon ious products of the controversy over paid workers was an angry public attack by leaders of the volunteer movement on Speaker Unruh, the leader of the legislative contingent of the party and the director of the 1962 get-out-the-vote operation.The CDC's disposition was not improved by the efforts of the Speaker and his legislative allies to extend their control over the official apparatus of the party at both the state and local levels. It is against this background of growing antagonism between the incumbent and volunteer factions of the Demo cratic party that many of the Elections Code revisions con sidered by the 1963 legislature must be understood. Two bills, in particular, gave the protagonists in this con flict the opportunity to play out their hostilities. One, Assembly Bill 3042, introduced by Assemblyman Thomas Bane, a9Los Angeles Times, December 18, 1962 73 revised the special election procedure to provide for a primary. The other, introduced by Assemblymen Philip Soto and Harvey Johnson, was the suggestively titled "Truth in Endorsement" measure. Both bills were supported by the Speaker and his allies and were strongly opposed by the CDC. Assembly Bill 3042 was introduced in the wake of two special election losses by the Democrats: one in the twenty-third congressional district to fill the vacancy left by the death of Democratic Congressman Clyde Doyle, and the other to fill the first congressional district seat left vacant by the death of Democrat Clem Hiller. The Democrats, apparently feeling that they suffered a strate gic disadvantage under the prevailing "one-shot" special election mechanism,90 moved to provide for party primaries before special elections. As originally submitted, the bill called for the convening of a convention to name the party's official nom inee in the special election primary. Such a convention was So be composed solely of members of the state central committee and the county committee resident in the city or county in which the vacancy occurred. Under the existing procedure, any registered voter could collect signatures, AA 7 Suggested by remarks of State Chairman Eugene Wyman, as quoted in the Riverside press, June 19, 1963. 74 pay a filing fee, and run in a special election, with his party designation next to his name on the ballot. Assembly Bill 3042 could have been interpreted to preclude any per son, other than those nominated by their respective party conventions, from using "Democrat" or "Republican" after his name. This was the interpretation made by the CBC.9^ The volunteer organization apparently saw the bill as a threat to its monopoly of party endorsement activities: it was the opening wedge of legally sanctioned endorsements by official party organs. To make matters worse, from the viewpoint of the CDC, the state central committee and the Los Angeles county central committee were dominated by in cumbent state legislators. The original version of Assembly Bill 3042 was at tacked in the legislature by Assemblymen Philip Burton, Charles Warren, and Anthony Beilenson— all of them friends 92 of the CDC. In this case, those opposed to the conven tion provision of the bill prevailed: the bill was amended to simply establish a primary election procedure for spe- 91Califomia Democratic Council, "Emergency No tice," June 3, 1963. {Mimeographed.) 92 Burton, in particular, saw the bill as a "get Burton" measure designed to prevent him from running for the congressional seat that would be vacated if John Shelly were to be elected Mayor of San Francisco. See the Liberal Democrat, August, 1963, p. 8i Riverside Press, June 19, m — ---------------------------------- 75 cial elections, with no provision for endorsements by of ficial party organizations. If there was lively controversy over Assembly Bill 3042, there was open and savage warfare over Assembly Bill 2922. In its original form, Assembly Bill 2922 had four main sections. First, it reaffirmed that the state con vention, the state central committee, and the county cden tral committees are the official governing bodies of each party. Seocndly, it prohibited these official bodies, their officers, and their agents from contributing money or from acting in any way to aid or oppose any candidate in a partisan primary. This section contained the provision that "the state convention, state central committee, and county central committee in each county...shall not en dorse, support, or oppose any candidate for nomination by that party for partisan office in the direct primary elec tion. "*3 xt also prohibited any primary election candidate from claiming that he is the official candidate or the of ficially endorsed candidate of that party. Thirdly, it outlawed endorsements by unofficial bodies that use the name of a qualified party as part of their name. Fourthly, it required any unofficial party group making preprimary endorsements to display prominently on its literature a 93Cal. Stats. (1963), ch. 2003. 76 disclaimer, stating that its endorsement is unofficial and that preprimary endorsements by official party organiza tions are illegal. The section made it a misdemeanor for any printer or literature circulator to accept payment for preparing or circulating matter not bearing the disclaimer. The denial of the use of the party name to any group making preprimary endorsements and the disclaimer provision were aimed directly at the CDC,®* which launched a strong campaign against the bill. A group of its offi cers descended on Sacramento to lobby against it, and mem bers were reported to have flooded the state capitol with 95 letters, wires, and telephone calls opposing it. Thomas Carvey, President of the CDC, made a harsh public attack against the bill and against Speaker Unruh, who worked ac- 96 tively for it. Those legislators who opposed Assembly Bill 2922 complained of the inordinate pressure that Unruh and his allies mobilized to pass it. Assemblyman Philip ®*There is evidence that some Republicans, at least those denied endorsements by the California Republican As sembly, also favored the bill. For example, Republican Senator John McCarthy, who lost a CRA endorsement for the office of Lieutenant Governor to George Christopher, was reported to have rounded up votes for Assembly Bill 2922 (California Democratic Council, "Extra," undated. [Mimeo graphed . ]) . ®5Washlnaton Star, June 25, 1963; California Demo cratic Council, "Emergency Notice," June 3, 1963. ®*Liberal Democrat, August, 1963, p. 2. Unruh was widely reported to have authored the bill. 77 Burton charged that "Everything but the capitol dome was traded in an effort to hurt CDC," and Senator Thomas Rees complained that he had lost several of his key bills be cause of his opposition to Assembly Bill 2922.97 Ultimately the bill did pass, albeit in an amended form.98 one Qf the two provisions which were most onerous to the CDC, the one denying the use of the party name to any group making preprimary endorsements, was deleted, but the other, requiring the disclaimer, was left in. Mobil izing all of its resources, the CDC was unable to persuade the Governor to veto the bill. Assembly Bill 2922 did write into the Elections Code an explicit prohibition against preprimary endorse ments by the state committee or any other official party body. As has been noted above, this only served to confirm existing practice and to settle the long-standing question about the legality of endorsements by official party organ izations. Zt is interesting to note, however, that the prohibition against participation in primary elections by officers, employees, or agents of these official organiza tions was amended out of the bill. Such an explicit pro- 9?California Democratic Council, CDC Bulletin, July 1963, p. 10. go Cal. Stats. (1063), ch. 1108. 78 hibition would have cemented into the law a principle which has been honored more in the breach than in the obser- 99 vance. The 1963 legislature considered a number of other bills relating to state party organization, none of which excited as much intra-party controversy as Assembly Bills 3042 and 2922. Only a few of those which failed to pass were of any consequence. Assembly Bill 2466 reflected the bifurcation of California's political life in a proposal to have the Democratic state convention and the Democratic state central committee meet in southern California in odd- numbered years. This measure was opposed by the executive committee of the Democratic state central committee. Assembly Bills 1562 and 284 would have allowed candidates for councilman in cities of over 100,000 population and county supervisors to list their party affiliation on the ballot. These bills excited the usual "back to bossism" cries in the press.*®*’ Assembly Bill 1512 represented an "cDC made a rather feeble effort to retaliate by supporting a "purity of elections" measure (Assembly Bill 499), introduced by Assemblyman Gordon Win ton. To no one's surprise, this bill was killed in the Assembly Committee on Elections and Reapportionment by Chairman Thomas Bane (Santa Monica Evening Outlook, April 10, 1963). 100E1 Cajon Valley News, Hay 26, 1963> 10*8an Francisco Chronicle and Sacramento Bee, as quoted in the Liberal Democrat, March, i$63, p. 10. 79 effort to shorten the campaign period. It proposed to change the date of primary elections for partisan offices from June to September. The bill vvuld have changed the dates of the state central committee and state convention meetings to insure that they would continue to meet after the primary. There was also the perennial attempt by an unreconstructed half of the state senate to restore cross filing.102 While rejecting these bills, the Legislature did make many changes in the Elections Codes, the majority of which were of a technical nature. Some of these technical revisions, however, are noteworthy. One change was made at the request of Democratic State Chairman Eugene Wyman.10 It was made necessary by careless drafting of the 1961 amendment which required the Democratic state central com mittee to hold annual meetings. That amendment could be interpreted to require the annual election of the state chairman. Another provision of the Code (8210) stipulated that the state chairman could not succeed himself. There fore, Eugene Wyman would have had to step down after ser ving one year. The Code was amended to provide that the 102Senate Bill 340, sponsored by twelve Republicans and eight Democrats. 103Letter from the Governor's office to Eugene Wyman, April 11, 1963. 80 state chairman serve a two-year t e r m . ^4 The 1961 legislature could not be accused of having exercised inordinate care or of having exhibited inordinate perspicacity in drafting legislation regulating state party organization. The 1961 provision for annual meetings of the Democratic state central committee, conjoined with the new provisions for bonus appointments and for one-year terms for appointed members, had other unforeseen conse quences. One was confusion about the number of appoint ments each member of the state convention was entitled to make to the state committee. As far as the 1962 state com mittee meeting was concerned, the confusion was compounded by the 1961 reapportionment, which revised assembly and congressional district boundaries and numbers. As amended in 1961, section 8014 of the Elections Code gave certain delegates to the convention the right to appoint two delegates to the state committee, in addition to the three appointments to which all members of the con vention were entitled. Theae additional appointments were given to incumbent officeholders of two types: (1) "hold over delegates," defined under section 9002 as those incum bent officeholders "whose term of office extends beyond the eighth day of January next following the direct primary 1Q4Cal. Stats. (1963), ch. 2018. 81 election," (2) those nominee delegates who were nominated by the party at the primary election "from a district rep resented by an incumbent officeholder affiliated with the same party as the nominee delegate." The question raised by the 1961 reapportionment involved the incumbency status of nominee delegates for offices based on districts, the boundaries of which were changed as a result of reapportion- ment. In 1962 the question was submitted to the Legisla tive Counsel, who was asked to prepare charts showing the number of state committee appointments to be made by each member of the convention. The Legislative Counsel resolved the question of incumbency in the various districts for the purposes of section 8014 by applying the rules estab lished under section 10301.5, which set forth the standards for determining incumbency in the new assembly and congres sional districts for election purposes.3 - 05 Still another question, created by carelessness in drafting the 1961 revisions, remained to be settled. The provision calling for annual meetings of the convention and state central committee did not specify whether the party's nominees who were defeated in the last preceding general election were still to be "nominee delegates" to the con- l05Cal., Legislative Counsel, Opinion No. 4284 (June 14, 1962). 82 vention held in non-election years.According to sec tion 8002 of the Code, a "nominee delegate" is "a candidate of the party in whose behalf nomination papers were filed and who was nominated at the direct primary election by that party." Given the language of this section, did the candidate status of a nominee delegate lapse if he was de feated in the general election preceding the off-year meet ing the state convention? If so, did he still qualify as a nominee delegate? If he did not qualify as a nominee delegate, an anomalous state of affairs would occur. Under section 8005 of the Code, vacancies in the membership of the state convention are filled by county committees, in the case of state legislative seats, and by the state com mittee, in the case of statewide or congressional offices. If a defeated candidate no longer qualified as a nominee delegate, it would be necessary for the appropriate com mittee to make appointments to fill the resultant vacan* cies. Consequently, the representation of party commit tees in the state convention would increase in odd-numbered years and shrink in even-numbered years. For example, as of the 1962 general election, the Republicans held thirteen seats in the state senate, twenty-eight in the Assembly, 10^Memorandum from Larry Fisher to Steve Smith, undated. 83 fourteen in Congress, one in the United States Senate, and one statewide executive office, giving the Democratic party committees fifty-seven appointments to the 1963 state con vention (almost thirty-four percent of the membership).*0? In 1964, except for vacancies created by death, resigna tion, or disqualification, they would not have any appoint ments to the convention! In the 1963 session, the legislature passed Assem bly Bill 2465, am omnibus measure which was designed to clarify some of the questions raised by the 1961 revisions 1 Ap and to make other changes, primarily technical in nature Before enacting this bill, however, the legislature this time took the precautionary step of submitting it to the Legislative Counsel. Since Assembly Bill 2465 retained the language of section 8002, the Counsel was asked if, under this language, a nominee delegate to a state convention held in an even-numbered year would be a nominee delegate to the convention held in the subsequent odd-numbered year. These appointed convention delegates, plus their state conmittee appointments, would have comprised about twenty-four percent of the state committee membership. ^O^Another omnibus measure, Assembly Bill 1299, included other technical revisions, the most significant of which changed the date of the ecganixational meeting of the Republican state central committee from the Aggast after the direct primary to the January following the general election (Cal. Stats. (1963), ch. 2017). 84 109 The Legislative Counsel answered In the affirmative. A nominee delegate to a convention held in an even-numbered year, if he were elected to office, would be a holdover de legate to the convention held in the odd-numbered year. A nominee delegate who was not elected would remain a nominee delegate to the convention held in the odd-numbered year. His status was defined by his nomination in the direct pri mary election: "...election to office is not a requirement for qualification as a 'nominee delegate.' 109cal., Legislative Counsel, Opinion No. 19190 (June 2, 1963). ^®The Legislative Counsel's opinion in this mat ter seemed to contradict his analysis in support of an ear lier opinion, rendered in 1962. (Cal., Legislative Coun sel, Opinion No. 4556 [July 17, 1962]). The question was whether or not a state senate nominee in 1960, who was de feated in the general election, would continue to be an ex officio member of the county central committee formed in 1962. Answering the negative, the Counsel reasoned that "from a technical standpoint, a person ceases to be the nominee of his party for an office when he is either elec ted or defeated at the general election succeeding the di rect primary election at trhich he was nominated.* This, however, did not seem to be the governing premise of the Counsel's ppinion, because he added: "we do not mean to imply by this that a party nominee is not entitled to serve for the entire term during which the county committee con tinues in existence.* The Counsel's opinion was based pri marily on the fact that the membership of the county com mittee must be determined by the direct primary immediately preceding the formation of the committee. Therefore, aside from incumbent senators, only persons nominated for legis lative offices in that direct primary would be entitled to ex-officio membership on the county committee. 85 Assembly Bill 2465 did make more explicit the status of a nominee delegate who won office in the general election and, consequently, the number of state committee appointments to which he was entitled. It did so by ad ding the following language to 8002(b): If a candidate is a 'nominee delegate' to the state convention held in the year in whidh he is nominated, and is elected to the office at the succeeding general election, he shall be consid ered a 'holdover delegate' to the state comven- tion of his party held in the next odd-numbered year,...111 Assembly Bill 2465 made three other changes that are worth noting here. First, it revoked the element of discretion and flexibility in setting the dates of the state convention and state central committee meetings, which had been given the chairman under the 1961 revisions. The 1961 legislature left the meeting dates up to the chairman. Assembly Bill 2465 reinstated the old rule re quiring the Democratic state convention and the Democratic state central committee to meet in August. Secondly, it stipulated that only the convention held in even-numbered years must adopt a platform. The old provision in section 8021 stipulated simply that, when the convention met, it had to adopt a platform.112 Thirdly, as has been indicated HiCal. Stats. (1963), ch. 2018. 112The failure to amend this section was another instance of absentmindedness in the 1961 session. 86 above, Assembly Bill 2465 provided that the chairman and other elected officials of the state committee would serve ill two-year terms. Only a few of the other changes made In the 1963 session were worthy of attention. Assembly Bill 2970 ad ded section 82 32 to the Elections Code. This new section explicitly authorized the state central committee to pre scribe membership dues, not to exceed twenty-four dollars per year. Any member failing to pay the prescribed dues can be removed from the committee.114 Assembly Bill 2529 amended section 8260, which allowed the state central com mittee to remove any appointed member who, during his term of membership, affiliated with another party or gave sup port to or stated a preference for a candidate of another party. The amendment added language which authorized re moval of an appointed member who "publically advocates that the voters should not vote" for the nominee of his party. The relatively large number of revisions made by the 1963 legislature initiated a general reordering and renumbering of the Code provisions regulating party organi 11 Elections Code (1963), sec. 8210. 114Cal. Stats. (1963), ch. 1890. 115Cal. Stats. (1963), ch. 1986. 87 zation, which continued through 1966. Between 1963 and 1966, however, fewer bills affecting state party organize* tion were submitted and only a few substantive changes of any importance were made* Meeting in a special session in 1964, the legisla ture made two substantive changes. One added language to section 8202.35making it clear that bonus appointments to the state committee could be made without regard to sex.**7 The other change related exclusively to the compo sition of the Republican state central committee. Assembly Bill 96, carried by Assemblyman Thomas Bane as a courtesy to his Republican colleagues, gave Republican incumbents five bonus appointments to the state committee, in addition to the three basic appointments made by all Republican nom- 118 inees. The purpose of the bill was to help Republican officeholders stave off a "right-wing" take-over of the official state organization.119 Ultra-conservatives tried to capture control of the state committee by running can 116Formerly sec. 8014. 117Cal. Stats, (1963), ch. 147. 118Ibid. 119John R. Owens, Edmond Constantini, Louis F. Heschler, California Politics and Parties (London t The Macmillan Company, 1970), pp. 1^1-192; Sinta Ana Register, May 23, 1964; Redlands Facts, July 2, 1964. 88 didates for legislative seats in overwhelmingly Democratic districts. These candidates had no chance of winning, but, as nominees of their party, they would appoint members of their persuasion to the state committee. The additional appointments for incumbents helped blunt the thrust of this effort. Only two important changes were made in 1965. One, contained in Aseembly Bill 3036, eliminated the legal re quirement for annual meetings of the Democratic state cen tral committee and restored the old rule calling for bi ennial meetings. It also extended the terms of appointed members from one year to two years.*2® The other change added twenty county chairmen, selected by the chairmen of all county committees, to the Republican state convention and gave each of the fifty-eight county chairmen, who were already members of the state committee, from one to three appointments to the committee.121 In 1967, the Elections Code was rearranged and re numbered, and the provisions regulating the Democratic and Republican parties were separated.*22 The step should 120Cal. Stats. (1965), ch. 2010. 121Owens, Costuttinif Wcichl6rf o^^^cJLt* § p* X9X* 122Cal. Stats. (1967), ch. 1651. The provisions applying exclusively to the Democratic arty are now num bered 8500-8945; those applying to the Republican party are contained in sections 9000-9510 (see Derrinq's Elections 89 facilitate changes in the legal structure of the parties in the future. A few substantive changes of some consequence made in the regulations governing the Democratic party in 1967 and in 1969* One added a provision for associate membership on the state committee. Each delegate to the convention may appoint three associate members, who "shall have such priv ileges and obligations as are given to him by the rules of the committee but shall not be able to vote."123 The Demo cratic state central committee had used associate member ships before 1967, as means of increasing participation in organizational affairs and of raising money. These, how ever, were not appointed memberships. The new provision gives associate membership some official standing. Another change codified existing practice. It stipulated that the state committee: shall provide for the election to its executive committee of two members, one of each sex, from each congressional district delegation. A con gressional district delegation shall consist only of those state central committee members within that congressional district and within the election district of the delegate to the Code, 1971 Pocket Supplement [San Francisco: Bancroft- Whitney Company, 1971], secs. 8000-9510). 123Cal. Stats. (1967), ch. 1651. This provision also applied to the Republican party. 90 state convention by whom such member of the state central committee was appointed.124 Congressional district co-chairmen, elected in con formity with this language, have been members of the Demo cratic state central committee, at least since 1938. The Code, however, did not contain any reference to them. A provision, enacted in 1919, did allude to congressional district committees, which were to be selected by the ex ecutive committees, consisting of between fifteen and thirty-five members, were to conduct congressional cam paigns, under the supervision of the state committee. No mention was made of the chairmen of these congressional district committees or of the representation of these com mittees on the executive committee. Cresap indicates that practice in the matter of congressional district committees varied widely. General ly, however, such committees did not exist as distinct en tities or as arms of the state organisation but tended to become merged with the congressional candidate's personal campaign apparatus.125 Moreover, the co-chairmen, who, ostensibly, were to provide leadership to these committees, were not selected by the committees but by caucuses of all 124Ibid. There are no stipulations governing the composition of the Republican executive committee. 125cresap, op. cit., p. 50. I 91 state central committee members in their congressional districts.126 Those familiar with state central committee affairs have indicated that wishes of congressmen have not carried exceptional weight in the selection of congression al co-chairmen, because congressmen do not tend to be at tentive to formal organizational matters.-*-2^ It appears that existing practices did not conform to the language and implications of the Code section per taining to congressional district committees, which is probably why this section was repealed in 1957. The 1967 addition confirmed long-standing custom in recognizing con gressional district delegations (rather than committees), stipulating their composition and their role in the selec tion of co-chairmen, and providing that the congressional district co-chairmen shall be members of the executive com mittee . One important change was mode in 1969. The Demo crats followed the precedent established by the Republicans in 1963 and changed the date of their biennial state com mittee meeting from the August after the primary election to "the fourth Sunday of January after a general elec- 12*Ibid., pp. 46-47. 127Interviews with Carmen Warshew, August 31, 1970; and Hadale Watson, August 31, 1967. 92 t i o n . ” 12f) new meeting data has some obvious advan tages. The committee is no longer obliged to hold its organizing meeting in the midst of campaign season. The party, therefore, is no longer required to face the general election with a newly elected, and sometimes inexperienced, chairman. The new date also defers the fights, which often occur at state committee meetings, until after the election, thereby minimizing their damage to the party. The dwindling number of substantive Code changes in recent years has not signaled a waning of interest in party reorganization. Democratic leaders have continued to com plain about the disjointed structure, which leaves the state organization without any foundation in grass-roots organizations, and about the lack of coordination between the state committee and county committees in such essential activities as registration, recruitment of volunteers, and financing. They continue to toy with the idea of prepri mary endorsements by official party organs as a means of consolidating party resources. Moreover, spurred by the disintegration of the CDC as an avenue for volunteer par ticipation and by the democratizing thrust of the national party's reform movement, California Democrats have given close attention to increasing rank-and-file participation 128Cal. 8tats. (1963), ch. 2017; and (1969), ch. 1225. 93 in official party organa. Some of the party's reorganiza- tional efforts will be discussed and evaluated in the final chapter to this study. The Republicans presently seen to be relatively satisfied with the smooth-running operation established by Dr. Gaylord Parkinson. They have been able to overcame at least some of the organizational disabilities created by the Code through unified financing. The Democrats, who have had far less success in centralizing and systematizing fund-raising, continue to look to party reorganization as a means of bringing together what the Code and political practice have set asunder. CHAPTER III THE STATE CONVENTION The proliferation of statutory enactments govern ing party organization has, in the opinion of most obser vers of California politics, created "a structure resem bling a pyramid in shape and virtually as lifeless. ml It takes a supreme act of imagination to conceptualize Calif ornia party structures as pyramidal, either in law or in practice. The law mandates the existence of two entities at the state level: the state convention and the state central committee* There is no structural or functional reason to designate either as an organizational apex. The third organizational element mandated by the law is the county committee, which has a flimsy relationship to the state committee and no relationship at all to the conven tion. It is a most ephemeral pyramid that lacks both an apex and a base. Whatever particular mold the fragmented structures of California parties may be said to resemble, they are not as devoid of animation and purpose as the quo tation above suggests. ^Winston W. Crouch, et al., California Government and Politics (2d. ed.; Englewood Cliifs, liew Jersey: Fren tice-Hall, 1960), p. 56. 94 95 The main function of the convention is to adopt the party's platform. In presidential election years, it also selects the party's candidates for presidential electors. The platform-writing process is significant for what it re veals about the inner life of the party. The final output of the process has meaning, at least to those who toil to produce it and to affect its content. The platform also has relevance to the issue choices of the heuristic (and legendary) "rational voter." Composition The Elections Code requires that the convention consist of the party's nominees for elective state and fed eral offices, plus "holdover" delegates, i.e., officehold ers whose term of office does not currently expire.2 The convention, therefore, consists of one delegate for each of the following offices: governor, lieutenant governor, treasurer, controller, attorney general, secretary of state, members of the Board of Equalization (4), United States senator (2), representatives in Congress (38), state sen ators (40), and state assemblymen (80)— a total of 170 del egates. An overwhelming majority of these delegates are ^Elections Code (1964), sec. 8001. 96 candidates for state legislative office. The state convention is obviously designed to be the creature of officeholders and nominees and, specifical ly, to be under the domination of candidates for the state legislature. Three events— the abolition of cross-filing* the Democratic avalanche of 1958, and the 1961 reapportion ment— have significantly affected the composition of the convention. The end of cross-filing guaranteed candidate ascendency in the Democratic state convention. The 1958 Democratic victory and the 1961 reapportionment gave a majority of seats to incumbent officeholders. The abolition of cross-filing insured candidate control by eliminating appointments that had been available to party cnmmittees under cross-filing. Under cross-filing many candidates won the nomination of both parties.^ Since they were eligible to serve only in the convention of the party with which they were affiliated, various legally con stituted committees were authorized to appoint delegates when the party's candidates were not registered members of the party.4 The state central committee filled vacancies 3Leonard Rowe, Preprimary Endorsements in Califor nia Politics (Berkeley: Bureau of Public Administration, University of California, 1961), p. 23. In 1952, 72 per cent of all partisan offices were won by cross-filed can didates. *Dean R. Cresap, Party Politics in the Golden State (Los Angeles: Haynes Foundation, 1954), p. 50; Elections Code (1951), secs. 2793, 2796, 2797. 97 for United States senators, representatives in congress, and state officers elected at large. County centre! com mittees filled vacancies in state assembly and state senate districts. This practice gave the county committees the opportunity to make appointments to the convention and, thereby, to gain a voice in its deliberations and increased representation in the state central ommmittee. The power to make such appointments was a signifi cant one: in 1950, of the 155 delegates to the state con vention, central committees appointed 71. The value of such appointments, as a means of including prominent party leaders in what would otherwise be exclusively a candi dates' and officeholders' conclave, is indicated by Cre- sap's discussion of appointments made in 1952: The executive committee of the Democratic state central committee...appointed such party regulars to the convention as Oliver Carter, state central committee chairman; Mrs. Edward H. Heller, na tional committeewoman; and the women's division chairman, Ruth Dodds. Delegates appointed from congressional districts were usually Democrats who had lost the nomination to Republican candi dates. The county central committees' appointed included John McEnery, prominent San Jose county central committeeman; Donald Younger, chairman of the Santa Cruz county central committee; William Malone, San Francisco county chairman; Frances Fisher, co-chairman of the eighth congressional district committee; Lional Steinberg of Fresno, an official in the state Young Democrat organiza tion; and Glenn Anderson, Los Angeles Democrat who was mentioned at the time to succeed Carter as state chairman. ^Cresap, op. cit., pp. 31-32. 98 County central committee appointments to the state convention furnished a degree of integration between the convention and the only legally recognized organizations at the local level. The significance of this preroaative was severely diminished in 1954, when party designations began to appear on the primary ballot. In 1966, for example, only six such appointments were available to county com mittees.6 When cross-filing was abolished in 1959, the county committees lost their only legal means of partici pating in the state convention.7 The composition and control of the state convention were dramatically altered by the Democratic sweep of elec tive office in 1958 and by the 1961 reapport.tonment. These two events crave incumbents a strong numerical advan tage over candidates in both the state convention and the state central committee. The striking increase in the number of Democratic officeholders is shown by Table 1. While electoral victories crave incumbents preponderance in official organ* of the state party, the reapportionment of ®Cal., Secretary of State, Statement of Vote, Consolidated Direct and Presidential Primary Election, June 57155* " . ---------------- 1 --------- 7 In 1960, there were only two vacant posts to be filled, and these were under the iurisdiction of the execu tive committee of the Democratic state central committee. Gifford Philips of San Mateo served as United States sena tor and Mrs. Ann Alanson as Secretary of State (Sacramento Bee, July 30, 1960). TABLE 1 NUMBER OF DEMOCRATIC INCUMBENTS, 1952-1966a Office Total 1952 1954 1956 1958 1960 1962 1964 1966 Statewide executive 6 9 1 1 5 5 5 5 1 Board of Equalization 4 2 2 2 4 4 4 4 4 U. S. Senate 2 0 0 0 1 1 1 0 0 U. S. House of Representatives . 38^ 11 11 13 16 16 25 23 21 State senate................ 40 11 16 20 28 30 27 27 21 State assembly............... 80 26 32 38 47 47 52 48 42 TOTAL..........170 50 62 74 101 103 114 107 89 aAdapted from: James O. Wilson, The Amateur Democrat: Club Politics in Three Cities (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1962), p. 320. ^Includes eight seats gained after the 1960 census. 100 1961 helped to sustain their regime through 1966, Jesse Unruh, former speaker of the assembly, was incumbent Pen- dragon. His comments in 1961 concerning reapportioilment and its effects are instructive, although overly optimis tic : If the Assembly and my good friend Robert W. Crown of Alameda do the kind of fair, forward- looking long-range reapportionment this session that I think they will, there are going to be some 45 to 53 1 Bafe' Democratic Districts in the lower house. Barring a national or state catastrophe for the Democratic party, the Assembly is going to have a Bourbon majority for 6-8-10 or even 20 years. The Senate, now 30-10 Democratic, seems dafe for an equally long period. This means that the most stable portion of the Democratic party for the for- seeable future will be its incumbent legislators. Democratic Congressmen fit pretty well into this same category.& Speaker Unruh then indicated this stable numberical superi ority was to be translated in terms of power: It seems to make sense, then, that the most stable part of the party, with the most at stake over the long run, should have a decisive if not overwhelming voice in determining the future of the party through selection of its candidates, as well as through implementation of its policies. As Table 1 shows, in 1952, Democratic incumbent legislators held only 48 of the 162 convention seats; as of the 1962 elections, they held 104 of 170 seats. In 1952, g The Liberal Democrat, March, 1961, p. 5. 9Ibid. 101 the convention and the state central committee could be described as crefctures of officeholders and candidates* In 1962, they were strictly the creatures of officeholders, specifically, of incumbent legislators. Table 1 also shows that Speaker Unruh's confidence in the continued dominance of the "most stable portion of the party"— the incumbent legislators— was not warranted. Their margin of control over the state convention reabhed a peak in 1962, when they held 104 of the 170 seats. This margin of sixty-six votes was diminished sharply by election losses. As of the 1966 election, incumbent legislators were two votes short of a majority in the convention.10 Convention Arrangements The Elections Code dictates the purpose and proce dure of the state convention. Its provisions governing the time and place of meeting are elaborately detailed. Before 1961, the Code required that political parties having less than 3,000,000 registrants meet in Sacramento at ten o'clock in the morning of the first Saturday in August fol lowing the primary election.This provision continued to govern the Republican state convention. Political parties ^After 1968, their deficit was ten votes. ^Elections Code (1960), sec. 2792. 102 having more than 3,000,000 registered voters, i.e., the Democrats, were required to hold their convention in Sacra mento "at 10 o'clock of the morning of the Saturday desig nated by the chairman of the state central committee of the party, which shall be no earlier than the eighth or later than the twelfth Saturday following each direct primary 1 2 elections.Both conventions were, thus, required to meet onee every two years, and neither was permitted to meet before the primary. A 1961 amendment changed the rules for the Democrats: The state convention of each political party with which are affiliated more than 3,000,000 registered voters shall meet annually at Sacramento at 10 o'clock of the morning of a Saturday designated by the chairman of the state central committee of the party.13 The Democratic state convention was required to meet annually but it was no longer bound to meet after the primary. For a while, it seemed that a rule, which had been regarded as one of the chief barriers to preprimary endorsements by official party organs, had been eliminated. Indeed, the change may have been made precisely for the purpose of clearing the way for official party endorsements. 12Elections Code (1960), sec. 2792.1. ^Cal. Stats. (1961), ch. 2224; Elections Code (1962), sec. 8003. 103 Thus it was In 1961 that Speaker Unruh was speculating pub- lically about the desirability of giving an explicit legal sanction to preprimary endorsements by official party or gans. By 1963, however, the legislature had arrived at a formula for handling the endorsement problem which preclud ed preprimary endorsements by any official party group. The 1963 legislature also restored the old rule requiring the Democratic state convention to meet in August— a change which insured that, in election years, the convention would meet after the primary. In 1965, the legislature restored another old role by eliminating the requirement for annual meetings of the convention. The convention now meets every two years, just as it did before 1962. After dealing with details pertaining mainly to the certification of delegates' credentials, the Elections Code sets forth the formal procedure of the convention: The convention shall be called to order by the chairmen of the state central committee at 10 o'clock of the morning of the Saturday upon which it is to be held. It shall at once proceed to the election of a temporary chairman by roll call read from the alphabetical roll submitted by the Secre tary of State. The convention shall elect such other temporary officers as the convention may determine. The temporary chairman shall appoiflt a committee consisting of one delegate from each congressional district, which shall serve as the committee on credentials of the convention, and he shall appoint 104 such other temporary officers as the convention may determine. The convention,..upon election of permanent offi cers, shall adopt a state platform for its party, which platform shall be made public not later than 6 o'clock on the afternoon of the following day. H The retiring chairman of the state central commit tee is nominally in charge of making arrangements for the convention and of appointing committee chairmen and mem bers. According to law, he is responsible for the perfor mance of certain formalities: notifying the Secretary of State of the Saturday on which the convention is to be held, signing delegates' credentials, and receiving the certified role from the Secretary of State.^ Usually, the chairman shares the task of planning for the convention and for the state central committee with other party leaders. Notwithstanding legally stipulated duties, however, his role varies. As Cresap reports, some times the chairman has even been excluded from participat ing in convetkhion preparations. In 1934, for example, Upton Sinclair, Democratic candidate for governor and a group of his supporters worked ^ Elections Code (1964), secs. 8019, 8020, 8021. 15Ibld., secs. 8003, 8008, 8010C 16Cresap, op. cit., p. 32. 105 out plans for the convention with George Creel, his leading opponent for the nomination. At a pre-convention meeting held in Pasadena, Sinclair; his running mate, Sheridan Downey; his campaign manager, Richard Otto; and Culbert Olson, Epic nominee for the state senate from Los Angeles County, met with Creel and agreed to a platform which would include the essentials of the Epic program but would omit 17 the details. This group devised a set of arrangements designed to ameliorate the bitter factional disputes that were plaguing the Democratic party. Olson would be the next state chairman; Creel would preside over the conven tion; and other "halfhearted supporters of Sinclair" would be represented on the platform committee. The state chair man at that time, Mark E. Harrison, had no part in these preparations. While there is no enduring pattern of participation in making convention arrangements, the state chairman nor mally enjoys a role more extensive than Chairman Harrison's. Although he is formally responsible for naming the chairmen and members of convention committees, he usually shares this function with the vice-chairman, who is, in fact, ^Ronald E. Chinn, "Democratic Party Politics in California, 1920-1956" (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation. Department of Political Science, university of California, Berkeley, 1958), pp. 91-92. ^^Cresap, loc. cit. 106 chairman of the other regional section of the state central committee. In making these determinations, the chairman and vice-chairman consult with leaders of various interests and party factions and with officeholders and candidates, particularly the governor or gubernatorial candidate. In southern California, where intra-party hostilities preclud ed cooperation between the southern section chairman and the Governor's office from 1964-1966, appointments to the platform committee were decided through consultations be tween the southern chairman and the Speaker's office. Overall planning for the convention and the state committee meeting is typically done in meetings of the state chairman with other party leaders in his own section. For example, in 1958, convention plans were made at a day and a half meeting of northern leaders in the small town of Salinas. Among those who participated were the state chairman, Roger Kent; Don Bradley, executive secretary of the northern section of the state committee) Elizabeth Smith, national committeewoman, Martin Huff, treasurer of the northern section, and Senator George Miller.20 However, the final determination of committee members and chairmen, and speakers was divided between the northern and southern sections, with each section selecting its own people for IQ Ibid.) Interviews with Roger Kent, August f i , 1961; and Carmen Warshaw, August 31, 1970. 20 Interview with Roger Kent, August 8, 1961. 107 its share of assignments. The state chairman, in consultation with the re gional vice-chairman, sometimes selects a pre-convention platform committee to conduct hearings before the conven tion meets. In 1960 and 1962, such a committee, under the chairmanship of Assemblyman Carley Porter, held hearings for interested persons in northern and southern Califor- nia.22 The chairmanship of the platform committee formally alternates between the assembly and the senate and between northern and southern California, but the actual perfor mance of the chairman's role may vary. For instance, in 1962, although State Senator George Miller was the formally appointed chairman of the platform committee, the actual work of the committee was carried on under Carley Porter, 2 3 whose official position was that of vice-chairman. The mechanical details of the convention and state central committee meeting are handled by the executive secretary in each section, with the help of people drawn from state committee headquarters and from the legislative 22 ‘^Remarks by Assemblyman Carley Porter in platform committee hearing, August 24, 1962; minutes of Executive Committee Meeting, March 21, 1962. 2^Remarks by Senator George Miller in platform com mittee hearing, August 24, 1962. 108 staff. These people see to such tasks as making travel ar rangements; making room assignments for committee meetings; printing and distributing convention kits and other materi als; finding hotel accommodations for delegates; making ar rangements for luncheons, banquets, and cocktail parties; and handling press coverage. Staff people also become in volved in doing preparatory research and writing for the platform committee. When the state convention and state committee meetings are attended by important Washington celebrities, the management of these biennial meetings be comes a formidable exercise in logistics and protocol, re quiring from forty to fifty people to carry out staff func tions covering a multitude of details, which may range from insuring that the "right" brand of bourbon is available in the room of an important guest to coordinating activities with the secret service. The mechanical aspects of running the convention and the state committee meetings are not politically in nocuous. When these bodies meet during a period of intra party peace, or even during a period limited warfare, the arrangements may be handled without severe prejudice to anyone's interest. During a period of intense strife, how ever, even the most mundane details of the convention or state committee arrangements may be converted into weapons. Some of the mechanical aspects of the 1966 platform pro- 109 ceedings, for example, were used in the warm-up skirmishes between staff people from the northern and southern section headquarters. Everyone knew that the fight that year was to take place, not over the platform, but over the state chairmanship. And yet northern section staff members made it difficult for southern staff people to obtain copies of proposed planks and, thereby, to keep track of the proceed ings of the platform committee on Friday night and Saturday morning.^ Other aspects of the convention and state committee arrangements are convertible into political resources. Given the scarcity of first rate hotel space within walking distance of the Capitol building, accommodations suitable for meetings, "hospitality hours,” and other operations are at a premium. Thus, the distribution of desirable accom modations may be used to give recognition for a favor done in the past and/or to do a favor which may be redeemed in the future. Moreover, in politics, as in any other social 24 The northern section was in charge of overall planning and management for the 1966 meeting, but the first rough draft of the platform was prepared by two southern section staff members. The problem of monitoring the dis position of proposed planks arose after the rough draft was in the hands of the committee. The southern section had prepared the rough draft on the assumption that everyone would be too preoccupied with the coming chairmanship fight to pay attention to the platform. The assumption was cor rect up until the platform committee convened (personal observation as a member of the state committee staff). 110 activities, status may be measured by the recognition that one receives in the form of an invitation to a more of less exclusive cocktail party or a reservation on the "right" chartered flight. Control over such matters may be used as a means of gaining or solidifying political friend ships. ^ The Convention The significance of the convention cannot be mea sured solely by the formal proceedings that take place in the assembly chamber. The morning and afternoon sessions seem to serve two functions: (1) they fulfill the formula stipulated in the Elections Code; (2) they give restless delegates something to do until the platform committee re ports in the evening. Thus, for example, at 10 a. m. on Saturday, August 25, 1962, delegates congregated in the assembly chamber to witness the formal convening of the convention by retiring state chairman, Roger Kent; the election of Don Rose, can didate for Secretary of State, as temporary chairman; and the formal appointment of the credentials and platform committees. These ceremonies were followed by speeches by party leaders and officeholders, including a major address 25 Personal observation as a member of the state committee staff. Ill by Governor Brown. In the afternoon session, a few dele gates straggled in to elect Lieutenant Governor Glenn Anderson permanent chairman and to listen to announcements. The session adjourned to await the report of the platform committee.^6 Meanwhile, the real work of the convention, the final drafting of the party's platform, was being deligent- ly performed in a legislative committee room. The amount and quality of preparatory work done on the platform varies from convention to convention. On at least two occasions, in 1960 and 1962, the platform committee has held public preplatform hearings in Los Angeles and San Francisco. And, in some years, much of the preparatory work— develop ing a format; soliciting and compiling recommendations from interest groups, government agencies, and academicians; and drafting proposed planks— has been done by members of the state committee staff. The usual pattern is for the pre liminary draft to be worked out by staff people working for the legislature and for the governor or gubernatorial can didate. At this stage, one staff member from each state committee section may be involved in preparatory work. Whatever the nature and extent of such preparations, the platform committee ordinarily holds a hearing in Sacramento 26 Personal observation at the meeting. 112 the evening before the aonvention opens and continues to hear testimony the next morning. Representatives of vari ous economic and social groups appear before the committee to speak on a variety of subjects— agriculture, labor, natural resources, civil rights, fiscal policy, etc* In the afternoon, the committee meets in executive session to 27 hammer out a final draft. The 1962 platform won easy acceptance in an ap parently harmonious convention. This harmony, however, proved to be something of an illusion, temporarily sus tained by transfering consideration of ballot propositions from the platform committee to the resolutions committee of the state central committee. Antagonisms were openly aired when the resolutions committee reported to the state com mittee the next day. The wisdom of postponing consideration of ballot propositions was revealed in the 1960 Democratic conven tions, which was so torn by dissension over a controversial water bond proposition that it failed to complete the plat form. The bonds were intended to finance Governor Brown's extensive water resources development program. The issue of their endorsement in the platform brought the latent north-vouth split within the Democratic party into sharp 27 Personal observation and informal conversations with staff members. 113 focus. Northern California delegates thought that the division of water resources proposed by the Governor's pro gram was unequitable and heatedly resisted an attempt to include endorsement of the bonds in the platform upon which they would have to run. In a platform committee hearing, Ronald G. Cameron of Placer County contended that the con vention's position on Proposition 1 should be expressed by a resolution rather than by a plank in the official plat form: There are enough votes in this convention to en dorse Proposition 1, but it has no place in the platform. It would be embarrassing to Democrats in certain areas to campaign on such a platform. There will be a floor fight to keep the issue out.28 Assemblyman Cameron was supported by Senator Virgil O'Sullivan o< Colusa County, who, like Cameron, had voted against the water bonds in the 1959 legislative session. Assemblyman Carley V. Porter of Los Angeles, chairman of the platform committee, and Assemblyman John Williamson of Kern County insisted that the party should go on record in favor of the bonds.28 This and other controversial questions, particular ly old age assistance and farm labor, consumed so much of 28 "Sacramento Bee, July 20, 1960. 29Ibid. 114 the platform committee's time that it was unable to con clude its deliberations before the adjournment deadline, even though the clock in the assembly chamber was stopped to allow the convention to finish its business within the time limit set by law. The convention adjourned for want of a quorum, with the committee still at work in another part of the capitol.30 Planks on labor, welfare, and governmental organ ization had to be handled by resolution and appended to the platform by the state committee action the following day. The side-tracking of planks relating to labor and social welfare into the resolutions proceedings of the state committee greatly distressed Don Vial of the Califor- 31 nia Labor Federation and pension promoter George McLain. Although the convention endorsed the Governor's water pro gram, it sidestepped a position on the bonds. This too had 32 to be remedied by a state committee resolution. In the election campaign that followed, the Democrats had to suf fer the embarrassment of having their failure to complete the platform exposed, with understandable enthusiasm, by the Republicans. 30Ibid., July 29, 1960. 3^San Francisco Examiner, August 1, 1960. 32Ibid. 115 The 1960 convention conveyed at least three impor tant lessons. One was that, when the party is divided over an issue and there is some compelling reason for an offi cial organization of the Democratic party to take a posi tion on it, the pronouncement is more likely to be made in form of a state committee resolution than is the form of a platform plank. Secondly, ballot propositions, whether they are the objects of intra-party conflict or not, are also more likely to be handled by state committee resolu tion. Thirdly, interest groups attach more importance to the platform than to state committee resolutions, even though the latter are appended to the former in the state committee's publication of the platform. Interest group representatives prefer to have the party's commitment made in the form of a plank, endorsed by nominees for office, than to have it made in the form of a resolution, endorsed by the state committee, a majority of whose members do not hold or seek public office. The first two lessons of the 1960 platform fiasco were reflected in the behavior of several successive con ventions. In the four conventions that were held from 1962 33 through 1966, all but one of the issue controversies that occurred were diverted from the platform proceedings of the 33 Includes the first, and the only, annual meeting. 116 convention to the resolutions proceedings of the state cen tral committee meeting the day following the convention. There were only two exceptions to the general rule that^of- ficial party positions on ballot propositions will be con veyed through resolutions. One was a minor exception, in volving platform endorsement of Propositon 1, the State Park, Recreation and Historical Facilities Bond Act in 34 1964. The other was significant: the 1964 plank on human rights conveyed a clear-cut position in opposition to 35 the highly controversial Proposition 14. It does seem that whenever Democrats come together in one of their biennial convocations, they must have a family fight— over issues, personalities, or party of fices. But this apparently compulsory battle seldom takes place in the convention; it usually occurs in the state committee meeting the day following the convention. Democratic State Central Committee, California Democratic Platform 1964, p. 16. 3SIbid., p. 10. JWThe only exception in the 1960's would be the * = only off-year meeting held under the 1961 Code changes. Two factors may have been responsible for what seems to have been an exceptional instance of harmony: (1) the meetings of the state convention and the state central com mittee were overshadowed by the presence of Vice-president Johnson and a sizable retinue of Washington officials; (2) the state committee was organized into a series of policy seminars, which may have kept those in attendance too busy to fight. 117 The baBic reason why issue conflicts are more likely to be played out in the state central committee than in the con vention lies in the different composition of the two bodies. The convention is the exclusive vehicle of nominees for elective office. The platform proceedings of the con vention are typically conducted in a manner that is both dignified and perfunctory. The nominees usually adopt a platform composed largely of broad, general, ambiguous statements, praising their own accomplishments, denigrating those of the Republicans, and promising "positive" and "constructive" programs for the benefit of farmers, workers, businessmen, the elderly, the young, veterans, ethnic and racial minorities, water users, smog sufferers, and so 37 on. They usually adopt a platform that is either silent on major contemporary issues that divide significant seg ments of the public or mention such issues only in terms of problems that require attention. When these nominees eschew a significant issue or 37 This point about the character of the "issue positions" which are taken by parties and politicians is developed, with simple and compelling logic, by Lewis A. Froman, Jr., People and Politics: An Analysis of the American Party gystem, (Englewood cults, New Jerseyi 1962), pp. 96-98, XTso see Anthony Down*, An Economic Theory of Democracy (New Yorki Harper & Row, Publishers, 1957), pp. 13^-139; and Gerald M, Poraper, Elections in Americat Control and Influence in Democratic iftoiitics (New York: Dodd, Mead 6 Company, 1968), pp. 149-168. X18 deal with It in an evasive way, we may reasonably assume that their actions are calculated to do them the most good 38 (or the least harm) on election day* The adoption of a platform requires nominees seeking election in a variety of constituencies to reach a collective decision on issues, which, partly because of constituency differences, often divide them. It is no wonder, then, that the total product of their efforts usually lacks a programmatic content which is addressed, specifically and directly, to divisive ques tions. The self-conscious remarks of platform committee members, often volunteered in response to a witness' demand that the committee take a clear and unequivocal position on an issue, emphasize the need for compromise in drafting a platform "under which all Democrats can work."39 This seems to represent the prevailing conception of the plat form committee1s role and the main principle governing most of its work. While putting a preponderant emphasis on compromise 3®The assumption that candidates (at least winning ones) believe that issue positions are related to electoral success finds some warrant in John W. Kingdon, Candidates for Office! Beliefs and Strategies (New York: handom House, Inc., 1966), pp. 22-28. 39 Remarks by Carley Porter at platform committee hearing, August 24, 1962. The same conception of the plat form committee's role was reflected in the informal remakks made by other members of the committee. 119 and ambiguity for the sake of unity and electoral viability, members of the platform committee occasionally have conced ed the desirability of being "as clear and direct as pos- 40 sible." And, in some areas of public policy, the Demo cratic platform has offered specific and concrete pro posals, some even pertaining to controversial questions. This has been true, most often, of the plankd in the dis tributive areas of labor and social welfare, reflecting the 41 Democratic party's center of gravity in the electorate. The 1962 labor plank, for example, contained detailed and, for the most part, unambiguous proposals for changes in the workmen's compensation program and several specific pro posals to extend state laws regulating industrial safety, workmen's compensation, and minimum wages and working con ditions to farm workers. The 1962 platform was also relatively specific and unambiguous in expressing a commit ment to improve old age assistance programs* The 1964 plat>- form was not quite as specific in the areas of labor and 41 The specificity of these planks conforms to Pomper's findings for national platforms ( op. cit., pp. 165, 172). Pomper, however, also found a relatively High degree of specificity in national planks on resources. Democratic state platforms on natural resources usually concentrate on a recitation of past accomplishments. The relative vague ness of pledges in the resources area may grow out of the north-south split over the development of water resources. Another area of relative specificity, in both state and national platforms, is that of agriculture. 120 social welfare, but the language still conveyed some un mistakable commitments in these areas. Perhaps the most notable of the party's recent ac complishments in being "clear and direct" was the 1964 platform's straightforward opposition to Proposition 14, a ballot initiative to repeal the Rumford Act and other leg islation banning discrimination in the sale and rental of housing and to prevent state and local governments from enacting such legislation in the future. This was followed by an equally notable accomplishment in symbolic equivoca tion in the 1966 platform's retreat from unqualified sup port of the Rumford Act as a result of the electorate's overwhelming support of Proposition 14. The collective agonizing over the human rights plank at the 1966 convention provided the only recent ex ception to the rule that unavoidable issue conflicts will be side-tracked to the resolutions activities of the state central committee. It also exhibited a pattern of platform writing that is far more common than that followed in the drafting oif the 1964 plank on human rights. The 1964 con vention had violated the rule of equivocation or omission, which has generally governed the behavior of the platform convention when confronted with a controversial question. It had taken a forthright and well-publicized stand on the 121 losing side of a highly charged issue.42 By so doing, the delegates of 1964 put those of 1966 into a corner. The 1966 convention could not flout the overwhelm ing vote for repeal of the Rumford Act. On the other hand, a complete about-face on the Rumford Act would provoke a blast of adverse publicity and, perhaps, serve only to re mind the voters that the Democratic party had been on the "wrong” side of the issue in 1964 and to arouse the enmity of the party's Negro constituents. Moreover, such a move, if it were endorsed by the platform committee, would cer tainly result in a bitter and prolonged fight on the con vention floor. Such a fight would be sure to have damaging consequences in terms of both press coverage and intra party relationships* Ignoring the issue entirely might well have the same results as a plank advocating repeal. Faced with such unpalatable alternatives, the 1966 platform committee did the only thing it could do and what the great majority of delegates seemed to expect it to do: it tried to defuse the issue with semantic ambiguity. The 1966 human rights plank, as drafted $>y the platform committee, expressed opposition to the repeal of "existing laws aimed at eliminating discrimination based upon race, color, re- 42 **One party leader explained the unusual behavior of the 1964 convention as the result of overconfidence in the expectation of a big electoral victory {Interview with Carmen Warshaw, August 31, 1970). 122 43 ligion, national origin, or ancestry." The equivocation lay in the omission of any reference to the Rumford Act (or even to the subject of discrimination in housing) and in the next sentence: "We stand ready at all times to amend and improve such laws to insure their equitable ap- 44 plication to all citizens." This was the carefully worded dodge the committee worked out to disarm the Rumford issue. But two events threatened to undermine their efforts. One was Governor Brown's keynote address to the convention on Saturday morn ing. The Governor promised to appoint a bipartisan commis sion of "the state's most outstanding citisens to consider amendments to or a substitute for the Rumford Act."45 Brown's statement was received with silence by all but a few delegates. It was the Governor's use of the word, "substi tute," that created a problem for the platform committee, which was still in the process of deliberating on the plat form. The committee did. net want to write a plank at odds with the Governor's position, but neither did it want to put the Democratic party on record as favoring repeal of M O ''Personal observation at the platform committee meeting, August 13, 1966. 44Ibid. 45Personal observation at the convention meeting, August 13, 1966; San Francisco Examiner, August 14, 1966. 123 the Rumford Act, a position which would be implied by the adoption of the Governor's language. The chairman of the platform committee, State Senator Walter Stiern of Kern County, stated the committee's dilemma: "We want to have continuity between the platform and Governor but we're at loggerheads over the word 'substitute.'"4® Senator Stiern, supported by comments from other members of the committee, complained that adoption of the Govennor's phraseology would "repeat the stand in the Republican platform."47 After some strained discussion, in which principle contin ued to be tested upon the rack of semantics, the committee memberd decided that their original wording of the human rights plank would provide "a bridge" to Governor Brown's position. Senator Stiern conceded "but it's a shaky bridge." The chairman's remarks clearly indicated, further, that the Governor had not consulted members of the platform committee in any effort to bring his position and that of the convention into congruence. No one took exception to these remarks during the platform hearing, but they were later denied by Assemblyman Winfield Shoemaker of Santa if ^Personal observation at the platform committee meeting, August 13, 1966. 47 The Republican convention had promised to work for repeal and replacement or amendment of the Rumford Act San Francisco Examiner, August 14, 1966. 124 Barbara, who was co-chairman of the platform committee. Shoemaker said that the Governor's staff had worked closely with the committee. In speaking to reporters, whose ques tions indicated that they were probing for signs of a schism between Governor Brown and other delegates to the convention, Shoemaker said that there was "no contradic tion" between the Governor's position and that of the com mittee. He pointed out that "any law can stand amendment or improvement."*** Shoemaker explained that ha interpreted "substitute" to mean "amendment." He did not explain why the Governor's statement, which was prepared and delivered with obvious care, included both words. He left the whole matter in a condition of ambiguity, with the explanation that the plank written by the coimnittee meant the same thing as the Governor's statement. The comments of the platform committee members during the hearing had evidenced their belief that the two statements did not mean the same thing. Another, less difficult, problem was encountered when the human rights plank was presented to the convention. Assemblyman William Dannemeyer of Fullerton moved to amend the plank to advocate repeal of the Rumford Act. After a brief but emotional debate, the convention overwhelmingly 48 Personal observation. 125 rejected Dannemeyer's motion and approved the plank as drafted by the platform committee. Two points about the convention's experiences with the Rumford Act and Proposition 14 deserve emphasis. One is the lack of consultation between the Governor and the platform committee on so sensitive a subject as the Rumford Act prior to the formulation and issuance of public pro- 49 nouncements. Both the Governor's statement on the Rum ford Act and the platform committee’s human rights planR were prepared with obvious care, indicating a shared aware ness that what the party conveyed about its position on the Rumford Act was a matter of some importance. Moreover, it was to be expected that any statement on the subject, whether issued by the Governor or by the convention, would receive close scrutiny by the press. In view of these circumstances, the lack of communication between the plat form coimnittee and Governor Brown throws into sharp relief the importance that was attached to the fight over the 49 One major text has cited, as an exanple of guber natorial leadership in the platform convention, Governor Brown's 1966 speech, in which he urged the convention to draft "a strong, vital, and specific platform." It de scribes the convention as acting "in deference to his wishes" by promulgating "a long and detailed platform filled with flattering references to the achievements of the Brown administration" (fee John R. Owens, Edmond Costantini, and Louis F. Weschler, California Politics (London: The Macmillan Company, 1970), p. 189). It should be noted, however, that most of the planks were written be fore the Governor's speech. 126 chairmanship, that was to be waged on Sunday. What appears to have happened is that experienced members of the Gover nor's staff, who might normally have been maintaining some surveillance over the platform proceedings, were totally preoccupied with preparations for the chairmanship battle. There is no evidence that the platform committee was out to embarrass the Governor * Nor is there any evidence that the Governor was intent on putting himself at odds with the convention. The importance of coordination on the human rights plank simply gave way before the greater importance that Governor Brown's top political advisors attached to the fight for control of the state committee. The other point is that the Democratic party might have avoided some of the problems it encountered in 1966 if the delegates of 1964 had remembered the lesson of 1960 and had handled the explosive question of Proposition 14 and the Rumford Act through a state committee resolution. To be sure, the lesson of 1960 was not strictly applicable to the circumstances of 1964. In 1960 the question of how to handle the water bonds endorsement involved a split within the party. This was not the case in the heady at mosphere of 1964; there is no evidence of an intra-party fight over the human rights plank at the 1964 convention. As the subsequent election was to show, the schism was be tween Democratic leaders and a sizable proportion of the 127 50 Democratic electorate. If the delegates of 1964 experi enced an irresistible compulsion to say something about the Rumford Act or Proposition 14, their statement might well have been a broad and general one opposing discrimination in housing, Specific references to the Rufiford Act or to Proposition 14, if they had to be made, might well have been confined to a state committee resolution. As the example of 1964 indicates, Democratic state platforms are not invariably silent or evasive on divisive questions. Usually, however, if an issue surfaces at all at a biennial meeting, the state central committee is more likely to grapple with it than the convention. The basic reason why the state committee is more likely to be an arena for issue conflict is that its membership includes, not only nominees, but appointees, who represent a wide range of interests and points of view in the Democratic party— ethnic and racial minorities, organized labor, extra- legal party organizations businessmen, farmers, and so on. Occasionally, these appointees exhibit orderings of priori ties that are somewhat different from those of the nominees: they exhibit concern about the impact of the party's issue 50 Totton J. Anderson and Eugene C. Lee, "The 1964 Election in California," Western Political Quarterly, 18 {June, 1965), pp. 466, 470-471. This appears to nave been a spectacular instance of nonconformity to a "party-ration- ality" model of platform-writing behavior. See Pomper, op. cit., pp. 152-164. 128 positions on its chances at the poftls but they sometimes give higher priority to the impact of issues on the various interests and clienteles, whom they represent. Consequent ly, the state committee is somewhat more open to issue con flicts than the convention. This does not mean that all, or even most, of the Btate committee's resolutions are ad dressed to important questions of public policy. The great majority of resolutions are conventional statements of pride in the achievements of the Democratic party and crit icism of the opposition's failings. It does mean that, when Democrats ftiel that they must fight about an issue, the battleground is likely to be the state committee. Even when the state committee's resolution committee attempts to side-step a divisive question, its efforts can be under mined by the fact that resolutions may be brought before the state committee meeting by a petition signed by one- 51 hundred members. Aside from the characteristics of the convention's platform proceedings and the state committee's resolutions proceedings, which have been noted above, there are only three important differences between platform planks and resolutions. First, state committee resolutions are more often addressed to questions of national policy than plat- 5^"By-laws" (1965), sec. 16. 129 form planks. Since this increases the scope and variety of the state committee's concerns, it also increases opportun ities for issue conflicts. Secondly, resolutions are used for more direct partisan attacks on individuals, actions, and ideologies than platform planks. Thirdly, state com mittee resolutions give far less comprehensive and system atic coverage to major areas of state policy than the platform. The Platform Critics of the American party system often single out platform-writing as being a useless and absurd ritual which produces little more than a compendium of "official" ambiguities, equivocations, evasions, inconsistencies, and omissions.^ According to the standard catalogue of short* 52 A comprehensive criticism of American party plat forms and proposals for their improvement were presented in the report of the Committee on Political Parties of the American Political Science Association, "Toward a More Re sponsible Two-Party System," American Political Science Review, 44 (September, 1950), Supplement. The classical condemnation of platforms may be found in M. Ostrogorki, Democracy and the Organization of Political Parties, ed. by Seymour Martin Lipset, Anchor Books (Garden City, rtew York; Doubleday £ Company, Ind., 1944), II, pp. 138-139. The classical defense of platforms may be found in E. Pendleton Herring, The Politics of Democracy (New York; Rinehart f c Company, Inc., 1940), pp. 236-307. Other defenders include Herbert Agar, The Price of Union (Boston; Houghton Mifflin Company, 1950), pp. 346-347; V. O. Key, Jr., Politics, Parties and Pressure Groups (5th ed. j New Yorlcl TKomas Y. Crowell Company, 1958), pp. 421-422; and Hugh A. Bone, 130 comings, platforms present neither definitive declarations of principle nor coherent and consistent statements of pub lic policy. Consequently, they fail to provide the voter with the information that he needs to make rational choices between alternative principles, policies, and programs. Such general broadsides need to be examined and re evaluated in the light of systematic scrutiny of party platforms. Recent evidence suggests that some qualifica tions are in order. Gerald Pomper, for example, has demon strated, through a content analysis of national platforms from 1944 through 1966, that these are complex documents containing many kinds of statements, some of which are lit tle more than vacuous rhetoric but most of which can pro- C 1 vide bases for making rational electoral choices. Pomper found that platforms vary considerably in the specificity and relevance of their programmatic content, depending upon a party's campaign strategy and upon the kind of policy American Politics and the Party System (New York: McGraw- Hill Book Company,lWc., 1949), pp. 550-554. Unfortunately, criticisms are in far greater supply than systematic studies. Among the limited number of plat form studies are Edward F. Cooke, "Drafting the 1952 Plat forms," Western Political Quarterly, 9 (September, 1956), pp. 699-712; Paul T. David, Ralph M. Goldman, and Richard C. Bain, The Politics of National Party Conventions, 1960 (Washington, D.C.: Brookings Institution, i960); chaps. 6-9; Kirk H. Porter and Donald B. Johnson, National Party Platforms, 1840-1964 (Urbana: University of Illinois Press imr:— ‘ ----- 53 Pomper, op. cit., pp. 155-169, 175-178. 131 area involved. He concluded that, while platforms are de signed to serve the cause of "party-rationality" and, con sequently, exhibit some much criticized characteristics which are derived from the primary goal of electoral suc cess, they are sufficiently specific in their statements of policy objectives and intentions to contribute to the cause of "voter-rationality."54 It seems clear that American party platforms are not consistently guilty of all of the charges that have been made against them. Still, it must be conceded that a large, if not overwhelming, proportion of the verbiage 55 found in these wordy documents consists of platitudinous rhetoric which is virtually empty of content that is mean ingful in terms of voter choices.56 Such rhetoric may serve the cause of party unity or it may allow a party to prudently circumnavigate an issue that divides significant segments of the electorate. Whatever its purpose, it does provide a foundation for complaints that platforms fall short of the standards required for a rational issue choice 54 Ibid., pp. 151-153. Pomper's concept of "rationality" is derived from Downs, loc. cit. 55Key, op. cit., p. 421. Key reports that the 1960 Democratic platform ran to 15,000 words. According to Frank J. Sorauf ( Party Politics in America [Boston: Lit tle, Brown and Company, 1968], p. 202), the 1964 platform ran to 20,000 words* 56Pomper, op*' cit., p. 176. 132 between parties. In all probability, state platforms are open to the same criticisms as national ones. Unfortunately, there are no systematic studies of state platforms available to pro vide a basis for judgment. The discussion of Democratic conventions in California does indicate, however, that many of the charges which have been levelled against national platforms can be levelled, with at least equal cogency, against those issued by California Democrats. That discus sion also suggests that these criticisms are subject to the same qualifications. The platforms of the Democratic party of California have spoken forthrightly and specifically on certain issues, usually those distributive issues on which the party has maintained a traditional stance. Indeed, as Frank Sorauf has observed in discussing national platforms, Democratic state platforms may even be criticized for being too spe~ 57 cific. If the 1964 Democratic national convention went too far down the path of specificity in discussing the kilowatts of non-federal hydro-electric generating capacity licensed recently by the Federal Power Comnission, then it is fair to say that the 1962 Democratic state convention went a bit overboard in discussing the party's contribution 57 Sorauf, op. cit., p. 283. 133 CO to the heroic fight against the Oriental fruit fly. The 1964 human rights plank suggests, moreover, that state platforms do not invariably shun straightforward positions on issues about which public sentiments are both divided and intense. If California Democrats had been act ing in conformity with Pomper*s model of "party-rationalit}f the 1964 plank on human rights would have resembled that of 1966, even if one takes into account the concessions that a party might make to the views of a "passionate minority."^9 Notwithstanding such exceptions, the platforms of the state pprty, like those of the national party, contain a substan tial proportion of meaningless rhetoric. In the absense of any comparative data, it is im possible to say whether or not the platforms drafted by California Democrats are more of less bague, inconsistent, evasive, or equivocal than those of other state parties. Certain features of California's political history would suggest, however, that party platforms in this state are probably more vulnerable than those drafted in states with a stronger partisan tradition to complaints which emphasize the failure of platforms to maximize the conditions of voter-rationality. Given the "causes" to which the defects 58 Ibid.t Democratic State Central Committee, California~5e»ocratic Platform 1962, p. 3. e g Pomper, op. cit., pp. 154, 169-170. 134 of national platforms are so often ascribed, we might rea sonably expect to find that in California, where cross filing so long obscured party lines and where nonpartisan ship has been a mantle so long cherished by politicians, the party platform has been the archtype of the most se verely criticized features of American party platforms. Few scholars assign any importance to them. One scholarly observer of California politics, in a typical commentary* dismisses platforms as being "typically general, ambiguous, and platitudinous and not particularly important or obliga tory."®® Another issues an indictment against them in more forceful terms: Political platforms are usually filled with glit tering generalities, cliches, platitudes, and 'weasel' pronouncements that are designed to mean all things to all men. Fearing to offend impor tant groups of voters, parties seldom take stands in their platforms on controversial issues. Few voters bother.to read the platforms, and with good reason. Part of this view finds confirmation in the remark# of Assemblyman Carley Porter, who served as chairman of the platform committee in 1960 and vice-chairman in 1962. When ®®Richard B. Harvey, The Dynamics of California Government and Politics (Belmont, California: Wadsworth Publishing Company, Inc., 1970), p. 18. 61Joseph H. Harris, California Politics (4th ed.; San Francisco: Chandler Publishing Company, 1967), p. 57* 135 a witness before the committee confessed ignorance of the 1960 platform, Porter responded that "nobody reads the 62 platforms anyway, which hurts some of us. Even while admitting the lack of public attention to the platform, however. Porter was one of the harder working chairmen of the platform committee. Of all the many factors offered in explanation of the deficiencies of state party organization,**3 two relate most directly to the platform process. These suggest that state conventions will be, as a rule, even less successful than national conventions in formulating platforms that are sufficiently specific, policy-oriented, and relevant to the voter's concerns to provide an adequate basis for issue-re lated electoral choices. One factor is the tendency of national affairs to overshadow the concerns of state governments, especially when the former involve the critical challenges of foreign affairs and, ultimately, the survival of mankind in the atomic age. The continuing international crises; the na tional character of the American economy; the sprawling and 62 Remarks by Carley Porter at platform committee hearing, August 24, 1962. 63The most comprehensive and systematic discussion is still that offered by V. 0. Key, Jr., American State Politics; An Introduction (new York; Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1956). See also Sorauf, op. cit., especially chap. iii. 136 chaotic growth of metropolitan complexes; the national status of pressing domestic problems, such as race, poverty, pollution, and transportation, have combined to drive mat* ters formerly within the purview of state government beyond its competence. Popular attention has tended to focus upon the dramatic issues that are the objects of national con* cern and to ignore those within the constitutional and fis cal capacities of the states. The lack of public attention to state affairs offers little incentive to use the plat form as a vehicle for policy initiatives or for a well- developed enunciation of the party's positions.®* The second factor is the direct primary, which has largely supplanted the state convention, even as a channel for formulating and articulating party principles and pro grams. When a candidate is nominated before the convention meets, his pre-primary speeches tend to become the platform. When the convention does meet, it is unlikely to draft a platform which repudiates the positions taken by its candi dates, who have been nominated by the party's voters.®® ®*Given the often observed tendency of state gov ernments, as well as local ones, to seek solutions for their problems in Washington, it is not surprising to find that about half of the planks in the Democratic state plat forms contain at least one reference to what the federal government is doing or should be doing about various policy problems. ®5Charles E. Merriam and Harold F. Gosnell, The American Party System; An Introduction to the Study of 137 Its job is to produce the "glittering generalities" that represent the currently operating consensus within the party and that smooth over the cleavages that can be fatal to the party in an election campaign. In California, additional factors have reduced the ability of the state convention to ennunciate clear and consistent policies and programs. A strong non-partisan tradition, coupled with cross-filing, made association with a partisan platform almost a handicap in campaigns. One symptom of the imgtaet of non-partisanship on the status of party policy declarations was the successful gubernatorial campaign of Edmund G. Brown in 1958. Democrat Brown sought to shape his image in the mold of two popular Republicans. In a characteristic statement, he announced: "I intend to guide our state in the great tradition of Earl Warren and Hiram Johnson.Demonstrating his allegiance to the non partisan tradition, which Johnson initiated and Warren so successfully exploited, Brown refrained from officially en dorsing his party's platform. Political Parties in the United states {4th ed.; New York: The Macmillan dompany, 1949), p. 76. tor analyses of the effects of the direct primary on party organization see V. 0. Key, Jr., "The Direct Primary and Party Structure: A Study of State Legislative Nominations," American Political Science Review, 48 (March, 1954), pp. 1-26. ^Quoted in Owens, Costantini, and Weschler, op. cit.. p. 114. 138 Perhaps Brown learned his lesson from the experi ences of another Democratic governor in California, Culbert Olson, who made the mistake of taking the Democratic plat form seriously. He looked upon it as "both a sacred pledge 67 and a solemn obligation." When Democratic legislators refused to help him implement it, he tried to purge them. The purge failed and Olson's ddministration succumbed to an ignominious fate. In his first inaugural address in 1911, Hiram Johnson declared that "there can be no partisan approach to 6 f t state lawmaking." The Johnson dictum ruled legislative politics in California until recent years. Until the abo lition of cross-filing, accountability for legislative ac tion was virtually impossible to establish, and lobbying filled the vacuum left by the absence of party responsibil ity. As late as 1959, seventeen of the twenty-seven Demo crats in the senate had won the Republican nomination as well as their own. In the assembly, where only nine of the forty-five Democrats had won the Republican nomination, the party situation was less confusing, but even there partisan €9 lines were often blurred by other, more salient divisions. -------------- Robert E. Burke, Olson's New Deal for California (Berkeley and Los Angeles: trniversfty of California Press, 1953), p. 232. 6Q Harris, op. cit., p. 62. 6 Q Crouch, op. cit., p. 59. 139 Democrats elected as successful cross-filers in the primary were not likely to give much weight to their party’s plat form, even if they did write themselves. Moreover, in their pursuit of the Republican nomination, they were un likely to write planks which were addressed to controver sial issues. An ambiguous and platitudinous platform suit ed their needs, and such a platform could hardly guide their legislative decisions. A generation of one-party rule in California gave the Johnson rule even greater force. From 1900 to 1958, Republican control over state government was broken only once, from 1938 to 1942, when Democrats held the governor ship. The Democrats won narrow majorities in the assembly in three elections, 1936 to 1940, but the state senate re mained under Republican control for more than sixty years 70 until 1958. A handful of Democratic legislators could not be expected to press for the enactment of the Demo cratic platform. Democratic partisanship tended to be oriented to the national scene, where the party held sway from 1932 to 1952 rather than to the state political arena, which was a Republican monopoly. Most of the significant cleavages over state issues occurred between factions of the Republican party, not between Democrats and Republicans, ^Harris, op. cit., p. 13. 140 In such a situation, the Democratic platform, dutifully drafted at the biennial convention, could command neither legislative commitment nor popular interest. Until relatively recently, party labels imposed no responsibility to partisan principles, policies, or pro grams on legislators. Since 1958, however, there has been a resurgence of partisanship in the legislature. The de velopment of a more closely competitive twm-party system, the emergence of a vigorously partisan leadership in the assembly, and the possibility of party becoming more im portant in the senate as a result of reapportionment may presage an ehhanced role for convention in setting guide lines for public policy* The platform was neither meaning less nor ignored when, during the 1959 session, Majority Floor Leader William A. Munnell, who was also Democratic state chairman, presented bills dealing with each major plank in the platform to his party's caucus in the assem- 71 bly. The long-term effects of such developments could stimulate heightened interest in the Democratic convention as an arena wherein factions of the Democratic party may work out the operative consensus on state issues. The convention is not the only party agency which 71 Totton J. Anderson, "California: Enigma of National Politics," in Western Politics 4d. by Frank M. Jonas, (Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1961), p. 95. 141 engages in the platform-related activities of developing and articulating positions on public policy. The state committee and its executive committee often issue policy statements in the form of resolutions. Those considered at the biennial state committee meeting are sometimes mention ed in the press under the rubric of the official platform and sometimes receive more news coverage than the platform itself. Policy positions are also developed and delineated at legislative conferences, candidate seminars, workshops, and similar special events, which are often sponsored by the state committee. Some of these programs have been ex ceptionally well prepared and have given local party lead ers educational exposure to serious explorations of prob lems and proposed solutions in areas such as natural re sources development and consumer protection by administra tive and legislative experts drawn from both state and fed- 72 eral government. The value of such programs has been evidenced by frequent requests for transcripts of the dis cussions from government officials as well as from local party leaders. These special events serve, most often, to publicize the goals, programs, and accomplishments of Demo cratic officeholders and to mobilize support for them. The sources from which expertise has been drawn have depended on the party's incumbency in elective office. 142 Of all the major agents of policy development and articula tion, the proclamations of the party's officeholders and candidates, particularly the governor or gubernatorial can didate, receive the most attention in the mass media and contribute most to the public's conception of the party's principles and programs. The convention and other official party agencies have had a vigorous competitor in the business of acting as the voice of the Democratic party— the issues program of the California Democratic Council (CDC). While this study does not contemplate an assessment of the relative merits of products, a brief description of the CDC program might offer an instructive design for comparison.7* * The CDC issues program has had two purposes: to educate members and the public at large and to give members an opportunity to influence Democratic party policy. The issues convention has utilized a complex system of discus sion groups organized around broad topics: foreign policy, public finance, economic problems, election reform, human rights, natural resources, and population growth. Before the convention met, delegates would receive study kits to help them prepare for the discussions. In the morning ses sion of the convention, delegates heard lectures in the 73 The description that follows applies to the CDC issues program as i£ functioned prior to 1966. 143 area they had selected and then congregated in small sec tions for discussion of various subtopics. Each section was led by a moderator, who was assisted by one or more resource people. In the evening, participants would gather with the general topic area chairman to work out a state ment of policy consensus. These policy statements were later the objects of debate and resolutions in a plenary 74 session. The structure of the Democratic party has included no formal mechanism for integrating the drafting of the "official" platform with the issues program.75 Office holders and candidates have participated in the CDC pro gram, and CDC notables have appeared before platform com mittee hearings and have sat on the state central commit tee's resolutions committee. But officeholders and candi dates were vastly outnumbered at the CDC issues convention. 7*The8e topic areas varied from^one conference to another. The material on the CDC program is derived from Dickinson May, "The California Democratic Council" (a term paper written at the University of California, Berkeley, June, 1959); and from articles in the Liberal Democrat. The CDC issues program had critics within the organization. See, for example, Marshall Windmiller, "CDC Retreats on Foreign Policy," Liberal Democrat, April, 1961, pp. 3-5; and Rudy Nothenberg, "The Right Kind of Issues Program," Liberal Democrat, March, 1963, pp. 7-8. 75 For an example of anstate party system which did attempt to integrate an issues program with the official platform-drafting process, see Robert Lee Sawyer, Jr., The Democratic State Central Committee in Michigan. 1949-1959: The Rise of the New Politics and the New Political Leader ship (Ann Arbor; Institute of Public Administration, Uni- versity of Michigan, 1960), pp. 101, 113, 167-169, 201-203. 144 Consequently, although they were able to moderate contro versial resolutions, the results often caused them public embarrassment. On the other hand, volunteer organizations have had no formal representation on the platform committee or in the convention. The question of who shall speak for the Democratic party has been a touchy subject in California. The CDC tried to forestall criticism of its efforts to influence policy by avoiding competition with the official platform: The issues phase of the 1959 convention is not for the purpose of drafting a platform or a set of plans. Rather, its purpose is to stimulate, edu cate, and inform the membership, and through them, the electorate at large. Any statement that may be made shall be made only for the purpose of serving the above-stated major purpose. On the other hand, the organization was adamant in pro claiming its right to influence the direction of party policy. This right was firmly asserted in the preamble to the report of the resolutions committee in 1959: This council has demanded and earned and won the right to have a major voice in the affairs of the Democratic Party in Califoonia. This council has assumed the right and responsibility of help ing to give direction to the platform, programs, and conduct of our party.77 7®May, op. cit., p. 35, citing California Democrat ic Council, "Report of the Resolutions Committee," Fresno, Calif., March 14, 1959, (Mimeographed.) 77Ibid., p. 37. 145 The preamble went on to declare that "legislators must be urged to stand up and be counted on matters urged by the party platform and by good conscience."7® This sort of statement was regarded as a threat by many officeholders, who saw in it an attempt by CDC to dictate policy to them. They felt especially menaced when the issues program was combined with the CDC endorsement program, with its implicit threat of reprisal against in cumbents who vote contrary to either the official platform or CDC resolutions. Incumbents have contended that, since they are responsible for implementing the program, they ought to write it. Since the policies advocated by CDC represented the views of only one of the many groups that comprise the Democratic electoral coalition, officeholders resented what they construed as attempts to impose these policies on them as legislative imperatives.79 It should be recognized that the dispute between CDC and elective officeholders and candidates arose, in part, out of different assessments of the necessity and desirability of stimulating and sustaining rank-and-file 78Ibid. 79See Francis Carney, The Rise of Democratic Clubs in California (New York: Holt, Rinehart and winstbn, inc., 1958), pp. $-10; May, op. cit., pp. 45-49; Jesse Unruh, "The Future of Preprimary indorsements," Liberal Democrat, March, 1961, pp. 5-6. 146 participation in party affairs. Such assessments have de pended on at least two factors: (1) the relative weights assigned to the ends of electoral effectiveness, on the one hand, and of intra-party democracy and mass participa tion, on the other hand; (2) varying perceptions of the instrumental relationships between these two sets of values. If popular participation is accepted as either a means or an end, then the motivational and educational value of an issues program, which gives the rank-and-file a role in the policy process, may be conceded. Given the absence of patronage and the socioeconomic characteristics and issue-orientation of contemporary political activists, participation in public policy development may be the most effective incentive the party has to stimulate and sustain grass-roots involvement and electoral activity. * * 0 f f l b e may also concede that the inclusion of experts, as resource people in policy groups, can being the benefits of know ledge and experience to deliberations by both candidates SI and amateur activists on complex subjects. On the other hand, it is difficult to deny office holders and candidates a major, if not monopolizing, role 80 Cf. Sawyer, op. cit., pp. 78-80, 227. ®^Cf. Jesse Unruh's announcement that he was in viting experts from institutions of higher learning to con duct seminars for committee chairmen ( Los Angeles Times, January 20, 1963). 147 in determining the content of a platform upon which they may be called to stand. It is also difficult to ask a candidate to support, verbally or legislatively, a plank which might cost him a substantial number of votes in his constituency. One way out of the dilemma might be a measure of integration between the issues program and the platform convention. An issues phase, expanded both with respect to representation and the time devoted to discussion and study of topic areas could serve as a beneficial overture to the platform convention. Statements of consensus emanating from the issues program might serve as at least part of the agenda considered by the platform committee. A measure of both equity and unity might be served by expanding the mem bership of the convention to include representatives of un official party organizations, as well as of other special groups which contribute to the party's electoral well-being. Prudence might be served by assuring incumbents and candi dates a preponderant voice in the final determination of * the platform. Programs which have made the issues conference an integral part of the platform process have been tried by 82 the Democratic party in several states, most notably by 82 Democratic National Committee, "Platform-building Programs Sponsored by Democratic State Central Committees," 1959. (Mimeographed.) 148 the Democratic Party of Michigan.Such programs have been endorsed by the Democratic National Committee as a means of maximizing the following advantages: In the first place it insures a healthy grass roots influence in the making of the platform, and reduces the possibility that the final platform can be criticized as unrepresentative or as hast ily drafted by a small group just before presenta tion to the state convention. The second value of platform building is closely related to the first: the platform, as a document expressing the philosophy and goals of the Party, takes on a greater meaning for the can didates, the Party workers, and the public at large when it is constructed carefully and thoughtfully during the months before the convention. A third advantage claimed for platform build ing is the opportunity it provides for building Party organization. It gives a sense of partici pation and responsibility to veteran workers throughout the Party structure, and also tends to bring into Party work new people whose interests are then expanded from issues and policy to other Party work such as canvassing and campaigning. Finally, the platform building program has been an excellent source of good publicity both because it is oriented around issues and policy, and because the activity spreads out over several months and involves many individuals in various parts of the state. If most scholarly observers of California politics do not consider the platform to be important, many politi cians do. Northern legislators at the 1960 convention, for example, did not dismiss lightly the damage that a platform 83 Sawyer, loc. cit. Qi Democratic National Committee, loc. cit. 149 endorsement of the water bonds could do to their electoral chances, whether they chose to run on the platform or not. The deferral by the 1960 convention of planks on labor and welfare to the state committee provoked responses from Interest group representatives, which clearly indicated that they considered a platform commitment affecting their special clienteles to be important, at least more important than a commitment expressed in the form of a resolution. The press scruntinized every word of the human rights plank in 1966 in an effort to trace the party's precarious stance on the emotionally loaded Rumford issue in the forthcoming campaign. Another indication of the importance that politi cians attach to the platform can be found in the fact that experienced Democrats, who have toiled in the sterile vine yards of party reform, have exhibited strong interest in improving the process whereby it is produced. Members of the state committee's committee on election codd* reform in 1966 expressed the belief, which is also reflected in the words of the national committee as quoted above, that a primary value of the platform lies in the fact that "Demo- 85 crats are issue-motivated." The members of this commit- ®*Personal observation as secretary to the commit tee on election code reform. The comments quoted are those of Leon Cooper, who was chairman of this committee and who later became chairman of the southern section. The senti- 150 tee agreed, moreover, that the present platform process does not fulfill the needs of issue-oriented Democrats partly because "it is the product of a weekend operation." They generally agreed that it would be desirable to broaden participation in what should be a continuous process of platform consideration. At this point, however, the discussion stalled be cause changes in the platform process were perceived as be ing fused with a thorough restructuring of party organiza tion. Any discussion that progressed beyond a statement of goals to a consideration of means might well have divided the committee, whose membership included representatives of incumbent officeholders and of CDC. The most divisive question, which was never broached, was who would determine the content of the final product. Interestingly enough, the oommittee's discussion of the platform never focused, as scholarly discussions tend to do, on the quality of the final product or on its contributions to voter-rationality. The central concern was with the process of platform-build ing as a motivational device. ments expressed by the chairman were generally shared by the other members of the committee. 151 Note on the Selection of Candidates for Presidential Elector The Elections Code charges the state convention with one other function: "In each year of the general election at which electors of President and Vice President of the United States are to be chosen, the convention shall also nominate as the candidates of its party as many elec tors... as the State is then entitled to."®® The usual procedure for selecting candidates is to have the convention delegates meet in congressional district caucuses to select a candidate for each district.®^ These choices are then formally nominated by the convention. Even though the presidential elector performs a routine task, the role carries prestige and is often coveted. Nomination is frequently used as a reward for party service. **®Elections Code (1964), sec. 8022. ®7Cresap, op. cit.. p. 40; personal observation. CHAPTER IV THE STATE CENTRAL COMMITTEE: COMPOSITION AND PROCEDURE OF STATE CENTRAL COMMITTEE MEETINGS Joseph P. Harris has described the state central committee as follows: Instead of being a small governing body of the party, it is a large, unwieldy body of approxi mately seven hundred persons and exercises only one function--the election of the officers of the party. It meets only once, elects the chair man and vice chairman, executive committee and other officers, and then adjourns.1 This portrayal may be accurate only if the label, state central committee, is confined to the biennial meeting prescribed by law. And even these meetings have more Big** nificance than is often attributed to them. Certainly the state central committee, which has grown to almost a thou sand members, is too large and unwieldy a body to carry out its legally assigned task of conducting campaigns on behalf of the party's candidates. But there is more to the state Joseph P. Harris, California Politics (3d ed.; Stanford, California: Stanford University Press, 1961), p. 23. 152 153 central committee than this description indicates. It is an umbrella organization for a variety of functions per formed by individuals and groups on behalf of the party. In a sense, much more is done in the name of the state cen tral committee than by it. This chapter will deal with the composition of the Democratic state central committee and the proceedings of its biennial plenary meeting. Subsequent chapters will treat the activities of its auxiliaries and officers. Composition Distribution of Seats Officeholder and candidate control over the state party organization does not end with the state convention. The law provides that the state central committee shall consist of members of the state convention and their ap pointees. Changes in the Elections Code, which were made during the 1960's, strengthened the position of incumbents and increased the size of the committee. Before 1961, the state committee consisted of all the members of the state convention, three members appoint ed by each convention delegate, the chairmen of the 58 county committees, the national committeeman and national 154 2 committeewoman, and the Immediate past chairman, and northern and southern section chairmen --a total of 711 members. In 1961, however, the Code was amended to deliver control of the committee into incumbent hands. It provided that a "holdover" delegate or "nominee” delegate from a district represented by an incumbent officeholder affiliat ed with the same party as the nominee delegate "may appoint 4 two additional voters" to the state central committee. Thus, the Democratic state central committee which convened in 1962 under the 1961 revisions, augmented by reapportion ment, had 949 members distributed as follows: 1. Convention delegates .................. 170 2. Three members appointed by each convention delegate .................... 510 3. Two additional appointees for each of the 103 incumbents.......... 206 4. The national committeeman and national aommitteewoman ................ 2 5. The immediate past chairman and northern and southern section chairmen ............................. 3 2Cal. Stats. (1957), ch. 897. 3Cal. Stats. (1959), ch. 1734. ^Elections Code (1964), secs. 8014; 8203.3. The language of1 the provision governing bonus appointments was simplified in the rearrangement of the Code in 1967 ( Cal. Stats. [1967], ch. 1651). It now gives bonus appointments to "the incumbent of any of the offices listed? for member ship in the state convention. 155 6. County central committee chairmen ....... 58 TOTAL................949 Democratic victories in the 1962 elections added more bonus appointees for the additional incumbents. Demo cratic representation increased from 47 to 52 in the state assembly and from 16 to 24 in California's congressional delegation. It declined slightly in the state senate (from 30 to 27 seats). Consequently, the 1963 and 1964 state committee meetings had 971 members on their rolls. Under the impact of Democratic losses in the House of Representa tives, state assembly, and a United States Sentfce seat, the size of the oommittee shrank to 957. The shapp Democratic B losses in 1966 further reduced it to 921 members. In the past three decades, the state central com mittee has increased in size by over 300 members, due par tially to the growth of California's congressional delega tion.^ After the 1930 census, California's representation in Congress jumped from 11 to 00, which brought the state 5 These figures do not account for changes in the number of bonus delegates resulting from the death or res ignation of incumbent officeholders. Those assemblymen who chose to run for the newly apportioned state senate seats in 1966 lost their incumbency status for the purpose of making bonus appointments. ^Ronald E. Chinn, "Democratic Party Politics in California, 1920-1956" (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Department of Political Science, University of California, Berkeley, 1958), p. 232. 156 committee's membership total to 608. In 1937, a Democratic controlled assembly, following the leadership of Dewey Anderson and Culbert Olson, added the 58 chairmen of the 7 county central committees, which gave the committee a broadened base and 666 members. California gained 3 more congressmen after the 1940 census, and the state committee's membership total rose to 678. In 1951, California had 30 congressmen, and the state committee had 706 members. Changes in the Elections Code added the national committee man and national committeewoman in 1957 and the immediate past chairman and northern and southern section vice chair men in 1959, giving the committee 711 members. The addi tion of 8 more congressmen after the 1960 census and the 1961 Code revisions swelled the committee's membership to its present proportions. The composition of the Democratic state central committee is heavily weighted in favor of officeholders and nominees. Only 58 of the members are county chairmen. As was indicated in chapter iii, the introduction of the party Q label on the ballot in 1954° and the abolition of cross- 7Ibid. ^Charles G. Bell, MA Study of Four Selected Factors Which Have Contributed to the Inability of the Democratic Party to Successfully Mobilize Its Latent Majority in Cali fornia" (unpublished M.A. thesis, Department of Political Science, University of Southern California, 1958), p. 82. Bell indicates that, in 1952, 75 percent of seats in the 157 Q £11In? In 1959 meant a decline in county committee repre sentation on the state committee. Under cross-filing, when a Republican won the Democratic nomination for state legis lative office, the appropriate county central committee would appoint a Democrat to fill the state committee seat for that office. The abolition of cross-filing made this an empty privilege. In addition to the county chairmen, only 5 other state committee members--the national commit teeman and national committeewoman and the immediate past chairman and vice chairmen— may be other than officeholders or candidates and their appointees. Representation on the state committee is also weighted in favor of legislative nominees. There are only 6 statewide executive offices; there are 80 assembly, 40 state senatorial, and 38 congressional seats. In the 1962 state committee, nominees for legislative positions (and their appointees) controlled 818 seats, while nominees for executive office controlled only 34. In the 1963 meeting, the legislators held sway over 840 committee positions. Election losses in 1964 and 1966 reduced the number of seats controlled by legislative officeholders and nominees. state assembly were won in the primary. In 1954, after the party label was put on the ballot, 28 percent were decided in the primary (ibid.). g *In the 1959 legislature, there were still six Republican senators and two Republican assemblymen who had won the Democratic nomination as well as their own. 158 After the 1964 election, they controlled 828 seats; after the 1966 elections, they controlled 800 seats. Among the nominees for legislative office, those running for the state legislature are the dominant element. Before the 1961 Code revisions, they controlled 480 of the 711 seats on the committee; after the revisions, they con trolled 634 of the 949 seats.^ The assignment of bonus delegates to incumbents has meant that electoral gains and losses affect not only the size of the committee but the proportion controlled by nominees for legislative office. After the 1962 electoral victories, legislative office holders, nominees, and their appointees held 840 of the 971 seats; 559 (87 percent) were controlled by state legisla tive officeholders and nominees. After the 1966 electoral losses, legislative officeholders, nominees, and their ap pointees held 800 of the 921 seats; 606 (66 percent) were controlled by state legislative officeholders, nominees, and appointees. When the Democrats swept the 1958 elections, it meant that, for the first time, incumbents outnumbered nominees on the committee. The 1961 changes in the law These figures do not account for Variations in the number of bonus delegates due to the death or resigna tion of incumbent officeholders. ^They, thus, retained control over about 67 per cent of the seats. 159 gave incumbent officeholders control over 618 seats in the 1962 committee. Of these, 462 were controlled by incumbent state legislators and 96 by incumbent congressmen. Sixty seats were held by executive officeholders and their ap pointees, The 1961 reapportionment, which made over half of the assembly and congressional seats safe for one party or the other,^ an(j victories in the 1962 elections further strengthened the hand of incumbent legislators. Of the 684 seats controlled by incumbent officeholders in the 1963 meeting, 624 were controlled by incumbent legislators. Subsequent election losses have weakened incumbent control over the state committee. After the 1964 elections incumbents and their appointees held 642 seats, of which 588 were held by incumbent legislators. After the 1966 elections, there were 534 incumbent positions on the com mittee, of which 504 were held by legislative incumbents. From 1962 to 1966, the proportion of state committee seats held by legislative incumbents and their appointees slipped from 64 percent to 55 percent. In assessing the incumbents' position in the state central committee, the factor of accumulated experience should be added to that of numerical predominance. Those 12 Eugene C. Lee, "An Analysis of the 1962 Califor nia Primary Election for State Legislative and Congression al Office." (Mimeographed.) 160 who are elected year after year are able to retain state committee seats for themselves and, If they so choose, for their appointees for long periods. Nominees who lose serve only one year and then are replaced, except for the few who stand for election again. Incumbents are able to accumu late experience and knowledge about state committee affairs and, thereby, to achieve a position of leadership in the committee. Their leadership is further assured by their occupational opportunities to acquire oratorical and par liamentary skills, which give them an advantage in commit tee proceedings.^ The proceedings of the state committee meetings are structured to reinforce the prominent role of incumbents. The chairmanship and a majority of seats in the important resolutions committee, for example, are usually held by incumbent legislators.^5 There is also an observable ten dency for incumbents to receive more attention and defer ence from state committee members and more in the way of courtesies from state committee staff than less well known 13 James Q. Wilson, The Amateur Democratt Club Politics in Three Cities (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1962), pp. 98-99. **See Robert Michels, Political Parties, trans. by Eden Paul and Cedar Paul (New York: Dover Publications, Inc., 1959), especially pp. 84-85. ^Subcommittee rosters in state committee meeting files, 1962-1966. (Typed and mimeographed.) 161 and less powerful non-incumbent nominees. Another feature of the distribution of seats in the state central committee deserves attention. Only eight counties (Los Angeles, San Diego, Orange, Ventura, Imper ial, Riverside, San Bernardino, and Santa Barbara) consti- 17 tute the populous southern section of the state committee. Consequently, the presence on the committee of 50 northern county chairman always gives the northern section a dis proportionate edge in state committee voting. Before the 18 court-ordered reapportionment of state senate in 1965, the additional presence of 32 northern state senators gave the northern section a majority of votes in the committee. Southern California legislative nominees (22 congressmen, 45 assemblymen, 8 state senators), for example, controlled 374 seats in 1962. The addition of 8 county chairmen brought the total southern representation to 382 seats or 40 percent of the state committee membership (949). Northern California legislative nominees (16 congressmen, 35 assemblymen, 32 senators) controlled 444 seats. The 50 ^Personal observation as a member of the state committee staff. 17"By-laws" (1964), sec. 15. *®Silver v. Jordan, 241 F. Supp. 576 (1965), cited in John R. Owens, Edmond Costantini, and Louis F. Weschler, California Politics and Parties (Londoni The Macmillan Company, 1970), p. 289, n. 10. 162 northern county chairmen gave their section a total of 494 seats or 52 percent. Neither the 1961 Code revisions nor the 1961 reapportionment and subsequent electoral results changed the north-south division significantly. After the 1962 elections, the southern section held 398 or 41 percent l f l of the 971 seats; the north held 506 or 52 percent. The 1965 reapportionment, however, did have a sig nificant effect on the north-south division of state com mittee votes. Southern California gained 14 state senate seSts, for a total of 22. It also gained one assembly seat, for a total of 46.20 The results of the 1966 elec tion gave the southern section bonus appointments for 10 state senators, 25 assemblymen, and 11 congressmen. Thus, 19 Without state senators and county chairmen, southern California would have had 348 seats in the 1963 committee to 276 seats for the north. Southern senators and county chairmen would constitute only 5 percent of the committee and 13 percent of the southern delegation. Northern senators and county chairmen would constitute 23 percent of the 1963 committee and 44 percent of the north ern delegation. Los Angeles county's representation (15 congressmen, 31 assemblymen, 1 state senator, and 1 county chairman) constituted 25 percent of the 1962 state committee. In 1963, it would constitute 26.5 percent. 20 There was no change in the north-south distribu tion of congressional districts. For accounts of the ef fects of the 1965 reapportionment, see RichardBB. Harvey, The Dynamics of California Government and Politics (Bel mont, California: Wadsworth Publishing company, inc., 1970), pp. 85-95; and Owens, Constantini, and Weschler, op. cit., pp. 288-291 163 the reapportionment of 1965 and the 1966 elections gave the southern section 469 seats (including the 8 county chair men) or 51 percent of the total membership of 921. Whatever the sectional distribution of seats, the ability of the northern section to prevail over the south in settlement of their sectional differences in the state committee meetings has been enhanced by the more cohesive voting behavior of the northern delegation. The northern section's power is further augmented by the legal stipula tion that the state committee meet in Sacramento. The state committee meets on a Sunday.2^ Southern California delegates are under greater pressure from the imminent working day to leave before the state committee adjourns. This can affect voting on resolutions, which are the last item on the committee's agenda. Before 1961, the Elections Code insured that, ex cept for county chairmen, the membership of the state com mittee would be divided equally between men and women. Each convention delegate was required to appoint one voter of the same sex and two voters of the opposite sex to the 22 committee. This requirement, however, was circumvented 21 Formerly in August after the Saturday meeting of the state convention. The state committee now meets on the fourth Sunday of January following a general election ( Cal. Stats. [1969], ch. 1225). 2Elections Code (1960), sec. 2803. 164 2 3 by the provision allowing any member to attend by proxy. A convention delegate wishing to appoint three men to the state committee would appoint the wives of two men, with the understanding that their husbands would represent them by proxy. In 1960, for example, 21 women appointed to the Democratic state central committee gave proxies to their husbands. In three cases, women received proxies from their husbands.The guarantee of equal representation was further weakened by the 1961 Code amendments giving incumbents additional appointments. The Code now requires equal representation of men and women, except for the in- 2 5 cumbents’ bonus appointees. The membership of the state committee has been characterized by instability. Turnover has been great and has prevented the accumulation of experience and the devel opment of group cohesion. In 1953, out of 169 committee members answering a questionnaire, only 20 percent had been members during the 1950 to 1952 biennium; about 13 percent had been members for six years; less than 9 percent had served nine years or more.26 in 1954, only 32.3 percent of 23pean R. Cresap, Party Politics in the Golden State (Los Angeles: Haynes Foundation, 1954), p. 41; Elections Code (1964), sec. 6203 (renumbered sec. 8740). 2*Sacramento Bee. July 30, 1960. 25 * Elections Code (1966), sec. 8202.35 (renumbered sec. 8662). 2®Richard Israel, "An Analysis of California State 27 the members had served on the state committee in 1952. In some cases, membership on the committee seems to be a family affair, with a wife serving one term and her husband the next. If these are counted as continuous memberships, approximately 47.8 percent of the 1960 committee were mem- 90 bers in 1958. Turnover increased sharply from 1960 to 1962; only 34.1 percent of the members of the 1962 commit tee had served in 1960.This increase was probably the result of the 1961 reapportionment. The high number of Democratic incumbents produced by the 1962 elections prob ably accounts for the marked decrease in membership turn over between 1962 and 1964: 55.5 percent of the members of the 1964 committee had served in 1962.30 Proxies One result of having an oversized state committee and a state territory of inordinate length has been the use Democratic Parfcy Organization: The State Central Committee (unpublished M.A. thesis, Department of Political Science, University of California, Berkeley, 1953), pp. 61-62. 27 Bell, op. cit., p. 56. ^®Cal., Secretary of State, Members of the State Central Committees, 1958, 1960. 29Ibid., 1960, 1962. 30Ibld., 1962, 1964. 166 and occasional abuse of proxy voting at state central com mittee meetings. Absenteeism seems inevitable when commit tee members must pay their own way and travel hundreds of miles merely to attend a one day meeting. Moreover, the selection of appointees may be done so carelessly that an appointee may not even know that he is a member of the com mittee.^ Under conditions which are so unfavorable to full attendance, the proxy system may be needed to guarani tee a quorum. The Elections Code prescribes that all proxies must be filed with the Secretary of State not later than five o'clock of the afternoon preceding the committee meeting.^2 Upon receipt of each proxy, the Sedretary of State is re quired to forward it to the state chairman or to someone 33 designated by him. Any changes in the proxies can be recognized by the committee on proxies and credentials upon a personal request by a member before that committee.34 "^Israel, op. cit., p. 108. 32 Elections Code (1966), sec. 8202.1 (renumbered sec. 8742). 33Cal. Stats. (1969), ch. 455. Before 1969, the Secretary of State delivered a certified alphabetical list of state central committee members and a list of persons designated as proxies to the retiring chairman of the state committee (Elections Code [1966], sec. 8207). 34Elections Code (1964), sec. 8205 (renumbered sec. 8743). 167 The following figures show the extent to which proxies have been used at Democratic state central commit tee meetings: 1940— 140 proxy holders; 307 proxies. One person held 14. 1942— 116 proxy holders; 293 proxies. One person held 28. 1946— 125 proxy holders; 238 proxies. Two persons held 9 each. 1948— 118 proxy holders; 246 proxies. One person held 23. 1950— 153 proxy holders; 231 proxies. One person held 10.35 These figures indicate that there have usually been two proxies for every proxy holder and that approximately one third of the committee membership has been represented by proxy in votes taken by the committee on the election of officers and on resolutions. Energetic committee members have been able to col lect large numbers of proxies, but only rarely have proxy holders been able to control a meeting. As interest in state party affairs has grown over the years, it has become 36 increasingly difficult to obtain votes by this method. The few occasions upon which proxy holders have been able 35 Israel, op. cit., p. 109. The records in the Secretary of State's office, upon which Israel based his figures, are missing, as are the proxy records for most subsequent meetings. 3®Cresap, op. cit,, p. 42 168 to control a meeting have produced some spectacular fire* works. One such incident occurred in a specially called meeting of the state central committee in 1936. The point at issue was who would control the selection of California delegates to the 1936 national convention. Both State Chairman Culbert Olson and Senator McAdoo were anxious to control the delegation.37 The Los Angeles press described the ensuing contest: After one short, bitter clasp, [sic] warring fac tions. ..dug in for what appeared to be a long and wearing battle for control of the...committee... Both sides laid claim to a majority. A McAdoo leader expressed the opinion that the Olsonites would be required 'to get rid of 100 proxies to get control'.... The scramble for proxies occu pied both sides...and regardless of the report of the credentials committee presaged a bitter and extended fight.38 The situation arose in the following manner: when the state central committee matron Friday it was conceded that the fight for control would be close. It was known that McAdoo leaders hhd roused San Francisco committeemen from their beds in some cases, in their eagerness to obtain proxies... Illustrative of the manner in which proxies were stacked against Olson, two McAdoo leaders alone held 131 out of a possible 592. Olson hitaself held but 44. Other McAdoo men held frequent bftocks of 6, 8, 10.39 37Israel, op. clt.. p. 110* An account of this incident can also be found in Chinn. Op. cit., p. 237. 3B "Israel, loc. clt., quoting from the Los Angeles Times, January 18, Ibid., quoting from the Los Angeles Independent Review, January 21, 1936. 169 Proxies played an important but somewhat diminished role in an intense battle for the vice chairmanship in 1942.4® Proxies have declined considerably in importance. Only about 100 were filed for the 1960 meeting of the Demo cratic state central committee, and no one held a consider able biock of proxy votes. The Sacramento Bee reported the way in which they were distributed: There are three instances in which members will be able to cast four votes each. State Sen ator Hugh P. Donnelly of Stanislaus County, As semblyman Don A. Allen of Los Angeles County and D. Patrick Ahern of Long Beach, congressional nom inee in the 18th district, each have three proxies. Other members have one or two proxies. Many wives have given their proxies to their husbands• One committee member, Clifford V. Dean of Riverside, gave his proxy to himself, Clifford V. Dean. Apparently this was a mistake. It has con fused the secretary of state's office, to say the least. It is not unusual for about 100 people to carry proxies to state committee meetings.4^ Few, however, carry 4 3 more than two. 40Ibid. 41 Sacramento Bee, July 30, 1960. 42 There was an unusually high number of proxies (159) at the first, and only, annual meeting of 1963. They were of little consequence because there wee no election of state committee officials that year ("Proxy Democratic State Central committee Meeting, August 11, 1963" [Xerox copy.]). In 1966, for example, only four members held from 170 One reason that proxies are seldom important is that roll call votes are rarely taken in the state central committee. The use of proxies may also be limited by the fact that, if the proxy giver has not paid his committee dues, the proxy holder must pay them in order to partici pate in a roll call vote. Since access to the floor of most state committee meetings is not strictly regulated, there is little motivation to pay for the privilege of par ticipating in a voice vote. Although proxies no longer play an important role in determining the outcome of state committee voting, in 1961, the members of the by-laws committee of the Democrat ic state central committee thought the proxy system still susceptible to abusive practices. They proposed to limit proxy holders to people who were not members of the state central committee and to prevent anyone from holding more than one proxy.Von Dempsey, executive secretary of the three to six proxies each (Sacramento Bee, August 13, 1966). See also Cal., Secretary of £tate. Membership Directory, Democratic State Central Committee, 1$66. In 1968, or the eighty-eight proxy holders, one person held five, and one person held three. The rest held one each (Cal., Secretary of State, Membership Directory, Democratic State Central Committee, 1968). Evidence on proxies is scanty because records have had a hfcbit of getting lost in the Secretary of State's of fice. In 1966, however, the Secretary of Sfcate began printing proxy lists in the state committee membership directories. The record should be more reliable in the fu- tuee. 44 Personal observation at by-laws committee meeting, March 17, 1961. 171 northern section of the state committee, promised to ask Robert Crown, chairman of the Assembly Committee on Elec tions and Reapportionment, to introduce appropriate legis lation. The executive committee of the state central com mittee recommended the changes to the Democratic legisla- 45 tive caucus, but the legislature took no action on the matter. The State Central Committee Meeting The Elections Code sets forth the procedure for the state central committee meeting in great detail. The 1961 revisions, however, did introduce an element of choice in determining the time of the year in which the Democratic meeting would be held. The state central committee still had to meet the day after the convention.46 Under the old provisions, the convention of a party having more than 3,000,000 registered voters, i.e., the Democrats, met on a 47 Saturday designated by the chairman. But this Saturday could "be no later than the twelfth Saturday following the direct primary election." The 1962 Code required that the convention of parties having more than 3,000,000 regis- -------- TE---------- "^Minutes of Executive Committee Meeting, March 18, 1961. 46Elections Code (1962), sec. 8202. 47Electiona Code (1960), sec. 2792.1. 172 trants meet "annually at Sacramento at 10 o'clock of the morning of a Saturday designated by the chairman of the A , fi state central committee of the party. Thus, the Code still governed the day of the week, the time of the day, and the place the Democratic state central committee had to meet but it no longer stipulated the time of the year. In 1965, the legislature restored the old rule requiring that the state committee meet in August, following the direct 49 primary. The Elections Code stipulates the exact order of business which the meeting must follow. At 10 a.m. on the day of the meeting, the chairman calls the committee to order and causes the roll to be read from a list of members and proxies certified by the Secretary of State. The order of business then calls for the election of a temporary chairman, whose first duty is to appoint a committee on proxies and credentials consisting of one member from each congressional district.^0 This committee has little to do since the state department, in effect, acts as a committee on credentials for the state central committee. The main *^Elections Code (1962), sec. 8003. 49 Ibid. The committee now meets in January, fol lowing a general election (Cal. Stats. [1969], ch. 1225), 50Elections Code (1966), sec. 8202 (renumbered sec. 8771). 173 functions of the credentials committee are to receive re quests for changes in proxies and to receive and report on the list of state committee members prepared by the Secre- e 1 tary of State.The temporary chairman also appoints a resolutions and a by-laws committee, both of which have 52 actually been chosen some months before. Once the preliminary formalities, including speech es by party notables, are disposed of, the state committee has three main tasks to perform: (1) it elects the perman ent chairman and other officers of the state committee; (2) it receives the report of the by-laws committee; (3) it considers and passes resolutions. In one sense, it may be said that the one-day plenary meeting of the state commit tee does not (and cannot) do very much. It performs its three tasks and adjourns, not to meet again for two years. In another sense, however, what the committee does or, more 51 There is only one recorded instance of the cre dentials committee actually barring a delegate. In August, 1966, it ruled that neither William C. Godfrey nor his ap pointees could be seated because Godfrey, the Democratic nominee in the seventy-ninth assembly district, had changed his registration to independent after winning the primary. The committee authorized other nominees in Godfrey's con gressional district to make three substitute appointments (San Diego Union, August 14, 1966). *52 For example, in December, 1960, Marvin Holen was appointed chairman of the by-laws committee. At an execu tive committee meeting in March, 1962, Eugene Wyman appoint ed Senator Hugo Fisher chairman of the resolutions commit tee and Assemblyman Carley Porter as co-chairman of the pre-platform committee. 174 specifically, how it conducts its business, is significant. The way in which committee carries out its tasks, especial ly the election of officers and the passing of resolutions, frequently reveals, and sometimes affects, the current con dition of the party— the state of the party's leadership and the prevailing contours of intra-party consensus and cleavage. The state central committee meeting often pro vides an areaa in which ancient conflidts are acted out, the lines of current battles are drawn, and the latest settlements arenarrived at and/or ratified. At the same time, it is often a means for developing and/or expressing party unity. Election of Officers The main function of the state committee, the one mandated by the Elections Code, is the election of the per manent chairman and other officers. The manner in which the committee carries out this function is affected signif icantly by two legal stipulations: that the chairman of the committee shall not succeed himself and that the office shall alternate between the northern and southern territor ies.^ These provisions both reflect and reinforce the traditional north-south split in California politics and ^Elections Code (1966), sec. 8210 (renumbered sec. 8774). 175 bear witness to the fact that the state central committee is not one but two. The Tehachapi Mountains are roughly the boundary line between the northern and southern sections of the party. Each section has a full set of officers, a separate headquarters and staff, and its own system of finance. The party elects a chairman from the section called for by the Elections Oode and a vice chairman from the other part of the state. These officers are actually autonomous chairmen for their respective territories and act independently of each other. Consequently, it sometimes happens that a con test for the vice chairmanship may command greater interest than the election of the chairman, especially when there is an intra-party struggle in the section of the vice chair* man. Terminological difficulties were compounded in 1956, when the Democrats changed their by-laws to add a second 54 vice chairman in the section of the state chairman. This action was an attempt to create an image of a truly state wide and unified organization. Instead of being elected by a caucus of committee members from his section, the chairmas is now formally elected by the entire committee. Similar ly, the women's division chairman is elected by the whole committee. As a general rule, these officers are actually Interview with Roger Kent, August 8, 1961. 176 chosen by their respective sections, and their selection is merely ratified by action of the state committee. The no table exceptions to this rule will be discussed below. If the conventional image of the official stfcte party organization were accurate, the chairmanship would be no more than a figurehead position, and the selection of its occupant would evoke little interest. In fact the selection of the state chairman or the regional vice chair man generates considerable excitment and sometimes triggers a bitter fight. The battle for this office has sometimes been a costly one in which prominent politicians have suf fered damaged reputations, have assumed and paid substan tial political debts, and have incurred lasting enmities. Such a price would be too high to pay if the chairmanship, and what amounts to control of the official party machinery were of no value. The capture of the state committee is not as great a prize as it has been in states where the formal organiza tion has exercised some control over access to the general 55 election ballot. It does not mean automatic command over substantial resources or over an on-going program of activ 55 For an organizational situation similar to that which has often prevailed in California politics, see V. 0. Key, Jr., leathern Politics in State and National. Vintage Books (new York: Random kouse, Inc., and Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1949), pp. 386-405. 177 ities. Due to the inordinate size of party committees and the infrequency of meetings, state organizational resources and activities are largely the product of chairman's in itiatives. Within the limits imposed by structural and environmental factors, the state organization is what the chairman mattes of it. And what he is able to make of it does not depend primarily on the inherent powers of his office or of the state organization. The office does offer certain opportunities to the man or woman who is capable of exploiting them. It has prestige and publicity value. It may give the occupant the chance to participate in the distribution of patronage. It may give him a large measure of discretion over the handl ing of state committee funds. The ability to exploit these and any other opportunities provided by the chairman's of fice depends in large part, upon the personal status and political acumen of the occupant and upon the support he receives from other political leaders. The factors which influence the selection of the chairman are also a measure of his ability to exercise political leadership or influ ence in the office. Among these factors are his position in the community and in the party; his relations with big contributors; his relations with the party's governor or gubernatorial candidate, with its other statewide office holders and candidates, and with its state legislative and 178 congressional delegations; and the nature of intra-party alliances in his section of the state. As has been indicated, the election of the state chairman is profoundly affected by the bifurcated character of the state party organization. Although the state chair man is formally elected by the whole state committee, he is usually the choice of his ewn section or, more specifically, of the dominant faction within his section. The state chairmanship rotates between the northern and southern sec tions every two years, and the normal pattern of succession calls for the section chairman to become state chairman when that office is to be filled from his part of the state. Thus, for example, the seccession of Eugene Hyman to the office of state chairman at the 1962 state committee meet ing was a virtual certainty. Hyman had been elected south ern chairman at a special executive committee meeting in November, 1961, when his predecessor, Assemblyman Hilliam Munnell, resigned to accept a judicial appointment. After Hyman and the chairman of the women's division, Jane Morri son, were elected by acclamation by the whole state commit tee, the committee recessed to meet in section caucuses for the election of other officers. The election of the two sets of officers selected by the section caucuses was then confirmed by a formal vote of acclamation in the reassembled 179 whole committee. The committee's apparently unanimous approval of Wyman was not typical of state committee elections, espe cially when It has been southern California's turn to elect a state chairman. Wyman's election was assured because he was the choice of the group allied with the most powerful Democrat in southern California, Jesse Unruh, and because the Governor assented to his candidacy. However, his in vestiture at the southern caucus held in November, 1961, did not go unchallenged. Glenn Wilson, a close associate of Paul Ziffren, and a CDC supporter was nominated by State e 7 Senator Richard Richards of Los Angeles County. The smoothness of Wyman's succession to party office seemed to turn on the question of whether there would be a roll call or a secret ballot. The latter was moved by Lieutenant Governor Glenn Anderson. A hand vote on his motion result ed in a twenty-six to twenty-six tie, which ms broken by Chairman Kent, who voted for the roll call. It is a striking testimony to extreme bifurcation that the tie was restored when Kent's vote was disallowed because of his residency in northern California. A roll call motion on Adderson's motion followed. The vote was twenty-six for a secret ballot and thirty-two against. In the face of an 56personal observation at the state central commit tee meeting, August 26, 1962. ^Minutes of Special Executive Committee Meeting* November 9, 1961. lao open ballot, Wilson withdrew Bis candidacy.58 No such challenge ever marred the reelection of Roger Kent as northern chairman. From 1954 until his res ignation in 1966 to work for Governor Brown's reelection, Kent was the standing choice of the stable and united al liance of party leaders which dominated the northern sec tion— an alliance whose strength was bolstered, after 1958, by the support of a Democratic governor. During this twelve year period, there is evidence of only one challenge in the election of any northern section officer. This oc curred in 1962, when the wife of Assemblyman Phillip Burton, Sila Burton, unsuccessfully opposed JaneMorrison, a member of the group allied with Kent, for the post of Cn women's chairman. Southern California enjoyed no comparable unity and continuity of leadership. From 1954 to 1966, the same per iod in which the northern section had only one chairman, the southern section had five,**8 as tenuous alliances among 58Ibid. 58toe Angeles Times, August 21, 1962. Mrs. Bur ton's candidacy marked the emergence of a "Burton-faction" in northern California. As long as the "Kent faction" re tained the support of the Governor, however, its hegemony was unbroken. 80Elizabeth Snyder (1954-1956), William Rosenthal (1956-1958 as southern chairman, 1959 as state chairman), William Munnell (1959-1960 as state chairman, 1961 as south ern chairman), Eugene wyman (1961-1962 as southern chairman, 1082-1964 as state chairman^ Carmen Warshaw (1964-1966 as 181 the leaders of several factions formed, shifted, and dis solved. Only two of the five, William Rosenthal and Eugene Wyman, succeeded to the state chairmanship from the section chairmanship. When a section has lacked a unified leader ship corps, which is capable of effectuating its decisions, the state central committee meeting has served as an arena for the settlement of factional disputes. While state committee elections are complicated by the north-south bifurcation and rivalry, they would be less complicated if the bifurcation, and the putative autonomy of each section in the selection of its officers, were complete. Although each section ordinarily exercises autonomous control over the selection of its own set of Officers, it is not unknown for a faction based in one sec tion of the state to intervene in the election of officers in the other section. Zn recent years, the most visible evidence of such interference appeared in 1966, when north ern state committee officers and staff members worked open ly and actively to defeat the bid of Southern Chairman Carmen Warshaw to become state chairman. In contravention to the tradition of regional au tonomy, certain factors may act to encourage one section's attempts to influence the elective affairs of the other. The 1956 innovation, by which the state chairman is elected southern chairman). 182 by the whole committee, tends to invite inter-sectional intervention in what is normally expected to be the commit tee's proforma ratification of the choice of the section holding the state chairmanship at a given time. Inter sectional interference is also encouraged by intra-section- al rivalry, when one faction or another invites or welcomes support from groups in the other section. Both of these factors have generally increased the likelihood that the north will exercise influence in the affairs of the south ern caucus rather than vice versa. The north still holds a disproportionate share of seats in the state committee, so the election of the state chairman by the whole committee gives it a measure of power it would not Otherwise enjoy. The effect of northern voting power would be negligible, however, if it were not for another factor: the northern state committee delegation is a more unified group than the southern delegation,and, consequently, is more effec tive in statewide caucuses than the strife ridden south erners.61 Another factor that has prompted inter-regional interventions is the understandable desire of a gubernator ial candidate, whose power base may be in one section of the state, to secure sympathetic state committee leadership 61Because of the infrequency of roll call votes, there is a lack of empirical verification of the impression of northern unity. The impression, however, is widely shared among leaders in both sections of the state. 183 in the other section. The north-south division, however important it may be, is not the only source of complexity and conflict in state committee elections. From time to time, these elec tions have featured other long-standing schisms, which cut across sectional divisions. The fight for control of the state chairmanship or section chairmanship has pitted lib erals against conservatives, CDC against incumbent office holders, one officeholder or group of officeholders (often the governor or gubernatorial candidate) against another (usually state legislators and/or congressmen). The dis cussion that follows deals with some notable instances in which combinations of some or all of these cleavage pat terns have affected the state committee's electoral process. One such contest, which took place in 1950 over the election of the northern vice chairman, illustrates some of the problems which a Bifurcated structure can create for 62 the party's gubernatorial candidate. The contest fea* tured the standard north-south division, blurred, however, by ideological overtones. It is noteworthy partly because it contained echoes of an older intra-party schism, which had dominated the politics of the late 1940's. This schism had roots in the bitter ideological struggles that surround- 62 Unless otherwise indicated, the account that fol lows is taken primarily ffom Cresap, op. cit., pp. 44-45. 184 ed Upton Sinclair's 1934 gubernatorial campaign and contin ued through the ill-fated administration of Democratic Governor Culbert Olson.The immediate antecedent of the 1950 fight was the 1918 presidential primary, in which the state chairman, James Roosevelt, broke with the Truman Ad ministration over the issue of foreign policy.®^ The 1950 contest reflected the long term enmity be tween William Malone, San Francisco county chairman from 1936 to 1952 and the only man to serve two terms as state chairman in the period from 1929 to 1952; and James Roose velt, 1950 Democratic gubernatorial candidate.With Malone were allied oilman Edwin Pauley, millionaire rancher and former Imperial County State Senator George Luckey, and National Committeewoman Elinor Heller.Although this group had its strongest base in northern California, its membership crossed sectional lines. Its organizational base was the San Francisco county committee, which, in this period, was virtually the oily visible organizational 6 3 For an account of the politics of the period, see Robert E. Burke, Olson's New Deal 4dr California (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1953) ***Chinn, op. cit. , p. 145. 65Ibid., p. 152. See also Israel, op. cit., p. 90. Roosevelt served as state chairman from 1946 to 1&48 and as national committeeman from 1948 to 1950. 66 Israel, op. cit., p. 95. 185 67 structure in the Democratic party. An important source of its strength was its close relationship with Democratic administrations in Washington, which had long funnelled most federal patronage through Malone. James Roosevelt led an avowedly liberal group, which included Helen Gahagen Douglas, United States Senate nominee in 1950. Mrs. Douglas had won the nomination in a bitter primary campaign in which Malone and others had ac cused her of having communist sympathies.**® Roosevelt's faction was based primarily in eputhern California, but its membership, like that of the Malone group, crossed section al lines. At the 1950 state committee meeting, Roosevelt suc ceeded in having his choice for state chairman, Glenn Anderson, elected. But the election for northern chairman 67 See, for example, the organizational situation found by J. Howard McGrath, chairman of the Democratic na tional committee, when he travelled to California, in Jack E. Redding, Inside the Democratic Party (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill Company, Inc., 1958), p. 112i "...Bill Malone in San Francisco had knit together a tight organization, but this was only in the North. In the southern section of the state, while there was a great preponderance of register ed Democrats, liberals in the main, they lacked organization and coherency." 68 Cresap, op. cit., p. 110. 6®Interview with Don Bradley, October 12, 1961. 186 was hotly contested. Roosevelt ahd Helen Douglas were said to prefer George Miller, Jr. for the post. Miller had been Roosevelt's running mate as candidate for lieutenant gover nor but had been defeated in the primary by Goodwin Knight. Fred Trott of Exter was the choice of Malone and Assembly man Francis Dunn of Oakland. Although Roosevelt and Douglas had indicated a preference for Miller, "they sent messages, which were read, to the effect that any of the men being mentioned in connection with the chairmanship 70 would be acceptable to them.1 Dean Cresap reported that, in Trott’s nomination, there were "overtones of resentment against the domination of the party organization by Roose velt and his Southern California supporters."71 Despite the committee's enthusiastic response to Miller's nomina tion and despite the fact that he was the preferred candi date of the party's gubernatorial nominee, Trott won the vice chairmanship in the northern caucus. Illustrative of the fluid leadership situation,,even in northern California at that time, a few months after Malone and his associates engineered Troot's election, Trott broke with Malone, as sumed independent control over party coffers, and refused to endorse the patronage recommendations of the Malone fac tion.72 70Cresap, op. cit., p. 44. 71lbid. 72Ibid., p. 113. X87 Dean Cresap depicted the inconstancy of leadership in California's Democratic party in 1954: Leadership in that organization defies definition. Divided t>y personal followings, geographic and ideological factions, the Democrats have dozens of leaders but no one around whom a majority might rally.73 Even as Cresap wrote, however, the situation was settling in the north, although his observations remained descrip tive of conditions in southern California. A new alliance had formed and had captured control of the northern section of the state central committee. Their victory was confirm ed by the election of George Miller, Jr. as state chairman in 1952. Even after his defeat in the state central commit tee in 1950, Miller had remained one of the most prominent Democrats in the state senate. In 1952, he catapulted to "statewide prominence almost by accident" when he supported 74 Estes Kefauver in the Democratic presidential primary. Most of the party's established leaders were pledged to Harry Truman. When Truman announced that he would not seek the nomination, he left the slate high and dry. A favorite 73Ibid., p. 109. 7*Francis M. Carney, The Rise of Democratic Clubs in Califosiiia New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, Inc., 1958), p. 4. 188 son movement was hastily raised for Attorney General Edmund G. Brown. Kefauver*s triumph over the Brown slate in the 75 primary thrust Miller into a new position of influence. Armed with his victory in the primary. Miller be came chairman of the state central committee, in spite of the efforts of eleven of California's thirteen Democratic congressmen, who flew to Sacramento to defeat him. The congressmen were reputedly concerned over Miller's an nounced intention to use whatever resources h« could muster to elect more Democratic congressmen rather than to bolster 76 the security of incumbents. The 1952 primary was something of a turning point for the Democrats in more ways than one. As far as the state central Qoimnittee was concerned, it brought a chang ing of the leadership guard. William Malone retired from active political life and Elinor Heller, one of his princi pal allies, was replaced as national committeewoman by Clara Shirpser. Unlike his predecessor, Miller was a be liever in mass participation politics and instituted an "open door" policy which brought in a new leadership group.77 ^5Ibid. ^Dickinson May, "The California Democratic Coun cil" (A term paper written at the University of California, Berkeley, June, 1959), p. 45. May was a member of the northern state committee staff. 77 Ibid.. p. 4. 189 Nineteen fifty-two also saw a turnover in southern California leadership, but the situation was much more com plicated than in the north. This complexity and its atten dant difficulties was revealed in the 1954 state central committee meeting. As in 1950, the desires of the party's gubernatorial candidate were thwarted— this time by the southern section, whose turn it was to elect the Btate chairman. The Democratic nominee for governor, Richard Graves, and his supporters were reported to be seeking "a big name from the South" to succeed Senator Miller as state chair man.^8 The candidate's first choice was Dan Kimball, for mer Secretary of the Navy, a prominent businessman, and an 79 important contributor to the Democratic party. However, what the press depicted as "an ultra-liberal faction" in southern California, led by Congressmen James Roosevelt, Chet Hollifield, and Samuel Yorty, supported the candidacy 80 of Elizabeth Snyder, women's vice chairman. The situa tion was further complicated by the announcement of a CDC candidacy, that of Steve Zetterberg, who was supported by 81 former state chairman Glenn Anderson. x 76San Francisco Examiner, June 21, 1954. 79Ibid. 80 San Francisco Chronicle, August 3, 1954. 81Ibid. 190 For several weeks before the state committee meet ing , Democrats used press releases to hurl accusations at each other. The newspapers reported that Graves charged that Mrs. Snyder and her husband were under the influence of William G. Bonelli, Board of Equalization member, whose f l 2 district was then the scene of a liquor license scandal. Mrs. Snyder, in turn, charged that Graves was splitting the party by disseminating propaganda against her and expressed regret at the thought that any nominee would aid in divid ing the party, Chaos was compounded when Dan Kimball withdrew from the race due to "the press of his personal business. The Graves group then switched their support to William Munnell, assemblyman from Montebello. Graves attempted to influence the deliberations of the southern caucus with the following telegram, which was sent to southern California Democratic nominees: At a meeting last Saturday of the Southern California Democratic nominees a motion was passed requesting that 1 propose a candidate for the chairmanship of the Democratic State Central Com mittee. 82 Sacramento Bee, August 16, 1954. 8 3 Los Angeles Examiner, July 3, 1954. 84 San Francisco Chronicle, August 3, 1954. 191 After roost serious and careful consideration, I propose the name of Assemblyman William A. Munnell of Montebello. His election to the chairmanship would command, I am sure, not only the support and confidence of the workers of the Democratic party, but also of the people of Cal ifornia. He has a distinguished record of ser vice to his party and his State. His having been elected by winning both the Democratic and Repub lican nominations at the primary, he has the time ane energy to exercise strong and active leader- ship.of the party. He would make a fine chair man. 85 Even this panegyrical endorsement of Munnell and the gubernatorial candidate's intense opposition to Mrs. Snyder failed to sway the state committee vote south of the Tehachapis. Mrs. Spyder's supporters mounted a formidable campaign and succeeded in building up "something approach- Q £ ing a groundswell of support" for her. Their efforts resembled a campaign for public office. Various commit tees, including the Democratic women's forum and the steer ing committee of the fifty-first assembly district council, passed resolutions urging her election* A testimonial dinner honoring her for her service to the party was held at a Los Angeles hotel.67 Congressman Chet Holifield dra matically announced in Washington that he would fly to 88 Sacramento to nominate her at the state committee meeting; 85Ibid. 86Los Angeles Daily News, July 27, 1954. 87Ibid. 88Ibid., July 23, 1954. 192 When Mrs. Snyder tool a commanding lead in the southern caucus' voting, Munnell withdrew his candidacy and urged the caucus to make the note unanimous. Graves threw in the sponge and did not contest her election on the meet- 89 ing floor, and the vote there was also unanimous. Graves was successful in one attempt to circumscribe Mrs. Snyder's influence. The Democratic state central committee amended the "By-laws" to add a steering committee to the party structure. The purpose of the steering committee was to act as a restraint on the new state chairman. The vice chairmanship was also a matter of dispute in 1954, and the new guard triumphed over its last serious challenge. Retiring State Chairman Miller at first indi cated that he might run for the position but later withdrew in favor of Roger Kent, who was the choice of Richard Graves.A movement was then launched to nominate Mayor Laurence Cross of Berkeley, chairman of the Alameda county central committee. Cross' promoters hoped to destroy Miller's influence.^ Among his supporters were San Fran cisco County Chairman James J. Reilly j Sam Gardner of 89 Sacramento Bee, August 16, 1954. 90 Interview with Roger Kent, August 8, 1961. 91 San Francisco Chronicle, July 29, 1954. 92 San Francisco Examiner, July 27, 1954. 193 Marin; Delaney Smith, San Francisco Attorney; and several northern California congressmen and congressional candi dates. A few other names were proposed, but, by the time the committee met, it appears that the opposition to Kent's election had rallied behind the nomination of Jack Tolin. This opposition was centered in the northern California congressional delegation. According to Don Bradley, execu tive secretary of the northern section of the state central committee, every single Democratic congressman from Cali- 9 3 fornia opposed the election of Kent. They were certain that Kent would devote all of the resources of the state committee to the election of new party candidates, espe cially those for state offices. The congressmen flew to the convention as a group, and each lobbied a panel of about forty-five delegates on behalf of Tolin.94 Kent's supporters prevailed, however, and Miller and Graves were able to secure his election in the northern caucus. With Kent's election, a stable leadership group was firmly established in northern California. Unchallenged by the now moribund San Francisco county committee or by the CDC, which it had clasped firmly in a friendly embrace, the ^Dickinson May, "How to Win California Elections" (a term paper written At the University of Cali fornia at Berkeley, February, 1959), p. 40. Bradley con firmed May's description in an interview, October 12, 1961. 94Ibid. 19* northern section regularly reelected Chairman Kent until he retired in 1966. The southern section continued to be torn by dissension, primarily along a pro-CDC/anti-CDC axis. The pro-CDC forces, led by Paul Ziffren, elected William q c Rosenthal as state chairman in 1956. Rosenthal served for three years, during which the southern section of the state committee was moribund. The locus of organizational activity in this period was the Los Angeles county commit tee, which had a large staff and a strong program for the QC organization of clubs. In 1959 Rosenthal was appointed to the judiciary,97 and, after a close contest between Thomas Carvey of the CDC and Assemblyman William Munnell, those friendly to CDC lost control of the southern section of the state committee: Munnell was a close ally of Jesse Unruh.98 For the next seven years, the southern section chairmanship was held by Unruh'■ allies. Wyman's relative ly smooth promotion to the state chairmanship marked the period during which Unruh, supported by Women's Division Chairman Carmen Warshaw and National Committeeman Stanley ®^Wilson, op. cit., p. 123. 96Ibid., p. 122. 97Ibid., p. 123. Rosenthal's appointment was de signed to facilitate his retirement from the chairmanship (interview with Jeese Unruh, June 4, 1911). 98 Sacramento Bee. July 30, 1960. 195 Mosk, was able "to control virtually every part of the or ganizational apparatus"99 in southern California. The Unruh group controlled the Los Angeles county committee and exercised substantial influence in the CDC.100 Part of the reason for this temporary coherence of southern organizational leadership was the Governor's ac quiescence in Unruh's operations. Another reason was the support Unruh enjoyed from the Kennedy administration. The major source of opposition— albeit rather ineffectual op position— to Unruh's hegemony in this period was the CDC. The widening breach between Unruh and Governor Brown after 1962, Wyman's eventual decision to ally himself with the Governor, and the death of President Kennedy thereafter undermined Unruh's dominion over the southern California organizational apparatus and helped to restore the rampant multi-factionalism, which is "normal" to southern Califor nia Democracy. It is not the purpose of this dissertation to chronicle in detail the power struggle between Governor Brown and Speaker Unruh. That stnuggle, however, rever berated through every aspect of the inner life of the Demo cratic party, including the selection of state committee QQ Interview with Jesse Unruh, June 4, 1971. 100Ibid. 196 officers. Consequently, some of its highlights require attention here. Through 1963, the growing enmity between Brown and Unruh was punctuated by some well publicized clashes over control of the formation of the national convention delega tion and over management of the 1964 presidential campaign in California. These quarrels carried over into 1964 and added to the burgeoning rancor of the extremely divisive United States senate primary battle, in which the Governor backed Controller Alan Cranston, and the Speaker supported former White House Press Secretary Pierre Salinger. The Brown-Unruh conflict was also aeted out in the contest over the national committeewoman post between Carmen Warshaw, Unruh's close friend and ally, and Elizabeth Gatov Smith, who was supported in her bid for a third national committee term by Governor Brown.101 Mrs. Warshaw*s defeat on this occasion was the im mediate organizational antecedent of the calamitous battle olfer the state chairmanship in 1966. It came on a test vote on Unruh*s motion to allow the seating of alternates ^^Bifurcation also affects the election of nation al committeemen in California. Tradition dictates that one come from the north and the other from the south. Mrs. Warshaw claimed that Eugene Wyman had promised to support her for national committeewoman and then reneged when he decided to seek the national committeeman's post, with the wholehearted endorsement of Governor Brown. Since Wyman resided in southern California, as did Mrs. Warshaw, tradi tion required that the national committeewoman be a north erner . 197 102 for the national convention delegatee who were absent. When the Brown forces won by ninety-four to fifty-six, Mrs. Warshaw withdrew from the race, with a statement denouncing the "pressures" that had been exerted to defeat her and an nouncing her candidacy for the southern dhairmanship.103 Mrs. Warshaw was urged to run for the southern chairmanship by those officials who had backed her for the national committeewoman position^-and who now tried to "cut their losses" and "save face" by capturing the south ern chairmanship.As Mrs. Warshaw explained the situa tion, her supporters "had stuck their necks out" for her in the national committee contest. "Politics," she said, "is a system of rewards and punishments, and one form of pun ishment is to be left out of the action.After losing to Brown and Wyman in the national committee race, "the officeholders had to demonstrate that they were part of the 'ins' and they needed a base of support."***7 When she 102los Angeles Times, June 28, 1964. 103Ibid.j Long Beach Press-Telegram, June 28, 1964. *04Interview with Carmen Warshaw, August 31, 1970. In addition to Unruh, her supporters included U. S. Senator Clair Engle and six congressmeni George Miller, Harry Sheppard, Harlen Hagen, Cecil King, and Lionel Van Deerlin, all of whom joined in a telegram urging her election (Santa Monica Evening Outlkok, June 27, 1964). *05Interviews with Carmen Warshaw, August 31, 1970; and Jesse Unruh, June 4, 1971. ***®Interview with Carmen Warshaw, August 31, 1970. 198 "graciously withdrew" her bid for the national committee- woman position, her supporters argued that Brown could not 108 oppose her for southern chairman. Or, as one of her most prominent supporters put it t "Carmen was forced down the Governor's throat,"109 The result was the deceptively unanimous election of Mrs. Warshaw as southern chairman in 1964.110 The hostilities of 1964 plunged the Democratic Party into a Hobbesian state of war. By January, 1965, enmity between California's two leading Democrats had de veloped to such an extreme degree that the Brown and Unruh groups attending the presidential inaugural travelled to Washington on different planes, stayed at different hotd&s, went on separate tours, and, with one exception, held separate festivities.111 As one reporter waggishly ob served : Because of the sticky political situation in the Golden State, Californians came in two dis tinct groups, one led by Governor Brown and the other led by Assembly Speaker Onruh. It was ru mored, however, that the President would be 108Ibid. 109 Interview with Jesse Unruh, June 4, 1971. 110Governor Brown made the nominating speech ( Los Angeles Times, August 17, 1964). 111San Fernando Valley Times, January 21, 1965; Beverly Hills Times. January 21. 1965. 199 inaugurated once and that therefore all muId have to attend the same ceremony. The main axis of conflict remained between the Governor and the Speaker, but, as that conflict grew, it sucked into its vortex of acrimony all of the other poten tial forces of dissension. The main battleground was in Los Angeles, where, by 1965, there were two Democratic parties, one loyal to Brown and the other to Unruh. Each had its own base in the organizational structure, the Governor's in the office of the national committeeman and the Speaker's in the state committee and in the Los Angeles county committee. Each had its own fund-raising operation and its own coterie of supporters among volunteer groups. As the Brown-Unruh split widened into a chasm, the Democratic party shattered along a multiplicity of fis sures. The southern chairman, Carmen Warshaw, feuded open ly with National Committeeman Eugene Wyman, who was now firmly alighed with Brown. The Brown-Wyman versus Unruh- Warshaw conflict spilled over into the Los Angeles mayor alty race* Wyman and his wife, a member of the Los Angeles city council, backed James Roosevelt against Samuel Yorty, who enjoyed the services of a former Unruh staff member, albeit without the Speaker's endorsement.113 There was a H ^ Beverly Hills Times, January 21, 1965. Ill Frontier Magazine, March, 1965, pp. 5-10; Los Angeles Times, February 7, 1965. 200 minor skirmish in a national committeewoman election when Mrs. Gatov resigned. The story "leaked" that the Governor had offered to back Mrs. Warshaw for the post. Mrs. War shaw announced that she "preferred to seek election to the state chairmanship in 1966."U-4 Former United States Senator, Pierre Salinger, now in the Brown camp, feuded with Mrs. Warshaw over the payment of debts incurred in the 1964 senatorial primary.**5 The breach between executive and legislative officeholders widened when James Mills, an assembly ally of Unruh's, accused Hale Champion, State Finance Director and Brown's closest political advisor, of making illegal transfers of public funds.**® This incident triggered an unprecedented public attack on Unruh by State Chairman Roger Kent, who, in turn, was publically casti gated by Mrs. Warshaw and by Los Angeles County Chairman Paul Posner.117 The Brown-Unruh split, thus, further ex acerbated north-south hostilities. The CDC took up the cudgel on the side of Brown, only to split with him later over CDC President Simon Casaday’s personal attacks on President Johnson.**® **4Lqs Angeles Herald Examiner, July 12, 1965. **5Lqs AHgeles Times, February 17, 1965. **6Lo. Angeles Times, March 10, 1965. **7Los Angeles Times, March 12, 1965. **®LOS Angeles Herald Examiner, March 201 The maelstrom of vituperation subsided after Brown, appearing with Unruh before a meeting of the California Democratic congressional delegation, made a firm commitment 119 to run for reelection* This removed a major inducement for continued assaults on the Governor by Unruh supporters. Unruh said that he would not oppose Brown's bid for reelec tion and announced his disengagement form internecine war- 120 fare. Official party leaders were able to achieve a degree of harmony in castigating the CDC for its increase ingly vehement attacks on the Johnson administration. Ro$er Kent resigned fsom the position of state chairman to 1 22 head Brown's campaign in northern California. His re placement, Robert Coate, had a more amicable relationship 12 3 with Mrs. Warshaw— at least temporarily. And, after suffering substantial damage at the hands of Los Angeles Mayor Sam Yorty in the 1966 primary, Brown seemed moved to reach an accommodation with the Unruh camp.1^ All of these moves amounted to little more than an 119Los Angeles Times, March 23, 1965, 120Los Angeles Times, March 24, 1965t April 25, 1965. --------- 121 Los Angeles Times, August 23, 1965. 122 Los Angeles Times. August 25, 1965. 123 Interview with Carmen Warshaw, August 31, 1970. 1^*Lob Angeles Times, June 8, 1966. 202 armed truce. The pledge that Unruh and Brown had made to the congressional delegation to seek a reconciliation re sulted in some formal gestures of cooperation. Unruh, for example, was appointed chairman 66 Brown's campaign execu tive committee, and Unruh's close friend and administrative assistant, Sam Hartog, was appointed deputy southern Cali fornia campaign manager.125 One concession that Brown had to make in return for such public courtesies was a promise 126 to support Mrs. Warshaw for the state chairmanship. But, in the main arena of conflict, Los Angeles, the Brown and Unruh forces remained separated, and there was little contact between them. "Peace" in southern Cali fornia meant the absence of open warfare. The hostilities that continued to seethe beneath the surface of public amicability were to find expression one more spectacular fratricidal ritual before the general election: the selec tion of the state chairman at the 1966 state committee meeting.12 ^ 125 Los Angeles Times, July 13, 1966. 126 Interview with Edmund G. Brown, August 31, 1971. 127 A large part of the account of the 1966 state committee election, which is presented below, is based upon personal observations, including those made in informal conversations with Democratic party leaders and organiza tional staff people. Newspaper accounts and other sources are cited mainly in supplementation of these observations. 203 The preliminaries for the chairmanship contest be gan early and with a degree of public cordiality. Late in 1965, Mrs. Warshaw began praising the Governor and, after a brief skirmish with one of Brown's campaign managers, ex hibited a cooperative attitude by agreeing to change the date of a major state committee fund-raiser in order to avoid conflict with a Brown dinner.^28 Governor Brown, in turn, told her that he would support her for the state chairmanship.Mrs. Warshaw later reciprocated by pub- lically announcing that she would vote for Brown in the primary. Her announcement was qualified, however: while she favored Brown's reelection, she could not help him be cause, as she interpreted the Elections Code, the state committee and its officers were prohibited from making pri- raary endorsements. After the primary, Mrs. Warshaw an- 128 Los Angeles Times, December 31, 1965; January 4, 1966. ^^Los Angeles Times, January 4, 1966. 130Los Angeles Times, March 11, 1966. Similar qualms did not prevent State Chairman Robert Coate from working for Brown in the primary campaign. The enthusiasm of Mrs. Warshaw's endorsement of Brown was tempered by two factors, in addition to the generally negative feeling that people in the Unruh camp manifested toward the Governor. First, in early 1966, Unruh, uncertain about his own political future, was pursu ing a meandering course, which seemed to be leading him to retreat from his pledge of support to the Governor, Ulti mately, Unruh did issue a lukewarm statement of support. But, in October, he left the United States and did not re- 204 nounced that the southern section would devote "its full resources and capabilities" to the Brown campaign and wrote a letter to the Governor praising his accomplishments.131 It is understandable that Brown's supporters took Mrs. Warshaw1s pre-primary statement as something less than a wholehearted endorsement.132 It should be noted that Mrs. Warshaw's interpretation of the Code did not prevent the southern section from arranging an itinerary of speaking engagements for Lloyd Hand a short time before he announced his primary challenge to Lieutenant Governor Glenn Ander- 133 son.JJ Nor did it prevent the southern section's execu tive secretary from retaining his interest in a public re lations firm representing the primary election challenger turn until after the election (Lou Cannon, Ronnie and Jesse. a Political Odyssey [Garden City, New York: uoumeaay & Company, Inc., 1969), p. 283). Secondly, Mrs. Warshaw and her husband had close political connections with Brown's primary opponent, Mayor Samuel Yorty. Louis Warshaw had served on a Yorty dinner committee in 1965 and was a Yorty-appointed member of the Los Angeles Airport Commission (Santa Monica Evening Out look, J*ly 27, 1966). Louis Warshaw did not take a public siand when Yorty ran against Brown but he did contribute to Brown's campaign (Los Angeles Times, August 16, 1966). 131 Los Angeles Times, August 11, 1966; Monterey Park Californian, July 3, 1966. 132Hollvwood Citiien News. June 24, 1966. 133 Los Angeles Herald Examiner, January 3, 1966. Hand was not yet an official candidate, although it was common knowledge that he would run. The tour was eventual ly cancelled. 205 i ■»! in the twenty-ninth congressional district. The incum bent in the twenty-ninth, Congressman George Brown , Jr., had been battling with Mrs. Warshaw over the disposition 135 of funds from a state committee dinner. Both Brown and Anderson had long-standing feuds with Jesse Unruh. Both gave active support to Mrs. Warshaw*s opponent in the state committee election. Amicability gave way to rampant acrimony in July, when Assemblyman Charles Wareen of Los Angeles announced his candidacy for the state chairmanship.^® Warren's can didacy Bad two major consequences. One was to put Governor Brown into a difficult position between his own supporters, most of whom rallied behind Warren, and the Unruh people, who would be completely alienated if he failed to support Carmen Warshaw. In view of his commitment to Mrs. Warshaw, the Governor might haveedone at least two things to avert the impending holocaust, if he had been disposed to act quickly and decisively. He might have firmly discouraged Warren when the latter informed him of his intention to run for the chairmanship. The evidence indicates that Brown did try to discourage Warren from making the race, but that ^•^Lonq Beach Prese-Teleqram, April 27, 1966. 135 Los Angeles Times, January 19, 1966; January 30, 1966; January 31, 1966. 136Los Angeles Herald Examiner, July 11, 1966. 206 the effort was not a strong one. It consisted of a mild admonition that being state chairman "would hurt" Warren. 137 Failing this effort, the Governor might have is* sued an unequivocal announcement of support for Mrs. War* shaw immediately after Warren's entry into the race. In stead, three days after Warren's announcement, the Governor issued a statement saying that he would "take a positon" in the race but not indicating what that position would 138 be. On July 19th, he indicated informally that he would 139 "probably" support Mrs. Warshaw. Not until August 5th did the Governor issue a formal endorsement of Mrs. War shaw, and, even then, the tone of his statement was, at best, lukewarm. Brown said that he would vote for her, that it is traditional for the southern chhirman to succeed to the state chairmanship every two years, and that she had worked hard for the party.140 Thereafter, he did nothing to advance her sandidacy or to prevent some of his closest advisees from dropping hints that the Governor would not be inordinately upset if Warren were elected instead of Mrs. 137 Interview with Edmund G. Brown, August 31, 1971. 138 Long Beach Press-Telegram, July 14, 1966. 139 Pomona Progress Bulletin, July 19, 1966; Holly wood Citizen News, July 30, 1966. 140 Los Angeles Times, August S, 1966. 207 Warshaw.By the time Brown issued his formal statement, it was too late (and the statement was probably too weak) to avert a disasterous fight. Between Warren's announce** ment of his candidacy in early July and Brown's formal statement in early August, the Governor's ambivalence had already unleashed the dogs of war. The second consequence of Warren's candidacy fol lowed from the first: as the various factions in the party began to rally behind one candidate or the other, the Demo cratic Party again shattered along virtually every crack beneath its laboriously constructed fascade of unity. By the end of July it was apparent that every feud in the party would be acted out in the state committee election— less than three months before the general election. Warren had the backing of Lieutenant Governor Glenn Anderson, Controller Alan Cranston, three congressmen, in cluding George Brown, Jr., National Committeeman Eugene Wyman, former U. S. Senator Pierre Salinger, State Senator George Miller, Jr., the CDC, the northern state committee leadership, Ro$er Kent, and two of the three top leaders of 142 Brown's campaign staff. Mrs. Warshaw's support came ^^Los Angeles Times, August 11, 1966. 142 San rranclsco Chronicle, August 15, 1966; Los Angeles TimesT'July"T^T, 19&6; San~Diego Union, August ^LS, 1906; Los Angeles Herald Examiner. August l5. 1966. 209 mainly from legislative officeholders: twenty-one of the state's twenty-four Democratic congressmen and thirty-two of the fifty-five Democratic state legislators running for 143 reelection or for the newly carved state senate seats. Thus the 1966 contest ultimately reflected every long standing schism in the Democratic Party: liberals against moderates and conservatives, CDC against incumbent office holders, one group of officeholders against another, north against south. There was some overlap between the protag onists in each of these cleavage pairs, but the contending forces were generally grouped along these preestablished lines. The contest, however, did yield some novel divi sions. The most noteworthy was within the Governor's staff.144 Two members of Brown's troika of campaign man agers, Don Bradley and Hale Chfcmpion, favored Charles 143Long Beach Press-Teleqram, July 7, 1966; Eos Angeles Times, June 14, 1956. ftne state legislators in cluded eight of the thirteen Democrats seeking reelection to the state senate and twenty-four of the forty-two Demo cratic assemblymen who were dandidates either for reelec tion to the assembly or for election to the state senate ( Long Beach Independent, July 13, 1966). 144Another.inovel split was between Unruh and his formerly close fiiend, Assemblyman Robert Crown, who made a seconding speech for Warren (San Francisco Chronicle, August 15, 1966). Crown's disaffection began early in 1966, when Unruh was contemplating running for a state senate seat. Crown hoped to succedd Unruh to the speakership. He broke with Unruh because he thought that the Speaker was supporting Carlos Bee for the post (Cannon, ioc, cit). 209 Warren or, perhaps more accurately, opposed Mrs. Warshaw. The third, Frederick Dutton, supported Mrs. Warshaw. At one point, the battle within the Governor's staff grew so intense, that Dutton threatened to resign.Brown complained plaintively to reporters; "My people are all over the lot. I've never seen a greater or more emotional division. They seem more interested in this than in the governorship."I*7 Given the public support of the Governor, the Speaker, and a majority of legislative delegates who, with their appointees, made up an estimated sixty percent of the state committee, it would seem that Mrs. Warsharw should have won the chairmanship. Instead she lost by five votes. Mtb. Warshaw supplied part of the explanation for her own defeat: "Appointments [to the state committee] are gener ally made as rewards for contributions or party work" and "are seldom made with the understanding that the appointees will support the nominee delegate in the state commit** 148 tee." "Often," she said, "nominees appoint people in 1^5Dutton was probably appointed to Brown's cam paign staff as party of the Unruh-Brown reconciliation ( Los Angeles Times, August 15, 1966). 1<6San Diego Union. August 15, 1966; San Francisco Chronicle. August 15, 1966). — — — — — 147 San Diego Union. August 15, 1966. 14®Interview with Carmen Warshaw, August 31, 1970. 210 149 hopes that the appointees won't do them any harm." She cited the example of a congressmen who believed (erroneous* ly, she thought) that he owed his election to the CDC. The congressman appointed CDC people to the state committee, and, although the congressman supported Mrs. Warshaw, his 150 appointees voted for Warren. Another related reason may have been that the elec tion was conducted by secret ballot. Mrs* Warshaw's sup porters initially opposed a secret ballot, and the by-laws 151 committee split five-to-five on the question. However, in a preelection meeting with the Governor, Mrs. Warshaw agreed to the secret ballot as part of the price for Brown's reaffirmation of support for her candidacy before the election.Mrs. Warshaw later made a motion for the secret ballot— out-of-order— "in the interests of party unity."153 She believes that she gained votes by support- 154 ing the secret ballot. The absence of open voting, taow- 149Ibid. 150lbid. 151Los Angeles Tiroes, August 15, 1966* Sacramento Bee, August 14, 1966. 152 Interview with Carmen Warshaw, August 31, 1970; San Diego Union, August 15, 1966. 153 Los Angeles Heiiald Examiner, August 15, 1966; San Diego Union, August 15, 1966. *5*Interview With Carmen Warshaw, August 31, 1970. 211 ever, did mean that, even if they had been disposed to do so, nominee delegates could not hold their appointees re sponsible for their votes. Mrs. Warshaw did concede that the last minute switch to a teller vote resulted in "a 155 poorly organized operation." "Usually all of this would be well-planned."156 Other factors also may have contributed to Warren's upset victory. One of these was the dispirited frame of mind that seemed to prevail among Mrs. Whrshaw's forces. A week before the state committee meeting, the southern staff began making contacts with friends in each district for the purpose of making a vote count.157 The count indicated that Mrs. Warshaw would lose by twenty-five votes. TThe staff was only twenty votes off the mark: she lost by five.) Defeat seemed so certain that Mrs. Warshaw had her personal files removed from the state committee offices be- 1 5ft fore she left for Sacramento. 155Ibid. 156Ibid. 1S7Ibid. 15®Interview with Carmen Warshaw, August 31, 1970. The precaution proved to be a wise one. By Sunday night, Warren's supporters had placed a guard on the door to the suite containing the offices of both the state central com mittee and the Los Angeles county committee. When the state committee staff arrived early Monday morning, Warren's people were occupying the offices and would not allow Mrs. Warshaw's people access to their own desks (per sonal observation as a member of the staff). 212 Mr*. Warshaw thought about withdrawing from the race in order to avoid a fight that might damage her 159 friends among the nominees. She even urged some of her officeholder supporters, who offered to come to the meeting in order to help her cause, "to stay away for their own good."*®0 One of those who stayed away until the last minute was Jesse Unruh. Unruh had given a strong endorse ment to Mrs. Warshaw1s candidacy but, in accordance with his 1965 statement of disengagement from party feuds, his participation in the state committee election battle was minimal. Unruh feels that he "probably could have gotten her elected" if he had tried.*®* But, by 1966, he "real ized that the state organization wasn't worth the ef* fott."^®2 The damage he had suffered in prior organiza tional fights, particularly in the 1964 national committee- woman contest, led him to shy away from the 1966 battle. Mrs. Warshaw, he indicated, "knew that he wasn't going to get into it."*®3 Unruh's absence from Sacramento until the day before the meeting and his detached posture after he 159 Interview with Carmen Warshaw, August 31, 1970. 1<0ibid. 16interview with Jesse Unruh, June 4, 1971. 162 Ibid. 163Ibid. 213 arrived contributed to the defeatist frame of mind among Mrs. Warshaw's supporters. Mrs. Warshaw feels that she might have won if she had made a strong, last-minute drive for votes. But she did not do so. On the day before the meeting, while Charles Warren was out button-holing delegates, Mrs. War shaw returned to Los Angeles to attend a funeral for the wife of a Democratic gongressman.One reason Mrs. War shaw gave for not waging the strong campaign that might have gained the few votes needed for victory in the last few days before the election is that winning by a small margin of votes, after a bitter battle, "would have made it difficult, and perhaps impossible, to put together an oper ation afterward."*®5 Another factor contributing to Mrs. Warshaw's de feat— perhaps the principal factor— was the ambivalent posture of the Governor. Before the state committee meet ing, Mrs. Warshaw and some of her supporters, including Assemblymen Leroy F. Greene and John F. Foran, Assembly Majority Leader George N. Zenovich, and Congressman John Tunney, met with Brown in order to confirm his support for *®*Sacramanto Bee, August 14, 1966. Warren later said that one reason he won was that he waged an intensive, personal campaign among delegates. While Mrs. Warshaw re mained in Los Angeles through July and August, Warren was visiting districts throughout the state (San Francisco Chronicle, August II, 1966). *®5Interview with Carmen Warshaw, August 31, 1970. 2X4 her candidacy,166 Mrs. Warshaw had grown increasingly pessimistic about the Governor's promised backing. Con gressman Tunney, who believed that Brown would keep his commitment, asked him to make the nominating speech for Mrs. Warshaw. Brown refused. He did agiree, however, that, if Tunney would make the nominating speech and if Mrs. Warshaw would endorse a secret ballot, he would make a statement, before the nominations, reaffirming his endorse ment of her candidacy and "Saying nice things" aboht her.167 There then ensued one of the strangest episodes of an already biz2are state committee election. As scheduled, the Governor did make a short speech before the nominations for state chairman. As Mrs. Warshaw described the setting, she was standing, with Tunney, on one side of the stage during Brown's address, while Eugene Wyman and Hale Cham pion were standing on the other side. The Governor con cluded his remarks and started to leave the stage— without making the promised endorsement. Mrs. Warshaw rushed up to the presiding officer. Assemblyman Carlos Bee, who was one of her supporters, and informed him that the Governor had not finished speaking.He gavelled the now tumultuous 166Ibid. 167tbid.; Los Angeles Herald Examiner, August 15, 1966. Interview with Carmen Warshaw, August 31, 1970. 215 meeting back to order and conveyed this information to the delegates. The Governor then returned to make his an nouncement. He praised both candidates as "fine and out standing " people# "either one of whom Z could work with."^-®® However, he said, "the buck stops in the governor's of fice. I had to make a choice. I made that choice...for Carmen Warshaw."I70 There was a pause, and then he added, 171 in an apologetic tone, "I hope you will all understand." In the buzzing confusion that ensued on the floor, it was apparent that many Warren supporters interpreted the Governor's statement as a victory for their side; none of those backing Mrs. Warshaw seemed to think that the Gover nor's statement was designed to help them. The next day, Mrs. Warshaw's husband depicted Brown's "weak, pussyfooting endorsement" of his wife as "a 172 total double cross." He complained bitterly that the Governor "did not keep his commitment that he was going to 17 3 work for Carmen." Just before the state committee elec tion* Warren seemed to hold a similar view, when he sug- -----------— r------------- San Francisco Chronicle, August 15, 1966; Los Angeles Herald Examiner. August 15, 1966. 170 San Francisco Chronicle, August 15, 1966; I*os Angeles Times, August is, 1^66. 171 Personal observation at the meeting, 172Los Angeles Times, August 16, 1966. 173ibid. 216 gested that Brown could shape the outcome if he would "pick up the phone and pressure a number of delegates for Mrs. Warshew.1,17 4 In September, Mrs. Warshaw kept reviving the bitter battle on the front page of Los Angeles Times, with the public charge that the Governor had held "a Warren victory celebration at the m a n s i o n . said; Pat called me and told me a number of times during the past months that I should trust him— that I've got a lot of enemies, but that he was going to take care of things. I trusted him and didn't do anything. Apparently he did less them anything and was helping Warren. I told him repeatedly that mem bers of his staff were campaigning for Warren. She hinted that she might vote for Reagan, saying of Gover nor Brown, "If he can't keep his word to his friends, then sustained a studied ambiguity about whom she was going to voteefor in the November election. But she did hold a friendly and well-publicized "private" meeting with Ronald He would answer that he couldn't control them hat they weren't on his campaign staff any i 77 he can ft keep his word to the people." Mrs. Warshaw 174 Los Angeles Times, August 11, 1966. 175 Los Angeles Times, September 8, 1966. 176Ibid. 177Ibid. 217 178 Reagan in her home before the election. Governor Brown denied that there had been a double cross: "I voted for Mrs. Warshaw and my appointees to the state committee voted for her. But at no time did 1 try to dictate the convention's choice nor did 1 indicate to Mrs. 179 Warshaw that 1 would.” In a September news conference, following Mrs. Warshaw's statement, he said: "I supported her in her campaign publicly and privately, and am sorry 180 she lost." He refused to answer any further questions about the matter. The judgment of each side was partly substantiated and partly contradicted by Charles Warren. Much of the blame for the rampaging factionalism in the Dmmocsatic party, which was so evident in the 1966 state committee election, lay with the Governor: "He failed to recognize that you must exercise power in you own party.”181 He said that ”If Brown had been a strong political governor, I would not have run for state chairman because the condi tions that led me to involve myself would not have ex- 182 isted.” Contrary to Mrs. Warshaw*s view of the Gover- 178 Los Angeles Times, October 19, 1966. 179 Los Angeles Times, August 16, 1966. 180 Los Angeles Times, September 10, 1966. 181 Los Angeles Times, January 31, 1967. 182Ibid. 218 nor's role, Warren said that he had not received any en couragement from Brown and that Brown's men had told him that the Governor was committed and asked him not to run. Brown "didn't double-deal" Mrs. Warshaw. Warren admitted, however, that "there's some validity" to Mrs. Warshaw's complaint that the Governor had not done anything to help her: "If the Governor had got out and worked diligently, he could have defeated There is no way of assessing the independent effect of the 1966 state committee fight in furthering the general decline of the Democratic Party. Certainly the Governor was hurt by the publicity over the affair. He had already alienated a large segment of the party's left wing in the fight to remove Simon Casady as president of CDC. Now he alienated many of the party regulars who had supported Mrs. Warshaw. Legislative nominees also suffered damage. Com ments made by several of them in the immediate aftermath of the battle indicated that they felt bereft of an important source of campaign support and that Warren could not or would not raise money for them. Warren found that the position of state chairman did not give him command over an on-going program or the 219 resources to sustain it. The morning after her defeat, Mrs. Warshaw emptied the state committee bank accounts of the money she had raised and distributed the funds to nom- 184 inees.” Warren found it difficult to raise funds and, by May, 1967, had a $20,000 deficit,*85 It is true that all elements in the party had trouble raising funds once the party lost control of the governorship. But it also appears that many of Warren's supporters were more inter ested in defeating Mrs. Warshaw and Jesse Unruh than in using the state committee as an organizational base. Con sequently, they did little to help replenish the state com mittee's coffers. The state committee wound up where it had been in 1959— without a headquarters, without funds, without a staff, and without a program. The state committee elections of 1950 and 1954 highlighted some of the problems that a bifurcated state organisational structure poses for a non-incumbent guberna torial candidate who wishes to see his choice installed as state chairman or regional chairman. For all the tribula tions experienced by Governor Brown in 1966, a sitting governor is generally in a better position to effectuate his choices than a non-incumbent gubernatorial candidate. 184 Interview with Carmen Warshaw, August 31, 1970; personal observation. 185Lo. Angeles Times, May 22, 1967. 220 But even an incumbent governor can find that his options are circumscribed. If his selection happens to coincide with that of the dominant faction within a section, as Governor Brown's did in the northern section, he experi ences no problems. If they do not coincide, the governor may still get his way slipping along the interface of party schisms. A victory gained in a multi-factional fight, how ever, can be extremely costly in terms of increasing ex isting hostilities, creating new ones, and provoking nega tive press coverage. This is the lesson that Unruh had read from the national committeewoman fight in 1964. The governor, therefore, may find it necessary to trade-off his endorsement of a less than desirable candidacy (and control of a section of the state organization) in order to avoid the consequences of a fight or in order to win or cement support. Such an exchange apparently resulted in the Governor's endorsement of Mrs. Warshaw for the southern chairmanship in 1964 and for the state chairmanship in 1966.186 Sacrificing control of a section of the state com mittee may not be an inordinately high price to pay for avoiding a damaging fight or for other political values, because •emocratic eandidates for statewide office in i ac This analysis was confirmed by Governor Brown in an interview, August 31, 1971. 221 California do not build their campaigns on the state com mittee machinery. Each candidate develops a personal or ganization and operates his own campaign.187 But, whatever a governor decides to do about the selection of state com mittee officers, the case of 1966 suggests that abstention or a bargain for the sake of little more than peace may be far less costly than ambivalence. The state committee election of 1966 does present some difficult problems of interpretation and analysis. If one accepts the Governor1s word that he did support Mrs. Warshaw and did not assist Assemblyman Warren, then the fact that his staff and political friends took to the field against Mrs. Warshaw is especially hatid to explain. It is even harder to explain if one considers that Brown's polit ical allies and staff could not have expected to defeat Mrs. Warshaw without a fight which would, at minimum, re sult in publicity damaging to the Governor and to the party and in a deepening of intra-party schisms. Their behavior, however, is not inexplicable, if three factors are taken into account. One is the feeling, evident among many Democrats in August, 1966, that the Governor was going to lose in November. The anticipated 187 Governor Brown pointed to this fact in explain ing his lack of attention to state committee affairs, aside from the election of officers (ibid.). 222 deprivation of the political resources of the governor's office may have led some of those who supported Brown and opposed Mrs. Warshaw to seize upon the chairmanship as an alternative base of operations. Moreover, since the state chairman may gain in stature as party spokesman in the absence of a sitting governor, some may have wished to de prive the Speaker and Mrs. Warshaw of the possession of the politically valuable commodity of spokesmanship, without necessarily having any plans to use this commodity them selves. Even without the support of an incumbent Governor, Mrs. Warshaw would have had the political resources to amplify the importance of the state chairmanship: time to devote full attention to the job, personal wealth, a base of support among a coterie of big contributors, and the support of a majority of state legislators and congressmen. Assemblyman Warren had none of these resources and few al ternative advantages to compensate for their absence. The second major factor that may help account for anomolous behavior of Brown's supporters may have been the strong feelings that surrounded this election. At least two years of the most intense political warfare had cul minated in a desire for revenge, irrespective of the con sequences to the Governor or to the party. A third factor may lie in the personality and/or political style of Governor Brown, whose general perfor- 223 mance as a leader In intra-party affairs was neither adept nor decisive. In the case of the 1966 state committee election, early decisive action by the Governor might have kept his supporters in line and, thereby, might have either squashed Warren's candidacy or blunted its impact. The Governor probably could have done little to prevent Con troller Alan Cranston, Lieutenant Governor Glenn Anderson, Warren's three congressional supporters, and the CDC from mounting a campaign in opposition to Mrs. Warshaw. But he might have rendered their efforts ineffectual by acting quickly to prevent his close associates, including National Committeeman Eugene Wyman, Roger Kent and others in the northern section, and, above all, members of his own cam paign staff, from acting in contravention of his own public position. Even a late decisive action, if only to control his own staff, might have enabled the Governor to cut some of the losses he suffered in this affair— at least in terms of the magnitude of the bitterness against him in the Unruh-Warshaw camp. The Governor, however, was never disposed to exer cise the kind of continuous surveillance of organizational affairs that might have enabled him to prevent small skirm ishes from escalating iito devastating battles. Conse quently, even when he did make his weight felt in organiza tional matters, as he did most notably in ousting Simon 224 Casady from the presidency of CDC, his leadership was ex* ercised too late to circumnavigate a fight that was damag ing to himself and to his party. In a sense, what happened in 1966 was the ultimate outcome of Governor Brown's habitual deficiencies as a party leader. The same lack of strong and continuous leadership that allowed the state chairman contest to snow ball into a fratricidal bloodbath had long before created a vacuum which was filled by factional leaders, each of whom was able to vie for control of a piece of the organization al turf, unrestrained by anticipation of gubernatorial in tervention. Thus, long before 1966, the Governor had, virtually by default, surrendered control of the organiza tional apparatus in southern California to Jesse Unruh. As Richard Harvey had observed; That strong party leadership is important to a governor is attested to by the fact that its rela tive absence was a prime element in the decline and fall of Governor Edmund G. Brown. It most definitely left a vacuum that gave rise to splits in the Democratic machinery, among other things permitting Jesse Unruh to fill the partisan void.1,88 One result of the Governor's inattention to organizational affairs and his ineptness in dealing with them was that a majority party chronically exhibited the kind of open fac- 188 Harvey, op. cit., pi 143. 225 tionalism that is usually associated with the "Minority- itus" syndrome. The election ef state committee officers is of paramount concern to the state central committee. Other business, however, may assume importance. The reports of the by-laws and resolutions committees, which the state committee hears after the election of Officers, sometimes become focuses od dispute and, hence, of interest. By-laws The by-laws committee's report is usually uncontro- versial, perhaps because by-laws revisions are more conven iently accomplished in the smaller, mere knowledgable exec utive committee. On at least one occasion, however, it did become the object of disagreement. In 1960, the delibera tions of the committee became the stage for an attempt to increase southern California's representation on the state central committee's executive committee.189 The by-laws committee, consisting of about ten ammbars and chaired by Senator James Cobey of Madera, met the day before the state committee meeting. The Members were generally unfamiliar with the old by-laws and undertook consideration of amend *®^The following account is taken entirely from an interview with Martin Huff, February 9, 1961. 226 ments without reference to them. Steve Smith, representing Jesse Unruh and Assemblyman Charles Wilson of Los Angeles, presented proposals for amendments to the committee. His presentation was well organized and, in the words of one member of the committee, Nhe conned the committee into thinking that what he was presenting was just a codifica tion of the present by-laws without substantive changes." The core of Smith's proposals was a plan to alter the representation of county committee chairmen on the ex ecutive committee. The inclusion of all fifty-eight county central committee chairmen in the executive committee gives the northern section a heavy majority of votes. Smith wanted to amedd the by-laws so that the chairmen of count ties which do not contain at least one assembly district within their boundaries would have to select one chairman from the counties encompassed by an assembly district to represent them on the executive committee. The chairman of any county having at least one assembly district within its boundaries would still be a member of the committee. Thus, for example, Los Angeles County, which had thirty-one as sembly districts, would still have had only one chairman on the executive committee; the chairmen of the Aleven coun ties in the sixth assembly district would have had to 227 choose one of their number to represent the other ten on the committee. The present proportion of northern county chairmen to southern county chairmen on the committee is fifty to eight; Smith's plan would have made it nineteen to eight. Smith's presentation to the committee was inter rupted by constant challenges from Martin Huff, northern section treasurer. But despite Huff's parliamentary stall ing, the committee adopted Smith's proposals as its report* It adjourned at one a.m. after sending the report to the printer. At four o'clock on the morning of the state com mittee meeting, Huff obtained a copy of the committee re port from the printer and, together with Van Dempsyyy field man for the northern state committee, wrote a minority re port. He also contacted Roger Kent and Don Bradley, both of whom had been occupied with the convention and were un aware of what was happening in the by-laws committee, and secured their support for his minority report. Huff then aroused Senator Cobey from his bed to whow him the report. Under pressure from Kent and Bradley, the Senator decided to reconvene the committee in order to take a closer look at Smith's proposals. The by-laws committee wound up adopt ing Huff's report, with the provision that Smith's propos als be submitted to an interim committee for further study. Eventually they were rejected by the executive committee 228 Resolutions While the general character of state committee re solutions has been described in conjunction with the plat form, to which they are appended, some asperts of the reso lutions proceeding* deserve attention here. The membership of the resolutions committee, like that of the platform committee, is divided evenly between the northern and southern sections. Unlike the platform committee, whose membership is confined to nominees and officeholders, the resolutions committee includes repre* sentatives from other elements of the party. Thus, county chairmen, congressional district co-chairmen, the CDC, and organized labor are typically represented on the resolu tions committee. A large proportion of the state committee resolu tions are conventional statements of pride in the achieve ments of the Democratic party and of criticism of the op position's failings. As was indicated in chapter iii, in comparison to platform planks, resolutions give less com prehensive coverage to major areas of state policy; are 191 Personal observation at the executive committee meeting, September 23, 1961. 229 more often addressed to national policy questions; are more likely to be used for direct partisan attacks on individ uals, actions, and ideologies; are more likely to express a position on ballot propositions; are more likely to deal with the internal affairs of the Democratic party; and, in general, are more likely to address controversial ques tions. Moreover, while the report of the resolutions com mittee does not usually evoke much debate, it is mere like ly to do so than the work of the platform committee. In the five meetings from 1960 to 1966,*®^ there is evidence of only nine resolutions having evoked any contro versy, either in the resolutions committee or on the con vention floor. Of the nine, five pertained exclusively to public policy questions, while four pertained primarily to the internal affairs of the Democratic Party. Two of the five policy resolutions had to do with the state's water resources development program, one with the county-wide school tax, one with discriminatory housing, and one with Vietaam. Of the four non-policy resolutions, one pertained to the purging of communists from Democratic organizations, one to the endorsement of Republicans in elections for non partisan offices, one with the failure of Democratic state legislators to act on labor-sponsored bills, and one with 192 Includes first and only annual meeting in 1963. 230 ■eating of southern delegates at the national convention. The two water policy debates were relatively brief. The one that occurred in 1960 was an extension of the dis pute that initially arose in the state convention's plat form proceedings. It concerned the endorsement of bal&6t Proposition 1, a water bond proposal to finance the Gover nor's water development program. The debate over the water bonds reflected the north-south split in the party: north ern delegates thought that the distribution of water re sources as proposed in the Governor's program was inequita ble and resisted attempts to include a statement of support for the bond proposition in the platform. The issue was finally diverted to the state committee, which, after a brief debate, rectified the failure of convention to en dorse the bond proposition.I93 The water development program also produced a minor skirmish in 1963. The issue this time was the effort of the Metropolitan Water District to delay construction of the East Branch of the Feather River project in order to give priority to the construction of the West Bsanch. The East Branch was to deliver water to San Diego, San Bernar dino, Orange, Riverside, and eastern Los Angeles Coun- 194 ties. Riverside County Chairman James Cook and the 193San Francisco Examiner, August 1, 1960. *9*The account that follows is from the Riverside Press, August 12, 1963. 231 southern state committee's vice chairman, Diane McGinnis, introduced a resolution calling for the completion of the East Branch, as previously scheduled, by the State Depart ment of Water Resources, in 1972. The resolutions commit tee eliminated reference to the East Branch after committee members from other areas along the aqueduct route demanded that specific mention be made of their connections with the project. Cook, McGinnis, and other delegates from southern California counties directly benefiting from the East Branch project eventually accepted wording stating that "no single water agency--no matter how lafcge--should deter the state frcm.. .completing this vital project on time.^95 The resolution was adopted without opposition by the state com mittee. The chairman of the resolutions committee, Assem blyman Jerome Waldie, later expressed surprise that there was no challenge to the resolution from Los Angeles Demo- cr.t..196 The 1963 committee also dealt with arminor squabble over the county-wide school tax. When the resolutions com mittee refused to endorse the tax plan, Assemblyman Leo Ryan took it before the state committee, which reversed the 197 action of the resolutions committee. ----------------------" ’m — ^9®Ibid. The state committee's file of newspaper clippings indicate that the resolution was widely reported in the areas affected by the East Branch project. 197Utfd. 232 The disputes over the fair housing and Vietnam re solutions both arose at the 1966 meeting— after the bitter and exhausting battle over the state chairmanship. After a brief floor fight, the state committee amended a human rights resolution so that, unlike the human rights plank written into the platform the day before, it forthrightly opposed "the repeal of the Rumford Fair Housing Act..."^9® The resolution, however, also included some of the equivo cating language of the platform plank: "we stand ready at 199 all times to amend and improve such laws." Greater interest and acrimony were generated at the 1966 meeting by Vietnam resolutions. The dispute began on Saturday, when the resolutions committee tabled three reso lutions opposing President Johnson1s policy in Vietnam. An anti-war group, including Gerald Hill, president of CDC; Congressman George Brown, Jr.; and Assemblymen John Burton and William Stanton, called a press conference to announce that they would seek a floor fight on a resolution calling for an end to bombing raids, an offer by the United States to negotiate a cease fire, and support for free elec tions.^®*' Hill complained that there seemed "to be an 198 San Diego Union, August 15, 1966. 199Ibid. 2®®Sacramento Bee, August 13, 1966. 201 San Dingo Union. August 14, 1966; Sacramento Bee, August 14, 196&. 233 atmosphere {at the meeting] that it would be better strat egy not to discuss the crucial issues."202 He indicated that the resolution represented the position of the CDC, even though that organization had not acted formally on it.203 The resolution was brought to the floor on a peti tion signed by 125 delegates. It was killed by a two-to- one standing vote on Assemblyman Leo Ryan's motion to refer the resolution back to the resolutions committee. For the purposes of this study, the four resolu tions disputes pertaining to Democratic Party affairs are more pertinent than those falling exclusively within the domain of public policy because they tend to reveal more about the organizational inner life of the party. Perhaps the most revealing of these non-policy disputes occurred in 1962. The Democrats closed their two day meeting of the state convention and the state committee, which had been characterized by an unprecedented absence of dissension, with an angry floor fight over a resolution introduced by 205 Assembly Speaker Jesse Unruh. 202 Sacramento Bee, August 14, 1966. 203ibia. 20*San Diego Union, August II, 1966. 2®^This account is based on personal observation, supplemented by the Liberal Democrat, October, 1962, pp. 5-6; LOS Angela* Examiner. Aumiat 27. 1962; bOS Angelas 234 The battle lines began to form the night before the state central committee meeting, when Unruh appeared before the resolutions committee to offer a resolution, which began with a repudiation of "all forms of totalitar ianism of left and right," condemned the Communist Party and the John Birch Society, called upon "all candidates and legal parties" to do the same, and criticized the Republicans for failing to repudiate John Birch candidates. The object of controversy was contained in two "resolved" clauses: That the State Democratic Chairman be hereby in structed to appoint a committee to recommend with in a year a procedure, which is both effective and fair, to deny membership in any organization which is chartered by an official arm of the Democratic party of any organization which bears the name 'Democrat1 or democratic,1 to any member of the Communist Party, the John Birch Society or any other totalitarian group; and... That we deplore the fact that the Republican Party in California not only has adopted no stand on this serious issue but has actually endorsed three nominees who have admitted membership in the John Birch Society and we call upon the Republican Party to join us in declaring unequivocally to the people of California that there is no place in either of our great Parties for the adherents of totalitarian ideologies or organizations.206 Unruh's main reason for insisting on some statement Times, August 27, 1962; San Francisco Chronicle, August 27, 1962. 206 Copy of Unruh's resolution obtained at the state central committee meeting, August 26, 1962. 235 which called upon Democratic organizations to deny member ship to members of the Communist Party was his expectation that "the main thrust of Nixon's [gubernatorial] campaign 207 was going to be anti-communist." He claimed that Nixon had a list of thirty-five communists, "who were mainly in the CDC."288 His resolution was aimed at blunting the ef fect of the list in the coming campaign. Resolutions committee members, Joseph Wyatt, former CDC president; and Nat Colley, a member of the StSte Board of Education, attacked the resolution, claiming, in part, that the Democratic Party could not expel those whom it did not like because registration is the only legal requirement for becoming a member of the party. After lengthy debate, the resolution was referred to a subcommittee under the chairmanship of Joseph Wyatt. The subcommittee amended and moderated the offending passages, and the resolution was again submitted to the resolutions committee. An attempt by Nancy Swadesh, director of the State Division of Indus trial Welfare, to kill the resolution failed, and the reso lution, now entitled "Resolution No. 14," was presented to the state committee. The revised resolved clauses now read as follows: 207 Interview with Jesse Unruh, June 4, 1971. 208Ibid. 236 that the Democratic State Central Committee de clares that it will continue to take all legal steps to deny membership in any of the official or semi-official branches of the Democratic Party to members of any totalitarian organizations such as the John Birch Society and the Communist Party. He deplore the fact that the Republican Party in California not only has failed to adopt a stand on this serious issue but has actually endorsed three nominees who baye admitted membership in the John Birch Society. 09 While Hugo Fisher, unhampered by dissent from the floor, moved rapidly through several resolutions, the newly elected state chairman, Eugene Hyman, relinquished the gavel to Unruh, who passed it to one of his chief assembly lieu tenants, Tom Bane. Bane was presiding as Senator Fisher read "Resolution No. 14." With this cryptic overture of elaborate gavel-passing, the introduction of the resolution opened a stormy two hour session of intricate parliamentary maneuvering, dramatic rhetoric, angry shouting, .and tri umphant yells— a session in which old party wounds were laid bare, and, perhaps, a few new feuds were started. The fight against the resolution began when Assem blyman Phillip Burton of San francisco made two abortive attempts to kill the measure, one by referring it back to the resolutions committee, which had permanently adjourned, and the other by moving to table. State Senator George 209 Copy of revision obtained at the state central committee meeting, August 26, 1962. 237 Hiller then took the floor in order to try to delete the resolved sections. In a speech punctuated by frequent out bursts of shouting and applause, Miller argued that the re solution would start a "witch hunt" that would endanger "every man who stood up and espoused an uppopular idea" and that it would split the party. He belittled the resolution as being unnecessary, contending that there were not more than thirty-five communists at most in the California Demo cratic Party and that "they will not crush the party, and we will not send it to new heights by this resolution." Miller was joined by Tom Carvey, president of CDC and vice- chairman of the resolutions committee. Jerome Waldie, assembly floor leader and vice- chairman of the resolutions committee, said that he re gretted taking a stand against his Senator [Miller] but felt obliged to speak in favor of the resolution. He pointed out that Carvey had concurred in the amendments to the original resolution and that the final draft had re ceived no dissenting votes in the resolutions committee. Miller closed for the opposition, and his amendment was put to a voice vote. When Bane ruled that the motion was de feated, the meeting began to disintegrate into pandemonium. There ensued a period of involved parliamentary wrangling, which inspired one delegate to compare the pro ceedings to a CDC issues conference. Bane, with obvious 238 reluctance, agreed to conduct a vote by congressional dele gations. After two counts. Miller's motion to delete won by a vote of 267 to 193 (see Table 2). But the noisy tri umph of his supporters lasted for only a moment. Unruh questioned the presence of a quorum and successfully moved for adjournment. The state central committee meeting, which began on a note of blissful harmony, ended amid a confused clamor of dispair, triumph, and vows of revenge. Unruh*s resolution and several others died. Unruh later claimed that his resolution had failed because delegates from "the solid South'* had to leave for home early and that his resolution would be submitted to a meeting of the exec utive committee, which was due to convene next in southern California. The vote by congressional districts reveals the tenacity of the sectional cleavage within the Democratic Party (Table 2). The bulk of Unruh's support came from southern California, which gave him 142 votes of his total of 193 (no votes on Miller's motion to delete the resolved sections)* He gleaned only 51 votes in the northern sec tion, whereas Miller's motion won 210. In the fifteenth, sixteenth, and eighteenth districts, which constitute San Joaquin Valley, Unruh received only 3 votes to 49 for the Miller amendment. The vote also demonstrates the advantages of north- 239 TABLE 2 VOTE ON MILLER'S AMENDMENT TO UNRUH*S RESOLUTION BY CONGRESSIONAL DISTRICTS— STATE CENTRAL COMMITTEE, AUGUST 26, 1962. Northern California Southern California Congressional District Yes No Congressional District Yes No 1 22 2 13 8 0 2 If f “IT” l7 4 13 3 12 5 ' “Tff' 3 11 4 14 5 20 4 0 5 13 ■ r ~ ' 21 6 11 ' 17 4 33 5 1 ' 7 11 1 33 0 3 8 “ b 2 24 . . n __. 1 9 4 1 25 6 30 10 9 ■ T"~" 26 7 11 .. 11 ■" 3 "5 " ' 2^ 0 k 12 11 ff" ■ ■ 28 9 4 14 17 ff 20 3 T T5------- I f f ---- 0 --------- 35-------- 7----1 IS -------------- 33--------- 5 ------------------ 31---------------- 1 ------15 T5 ------------ — T~-------3 ------------------ 33-----------------5 ------15 T3---------0---- 7 34 2” -1T - 35 0 "10 36 0 2 "T7 ■ ■ ■ " 3 2 53------- 5--- 3 Total 200 51 67 142 Total Vote Yea— 267 Total Vote No 193 240 ern cohesion over the faction-ridden southern section. Hiller lost only 20.3 percent of the total northern vote of 251. Thirty-two percent of what Unruh claimed was the "solid South'* voted with Hiller, within the southern sec tion, Unruh*s drop-off was 33 percent in Los Angeles County and 29 percent in the other southern California counties. Two party-related resolutions provoked controversy at the 1963 state committee meeting. The more controver sial of the two was submitted by Paul Shrade, western re gional director for the United Auto Workers. Shrade*s re solution condemned Democratic legislative leaders, partic ularly Assembly Speaker Jesse Unruh, for failing to fulfill Democratic platform pledges. It was accompanied by a seven teen page critique of the 1963 session's efforts in the fields of civil rights, consumer protedfcion, housing, medi cal care, and workers' insurance.21® The chairman of the resolutions committee, Assem blyman Jerome W41die, assigned the resolution to a subcom mittee composed of five members, four of whom were legis lators— amove which effectively killed the measure.211 The resolutions committee, whose members included Hrs. 210"Resolution on Democratic Party Leadership and Responsibility Based on the 1963 California Legislative Session." {Mimeographed.) 211 Inglewood Dally Press, August 12, 1966. 241 Thelma Mahoney, Los Angeles County coordinator for the Com mittee on Political Education (COPE), then unanimously adopted a resolution praising Democratic leaders for "keep* ing California on the path of economic and social stabil ity” and hailing the 1963 legislative session as "one of 212 the most productive in California's history.” When the resolutions committee's report came before the state committee, Shrade tried to get his resolution resubmitted. The committee rejected a move to allow Shrade to speak for three minutes on the grounds that he had fail ed to file his proxy with the Secretary of S t a t e . 213 The committee then voted down a request to reconsider Shsade's resolution and approved the resolution committee's language praising the record of Democratic legislators. Shrade was supported in his efforts by Don Vial, administrative assistant to Thomas Pitts, secretary-trea- surer of the California Labor Federation, AFL3CI0. Pitts himself later joined in Shrade*s attack on the legislature, saying that the state committee1s ommmendation of Democrat ic legislators was a "power play— the same sort used by the legislature's Democratic leadership in scuttling a large 212 Los Angeles Times, August 15, 1963; Long Beach Press-Telegram, August 12, 1966. 213Glendora Press, August 14, 1963. 21*Loe Angeles Tiroes, August 15, 1963. 242 portion of the public interest legislation sponsored by organized labor in the last session..."215 The resolution, 216 he said, was "too brazen to fool anybody." While Shsade's resolution focused oni public policy questions rather than on intra-party affairs, the alignment of labor leaders who participated in the dispute stemmed from the internal condition of both the Democratic Party and the labor movement. This alignment reflected a four way split within organized labor, which coincided with cleavages within the Democratic Party. One was the Brown- Unruh division. Pitts, who generally supported the Gover nor, had feuded with Unruh and with an important Unruh ally in the labor movement, W. J. Bassett, secretary of the Los Angeles County Labor Federation.217 The other was a pro- CDC-anti-CDC division. COPE leaders, represented on the resolutions committee by Mrs. Mahoney, and the Los Angeles County Labor Federation had both been critical of CDC*s pre occupation with lfteft-wing" political causes and looked upon the volunteer organization as a rival for political influ ence in the Democratic Party.218 Shrade, a political liber- 215Ibid, 218Ibid. 217Lo. Angeles Times, May 17, 1965. 218Wilson, op. cit., pp. 274-275. 243 al, had been advocating a close alliance between labor and 2iQ the CDC. ^ Some state committee delegates viewed his re solution as a CDC-inspired effort to embarrass Unruh as revenge for the "Tru^h in Endorsements" Act passed in the 220 1963 legislative session. The other 1963 controversy relating to internal party affairs arose when Attorney General Stanley Mosk in troduced a resolution urging Democrats to oppose the candi dacy for partisan or nonpartisan offices of "Republican party leaders, former Republican party chairmen, or regis tered Republican* who maintain partisan attitudes in non- 221 partisan offices." The resolution was designed to fore stall Democratic support for Superior Court Judge Evelle Younger's candidacy for the nonpartisan office of Los Angeles County district attorney. Younger was a Republican and, at one time, had been Republican county chairman. Appearing before the resolutions committee, Mosk warned, with prophetic accuracy, that if Judge Younger won, he would eventually "be a candidate for governor or attor- 222 ney general..." He complained that there were "a number 219 San Francisco Examiner, August 11, 1963. In 1964, Shrade led a successful fight to deny Unruh the COPE endorsement (Cannon, op. cit., p. 282). 220 Glendora Press, August 14, 1963. 221 Los Angeles Times, August 11, 1963. 222San Diego Union, August 11, 1963. 244 of good examples of Democrats building up Republicans as future candidates for statewide office by supporting them for nonpartisan office*"223 Mosk also charged that two members of the resolutions committee were committed to sup port Republican candidates for nonpartisan offices and ex pressed the hope that they would disqualify themselves from 221 voting bn his resolution. He was alluding to Mrs. Elizabeth Snyder, former state chairman, and to Mrs. Thelma Mahoney, COPE coordinator, both of whom were supporting 225 Younger. *3 Mosk's statement touched off a heated exchange in the resolutions committee, Mrs. Snyder argued: "if you 226 want to make nonpartisan offices partisan than do it. She added: "There isn't a person in this room who hasn't 227 supported a Republican for a nonpartisan office." Mrs. Mahoney complained that "this resolution will put many Democrats in a very embarrassing position."22® John Snyder, of the International Association of Machinists, declared 223Ibid. 11L Sacramento Bee, August 11, 1963. 225Ibid. 226San Diego Union. August 11, 1963. 227Ibid. 22®Sacramento Bee, August 11, 1963. 245 that labor union representatives would have to resign from the state central committee If they were "forced to commit 229 themselves to support only Democrates." And Assemblyman Jerome Waldie, reflecting a concrete dilemma posed by non- partisan local offices, pointed out that the resolution would force Democratic State Chairman Eggene Wyman to sup port his political enemy, Los Angeles Mayor Samuel Yorty, 230 If a Republican ran against him. The resolutions committee referred Mosk's measure to a subcommittee, with Instructions to meet with Mosk and 2 31 "do some work on the language" of the resolution. The state committee eventually approved a reworded resolution urging that, before Democrats supported Republican candi dates for nonpartisan offices, they "Give serious consider ation to the inherent gangers and pitfalls in enhancing the possible future electability of the Republican candidates 232 so supported to partisan public office." The revised resolution did not deter Mrs. Sppder, Mrs. Mahoney, and other prominent Democrats, including Paul Ziffren, from continuing their support for Younger.333 229 San Diego Union, August 11, 1963. 230ib±d. 231 Sacramento Bee, August 11, 1963. 232L— Angeles Times, August 12, 1963. 233W..twood Hill. Pr.El■ October S, 1963. 246 A fourth resolution relating to intra-organization- al affairs involved a threatened fight rather than an actu al one. In June, 1964, the state committee's executive committee adopted a resolution, introdaced by Assemblyman Mervyn Dymally of Los Angeles and supported by Governor Brown, requesting that the California delegation to the Democratic national convention "take all appropriate ac tion to seat the delegates from the Freedom Democratic Party of Mississippi."234 The first week in August, however, Governor Brown, after meeting with President Johnson, suggested, at a closed meeting of the California Democratic congressional delegation, that the executive committee had acted hasti- 235 ly. President Johnson had expressed concern that a floor fight at the national convention over seating the predominantly Negro Freedom slate rather than the all-white Mississippi "regulars" would trigger a walkout by southern 236 delegates. One congressman who attended the meeting re ported: "The word was out that California should remain loose until we see what happens before the Credentials Committee."237 Even though "the word was out," Congressman 23*California EAgle, August 27, 1964; Los Anqhtes Herald Examiner, August 17, 1964. 235 Los Angeles Times, August 13, 1964. 236ibid. 237ibld. 247 Thomas Rees announced that he would ask the state central committee to pass a resolution calling for the seating of jio the Freedom Party delegates. There was ample indication before the state com mittee met that the White House preferred that the state committee take no action on the matter.23® Prominent California party leaders, including Governor Brown, State Chairman Eugene Wyman, National Committeewoman Elizabeth Gatov, and northern Chairman Roger Kent, indicated that they were sympathetic to the Freedom slate but that they preferred to leave the matter in the hands of the national Ji A convention's credentials committee. Roller Kent pointed out that the state central committee "has no authority over 241 the California delegation anyway." While party leaders were opposed to putting the state central committee on re cord in favor of the Freedom slate, they refrained from com- 242 mitting themselves to a floor fight on the issue. * The state committee's resolutions committee pro- ceddd to ignore the counsel of the party leadership. After 238^08 Angeles Herald Examiner, August 15, 1964. 239Lee Angeles Times, August 13, 1964; August 14, 1964; August l7, 1964. 2*°Lob Angeles Timer, August 15, 1964. 2*^Los Angeles Herald Examiner, August 15, 1964. 242Lo. Angeles Times? August 15, 1964. 248 hearing testimony from young Californians who had worked to register Negroes in Mississippi, the committee approved a resolution instructing the delegation to oppose the seating of the Mississippi regulars and to work for the seating of 24*1 the Freedom delegates. When the resolution was presented to the state com mittee, the delegates shouted down Assemblyman William Dannemeyer of Fullerton, who contended that the issue 244 should be left to the credentials committee. The chair man of the resolutions committee, Assemblyman Jerome Waldie, supported the action of his committee, saying that "It would be impossible for a delegation ehosen pursuant to the laws of Mississippi to reflect the basic principles of the 245 Democratic Party." The state committee passed the reso lution in a "roaring" voice vote, "to the accompaniment of 2 46 wild cheers and applause..." Strictly speaking, this resolution involved a threatened fight that never actually materialized. It is included in this discussion for three seasons. First, the state committee, acting in the midst of what one Democratic 24^Pasadena Star News, August 18, 1964. 244Los Angeles Times, August 17, 1964. 245Ibid. 246Ibid. 249 Iflader called a "heady [civil rights] atmosphere,"247 acted contrary to the wishes and advice of most of the party's prominent leaders. The delegates were apparently moved both by an ideological commitment to civil rights and by the emotion engendered by the young civil rights workers who appeared at the meeting. Normally, when party leaders are as interested in a resolution as they were in this one and are united in their position, the state committee mere* ly ratifies their decision. But this was a convention that was genuinely moved by a strong civil rights fervor, but* tressed by a sense of an impending electoral victory.24* * Secondly, the resolution represented an unusual, but not unprecedented, attempt by the state committee to issue instructions to the national delegation, over which the state committee has no legal authority. Most of the members of the delegation were members of the state commit tee,24^ but there is no legal relationship between these two organizational elements. And thirdly, although most members of the national delegation were also members of the state committee, the 247 Interview with Carmen Warshaw, August 31, 1970. 248ibid. 2490wens, Constant!, and Heschler, op. cit., p. 228. Fifty-five percent of the 1964 delegation held membership in the state committee. 2S0 delegation did not follow the state committee's instruc tions. At a delegation meeting ten days after the state committee meeting. Congressman Philip Burton introduced a resolution expressing the delegation's "approval of the ac tion of the Democratic State Central Committee."25® Gover nor Brown, backed by Jesse Unruh, attempted to rule the mo tion out of order.25* Brown told the delegates that Presi dent Johnson was "very, very anxious to avoid a floor 252 fight" over the seating of a Mississippi delegation. Assemblyman Jerome Haldie, who had supported the state com mittee's resolution, came to Brown's assistance by success fully moving to table Burton's resolution.253 The delega tion then voted 114 to 49 in favor of a compromise that had been worked out a short time earlier by the credentials committee.25* The compromise provided that the convention would seat all regular Mississippi delegates who would take a loyalty oath to support the national party ticket. It would also seat, as delegates-at-large, two members of the 250 Los Angeles Herald Examiner, August 25, 1964; Culver City Star News, August 25, 1964. 251 Los Angeles Herald Examiner, August 25, 1964. 252Ibid. 253Ibid. 254 Los Angeles Times, August 26, 1964. 251 255 Freedom delegation. The caucus' action turned out to be academic: while California delegates were debating the issue, the convention was approving the credentials commit tee's compromise formula.2" * 6 The cases discussed above suggest that the resolu tions proceeding has sometimes been an indicator of the internal condition of the Democratic party, although rarely as significant an indicator as state committee elections. The most revealing of the resolutions disputes in the last ten years was the battle over the Unruh resolution. That dramatic struggle demonstrated that a complex network of standing schisms— north versus south, incumbents versus rank-and-file, and liberal versus conservative— continued to exert a centrifugal force withiinthe party at a time when it was near the apogee of whatever surface unity it would attain during the 1960's. Conclusion A committee or almost a 1,000 members, meeting for one day every two years, cannot begin to carry out the tasks with which it is charged by law: 255 San Diego Evening Tribune, August 26, 1964. 256Los Angeles Times, August 26, 1964. 252 Each state central committee shall conduct party campaigns for the party to which it belongs and in behalf of the candidates of its party. It shall appoint committees and appoint and employ campaign directors and perfect whatever campaign organiza tions it deems suitable or desirable and for the best interest of the party. *7 However, the state committee meeting is not a ritual bereft of either meaning or significance. What happens at that meeting both reflects and affects the current condition of the party. The state committee meeting provides an arena in which intra-party conflicts may be acted out and in which the latest settlements, reconciliations, accommoda tions, or adjustments may be forged. It may also provide a stage whereon the lines of the current battles are drawn. At the same time, the state committee meeting may serve as an instrument for developing and/or expressing partisan unity and enthusiasm in the face of an imminent election. It has provided a vehicle for favorably publie cizing party officeholders, candidates, and policy posi tions. It has provided a platform from which an incumbent Governor has launched a major policy initiative, as Gover nor Brown did in the case of his tax reform proposals in 258 1962, Leading Democrats from both the state and nation- 257 Elections Code (1964), sac. 8230 (renumbered 8777). 258 San Francisco Examiner, August 27, 1962. 253 al levels of government have used it as a dramatic setting for attacks on the opposition, which have gained extensive publicity.259 260 The meeting is also an important social occasion* Party leaders and activists from all sections of the state come to see and hear the partyfs notables, exchange gossip, and stoke the fires of partisan enthusiasm. The intensive socializing that takes place at a state committee meeting, in gatherings that range from a t£te-A-tdte over a drink in the El Mirador bar to a mammoth cocktail party, greatly amplify the channels of intxa-party communication. A con siderable amount of political intelligence is disseminated as members exchange ideas and accounts of party happenings in their various areas. In addition to the information 259 Most typically, the meeting is used for drama tizing Democratic charges of Republican "smears." Thus, for example, at the 1962 meeting, Roger Kent and Eugene Wyman called a press conference for the purpose of display ing the "Is Brown Pink?" bumper strips being circulated in the campaign (Sacramento Bee, August 26, 1962). It is also used, with unremitting regularity, to call attention to putative links between the Republican Party and right- wing extremists. Indeed, at every meeting held franm 1960 to 1966, there was a resolution and/or a speech devoted to this cherished subject. One of the more notable of this genre of public relations was the launching of Brown's ef fort to cast Reagan in the extremist mold at the 1966 meet ing. The vehicle was a twenty-nine page treatise, complete with footnotes, entitled "Ronald Reagan, Extremist Collab orator: An Expose" (circulated at the state committee meeting, August 11, 1966 [Mimeographed.]). ®**®Cresap, op. clt., p. 41. that flows through these informal siderable amount of informative prUtml salscial lated in various forms, including position literature, reports from officers of and of other party organisations, end party some of which are published by local districts. Since so many California Democrats are ri gregated in one place, the weekend of the meeting vided a convenient time for holding high level meetings, involving both state and national and in presidential years, for holding nesttags of the no tional convention delegation. Even in years, the presence of a thousand Democratic been an inviting lure for presidential hopefuls, presence, in turn, boosts attendance. Is all of ways, the state committee meeting may be said to fulfill v. 0. Key's dictim that "organisation exists te facilitate collective activity."26^ On the other hand, the stats rarely maximises its potential as a faeili cation and coordination, partly because it one day every two years and partly hecsuss its is not designed to include a sufficiently 261 V. o. Key, Jr., Politics, Parties, Groups (4th ed.; New Yorkt Thomas 7. Crowell 1958] , p. 34. 253 al level* of government have used it as a dramatic setting for attacks on the opposition, which have gained extensive publicity.259 260 The meeting is also an important social occasion* Party leaders and activists from all sections of the state come to see and hear the party's notables, exchange gossip, and stoke the fires of partisan enthusiasm. The intensive socializing that takes place at a state committee meeting, in gatherings that range from a t£te-A-t6te over a drink in the El Mirador bar to a mammoth cocktail party, greatly amplify the channels of intsa-party communication. A con siderable amount of political intelligence is disseminated as members exchange ideas and accounts of party happenings in their various areas. In addition to the information 259 Most typically, the meeting is used for drama tizing Democratic charges of Republican "smears." Thus, for example, at the 1962 meeting, Roger Kent and Eugene Wyman called a press conference for the purpose of display ing the "Is Brown Pink?" bumper strips being circulated in the campaign ( Sacramento Bee, August 26, 1962). it is also used, with unremitting regularity, to call attention to putative links between the Republican Party and right- wing extremists. Indeed, at every meeting held femm 1960 to 1966, there was a resolution and/or a speech devoted to this cherished subject. One of the more notable of this genre of public relations was the launching of Brown's ef fort to cast Reagan in the extremist mold at the 1966 meet ing. The vehicle was a twenty-nine page treatise, complete with footnotes, entitled "Ronald Reagan, Extremist Collab orator! An Expose" (circulated at the state committee meeting, August 11, 1966 [Mimeographed.]). *®°Cr*sap, op. cit*, p. 41. 254 that flows through these informal social channels, a con siderable amount of informative printed material is circu lated in various forms, including position papers, campaign literature, reports from officers of the state committee and of other party organizations, and party newspapers, some of which are published by local districts. Since so many California Democrats are rarely con gregated in one place, the weekend of the meeting has pro vided a convenient time for holding high level strategy meetings, involving both state and national party leaders, and in presidential years, for holding meetings of the na tional convention delegation. Even in non-presidential years, the presence of a thousand Democratic activists has been an inviting lure for presidential hopefuls, whose presence, in turn, boosts attendance. In all of these ways, the state committee meeting may be said to fulfill V. 0. Key's dictim that "organization exists to facilitate collective activity."261 On the other hand, the state committee meeting rarely maximizes its potential as a facilitator of communi cation and coordination, partly because it meets for only one day every two years and partly because its membership is not designed to include a sufficiently representative 261 V. 0. Key, Jr., Politics, Parties, and Pressure Groups (4th ed.; New York: Thomas Y. Crowell Company, 1958), p. 34. 255 sampling of local Democratic activists.262 On one occaslorv however, the meeting did come unprecedentedly close to ful- filling its potential. The first and only annual meeting, held in 1963, was a two and a half day affair, which did not involve the election of officers. Consequently, it permitted the development of a far more extensive and varied agenda than the usual biennial meeting.More over the invitation list contained, not only state commit* tee members, but also the members of all of the Democratic county committees, club presidents, CDC directors and of ficers, congressional and assembly district council chair men, state officers of the Young Democrats, and members of the Finance Committee and Democratic Associates. While1 many members of these groups often serve as appointive state committee delegates, this was the first systematic effort to insure their presence at a meeting. The pptency of the meeting as an attraction was enhanced by the presence 262 By way of contrast, the highly effective Michi gan Democratic state central committee met five times each year, for two to three days at a time. The Michigan com mittee was a much smaller body of about seventy-eight mem bers, making it less than half of the sice of the California committee's executive committee (Robert Lee Sawyer , Jr., The Democratic State Central Committee in Michigan.1949- 19159: t t f h e Rise o^ the New Politics and the New Political Leadership (Ann Arbor: institute oaf Pu&iic Administration, University of Michigan, 1960), pp. 26, 130-131). 263 The description that follows is taken from state committee files containing memoranda and working papers for the meeting. 256 of Vice-President Lyndon B. Johnson and an entourage of federal administrative officials and national committee staff members and officers, including the national chair man, John M. Bailey.^*>4 With two days available and little in the way of mandatory business to conduct, the state chairman, Eugene Wyman, chose to use most of the Saturday session for organ izational workshops and policy seminars in which state and national officials, party leaders, and political techni cians participated. The following exerpt from the Saturday agenda indicates the scope and variety of the program: 2:00 P.M. - Organizational Workshops (1) Registration, Precinct Work and Get Opt The Vote - Assemblyman Tom Bane, Moderator, Assem bly Chambers. Panelists include H. W. 'Bill* Brawley, Executive Assistant, Democratic National Committee; John Saffney; and Bob Hughes. (2) Campaign Communication and Media - Room 4202. Panelists include Walter Leftwich; Gale Kernahan; James Keene; George Reedy, Press Secre tary to the Vice-President; and Carl Greenberg, Political Writer for the Los Angeles Times. (3) Fundraising - Don Bradley, Moderator, Room 4203. Panel includes Elizabeth Gatov; Ethel Longstreet; Howard Sturaan; and Robert Cooley. ^®*There is no record of the total attendance at this meeting in the state committee files. The unusually high number of proxies (1S9), however, indicates a relative ly poor attendance of official delegates. Attendance does bend to be better when presidential hopefuls are present or when a fight is expected over a major state committee office. 257 4:00 P.M. - Policy Seminars (1) Business, Labor and Agriculture - State Director of Finance Hale Champion, Moderator, Room 4202. Rae Wyman, Coordinator. Panelists include Charles Paul, Director of Agriculture; Sidney Bishop, Deputy Postmaster General; Esther Peterson, Assistant Secretary of Labor; Assemblyman Robert Crown; and Senator Virgil O'Sullivan. (2) Human Resources - Attorney General Stanley Mosk, Moderator, Assembly Chambers. Mary Lois Nevins, Coordinator. Panelists include Congressmen Augustus Hawkins and Edward Roybal; Assemb&yman John Moreno; Mrs. Carmen WArehaw; and State Board of Education member Nathaniel Colley. (3) Natural Resources and Conservation - As semblyman Carley V. Porter, Moderator, Room 4203. Madale Watson, Coordinator. Other panelists in clude Hugo Fisher, Director of the State Water Re sources Department; and James Carr, Under Secretary of the Interior. The value of this kind of program was attested to by numer ous complimentary letters and, perhaps more significantly, by numerous requests for transcripts of the workshops and seminars. The 1963 convocation appears to have been unique, not because of the difficulty of amending the Elections Code to provide for more frequent meetings, but because of political circumstances. One of the conditions that yield ed the 1963 meeting was an active chairman, who was able to exploit the opportunities for leadership in his office be- 265 "Agenda, Democratic State Convention and State Cdntral Committee Meeting, August 10 and 11, 1963." (Mimeo graphed.) 258 cause he still enjoyed the backing of the state's two most powerful Democrats: Governor Brown and Speaker Jesse Unruh. Moreover, the Democratic party, while exhibiting signs of serious inner conflict, was not as thoroughly fragmented as it was to become in 1964. By the end of 1964, intra-party hostilities had become so widespread and so intense that it would have been impossible to bring to gether diverse elements of the party without bloodshed. When the state central committee has designated its officers and executive committee, passed its resolutions, and ratified its by-laws, its work is done, and it does not meet again for another two years. Before it adjourns, how ever, it performs one more task— it votes to transfer the powers and responsibilities of the state central committee to the executive committee immediately upon adjournment. It is to this executive committee and the state committee officers that burden of official party activity falls for the rest of the year. CHAPTER V THE EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE: COMPOSITION, ATTENDANCE, AND MEMBERSHIP CHARACTERISTICS Before they were extensively revised in 1962, the "By-Laws of the Democratic State Central Committee" opened with an impressive list of seventeen "objects, purposes and aims" of the state central committee: 1. To conduct Party campaigns for the Democratic Party and its candidates; 2. To solidify, aid and cooperate with all legit imate Democratic Party organizations through out the State; 3. To promote and build up worthy Democrats as the public offices and to present them to the electorate; 4. To endorse and support Democratic candidates; 5. To assure a full ticket of Democratic County Central Committee members in all Counties of the State; 6. To provide the means for making public opin ion effective in influencing the activities of government— in other words, to channel pub lic opinion from society to government; 7. To formulate and present a program for the Party and to do everything necessary to fur ther the success and effectiveness of such program; 8. To promote public discussion of political issues; 9. To set out, spread and publicize the princi ples, programs and platforms of the Democra tic Party; 10. To take all necessary steps to increase the registration of voters with the Party; 259 260 11. To increase the turnout of voters on election day; 12. To raise funds to forward the interest of the Democratic Party and its candidates; 13. To open and maintain Party, Committee and campaign headquarters in all strategic local ities ; 14. To employ and designate administrative offi cers of this organization, that is, campaign directors and other workers for the Party cause; 15. To use all legitimate means to interest the electorate in campaigns and elections; 16. To initiate, support or oppose initiative measures, referendums and recalls, and; 17. To do everything else needful to promote the welfare of the Party to elect its candidates and to cause the Party principles to prevail.i These are, indeed, legitimate and important tasks for party organization. However, given the size of the Democratic state central committee and the circumstances under which it meets, any expectation that the committee as a body will perform these functions would be absurdly optimistic. The 1962 "By-Laws" presented a diminished vision of the pur pose of the state committee: It shall be the purpose of this organization to promote, establish and conduct political campaigns in this State for the nominees of the Democratic Party and to act as the official spokesman for the Democratic Party in this State on all questions of public policy.2 By-Laws of the Democratic State Central Commit tee," July 31, 1960, sec. 3. (Mimeographed.) 2"By-Laws" (1962), sec. 2. The "By-Laws" have remained substantially the same since 1962. 261 This pronouncement, although more modest than the list of seventeen purposes, is no more indicative of the severely limited capacities of the state committee as a whole. An attempt to meet the requirements of reality can be found in a provision of the Elections Code which allows each state central committee to "select from its membership an executive committee to which it may grant all or any of 3 its powers and duties." Until 1967, the Code went no fur ther in stipulating requirements as to the membership, procedure, or organization of the executive committee. In 1967, the legislature codified existing practice by stipu lating that the membership of the executive committee shall include "two members, one of each sex, from each congres- 4 sional district delegation." The executive committee is still relatively free of the statutory incumbrances which render the state committee incapable of acting directly and effectively in matters concerning party organization and policy. The ability of the executive committee to act, how ever, remains circumscribed by the nature of political life in California, particularly by the shibboleths of the non- ^Blections Code (1964), sec. 8230. *A congressional district delegation consists of all state committee members residing in a congressional district. 262 partisan tradition and by the persistent distrust of strong party organization and leadership. But the executive com mittee is important for something more than the prestige that accrues to membership in it. It is significant that southern California Democrats have tried to alter represen tation in the executive committee rather than in the state central committee. As Steve Smith, who worked on behalf of Jesse Unruh's efforts to restructure the executive commit tee, put it: "We are not concerned with the presence of county committee chairmen on the state central committee because the important decisions are made in the executive 5 committee." Composition Lack of evidence makes it difficult to trace the growth of the executive committee. In March, 1938, the San Francisco Chronicle observed that "two dozen Democrats comprise the executive committee which is empowered to ex ercise any and all functions of the State Central Commit tee when the latter body is not in session.6 Five months SBy-Laws committee meeting, May 21, 1961. 6San Francisco Chronicle, March 13, 1936, quoted in Richard Israel, "An Analysis of California State Demo cratic Party Organization: The State Central Committee1 1 (unpublished M.A. thesis, Department of Political, Univer sity of California, Berkeley, 1953, pp. 100-101, 263 later, the Loa Angeles Examiner noted a change in the cora- poaition of the committee's memberahip: To make more appointees feel good and also to dif fuse control, the new executive committee is ex panded from twenty-four members to fifty-seven... four men and four women for assistant chairmen from the north and the same for the south one man and one woman are being selected by each congressional district state committee members...the state chair man of course is a member of the committee.' In 1948, the chairmen of the county central committees were added to the executive committee "on the motion of James Roosevelt, who was seeking a means of adding to his g strength on the committee. This brought the committee's membership total to 126 and gave control of the committee to northern California. Since then, the national commit* teeman and national committeewoman, the presidents of the California Democratic Council (CDC) and the California Fed eration of Young Democrats, representatives of incumbent 7 Los Angeles Examiner, September 17, 1938, quoted in Israel, loc. cit. g Ronald E. Chinn, "Democratic Party Politics in California, 1920-1956" (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Department of Political Science, University of California, Berkeley, 1958), pp. 235-236. Israel observed that in 1952 there was no provision for the inclusion of county chair men in the executive committee and that the state central committee meeting of August 1952 "forgot" to extend execu tive committee membership to county chairmen. However, at the two succeeding executive committee meetings attended by Israel, no one challenged the right of county chairmen to serve on the committee (loc. cit.). 264 legislators, and all Democratic state constitutional offi cers have been added. With California's gain of eight con gressional seats after the 1960 census, the membership of the committee stood at 174. The membership of the commit tee varies in accordance with the number of congressional districts allotted to California and the number of Democra tic incumbents in statewide offices. The "By-Laws" give the formula for determining the size and composition of the committee: 1. All officers of this organization; [10] 2. The Chairman of each County Central Committee; [58] 3. Congressional District Co-Chairmen; [76] 4. National Committeeman and Committee- woraan; [2] 5. Retiring officers of this organization; [10] 6. President of the California Democratic Council; [1] 7. President of the California Federation of Young Democrats; [1] 8. One Congressman, one State Senator, and one Assemblyman from the Northern Sec tion and one Congressman, one State Senator, and one Assemblyman from the Southern Section, each of whom shall be chosen by their respective colleagues; [6] 9. United States Senators; and [2] 10. All State Constitutional Officers* [10] The assemblymen have been chosen by the Democratic speaker or floor leader, the senators by the president pro tempore, g "By-Laws" (1964), sec. 19. State constitutional officers include the governor, lieutenant governor, attor ney-general, treasurer, controller, secretary of state, and four members of the Board of Equalization. 265 and the congressmen by the senior member of the Democratic delegation. Additional legislative incumbents also sit on the committee as congressional district co-chairmen.^ The "By-laws" formula is designed to vest control of the executive committee firmly in northern California. The two largest membership categories give the north eighty-two positions on the committee (thirty-two congres sional co-chairmen and fifty county chairmen) and southern California fifty-two positions (forty-four congressional co-chairmen and eight county chairmen). The numerical strength of northern members is enhanced by their tendency to vote as a unit, while the members from southern Califor nia tend to split on many issues dividing north and south. One striking example of the schismatic propensity of southern Californians occured whan the executive committee voted on Steve Smith's proposal to decrease the represen tation of northern county chairmen on the committee. Don Rose, chairman of the Los Angeles county committee, argued and voted against the proposal. On the other hand, northern domination of the ex ecutive committee is somewhat curbed by the fact that the committee usually meets alternately in the north and south. 10Letters from Ralph M. Brown to Roger Kent, August 10, I960) and from Harry R. Sheppart to Roger Kent, August 24, 1960. 266 Southern Californians are in the majority when the commit tee meets in northern California, northern members prevail. While northern county chairmen usually outnumber southern county chairmen at meetings, they do not boost northern attendance to a majority when the meeting is in southern California (Table 3). They do give the north a majority when the meeting place is in northern California. Without the presence of northern county chairmen, northern members would have been outnumbered by southern members in four of the nine meetings held in the north from June, 1959, to March, 1964.^ The scope of northern control is also lim ited by the fact that when votes are taken on party ques tions pertaining only to conditions in one section, mem bers from the other section usually refrain from voting. The executive committee suffers from a rate of membership turnover even greater than that which afflicts the state central committee. Sixty-eight percent of the members of the 1960-1962 committee were not members in 1958; sixty percent of the members of the 1964-1965 com- 12 mitee were not members of the 1962-1963 committee. Turn over among congressional district co-chairmen is even ^Includes only those meetings for which roll-call records are available. 12 Rosters of the executive committee, 1958-1960, 1960-1962, 1962-1963, 1964-1965. TABLE 3 NORTHERN COUNTY CHAIRMEN--ATTENDANCE AT NORTHERN MEETINGS Date Total Attendance Attendance North Attendance South Attendance Northern County Chairmen Northern Attendance without County Chairmen June 6, 1959 63a 32 30 13 19 March 19, 1960 57 31 26 9 22 Sept. 24, 1960 66 37 31 11 26 March 18, 1961 58 31 27 7 24 Sept. 23, 1961 52a 31 20 9 22 March 31, 1962 40b 28 10 12 16 Dec. 8, 1962 58 43 15 16 27 May 25, 1963 75 47 28 17 30 March 14, 1964 38 25 13 8 17 aOne person unidentified. Two people unidentified. 267 268 higher than that among committee members as a whole. Al most seventy-one percent of those serving on the committee in 1971 had not been on the committee in 1969. Attendance The "By-laws" of the Democratic state central com mittee require that the executive committee meet at least 13 four times each year. The meetings are supposed to be held alternately in the northern section and in the south ern section, at a time and place designated by the commit tee. Special meetings may be held at the discretion of the chairman or upon a written request to the chairman by at 14 least ten members. The fragmentary character of the minutes for the years, 1956-1958, indicate that the executive committee did not always comply with the requirement that it meet four times each year. If the state central committee files are complete for this period, they indicate that from the meet ing of May, 1956, to the meeting of January, 1959, the com mittee met only twice— in June, 1957, and in December, 1958. From January, 1959, through June, 1966, the commit tee met at least three times each year, although the meet 13"By-Laws" (1964), sec. 21. 14Ibid. 269 ing place did not always alternate in exact compliance with the "Bylaws" provision. Members of the executive committee may attend and vote by proxy. No member of the committee can hold the proxy of another member.^5 Proxies may be appointed only from the territory represented, and no person may hold more than one proxy. The person appointed as a proxy must be a member of the state central committee. If he holds the proxy of a county chairman, he must also be a member of that chairman's county committee.^ Executive committee meetings are often poorly at tended. Attendance for those meetings for which records are available (1956-1966) ranges from a low of twenty-seven (January, 1962) to a high of eighty-five (January, 1964). The latter was a closed meeting at which the committee heard a report concerning the illness of United States Senator Clair Engle. The average attendance for meetings 19 held from June, 1959, to June, 1966, was 53.6— less than a third of the membership. There is no evidence, however, that, in this period, the chairman had to dispense with the roll-call in order to "deem" a quorum of twenty present. 15Ibid., sec. 22. 16Ibid. 17 Omits meetings for which minutes are unavailable. 270 Meetings in northern California are better attended than those held in southern California. Six of the nine meetings held in the north have had attendance above the average. Six of the eleven southern meetings have had be low average attendance (Table 4). The larger attendance at northern meetings is partly attributable to the larger por tion of northern seats on the committee and to the incon venience and expense of travel created by the length of the state. A few weeks before a meeting is to take place, ex ecutive committee members receive an announcement of the time and location of the meeting and a copy of the proposed agenda. These are sometimes accompanied by other materials pertaining to some matter to be discussed at the meeting. Executive committee meetings are usually held on a Saturday, beginning at 10 a.m. and ending in the late af ternoon. They are sometimes preceded by sectional caucu ses. Occasionally the agenda is so heavy that the meeting runs for two days. In the past, men and women have often attended separate luncheons, to the dismay of some of the female members, who have complained that "the important things" are discussed at the men's luncheon. This has not been the practice in recent years. Various state officials and other party notables appear as guest speakers before these luncheon banquets. After the roll is called, resig- TABLE 4 ATTENDANCE AT EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE MEETING: JUNE 6, 1959— JUNE 11, 1966a Attendance Total Attendance Attendance County Chairman Date Place Attendance North South Total North South June 6- 7, 1959 Sacramento * 3 S 32 30 16 13 3 Oct. 24-25, 1959 San Diego 57b 16 40 9 4 5 Jan. 10-11, 1960 Palm Springs 53 13 39 9 3 6 March 19-20, 1960 Sacramento 57 31 26 12 9 3 Sept. 24, 1960 Burlingame 68 37 31 16 11 5 Dec, 10, 1960 Los Angeles 59 19 40 16 10 6 March 18, 1961 San Francisco 58 31 17 9 7 2 June 24, 1961 San Diego 32b 10 22 6 2 4 Sept. 23, 1961 San Francisco 52 31 20 11 9 2 Jan. 6, 1962 Los Angeles 27c 6 21 3 2 1 March 31, 1962 San Francisco 40° 28 10 12 12 0 a0mits those meetings for which no roll-call records are available. In the period covered by this table, there were eight meetings for which no roll- call records are available. Also omits one special meeting. bOne member unidentified. cTwo members unidentified. TABLE 4 ATTENDANCE AT EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE MEETING: JUNE 6, 1959— JUNE 11, 1966 (continued) Attendance Total Attendance Attendance County Chairman Date Place Attendance North South Total North South June 9, 1962 Los Angeles 30 7 23 5 2 3 Dec. 8, 1962 Santa Rosa 58 43 15 16 16 0 March 16, 1963 Los Angeles 60 14 46 7 2 5 May 25, 1963 Sacramento 75 47 28 10 17 3 Jan. 25, 1964 Los Angeles 85 28 57 16 11 5 March 14, 1964 Sacramento 38 25 13 9 8 1 Dec. 5, 1964 Los Angeles 72 25 47 18 12 6 June 5, 1965 Los Angeles 42 15 27 10 8 2 June U, 1966 Los Angeles 46 15 31 10 7 3 Total 1,072 473 593 230 165 65 Average^ 53.6 23.7 29.7 11.5 8.3 3.3 ^Figures rounded off. 272 273 nations and replacements announced, and the minutes read, most of the meeting is usually given over to reports by party officials, people in charge of special projects, and public officeholders. Characteristics of Members Given the size of the state committee and the in* frequency of its meetings, the executive committee is vir tually the only official agency capable of serving as a vehicle for collective decision-making in the state organi zation of the Democratic party. It is also an important collegial instrument of intra-party communication and the only official source of collective control, within the state orgarnization, over the actions of state committee of ficers and staff. Its performance in these capacities is affected by the characteristics of its members: their social background, their political experience, their role orientations and behavior, their organizational perceptions. These membership characteristics affect, not only the per formance of the executive committee as an instrument of decision-making, communication, and organizational control, but also the ability of the executive committee and of state consnittee officers to implement decisions which re quire action at the local level of party organisation. The largest element in the membership of the exec utive committee consists of the seventy-six congressional 274 district co-chairmen (under the 1961 reapportionment), who are elected by all of the state committee members in their respective districts at the biennial state committee meet ing. Since the characteristics of these individuals are pertinent to their participation in the collective proces ses of the executive committee (as well as to their conduct of party affairs in their respective districts) data con cerning their demographic characteristics and political experience will be presented in this section. These data have been collected by means of the mailed questionnaire, which is described and discussed in chapter i. The fifty-eight county chairmen comprise the sec ond largest element in the membership of the executive committee. However, aside from the fact that county chair men are members of both the state committee and the execu tive committee and that the Elections Code contains a vague provision that the county committees "shall have charge of the party campaign under the general direction of 18 the state central committee..." there is no organic con nection between the state organization and the county com mittees. Unlike the congressional co-chairmen, the county chairmen are not creatures of the state committee. While the co-chairmen are chosen by their district delegations to 18 Elections Code (1964), sec. 8440 (renumbered 8940). 275 the state committee, the comity chairmen are chosen by committees whose members are elected by the party's voters at primary elections. Because the county committees are not integral ele ments of the state organization, the county chairmen were not sampled directly for this study. Relatively recent data about the county chairmen, however, were presented by David K. Hart in his disseration, "The Office of the Party County Chairman in California: A Study of Role Expecta- 19 tions.** Since the county chairmen do sit on the execu tive committee, Hart's materials will be used to supplement 20 the data on congressional co-chairmen wherever possible. Some comparison will also be made with another stratum of Democratic party leaders— California's Democra tic delegates to the national conventions of 1960 and 1964. These delegations were considered to be representative of various components of the party's leadership corps: lead ers of official and unofficial party organizations, elec tive officeholders, financial contributors, and representa tives of interest groups closely associated with the 19 (unpublished Ph.D. disseration, Claremont Graduate School, D965). 20 Unless otherwise indicated, only the data on Democratic county chairmen will be used here. 276 21 party. Although it would be desirable to compare co-chair men with those occupying similar party positions in other states, such comparisons are very difficult to make. One source of difficulty is the kaleidoscopic variety of struc tural patterns and organizational roles among the various states. Party offices bearing the same title differ mark edly in the manner of personnel selection, position and power within the state organization, the role expectations and behavior of their incumbents, and other relevant dim ensions. The organizational position and roles of the con gressional district chairmen studied by Eldersveld in Wayne County, Michigan, for example, are so different from those of congressional district co-chairmen in California 22 that they defy useful comparison. 21 The primary source of the data used for compari son here is the useful summary in John R. Owens, Edmond Costantini, and Louis F. Weschler, California Politics and Parties (London: Macmillan Company') 1970) , pp. 219-236. Additional data on these delegates and detailed analyses are presented in Edmond Costantini, "Intraparty Attitude Conflict: Democratic Leadership in California,” Western Political Quarterly, 16 (December, 1963), pp. 256-272; and The Democratic Leadership Corps in California (Davis: Institute of Governmental Affairs, Univsrsity of Califor nia, 1967). 2^SamueLJ. Eldersveld, Political Parties: A Behavioral Analysis (Chicago: Rand McNally 6 company, 1^64). Eldersveld describes the congressional district chairmen as the "kingpins” and "top executive elite” in Wayne County party organisation (pp. 35-38). They do not, 277 The leadership stratum in the Michigan Democratic party, which appears to be most appropriate for comparison with co-chairmen in California, is the "State Central Com mittee leadership group," consisting of four delegates (two men and two women), who are elected to serve on the Demo cratic state central committee by congressional district caucuses or conventions. This group, described by Robert Sawyer, will be used for some comparisons with co-chairmen in California.23 Another problem in making comparisons consists of the different time frames within which even relatively re cent studies have been conducted. The field work for the however, serve on the state central committee, unless they are elected delegates by the district conventions. Most of the party leadership studies have focused on the national party chairmen, committees, and delegates; and on personnel at the county and precint level. The greatest gap in the literature lies in the area of state party organization. There is no work comparable to Sawyer's monograph on the Democratic state central commit tee in Michigan, and, except for this unique study, vir tually nothing is known about the members, duties, activi ties, and procedures of state party executive committees. Aside from some studies of county chairmen (some of which will be cited later), who may or may not be part of the state party structure, little is known about intermediate layers of organizational leadership who provide the connec tive tissue between state and local organizational elements (see Robert Lee Sawyer, Jr., The Democratic State Central Committee in Michigan. 1949-1959: The Rise of the New Politics and the New Political Leadership [Ann Arbor; Institute of Public Administration, University of Michigan, I960]). 23 Sawyer, op. cit., passim. 278 studies by Eldersveld and Sawyer, for example, was done in the late 1950's. Over a decade's worth of economic, social, technological, and political change may make significant differences in the variables used for comparison. Changes in levels of education and income and in occupational pat terns within the population as a whole, for example, are likely to be reflected in the characteristics of party 24 activists and leaders. The new technology of campaigns and the emergence of professional campaign management firms, among other factors, have rapidly eroded the elec toral role of party organizations and, consequently, have important implications for the characteristics and role ex- 25 pectations and performance of party workers and leaders. 24 Family income, for example, increased substan tially. In 1960, 3.7 percent of American families had an income of $15,000 or more? in 1970, the percentage was 19.2. The median income in 1960 was $5,620? in 1970, it was $9,433 (U.S., Bureau of Census, Statistical Abstract of the United States, 1971 [92d.ed.? Washington, D.C.* bepart- ment of commerce, 1971], p. 433). For an overview of some of the relevant environmental changes in the 1960's, see Everett Carl Ladd, Jr., American Political Parties: Social Change and Political Response (Mew Vorki t o . W. Norton f r company, inc., 1970), chap, vi, pp. 243-311. Ladd is pri marily concerned with changes in the parties' electoral coalitions and does not systematically relate environmental transformations to party organizational structures and functions. 25 Extensive discussions of these trends may be found in Frank J. Sorauf, Party Politics in America (2d. ed.j Bostoni Little, Brown ana company, 1972); and in Robert Agranoff, The New Style in Election Campaigns (Bos ton* Holbrook P reals, Inc., 19^2). 279 The cohesion, internal distribution of power, and types and degrees of activities of a state party organization may de pend on such transient political factors as control of the governorship, the relationship between the governor and state organizational leaders, and the leadership philosophy of the governor and other state party leaders. Thus, for example, the vigor, internal cohesion, hyperactivity, and participatory character of the state committee described by Sawyer may have depended heavily on the personalities and leadership philosophies of Michigan Governor G. Mennen Williams and State Chairman Neil Stabler. Signs of organi zational fragmentation began to appear after 1959, along with programmatic dissension and a waning of William's 2 6 electoral appeal. A third major source of difficulty in making either inter-state or intra-state comparisons of data on party of ficials is methodological; studies differ in overall re search design, in focus (recruitment, ideological perspec tives, role expectations, etc.), in the wording of even standard items designed to obtain demographic information, 21 Sawyer, op. cit., especially pp. 262-270. For a retrospective scrutiny ofc Sawyer's interpretation of the Michigan Democratic Party as the model of a "new party politics" of mass participation, issue-orientation, and or ganizational efficiency, see Charles E. Schutz, "Bureaucra tic Party Organization Through Professional Political Staf fing," 8 Midwest Journal of Political Science (May, 1964), pp. 128-133. 280 and in the classification of data. Comparisons, which are yielded by lumping together categories, which do not pre cisely match, offer rough approximations of gross percent ages and, sometimes, a deceptive picture of similarities and differences. Such comparisons are often useful and suggestive but theix validity is always open to question. For all of these reasons, comparisons of the data on congressional district co-chairmen in California with those on other party officials will, with a few exceptions, be limited to the sources mentioned above. It was originally anticipated that two main vari ables would be significant sources of differences in re sponse patterns within the co-ohsJ rmee .sample. One of these was urban-rural respondants. The other was regional location. A number of scholarly observers of California politics have alluded to and have investigated dimensions of differences in politi- 27 cal behavior between northern and southern California, Moreover, the author of this study had long been impressed with obvious regional differences in the style and stabil ity of Democratic organizational leaders. Consequently, it was expected that response patterns among the co-chairmen would vary according to region. They did, but not always 27 Many of these cited in the notes to the sections that follow. 201 In th« direction anticipated or in ways explainable by commonly propounded hypotheses about the sources of region al political differences in California. Most of the co-chairmen data are presented with a breakdown by region. The small size of the sample (and of the population from which it is derived) would not, how ever, sustain valid analysis of the evident and intriguing relationships between region and variations in such fac tors as prior membership and leadership positions in party organizations and experience as candidates for elective public office. The regional differences are reported be cause they are apparent and are suggestive of lines for future investigations of party leaders and activists in California. Some anomalies in the regional distribution of responses are reported without an attempt at explanation because no plausible reasons were suggested by any of the available data. In some instances, conjectural reasons for regional variations, whether anticipated or not, are of fered, in full recognition that neither the data presented here nor those available in other studies provide a firm basis for affirmative propositions about the roots of the regional differences exhibited by the stratum of party leaders examined here or, for that matter, by populations examined in other studies. 282 Characteristics Affected by Law Sex Three characteristics of congressional co-chairman are affected by law. One of these is sex. The Elections Code provides that congressional district delegations to the state committee elect two members, "one of each sex," 28 to sit on the executive committee. Consequently, one- half of the co-chairmen are women. Women were overrepre sented in the sample taken for this study by 4.2 percent. Equal representation of women among co-chaifmen is not dependent on the law alone. Prior to 1967, the Elec tions Code did not contain any provision governing the composition of the executive committee. The "By-laws" of the state central committee, however, have contained a pro vision for equal representation at least since 1938. This provision and the activities of the women's division of the state committee are expressions, in part, of a desire to encourage the participation of women in state organization al and governmental affairs and, in part, of the important role that women do play in organizational and campaign activities. It should be noted, however, that the principle of 28Electiona Code (1971), sec. 8773, added by Cal. Stats. (1967), ch. 1651. 283 equal representation of women and men does not extend to the county committees and their chairmen. Only twelve percent of the Democratic county chairmen sampled by Hart 29 were women. Geographical Location A second characteristic affected by legal provi sions is geographical location. The election of co-chair men by congressional districts insures representation of all parts of the state on the executive committee. How ever, the more heavily populated southern section predomi nates in congressional district representation. Of Cali fornia's thirty-eight congressional districts (under the 1961 reapportionment), sixteen (42.1 percent) were located 30 in the north and twenty-two (57.9 percent) were located in the south. The southern section was overrepresented in the sample surveyed for this study: twenty-nine respond ents (60.4 percent) were located in the north. As noted above, in the discussion of the composition of the execu tive committee, the inclusion of all county chairmen in the 29 Hart, op. cit., p. 144. Twenty-seven percent of the Republican county chairmen were women. A similar dis crepancy in the representation of women at the state and county levels of party organisation was observed in Michigan (Sawyer, op. cit., p. 29). 30 This is somewhat less than the sixty percent of the state's population that resides in the eight southern counties. 284 membership gives the northern section representation that is disproportionate to its share of the population. The partisan, ecological, and socio-economic com position of the areas represented by the co-chairmen is difficult to ascertain because the boundaries of political divisions in the state overlap. Some counties, for ex ample, contain several congressional districts, while some congressional districts, contain several counties. The sample included respondents from fourteen of the fifty nor thern counties. Four of the fourteen are among the ten most populous counties in the state, and five are among the ten counties having the highest population density (Table 5). Ten of the fourteen are parts of standard metropolitan areas. Three of the five southern counties represented in the sample are among the ten most populous counties in the state. Two of these, Los Angeles and San Diego, are among the ten counties having the highest population density. All of the five southern counties are parts of standard metropolitan areas. None of the ten least populous coun ties are represented in the sample. Assuming a full roster 31 of county chairmen, these less populated counties are 31This is not necessarily a safe assumption. A survey of party rosters indicates that the Democratic TABLE 5 COUNTIES REPRESENTED IN SAMPLE OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN, BY TYPE: DEMOCRATIC, INCONSISTENT, REPUBLICANa Democratic Inconsistent Inconsistent North South North South North South Fresno (M) Napa (M) LOS ANGELES(/) Marin (/)(M) SAN DIEGO </> (M) (M) SACRAMENTO (/) San Joaquin Ventura (M) Sonoma (M) Riverside (M) <M) (M) ALAMEDA (/) (M) SANTA CLARA San Bernardino Santa Cruz (/) (M) (M) Merced Tulare Shasta CONTRA COSTA (/) (M) Yolo *The county classificatiohs are derived from Owens, Costantini, and Weschler, op. cit., p. 122. The authors used presidential and gubernatorial votes for 1936-1968 as tne basis for the partisan classification. The names of the most populous counties ap pear in capital letters. Counties whose names are followed by (M) are included in Calir fornia's standard metropolitan statistical areas. Counties whose names are followed by (/) are among the most densely populated in the state. 285 286 represented on the executive committee by county chairmen. Of the fourteen northern counties represented in the sample, seven may be classified as Democratic in par tisan composition, four as inconsistent, and three as Republican, Of the five southern counties, none may be classified as consistently Democratic; three may be clas sified as inconsistent and two as Republican in partisan voting behavior. Another approach to delineating the kinds of en vironments represented by co-chairmen is provided by re sponses to a questionnaire item which asked respondents to classify their own assembly districts in terms of party dominance, ecological character, and income level. The assembly district was used because it is the smallest elec toral unit for either state or federal office. The results are presented in Table 6. Almost 71 percent of the sample indicated that they live in urban or suburban areas. By adding to these re sponses, "mixed" responses, which included urban and/or suburban references, 85.6 percent of the total sample may be said to live in assembly districts which are wholly or partly urban and/or suburban in ecological character. This county chairmanship is frequently vacant in small counties, such as Sierra, Trinity, and Mono. 287 TABLE 6 CHARACTERISTICS OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN'S ASSEMBLY DISTRICTS* All All South (N-48) (N-19) (N-29) Party Dominance % t % Republican 25.0 15.8 31.1 Competitive1 3 14.6 21.1 10.4 Democratic 58.3 57.9 58.6 No answer 2.1 5.3 0.0 Ecological Character Urban 29.2 26.3 31.1 Rural 14.6 26.3 6.9 Suburban 41.7 21.1 55.2 Mixedc 14.7 26.3 6.9 Income Level High 14.6 5.3 20.7 Medium 58.3 57.9 58.6 Low 6.3 5.3 6.9 Mixed* 1 16.7 21.1 13.8 No answer 4.2 10.5 0.0 Percentages may rounding. not equal 100 because of ^Includes one respondent who checked both "Competitive" and "Republican." cIncludes three respondents who checked "urban" and "suburban," one who checked "rural" and "suburban," and one wh«k checked all three categories. dIncludes five respondents who checked "medium" and "low" and three who checked all three income categories. 288 is somewhat less than the 90 percent of Californians who inhabit the state's fourteen standard metropolitan areas.^2 Although the survey data are far from defini tive, it does appear that co-chairmen are somewhat less likely than the population as a whole to live in non- rural conunenities. In keeping with the more heavily urbanized character of the region south of the Techach- apie, only 6.9 percent of the southern respondents re ported that their assembly districts is rural in char acter. The>proportion of rural assembly district en vironments (26.3 percent) reported by northern co-chairmen was much higher. The co-chairmen's designations of the income levels prevailing in their assembly districts were not congruent with their personal income brackets: 38.6 percent of the sample reported that their total family incomes were $25,000 or more, and 55.3 percent reported $20,000 or more.^ only 14.6 percent of the respondents indicated that the prevail ing income level in their assembly district was "high;" 58.3 percent reported that it was "medium;" and 6.3 percent 32 Richard B. Harvey, The Dynamics of California Government and Politics (Belmont, California: Wadsworth Publishing Company, Inc., 1970), p. 216. 33See infra, Table 14. 289 34 reported that it was "low" (Table 6). There was a rough regional correspondance between the respondents' income levels and those of their assembly districts— that is, a markedly greater proportion of southern Californians than of northern Californians reported that their incomes were $25,000 or more and that they lived in "high" income as- sembly districts. Within each region, the disparity be tween the proportion reporting high personal incomes and the proportion reporting that they lived in high income assembly districts remains. There are several possible explanations for the apparent discrepancy between the respondents' affluence and the income level of their assembly districtst respond ents may have exaggerated their own incomes; they may ac tually live in areas where the prevailing income is lower than their own, perhaps for political reasons; they may have misperceived the income level of their assembly dis trict in keeping with a subjective identification with the middle class; they may live in upper income enclaves within middle-to-low income assembly districts. It is also poss ible that the categories used in the question were so broad and ambiguous that respondents chose the "middle" category as the safest guess. 3*Ten percsnt (10.4) checked both "medium" and "low." 290 Not surprisingly, Democratic co-chairmen tended to live in Democratic assembly districts. A slightly higher proportion of co-chairmen (58.3 percent) reported that their assembly districts were Democratic in partisan com position than the proportion of assembly seats actually held by Democrats (53.8 percent) after the 1970 elections. The discrepancy may be the result of a tendency to cate gorize on the basis of registration rather than electoral outcomes. A significantly higher proportion of co-chairmen reported that they live in Democratic districts than the proportion of assembly districts classified as "safe" for 35 the Democratic Party (48.6 percent). The greater tenden cy of southern Californians to live in Republican assembly districts is congruent with the greater tendency of south ern Californians as a whole to vote Republican.^ 35 Owens, Costantini, and Weschler, op. cit., pp. 295-296. A "safe" seat is defined here as one in which the victor wins by 55 percent or more of the two-party vote. Eugene Lee, using registration as the basis of classifica tion, defined a "safe" Democratic district as one with a Democratic registration of 62 percent or more. By this definition, forth assembly districts were classified as safely Democratic after the redistricting of 1965 (and be fore the 1966 election). Two of these had Republican in cumbents in 1965. See Eugene C. Lee ed., The California Governmental Process (Bostoni Little, Brown and company, 1066), p. 50. 36See Owens, Costantini, and Weschler, op. cit., pp. 121-132; Lee, op. cit., pp. 51-52; and Michael P. Rogin and John L. Shover. Political Change in Californiat Critl- 291 Age The third characteristic affected by law is that of age. At the time this sample was taken, the minimum voting age for all elections had just been lowered to eighteeen by the Twenty-sixth Amendment.Although the Elections Code does not explicitly mention age as a qualification for state committee appointees, it does say that the nominees and elective officeholders of the party "shall appoint... voters to be members of the state central committee....3® Thus, the minimum age requirement for state committee ap pointees now stands at eighteen. The youngest age reported by the co-chairmen was twenty-six; the oldest was sixty- eight. The median age was forty-seven years. There was a slight tendency for northern co-chairmen to be older than southern co-chairmen; 57.9 percent of the northerners were under fifty years old as compared to 62.1 percent of the southerners (Table 7). There was a marked tendency for co-chairmen, as a group, to be older than county chairmen: 60.4 percent of the co-chairmen were under fifty, in contrast to 76.5 per- cal Elections and Social Movements, 1890-1966 (Westport, Connecticutt dreenwood Publishing Corp., 1970), especially chap. vi, pp. 153-201. 37Ratified June 30, 1971. 38 Elections Code (1964), sec. 8011 (renumbered 8100). 292 TABLE 7 AGES OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN Years All (N-48) a North (N-19) « South (N-29) t 20-29 6.3 5.3 6.9 30-39 20.8 10.5 27.6 40-49 33.3 42.1 27.6 50-59 31.3 36.8 27.6 60-69 8.3 5.3 10.4 Total 100.0 100.0 100.1 AGES i TABLE 8 OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN AND COUNTY CHAIRMEN COMPARED, BY PERCENTAGES4 Democratic Co-Chairmen County Chairmen (N-48) (S-34) Years % « 20-29 6.9 2.9 30-39 20.8 38.2 40-49 33.3 35.3 50-59 31.3 11.8 (0*69 8.3 11.8 Total 100.0 100.0 aData on county chairmen are from Hart, op. cit., Table 5.2, p. 124. 293 39 cent of the county chairmen (Table 8.) There is much less of a disparity, however, between the ages of co-chair men and the ages of another sample of Democratic party leaders, the delegates to the 1960 and 1964 Democratic na tional conventions. In both years, 66 percent of the dele gates were under fifty years of age (Table 9). Their median age was forty-six, one year less than that of co- chairmen.40 It is interesting to note that Hart also found California county chairmen to be much younger than New Jersey county chairmen: only 44 percent of the Democratic county chairmen in New Jersey were under 49/50 years of 41 age. He explains this difference by an admittedly 39 Hart, op. cit., p. 124. 40 Owens, Costantini, and Weschler, op. cit., pp 223, 226. These two delegations were considered to be representative of the party's elites because neither was challenged in the presidential primary by a slate composed of persons well known in Democratic politics. No important group of leaders was excluded because its slate was de feated. The cross-sectional character of the 1960 delega tion is particularly well documented. See Costantini, loc. cit. (1963); and John H. Bunzel and Eugene C. Lee, The California Democratic Delegation of I960, Inter-University Casestudy Number ^7 (Birmingham: university of Alabama Press, 1962). Cf. John C. wahlke, et al., The Legislative System (New York: John Wiley and Sons, Inc., 1962), p. 491. Forty-six percent of the members of the California assembly and sixteen percent of the members of the senate were fifty years old or less. The median age in the assem bly was 48.2; in the senate, it was 53.4. 4*Hart, op. cit., p. 126. Hart's data on New Jer sey county chairmen came from a study by Gerald Pomper, 294 TABLE 9 PERCENTAGES OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN, COUNTY CHAIRMEN, AND NATIONAL CONVENTION DELEGATES UNDER 49/50 YEARS OF AGEa County Delegates Co-Chairmen Chairman (1960 and 1964) » % %_________ 60.4 76.5 66.0 ^County chairmen data are from Hart, op. cit., Table 5.3, p. 126. Data on National convention delegates are from Owens, Costantini, and Hechsler, op. cit., p. 223. TABLE 10 FORMAL EDUCATION OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN Highest Level of Education All (N-48) « North (N-19) % South (N-29) t Grade 9-11 2.1 5.3 0.0 Completed high school 6.3 10.5 3.5 113 years of college 29.2 26.3 31.1 Completed college 14.6 10.5 17.2 Graduate work in college 47.9 47.4 48.3 Total 100.1 100.0 100.1 295 "crystal-ball analysis," which suggests that New Jersey is representative of "an older political tradition," in which the attainment of party office "is considered a career step: in an Mold model," professional, patronage-oriented 42 party organization. California politics, Hart contends, is "typified by the emergence of a newer, more vigorous political style, and the comparative youth of its county chairmen is one of the constituent elements of that style." 4 3 They are members of "a new...breed of activists." In studies of party activists, age is seldom used 44 to distinguish the "new breed" from the old. Robert Sawyer, however, did consider the "new politics" of the "New Jersey County Chairmen," Western Political Quarterly, 18 {March, 1965), pp. 186-197. 42Ibid., p. 127. 43 Hart, op. cit., p. 128. 44 The characteristics most frequently cited in clude a high level of education, a high occupational stat us, "amateurism," which is often defined in terms of a greater preoccupation with issues and/or ideology than with material incentives, such as patronage, and with winning elections. For discussions of these and other characteris tics, see James Q. Wilson, The Amateur Democratt Club Politics in Three Cities (Chicago: University oi Chicago Press, I962)i John Soule and James W. Clark, "Amateurs and Professionalsi A Study of Delegates to the 1968 Democratic Convention," American Political Science Review, 64 (Septem ber, 1970), pp. 888-8981 Robert s. riirschfieia, Bert E. Swanson, and Blanche D. Blank, "A Profile of Political Activists in Manhattan," Western Political Quarterly, 15 (September, 1962), pp. 489-506; M. Margaret Conway and Frank B. Feigert, "Motivation, incentive Systems, and the 296 Michigan Democratic party to be partly exemplified by the 4B relative youthfulnese of ita leadership. The leadership stratum in Michigan which most closely approximated the or ganizational position of congressional co-chairmen in Cali fornia was the "State Central Committee leadership group," consisting of delegates elected by congressional district caucuses. Sawyer did not present a breakdown of age groups within this stratum, but the median age was forty-six, just one year younger than the median age of California co- 46 chairmen. At present, it is impossible to say whether the youthfulness of county chairmen in California is typical or atypical of organizational leaders (new breed or old) in this state or elsewhere. It is clear, however, that Hart's explanation does not account for the age difference Political Party Organization," American Political Science Review, 62 (December, 1968), pp. lT5^-llV3; Dennis S. Ippolito, "Political Perspectives of Suburban Party Lead* ers, Social Science Quarterly 49 (March, 1969), pp. 800- 815; Robert U. Salisbury, "The Urban Organization Member," Public Opinion Quarterly 29 (Winter, 1965-66), pp. 550- 564; Eldersveld7 op. cit., chap. vii, especially pp. 135- 175. This is not the place to become embroiled in argu ments about typologies. It should be noted, however, that there is a tendency to confuse "new" and "old" activists with the political styles of "amateurism" and "profession alism." Needless to nay, these classifications need fur ther clarification and refinement. 45 Sawyer, op. cit., p. 34. 46Ibid. 297 between congressional district co-chairmen and county chairmen within California. An effort to explain the age difference between these two groups of California Democratic leaders, on the basis of the available data, would be, as Hart puts it, an exercise in "crystal-ball analysis." But any such expla nation should take into account differences in the proces ses by which congressional co-chairmen and county chairmen are selected. Since co-chairmen are chosen at the biennial state committee meeting, the day after the state conven tion, it is not implausible to suppose that the nominee and holdover delegates, who appointed the other members of the district delegations, are likely to be present at the dis trict caucuses and that their preferences are likely to be given some weight. Their active involvement in the process may lead to the selection of people who tend to be "quali fied," at least in part, by the length of their experience in politics (although length of experience is not invari* ably a function of age). County chairmen are chosen by county committee members, whose own selection is often the capricious re- 47 suit of their position on the primary election ballot. 47 Cal., Assembly Interim Committee on Elections and Reapportionment, Political Party Organization (Sacramentoi State Printing Office, 1963) , pp. lo-ll. 298 In many countie*, there i* little or no competition for election to the county committee. An Assembly committee found, for example, that "candidates exceeded vacancies in only 27 percent of the district races...and in 46 percent 48 there were fewer candidates than vacancies. Such a process is not designed to yield members who are "quali fied" for party office by political activity, organiza tional experience, or any other criteria relevant to some 49 standard of performance. State legislative nominees are ex**officio members of the committee in the county in which they reside.However, in the smaller, more rural coun ties, where the committee may do little more than hold the 51 organizational meeting required by the law, they may not be attentive to county committee affairs, including the election of the county chairman. Moreover, the nominees are in minority among county committee members who, unlike the state committee members, do not owe their position to 48Ibid. 49 Dean R. Cresap, Party Politics in the Golden State (Los Angelesi Haynes Foundation, l?54), pp. 19-26j and Wilson, op. cit., pp. 98-108. 50 Elections Code (1964), sec. 8406 (renumbered 8824). 51 Owens, Costantini, and Weschler, op. cit., p. 197. 299 the nominees. County committee members, who are chosen by a process which so closely resembles a lottery, may be less prone than congressional district caucuses to elect chair- 52 men with a long record of political experience. Substantiation of the argument that the manner of selection has a bearing on the characteristics of party officials requires data concerning the considerations and motivations that lead members of the various party leader ship and activist corps— officeholders and candidates, state committee appointees, county committee members— to choose particular individuals for party office. Undoubt edly, qualifications would embrace factors, in addition to experience, that affect one's ability to function effec tively in a given position. They would include skills, for example, in speaking, in organizing, and in fund-raising. They would also include factors that affect opportunities to devote time and effort to leadership activities, for example, an adequate income and a favorable employment sit uation. Qualifications, moreover, are not likely to con stitute the only criterion of choice. Representation of important groups within the electorate or of factions with in the party organization may weigh as heavily as qualifi cations in the selection process. 52 Wilson, op. cit., pp. 99-100. 300 Socio-economic Status The questionnaire administered to the co-chairmen contained three measures of social class-education, occu pation, and income— and two measures of social status— race and religion.53 By all of these measures, co-chairmen, as a group, rank among California's economic and social elites. Education The educational attainments of co-chairmen sub stantiate the positive correlation so often observed be- 54 tween political participation and education. Ninety-two percent (91.7) have had some college and 62.5 percent have attained a bachelor of arts degree or better (Table 10). 53 The distinction between social class and social status is based on the distinction between achieved char acteristics associated with stratification primarily by economic position and ascribed (or hereditary) character istics associated with stratification by caste. Many studies do not make this distinction or use indexes of class and/or status that are different from those employed here. See, for example, the distinction between "stratum* and "class" drawn in Angus Campbell, et al., The American Voter (New Yorkt John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 1960), chap. xiil, especially pp. 333-340. 54Ibid., pp. 475-481. But Campbell and his asso ciates indicate that educational level has less impact on membership in party organisations and on campaign work than on other forms of participation (p. 477). See also Lester W. Milbrath, Political Participation (Chicagot Rand McNally S t Company, 1965) , pp. 122-124, 132. 301 Forty-eight percent (47.9) have had some graduate work. While the proportion of northern and southern co- chairmen having had some graduate work was about the same, educational attainment was somewhat higher among southern co-chairmen. Ninety-seven percent (96.6) of the south erners have had some college or better, as compared to 84.2 percent of the northerners. A higher percentage of southern co-chairmen have also completed college. Although the edcuational categories used in Hart's study do not strictly coincide with those used for the co- chairmen, some comparisons are possible. Hart's data in dicated that 74 percent of the Democratic county chairmen had earned a bachelor of arts degree or had continued on to some graduate work.55 It thus appears that county chair» men, as a group, were better educated than co-chairmen, of whom 62.5 percent had a bachelor of arts degree or some graduate work. The relationship between party office and education becomes ambiguous, however, in a comparison of those who have had some college or better. County chairmen were no more likely than co-chairmen to fall into this broad category.5® 55 Hart, op. cit., p. 130. 5®Ninety-two percent of the co-chairmen and ninety- one percent of the county chairmen were in this category. 302 The educational achievement of co-chairmen com pares more favorably with that of Democratic national con vention delegates. Sixty-four percent of the delegates in 1960 and 60 percent in 1964 had earned a college degree or better.^ The educational attainment of co-chairmen was strikingly superior to that of the "State Central Committee leadership group," sampled by Sawyer in the late 1950's. Only 53.1 percent of this leadership stratum had some col- 58 lege, and only 3.1 percent had earned a degree. The "middle leadership group," consisting of some lower level state committee officers and subcommittee officers, ap pointed by the state chairman from among the district rep resentatives, and the "top leadership group," consisting of high-level formal and informal leaders, had educational backgrounds equal or superior to those of congressional 59 district co-chairmen in California. Cf. Wahlke, et al., op. cit., p. 489. Eighty-five percent of the California state legislators, sampled in 1957, had some college or better. 57 Owens, Costantini, and Weschler, op. cit., p. 222. 58 Sawyer, op. cit,, p. 46. 59 Ibid. In the "middle leadership group," 88.2 percent baa ioete college or better, 29.4 percent had com pleted college, and 58.8 percent had a bachelor of arts degree or better. In the "top leadership group," 95 per- 303 On the whole, the educational level of co-chairmen appear* to compare favorably with that of party leadership corps In California and elsewhere. It must be recognized, however, that those who responded to the questionnaire were probably somewhat unrepresentative of the total universe of co-chairmen, because more educated people are more likely to complete mailed questionnaires. This sample, as well as Hart's sample of county chairmen, may thus be skewed in favor of well-educated co-chairmen. Occupation Because 50 percent of the universe of co-chairmen was female, it was anticipated that a large proportion of the sample would list their occupation as "housewife." Since this designation is no help in delineating social class, respendants were asked to indicate their spouses' occupations, as well as their own. In keeping with their level of education, co-chair man tended to have high status occupations. Sixty-three percent (62.5) of the respondents held government posi tions, were in professional or technical occupations, or were businessman (Table 11). Only 8.2 percent of the sam ple were in relatively low status occupations (sales- cent had some college, 45 percent had completed college, and 75 percent had a bachelor of arts dagree or better. TABLE 11 OCCUPATIONS OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN3 Occupation All (N=48) % North All (N-19) % Women (N~10) % Men (N=9) % South All (N*29) % Women (N-16) % Men (N-13) % Government 12.5 31.6 30.0 33.3 0.0 0.0 0.0 Lawyer 12.5 10.5 0.0 22.2 13.8 6.3 23.1 Teacher 8.3 5.3 10.0 0.0 10.4 6.3 15.4 Other professional- technical 18.8 21.1 10.0 33.3 17.2 12.5 23.1 Businessman 10.4 10.5 0.0 22.2 10.4 0.0 23.1 Sales-clerical 4.2 5.3 10.0 0.0 3.5 6.3 0.0 Blue-collar 4.2 5.3 10.0 0.0 3.5 6.3 0.0 Housewife 14.6 5.3 10.0 0.0 20.7 37.5 0.0 Student 2.1 0.0 0.0 0.0 3.5 0.0 7.7 Retired 2.1 0.0 0.0 0.0 3.5 6.3 0.0 . Other 8.3 10.5 20.0 0.0 6.9 12.5 0.0 No answer 4.2 0.0 0.0 0.0 6.9 6.3 7.7 Percentages exceed 100 because of rounding and multiple occupations. 305 clerical and blue-collar). Given the high representation of women in the sample, the proportion of housewives (14.6 percent) was surprisingly low. Northern co-chairmen, as a group, were markedly more likely to be in high status occupations than southern co-chairmen (79 percent as compared to 51.8 percent). This differential may be accounted for by the fact that south ern California women displayed a much greater tendency to list their occupation as "housewife" than northern women. This explanation is supported by the reversal of the rela tionship between region and high occupational status in the data on the occupations of co-chairmen's spouses: 50 per cent of the northern women had husbands in high status oc cupations as compared to 68.9 percent of southern Califor nia women (Tables 12 and 13). The husbands of southern California women were three times more likely to be busi nessmen than the husbands of northern women. Even south ern California male co-chairmen were more likely than their northern counterparts to have wives in high status occupa tions, mostly in teaching. Another noteworthy aspect of the occupational data is that 31.6 percent of the northern co-chairmen and none of the southern oo-chairmen had government jobs (Table 11). Three of those with government jobs were state or federal legislative staff aids, and three held administrative posi- TABLE 12 OCCUPATIONS OF SPOUSES OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN* Occupation All (N-48) % North All (N-19) % Women (N-10) « Men (N-9) % South All (N-29) % Women (N-16) % Men (N-13) 1 Government 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 Lawyer 10.4 10.5 20.0 0.0 10.4 18.8 0000 Teacher 12.5 5.3 10.0 0.0 17.2 6.3 30.8 Other professional- technical 10.4 10.5 10.0 11.1 10.4 6.3 15.4 Businessman 14.6 5.3 10.0 0.0 20^7 37.5 0.0 Sales-clerical 8.3 15.8 10.0 22.2 3.5 6.3 0.0 Blue-collar 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.0 Housewife 16.7 26.3 0.0 55.5 10. 4 0.0 23.1 Student 2.1 0.0 0.0 0.0 3.5 0.0 7.7 Retired 6.3 10,5 20.0 0.0 3.5 6.3 0.0 No answer/divorced/de ceased/s ing le 22.9 15.8 20.0 11.1 17.6 18/8 38.5 Percentage exceeds 100 because of rounding and multiple occupations. w o < 7 1 307 TABLE 33 PERCENTAGES OF CO-CHAIRMEN AND SPOUSES IN HIGH STATUS OCCUPATIONS, BY REGION North Percent Number South Percent Number Co-Chairmen 79.0 19 51.8 29 Spouses of female co-chairmen 50.0 10 68.9 16 Spouses of male co-chairmen 11.1 9 46.2 13 TOTAL FAMILY TABLE 14 INCOME OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN Income All (N-48) % North (N-19) « South (N-29) « Under 5,000 4.2 5.3 3.5 5,000- 9,999 10.4 10.5 10.4 10,000-14,999 16.7 21.1 13.8 15,000-19,999 10.4 15.8 6.9 20,000-24,999 16.7 21.1 13.8 25,000 or more 38,6 26.3 48.3 No answer 2.1 0.0 3.5 Total 99.1 100.1 100.2 308 tions in local government. The occupational categories used by Hart were dif ferent from those used in this study, thereby making com parison difficult. Sixty-eight percent of the Democratic county chairmen held what Hart designated as "high" occupa tional positions.6® This is a slightly higher proportion than that among congressional co-chairmen. Combining Hart's top three occupational categories (professional, technical, etc.: farmers and farm managers; and managers, officials, etc.) would put 85.3 percent of the county chairmen into a "high category as compared to only 62.5 percent of the co-chairmen.61 These differences may be explained, in part, by the low representation of women in the county chairmen sample: only 12 percent of the Democratic county chairmen were 62 women, and none of these were housewives. The markedly greater representation of women among co-chairmen (54.2 percent) may also account for the apparent differences in the proportion of lawyers between county chairmen and con gressional co-chairmen. Thirty-two percent of the Democra ®®Hart, op. cit., p. 138. 61Ibid. 62Hart, op. cit., pp. 144, 140 309 6 3 tic county chairmen held law degrees. Only 12.5 percent of all congressional co-chairmen said that they were law yers, and all of these were men (22.2 percent of northern men and 23.1 percent of southern men). It should be noted, however, that the data on lawyers are not strictly compar able. The percentage for county chairmen refers to those who held law degrees; the percentage for co-chairmen re fers to those who listed lawyer or attorney as their occu pation. Needless to say, not all of those who have law degrees are lawyers by occupation. A comparison of co-chairmen with Democratic na tional conventional delegates is also difficult to make, partly because the delegate samples contained a high pro portion of elected governmental officials, while the co- chairman sample contained none. Over 100 percent of the Ibid., p. 133. The literature verifying the pro clivity of American lawyers toward political activism is too voluminous to cite here. Most of this literature, how ever, deals with the dominance of lawyers among elected officeholders and candidates, rather than among party of ficials. For a relatively recent study of lawyers in state legislative politics, see Heinz Eulau and John D. Sprague, Lawyers in Politics; A Study in Professional Convergence (Indianapolist Boons-Merrill company, inc., 1964)7 An earlier example may be found in Charles S. Hyneman, "Who Makes Our Laws?” in John C. Wahlke and Heinz Eulau (eds.), Legislative Behaivor (Glencoe, Illinoisi Free Press, 1959), pp. 254-265. Surveying the literature on party organiza tional activists, Sorauf notes that studies of county chair men in four states show a median percentage of lawyers "somewhat above 20 percent” (op. cit., p. 101). 310 delegates to the 1960 and 1964 conventions could be said to have had "high" status occupations.*’ * Only 1 percent of the 1960 delegates and 3 percent of the 1964 delegates were blue-collar or sales-clerical workers. Twenty-seven per- 65 cent of both delegate samples were lawyers. Comparison with the "State Central Committee lead ership group," sampled by Sawyer, yields a result congru ent with the comparative data on educational background. Only 4 3.8 percent of the congressional district delegates to the Michigan state central committee had "high" occupa tions (professional-technical; proprietors, managers, of ficials; farm owners).**® A much higher proportion of this group than of co-chairmen were in blue-collar or sales and clerical jobs (34.4 percent) and were housewives (21.9 percent). 64Owens, Costantini, and Weschler, op. cit., p. 222. Multiple responses account for percentages exceeding 100. g e Owens, Costantini, and Weschler, loc. cit. Cf. Wahlke, at al.. op. cit., p. 490. Eighty-three percent of the California state legislators, sampled in 1957, had high status occupations (managers, proprietors, officials; pro fessional, technical). Adding farmers and farm managers to the high category would bring the proportion to 96 per cent. Thirty-six percent of the legislators were lawyers. 6®Sawyer, op. cit.. Table xviii, p. 50. 311 Since half of the congressional district delegates in Michigan were women, Sawyer also presented data on the "Employment Orientation of Heads of Familes:" 31.3 percent were in high occupational groups as compared with 47.9 per- 68 cent of the spouses of co-chairmen in California. In general, the data on the occupations of co- chairmen confirms the often observed relationship between high Occupational status and political activism. While co-chairmen, as a group, are not as likely to have occupa tions in a "high" category as either county chairmen or national convention delegates, a large part of the differ ence may be explained by the greater proportion of women among the congressional district co-chairmen. Income Congressional co-chairmen were asked to estimate their total family income (before taxes) in 1971. The overall result was in keeping with the data on education and occupation. At least 82.4 percent were above the na tional family median income of $9,433 in 19698^ (Table 14). Regional differences in income were congruent with occupa tional differences, if the relatively high occupation 68Ibid., pp. 51-53 (Table xix, p. 53). 69 U.S., Bureau of Census, op. cit., p. 316. 312 status of the spouses of southern co-chairmen Is taken into account. While roughly the same proportion of northern and southern co-chairmen were above the national median (84.3 percent and 82.8 percent respectively), a very sharp dif ference appears in the highest bracket. Almost half of the southern co-chairmen (48.3 percent) had incomes of $25,000 or more, while only 26.3 percent of the northern co-chair men were in this bracket. Hart did not present any income breakdown above $15,000. Only 44.1 percent of the Democratic county chair men had incomes of $15,000 or more as compared to 65.7 per- 70 cent of the co-chairmen. Since the occupational status of county chairmen was slightly higher than (or roughly equal to) that of co-chairmen, and their educational level was significantly higher, the income difference requires some explanation. One source of the disparity may be in the wording of the questions used in each study. Hart asked 71 the county chairmen to indicate "your gross income," while co-chairmen were asked to indicate their "total fami ly income." The latter wording was designed to cover in come derived from spouses and other family members. Another source may be the age differences between 7®Hart, op. cit., p. 135 71Ibid. p. 278. 313 the two groups. The peak earning years for a family occur 72 when its head is at ages 45-54. As the age data pre sented in Tables 8 and 9 indicated, young, well-educated county chairmen were not as close to the peak earning po tential of their high status jobs as older, well-educated co-chairmen. A third source may be the time differential between Hart's survey and the one reported here. Median family income increased between 1965, when Hart did his survey, and 1971, when the survey for this study was adminis tered.^3 General income growth over time also limits com parison between congressional co-chairmen and California's delegates to Democratic national conventions. Eighty-six percent of the 1960 delegates and 95 percent of the 1964 74 delegates had family incomes of $10,000 or more. Forty- six percent of the 1960 delegates and 67 percent of the 72 Ben J. wattenberg, This U.S.A. (Garden City, New Yorkj Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1965) , p. 149, Twenty- seven percent (27.1) of the co-chairmen and 41.2 percent of the county chairmen were under forty years of age; 8.3 per cent of the co-chairmen and 11.8 percent of the county chairmen were sixty years or older (Hart, op. cit., p. 124). 73 Median family income in 1963, for example, was $6,249; in 1969, it was $9,433. 74 Owens, Costantini, and Weschler, op. cit., p. 222. 314 75 1964 delegates had family incomes of $20,000 or more, as compared to 55.3 percent of the congressional co-chair- men sampled in 1971. Taking into account all of the fac tors which may inhibit meaningful income comparisons, it appears that co-chairmen, as a group, are more affluent than county chairmen and less affluent than national con vention delegates.7^ The data on education, occupation, and income clearly indicate that social class achievement is an im portant, albeit not absolute, prerequisite for entry, even to "middle-level" organizational leadership positions. ALthough the class composition of the party's electorate 76 varies from one election to another, it is clear that Ibid., pp. 222, 224. The differential between the 1960 delegates, for whom the median income was $19,000, and the 1964 delegates, among whom the median income was $27,000, may be explained, in part, by the fact that the 1960 convention was held in Los Angeles, while the 1964 convention was held in Atlantic City, New Jersey. The ex pense of attending the 1964 convention may have been too high for some California activists. 76 See, for example, Robert Alford, "The Role of Social Class in American Voting Behavior," Western Politi- cal Quarterly 16 (March, 1963), pp. 180-184; Campbell, et al., op. cit,, chaps, xii, pp. 330-380; xiv, pp. 381- 404. Ladd, op. cit., passim, traces the changing compo sition of the major party coalitions from the beginning of the Republic through 1968. In his last chapter (vi, pp. 243-311), he emphasises the effects of environmental fac tors in changing the class and status composition of the parties' electorates and the transformation of the Demo- 315 co-chairmen, aa well aa county chairmen and national con vention delegatee, are "superior" in social clasa to the Democratic electorate. Thia atudy merely confirms the well substantiated relationship between social class achievement 77 and political leadership. The overrepresentation of people with relatively high social class positions in party leadership strata is the product of many factors, including leisure time, finan cial resources, a high sense of political efficacy, and the development of verbal and other politically relevant 78 skills. These and other factors contribute to the great er opportunity, ability, and willingness of people to cratic electorate from a party of "have-nots" to a middle class party of "haves" through the 1950's and 1960's. Robert Axelrod makes the same point in "Where the Votes Come Promt An Analysis of Electoral Coalitions, 1952- 1968," American Political Science Review, 66 (March, 1972, pp. 11-20. For changes in the social class composition of California electorates, see Rogin and Shover, op. cit., passim; Owens, Costantini, and Weschler, op. cltT 7 pp. ll7-120; and Totton J. Anderson and Eugene C. Lee, "The 1966 Election in California," Western Political Quar- terly, 20 (June, 1967), pp. 547, 55?T 77See, for example, Milbrath, op. cit., pp. 114- 128; Campbell, et al., op. cit., chap. xvli, pp. 473-498; Robert Lane, Political Life (fllencoe, Illinoist Free Press, 1959), especially chaps, iv, pp. 45-62; v, pp. 63- 79, vi, pp. 80-94; and xvi, pp. 220-234. 78 Campbell, et al., loc. cit; Lane, op. cit., especially chap. xvi, pp. 226-234. 316 assume the responsibilities of political leadership. The lack of such resources is a substantial barrier to the entry of people low in social class achievement into party leadership positions, especially in party organizations 79 that lack a patronage base. If low social class presents a barrier to partici pation in party leadership roles, is the same true of low social status? Status advantage, as defined here, lies with whites over negroes; native born over foreign born; earlier immigration over later immigration, immigration from northwestern and central Europe and Canada over east ern or southern Europe, Asia, Mexico, and Latin America; with Protestants (especially Congregrationalists, Pres byterians, Espiscopalians, and Unitarians) over Catholics . , 80 and Jews. Religion and Race The two measures of ascribed status used in this study— religious affiliation and race— yielded ambiguous 79 For a general discussion of the relationship between patronage (and other incentives) and the socio economic characteristics of party activists, see Sorauf, op. cit., chap. iv, especially pp. 98-102. 80 The status ranking within each category are slightly modified versions of those used by Donald R. Mathews, The Social Background of Political Decislon- Makers (New YorkT Random House, Inc., 1954) pp. 24-26. 317 results. The religious data indicate that low status is not a barrier to participation in "middle” organizational leadership positions; the data on race indicate that low status is a barrier, although to a lesser extent than low social class. As Table 15 indicates, the representation of Catholics and Jews among co-chairmen was roughly commensu rate with the contributions that people with these reli gious affiliations make to the statewide Democratic vote. Those professing no religious affiliation were greatly overrepresented, and Protestants were substantially under represented, in comparison to their proportion of the Democratic vote. Hart1s study did not contain information about the religion and race of county chairmen, but such data are available for California's Democratic national convention delegates. Table 16 shows that Protestant representation among delegates was significantly greater than among co- chairmen (and more commensurate with the Protestant pro portion of the Democratic vote). The representation of Jews was also greater than among co-chairmen (and greater than their contribution to the Democratic vote). Catholics received significantly less representation among national convention delegates than among co-chairmen (and less than 318 TABLE 15 RELIGIOUS AFFILIATIONS OF CO-CHAIRMEN, COMPARED WITH DEMOCRATIC VOTERS, BY PERCENTAGESa Religion Co-Chairmen Gubernatorial Vote— 1966 U.S. Senatorial Vote— 1968 Protestant 35 53 54 Catholic 27 28 26 Jewish 10 12 7 Other 6 3 6 None 19 4 7 No answer 4 0 0 Percentages may not equal 100 because of round* . ing. The vote data are from Owens, Costantini, and Weschler, op. cit., p. 119. TABLE 16 RELIGIOUS AFFILIATIONS OF CO-CHAIRMEN, COMPARED WITH CALIFORNIA'S DEMOCRATIC NATIONAL CONVENTION DELEGATES, BY PERCENTAGESa Religion________Co-Chairmen 1960 Delegates 1964 Delegates Protestant 35 57 50 Catholic 27 17 17 Jewish 10 16 22 Other 6 10 11 None 19 0 0 No answer 4 0 0 Percentages may not equal 100 because of round ing. The delegate data are from Owens, Costantini, and Wescher, op. cit., p. 223 319 Q 1 the Catholic percentage of the Democratic vote). The greatest anomalies that appear In these com parisons are the significant underrepresentation of Protestants and overrepresentation of Catholics and of those professing no religious affiliation among co-chair men. There is no apparent reason for this deviation from the distribution of religious affiliation in the Democra tic electorate and among convention delegates. All that can be concluded, on the basis of these comparisons, is that low status religious affiliations are no barrier to entry to middle leadership positions in the official state organization. The regional distribution of religious affiliation among co-chairmen also deviates from the anticipated pat tern. Information about the regional distribution of re ligious affiliations in California is not readily avail- 82 able. Those studies which do contain such information do not deal the whole state but with comparisons between southern California and the San Francisco Bay Area, com- 81 Cf. Sawyer, op. cit.. p. 44. In the "State Central Conanittee leadership group," 50 percent were Pro testant) 31.2 percent were Catholic) and 12.5 percent were Jewish. See also Wahlke, et al., op. cit., p. 487. Among California state legislators, 72 percent were Protestant) 17 percent were Catholic) 1 percent were Jewish) and 10 percent said that they had "no religious affiliation." 62 The last religious census was taken in 1936. 320 posed of seven counties (more or less, depending on the 83 particular study), These studies generally suggest that Catholics comprise a significantly higher proportion of the Bay Area population than of southern California, while Protestants, especially those of a fundamentalist per suasion, comprise a higher proportion of the population of 84 southern California than of the Bay Area. Among co-chairmen, the relationship between region and religion is reversed (Table 17). Thirty-one percent (31.1) of the southern co-chairmen and 21.1 percent of the northern co-chairmen were Catholic; 52.6 percent of the northern co-chairmen and 24.1 percent of the southern co- chairmen were Protestant. Jews were more heavily repre sented among southern co-chairmen, although there is no conclusive evidence that Jews comprise a higher proportion of the population in southern California than in the Bay 85 area. One possible explanation for the apparently 83 See, for example, Raymond E. Wo1finger and Fred I. Greenstein, "Comparing Political Regional The Case of California," American Political Science Review, 63 (March, 1969), p. 83; James Q. Wilson, "A Guide to Reagon County," Commentary, 43 (May, 1967), pp. 38-40, 42; and Rogin and Shover, op. cit., especially pp. 156-157. 84 Wolfinger and Greenstein, op. cit., pp. 83-84; Rogin and Shover, loc. cit.; and Wilson, "Reagan Country," p. 39. 85 Wilson, loc. cit., specifically, in Los Angeles as compared to San Francisco. But see Wolfinger and 321 TABLE 17 RELIGIOUS AFFILIATIONS OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN Affiliation All (N-48) « North (N-19) « South (N-29) I Catholic 27.1 21.1 31.1 Protestant 35.4 52.6 24.1 Jewish 10.4 5.3 13.8 Other 6.3 5.3 6.9 None 18.8 15.8 20.7 No answer 2.1 0.0 3.5 Total 100.1 100.1 100.1 TABLE 18 RACE OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN, COMPARED WITH DEMOCRATIC VOTERS, BY PERCENTAGES * Gubernatorial U.S. Senatorial Race Co-Chairmen Vote— 1966 Vote— 1968 White 88 87 91 Negro 4 10 7 Other 4 3 2 No answer 4 0 0 Total 100 100 100 *The vote data are from Owens, Costantini, and Weschler, op* cit., p. 119. 322 anomalous distribution of Catholics and Protestants among northern and southern co-chairmen may be that two of the most populous of the Bay Area counties— San Francisco and San Mateo— are not represented in the sample of co-chair- Table 18 indicates that Negroes and other non whites were somewhat underrepresented among co-chairmen, in comparison with their contribution to the statewide Demo- 87 cratic vote. Extrapolation from the data on the na tionality backgrounds of Democratic national convention delegates leads to the conclusion that non-whites and Greenstein, op. cit., p. 77, n. 10, who imply that the Jewish community in Los Angeles is larger than that in the Bay Area. 86 The other Bay Area counties used by Wolfinger and Greenstein were apparently Santa Clara, Marin, Alameda, Santa Cruz, and Contra Costa. The 1936 census data indicated that 70 percent of the reported church membership in San Francisco was Catho lic (wllson, "Reagan Country," p. 39). The percentage of Catholics in the Bay Area as a whole was about 66 (Wol finger and Greenstein, op. cit., p. 83). Measures of re ligious affiliation which are based on church membership tend to inflate the proportion of Catholics because many nominal Protestants do not hold formal membership in a church, in 1964, Catholics comprised 40 percent of the white respondents surveyed in the Bay Area by the Califor nia Poll and 24 percent of those surveyed in northern Cal ifornia (Wolfinger and Greenstein, loc. cit.). 87 Negroes comprised 12,7 percent of the "State Central Committee leadership group" in Michigan (Sawyer* op. cit., p. 43). This was greater than the Negro propor- tlon of the Population (6.9 percent in 1950) (ibid., pp. 9, 43). 323 people of Latin descent are also underrepresented among 88 these cross-sections of party leaders. Because of the small number of non-whites who responded to the question naire, it is not possible to attach much significance to the regional distribution of non-whites between northern and southern co-chairmen (Table 19). In general, the data on co-chairmen suggest that low status, as defined here by religion and race, is less of an obstacle to participation in this stratum of party leadership positions than low social class, as defined by education, occupation, and income. Conclusion While co-chairmen are not representative of rank- and-file party voters, they are qualified, by their social class characteristics, especially by their high level of education, to meet the challenges of organizational lead ership in terms of possessing the requisite cognitive 89 abilities and communicative skills. By virtue of their 88 Owens, Costantini, and Weschler, op, cit., Table 6— 1, p. 223. No question on nationality background was included in the co-chairman survey. A perusal of the full roster of seventy-six co-chairmen indicates that only four (5.3 percent) had clearly Spanish surnames, a pro portion less than that of the Mexican-Americans in the population. 89 The authors of the American Voter assert that education "is the dimension of status tnai seems most cen tral to political participation" (p. 476). They do indi- 324 TABLE 19 RACE OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN RAce All (N*48) t North (N-19) % South (N-29) % White Negro Other No answer 87.5 4.2 4.2 4.2 79.0 5.3 5.3 10.5 93.1 3.5 3.5 0.0 Total 100.1 100.1 100.1 TABLE 20 RESIDENTIAL STABILITY OF i CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN All North South Indices of Stability % Years % Years t Years Raised in West or West and other region Lived in Calif, since 10 years or age or lessa Born in Calif, and con tinuous residence Calif, resident more than half of life Median years of resi dence in California Median years of resi dence in present county 60.4 39.6 18.8 77.1 28 20 68.4 47.4 36.8 84.2 30-35 15-18 55.2 34.5 6.9 72.4 25-28 23-26 Those who lived in California since they were 12 years of age or less conprised 47.9 percent of the sample (57.9 percent of the northern co-chairmen and 41.4 percent of the southern co-chairmen). 325 incomes and occupations, they may also be said to have the financial resources, the occupational dispensability and/ or congruence with political activity, and the leisure time to devote to leadership tasks. Reflecting on the socio-economic characteristics of county chairmen, Hart made an observation that applies equally well to congressional co-chairmen. He suggested that the parties' organizational personnel: ...consists of articulate, ambitious, success- oriented people. This means that if the parties are to obtain the maximum output from them, the leadership of the parties must make special provisions to deal with them. From all indica tions, it is doubtful that much effort has been exerted in this direction.90 It must be conceded that legal and other factors greatly inhibit the effectiveness of formal party organi zations in California. A question may be raised, however, as to whether party leaders at the highest level fully ex ploit the available organizational resources represented by the quality of middle leadership personnel. cate participation than in other forms of participation, such as "opinion leadership," but they do not deny that education is one of the most important factors (p. 477). 90 Hart, op. cit.. p. 133. 326 Roots in the Community: Residential Stability and Martial and Parental Statuses Residential Stability Californians are a peripatetic breed, as evidenced by a spectacular record of in-migration and by a high rate 91 of intra-state residential mobility. Co-chairmen are as likely as their fellow Californians to be from somewhere else. Although no item in the questionnaire was specific ally designed to obtain information about the respond ents' place of birth, a collation of age and years of resi dence in California showed that only 18.8 percent of the co-chairmen were born in California and have lived in the 91 A survey taken in 1967, for example, indicated that three-fourths of the adult population and almost two- thirds of the population as a whole were non-natives (see Gladwin Hill, The Dancing Bear [New York: World Publishing Company, 1968], p. lo). Of the California population five years of age and older in 1960, only 37 percent had been living in the same house in 1955. Of the remainder, 17 percent had moved to California from another state or from abroad; 11 percent had moved from a different county within California; 33 percent had moved their residence within the same county; and 2 percent had moved but their previous ad dress was unknown. Thus, at least 44 percent of the state's population had moved within the state during the previous five years. This was more than two and one-half times the number of people who had moved from another state during the same period (see Owens, Costantini, and Wesch ler, op. cit., pp. 9-10; and Wolfinger and Greenstein, op. cit., p. 83). 327 state all of their lives (Table 20). This percentage may understate the proportion of co-chairmen who were actually born in California because some may have been born in the state, lived elsewhere for some period, and then returned. If 18.8 percent is a rough approximation of the proportion born in California, then co-chairmen were much less likely to be natives than California state legislators, 44 percent of whom reported, in 1957, that they were born in the 92 state. Co-chairmen were also less likely to be natives of their state than the members of the "State Central Com mittee leadership group" in Michigan, 46.9 percent of whom 93 were born in Michigan. 92 Wahlke, et al., op. cit., Appendix v, p. 488. California state legislators, however, were much less like ly to be natives than the legislators sampled in three other states. Donald Mathews has indicated that "political de cision-makers" are more geographically mobile than "the average American" (op. cit., p. 33). It should be noted that place of origin is only one index of mobility and that mobility rates may vary among different leadership strata, among different states, and among different regions within the same state 93 Sawyer, op. cit., p. 36. Only 36.7 percent of the Democratic members of the Michigan House of Representa tives were born in Michigan, as compared to 81.8 percent of the Democratic members of the state senate (pp. 36-37). Sawyer points to the heavy in-migration of southern whites and negroes since the 1920's and the greater representation of southern-born people in certain leadership strata as a partial explanation of the lower proportion of Michigan natives in the "State Central Committee leadership group" than in the "middle leadership group" and in the House of Representatives than in the senate (pp. 10, 37). 328 Zt is not surprising, given the greater magnitude of in-migration to southern California, that a far greater proportion of northern co-chairmen (36.8 percent) than of southern co-chairmen (6.9 percent) were born in California and have lived in the state continuously. Northern co- chairmen were more likely to be native Californians and were more likely to have spent a greater part of their 94 lives in the western United States and in California. Sixty percent (60.4) of the sample were raised, during at least some part of their youth in the West; 94 Rogin and Shover have described the regional differences in magnitude of in-migration in some detail. Between 1930 and 1960, the population of northern Califor nia increased from 2.7 million to 6.7 million, while the population of southern California increased from 2.9 mil lion. "Six of the eight southern counties, plus six of the fifty northern ones, make up the twelve counties with the greatest rate of population growth between 1950 and 1960." Rogin and Shover point out that "since newcomers continu ously pour into the area, native Californians have always been scarcer in the south than in the north. In 1960, one-half to two-thirds of the population of each southern county had been born outside the state." Thus, in 1960, "southern counties comprised five of the top six, and seven of the top ten, counties in the percentage of non-native California residents. Only one Bay Area county was includ ed in the top ten" (op* cit., pp. 155-156, 201, n.l). Wolfinger and Greenstein report that half of the residents in two major northern metropolitan areas (San Francisco-Oakland and San Jose) were born in California, compared to a third for each of the two major metropolitan areas (Los Angeles-Long Beach and San Diego) in southern California ( op. cit.. p. 84). See also Owens, Costantini, and Weschler, op. cit.. pp. 12, 17-18). 329 39.6 percent were raised in the West (and in no ether region) and have lived in California since they were ten years of age or less; and 77.1 percent have spent more than half of their lives in California (Table 20). Although congressional delegates to the Michigan state central com mittee were more likely to be natives of their state, the proportion of those reported to have "lived most of their lives in Michigan" was 81.2 percent, only 4.1 percent high er than the proportion of co-chairmen who have lived more than half of their lives in California.^5 A greater proportion of northern co-chairmen (68.4 percent) than of southern co-chairmen (55.2 percent) spent at least part of their growing-up years in the West. Forty-seven percent (47.4) of the northern co-chairmen were raised exclusively in the West and have lived in Cal ifornia since they were ten years of age or less. The comparable proportion of southerners was only 34.5 percent. Eight-four percent (84.2) of the northern co-chairmen and 72.4 percent of the southern co-chairmen have spent more than half of their lives in California (Table 20). Place of birth is only one measure of mobility. Although co-chairmen tend to come from elsewhere, they also tend to be relatively long-term residents of California. 95 Sawyer, op. cit.. Table X, p. 36. 330 Only one co-chairman, a southern Californian, had less than ten years of residence in the state (Table 21). Eighty-three percent (83.3) had lived in California for 20 years or more; 45.8 percent had lived in California for 30 years or more. The median years of residence in the state was 28 years. In keeping with the place of origin data (Tables 20 and 22), northern co-chairmen were more likely to be long-term residents of the state than southern co-chairmen (Table 21). Of the northerners, 89.5 percent had lived in California 20 years or more, and 57.9 percent had lived in the state for 30 years or more. Of the southern co-chair men, 79.3 percent had 20 years of residence, and 37.9 per cent had 30 or more years. The median years of residence for northern co-chairmen was 30 to 35 years; for souther ners, the median was 25 to 28 years. The regional origins of co-chairmen were in keep ing with regional place of origin differences in the popu lation as a whole. After the great population influx triggered by the Gold Rush, northern California was set tled by migrants from the northeastern United States and from Europe. Los Angeles' first great influx contained a 96 much higher proportion of Midwesterners. The same 96 Wolfinger and Greenstein, op. cit., p. 83. 331 TABLE 21 CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN: LENGTH OF RESIDENCE IN CALIFORNIA All North South (N-48) (N-19) (N-29) Years % % « Under 10 2.1 0.0 3.5 10-19 14.6 10.5 17.2 20-29 37.5 31.6 41.4 30-40 22.9 31.6 17.2 More than 40 22.9 26.3 20.7 Total 100.0 100.0 100.0 TABLE 22 WHERE CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN WERE RAISED, BY REGION Region All (NM4M « North 00**19 « South (10*39) t East 6.3 0.0 10.4 West 54.2 63.2 48.3 West and East or Midwest 6.3 5.3 6.9 Midwest 12.5 10.5 13.8 South 8.3 5.3 10.4 Abroad 2.1 5.3 0.0 No answer 10.4 10.5 10.4 Total 100.1 100.1 100.2 332 difference* in sources of in-migration continued through 97 the period between the world wars. After World War II, there was some convergence in the sources of out-of-state migrants. From 1955-1960, southern California received somewhat more newcomers from both the South and the East, considerably more from the Midwest, and far fewer migrants 98 from other regions within California. New arrivals to northern California were more likely to be from elsewhere in California.99 The congressional district co-chairmen reflected these place of origin differences, although not as sharply as the population as a whole (Table 22). Of the co-chair men raised in some region other than the western United States, most (12.5 percent of the sample) were raised in the Midwest (10.4 percent of northerners and 13.8 percent 97 Ibid. In 1940, 28 percent of the population of Los Angeles County had come from the "heartland" of the Midwest and from the border states and "near south." Less than 10 percent of the people living in San Francisco were from these areas. Between 1920 and 1940, over 400,000 people moved from the heartland to Los Angeles; less than one-tenth as many moved to San Francisco (Wilson, "Reagan Country," p. 38). See also Rogin and Shover, op. cit., pp. 156-157; and Daniel J. Elazar, American Federalism: A view From the States (New York; Thomas Y. Crowell Company, I*W7pp. 1TM-105. 98 Wolfinger and Greenstein, loc. cit. 333 of southerners). The proportion of co-chairmen from the South and East reflect the more recent regional convergence of out-of-state migrational patterns: southern co-chairmen were more likely to come from both of these regions. Donald Mathews, in hie study of the social back ground of high public officals, indicated that they tended to originate in rural areas and small towns but to reside in urban areas.In one respect, a similar tendency ap peared among co-chairmen. Although 85.6 percent of the sample currently reside in metropolitan environments (as sembly districts which are wholly or partly urban and/or suburban in ecological character), only 62.6 percent spent at least part of their youth in big city and/or suburban community (63.2 percent of the northerners and 62.1 percent of southerners) (Table 23). Most of the remainder were raised in small cities. In another respect, the co-chair men did not conform to the anticipated pattern: 14.6 per cent of the sample (26.3 percent of northern co-chairmen and 6.9 percent of southern co-chairmen) currently reside in rural areas, as defined by the ecological character of their assembly districts, but only 6.3 percent of the sample (more northerners than southerners) were raised in village/ 100Mathews, loc. cit. 334 TABLE 23 WHERE CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN WERE RAISED, BY TYPE OF COMMUNITY All North South (N-48) (N-19) (N-29) Type of Community « % % Big city 39.6 42.1 37.9 Big city and other typo* 12.6 15.8 10.4 Suburbs 10.4 5.3 13.8 Small city 29.2 26.3 31.1 Village/farm 6.3 10.5 3.5 No answer 2.1 0.0 3.5 Total 100.2 100.0 100.2 aSuburbs, small city, village/farm. TABLE 24 CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN: LENGTH OF RESIDENCE IN PRESENT COUNTY All North South (N-48) (N-19) (N-29) Years « « 1 Under 10 25.0 36.8 17.2 10-19 22.9 31.6 17.2 20-29 29.2 21.1 34.5 30-40 12.5 10.5 13.8 More than 40 10.4 0.0 17.2 Total 100.01 100.0 99.9 335 farm communities.101 Although northern co-chairmen have lived in Cali fornia longer than southern co-chairmen, the southerners were more likely to be long-term residents of their present county. The median years of residence in present county was 20 years for the whole sample, 20-24 years for southern Californians, and 15-18 years for northern Californians. Fifty-two percent (52.1) of the whole sample had lived in their county of current residence for 20 years or more; 25 percent had lived there for 30 years or more (Table 24). Sixty-six percent (65.5) of the southerners had lived in their present county for 20 years or more, as compared to only 31.6 percent of the northerners. Thirty-one percent of the southern co-chairmen, but only 10.5 percent of the northern co-chairmen, had lived in their county for 30 years or more. Length of county residence is not a satisfactory measure of residential movement over relatively short dis tances. Californians display an extraordinary disposition to change their residence within the state. They move two Among the California state legislators surveyed in 1957, 45 percent grew up "in a city," 23 percent "in a small town," 21 percent "on a fram," and 11 percent in some combination of ecological areas (Wahlke, etal., op. clt., Appeendix V, p. 489). 336 102 or three times more frequently than other Americans. About 45 percent of the population in 1960 had moved within the state during the previous five years, but only 11 per cent changed their county of residence. Southern Califor nians are more likely to change their place of residence 103 than northerners, but southern counties are larger in geographical size. Consequently, residential movement over the same distances is less likely to carry southern Cali fornians across county lines. Hart used only one index of geographical mobility: county residence. His data indicate that Democratic county chairmen were no more likely than congressional co-chairmen to live in their present county for relatively long periods 102 Owens, Costantini, and Weschler, op. cit., p. 9. ^^Ibid.. p. 10. "...One out of two families in some northern areas change their residence in a year's time. In some southern California areas the number jumps to as many as two out of three families." Owens, Costan tini, and Weschler point out that "as a result of population movement nothing is more useless than last year's Los Angeles telephone book." It appears that co-chairmen are less likely to be relative newcomers than the population as a whole. Seven teen percent of the 1960 population were residing outside of California during the previous five years; only one co- chairman, a southern Californian, had resided in the state five years or less. Co-chairmen, however, were more likely to move from one county to another. While 11 percent of - the 1960 population had moved from a different county with in the state during the previous five years, 18.8 percent of the co-chairman sample (31.6 percent of the northerners, 6.9 pigment of the southerners) had resided in their pres ent county for five years or less. 337 of time. Seventy-six percent of the county chairmen and 75 percent of the congressional co-chairmen had lived in 104 their county for 10 years or more. Marital and Parental Statuses Ninety-six percent (95.9) of the co-chairmen are or have been married (Table 25). Only two co-chairmen, the youngest, were single (Table 26). Both lived in southern California. Northern co-chairmen were somewhat more likely to be divorced or separated than southern co-chairmen. Only three of those who are or have been married have no children. The mean number of children per married or previously married person was 2.7 (Table 25). Seventeen percent (16.7) of the sample had relatively large families of from five to eight children (Table 27). A significantly larger proportion of northerners (26.4 percent) had families of this size than southerners (10.4 percent). Seventy-five percent of the sample had from one to four children (63.3 percent of the northerners and 79.3 percent of the souther ners) . The family statuses of co-chairmen are similar to those of the "State Central Committee leadership group" in Michigan. Ninety-four percent (93.8) of this group were *°*Hart, op. cit.f p. 142. TABLE 25 FAMILY STATUS OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN 338 Marital and Parental Status All (N-48) North (N-19) South (N-29) Percent married or previ ously married 95.9% 100.0% 93.2% Mean number of children per married or previously married person 2.7 2.7 2.7 Percent childless 10.4% 10.5% 10.4% TABLE 26 MARITAL STATUS OF CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN All North South (N-48) (N-19) (N-29) Marital Status % % % Married 79.2 84.2 75.9 Single 4.2 0.0 6.9 Widowed 4.2 0.0 6.9 Divorced/separated 12.5 15.8 10.4 Total 100.1 18000 100.1 339 TABLE 27 CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN: NUMBER OF CHILDREN Number All (N-48) % North (N-19) 1 South (N-29) « None 10.4 10.5 10.4 1-2 45.8 42.1 48.3 3-4 27.1 21.1 31.1 5-6 14.6 26.3 6.9 7-8 2.1 0.0 3.5 Total 100.0 100.0 100.2 TABLE 28 CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN: PARENTAL POLITICAL ACTIVITY All (N-48) 6 Both not active 72.9 One not active, one somewhat active 8.3 One not active, one very active 4.2 Both somewhat active 4.2 One somewhat active, one very active 6.3 Both very active 4.2 Total 100.1 340 married or divorced; 12.S percent were childlese. The 105 mean number of children per married person was 2.7. Conclusions Co-chairmen reflect the geographical mobility of the population as a whole. They tend to have been raised, and to have undergone their early political socialization, elsewhere. On the other hand, the data presented above have suggested that co-chairmen have substantial anchorage in the state and in their local communities. Slightly less than half (47.9 percent) have lived in California since they were 12 years old or less; more than three-fourths have spent more than half of their lives in California; more than eighty percent have lived in the state for 20 years or more; more than half have lived in their present county for 20 years or more. Almost eighty percent are presently married, and, of those who are or have been mar ried, over ninety percent (93.5) have children. It is obviously not necessary to be a Native Son or Daughter of the Golden West or to be a descendant of the early American settlers to achieve a position in the "mid dle " stratum of state party leadership. It does help, how ever, to have developed roots in one's state (native or 105Sawyer, op. cit., p. 38. 341 adopted) and local community. Co-chairmen do tend to have such anchorage. They have had sufficient stability to be come well-established financially; to acquire the familial obligations, which given them a stake in the community; to develop social and political ties; and to acquire a famili arity with state and local political conditions and per sonalities. Political Experience and Involvement Social characteristics obviously affect the selec tion of co-chairmen. Whether their impact is primarily a matter of high reputability, in the case of social class achievement; representativeness, in the case of ascribed status characteristics; a perceived relationship between certain social characteristics and the possession of re sources, such as time, money, and knowledge, required to assume and fulfill leadership responsibilities; or some combination of these and other factors is open to conjee* ture. Social characteristics do relate to the potential political competence of party activists. By virtue of such characteristics, the co-chairmen are likely to have the cognitive abilities and verbal skills and the personal con fidence and initiative to fulfill complex organizational 342 demands and to exercise leadership, even though the respon sibilities of their organizational position are vaguely defined. The co-chairmen have sufficient roots in the state and their local communities to have acquired knowledge about state and local politics and to have developed a commitment to and involvement in the affairs of the Democratic Party, These qualities suggest that the co-chairmen are capable of making a substantial contribution to the collective func tions of the executive committee and to the conduct of party business in their districts. Their potential contribution is enhanced by the length and variety of their political experience. The questionnaire administered to the co-chairmen contained several measures of political experience and in volvement. These included questions on the length of par ticipation in party activity, candidacy for elective public office, appointive positions in government, membership and leadership positions in official and unofficial party or ganizations, prior membership in the state committee and executive committee, and participation in state committee subcommittees. As in the case of social characteristics, experience in party politics affects the selection of co- chairmen and their ability to carry out the responsibilities of their office. 343 Parental Political Activity As have other studies of political leaders and activists, this one showed that co-chairmen were more like ly than American adults as a whole to have been raised in politicized families, in which at least one parent was politically active. Such families are a rarity in American society. Lester Milbrath, summarizing much of the rele vant literature, estimated that only about ten percent of the adult population may be deemed "politically active," if the definition of "active" is extended to those who make monetary contributions. Only between four and five percent are active in the sense of holding memberships in party or ganizations, contributing time in political campaigns, and attending party meetings.1-06 The co-chairmen were asked to indicate if, while they were growing up, one or both of their parents were very active, somewhat active, or not active in politics. The results are presented in Tables 28 and 29. Twenty- seven percent (27.1) had at least one parent who was either somewhat or very active. Fifteen percent (14.6) had at 107 least one very active parent. A greater proportion of 106Milbrath, op. cit., pp. 18-19. 107 Although women are more likely than men to be politically inactive, this was not true of the parents of the co-chairmen. The same percentage (79.2) of mothers 344 TABLE 29 REGIONAL DIFFERENCES IN POLITICAL ACTIVITY OF CO-CHAIRMEN'S PARENTS All North South - (N-48) (N-19)- (N-29) % 1 t Both not active 72.9 79.0 69.0 At least one either some what or very active 27.1 21.1 31.1 At least one very active 14.6 10.5 17.2 One or both somewhat and/ or very active 14.6 5.3 20.7 TABLE 30 CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN: NUMBER OF YEARS OF PARTY ACTIVITY Years All (N-48) % North (N-19) % South (N-29) % Under 10 25.0 26.3 24.1 10-19 41.7 42.1 41.4 20-29 22.9 26.3 20.7 30-35a 10.4 5.3 13.8 Total 100.0 100.0 100.0 aIncludes one sixty-eight year old who answered, "all my life." 345 southern co-chairmen than of northern co-chairmen had politically active parents. Co-chairmen, as a group, seem less likely to have come from highly politicized immediate families than other leaders and activists. Any comparisons are very question able, however, because of differences in the leadership strata examined and in the ways in which relevant ques- 108 tions are worded. For some unexplained reason. Sawyer, for example, presents no data for the parental political activity of the comparable stratum of state organizational leadership in Michigan. He does present such data, how- and fathers were rated "not active." Among active parents, however, fathers were more likely than mothers to be rated "very active." 108 Wahlke and his associates (op. cit., p. 82) found that 43 percent of California stale legislators (in cluding Republicans) had families in which one or more mem bers had been active in politics. This finding is not com parable with that of the present study because it encom passes relatives in addition to parents. The same is true of Bowman and Boynton's finding that 49 percent of local Democratic officials in North Carolina and 39 percent of those in Massachusetts came from families in which one or more members had bean politically active (Lewis Bowman and G. R. Boynton, "Recruitment Patterns Among Local Party Of ficials! A Model and Some Preliminary Findings in Selected Locales," American Political Science Review, €0 [September, 1966], Table J, p. 672}. Dwaine karvick and Charles Nixon reported that 36 percent of their sample of Democratic campaign workers in Los Angeles had at least one politic ally active parent ("Recruitment Contrasts in Rival Cam paign Groups," in Political Decision-makers, ed. by Dwaine Marvick [Glencoe, Illinois! Free Press, 1961], p. 209. 346 ever, for the "top" and "middle" leadership groups. Forty- five percent of the top leadership group and 29.4 percent of the middle group reported that one or both parents were 109 politically active. Length of Experience in Party Affairs The median years of active participation in poli tics for the whole sample was fifteen.Regional differ ences in the length of party involvement in party affairs were not great. Seventy-five percent of the sample had been active in party politics for ten years or more (Table 30). One-third had been active for twenty years or more. Although co-chairmen, as a group, have been active in party affairs for a substantial period of time, there were some notable exceptions. Eight people (16.7 percent of the sample) had been active for five years or less, three people for three years or less. These newcomers to party activity tended to be southern Californians (six of the eight), in the highest income bracket (six of the 109 Sawyer, op. cit., p. 42. ^*®Cf. Leon D. Epstein's discussion of "political generational1 in Politics in Wisconsin (Madison i University of Wisconsin Press, 1958), pp. 86-88. The median years of active party work for Democratic county chairmen in Wis consin was only seven years (p. 87). Neither Hart nor Sawyer presented data which can be used for comparison with those presented here. 347 eight), relatively short-term residents of the state and of their respective counties (six of the eight had less than the median years of state and/or county residence for the whole sample), and young (six of the eight were younger than the median years for the whole sample). Three of the eight had been candidates for public office in 1970. Thus, while three-fourths of the co-chairmen had at least ten years of experience in party politics, novices were not barred from entry into the middle leadership ranks of the state party organization. The ages at which co-chairmen began their party activities ranged from thirteen to fifty-three. Seventeen percent (16.7) started when they were under twenty years of age; 18.8 percent started when they were forty years or more (Table 31.). The median age for commencement of party activity was twenty-nine. In terms of length of involvement in party activi ty, co-chairmen were somewhat less experienced than the Democratic national convention delegates in 1960 and some what more experienced than the delegates in 1964.111 The time intervals presented for the party activity of dele gates do not exactly match those used for the co-chairmen, but, by lumping some categories together, it is possible ^^Owans, Costantini, and Weschler, op. cit., p. 228. 348 TABLE 31 AGE AT WHICH CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN BEGAN PARTY ACTIVITY All North South (N-48) (N-19) (N-29) Age % % % Under 20 16.7 21.1 13.8 20-29 33.3 31.6 34.5 30-39 31.3 26.3 34.5 40-49 16.7 21.1 13.8 50-59 2.1 0.0 3.5 Total 100.1 18001 100.1 TABLE 32 NUMBER OF YEARS OF PARTY ACTIVITY: CONGRESSIONAL CO •CHAIRMEN AND DEMOCRATIC NATIONAL CONVENTION DELEGATES ,COMPARED, BY PERCEN1AGES Delegates Years Co-Chairmen 19«(T" " '1764 10 mmd over 20 and over 30 and over 75% 33 10 72% 75% 41 26 16 11 349 to make a rough comparison (Table 32). The average number of years of party activity for co-chairmen and for national 112 convention delegates was the same: fifteen years. Types of Political Experience (1)— Elective and Appointive Public 0fflc5 The questionnaire administered to the co-chairmen contained items relating to two categories of political experience: (1) elective and appointive public office- holding (or candidacy), and (2) membership and leadership in official and unofficial party organizations. In discussing the relationship between party organ izational leaders and elective public officals, Avery Leiserson has observed that few elective officials "come from a subordinate position in party organizations."113 He contends that the principle of "availability" limits the extent to which local party workers and leaders run for public office because "they recognize, and the leaders of constituency organizations know, that competent party work alone does not constitute a qualification for a place on a winning ticket."124 When local party leaders do seek pub-* lie office, they "tend to restrict their sights" to munici 112Ibid., p. 227. 113 Avery Leiserson, Parties and Politics (New York* Alfred A. ICnoph, 195877 pp/ 70TJ-20T.---- 114Ibld., p. 201. 350 pal and county offices "rather than to aspire to a role in state or national politics.115 The highest office normally reached by local party leaders or workers is that of state legislator."116 As Samuel C. Patterson has suggested, Leiserson*s hypotheses may be tested, not only by investigating the party organizational experiences of elective officials, but also by investigating the extent to which party leaders have sought or have held elective or appointivs^public office.11^ Leiserson's contentions, as elaborated by Patter* son, suggest three specific hypotheses about the political experience of party leaders, which may be examined in rela tion to the co-chairmen: (1) that the co-chairmen are not likely to have been elective public officeholders or candidates; (2) that those who have run for or who have held elective public office are more likely to have done so at the municipal or county levels of government than at the state or national levels; (3) that those who have held ap pointive positions are more likely to have done so at the 115ibid. 116ibid. 117 Samuel C. Patterson, iCharacteristics of Party Leaders," Western Political Quarterly, 16 (June, 1963), pp. 343-34TT 351 118 local level than at the state or national levels. Leiserson's observation that few elective officials have served an apprenticeship as local party organizational leaders and/or workers will be considered in the next sub section, which deals with the party organizational experi ences of co-chairmen. There is a conceptual problem, which should be kept in mind in examining the application of these hypoth eses to co-chairmen: the categories of "local party leader," "local party worker," and "subordinate" party positions are very loose and may not be entirely appropri ate to the intermediate organizational status of co-chair men. In Leiserson's conception, the pattern or public officeholding among party organizational personnel is a function of the relationship between the level of public office and the level of party office. The problem is that the hierarchical structure of party organizations within the states is seldom, if ever, pyramidal. Subordinate- superordinate relationships and the distribution of power and authority among organizational positions are often unclear, even to the occupants of the positions} and party 118 Patterson's finding for Oklahoma county chair men diverged from the pattern anticipated here: county’ chairmen who had held appoi-tive positions had done so primarily at the county and state levels rather than at the municipal and national levels (Ibid., p. 344). 352 119 organizational career sequences are diverse. The "level" or status of organizational offices is also blur red by the fact that local party leaders may also hold co terminous positions in state organizations, as California county chairmen do as members of the executive commit tee,120 Consequently, any matching of the "level" of party position with the "level" of public office has, at best, a tenuous foundation, conceptually and empirically. Table 33 indicates that the first hypothesis does hold true for co-chairment only 37.5 percent of the sample had been candidates for public office (31,6 percent of the northerners and 41.4 percent of the southerners), and only 10.4 percent of the sample had been successful candi- The second hypothesis is also substantiated by 119 See Eldersveld, op. cit., especially chaps, v, pp. 98-117; vii, pp. 135-175^ 120 Tor other examples and comparisons of the ex tent to which county party leaders in Wisconsi, Kansas, and Oklahoma participate in state and national organiza tional affairs, see Patterson, op. cit., p. 346. 121 Ibid., pp. 344-345. Patterson found that less than 30 percent of Democratic county leaders in Oklahoma had held elective public office; 16.9 percent of the Demo cratic chairmen and 8.6 percent of the co-chairmen had been defeated candidates. (Nearly half of those who had been defeated, however, had also been elected.) See also Epstein, op. cit., Table V-C. Twenty-nine percent of local Democratic officials in Wisconsin had been elected to pub- licoffice; 43.9 percent had been defeated. 353 TABLE 33 PVBLZC OFFICES SOUGHT BY CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN* All (N-48) « North (N-19) « South (N-29) « w Local Government 29.2 31.6 27.6 State legislative 12.5 10.5 13.8 Congressional 6.3 5.3 6.9 None/no answer 62.5 68.4 58.6 Percentages pie responses. do not equal 100 because of multi h Includes six who ran for city or county level office, six who ran for a position on a community ' college board of trustees, and onei who ran for judge. TABLE 34 APPOINTIVE POSITIONS HELD BY CO-CHAIRMEN* All North South (N-48) (N-19) (N-29) % « % County or city level 22.9 15.8 27.6 State or national legislative lative 10.5 10.5 10.4 State or national adminis trative 10.5 21.1 3.5 Unclassif£able 2.1 5.3 0.0 None/no answer 60.5 57.9 62.1 Percentage exceeds 100 because of multiple responses 354 Table 33, Given the existence of non-partisan local elec tions in California, the lack of any official party organi zational base below the county level, the advantages enjoy- 122 ed by Republicans in winning local elections. and the belief among Democrats that nonpartisanship is an obstacle 123 to their electoral success at the local level, it might be expected that Democrats aspiring to elective office in California would avoid the bottom of the political "escala tor" and look to the state legislature as the port of entry 124 to public office. Eugene Lee has pointed out, however, 122 Eugene C. Lee, The Politics of Nonpartisanship (Berkeley: University of California Press, I9S0), pp. ?>5- 59. 123 Ibid., pp. 110-111. Sixty-one percent of the Democratic county chairmen surveyed by Lee thought that lo cal elections should be made partisan, as compared to 35 percent of Republican county chairmen. A survey of party leaders by an Assembly committee in 1962 also found Demo crats to be more favorable than Republicans to making local elections partisan. See Assembly Interim Committee on Elections and Reapportionment, op. cit., pp. 32-33. 124 The term"escalator" is borrowed from Wahlke, et. al. They found that 32 percent of California state legislators had held prior "legislative-type" office at the local level, as compared to 48 percent of the state legis lators in New Jersey, 36 percent in Ohio, and 30 percent in Tennessee. Although, with the exception of New Jersey, the percentage differences among the states were relatively small, they contended that the extent to which state legis lators had held local office depended on the degree of party competition in legislative districts ( op. cit., p. 96). No breakdown was presented by party affiliation. Lee's data indicate that about 41 percent of the state legislators serving in California in 1960 had held local offices, including elective executive and appointive 355 that "political parties and partisanship are not irrele- 125 vant in nonpartisan politics." The role of these fac tors varies from one community to another, depending on 126 population size and other variables. Even though local elections are non-partisan, they still provide nascent politicians with an opportunity to gain political experience and exposure. Those co-chairmen who have aspired to public office have apparently recognized this opportunity. As Table 33 indicates, a higher propor tion were likely to have been candidates for local govern mental offices (city-level, county-level, school board, and judicial) than for state and national legislative offices. All of those who had been successful candidates had held local positions (four school board members and one county- 127 level official). Northern co-chairmen were more likely offices ( Nonpartisanship, p. 109). In refutation of the belief that were i* a cause-and-effect relationship be-•_ tween Republican electoral successes at the state and na tional levels and Republican dominance of local offices, Lee points out that the proportion of Democratic state and national officials in 1960, who had held local elective of fice, was substantially greater (31 percent) than the pro portion of Republicans (16 percent) (ibid., p. 110). 125 Lee, Nonpartisanship, P. 117. 126Ibid., chap. vii, pp. 97-118. 127 At least two co-chairmen who did not respond to the questionnaire were elective officials (state legisla tors) . Cf. Hart, op. cit., p. 154. Less than ten percent 356 to have been candidatea for local offices, except for school board posts; southern co-chairmen were more likely to have been candidates for state legislative and congres sional positions. The extent to which party leaders hold appointive positions in government depends on several factors, includ ing the availability of such positions, which varies from state to state and from one level of government to another; the desirability of such positions relative to the motives and goals of people who have the skills and other assets required to fulfill party organizational needs; and the relative salience of other incentives in motivating people 128 to seek or accept party office. Given the generally low availability of patronage in California, the high social class achievement of co- chairmen, and the putative importance of issue and ideologi- of the county chairmen in either party included municipal politics in a listing of their political experience, "eith er {because] they did not participate on those levels or they did not belive that such experience was significant." Hart's data were based on responses to an open-ended ques tion about political experience in general^ and, as a result, do not provide a satisfactory comparison with the data de rived from the co-chairmen's responses to a structured question. Also see Patterson, op. cit., p. 344. Of those Democratic county leaders who had held elective office in Oklahoma, a much higher proportion had done so at the mu nicipal and county levels than at the state and national levels. 128 For a general discussion of patronage and other incentives for party work, see Sorauf, op. cit., pp. 87-98. 357 cal motivations for Democratic party activists, it is sur prising that almost forty percent (39.6) of the sample 120 have held appointive positions in government (Table 34). In confirmation of the third hypothesis, most of these (22.9 percent of the sample) have held such posts at the local governmental level. Eleven percent (10.5) have held state or national legislative staff positions.Northern co-chairmen were generally more likely to have held ap pointive positions than southern co-chairmen. Southerners were somewhat more likely to have held appointive positions in local government but were much less likely to have held state and national administrative positions. The propor tion of northern and southern co-chairmen who have been legislative staff personnel was about the same. The data presented in Tables 33 and 34 indicate that a substantial proportion, although not a majority, of co-chairmen have had experience as candidates or as ap pointive officials in government. Slightly less than 40 percent have run for elective office or have held appoint ive posts. Host of this experience has been gained at the 129 Wilson discusses the lack of patronage, the high social status of Democratic activists, and the importance of policy goals with reference to California at numerous points in The Amateur Democrat. See also Marvick and Nixon, op. cit., pp. 211-212. 130 Cf. supra, p. 53, n. 120. (renumber in final draft). 358 local level. To the extent that running for elective of fice or serving on local boards and commissions adds to a co-chairman's general knowledge of politics and government and to his store of politically-relevant skills, it en hances his capacity to understand and to contribute to the decision-making activities of the executive committee and his ability to perform organizational and campaign func tions in his district. Types of Political Experience (2)— Party Organizational Membership and Leadership The data on the party organizational memberships and offices held by congressional co-chairmen provide, not only a measure of experience, but also some suggestive glimpses, if not insights, into organizational career pat terns and the degree of membership overlap among various party entities, official and unofficial. James Q. Wilson has suggested that one of the con sequences of party organizational weakness in California is that there is Mno energy sapping career ladder," which requires newcomers to party activity to start at some sub ordinate organizational level and work their way up to positions of party leadership.131 People with "ability but little senority" can rise rapidly to the heights of leader- 131Wilson, Amateur Democrat, p. 105. 359 ship without serving an apprenticeship as party workers in 132 the lower ranks. The three examples of rapid ascent, which Wilson cites (a national committeeman, a CDC President, and a 133 Speaker of the Assembly)# are not sufficient to support a general impression that, in the California Democratic Party, one rises to the higher ranks of party, and even 134 governmental, leadership "almost out of nowhere** or that California party career patterns are exceptional. Implicit in Wilson's discussion is a model of a "normal* 4 or more or less "typical" organizational career pattern in which ad vancement proceeds through a series of steps from lower to higher ranks. In the absense of more comprehensive data about the political career backgrounds of organizational leaders, it is impossible to say whether Wilson's examples are typical or atypical of career patterns or of rates of upward organizational mobility in the top, or other, stra tum of party leaders in California or, for that matter, 135 elsewhere. The axiom, "start higher to end higher," 132Ibid., p. 104. 133Ibid., pp. 104-105. 134Ibid., p. 104. 135 Leiserson, op. cit., p. 202. Cf. Dwaine Mar- vick, "The Middlemen of Politics," in Approaches to the 160 has not been systematically tested with reference to career development patterns of different party organizational levels in different states. If rapid ascent is typical of the top leadership of the Democratic Party in California, it may not be an exception to the career mobility patterns of the tpp lead ers in other state organizations. Sawyer found in the Michigan state committee, for example, that top leaders were younger and exhibited a higher degree of residential mobility than leaders in other strata of the state organi- 136 zation. He also found that only 20 percent of the top leadership group and 29,4 percent of the middle leadership group (apparently serving in 1957-1958) had been active in 137 politics before 1947. Top leaders had risen more rapid ly than those in the middle stratum and were more likely to have commenced their political careers at the state l.vel.13® 136 Sawyer, op. clt., pp. 34, 36. 137 Ibid., p. 42. Similar data were not presented for the "State Central Committee leadership group." 138 Ibid. Twenty-five percent of the top leaders began their political careers at the state level, whereas all of the middle leadership group began at the local level. Cf. Eldersveld, op. cit., pp. 139-141. While no one in the leadership elites of local organizations in Wayne County started at the top, rates of mobility "differed tremend ously" (p. 141), 361 Data on the prior political careers of state legis lators indicated that California Democrats did exhibit a degree of prelegislative party service that was exception al, but in a direction opposite to that suggested by Wil son. California Democratic legislators had a much greater tendency to have held party office or to have done party work than was predicted on the basis of inter-party com- 139 petition. Fifty-nine percent of Democratic state legis lators in California had a prior record of party activity, as compared to 37 percent of California Republicans and to 35 percent of the Democrats and 40 percent of the Republi- 140 cans in the more competitive state of Ohio. The "devi ant** case of California Democrats was explained by the "organizational revival spurred...by the local Democratic 141 club movement.... For the same reason, Democratic state 139 Heinz Eulau, et al., "Career Perspectives of American State Legislators,w in Marvick (ed.), op.clt., pp. 222-225. This article contained some data on prelegis lative careers that were not presented in the more compre hensive work, by Wahlke, et al., The Legislative System. Eulau, Wahlke, and their associates anticipated that pre- legislative political involvement patterns would vary in accordance with the degree of party competition in state legislative districts. The higher the degree of competi tion, the more likely that holding party office or doing party work would be a precondition of a legislative career. California ranked third in competitiveness (after New Jer sey and Ohio) and second in proportion of respondents re porting prior party activity. 140Ibid., p. 225. l41Ibid. 362 legislators similarly deviated from the predicted distribu tion of responses in two other areas related to party in volvement as a precondition for a legislative career: in an unexpectedly high proportion of those who perceived "party sponsorship1 * to be essential to electoral success and of those who perceived that their position was a result 142 of promotion through the party ranks. The data on the length of party activity and on the organizational membership and leadership backgrounds of the co-chairmen indicate that this intermediate leadership corps has had a substantial record of prior party service. As noted above, in the discussion of length of party activ ity, 75 percent of the co-chairmen had been active in party politics for ten years or more; 50 percent had been active for at least fifteen years. Although there were some ex ceptions, the co-chairmen, as a group, had been active in party affairs for a substantial period of time. Co-chairmen asked to indicate if they "have ever held" membership and/or leadership positions in local clubs, 143 county committees, or national convention delegations. 142Ibid., pp. 226-227 143 Co-chairmen were also asked to indicate if they had ever been state coranittee officers. Since many miscon strued the category, "officer, state central committee," to include their position as co-chairman, this category was omitted from the tabulation. 363 Seventy-seven percent (77.1) of the sample hid been local club officials; 45.8 percent had been county committee mem bers; 31.3 percent had held county committee offices; and 14.6 percent had served as national convention delegates or alternates (Table 35).*** Moreover, as will be indicated in greater detail below, over half of the co-chairmen had been state committee members prior to their current term. Only 12.5 percent of the sample had held none of the posi tions listed in Table 35. In every case, except that of national convention delegate or alternate, northern co- chairmen were more likely than southern co-chairmen to have held such positions, by ten percentage points or more. Of the forty-two people Mho had held the positions listed in Table 35, most (54.B percent) had held two or more; 47.6 percent had held from two to three; 7.2 percent had held from three to four (Table 36). The proportion of Cf* Owens, Costantini, and Weschler, ., pp. 227-228. Fifty percent of the 1960 Democratic dele- gates and 34 percent of the 1964 delegates were county com mittee members; 61 percent of the 1960 and 55 percent of the 1964 delegates were state committee members; 47 percent of the 1960 and 56 percent of the 1964 delegates had served on previous delegations: 27 percent of the 1960 and 34 percent of the 1964 delegates had held no official party positions. Few studies of party officials have presented data, comparable with those in this study, on the organisational experience of their subjects in terms of prior party of fice. At least three have done so: Patterson, op. clt., pp. 344-346; Epstein, op. clt., Table V-A, p. 185; and Eldersveld, op. clt., pp. 143-144. 364 TABLE 35 CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN: PARTY POSITIONSa Position All (N-48) % North (N-19) % South (N-29) « Local club official 77.1 84.2 72.4 Chairman, county committee Other office, county 6. 3 15.8 0.0 committee 25.0 31.6 20,7 Member, county committee National convention deleft 45.8 52.6 41.4 alternate 14.6 15.8 13.8 None/no answer 12.5 10.5 13.8 ^Percentages exceed 100 because of multiple positions and rounding. TABLE 36 CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN: NUMBER OF PARTY POSITIONS Position All (N-48) t North (N-19) % South (N-29) % 1 39.6 36.8 41.4 2 20.8 5.3 31.1 3 . 20.8 36.8 10.4 4 4.2 5.3 3.5 5 2.1 5.3 0.0 None/no answer 12.5 10.5 13.8 Total 100.0 100.0 100.2 365 northerners and southerners who had held from two to three positions was about the same. Southern co-chairmen, how ever, had a greater tendency to have held none or one, northerners to have held from three to four positions. The data on the longevity of party activity; prior membership in official party organizations, other than the state committee; and local club leadership offer some note worthy perspectives on the selection of state middle lead ership personnel, the performance potential of these per sonnel as members of the executive committee and as lead ers in their districts, and on organizational career pat terns. First, it is clear that a record of party service and of prior organizational experience as a member and/or leader greatly increases an individual's availability for selection as co-chairman. Eighty-eight percent (87.5) of 145 the co-chairmen had such a background. There is no fixed point of organizational entry. Nor is there a uni form pattern of career development in terms of changes of party position. But prior organizational experience is an 145 Extrapolating from the data presented by Pat terson, op. cit., pp. 344-346, it appears that less than 30 percent of Democratic county leaders in Oklahoma had held prior party office (excluding that of delegate to state or national conventions), Patterson concludes that "previous position in party officialdom...may reduce the individual's availability for county party leadership" (p. 344). See also Eldersveld, op. cit., pp 139-144. 366 Important, albeit not absolute, prerequisite for a congres sional co-chairmanship. Secondly, given the length of their party activity and their involvement in various organizational contexts and positions, the co-chairmen collectively represent a considerable store of political experience, which enhances their ability to contribute to the decision-making and com munications functions of the executive committee and to the performance of organizational tasks in their districts. The state chairman (or regional chairman), thus, may have some access to a valuable resource— experienced personnel who can serve as a reservoir of practical political knowl edge, as a means of obtaining intelligence about local po litical conditions and organizational affairs, as an instru ment of communication with local party organizations and individuals, as a source of skills for the performance of a variety of technical organizational and campaign services. The extent to which this potential input to the formulation and implementation of organizational and campaign decisions is utilized, by the state organization and/or other party elements, such as candidate-centered organizations, de pends, in large part, on the role orientations and behavior of both the state committee chairmen and the congressional co-chairmen. Thirdly, given the lack of an official organiza- 367 tional base below the county level, the capricious charac ter of the county committee selection procedure, and the hierarchical incoherence of the formal party structure, it is not surprising that the most important point of organi zational entry, the most important training ground for party leadership, and, perhaps, the most important gateway to organizational advancement appears to lie outside of the official organization— in the local clubs. Of the forty- two people who had held the memberships and offices listed in Table 35, 88.1 percent had been local club officials; 52.4 percent had been county committee members, and 35.7 percent had been county committee officers. As a gateway to advancement to middle leadership in the formal state or ganization, the local club may be to the California Demo cratic Party almost (although not fully) what precinct leadership is to the top stratum of local party leaders in Wayne County, Michigan. The formal party apparatus in California is, as 147 Wilson contends, "incomplete and fragmented. Below the county level, "there is no table of organization to **®Eldersveld, loc. cit. All of the top district- level and county-level leaders had been precinct leaders; 77.1 percent of congressional co-chairmen had been local club officials. 147 Wilson, Amateur Democrat, p. 104. 368 148 fill.1 * But diversity of career mobility rates and ad vancement patterns is not confined to relatively undefined structural situations. In the Wayne County Democratic party, where there is a relatively elaborate "table of or ganization," Eldersveld found that, while the bottom rung of the career ladder was clearly fixed— all of the district chairmen and district board members had been, at one time, precinct leaders— beyond this point, career development varied widely in the rates of upward mobility and in the 149 types of organizational experience. He found, more over, that, while all of the upper party echelon had passed 150 through the gateway of precinct delegate, not all had entered at this point * 51 percent of the upper echelon Democrats began their organizational career with precinct work in a regular precinct organization (14 percent as leaders, 37 percent as non-leaders); 44 percent began in auxiliary organizations (Young Democrats, women's groups, political clubs, and unions); and 5 percent began by running for public office.151 The "political club" was the arenma 14BIbld., p. 105. 149 Eldersveld, op. cit., p. 139. 150 Ibid., p. 143. "No one started at the top, at the district level or county level, nor did he arrive there if he failed to establish a grassroots connection in the precinct organization." 369 of initial organizational involvement for only 10 percent of the upper echelon of the local party. Precinct organi zations, not the local clubs, were the primary points of entry to and sole gateways to advancement through the regu- 152 lar structure of the local party in Wayne County. In California, the clubs are apparently the most significant entry and advancement avenues, at least for the middle echelon of the official state organization of the Democra tic Party. The prominence of the clubs as the connective sub structure of the California Democratic Party is also mani fested by the responses to a question designed to ascertain the co-chairmen's current (1971) affiliations with unoffi cial party organizations (Table 37). Only 14.6 percent of the sample held no memberships in unofficial auxiliaries, with the southerners being more likely to be non-members than the northerners. Thirty-five percent (35.4) of the sample belonged to two or more such organizations; 14.6 percent were members of from three to four (Table 38). Northern co-chairmen had a greater tendency to hold multi- 152 It is worth noting, once more, that the position of precinct delegate, or other organizational experience, was not a prerequisite of advancement to the top leadership group of the Democratic state organization in Michigan. Twenty-five percent of this group began their activity at the state level (Sawyer, op. cit., p. 42). 370 TABLE 37 CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN: MEMBERSHIPS IN UNOFFICIAL PARTY ORGANIZATIONS IN 1971 All North South (N-48) (N-19) (N-29) « « i Clubs Affiliated with CDC 41.7 68.4 24.1 Not affiliated with CDC 50.0 31.6 62.1 No indication of affi liation 6.3 10.5 3.5 Women's organizations 20.8 15.8 24.1 Other 18.8 26.3 13.8 None/no answer 14.6 10.5 17.2 TABLE 38 CONGRESSIONAL CO-iCHAIRMEN: NUMNER OF MEMBERSHIPS IN UNOFFICIAL PARTY ORGANIZATIONS in 1971 All North South (N-48) (N-19) (N-29) t « « None/no answer 14.6 10. 5 17.2 1 50.0 47.4 51.7 2 20.8 26.3 17.2 3 12.5 10.5 13.8 4 2.1 5.3 0.0 Total 100.0 100.0 99.9 371 pie memberships than southern co-chairmen (42.1 percent compared to 31 percent). Host of the co-chairmen (66.7 percent) did not hold offices in unofficial organizations in 1971 (Table 39), al though over three-fourths had, at one time, been local club 153 officials. Thirteen of the 16 people who held one or more office in volunteer organizations in 1971 did so in local clubs (27.1 percent of the sample). Other such or ganizations in which co-chairmen held offices included women's groups (3) and the statewide CDC (2). Twelve of the sixteen held one office; four held from two to three offices. Multiple responses create some distortions in the patterns of affiliation shown in Table 37. For example, while it appears that a greater proportion of southern co- chairmen than of northern co-chairmen belonged to women's organizations, actually only four southerners (13.8 percent of the southern co-chairmen) belonged to such groups. Three, however, belonged to two, while none of the north- 153 Of the thirty-seven people reporting that they had been local club officials (Table 35), 16.2 percent had not held such office since 1960; 21.6 percent had held lo cal club office for seven or more of the last eleven years (1960-1971); 10.8 percent for three to six of the last eleven years; 40.6 percent for fewer than three of the last eleven years. The time period was not ascertainable for four individuals. 372 TABLE 39 CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN: OFFICES IN UNOFFICIAL PARTY ORGANIZATIONS IN 1971 All (N-41 « ) North (N-19) % South (N-29) % Club affiliated with CDC Club not affiliated with CDC Other None/no answer 8.3 18.8 16.7 66.7 10.5 5.3 26. 3 73.7 6.9 27.6 10. 3 62.1 TABLE 40 CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN HOLDING ONE OR MORE CLUB MEMBERSHIPS: DISTRIBUTION BY TYPE OF CLUB AFFILIATION All No. « North NO. % South No. % CDC club only Non-CDC club only One CDC, one non-CDC club Club--no affiliation indicated 14 17 6 2 35.9 43.6 15.4 5.1 9 56.3 2 12.5 4 25.0 1 6.3 5 21.7 15 65.2 2 8.7 1 4.4 Totals* 39 100.0 16 100.1 23 100.0 Omits one response for a southern co-chairman who held two non-CDC memberships and one for a northern co-chairman who held two memberships in clubs with no affiliation indicated. 373 erners belong to more than one. Eight co-chairmen also belonged to more than one club. Of these, six belonged to one CDC-affiliated and one non-CDC club, one belonged to two non-CDC clubs, and one belonged to two clubs with no affiliation indicated. The distribution of memberships between clubs which are affiliated with CDC and clubs which are not is made somewhat clearer in Table 40. Thirty-nine co-chairmen (81.3 percent of the sample) belonged to one or more clubs. Of these, sixteen were northerners (84.2 percent of the northern sub-sample) and twenty-three were southerners (79.3 percent of the southern sub-sample). Table 40 shows the distribution of co-chairmen holding one or more club memberships by type of affiliation. Focusing on clubs alone and eliminating multiple responses within each cate gory sharpens one affiliational pattern which appears in Table 37 and blurs the other. In Table 40, within each re gional sub-sample, there is a greater percentage difference between CDC and non-CDC club memberships (+7 percent among northern club members and 4*5.5 percent among southern club members). Between the regional sub-samples, the result is variablei the percentage difference between northerners and southerners belonging to non-CDC clubs is greatly in creased (4-22.2 percent), but the percentage difference be tween northern and southern co-chairmen belonging to clubs 374 affiliated with CDC is reduced (-9.7 percent). The data contained in Tables 37 and 40 reaffirm the importance of local clubs as the grassroots foundation of the Democratic Party in California. Over 80 percent of the co-chairmen were club members. What is most striking about these data, however, is what they reveal about the status of the CDC as the repository of the club movement and as a political force within the regular Democratic state organi zation. Only 41.7 percent of the co-chairmen held member ships in CDC-affiliated clubs in 1971, in marked contrast to 78 percent of the Democratic national convention dele- 154 gates in 1960 and 74 percent in 1964. Among the elected government officials in the 1960 delegation, 57 percent said that they were "active" CDC members and 4 percent that they were CDC officers. Only 39 percent were inactive 155 members or nom-members. Among the 1960 delegates who were county central committee or state committee members, 154 Owens, Costantini, and Weschler, op. clt., p. 228. Hart, op. cit., p. 153, reported that 50 percent of the Democratic county chairmen, whom he surveyed in 1965, listed "California Democratic Clubs" as part of their po litical experience. Since this percentage is based on re sponses to an open-ended question, it may understate the proportion of club members (CDC or non-CDC) among county chairmen. Notwithstanding the ambiguity of his membership data, Hart appears to interpret them as evidence of the strength of the CDC. 155 Owens, Costantini, and Ifeschler, op. cit., p. 233. 375 51 percent were "active" members of CDC, and 17 percent were CDC officers, leaving only 32 percent who were inac- 1 *ifi tive or non-members. Aside from methodological considerations, there are two possible interpretations of the difference in the pro portion of CDC members between the co-chairmen and the con vention delegates. One is that some variation in selection procedures accounts for the differential. Such an inter pretation would rest on the assumptions that most Democra tic activists are CDC members and that the proportion of CDC and non-CDC club members among the pool of party lead ers and workers from whom the "representative" delegation of 1960 was chosen has not changed over the last decade. The selection of delegates by party leaders, who are com mitted to constructing a slate as representative of all 157 leadership elements in the party as possible would thus result in a greater representation of CDC members than the selection of congressional co-chairmen by district cau cuses composed of elective officeholders and nominees, their appointees, and county chairmen. There are two main reasons to doubt this explana- 156Ibid. 157 On the cross-sectional character of the 1960 delegation, see Costantini, "Intraparty Attitude Conflict," pp. 956-960. 371 tion. One it that, while it has always been impossible to obtain an accurate count of CDC members, almost every ob server of California politics would agree that the member- 158 ship has fallen off sharply since 1965. The other is the relatively high percentage of CDC members among the elected government officials and state committee members in the 1960 delegation, suggesting that the state committee district caucuses in the early 1960,s also contained a similarly high proportion of CDC members. The other explanation is that the percentage dif ferential in the proportion of CDC members between the national convention delegations and the congressional co- chairmen reflects the precipitous decline of the CDC as the umbrella organization for local clubs. The data on the co- chairmen's club memberships are suggestive rather than de finitive, but two aspects of the evidence do seem to point to the shrinking of the CDC umbrella. One is that, while over 80 percent of the co-chairmen did belong to clubs in 1971, more (47,9 percent of the sample) belong to non-CDC 158 See, for example, James Phelan, "A Democratic Diaster Area,” The Reporter (November 2, 1967), p. 19; David 6. Farrally, "Trouble in the Clubs,” Reason, 2 (Fell, 1966), pp. 15-16, 24; Owens, Costantini, and weschler, op. cit., p. 212. The peak estimates for CDC members have ranged between 50,000 and 70,000. Since the onset #f CDC'a decline, estimates have ranged between about 10,000 and about 30,000. 377 tCQ clubs than to CDC clubs (41.7 percent of the sample). If the responses of those co-chairmen with memberships in one CDC club and one non-CDC club are assigned to the ap propriate affilational categories (and other multiple re sponses are omitted), the result is a total of 45 member ships. Of these, a majority (51.1 percent) are non-CDC) 44.4 percent are CDC and 4.4 percent have no indication of affiliation. The second aspect of the evidence pointing to a diminishing role for the CDC is the sharp regional differ ence in the patterns of affiliation with CDC and non-CDC clubs. Twenty of the 45 memberships mentioned above were held by northerners. Of these, 65 percent were in CDC- affiliated clubs; 30 percent were in non-CDC clubs; and 5 percent were in clubs for which no affiliation was as certainable. The affiliational distribution is reversed in southern California. Of the 25 southern memberships, 28 percent were in CDC clubs; 68 percent were in non-CDC clubs; and 4 percent were in clubs for which no affiliation was indicated. These differences suggest that the dissolution of the CDC has been greatest in southern California— that 159 These percentages omit one response for a south ern co-chairman who held memberships in two non-CDC clubs and one for a northern co-chairmen who held two memberships in clubs without indicating affiliation. 378 is, in the area that was once its preeminent stronghold.1 * 60 In spite of the tensions created by differences in "political style" and in degrees of liberalism between the CDC and the official state organization, dominated by the "government party," there was apparently considerable overlap and, consequently, informal integration between them in the first half of the 1960's. The co-chairmen data suggest that this overlap has diminished. In south ern California, especially, the CDC's hold on club affili ations has dwindled, and the CDC has become an element increasingly isolated from the rest of the party structure. The local clubs remain the basic organizational units ef the Democratic Party in California. Membership and leadership in them constitute an important gateway to positions in the middle leadership stratum of the official state organization. The clubs are part of the organiza tional experience of over 80 percent of the co-chairmen. But most of this experience is no longer in CDC-affiliated clubs, especially in southern California. One important index of experience is, of course, the length and types of the co-chairmen's state organiza tional memberships. Given the high turnover rate of state committee and executive conmittee members from one two- 160Wilson, Amateur Democrat, pp. 121-125. 379 year term to the next, it was anticipated that a large number of co-chairmen might not have been holdovers from the immediately preceding committee but might have bfeen members at some time in the past. Consequently, the items used to ascertain the length of membership were designed to accommodate non-continuous service. As has been indicated in chapter IV, the member ship of the state central committee has been generally characterised by instability, but turnover rates have varied widely— from about 80 percent to about 45 percent. Co-chairmen appear to be somewhat move likely than state committee members as a whole to have had prior service on the committee. A majority (54.2 percent) had been members before their current term (Table 41); 27.1 percent had been members for four years or less; 27.1 percent had been members for five years or more. Six respondents had from ten to fifteen years of membership. Northern co-chairmen were more likely than southern co-chairman to have served on the state committee before 1970 but were no more likely to hfcve had five or more years of membership. A higher proportion of southerners had from five to nine years of membership, but a higher proportion of northerners had ten or more years. Almost two-thirds of the co-chairmen (64.4 percent had never served on any subcommittee of the state central 380 TABLE 41 CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN; PRIOR MEMBERSHIP ON THE STATE CENTRAL COMMITTEE All North South (N-48) (N-19) (N-29) % « t No indication of member ship before 1970 45.8 42.1 48.3 Served 4 years or less 27.1 31.6 24.1 Served 5-9 years 14.6 10.5 17.2 Served 10-15 years 12.5 15.8 10.4 Total 100.0 100.0 100.0 TABLE 42 CONGRESSIONAL CO-CHAIRMEN: PRIOR MEMBERSHIP ON THE EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE All North South (N-48) (N-19) (N-29) * « % No Indication of member- ship before 1970 72.9 63.2 79.3 Served 4 years or less 22.9 26.3 20.7 Served 5#8 years 42. 10.5 0.0 Total 100.0 100.0 100.0 361 committee.Of the seventeen respondents (35.4 percent of the sample) who had exposure to subeommittee work, eleven (64.7 percent) had served or by-laws or party re form, and five (29.4 percent) had served on resolutions or credentials. The relatively small proportion of co-chairmen who have participated in subcommittee work is probably a re flection of a combination of high turnover rates and the role of subcommittees in the state committee structure. Although a subcommittee has occasionally been an arena of significant activity, as the by-laws committee was in the early 1960's, subcommittees are generally pro-forma af» fairs which seldom meet, outside of the biennial state committee meeting, and seldom conduct business of any con sequence when they do hold interim meetings. It seems ironic that, of all the categories of political experience measured in the survey, the co-chair men, as group, have had the least experience in serving on the executive committee. As was noted in the general dis cussion of the executive committee membership, the turn over rate in the first half of the 1960's was 60 percent 1€*Cf. Sawyer, op. clt., pp. 95-102. Sawyer cites a great proliferation of subcommittees in the Michigan Democratic state central committee as an outgrowth of a deliberate effort on the part of party leaders to expand opportunities for participation. 382 and over. The responses to the survey indicate that turn* over among co-chairmen is even higher than that for the committee membership as a whole. Seventy-three percent (73.9) of the sample had not served on the committee be fore their current term (Table 42). Northern co-chairmen were much more likely than southern co-chairmen to have had more than one term on the executive committee, partly because the northern sample included county chairmen who had held prior membership on the executive committee by 162 virtue of their county committee office. Hart's data on county chairmen are not presented in a manner that provides a basis for a precise compari son of tenure periods between county chairmen and co-chair men. It is apparent, however, that county chairmen serve for longer periods of time than co-chairmen and, conse quently, have had more experience on the executive commit tee. Sixty-two percent of the Democratic county chairmen were in their first term as compared to 72.9 percent of 162 One northerner was serving his first term as county chairman concurrently with his first term as co- chairman. Two of the seven northerners with prior service on the committee had been county chairmen before 1970. Without these former county chairmen, the proportion of northern co-chairmen with prior membership on the commit tee would still be higher than that of southern co-chair- mem 26,3 percent as compared to 20.7 percent of the southerners, none of whom had been county chairmen. 383 the co-chairmen.163 Seventy-six percent (76.1) of the county chairmen had served for three years or less; 23.5 percent had served for four years or more.16* The turnover among members of the "State Central Committee leadership group" in Michigan was variable over a ten year period, with the proportion of holdovers rang ing from 27.7 percent to 52.1 percent.*-®5 With one ex ception, however, the trend from 1949 to 1959 was toward increasing membership stability. Only in 1949 and in 1953 did the turnover rate approximate that among congressional co-chairmen in California.1®6 Conclusion In the absence of data on membership stability in state committees and their executive boards in other states, there is no way of ascertaining if the turnover among Democratic state committee and executive committee members in California stands as an exception to a general 163 Hart, op. cit., p. 156, n. 1. 1€*Ibid., p. 153. Cf. Owens, Costantini, and Weschler, op. cit., pp. 227-228. Forth-seven percent of the 1960 delegates and 56 percent of the L964 delegates had served on previous delegations. *-®5Sawyer, op. cit., p. 64. 1M Ibid. 384 pattern. The limited information available in this study and in Sawyer's suggests that turnover rates are variable. Sawyer related the increasing proportion of holdovers among Michigan state central committee members to increas ing stability among local Democratic organizations, which "exercise a controlling influence" in the congressional district caucuses that elect them.167 if this explanation is valid, it suggests that, all other things being equal, the turnover rate among state organizational members in California, while variable, is likely to be higher gen erally than that in states where such members are selected by established organizational substructures. In other words, a relatively high degree of instability of state and executive committee members is a chronic condition for at least two reasons. One is that the state organization is not based upon or integrated with an official substruc ture at the local level. The other is the fluidity of the candidate-centered organizational nuclei, which constitute the source of state committee appointees.166 167 Sawyer, op. cit., p. 64. 168 The concept of a candidate-centered organiza tional nucleus is borrowed from Joseph A. Schlesinger, "Political Party Organization," in James G* March (ed.), Handbook of Organizations (Chicago: Rand McNally k Com pany, 1965) , pp. 764-797. Schlesinger regards the basic 385 State committee appointments have some value, at least in terms of prestige and of access to one channel of intra-party communication. Consequently, they are useful to nominees and incumbent officeholders, as rewards or incentives, which may be bestowed among a changing pool of personal supporters and potential supporters. Since the state committee, as a collective entity apart from its leaders, has little ability either to hurt or to help them, candidates are not compelled to give much considera tion to the qualifications of prospective appointees (in terms of political experience, skills, or other criteria relevant to competence in the performance of organization al tasks) or even to the appointees' demonstrated devotion to the candidates' own interest. Even if a candidate's own following has a relatively stable inner core, there is probably no felt need to confine appointments (and reap- pointments) to its members. Given the impotence of the state committee, as a collectivity, candidates are free to circulate appointments among core supporters and/or occa sional, potential, or ftinge supporters. The turnover among co-chairmen is, in pert, a reflection of membership instability in the state commit- unit of any party organization to be "the collective ef fort devbted to the capture of a single public office" (p. 774). 386 tee district caucuses that select them. But the selection of a co-chairman results from a more volatile mix of more variables in a more complex setting. The choice of any one state committee appointee reflects the political needs and perspectives of only one nominee. To the extent that the wishes of nominees carry weight in the district cau cuses, the choice of a co-chairman grows out of the inter acting preferences of several nominees. The selection of a co-chairman may receive more attention than that of a state committee appointee, partly because the executive committee is a more important and prestigious body than the state committee and partly be cause the co-chairmanship represents an opportunity to exercise some organizational leadership at the local level. Consequently, there is probably more intense competition for .these positions. High circulation among co-chairmen appears to be inevitable, however, because, from one state committee meeting to the next, there is a changing align ment of interests and distribution of influence among the nominees, who select the other members of the district caucuses. In some cases, moreover, the range of variables affecting the selection of co-chairmen must be extended to include the independent influence of the political needs and perspectives of the appointed members of the district 387 caucuses. As the state chairmanship election of 1966 demonstrated, the actions of appointees are not always con trolled by those who appoint them. The data on the social and political backgrounds of the co-chairmen and personal observation of the per formance of some of them suggest that they are capable of comprehending most of the business that comes before the executive committee; of making valuable inputs of knowl edge, information, and ideas to its deliberations; and, depending on their particular role orientations and skills, of performing a variety of organizational and campaign tasks in their districts. Longer tenure would strengthen these capabilities. If co-chairmen served for longer periods of time, for example, it might enhance their con tribution to the formulation and implementation of long- range programs in areas such as organizational develop ment, voter registration, and fund-raising. Whether soch a potential were fully exploited, however, would depend, in large part, on the initiative of the state committee chairmen. Most importantly, perhaps to the extent that longer tenure might breed familiarity with state organiza tional affairs, it might strengthen the executive commit tee as a source of collective control over the behavior of state committee officers and staff members. Given the present method by which co-chairmen are 388 selected, there Is little chance that turnover will de cline to less than sixty or fifty percent from one term to another. If Sawyer's explanation of declining turnover among Michigan state committee members is taken as a hy pothesis, then one precondition of greater membership stability in the executive committee and in the state com mittee would be the selection of the personnel of the state committee by established local organizations at, for example, the assembly district level. Less turnover among state committee members and, ultimately, among executive board members, then might be one result of increasing or ganizational coherence and stability at the local level. The best chance for these developing lies in the hands of the state legislature, which can create the legal founda tions for the establishment of local organizational sub structures and for integration between local and state or ganizational layers. Even if such an organizational framework were etched in law, however, it would represent only an oppor tunity for, not a guarantee of, organizational integraion and personnel stability in practice. The table of organi zation may remain unfilled or its contents may remain fluid because of the influence of a multitude of political and non-political environmental variables which affect party organizations, such as changes in the social charac- 389 teristics of the electorate and, consequently, of politi cal activists; changes in politically relevant norms and expectations; the development of new campaign methods and, consequently, the emergence of new and often non-party sources of campaign skills; and the emergence of non-party avenues and styles of political participation.109 What ever the mold in which party organizations are cast, by law or political history, a diversity of structural and substructural types will emerge over time because of the influence of diverse environments. Thus, as Eldersveld found, even within the confines of the relatively small geographical area of Wayne County, Michigan, as party structures and their constituent elements interact with their particular immediate environments, they develop "particularized political norms, ideological perspectives, operational codes, and patterns of organizational relation ships.170 ^^Sorauf's Party Politics in America, pp. 59-134, 422-434, provides one of the most comprehensive discussions of environmental changes and their impact on party organi zation in America. See Also the analysis presented iVir* throughout the work by Leon D. Epstein, Political Parties in Western Democracies (New York; Frederick A. Praeger, Publishers, 1967. 170Eldersveld, op. ejt., p. 533, CHAPTER VI THE EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE: POWERS AND FUNCTIONS The discussion of the characteristics of the con gressional district co-chairmen in the preceding chapter indicates that these executive committee members are quite capable of understanding and talcing part in the business of the executive committee. Anyone who compares the gen erally high quality of the committee's personnel with the collective activities of the committee might well conclude that the co-chairmen's potential contribution to collec tive decision-making is not fully exploited by the require ments of fulfilling either the specifically delegated powers and duties of the committee or those functions of the committee which go beyond its sphere of delegated ac tivities. Specifically Delegated Powers and Duties The "By-laws" specifically delegate three powers to the executive committee, when the state committee is not in session. First, the executive committee is authorized to fill vacancies in the membership of the state central 390 391 committee, where allowed by law, and in the offices of the state central committee.^ If a vacancy occurs in the membership of the state convention for the position of United States senator, representative in Congress, or state constitutional officer, the executive committee may appoint someone to fill the position.2 Few such appointments are available to the committee since the abolition of cross filing. The committee presently makes appointments to fill convention positions left vacant when a delegate resigns, dies, or is otherwise disqualified for membership. The executive committee's role in filling vacancies in its own ranks is actually one of perfunctorally ratify ing the choice of a caucus of members in the district in volved. At the beginning of almost every meeting, the secretary reads a list of resignations and replacements and moves their acceptance by the committee. The motion almost always passes without discussion. The executive committee minutes record only one instance of an objection raised against the ratification of replacements by the commit tee. ^ 1"By-laws" (1965), secs. 9 and 12. Elections Code (1966) , secs. 8261, 8262 (renum bered 8514). 3Irving Glasband protested the election of co- chairmen in the twenty-second congressional district. The committee, without discussing the matter, voted to confirm the action of the district caucus. (Minutes of Executive 392 The committee's efforts to fill vacancies in state committee offices are often distinguished by unanimity, which indicates that the choice is made elsewhere add that the executive committee action constitutes no more than formal ratification of that choice. This was the case in 1959, when the committee elected William Munnell to succeed chairman William Rosenthal, who had resigned to accept a judicial appointment. Unanimity also graced the election of Munnell's successor, Eugene Wyman, and Wyman's succes- WC, Carmen Warshaw. Munnell, Wyman, and Warshaw were, in fact, selected by the dominant coalition of Democratic leaders in southern California. The executive committee has also filled vacancies in party posts which are not strictly adjuncts of the state central committee. When, for example, John Anson Ford resigned from his national committee post in October, 195 3, the executive committee elected Paul Ziffren to fill Ford's place. In this case, there appears to have been a real contest. The final vote was forty-eight for Ziffren to tweityeseven for Thomas Carrell, who was a Kefauver sup porter. * Committee Meeting, December 8, 1958). ^Ronald E. Chinn, "Democratic Party Politics in California, 1920-1956" (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Department of Political Science, University of California, Berkeley, 1958), p. 164. 393 The committee was again required to fill a national committee vacancy in 1965, when Elizabeth Gatov resigned. Governor Brown endorsed the selection of northern women's division chairman, Ann Alanson, to replace Mrs. Gatov as national committeewoman* A flurry of opposition to this choice was created by Unruh's allies, principally the southern chairman, Carmen Warshaw, and the Democratic con gressmen from California.5 Their efforts were half-hearted however, and were confined to calling for a postponement of the national committee election to a subsequent meeting.6 The main reason for focusing on postponement rather theui on opposition to Mrs. Alanson1s candidacy per se again illuminates the way in which regional bifurcation shppes i intra-party struggles. The business of electing Mrs. Gatov's replacement had been hurridly placed on the execu tive coaimittee's agenda only six days before the committee was scheduled to meet in Sacramento.? Since the announce ment of this special business was made by letter, however, the "By-laws" required ten days prior notice.** This was the technical basis of complaints that the northern Cali 5Interview with Carmen Warshaw, August 31, 1970j Los Angeles Herald Examiner, March 7, 1965. 6Los Angeles Herald Examiner, March 7, 1965. 7Long Beach Press-Telegram, March 5, 1965. ®"By-laws" (1965), sec. 21. 394 fornians were illegitimately attempting "to rush through" g a successor to Mrs. Gatov. The Sacramento location of the meeting would virtually guarantee the northern section a majority of votes. Postponement of the election to the next meeting of the executive committee would have meant that the national committee election would have been held in southern California. While the schismatic propensities of the southern section gave Unruh's forces no assurance of overriding the northern sections choice, especially in the face of Governor Brown's endorsement of Mrs. Alanson the northerners might have had to make an extraordinary effort to insure the presence of a sufficient number of northern county chairmen to enforce their decision. The minutes for the Sacramento meeting were missing from the state committee's files, but newspaper accounts of the meeting indicate that there was an exceptionally high attendance of at least 114 members. In spite of a formal request for postponement by California's Democratic con gressional delegation, the motion to postpone lost by a vote of 101 to 13. Mrs. Alanson was then elected unani mously.^® The prevailing pattern of unanimity in executive 9Los Angeles Times# March 3, 1965. 10Los Angeles Herald Examiner, March 7, 1965. 395 committee elections of party officials should not obscure the importance of these elections nor the role of individ ual members in the decision process. With one exception in the period covered by this study, the choice of the ex ecutive committee has predetermined the decision made at the subsequent state committee meeting. Moreover, person al observation indicates that unanimity at the time of the executive committee meeting results from a prior process of communication and consultation, through which votes are solicited and secured. By the time the election meeting is held, co-chairmen and other executive committee members have been contacted and have made their in-put to the se lection process— by voicing their objections to the choices made by top party leaders, by offering alternatives and at tempting to mobilize support for them, by being persuaded to change their minds, and by committing their votes. Even when an individual member automatically acquiesces in a choice, this is the ultimate result of his prior decision to align himself with a party leader or coalition of lead ers. The second power specifically delegated to the ex ecutive committee is that of removing appointive members of the state central committee for "good cause" as defined in the Elections Code.1* The Code provision permits the re ^"By-laws" (1965), sec. 11; Elections Code (1964) , 396 moval of any appointive member: who during his term of membership affiliates with or registers as a member of another party, pub- lically advocates that the voters should not vote for the nominee of the party for any office, or who gives support to or avows a preference for a candidate of another party or candidate who is opposed to a candidate nominated by the party which that member represents. 2 The turnover in party leadership in the early 1950's provoked some embarrassing defections among promin ent party members. In 1950, John P. McEnery, a member of the Santa Clara county committee and vice-chairman of the state committee in 1948, denounced the Democratic guberna torial candidate, James Roosevelt, and; urged Earl Warren's election.^3 In 1954, David Foutz, vice-chairman of the Kefauver delegation, headed a group of "Independent Demo crats" working for the reelection of Goodwin Knight.1* In spite of the embarrassment that the Democratic party had suffered from such defections, there is no evidence that the executive committee's has ever envoked the elaborate procedure for removal of state committee members, which sec. 8260 (renumbered 8667). 12Elactions Code (1964), sec. 8260. 13Dean R. Cresap, Party Politics in the Golden State (Los Angeles: Haynes foundation, 1954), p. 111. **Chinn, loc. cit. 397 is stipulated in the "By-laws. The third power specifically delegated to the ex ecutive committee is that of repealing or amending the "By laws. It cannot make any amendment unless the proposed change has been introduced at a meeting held at least one 15The "By-laws" (sec. 11) provide that a state com mittee member may be removed in the following manner: (a) At least two members of the Executive Commit tee must sign and submit to the Secretary a written Statement of Charges containing the rounds for removal; (b) The Secretary, upon receipt of the Statement of Charges, must send to the accused member by certified or registered mail a copy of the Statement of Charges and a letter stating that the accused member may either resign or have a hearing by way of motion for removal at the next regular meeting of the Executive Commit tee; (c) Where the accused members does not resign, then the Secretary shall send a copy of the Statement of Charges to all members of the Ex ecutive Coranittee along with the notice for the next regular meeting of the Executive Com mittee; and (d) Upon motion for removal made by one of the sig natories to the Statement of Charges at the next regular meeting...and by positive action on this motion of the Executive Committee by two-thirds...vote of all members present and voting. Neither Foutz nor McEnery could have been removed front their respective county committees for supporting op position candidates because there was no provision permit ting such action in the law. Such a provision was added to the Code in 1963 (Cal. Stats. 1963, sec. 1986). 16-By-laws" (1965), sec. 29. 398 month before the meeting at which it is to be voted on. Moreover, a copy of the amendment must be sent along with the meeting notice to each member of the executive commit* tee at least ten days in advance of the time set for the vote.^7 From 1961 to 1962, the reports of the by-laws com mittee occupied a large portion of the executive commit tee's time. In December, 1960, State Chairman Roger Kent appointed Marvin Molen of Los Angeles as chairman of a committee on by-laws revision. Part of the impetus for the creation of this committee was Steve Smith's attempt to amend the "By-laws" at the previous state central commit tee meeting.The committee consisted of six people— three appointed by Kent and three by William Munnell. The committee held several meetings in northern and southern Calif6mia and presented its proposals to the ex ecutive committee, which discussed them at length and voted on them in a series of meetings. Throughout these meetings the remarks and suggestions of many executive committee members revealed a high degree of familiarity with the past performance and operational problems of the state committee and of other party entities. They also revealed a sophist 17Ibid. ^Interview with Martin Huff, February 9, 1961 399 ticated awareness of how the details of the state commit tee's rules related to local organizational conditions.19 The changes approved by the executive committee were later ratified by the state central committee. A central objective of these proceedings was to amend and redodify the "By-laws" in order to bring into closer con formity with the revised Elections Code. F o r the first time, the various sections of the state committee's rules indicated corresponding sections of the Elections Code, which were appended to each copy of the "By-laws." Functions The executive committee's functions go beyond its specifically delegated powers. It comes closer than any other collective entity in the legal structure at the state level to performing the functions which are formally at tributed to the state central committee. The executive committee participates in the conduct of party affairs in several ways t it furnishes a medium of communication among ^Personal observation at meetings from March through September, 1961. 20 Remarks by Marvin Holen, Executive Cosnnittee Meeting, September 23, 1961. The revised "By-laws" con tained one section (31), which expired on July 31, 1962, providing for the filling of vacancies in congressional district co-chairmanships caused by reapportionment. 400 party people in various parts of this large state; it speaks officially, in the name of the Democratic party, on both state and national issues; it acts as a check on the actions of state committee officers, especially in the area of finance; and it has taken part in primary and special elections through quasi-endorsements and financial assistance. Communication^ ^ Reports by party leaders at executive committee meetings constitute a useful channel of intra-party com munication. Party officials and notables use their execu tive committee presentations to transmit a variety of in formation to members and, through them, to local districts and to generate support for particular programs. The r state chairman and the national committeemen have regular ly disseminated news of party affairs at the national level, major fundraising programs, official visitors to the state, speaking schedules, advertising facilities, and the availability of patronage appointments and the pro cedures to be followed in making appointments. As the national convention approaches, executive committee mem- ^The information for this section was gathered by personal observation and from a survey of executive com mittee minutes for the years, 1959-1966. 401 bers have received information concerning convention ar* rangements, including such matters as the allocation of tickets and rules governing parades and demonstrations. Occasionally, officials of the Democratic national commit tee have appeared at executive committee meetings to report on national committee programs. Executive committee meetings also give members the opportunity to learn about the activities of other Demo cratic organizations through the reports of the presidents of the California Democratic Council (CDC) and the Cali fornia Federation of Young Democrats (CFYD). The latter, in turn, are given the opportunity to publicize their plans, programs, and special events. The reports of the county chairmen and congressional co-chairmen pertain to party ac tivities in their districts. They cover such matters as the opening and maintaining of party headquarters, regis tration and voter turnout drives, dund-raising activities, and special elections. Those in charge of special pro jects, such as "Dollars for Democrats," report on their progress to the executive committee and attempt to bolster support among the members. State legislators have oc casionally appeared at executive committee meetings to re port on the progress of particular bills or to speak about the Democratic legislative program in general. Of particular interest have been the state commit- 402 tee treasurers' reports— especially those issuing from the southern section. The reasons for this interest will be discussed below in the section on finance. Through these peports, executive committee members learn of party activities at the local, state and national levels. They receive information about the availability of political resources. These resources are varied— official pictures of party notables; newsletters, brochures, and tabloids; reprints of newspaper articles; handbooks which contain compilations of election statistics, background material on issues, voting records, suggestions for regis tration drives, ways of raising money, etc. However pro saic such items may seem, they do stimulate considerable interest and many questions— especially from members foom less populated areas who have little contact with state or national party leaders. Informal contacts among members at executive com mittee meetings furnish aa additional medium for the ex change of information, ideas, and gossip. They provide an opportunity for members to find out what is going on in other parts of the state and to add ideas for registration drives, fund-raising events, get-out-the-vote campaigns, and other projects to their fund of political lore. 403 Public Policy and Publicity— Resolutions The executive committee acts frequently as "the official spokesman for the Democratic Party" in matters of public policy.22 its public policy function, however, is carried out in a casual, ad hoc manner. The "By-laws" con tain no procedure for a systematic sifting of public issues to ascertain those most appropriate for executive commit tee action, and no such procedure has been institutional ized by the practices of the executive committee or of its resolutions committee. The "By-laws" provide only that resolutions must be received at the appropriate regional state committee head quarters eight days before an executive committee meeting and that copies of resolutions be sent to all members of 2 1 the resolutions committee before the meeting. J There is no requirement that the resolutions committee meet to give prior consideration to proposals to be placed before the executive committee. Resolutions may also be presented from the floor, if they are signed by twenty members of the executive committee or receive the unanimous consent of those members of the resolutions committee present at the meeting. Any resolution must be signed by the author and 2^”By-laws" (1965)g sec. 2. 23Ibid.. sec. 25. 404 sponsored by a member of the state central committee.24 Although most resolutions bear the signature of the chairman of the resolutions committee, their initial source is usually a public official.Occasionally, however, an individual member has a specific policy interest for which he seeks an executive committee endorsement. Consequently, some of the executive committee1s resolutions treat topics which command a limited audience. On the other hand, the executive committee has plunged into matters which are highly controversial and in terest relatively broad segments of the public. Its stands on newsworthy subjects have often received publicity in the metropolitan press. On at least one occasion, a well- known columnist was admitted to an otherwise closed meeting in order to cover the announcement of the executive commit tee's position on a controversial topic. This occurred when Roger Kent, after ascertaining that the Defense De partment would welcome an expression of support, asked the _ committee to commend Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara 24Ibid. 25Interview with Carmen Warshaw, August 31, 1970. 2f i Thus, for example, on the request of Helen Pedo- tti, Santa Barbara county chairman and a trustee of the Atascadero State Hospital, the committee passed two reso lutions, one urging an increase in the budget for the Atas cadero State Hospital, and the other having to do with the salaries of treatment personnel in mental hospitals (Min utes of Executive Committee Meeting, January 10-11, 1960). 405 for "his stand on keeping military men out of politics."37 Squire Behrens of the San Francisco Chronicle was admitted to the meeting for the purpose of witnessing the resolu tion. The executive committee's resolutions cover a wide variety of subjects.28 Most common are those commending Democratic elective officials in California and Washington. Surprisingly rare are resolutions dealing with foreign af fairs. A survey of evidence available in the form of min utes, copies of proposed resolutions, and newspaper arti cles indicates that, in the period from 1959 to 1966, the committee addressed this subject only four times. It pas sed resolutions condemning the Soviet Union for breaking off negotiations at Geneva and for their unilateral resump tion of nuclear testing, praising President Kennedy's ef forts to secure "peace through strengbh," endorsing the fallout shelter program, and commending President Johnson's "just and honorable" policies in Vietnam and "throughout the world."28 27Personal observation at meeting, September 23, 1961. 2^Unless there is a specific reason for doing so, the specific reference for each resolution will not be cited. 2 9 The committee also passed a resolution urging congressional Republicans to adopt "a responsible policy of bipartisanship in foreign affairs" (Minutes of Executive Committee Meeting, March 16, 1963). 406 Focusing its attention on domestic issues, the ex ecutive committee has frequently expressed an interest in civil liberties and civil rights. It has endorsed, on be half of the state committee, home rule for the District of Columbia and suffrage for its residents. Governor Brown's Fair Employment practices program, state legislation bann ing discrimination in public accommodations and in public- ally assisted bousing, support of a strong civil rights i platform plank by the California delegation to the 1960 Democratic national convention, President Johnson's civil rights program, and the Justice Department's efforts to protect the rights of citizens involved in civil rights strife in Alabama. The executive committee urged Cali fornia's delegates to the 1964 Democratic national conven tion to support the seating of the Mississippi "Freedom Delegation" and requested California's congressional dele gation to help unseat Mississippi's incumbent congressmen on the grounds that black people had been prevented from voting in that state. From 1963 through 1964, the committ tee exhibited an exceptional preoccupation with the Rumford Act and efforts to nullify it by means of a ballot initia tive. Within one year it passed four resolutions on this subject. Mo other single topic, with the possible excep tion of medicare, has received such concentrated attention from the committee. 407 The committee has taken stands on a variety of economic issues. It voiced the opposition of the state central committee to "any so-called right to work bills" and supported Governor Brown's tax and minimum wage pro grams, an oil severance tax bill, repeal of section 14B of the Taft-Hartly Act, President Kennedy's trade bill, re enactment of the Defense Production Act of 1950, the Gover nor's water bond proposals, President Kennedy's effort to accelerate rapid transit development, a subsidy to equalize the competitive position of west coast shipbuilders with that of east coast shipbuilders, state regulation of in stallment buying, and President Johnson's proposal to re peal the excise tax. The committee has also supported social welfare programs designed to help the elderly, the mentally ill, the young, and the poor. Its approval of medicare was ex pressed on at least four occasions. In addition, the com mittee specifically supported legislation to establish pre school education for disadvantaged children, endorsed President Kennedy's program to establish community centers for the treatment of mental illness and his aid-to-educa- tion bills, backed the establishment of a national youth conservation corps, called for the renewal of the Juvenile Delinquency and Youth Offenses Act, praised the efforts of federal agencies to develop anti-poverty programs in Los 408 Angeles, and urged Democratic women to participate in Project Headstart. The discussion above does not provide an exhaustive account of the executive committee's pronouncements on do mestic issues. The committee's concern with substantive domestic policy questions has ranged widely and has in cluded, in addition to the areas already mentioned, gum control, support of fine arts, gubernatorial appointments, women's rights, state constitutional revision, national im migration policy, opposition to efforts to circumscribe the appelate jurisdiction of the United States Supreme Court, and expansion of recreation facilities. At the center of the committee's policy interests, however, are civil rights and economic, and social welfare issues. The emphasis on these issues and the direction of the ocmmitaee's positions on them parallel the content of the party's platform, as described in Chapter 111, and reflect the liberalism which is characteristic of Democra tic party leaders. The committee's resolutions have gen erally favored a strong role for the federal government in solving social problems, the interests of working class or lower income people, and policies benefiting racial minor ities . The committee's pronouncements on issues almost always support the positions of Democratic officeholders 409 in Sacramento and Washington. Occasionally, however, the committee has found itself in a bind between its support of an officeholder's program and intra-party discord on a specific issue. In March, 1960, for example, the committee voted to condemn "irresponsible attacks" on Governor Brown, which had been evoked by his opposition to capital punish ment. The committee reaffirmed its approval of the Gover nor's leadership and expressed "admiration for his courage and integrity in a period of great trial."30 However, it took no position on the issue of capital punishment itself. In addition to its concern with substantive ques tions in foreign and domestic policy, the executive com mittee has dealt with legislative matters affecting the electoral process and political parties. One of these is reapportionment. Early in 1960, for example, it passed a resolution expressiong "strong opposition" to a state sen ate reapportionment initiative. The committee further moved to alert CDC council chairmen and club presidents to the ^dangers" of the initiative and to inform them of the names of the various individuals who spoke against it at the executive committee meeting. In 1965, however, the committee's action on court-ordered reapportionment of the 30 Minutes of Executive Committee Meeting, March 19 20, 1960. 410 senate was confined to "expressing faith" in the ability of the (Democratic) legislature to enact an equitable reappor- tionment. The committee's resolutions have also dealt with the electoral process in terms of measures that would in crease voter turnout and make more offices partisan. The committee, for example, has supported legislation to facil itate registration, to allow candidates for county offices to designate their party affiliation on the ballot, and to make it a misdemeanor to challenge voters fraudulently. Moreover, it has urged the creation of a "Blue Ribbon Com mission" to study the election laws and to propose ways of combining elections and shortening the ballot.31 in view of the Democrats' advantage among party identifiers in California and the concentration of Democratic identifiers among low turnout groups,^2 it is not surprising that Demo- 31The number of resolutions on these subjects is not an accurate indicator of the frequency with which the executive committee has been concerned with registration and turnout. Discussions of these matters have often grown out of reports on problems and accomplishments in local areas and on changes in procedures which may affect elec toral behavior. Such reports and discussions have some times become highly technical, as was the case when mem bers considered, at some length, the effects of different kinds of voting machines on turnout and on partisan voting patterns (Minutes of Executive Committee Meeting, May 25, 1963). 12 John R. Owens, Edmond Coatantini, and Louis F. Whschler, California Politics and Parties (Londoni Mac Millan Company, 1970). p. 67. 411 cratlc party officials want to facilitate registration among age-eligible citizens, increase turnout among those registered, and make local elective offices partisan.33 While the executive committee has exhibited a con tinuous interest in reform of the Elections Code provisions regulating party structure and activity, its interest has been expressed largely through the establishment of sub committees to study the Code and make recommendations rather than through resolutions. Occasionally, however, the committee has reacted officially to legislative propo sals dealing with party organization. In March, 1961, for example, it announced its op position to Assembly Bill 712, which would have permitted legislators to make appointments to local county commit tees, The discussion of this measure featured echoes of the north-south, county committee-saate cmmmittee, incum bent legislator-volunteer activist divisions that have so often plagued internal relations in the party. The commit tee's opposition to Assembly Bill 712 was announced in the face of the approval of the measure by a Democratic legis- 33Ibid., pp. 133-143, for a discussion of some of the reasons. Democrats are aware, however, that members of their party have a significantly higher desertion rate than Republicans, so that a high turnout of age-eligible voters may not necessarily rebound to the party's advan tage. Party professionals have become more selective in allocating resources among Democratic areas of high and low partisan loyalty. 412 34 lature. In May, 1963, the executive committee opposed Assembly Bill 2466, which would have required the state committee to hold its annual meeting in southern California in odd-nflmbered years. It is noteworthy that the meeting at which the resolution opposing this bill was passed was held in Sacramento. While the minutes for this meeting contain no breakdown of the vote, the roll indicates that northern Californians were present in far greater numbers than southern Californians and that the meeting was atten- ded by an unusually large number of northern county chair- 35 men. At the same meeting, the committee opposed Assem bly Bill 2205, which would have given assemblymen and state senators a veto over county committee*' appointments of persons to conduct their party affairs in their districts or counties. The executive committee also urged amendment of the Elections Code to allow county committees to charge dues. The committee has discussed other legislative mea sures affecting political parties, but, outside of the in stances mentioned, it has not taken official stands on them. As the discussion above has indicated, the execu- 3 4 The bill was backed by Jesse Unruh, who was in the process of trying to capture control of the Los Angeles county committee. Governor Brown vetoed it (Los Angeles Mirror, July 21, 1961). ^ Supra, chap. v. Table 4. 413 tive conmittee has dealt with a variety of public issues, some of which have been highly controversial. Its posi tions on some issues, especially in the area of civil rights, have been taken in the face of opposition from broad segments of the voting public. It is not surprising, however# that many resolutions, like many platform state ments, are devoid of substantive policy content: They are symbolic gestures praising the Democratic party and its officeholders and criticizing the Republicans.^ The executive committee's pronouncements as the official spokesman for the Democratic party in matters of public policy are formulated in an ad hoc fashion. There is no visible effort to give continuity, consistency, or regularity to the committee's consideration of public 36 During the early 1960's condemnations of the Re publican Party and its leaders often took the form of ex hortations against right-wing extremism. These, however, did not always take the form of resolutions. Moreover, the connection between the Republican Party and extremism and was often implied rather than stated explicitly. In March, 1961, for example, an executive committee meeting served as a vehicle for publicizing a report on the John Birch Socie ty, which had been prepared by the office of Attorney Gen eral Stanley Mosk. At the same meeting, the committee called upon all candidates for public office "to repudiate the support of the 'John Birch Society' and the "American Nasi Party,' as well as that of the Communist Party, the Ku Klux Klan, and other subversive organizations" (Minutes of Executive Committee Meeting, March 18, 1961). At the same meeting, the committee also passed a resolution praising the Santa Barbara Mews-Press and the Los Angeles Times for their exposes of the John Birch Society* Later in the year a copy of the Attorney General's report was distributed to all mesibers of the executive cosssittee, and press releases were once again sent out to call attention to the report. 414 issues. No one appears to be responsible for maintaining a continuous scrutiny of public policy or for recommending, on some regular basis, subjects which qre appropriate for the committee's attention. Resolutions need not be sub mitted to the resolutions committee before being presented to the whole executive committee. The main function of the resolutions committee seems to be that of revising resolu tions, proposed by its chairman or by some individual mem bers, often at the instigation of a public official, in order to make them conform to the amendments made by the executive committee. The executive committee's consideration of proposed resolutions is usually characterized neither by lengthy de liberation nor by sharp debate. As in the election of state committee officers, the committee's action on resolu tions is primarily a ratification of prior decisions, which originate elsewhere. The main value of executive committee resolutions seems to be to give a stamp of officiality to these decisions and to enhance their publicity value. Unlike the election of officers, the beevity and unanimity of the executive committee's actions on public policy questions does not appear to be the result of wide spread prior communication with individual members. The character of these actions appears to result from a high degree of intra-party consensus on certain issues, a gen 415 erally supportive orientation toward actions of the party's public officeholders, a willingness to accept the preferen ces of other committee members and/or party leaders on resolutions concerning limited and specialized subjects, the innocuous wording of resolutions on issues which do divide the party, and the largely symbolic, non-substantive import of many resolutions. Party Policy The Executive Committee's Role in Internal Party Affairs The executive committee is the only official entity at the state organizational level which is capable of mak ing collective decisions about internal party affairs. As has been noted above, it functions with some regularity in this capacity in revising the state committee's "By-laws" and in filling vacancies in party offices. Beyond these activities, the role of the committee in regulating the operation of the state committee and in affecting actions of other elements of the party is not well-defined, either in theory or in practice. The import and effect of the executive committee's decisions are often unclear— to the members, to other party entities, and to the scholarly observer. 416 The ambiguity of the committee*■ decision-making responsibilities and of the meaning and real consequences of its actions stem, in large part, from the various fac tors which have been identified as causes and/or effects of the weakness of official state party organizations in Cali fornia. These include statutory regulation} the nonparti san tradition; the autonomy of candidate-centered organiza tional nuclei; the customary and legal barriers to the com mittee's participation in the nominating process; the re gional bifurcation of the state committee's structure and operations; the rise of unofficial organizations, which have competed with the committee for recognition as the authoritative collegial voice of the Democratic party; the lack of integration between the state committee and county committees; and the absense of an established state organi zational base at the local level. These and other factors combine to blur the role of the executive committee in the conduct of party affairs and to obscure the authority, meaning, and concrete impact of its actions. Notwithstanding the effects of such factors, the executive committee is not absolved from making decisions about matters of some significance, nVr is it entirely im potent when it attempts to do so. The structure and pro cedures of the committee actually facilitate the perform ance of decision-making functions by bringing together rep- 417 resentatives of major elements of the party and by institu tionalizing a process of interaction and conznunication among them. The membership of the committee includes the presi dents of the CDC and the CFYD, the national coimnitteemen from California, the county chairmen, representatives of the executive and legislative contingents of the party-in- government, as well as the co-chairmen of congressional district delegations to the state committee. The major portion of the agenda of any executive committee meeting consists of reports from all of these sources; from the chairmen, treasurers, and other officers of the state com mittee; and from those in charge of special projects, such as fund-raising programs and registration drives. These reports often become the focal points of extensive discus sions in the committee, and these discussions frequently result in a motion or some other form of decisional re sponse. Thus, there is often a close relationship between a regularized communications process and the decision-mak ing process in the executive committee. The role of the executive committee in the conduct of internal party affairs does extend beyond revising by laws and filling vacancies in party offices. From time to time the committee has attempted to influence the actions of other elements of the jarty (public officeholders, the 418 national committee, county committees, and volunteer organ izations) ; to control or promote actions on the part of state committee personnel; and to respond to crises and in fluence the outcome of conflicts which have arisen in the inner life of the Democratic party. Its decisional responses have taken a variety of forms. These include the establishment of a subcommittee to study a problem; statements interpreting the rules and procedures which govern the state committee's operations and its relationships with other party elements; more or less equivocal expressions of sentiment, urging, supporting or condemning actions by state committee leaders or by other party leaders and organizations; relatively authori tative directive mandating some discrete action by state committee personnel; and statements ratifying some action already taken by state committee personnel. After deliber ating about some matter, the committee may also produce a deafening silence, through which it tacitly signals ambiva lence, the conferal or denial of consent, agreement or dis agreement with some position by not taking any action that would make a particular piece of business part of the offi cial record of the committee. Perhaps the most intriguing, as well as most rele vant, questions about the executive committee's decision making functions concern the committee's role in governing 419 the operation of the state committee itself. Direct obser vation indicates that the officers and staff of the state committee, often acting in concert with other leaders, initiate programs without submitting their plans to the committee for prior authorization. They regularly announce special fund-raising events, workshops, registration pro jects, programs for providing services to candidates, and other activities without seeking the approval of the com mittee, before or after the fact. Individual members may participate, through informal channels, in planning and carrying out such activities, but the committee's formal authorization for operations, which are conducted in the name of the state central committee, is seldom solicited. On the other hand, individual members, often acting for one faction against another, may initiate inquiries about the actions of state committee personnel, which even tually result in motions designed to prescribe or circum scribe their activities. Such inquiries and resultant di rectives aimed at controlling the actions of state commit tee personnel have most frequently involved the collection and disbursement of state committee funds. Finance Money is possibly the most interesting subject re ceiving attention in executive committee meetings. But the 420 subject is one which is obscured by an opaque veil woven of cautious defensiveness, conspiratorial secretiveness, wild conjecture, and interesting but often inaccurate hear say. Verifiable data are difficult to obtain. As Alexan der Heard declared, "the bete noire of all student of po litical finance is the dearth of hard, comprehensive, readily available information."37 r**, financial statements are no more descriptive of pecuniary substance than the tip of an iceberg is of its hidden mass. This is certainly true of financial statements presented to the executive committee; it has sometimes been more true of statements issuing from southern California than from northern Cali fornia. The Democratic party typically collects and disbur ses funds through a proliferation of committees, making the enforcement of responsibility or accountability by any official party organ difficult or, perhaps, impossible. The executive committee is the only collective agency in the official party structure which regularly receives re ports from the several individuals and groups who collect and distribute money in the name of, or in association with, the Democratic state central committee. The bifurcation of the state committee structure 17 J'Alexander Heard, The Costs of Democracy, Anchor Books (Garden City, New YorJtt Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1962) , p. 3. 42X multiplies the number of reports received by the executive committee. Each section of the state central committee, north and south, maintains its own autonomous financial system. Consequently, the committee hears from two trea surers, two chairmen of the Jefferson Jackson Day dinners, two chairmen of "Dollars for Democrats." In addition, the committee receives reports concerning financial matters from the state chairman and regional vice-chairman, the women's division chairman in each section, the national committeemen, representatives of the CDC and the CFYD, and from individuals in charge of special programs, such as the "United Democratic Headquarters Fund" and subscription sales for party publications. The committee receives a substantial volume of fi nancial information from a variety of sources. It does not however, participate in the important decisions of budget ary planning, nor does the committee have a means of inde pendently auditing receipts and expenditures.3® There is no subcommittee, rule, or customary procedure that would give the committee systematic control over state committee finances. But the committee does exert a check on the handling of funds by occasional but telling harrassment of 3®Cf. Robert Lee Sawyer, Jr., P f f f l ocratlc State Central Committee in Michigan. 1949-1959t The Rise of the New Politics and the New Political Leadership (Ann Arbor: Institute of Public Administration, University of Michigan, 1960), pp. 174-175. 422 those who hold the keys to the party coffers. Variations in the executive committee's response to state committee financial reports have reflected general differences in the circumstances and styles of leadership between the northern and southern sections and changes in the conditions of leadership in the southern section from one period to another. From 1954 until the resignation of Roger Kent from the northern chairmanship in 1966, the committee's reception of the northern treasurer's report was uniformly acquiescent: the report evoked neither an inquistive nor a dissenting murmer. The response to the report of the southern treas urer has been variable. From 1962 through 1966, the re port provoked almost as little comment in the executive committee as that issued by the northern section, although it was often the subject of more rumor and speculation out side of the setting of the formal meeting. From late in 1958 through 1961, however, the southern financial report was often greeted with hostile inquiries and rumbles of dissatisfaction. During these years, the executive commit tee became an instrument wielded by southern section mem bers to wrest fiscal information from a reticent chairman and to inhibit his freedom of action in the disbursement 6f funds. The reasons for these differences in the reaction 423 of the committee to northern and southern financial state ments and to southern statements from one period to another may be found in two related sets of factors. One, perhaps the most important, consisted of regional and temporal variations in the unity and stability of party leadership. The other involved divergencies in the manner of collecting and allocating state committee funds. A few observations about these matters may give some perspective to regional differences and intra-regional changes in the executive committee's role in financial affairs. From 1954 through 1966, the state committee's fir* nancial system in northern California was relatively uni fied, clearcut, reliable, and unquestioned. This condition reflected and reinforced the unity and stability of Demo cratic party leadership in that section of the state. Roger Kent, who served alternately as northern sec tion chairman and state chairman throughout this period, was himself, a major fund-raiser. More importantly, he enjoyed the unqualified confidence of a dominant leadership corps, which was socially, as well as politically, solidified. 7 This leadership group embraced all major elements of the 3®This impression of social cohesion was widely shared both north and south of the Tehachapis. it was most strongly conveyed and supported by interviews with Roger Kent, August 8, 1961; and Nancy Swadesh, June 20, 1961. 424 party— the CDC, Important segments of the party-in-govern ment, major contributors, and the national coBnitteewonan. Although a small faction of dissidents, which had rallied around Assemblyman (later Congressman) Phillip Burton, and a militant faction within the CDC occasionally waved a rag ged banner of defiance, the state central coninittee leader ship corps faced no serious challenge to its hegemony dur ing these years. The group had strong ties with Governor Brown, northern state senators, and the national committee in Washington and enjoyed amicable relations with the CDC. In the period from 1954 through 1966, the northern section of the state committee raised its operating funds from three primary sources. The main fund-raising program was the N$100-A-Month” plan, instituted by Roger Kent in 1954. This program supported a relatively stable budget of between $30,000 and $40,000 per year.40 The $100-A-Month” 40Interviews with Roger Kent, August 8, 1961; and Martin Huff, March 9, 1961. The operating budget sometimes exceeded and, on at least one occasion, fell below this range. The northern section's operating expenses usually declined in election years because staff members went "on leave" to serve in campaigns. An exception appears to have been in the year ended August 31, 1966, when the nor thern division, which usually farmed out staff well before the primary, reported an exceptionally high operating ex pense of almost $92,000, of which almost $40,000 went for salaries (Democratic State Central Committee (Northern Di vision) , "Financial Statements," August 31, 1966 [Mimeo graphed] ). It should be noted that operating expenses did not usually account for a major portion of state committee dis- 425 plan theoretically provided that funds for state committee staff salaries and for office and overhead expenses would be raised on the basis of a formula calling for $10,000 from each of three sources: congressional districts; major fund-raising events, such as the Jefferson-Jackson Day dinner; and the northern finance committee, which consisted of the party's big northern contributors.41 In practice, the relative contribution of each of the component elements of the plan never matched the formu- 42 la. The congressional districts, for example, apparently never met their collective quota.^ The contribution of bursements in either northern or southern California. T6~ t*loutlays have varied considerably from year to year and appear to have included, not only the funds raised by the state committee, but also transfers from other party, as well as non-party, organizations. The state committee oc casionally served as a conduit for substantial sums, col lected by other agencies, to candidates and to supportive campaign services, such as registration and get-out-the- vote drives and slate mailers. Interview with Martin Huff, March 9, 1961. In addition, Chairman Kent relied upon a list of about three hundred people who could be persuaded to contribute approx imately ten dollars each for special election campaigns (interview with Roger Kent, August B, 1961). *2lbid., This conclusion is also based upoa person al observation at executive committee meetings and a £peu- sal of an incomplete set of northern financial statements for the period from August 31, 1960 ho July 31, 1966. ^Theoretically, each congressional district was to raise $300 per year, to be paid to the state committee in quarterly installments. In election years, district con tributions were tacitly waived because of the financial burden of local campaigns. The districts received credit 426 the finance committee was occasionally from two to three times its designated share. In at least one year, however, it may have fallen below $10,000.44 Moreover, major fund raising events, such as a dinner honoring President Kennedy sometimes produced from two to five times the amount stip ulated for such special projects.45 Whatever the internal divergencies of the plan, its net product provided contin uous support for a staff and headquarters through 1966. A second major source of state Bannittee funds was the "Dollars for Democrats Day" drives, which it operated in conjunction with the CDC.46 The drive was conducted in both northern and southern California through 1965. In the south, however, relations between the state committee for any money that they sent in, but the treasurer tried to hold the county chairmen and congressional co-chairmen ul timately responsible for seeing to it that their areas con tributed their shares. Exhortations to this effect were regular features of the northern treasurer's report at ex ecutive committee meetings, testifying to the fact that not all districts were conscientious in meeting their state committee obligations (interview with Martin Huff, March 9, 1961). 44This conclusion is based upon amounts attributed to the vague category of "contributions" in northern finan cial statements. These statements did not always contain a separate designation for the finance committee. ^Democratic State Central Committee (Northern Di vision) , "Financial Statements," May 31, 1961* (Mimeo graphed. ) 46For a description of the national operation of the "Dollars" program, see Bernard Hennessy, Dollars for Democrats, >999, Eagleton Institute Case Study Number 2f f (New York: Uc6raw-Hill Book Company, Inc., 1960). 427 and the CDC became so bitter that, In 1965, each operated its own "Dollars Day."*7 under normal conditions, the pro ceeds were divided as follows: one third of the money stayed in the local area; the balance was sent to the northern or southern section state committee, which, after deducting overhead and other expenses, sent one half of the remainder to the national committee and kept the other 48 half. w A third source of relatively reliable funds (for both the northern and southern sections) was each section's share of state committee dues of ten dollars for each dele gate. The northern committee's budgetary program, for sustaining a headquarters and staff, was successful, in large part, because of the steadfast dependability of a small group of wealthy contributors, including such substan tial figures as Elinor and Edward Heller (banking and fi nance) , Benjamin Swig (Fairmont Hotel), William Roth (Mat son Navigation), and George Killion (American President Lines). These people usually acted in unison to provide reliable, long-term support for the operating expenses of the northern conmittee, as well as donations to individual candidates. 47 ’'Personal observation; Los Angeles Times, August 1, 1965. *®Interview with Martin Huff, March 9, 1961. 428 In contrast to this relatively reliable and compre hensible system, southern California party finance tended to be secretive, competitive, variable, and so complicated as to defy comprehension, let alone coherent description. From 1954 through about 1961, the state committee, south, financed part of its operating expenses through its own version of the "$100-A-Month" plan, the United Democratic Headquarters Fund." This program drew upon contributions from congressional districts, the CDC and the Los Angeles county committee. It supplied approximately $10,000 per year for the support of a Los Angeles headquarters, which housed the offices of the state committee, the national committeeman, the Los Angeles county committee, the CDC, and the California Federation of Young Democrats. After 1961, the southern state committee abandoned the program in favor of more exciting financial ventures, and, even tually, any thought of a "united" headquarters drowned in the rising tide of southern factionalism. As noted above, the southern section has also der ived funds from state committee dues and from the "Dollars Day" drive. Ultimately, however, the financial well-being of the southern section has depended on the whims of a col 49 "United Democratic Headquarters Fund, A Report," October 23, 1959 (Mimeographed.); interview with Joseph Cerrell, September 6, 1961. The northern state committee also shared offices with other organizations. 429 lection of big donors which, unliUe the important northern contributors, has been a diverse and unstable group, whose ■embers have often worked at cross purposes. After the 195 8 Democratic victory, an attempt to bring some order to state committee finamce was made with the creation of a finance committee. At various times, from fifty to over ninety large donors were members of the committee, each contributing a $1,000 membership fee and $200 annual dues.50 In its first year, the finance com mittee raised about $150,000, much of which came from a Jefferson-Jackson Day dinner. Part of this money was used to pay the salary of an executive secretary, which put the southern section on a full-time basis for the first time.51 In the incomplete financial records available for the peri od through 1966, this appears to be the peak amount con tributed by the committee. In later financial statements, however, contributions attributed to the finance committee and the proceeds from fund-raising dinners, to which indi vidual committee members also donated, were listed separ ately. The amounts contributed by the finance committee, 52 as an entity remained substantial (over $70,000 per pear). 50Interview with Joseph Cerrell, September 6, 1961. 51Ibid. 52This conclusion is based upon a perusal of finan cial statements from February 28, 1963 through August 31, 1965. 430 Another, leas Important, source of support for the southern section has been Democratic Associates, Inc., which included such affluent and influential figures as Edwin Pauley, Dan Kimball, John Anson Ford, and J. Edward Day. Democratic Associates grew out of an organization created in 1958 to raise funds for Governor Brown's cam paign. It operated under a state central committee charter and had several hundred members in Los Angeles, Riverside, San Diego, Orange, and San Bernardino counties. Members paid dues of from twenty-five to fifty dollars a year. This group was a vehicle for raising funds from conserva tive businessmen, who were reluctant to contribute to other 54 party organs.3* These are only two of the many overlapping fund raising committees with which the southern party scene has abounded. While their membership lists have presented an image of reassuring affluence, the irregularity of their support has been illustrated by the fact that the financial status of the state committee south has swung sharply be tween the extremes of abject poverty and almost embarras sing affluence.The inconstancy of organizational sup- 53Interview with Joseph Cerrell, September 6, 1961. 5«ibid. 55The low point is not ascertainable because of the irregularity of southern record-keeping and reporting and because, early in 1961, the southern section temporarily 431 port fry big southern contributors has both reflected and reinforced the instability of alliances among party lead ers. Contributions have flowed from one organizational channel to another as alliances among party leadership elements have emerged, shifted, and dissolved. variations in the executive committee's reaction to southern financial statements have reflected changes in the conditions of leadership, including the behavior of the chairman, his relations with other party leaders, and his relations with big contributors or important fund raisers. These conditions have been related, tn turn, to the relative wealth or poverty of the state committee. Relative affluence and the absense of questions concerning the handling of southern state committee funds have prevailed when some degree of unity among southern party leaders has produced a cross-harnessing of the di verse and often competing coteries of big contributors. Such a condition existed from 1962 through the middle of 1964, while Eugene Wyman served as southern chairman and state chairman. During this period, Wyman had the support of both Governor Brown and the dominant coalition of south ern party leaders, including women's Division Chairman "ceased to exist" (ibid.). The peak expenditure for south ern operating expenses appears to have been about $126,000 for the year ended Augast 31, 1965 ("Financial Statement, Democratic State Central Committee of Southern California," August 31, 1965 (Mimeographed.]). 432 Carmen Warahaw and National Committeeman Stanley Mosk, al lied with Assembly Speaker Jesse Unruh. Wyman's promotion of a large and hyperactive staff operation and his spectac ular success as a fund-raiser were initially founded on the fact that both Brown and Unruh certified his credentials to the big southern contributors.56 With this sort of unified backing, Wyman's own natural talents as a political entre- prenneur flourished. For different reasons, relative, albeit not luxur iant, affluence and the absence of fiscal inquiries in the executive committee also prevailed in the southern section from 1964 through August 1966, under the chairmanship of Carmen Warshaw. By 1964, the split between Brown and Unruh was wide and public, wyman had firmly allied himself with Brown, and the two major factions in the south were ruth- 56Interview with Jesse Unruh, June 4, 1971. Unruh publically deplored the inefficiency and the divisive ef fects of raising and distributing funds through a multipli city of ad hoc committees, which had no coianon plan or pur pose. Unlike the major contributors in the north, south ern contributors were socially and politically diverse, fragmented, and competitive. Moreover, unlike their nor thern counterparts, big southern donors had not developed a habit of giving to "the party" as an institution. Their loyalties and their contributions tended to flow to indi viduals, thereby both reflecting and reinforcing southern factionalism. For a while, Unruh tried to bring some order to the chaotic financial situation in the south by central ising the collection and disbursement in the southern branch of the state organisation, over which he exercised considerable influence through his protege, Eugene Wyman. For Unruh's views and efforts in this area, see Helen Ful ler, "The Man to See in California," Harper's Maqasine, January, 1963, p. 72. 433 lessly competing for the loyalty of big contributors. The Governor attempted to undercut Mrs. Warshaw's efforts to obtain the confidence of wealthy donors and their support for state committee operations by indicating that access to his solicitous attention was now to be ob tained through the office of National Committeeman Eugene Wyman.57 Mrs. Warshaw, however, had two advantages in se curing a financial base. One was the fact that she aad other members of her family had been a source of substan tial financial contributions. The other, more important, advantage was that she had the wholehearted support of such political heavyweights as Unruh; Hugh Burns, the president protempore of the state senate; and Cecil King, the leader of the Democratic congressional delegation.5* * With this backing, she obtained entree to and a friendly reception from big contributors. While the lack of the Governor's endorsement remained a handicap, Mrs. Warshaw was able to build a relatively substantial and stable financial base by carefully nuturing the support of the finance committee. She accomplished this primarily by increasing the flow of financial information to the members and by continuously soliciting their advice and approval, not only in financial 57lnterview with Carmen Warshaw, August 31, 1971. 58Ibid. 434 natters, but also In program planning and in the develop ment of public policy positions.59 The only open dissension about financial affairs in the executive committee that occurred during Mrs. Warshaw*s tenure did not concern her management of funds but a gen eral question of party policy— i.e.— should the state com mittee assume responsibility for the payment of debts in curred by the two major contenders for the Democratic nomi nation .in the 1964 United States senatorial primary? This case will be considered later in this section. From 1962 through 1966, the treasurers' reports from southern California were received with interest but without much critical comment in the executive committee. The committee exerted little effort to obtain information beyond that provided in the financial statements or to con trol the chairmen's activities in the collection and dis tribution of funds. The behavior of the committee in this period suggests that its role in financial affairs tends to be minimised when a section chairman is, himself, a major fund-raiser or, more importantly, when he enjoys the confi dence of the dominant alliance of party leaders in his section. When these conditions are absent, the executive committee may be used as a means of limiting a chairman's 59Ibid. 435 freedom in the handling of funds. The report of a sec tion's treasurer to the executive committee may become a convenient focal point for scruting and criticism of a chairman's financial stewardship. The "By-laws" of the state central committee des cribe the responsibilities of the treasurers as follows: The Northern Section Treasurer and the Southern Section Treasurer shall take custody of all funds directly or indirectly raised or received by this organization in their respective sections. They shall open and maintain bank accounts for the de posit of funds and shall make disbursements at the direction of the State Chairman. They shall make reports at each regular meeting of the Exec utive Committee of receipts and disbursements.60 In practice, the roles of the northern and southern treas urers have differed markedly: the northern treasurer ac tually kept the books; at times, the southern treasurer did not even see them.61 North-south differences in the roles of the treasurers, the preparation of the quarterly finan cial reports, the informativeness and comprehensibility 6t the reports, and the regularity with which the reports have been issued were especially marked in the period from 1959 through 1961* "By-laws" (1962, 1965), sec. 6e. Under the 1958 "By-laws," treasurers were not required to make reports, but the agenda of the executive committee meetings regular ly contained references to such reports. ^Personal observation; interview with Martin Huff, March 9, 1961. 436 In both northern and southern California, the na ture of the records kept and the allocation of state com mittee funds have been left to the discretion of the sec tion chairman. Typically, the northern treasurer prepared a balance sheet and a relatively detailed account of re ceipts and disbursements. The statement contained no list of individual contributors but it did show that part of the state committee's funds came from private contributions and the gross receipts from major fund-raising events and from congressional district contributions. Since the northern committee's donors were generally well-known, the report seemed to be understood and accepted by the executive com mittee. Its presentation seldom evoked comment, and Roger Kent's financial management was never questioned in the ex ecutive committee meetings, nor by any of the northern party leaders interviewed for this study. By way of con trast, the financial activities of the southern chairman, William Munnell, were frequently the object of critical inquiries. The southern committee's books, especially in the early 1960's, were a compendium of "special accounts," through which money flowed with ominous anonymity and alarming alacrity. Rumors of nameless donors with dubious reputations sporadically flew through the suspicion-laden southern atmosphere. The southern section was often re- 437 missive about submitting a financial statement to the ex ecutive committee. Those reports which were issued often contained an exceedingly sketchy account of cash receipts and disbursements. The absense of a southern financial statement and the incompleteness of those which were de livered often provoked hostile questioning in executive committee meetings, where special concern was exhibited about the disposition of large sums raised at dinnexs and about commitments to the national committee being given precedence over the payment of California creditors of the Democratic party. As one person, describing the southern situation in 1960, put it: "The southern financial state ment is a very sore subject."62 William Munnell served as majority floor leader in the assembly from 1959 to 1961. At the time he became southern chairman, he was closely allied with Unruh, War- shaw, and Mosk. In the interviews conducted for this study, various reasons were offered for his fall from grace. But the common theme that ran through otherwise di vergent explanations emphasized his behavior in financial affairs. Unlike Kent, Munnell was not a major fund-raiser himself. The putative "collector" in southern California 6^Does not wish to be identified. 438 was Assembly Speaker Jesse Unruh. The lack of an indepen dent financial base, however, was not the primary cause of Munnell1s problems. Eugene Wyman was in the same situation vis-a-vis Unruh for a large part of his term as southern and state chairman. Munell made the situation a problem when he attempted to act unilaterally in the distribution of funds and to take personal credit for outlays of money which others had been primarily responsible for raising.6* * Jesse Unruh, later reflecting upon Munnell1s behavior, complained that "the situation became so bad in the letter days of Munnell*s reign** that he was forced "to shift oper ations to the national committee," under the move reliable auspices of Attorney General Stanley Mosk.6* The minutes of the executive committee furnish a fragmented but telling chronicle of attempts to use the committee as a check on the southern chairman's handling of state committee funds. The first of such efforts was actually made during the term of William Rosenthal, Mun nell' s predecessor. This initial effort was, perhaps, symp tomatic of the emergence of Jesse Unruh as a pmverful po litical figure in southern California and of the beginning of his eventually successful drive to control various or- 63lbid. 6*Interview with Jesse Unruh, June 4, 1971. 439 ganizational entities in the south. Madale Watson, who was then a thirtieth congres sional district co-chairman, was a close ally of Assembly man Unruh. She had been in charge of arrangements for several large fund-raising events in southern California. Zt was she who initiated the guest for information concern ing state committee finances at an executive committee meeting in December, 1958, when she moved that the commit tee receive a financial report, which had been audited by a public accountant, within ninety days.65 The motion was tabled, and the thirst for knowledge apparently abated un til after the chairmanship shifted to an Unruh ally, William Munnell. When the quest for informaiton resumed during Munell's term, it is noteworthy that all of the major pursuers were Unruh allies. The next item signaling concern about the manage ment of state committee finances appeared in the minutes for a meeting held in June, 1959. Southern Chairman Mun nell was .asked to explain an entry in the financial state ment, "Munnell— entertainment— $1,617.00.66 The minutes do not relate the nature of the explanation. They do show that Mr. Munnell, lather paradoxically, "suggested that the 65Minutes of Executive Committee Meeting, December 6, 1958 66Minutes of Executive Conmittee Meeting, June, 6-7t 1959. 440 financial report of the South be in greater detail" and that "the treasurer be assisted by a C.P.A."67 He also suggested that contributors' names not be given in the re port. Munnell*s proposal seems to have resulted in no enrichment of edifying detail in the financial statements, but thereafter it does appear that the accountant, not the treasurer, prepared the statements. Those distributed to the executive committee were presented under the letter head of Gold, Mason t Company, a Beverly Hills accounting firm, which apended the following qualification to the statement: In connection with the preparation of the state ment we examined in detail all of the checks and vouchers for completeness and propriety and for the purpose of classifying properly the trans actions, but our examination of receipts was lim ited to reconciling the records with the bank de posits. 68 The participation of an accountant did little to enhance the informational value of southern financial state ments. The pursuit of knowledge in the executive commit tee was resumed at a meeting in December, 1960, when Dianne 67Ibid. 88"Democratic State Central Coenittee, Southern Division, Interim Financial Statements," August 31, 1960; November 30, I960; February 28, 1961; August 31, 1961; Nay 31, 1961. 441 McGinness, women's division vice-chairman, successfully moved that "the Southern California Finance Committee re port be distributed to the Executive Committee.*69 Munnell assured the committee that his officd would distribute the report. A report, "Financial Statements of Special Ac counts," prepared by Steve Smith and labled "Confidential," was eventually distributed to the committee.70 Mrs. Mc- Ginness1 dissatisfaction with the Southern California fis cal situation was not permanently extinguished. In June, 1961, she won executive committee approval of another mo tion: "It is to be known that this body urges William Mun nell to appoint a Chairman for 'Dollars for Democrats.' In September, 1961, the executive committee's poten tial as an instrument for the harrassroent of state commit tee officers— specifically the southern chairman and his unwilling agent, the southern treasurer— was fully real ised. Madale Watson, taking up the role of Grand Inquisi 69Minutes of Executive $Onmittee Meeting, December 10, 1960. 70*Democratic State Central Committee of Southern California, Financial Statement of Special Accounts," pre pared by Steve Smith, December 1, 1960. As originally pre pared, this report contained a detailed account of contri butions by the Democratic state campaign fund to Democratic candidates, but this section was deleted from the report before it was distributed to executive committee members. ^Minutes of Executive Committee Meeting, June 24, 1961. 442 tor with obvious relish instigated an inquiry into the mat ter of financial statements. The dialogue between Mrs. Watson and the hapless treasurer, to whom her questions were directed in the absense of Munnell, is revealing. Other members from southern California, in the role of Greek chorus, offered edifying comment. Members from northern California did not participate but watched with avid interest as ssuthern California financial linen was washed before the whole committee. As soon as Assemblyman Tom Carrell, southern sec tion treasurer, finished distributing the financial report, Mrs. Watson opened with a complaint that, at the last meet ing, she had asked for a report on the Kennedy-Johnson and Goldberg dinners and had not received a n y .72 Mr. Carrell replied that he would like one too, but his requests for a report, including one made the day before the meeting to Harold Aisley, southern section executive secretary, had not been honored. Marvin Holen, another Unruh ally, also wanted to know about the disposition of the m»ney from the dinners: "Is the money from the dinners in the treasury or in some other account?" Mr. Carrell replied that the funds had 72Minutes of Executive Committee Meeting, Septem ber 23, 1961. Most of the account of this meeting is based upon personal observation. 443 been in the treasury but were now in a special account to pay convention expenses for the national committee. Mrs. Watson reiterated her complaint: "This is the second din ner we've had no accounting for. All I've had is a lot of guff." She emphasized that the dinners had been advertised under the auspices of the state central committee. Some one volunteered the information that the money had been usdd to satisfy Democratic party creditors. Then "why" asked Mrs. Watson "does Hilton [of the hotel chain] keep calling me to pay a bill that has my name on it7M Trudy Owens, then seventeenth congressional co- chairman, and a member of the Unruh faction, moved that the executive committee insist on a financial report from southern California and that a letter be written to Munnell asking for information on dinners which had not been re ported. At this point, more information was volunteered from the floor: a group of men had loaned $100,000 to the state committee. Munnell gave this money to National Treasurer Mathew McClosky and then decided to hold the din ners in order to pay the four or five men who had made the loan. Mr. Kent, apparently commenting on Mrs. Owens' motion, contended that it was not his prerogative to give an order to Mr. Carrell: "this is the function of southern Californians under Munnell." Several members pointed out 444 that Munnell was not present. Mrs. McGlnness explained that the motion did not involve giving Carrell an order. She expressed regret "for putting Tom [Carrell] on the spot because this is not his fault." Her suggestion that the dinner committee, which was appointed by Munnell, be asked to make a report was greeted with laughter. Madale Watson agreed that the motion "gets the treasurer off the spot, which is what we want to do, but it still doesn't get us information." Mr. Kent then delivered a tactful admoni tion : "If 1 were in the audience and from the north, I would not vote on the motion." The following motion was approved by the southern California members of the execu tive committee: The Executive Coimnittee requests Southern Cali fornia Vice Chairman, Bill Munnell, to give an account to this body of the funds that have been taken in and spent in regards to those items in cluded in the financial statement that was given by the Treasurer, i.e., the Kennedy-Johnson Din ner , the Goldberg Dinner, and the Ad Book. A statement should be given of the disposition of gross income, gross expenses, staff, etc.73 In November, 1961, Munnell resigned to accept a timely offer of a judicial appointment. In January 1962, his successor, Eugene Wyman, reported a deficit of $21,000 in the state committee treasury. He indicated that the 73Ibid. 445 deficit would be overcome with the proceeds from a Kennedy dinner and that $10,000 had been raised to meet current operating expenses.74 Somewhat less reassuring was his plan for a quarterly audit of accounts by a certified public accountant, who would have charge of the boohs of the finance committee and the state central committee. In the past, a certified public accountant's endorsement on financial statements had not been a guarantee of satisfac tory disclosure. It cannot be said that the executive committee, itself, brought about William Munnell's retirement from active political life.75 The expressions of discontent in executive committee meetings were symptoms of his fall from the favor of those who had been his political allies in southern California. But harrassment in executive com mittee meetings may have acted as something of a restraint on his freedom of action. At least, it occassionally ex tracted his promise of a financial report, if not the re port itself. The mention of the transfer of $100,000 to Mathew McClosky at the September, 1961 meeting points to a col- 74Minutes of Special Executive Committee Meeting, November 9, 1961. 75Munnell had wanted to retire from active politics for personal reasons. {Interview with Jesse Unruh, June 4, 1971). 446 lateral interest of the executive committee.76 It eagerly sought information about the state committee's obligation to the national committee. It also tried to impose a spe cific course of action on the southern chairman's efforts to fulfill this obligation. California's commitment to the national committee was $250,000. The executive committee seemed concerned primarily with guaranteeing that California creditors of the Democratic party would be paid before large sums were transfered to the national committee and that all contribu tions to the national committee from California would be credited to the fulfillment of the state committee's na tional obligation. The subject was discussed, rather confusedly, at a meeting in March, 1961.77 William Munnell announced that the finance committee hAd borrowed $100,000 on the antici pated proceeds from a Jefferson-Jackson Day dinner to send to the national committee in partial repayment of money owed from the 1960 campaign. He indicated that the loan had to be negotiated because the Governor had requested that the money be advanced to the national committee iraned- 76 vSee Heard, op. clt., pp. 240-272, for a discus sion of the significance oftransfers of funds among party organisations at different levels. 77 Minutes of Executive Committee Meeting, March 18, 1961t personal observation at this meeting. 447 iately. Munnell also hinted that the advance might fore stall a destitute national committee from making a direct appeal in California just before "Dollar Day," as it had done on previous occasions, with disadvantageous consequen ces for the state party's fund-raising program.?8 Roger Kent, who had recently returned from a trip to Washington, D.C., outlined northern California's plans to pay its share of the $250,000, which was $71,000. He announced that northern state committee "would take what is needed off the top of the proceeds for the dinner less what we get out of dues and other revenue sources to help run the office and send the rest to Matthew McClosky as agreed with him."?9 It was Kent's understanding that both the north and the south were credited for their "Dollar Day" money against the $250,000, which was promised from California. It later became apparent that McClosky did not share this understanding, but Kent won his point. After a number of questions were posed from the floor about the determination of California's national commitments, Carmen Warshaw read a resolution, which had passed unanimously in a southern caucus held in the morning 79 Minutes of Executive Committee Meeting, March 18, 1961. ({Kent's remarks are quoted from the Minutes). 448 before the executive committee convened, end moved its adoption by the whole committee. The resolution, expres sing southern anxiety about relations with creditors, read as follows; WHEREAS services contracted for by the Democratic National Committee Convention Committee with the California business community in the approximate amount of $150,000 are apparently still unpaid; and WHEREAS this is embarrassing to all segments of the Democratic Party, and the integrity, re sponsibility and solvency of the California Demo cratic Party has been called in question, there by reflecting unfavorably upon our important Demo cratic candidates leading to the 1962 campaigns; and WHEREAS California’s current assignment es tablished by the Democratic National Committee of $250,000, of which $100,000 has been forwarded by the Southern California State Central Committee will further assist the Democratic National Com mittee ; THEREFORE BE IT RESOLVED that first priority of all monies raised in California towards our quota be given to the immediate reduction of the amounts owed to California creditors of the Demo cratic National Committee.80 The motion was adopted unanimously by the executive com mittee. Roger Kent said that he would inform the national committee of the executive committee's sentiments concern ing the allocation of California's national contributions. The executive committee's uneasiness about payment 80Ibid. 449 of its national debt was not completely dissipated. lister Van Tatenhove, Orange county chairman, won approval for a motion requiring that "the Chairman appoint a Committee to consider the ways and means the Democrats in the State of California can raise the $J50,000."8* Mr. Kent appointed Martin Huff, Jane Morrison, and himself to this committee and asked Munnell to appoint the southern California mem bers. Munnell chose Diane McGinness and himself. Still not satisfied, Madale Watson offered a motion aimed specifically at checking the heretofore unfettered disposition of southern California party funds. The ex ecutive committee adopted her proposal ahht "we pay or re imburse whoever put up the $100,000 in the South and hold the rest of the money until the Ways and Means Committee meets."®2 In accordance with a tactful reminder from Kent, Mrs. Watson clarified the motion to pertain exclusively to funds raised from southern California dinners. The failure of Munnell to issue a report on gross receipts from these dinners later led Mrs. Watson to initiate the prolonged in quiry at the September meeting described above. By way of contrast, the executive committee made no effort to circumscribe Ro^er Kent's authority over the dis- 81Ibid. 82Ibid. 450 position of northern state committee funds. However, he graciously offered to freeze funds in the north, above the $75,000 already committed to the national committee. In June, the ad hoc ways and means committee, then consisting of Tom Carrell, Martin Huff, Dianne McGinness, and Roger Kent, reported to the executive committee. It had decided "in an advisory capacity" to withhold money from the national committee until state bills were paid. The committee's recommendation was given a more positive statement in the official minutes, which fchow that it "sug gested" that "$250,000 be given to the National Committee at the end of the year."83 Mrs. Watson, who has never been easily satisfied, moved to accept the committee's report. The motion passed.8^ The contrast between the reaction of the executive conmittee to the conduct of financial affairs by Munnell and by Kent, Wyman, and Warshaw suggests some guidelines S3 "’ ’ Minutes of Executive Committee Meeting, June 24, 1961. **Ibid. At an executive committee meeting in March 1962, Roger Kent supplied a closing footnote to the conten tious matter of state committee debts and financial rela tions with the national committee. He reported that the state committee had almost met its quota of contributions to the national committee and, with evident satisfaction, he magnanimously offered to share, with southern California $15,000, which he had "held out on the national committee." The money came from the national committee's share of "Dol lars for Democrats" proceeds, which he deemed unnecessary to fulfill California's national qutta (personal observa tion} Minutes of Executive Committee Meeting, March 31, 1962). 451 for the actions of a chairman who wishes to be entrusted with substantial discretion in handling large amounts of money and who wishes to avoid harrassment and/or control by the executive committee. First, whether the funds are col-* lected by the chairman or by others, the chairman should make expenditures in the name of the state committee rather than in his own name. Secondly, the chairman should con sult with other party leaders and with major fund-raisers and contributors in making financial decisions. Within the limits of extreme or bizzare financial actions, prior con sultation may be more important than the nature of the ac tual decisions. Thirdly, the dhairman should insure that credit is given, within party circles if not in the press, to those who have collected or contributed funds, unless these people wish to remain anonymous. Those who wish to remain anonymous should also be given recognition— person ally and quietly. Munnell violated these rules and suffered two con sequences! (1) the flow of funds through the state cnmnit- tee coffers was reduced to a trickle, as money was diverted to more reliable organizational channelsi (2) the executive committee became a forum for the expression of discontent with Munnell's fiscal conduct, which, as one of his disen chanted former allies complained, had been characterised by 452 "unilateral spending and arbitrary decisions."85 Whether or not the executive committee's actions actually reduced Munnell's autonomy in financial decision* making, the result of the first consequence was that he had less and less to make decisions about. By August, 1961, for example, the southern section had only $240 in the till and was in the embarrassing position of having to borrow money from the northern section in order to respond to a solicitation, made in an executive committee meeting, for contributions to a special election campaign.8® The shaky condition of the southern section's financial foundations moved Roger Kent to reject a suggestion that he hold Chair* man Munnell responsible for repayment of the loan. He agreed to release the funds only upon receipt of a note signed by three prominent southern members of the executive committee.87 The executive committee's role in the financial af fairs of the state committee has depended largely on the relations of a section chairman with other party leaders and important contributors or fund-raisers. If the chair man has the support of the dominant faction in his section 85Does not wish to be identified. 88Minutes of Executive Committee Meeting, September 23, 1961. 87Ibid. 453 and if he observes the rules of courtesy mentioned above, the intervention of the executive committee in fiscal mat ters will be minimized. If factional alliance patterns shift, or if the chairman violates the rules, these circum stances will reverberate in the committee's behavior, some what in the same way that changes in economic conditions reverberate in the stock market. In this.sense, the com mittee's reaction to financial reports is a rather sensi tive barometer for registering changes in the pprty atmos phere. In addition to the Munnell case, two incidents il lustrate the point. One registered Wyman's defection from the Unruh camp in the contest which was discussed in Chapter IV, for the national committeeman's position in June, 1964. For most of Wyman's tenure, no questions about the southern financial report were raised in the executive committee. At the last meeting before Wyman resigned to become na tional committeeman, however, Mrs. Watson once again began seeking fiscal information and subjected Wyman to extensive questioning about the southern financial statement.88 The inquiry went no further because, in August, the southern chairmanship passed into the hands of a loyal friend of Unruh's, Carmen Warshaw. 88Minutes of Executive Committee Meeting, June, 25, 1964. • 54 The second incident registered the disintegration of the formerly solid state committee leadership group in the north. Early in 1966, Roger Kent resigned, and the chairmanship passed to Robert Coate, who had been northern section treasurer. At the first executive committee after the November election, which had been such a disaster for the Democrats, questions were raised about the northern financial statement for.the first time in twelve years. Assemblyman Pauline Davis demanded a breakdown of the ex penditures listed in the reports, specifically, those hav ing to do with salaries. Coate declined to release such infosnoation in the meeting because of press coverage. He indicated that he would supply such information to indi vidual members upon receipt of written requests. As noted above, the executive committee became in volved in a major question of financial policy, which arose out of the 1964 Democratic U.S. senatorial primary.91 Two days before the primary election, the two major contenders, Pierre Salinger and Alan Cranston, negotiated a pact which ®9Direct observation at executive committee meeting December 3, 1966. 90Ibid. 91Ibid. See John R. Owens, Momay and Politics in California! Eemocratic Senatorial Primary, 1964 (Prince ton, New Jersey: Citisens'Research Foundation, 1966) especially pp. 45-47. 455 committed the winner to help liquidate up to $150,000 of the loser's debt. The agreement was based on the assump tion that the Democratic nominee would win in the general election and, consequently, would have no trouble raising the money to pay the collective debt. State Chairman Eugene Hyman and Governor Brown apparently gave their bles- 92 sing to the agreement, perhaps in recognition that impor tant contributors, who advanced substantial sums to the candidates in the primary, might be reluctant to donate to the general election campaign unless they were repaid.93 The fact that the Governor and the State Chairman acted unilaterally in this matter, without seeking authorization from the executive committee or, more importantly, without consulting the southern section's finance committee was to create a host of problems. The assumption on which the agreement was based proved to be erroneous when Pierre Salinger lost to George Murphy in the general election. Without a United States senator to raise money, the burden of the debt fell on the individual candidates or on the Democratic Party. Impor- 92 Ibid., p. 46. Notwithstanding Owens* account, there appears to have been some disagreement about who took the lead or participated in negotiating the agreement. Cf. Los Angeles Times, June 9 and 12, 1964; Los Angelas Herald Examiner, June 9, 1964, Long Beach Press-Telegram, June f t , 1M4. --3 1 -------------3-- 93Ibifi. 456 tant element* In the party had not been consulted about nor acquiesced in the agreement and denied that the party had the responsibility or even the right to pay primary debts. In particular, the chairman of the southern section, who succeeded to the position when Wyman became national com- mitteeman, refused to allow funds raised by the state com mittee, south, to be used for payment of the deficit. This case deserves consideration for what it re veals, not only about the role of the executive committee, but also about relations among party leaders and the frag mentation and diffusion of decision-making and implementa tion processes in the Democratic party. The question of the deficit became entangled in the feud between the Brown- Wyman and Unruh-Warshaw factions in southern California. But the complicated terms of that feud should not obscure some of the fundamental issues which the debt dispute raised about intra-party financial authority and account ability, the primary election role of official party agen cies, the relationships between various segments of the party and big donors, and the role of the executive com mittee. The dispute exploded in the press in February, 1965, after emissaries of Governor Brown tried to persuade the southern chairman, Carmen Warshaw, to commit part of the proceeds from the southern committee's annual Congres- 457 sional Ball to retire some of the senatorial campaign Q A debt.7' Mrs. Warshaw refused, arguing that restoring the solvency of the southern section, in preparation for the 1966 campaign, took precedence over the 1964 deficits. She also indicated that she could not act unilaterally in the disposition of funds but would have to seek the advice of the southern section's finance committee. There followed an exchange of letters, released in advance to the press, between Salinger and Mrs. Warshaw. Salinger contended that, if Mrs. Warshaw felt that repay ment of 1964 campaign deficits were none of her concern, she should resign.9® Mrs. Warshaw de&ftined to do so. She pointed out that Salinger had not previously asked her to help with the debt and that she and her staff had raised "thousands of dollars* 1 for his general election campaign. She also complained that Salinger had displayed an "amazing lack of economy" in the campaign and, in spite of her ef forts to discuss the matter with him, had shown no interest "in reducing the teemendous overhead..."9® 9*The emissaries were Salinger's campaign manager (and, in nonelection years, the northern state committee's executive secretary) , DonBBaMley, State Finance Director Hale Champion, and Eugene Wyman "Minutes of the Democratic Finance Committee, March 17, 1965; (Mimeographed^ Los Angeles Times February 17, 1965. 9®Minutes of the Democratic Finance Committee, March 17, 1965 interview with Carmen Warshaw, August 31, 1970. ®®Los Angeles Times, February 17, 1965. 458 Nevertheless, had Salinger approached her about re tiring the debt and shown a willingness to work with the state committee, some agreement might have been reached. In contradiction to this admission that the southern sec tion might have helped reduce the debt, Mrs. Warshaw ques tioned whether the official party is responsible for pri mary deficits and whether payment of the Sdlinger-Cranston debt would constitute a precedent which would have to be QB extended to other candidates. Governor Brown, National Committeeman Eugene Wyman, National Conmitteewoman Elizabeth Smith Gatov and her suc cessor, Ann Alanson, the northern section of the state com mittee, and the CDC agreed with Salinger that the party had a responsibility to pay off the senatorial debt." In the north, some' of the efforts to do so were conducted under the auspices of the state committee. In southern California, Brown and Wyman took steps, outside of state committee channels, to accomplish this purpose. The most significant move was made at a private dinner held at Wyman's home and sponsored by Governor Brown 97 Mimeographed copy of letter from Carmen Warshaw to Pierre Salinger, February 17, 1965. The letter was dis tributed to members of the finance committee. 98Ibid. "ibid. 459 and other state constitutional officers.100 At this dinner about one hundred of Brown's top contributors pledged $1,000. each to form the Golden Bear Club, with Salinger as chairman.101' The club was to have a dual function: to re- pay the 1964 senatorial deficit and to form the nucleus of the fund-raising apparatus for Brown's 1966 campaign. Nei ther Warshaw nor Assembly Speaker Unruh were present at the dinner.102 The executive committee became peripherally invol ved in the deficit dispute in at least two meetings held in 1965. At a meeting in March, 1965, Eugene Wyman raised the subject in announcing the formation of the Golden Bear Club Mrs. Warshaw, in her formal report to the committee, broached the subject directly. In the context of a general discussion of the role of the state committee, she said that the committee was prohibited by law from participating "in the conduct of primary campaigns or in paying deficits 100ln contrast to Salinger, Cranston indicated that he was not aware of any prior agreement that money raised at official party functions was to be used to pay the debt. He indicated that he was making progress on his deficit with the help of the Golden Bear Club. As a northern Cali fornian, he declined to get involved in a dispute with Mrs. Warshaw (Santa Monica Evening Outlook, February 17, 1965). 101bos Angeles Times, February 2,and 17, 1965; Hol lywood Citlien News, February 3, 1965. 10^Hollywood Citizen News, February 3, 1965. 469 incurred in such campaigns."103 The committee did have a responsibility "to help maintain the campaigns of Demo cratic nominees on a sound financial basis" but only if the candidate coordinates his activities through the of ficial party organization*"104 The question of the 1964 deficit was "being considered by" the finance committee : - which "has the responsibility for advising us on a decision in this matter.m1°® These appears to have been no discuss sion of either Wyman's report or Warshaw's statement in the executive committee.106 Apparently Mrs. Warshaw had no reason to doubt that the finance committee would support her point of view. Be fore the committee even met, its chairman, Stanley Gerwirtz sent a letter to Salinger which firmly upheld Mrs. War shaw's position.107 The finance committee did meet in March and unani mously passed a motion denying any responsibility for pri 103Ibid. 104Miawographed copy of speech delivered at the executive committee meeting, March 6, 1965. 105Ibid. 106Ibld. 107There was no copy for this meeting in the south ern section's file marked "Executive Committee, 3/6/65." The press accounts of the meeting contained no mention of any discussion of the deficit. *61 108 mary debts. Both Gevlrtz's letter and the discussion at the meeting had two central themes. One was the argument that, aside from the practical problems of paying primary debts for any and all candidates, the state committee was legally barred from participating in primary election cam paigns. The other was the complaint that the committee had not had a voice in determining the disbursements which resulted in the debts and, despite meetings with other par ties to the dispute, had not received sufficient informa tion about the nature of the expenditures or about the total amount of the deficit* The point of the complaint was that, even in relation to general election debts, re sponsibility roust be accompanied by authority. The commit tee would not assume responsibility for expenditures unless it had authorized them, or at least, had been consulted about them. The question of the deficit was again raised at an executive conmittee meeting in June, 1965, after some con tentious pronouncements about the value of preprimary en dorsements. Ann Alanson, delivering a report for State Chairman Roger Kent, made it clear that, in contrast to southern section, the northern state committee had assumed 108 Mimeographed copy of letter from Stanley Gerwirts to Pierre Salinger, February 18, 1965. This let ter was circulated among finance committee members. 462 responsibility for payment 64 some of the 1964 debt.109 It had sponsored a dinner, honoring Governor Brown, which had netted $104,000 about half of which was allotted equal ly to Salinger and Cranston.11® The minutes for this meet ing contain no indication that there was any further dis cussion of the deficit. Five days after the meeting, the Southern section finance committee reaffirmed its resolve not to repay any primary campaign deficits.111 The deficit issue did not undermine the solidarity of the northern section leadership group,,although indivi dual members may tave had some qualms about the way in which the matter had been handled. Nor did the issue cause the split among southern leaders, which was evident well before the question arose. The dispute only added another poison ous element to the already polluted political atmosphere in the south. The deficit dispute did have at least one important side effect in clearly demarcating the separation of fund raising activities in the south. The establishment of two official fundraising operations— one in the office of the 109 "Minutes of the Democratic Finance Committee, March 17, 1965. 110Rough draft of the minutes of the executive committee meeting, June 5, 1965. uiibid. 463 national committeaman and the other in the state commit tee— put big southern contributors, who had overlapping ties to the warring southern factions, in an uncomfortable position. Their situation was made all the more difficult by the fact that the fund-raising activities of the na tional committee office tied the repayment of the 1964 de ficit to the collection of mondy for the Brown campaign. The national commzbttee was sponsoring major fund-raising events, such as a $100-a-plate Humphrey dinner, which nor mally would have been held with the cooperation or under the auspices of the state committee, and dividing the pro ceeds between repayment of the debt and Governor Brown's reelection warchest. In such cases, a contribution to Brown's campaign necessarily meant a contribution to re tiring the debt. Many members of the state committee's finance com mittee were committed to supporting Governor Brown's re* election efforts, and some were acting as officials of the dual-purpose fund-raising affairs conducted by the national committee. But the finance committee had twice resolved not to participate inrcontested primaries, including the repayment of primary deficits. It was thus precluded from involvement in the primary phase of the Governor's cam paign. Moreover, the committee's general policy was that "those who raise the money are entitled to have a voice in 464 its disbursement..."112 The committee, however, was not being consulted about the allocation of the funds collected by Eugene Hyman.11 ^ The finance committee made a four part response to this dilemma. First, it reaffirmed its decision not to underwrite primary debts. Secondly, it decided to avoid collective involvement in events whose proceeds were to be allocated to the <febt. Thirdly, it announded that, as a body, it was precluded by law from participating in primary campaigns but that members could participate as individuals. Fourthly, it made it a ^matter of record" that "everyone on the finance committee has every intention of supporting 114 the Governor's bid for a third term." While the subject of the deficit was sporadically raised in the executive committee meetings through 1965, the comnittee took no discrete action in the matter until 1966. This case is strikingly different from the situation that arose under Munnell. No direct challenge was ever raised in the committee to the fiscal authority of the in dividual parties to the dispute, and no effort was made by 112 "Minutes of the Democratic Finance Committee, June 10, 1965." (Mimeographed.) l^Letter from Stanley Gerwirtz to Pierre Salinger, February 18, 1965. ^^"Minutes of Democratic Finance Committee, June 5, 1965." 465 the committee to control their actions. None of the prota gonists tried to make their view authoritative by forcing the issue in the executive committee. Perhaps they real ized that, unless the disputants reached an understanding that would get major contributors off the spot, any decis ion made by the executive committee would not obtain com pliance. In the absense of such an understanding, an ex ecutive committee action in March or June of 1965 might only have widened the schism among party leaders in the southland alienated some important goeup of contributors. The actions of the southern section chairman and the southern finance committee did raise some important questions about the debt agreement and about the role of official party agencies, which deserved serious considera tion and called for some authoritative policy response by the executive committee.Could or should the state committee be obligated to pay a primary debt when the Elections Code prohibits it from participating in primary election campaigns? If the state comnittee did repay the Salinger-Cranston debt, would this action establish a pree cedent that applied to other candidates? Who had the au thority to commit the party to this sort of financial obli gation? ii5ibid. 466 Perhaps Governor Brown paved the way for the ex ecutive committee's eventual answer to these questions by indirectly admitting that he and Wyman had erred in talking unilateral action in this matter. He insisted that the par ty did have an obligation to pay off-^this particular defi cit, but he admitted that "primary debts should not be a party obligation."116 "Our efforts to clear up this unfor tunate situation," he said, "should be coupled with the understanding that the party will not assume primary debts in the future."117 The main obstacle to the settlement of the dispute, along the lines suggested by the Governor, was the open and bitter intra-party hostility which raged through 1964 and most of 1965. While the deficit was entangled with all of the other terms of acrimonious controversy between the Brown and Unruh factions, neither the executive commit tee nor any other agency could act constructively, even though the dispute was harmful to both sides because it discouraged some big donors from contributing to the pre*» parations for the 1966 campaign. Only after the storm tem porarily subsided, late in 1965, was it possible for the executive committee to establish a policy, which reflected 116See Owens, op. cit., p. 47. 117Ibid. 467 the hard lessons of the 1964 experience and provided a guideline for the actions of party leaders and their fund raisers. The executive committee issued such a statement in February# 1966. As a sign of the consensus which had been reached on the party's role in the repayment of primary debts, it was State Chairman Robert Coate, a northerner, who submitted the following resolution, which was approved by the executive committee: WHEREAS the reputation and credit of the Democra tic party can be damaged by deficits resulting from excessive expenditures in political cam paigns; and WHEREAS the Democratic party can not [sic.] assume a formal position in a primary campaign contested between Democrats; NOW THEREFORE be it resolved that the Demo cratic State Central Committee does hereby de clare that neither the Committee nor its Execu tive Committee nor its officers will assume any obligation for deficits resulting from a contes ted Democratic primary campaign, AND FURTHERMORE, be it resolved that the Chairman of the Democratic State Central Commit tee is hereby instructed to cause a copy of this resolution to be mailed to each person seeking nomination in a Democratic primary campaign.**8 468 Participation in Primary and Special Elections The deficit dispute was only one of several dam aging products of a senatorial primary, which began in tragedy, emotional turmoil, and public embarrassment and ended in acrimony and a further fractionalization of an already divided party. The beginning of this painful epi sode, as well as its official termination in the 1966 defi cit resolution, raised questions about an issue that has long been a focal point of controversy in California poli tics: the role of official party agencies in primary elec tions. The action of the executive committee at the start of the struggle over the United States senatorial nomina tion was a product of an extraordinary circumstance, the eventually fatal illness of the Democratic incumbent, Clair Engle. Although the situation was exceptional, the action taken by the committee was typical of its style of participation in primary campaigns: the committee issued a statement whose meaning was less ambiguous than its lan guage. The executive committee has been generally reticent about primary election matters. Had Clair Engle not fallen ill, the committee would not have played any part in the primary, except perhaps to issue its usual laudatory reso- 469 lutions, praising the performance of Engle and other Demo cratic incumbents. When it was compelled, by unusual cir cumstances to participate in the maneuvers preceding this important primary, it did so with apparent reluctance. Its action was couched in equivocal terms but its main ef fect was unmistakable: the committee authoritatively, but unofficially, signaled to Senator Engle that he was to be denied party support for his candidacy and to senatorial aspirants that their participation in the primary would be welcomed. The immediate stimulus for the committee's action was the refusal of an obviously incapacitated Senator to withdraw from the 1964 primary. In September, 1963, rumors began to circulate that Engle, who had undergone brain sur gery in August, had an inoperable tumor and would be unable to run for reelection.119 After Engle formally announced his candidacy, a number of party leaders visited him in Washington. State Chairman Eugene Wyman, Northern Chairman Roger Kent, and National Committeeman Elizabeth smith Gatov, with the concurrence of Governor Brown, issued a joint statement indicating that they had informed Engle t that he would have "unified" party support oniy if he made 119 Mimeographed copy of resolution adopted by the executive committee, February 26, 1966. There are no min utes available for this meeting, and press accounts do not mention the resolution, possibly because the growing con troversy about the CDC was considered to be niece newsworthy 470 a complete disclosure of his medical records.120 The group "suggested" that such information be made available at the January meeting of the executive committee, "so that a broad-based party group can analyze the situation and all available evidence concerning it."121 In addition to this collective statement, Hyman, Brown, Gatov, and other party leaders individually expressed their doubts that the Sena tor would be well enough to campaign.122 Two days before the executive committee meeting, Engle's personal physician released a general announcement that the Senator's condition was "improving" and that he would be able to campaign and to fulfill the duties of his office.12^ xhe doctor refused to give further details con cerning his patient's health. After a hurried conference, Hyman, Kent, and Gatov issued another joint statement, say ing that the doctor's "opinion" would be presented to the executive committee.124 It was clear that the doctor's report fell far short of what the party leaders had requested. Governor 120 Owens, op. cit., p. 9. 121 * Los Angeles Times, January 12, 1964. 122 Ibid. 123Ibid., January 10, 12, and 15, 1964. 12 4 Los Angeles Herald Examiner, January 23, 1964. 471 Brown openly voiced his dissatisfaction and invited "all of 125 the candidates [to] get into the race now." The executive committee held a genuinely closed "closed" meeting on January 25, 1964. After what was des- cribed as "an hour of reasonably calm discussion," it issued a statement whose language was sidely interpreted as a denial of support to Engle and as a left-handed invita tion to other candidates to enter the race: It is not the Executive Committee's function to pass judgment on this [medical] information or to determine who should or should not declare for public office. We believe that we have met our obligations both to the public and to our Party. Now we believe it is within the spirit of the Dem ocratic process that the public should appraise the qualifications of all candidates who shall seek the Democratic nomination for United States Senator.127 The significant ambiguities of this statement lay in both its source and its language. The action of the committee was unofficial in the sense that the committee did not have the legal authority either to promote or to prevent a primary candidacy. In intent, if not in commis sion, the action may be construed as a violation, or at least an evasion, of the 1963 law, discussed in Chapter II, 125Ibid. 126Ibid. 127Los Angeles Times, January 26, 1964. 472 which prohibited official party committees from endorsing, supporting, or opposing any candidate for the party's nomination. Although the action was unofficial and, possi bly, illegal, it was also authoritative in the sense that it was widely interpreted to represent the position of the Democratic party. The statement constituted a collective and authoritative ratification of a judgment previously made and acted upon by most top party leaders, including a few who were not yet ready to admit it. The temporizing language of the statement was ap- parently designed to convey, in softened tones, a harsh reality and, in a sense, to minimize a burden of guilt by disbursing it. Before the precarious state of Engle's health became known, there was no doubt that he would re ceive the united aapport of the party and, consequently, would face no serious opposition in the primary* When the severity of the Senator's condition became apparent, the party had a choice between unpalatable alternatives: to bear a campaign liability in the form of an incapacitated candidate or to accept some blame for "ganging up" on a sick man, whose doctor said that he was recuperating, in order to force him out of the race. Senator Engle's deter mination to run made it virtually impossible to plaster a reputable public facade on this cruel dilemma. Without some unofficially official authorization, potentially 473 strong aspirants for the nomination could not announce their candidacies without appearing to be so callous as to allow overweening personal ambition to trample sympathetic concern for the Senator's health. One effect of the statement was to allow prospec tive candidates to enter the race in the least unseemly fashion. Perhaps another was SOoslide the blame for deny ing party support to the ailing Senator and forcing him to face primary opposition from the shoulders of an identi fiable party leader or bcoup of leaders to a faceless col legial body. The executive committee eased the burden by collectivizing it. The committee's action was unique in that it invi ted candidates to oppose a Democratic incumbent. A perusal of the committee's minutes from 1956 through 1966 and of press clippings for the same period indicates that there was no precedent for such behavior. The action was rare in that the committee has seldom taken any public position in a primary campaign. It was unusual, although neither unique nor rare, in that it was an evasion, if not a vio lation, of the law. Prior to 1963, the Election Code was silent with respect to the power of official party organizations to make preprimary endorsements, to provide other forms of assistance to candidates in primary election campaigns, and 474 to oppose candidates for the party's nomination. The mii*- utea of the executive committee from 1956 through 1966 in dicate that the committee made explicit endorsements of candidates for elective office, outside of general election campaigns, but all of these were in special elections. Two aspects of the committee's role in primaries require some attention here. One is why the executive committee refrained from making preprimary endorsements be fore it was explicitly forbidden from doing so. The other coDcexrns the actual involvement of the executive committee and state committee officers and staff personnel in pri maries, before and after 1963. Until 1963, when the legislature banned preprimary endorsements by official party committees, the role of the executive committee and other official bodies in primary elections was clouded by legal ambiguities. Remarks made in the executive committee prior to 1963 confirmed the view expressed by members in informal conversations— i.e.— that the committee was legally barred from making endorsements and from furnishing other forms of assistance to candidates in any but special election and general election campaigns. At a meeting in January, 1960, for example, Southern Chair man Munnell explained why funds held in the Democratic state campaign account would not be spent until the general election campaign: "Since by law the State Committee may 475 not make preprimary endorsements, these campaign funds may 12 B not be disbursed until after the primaries." Another chairman took a similar view of the en dorsement powers of the committee. In 1945, the state cen tral committee "formally mentioned" Attorney General Robert Kenny and United States Senator Sheridan Downey as "proper candidates" to oppose Earl Warren in 1946. State Chair man William Malone ruled that the committee did not have 129 the power to make such an endorsement. Notwithstanding such views, there is evidence, al beit scant and scattered, that official party bodies, at both the state and county levels, made preprimary endorse ments before 1963. Ronald Chinn recorded, for example, that, in 1922, the state committee issued a "suggested" list of candidates for all partisan offices except that of 130 governor. Moreover, in 1924, the committee endorsed the McAdoo slate for the Democratic delegation to the national convention.Dean R. Cresap reported that about twenty- five percent of the county central committees endorsed can- 1211 Minutes of Executive Committee Meeting, January 25, 1964. 129 Minutes of Executive Comhittee Meeting, January 10-11, 1960. 130 Chinn, op. cit., p. 139. 13IIbid., p. 16. 476 didates for the 1950 primary elections.133 He further noted that the Republican state central committee held a preprimary meeting in April, 1950, for the purpose of en dorsing a slate of candidates for statewide off ice. 133 In none of these instances, did legal questions prevent pri mary endorsements. Paradoxically, the view that the Elections Code barred preprimary endorsements led to attempts by the ex ecutive committee to skirt what was apparently considered to be the law. At a meeting in January, 1960, for example, it used an "appreciative" or "congratulatory" ploy. When a membet announced that James Corman had decided to run for Congress, the committee voted to "commend James Corman for his courage and to wish him well in his campaign."13* Southern Chairman Munnell added his congratulations and stated that "while the state committee is precluded by law from making an endorsement at this time, appreciation should be extended to Jim Corman for being willing to be the standard bearer in this difficult race."135 Another form of circumvention has been the "en- 132Ibid., p. 21. 133Cresap, op. cit., p. 85. 134Ibid., pp. 84-85. 135Minutes of Executive Committee Meeting, January 10-11, 1960. 477 couragement" ploy. Both before and after 1963, for example the committee attempted to bypass imagined and real legal barriers to endorsements by "urging" Governor Brown to run for reelection and pledging itself to build the campaign 136 apparatus required for his success. The committee also "urged" the Governor to head a favorite son delegate slate in the 1960 presidential primary.137 It should also be noted that, with or without any intent to evade legal bar riers to primary endorsements, the executive committee seldom meets during or between campaign seasons, without passing resolutions extolling the accomplishments of Demo cratic incumbents. Writing in 1961, Leonard Rowe indicated that the confusion about the legal status of preprimary endorsements by official party agencies derived from the fact that the law neither explicitly authorized nor prohibited such en dorsements.13* * The ambiguity of the law was compounded by conflicting legal opinions based on different interpreta tions of statutory statements of the powers and duties of 136Ibid. 137Minutes of Executive Committee Meetings, Decem ber 8, 1962; December 5, 1964. 13®Minutes of Executive Committee Meetings, Janu ary 10-11, 1960. 478 139 official party committees. The language of these pro visions contained no mention of endorsements or other forms of assistantce to candidates in primary campaigns, so any application of the law would have to be made by impli cation. 140 In 1952, Attorney General Brown ruled that a state central central committee (or its executive committee) could not, as an entity, elect or support a slate of dele- 141 gates in a contested presidential primary. The opinion was based on the Gode provision that the state committee "shall conduct party campaigns... in behalf of the candi dates of its party."142 The Attorney General reasoned that the mandate to conduct campaigns for the party implied a prohibition from conducting campaigns within the party:143 Statutory authority to conduct party campaigns for party candidates necessarily excludes commit tee intervention among several contending primary election candidates or groups of candidates with in the party. In the very nature of things such 139Leonard Rowe, Preprimary Endorsements in Cali fornia Politics (Berkeley: Bureau of Public Administra tion, University of California, 1961), pp. i-ii, 5. 140Ibid. 141Ibid.T p. 6. 142Ibid., p. 7. 143Election Code (1964), sec. 8231 (renumbered 8777 in 197TT 479 intervention can only render the committee impo tent to fulfill the very duties which section 2829 imposes upon. Intervention on behalf of an unsuccessful primary election candidate can only result in a loss of mutual support and coopera tion as between the committee, on the one hand, and the successful candidate and his adherents, on the other. Rather than turn to the committee which opposed him before the primary, the party's candidate will turn elsewhere for support. Par ty factionalism and strife are engendered.*44 In 1954, the Attorney General extended the implied prohi bition to preprimary endorsements by county central commit- The opinion of the Attorney General was, however, contradicted by the Legislative Counsel in 1952. The Leg islative Counsel, in reply to a question concerning the authority of county committees to endorse candidates for the primary, formulated a proposition which seemed to ap ply to the state central committees. He held that "a po litical party has certain inherent powers which it may exercise unless prohibited by statute or constitutional pro* visions. "H® The transfer of the power to nominate candi dates from the party convention to the electorate, which was brought about by the direct primary law, was not in- 144Rowe, op. cit., p. 7. 145lbid. 146Ibid., p. 6. 480 consistent with preprimary activity by statutory commit tees. Nor was there anything in the election laws incon sistent with such activity.1*7 The legislative Counsel's opinion was upheld in the only court decision concerning the question. In I960, the Los Angeles Superior Court refused to enjoin to the Los Angeles Democratic County Committee from endorsing a candi date for the party's nomination for an assembly district 148 seat. The court's decision was confined to the endor sing powers of county committees, but its logic applied to similar activities by state committees. While the court admitted that "the direct primary system might be mofe 'di rect' if central committees did not or could not make pre primary endorsements," it held that "such legislation must 149 originate in the legislature, not in the courts." The court contended that it was not within its province "to insert into the statutes provisions neither contained or necessarily implied therein."*5* * The opinion of the Attorney General, quoted above, did point to some realities of the political situation 147 Ibid., p. 8. 148Ibid. 149Ibid., p. 9. 150Ibid. 481 which, even in the absence of any legal question, might have discouraged the state committee and its executive committee from making endorsements in primary contests. Even before the abolition of cross-filing aggravated ques tions concerning the efficacy of preprimary endorsements per se, such endorsements by official state organizations, woefully lacking in financial or other resources, were of doubtful value. Since candidates in California have characteristically developed their own campaign organiza tions, state committee endorsements, unaccompanied by sub stantial assistance in the form of money or workers, might not have discouraged other candidates from entering the primary. Indeed, cross-filed Democrats might have found a party endorsement a handicap in securing the Republican nomination, although Democratic challengers, seeking to capitalize on their party's registration advantage, might have found endorsements helpful. Even the elimination of cross-filing and the marked improvement in the state committee's financial resources did not invalidate the Attorney General's point concerning the divisive effect of a state committee endorsement. Should the committee endorse an unsuccessful candidate in a primary contest, it might very well be precluded from performing any part of its legally prescribed task of con ducting a campaign for the nominee. It is reasonable to 482 expect that the state committee would be persona non grata with the effective party organization in the successful candidate's district. This, however, may be considered a moot point because neither the state committee nor its executive committee, as entities, actually conduct party campaigns, although the state committee does contribute to them. It may be however, that the executive committee's abstention from making explicit and official endorsements in primaries was based on a situational assessment similar to that outlined in the opinion of the Attorney General. The 1960 court decision was one factor which in creased the necessity of a legislative clarification of the legal status of endorsements by official party committees. A more important factor spurring legislative action on the subject of preprimary endorsements per se was the desire of many incumbents to weaken the effectiveness of endorsements by unofficial party groups. As noted in the legislative answer to the endorse ment question, enacted in 1963, was a combination of two main elements. One was prohibition of primary endorsements by official party agencies. The other was a requirement that an unofficial party organization making such endorse ments display on its literature a disclaimer, stating that its endorsements are unofficial and that preprimary en dorsements by official party organizations are illegal. 483 Although some official committees at the county level had been making explicit endorsements of candidates in primary elections, most were not. The state committee and its executive committee had already accepted the view that they were legally barred from such endorsement activ ities. Consequently, the legislative prohibition only con firmed generally existing practice. The legislative set tlement of the endorsement question, however, was not an absolute preventative to the coy evasions of the law, in which the executive committee had engaged before there was any law. As was noted in Chapter II, the 1963 "Truth in En dorsements" law was an amended version of Assembly Bill 1922. The original bill had contained a provision, con spicuously absent from the final version, which would have prohibited the officers, staff and agents of official party committees from acting in any way to aid or oppose a candi date in a primary for partisan office. The enactment of this provision would have cemented in to law a principle which has been honored in theory and violated in practice. Party officials have paid public hommage to the principle of neutrality at the same time that they add members of their staffs were participating in primary election cam paigns. While it is clear that state committee officers 484 have played a part in statewide primaries, it is difficult to generalize about, or document descriptions of, their role. One source of difficulty is the fact that chairmen do pay lip service to the neutrality principle, even while they are acting, often behind the scenes, in contravention of it. Their public statements and other actions are some* times deliberately ambiguous. When they do articulate a public position, it sometimes conflicts with what is tacit ly understood to be their actual position. Another problem is posed by a scarcity of reliable evidence combined with a limited number of cases in varying circumstances. Sub ject to these qualifications, a few general comments may be made about the participation of state committee chairmen (or section chairmen) in statewide primaries. One is that a state committee chairman, as well as the executive committee, usually supports Democratic incum bents seeking renomination.If state committee officers oppose the incumbent, their position is likely to be ex pressed through inaction or subtle harrassment rather than through public attacks. When the party is relatively united behind a given primary candidate, whether he is an incumbent or not, the 151Ibid. Rowe predicted that if the legislature continued its silence on the matter of endorsements, the court decision would prevail. 485 chairman's assistance usually takes two major forms. One is that of publically praising the candidate and critici zing his probable Republican opponent. If the primary is contested, the chairman seldom attacks, or even mentions, the other candidates. The major exception to this general ization, in the period covered by this study, was State Chairman Robert Coate's public attack on Samuel Yorty, who challenged Governor Brown's renomination in 1966.152 The other form of support involves preprimary prep arations to raise money and to maximize Democratic regis- ■ - tration. Such preparations may be made without obvious prejudice to the interests of an "outsider" who is chal lenging a party favorite when they begin the year preceding the election year and/or before candidacies are announced. The closer to the date of a contested primary election, the more likely it is that the chairman's activities will be questioned the basis of the neutrality principle. Early in 1966, Coate apparently allowed prejudical use to be made of print-out sheets identifying unregistered voters in Los Angeles, which had been compiled, as a non- 153 partisan service, by the Pacific Telephone Company. The ^^2The Engle case was an obvious exception. 1 ! >3Coate publically criticized Yorty several times. On one occasion, he accused the Los Angeles Mayor of trying to ride President Johnson's coattails into the governor ship. The accusation was made under the state committee's 486 Republican's set of sheets were delivered, on instructions from State Chairman Gaylord Parkinson, to the Republican county committee. The Democrats' set was not delivered to either the county committee or the southern section of the state committee. Instead, Coats authorized their delivery 154 to a member of Brown's campaign staff. Assemblyman Robert Horetti joined Samuel Yorty in reminding Coate that the state committee and its officers were prohibited "from 155 participating in state primary elections." He was par ticularly disturbed that some of the lists were eventually turned over to the CDC. Coate's unusual behavior in this instance was ap parently the product of having to function in the multi- factional environment of southern California, where offi cial party organs were not controlled by the Governor's friends. It is a tribute to the ambiguities of a chair man's primary election role that Coate, himself, viewed his letterhead and distributed by a pulicist working for the Brown campaign (see Los Angeles Times, April 5, 1966). 15*Personal observation at registration meeting, March 12, 1966. The lists were part of a program conducted by the California Non-Partisan Voter Registration Commit tee, Inc., whose seven-member board of directors included the state chairman of each party (see Los Angeles Times, March 13, 1966). 155personal observation; Los Angeles Times, March 13, 1966. 487 proper position as that of neutrality: he promised to be neutral toward all primary candidates except one:*'®® A second fairly safe generalization is that, in the absense of a Democratic incumbent, chairmen may take part in important maneuverings, which often begin long be fore the primary campaign gets under way. The nature of his participation phrase varies. He may actively recruit a candidate, as State Chairman George Miller did in the case of Richard Graves for the gubernatorial nomination in 1954.*57 He may attempt to block a candidacy which he and his allies consider undesirable, as Oliver J. Carter did with respect to James Roosevelt's candidacy for the guber- 158 natorial nomination in 1950. The chairman may also act as a mediator to encourage factions to agree on a candidate in order to avoid a divisive primary or, if major conten ders are determined to run, he may try to negotiate agree ments which minimize damage to the victor and to the par- ty.159 Beyond these observations, each region has exhibi ted some peculiarities of primary participation. In the Angeles Herald Examiner, March 13, 1966. *57In a speech delivered in San Bernardino ( San Bernardino Telegram, April 21, 1966). *5®Chinn, op. cit., p. 152. 159ibid. 488 north, intraparty unity allowed considerable fluidity in the movement of sSaff and other resources between official and unofficial party organizations and between the state committee and campaigns, both primary and general.The flow of resources was unobstructed by the neutrality prin ciple, although there were some refined gestured toward ob serving its nicities. In 1958, for example, the slate mailers for both the primary and general elections were prepared in the same place by the same individual. How ever, the mailer was issued, in the primary, under the auspices of the CDC and, in the general election, under the auspices of the state committee. ^ Another northern practice was that of farming out state committee staff members to work in campaigns well be fore the primaries. In election years, the operating bud get of the state committee usually declined because staff members went Hon leave" to serve in campaigns, which paid their salaries until after the general election. The most notable example was that of Don Bradley, who, in nonelec tion years, served as the state committee's executive Instate Chairman Eugene Wyman evidently had a mediative role in the 1964 United States senatorial pri mary. m 161 Interviews with Don Bradley, October 12, 1961; and (by telephone) with Bernard Teitelbaum, Hay 17, 1961. 489 secretary. Bradley went on leave to manage the statewide Stevenson campaign in 1956 and to manage Clair Engle's 162 United States senatorial campaign in 1958. The year be fore the gubernatorial campaigns of 1962 and 1966, Bradley was on leave, in southern California, as director of the "Democratic Coordinating Committee," which laid the ground work for Governor Brown's reelection campaigns. In southern California, rampant multi-factionalism complicated and clouded the role of state committee offi cers and staff in aiding primary election candidates. Wo related factors had the greatest impact on the southern section's behavior. One was the Brown-Unruh split. The other was the fact that from 1960 through 1966, southern section chairmen (or state chairmen) were, at least at the time that they took office, Unruh allies. Moreover, al most all of the state committee staff in this period was recruited from the Speaker's followers. Although the schism between the state's two most important Democrats originated as early as 1962, it was covered by a more or less thin veil of public civility until 1964. Consequen- 162Dickson May, "How to Win California Elections" (a term paper written at the University of California, Berkeley, 1959), p. 73. May served on the northern section staff. ^^Interview with Don Bradley, October 12, 1961. 490 tlyf from 1962 until 1984, the southern sectlom and its officers exhibited a relatively "normal" pattern of prepri mary incumbent support by raising money and by praising President Johnson, United States Senator Clair Engle, and other officeholders who were due to run in 1964. In 1965 and 1966 the complexity and ambiguity of the southern section's preprimary behavior were compounded by the ebb and flow of the now bitter and public breach between the Governor and the Speaker. The actions of the southern chairman reflected the serpentine course of inters necine warfare. In February, 1966, for example, Mrs. Warshaw gree ted Governor Brown's announcement of his candidacy for re- election as "welcome news for all Califosnians," who she claimed, "want to see Pat Brown continue the effective leadership he has provided for our state over the past sev en years*"1®* This warm response was evidently one product of the flimsy truce established between Brown and Unruh by the middle of 1965 and of the Governor's premise to support Mrs. Warshaw's bid for the state chairmanship.1€5 As the year wore on, the fabric of peace wore thin, Unruh's com- 164Ibid*, personal observation. 155Mimeographed copy of press release issued by the southern section's public affairs department, February 1, 1966. 491 roltment to support the Governor and the Governor's commit ment to support Mrs. Warshsw grew more uncertain and Mrs. Warshew's welcome cooled. The waning of Mrs. Warshaw's enthusism for Governor Brown's candidacy was accompanied by increasing public devotion to the neutrality principle. In March, 1966, the southern chairman announced > that she would vote for Brown, but she could not help him because the Elections Code prohibited the state committee and its officers from making preprimary endorsements.166 This was interpreted as something less than a wholehearted expression of commitment by the Governor's supporters. The^statement, and the circumstances that led up to it, help explain why the southern section was only marginally involved in the registration program discussed above. Some anomalous aspects of the southern section's behavior indicated that the Elections Code was not the paramount obstacle to assisting the Governor in the pri mary. One was that the "Legislative Campaign Committee" had been operating in the southern section headquarters since the summer of 1965. One function of the committee was to "assist Democratic incumbents in preparing for next years's elections."167 The committee was financed primar ily by funds raised by Jesse Unruh, but the state committee ^®®Los Angeles Times, July 13, 1965; January 4, 1966* 163 A#7Wbdd., March 11, 1966. 492 did contribute to its expenses with proceeds from its Cali fornia Factbook and from special fund-raising events.*®® The southern section also aided incumbent congressmen through its Congressional Ball and Aerospace Symposium in April of 1966.*®® A second anomoly was the southern section's an nouncement that it was arranging an itinerary of speaking engagements for Lloyd Hand shortly before he announced his primaxy challenge to Lieutenant Governor Glenn Anderson.*7® Although Hand was not yet an officially announced candidate it was widely assumed that he would run. The speaking tour was eventually cancelled.*7* A third was that the southern section's executive secretary was permitted to retain his interest in a public relations firm representing Lloyd Hand and the primary election challenger to Democratic Congressman George Brown, 16 8 Carmen Warshaw, "A Report to the Democratic State Central Committee of Southern California,"*June 5, 1965 (Mimeographed.) 16 9 Interviews with Jesse Unruh, June 4, 1971; and Carmen Warshaw, August 31, 1970; Carmen Warshaw, "A RBport to the Members of the Democratic State Central Committee of Southern California," December 4, 1965. (Mimeographed.) *7®Caxmen Warshaw, "A Report to Members of the Democratic State Central Committee of Southern California," June 11, 1966. (Mimeographed.) l^Los Angeles Herald Examiner, January 3, 1966. 493 Jr., who had feuded with Unruh and Mrs. Warshaw.172 In view of these circumstances, it is ironic, but not surprising, that the spring, 1966, edition of the southern section's quarterly newsletter prominently fea tured the following disclaimer: Under California's election laws the Democra tic State Central Committee is prohibited from endorsing or assisting any candidates involved in primary elections. State Committee officers, as representatives of the official party, are similarly prohibited from acting in primary campaigns. Any State Com mittee member, as an individual, can endorse can didates or participate in a primary campaign. During the primary campaign, the State Com mittee will remain completely neutral in all Democratic primary races. 73 One page of this issue was entirely devoted to photographs of incumbent Democratic congressmen, many or most of whom faced contested primaries, accompanied by an article prais ing their accomplishments and announcing that they would be 174 honored at the upcoming Congressional Ball. The participation of state committee officers in 172 Mimeographed copy of press release issued by the southern section's public affairs department, February 10, 1966. Personal observation; Long Beach Press Telegram, April 27, 1966. 17*Democratic State Central Committee, Southern California Democratic Report. 3 (Spring, 1966), p.3. 494 primary election, including that which takes the form of a virtuous invocation of the neutrality rule, is a matter of expediency rather than of adherence to statute, principle, or some fixed, clear, and widely shared view of the proper role of official party organizations and their agents. Legal barriers, whether real or imagined, have not been insurmountable obstacles to the participation of state com mittee officers and staff, even in contested primaries. They have had inhibitory effects on the style of participa tion. The view that the Elections Code prohibits state committee officers from supporting or opposing primary election candidates results, not in effective neutrality, but in contrived ambiguities, symbolic gestures, and coy evasions. What the conventional perception of the legil prohibitions usually prevents is conspicuous involvement in activities that are blatantly favorable or prejudicial to a particular primary' candidate, especially during an elec tion year, ironically, one effect of the law on political practice is that pious public fealty to the neutrality principle, when used to justify inaction, is tacitly but widely understood to signal a state committee officer's opposition to a primary candidate who is an incumbent or a party favorite. The nature of primary campaign participation by state committee officers is conditioned by several factors, 495 in addition to the convention of trying to avoid the appear ance of violating the neutrality rule. These include the incumbency factor, whether the primary is contested, the perceived "seriousness" of an "outsider's" challenge to a party favorite, where the officer add the candidates stand amidst the network schisms that fragment the Democratic party, and regional differences in leadership cohesion, operational codes, and the relationship between the state committee and other party organizations and public office holders. Both sections, openly or covertly, violate the neutrality principle, but they do so in different ways. Another law, passed in 1963, did affect the role of the executive committee and state committee officers in the electoral process by adding a primary to what had previous ly been a "one-shot" special election procedure.175 This amendment to the Code placed some inhibitions on the for merly unfettered special election participation of the ex ecutive committee and its officers through official en dorsements, money, and staff assistance. Since 1963, spe cial election participation has generally been confined to building up registration, individual (and unofficial) in volvement by executive committee members and officers, and sometimes substantial assistance, after the primary, in the 175Ibid., p. 4. 496 form of money, staff, and other resources. From 1953 until the 1963 law went into effect, northern state committee officers and staff played an es** pecially active, visible and effective part in special election campaigns. In the 1961 legislature, of seven Democratic state senators who had originally won their seats in special elections, Don Bradley, northern executive secretary, had managed the campaigns of six. In all seven of the special elections, plus three for assembly district seats, two of which were in southern California, and one for a northern congressional seat, the northern section made substantial contributions in the form of professional staffing (in addition to Bradley), money and services, such as mailings and the recruitment of precinct workers^-7® Southern state committee participation, during the same period, was limited by disunity and by unreliable and of ten nonexistent financial and personnel resources.177 As noted above, before the 1963 law, the executive coamhittee also participated in special elections with en dorsements , which were frequently accompanied by monetary contributions. In the incomplete set of minutes available 176Cal. Stats. (1963), sec. 2003. 177 May, op. clt., pp. 26-52, updated by personal observation and by Interviews with Roger Kent, August 8, 1961; and Don Bradley, October 12, 1961. 497 for the period between 1957 and the middle of 1963, the executive committee endorsed at least five special election candidates, took on-the-spot collections for them, which netted up to about $500, and authorized allocations from state committee funds for their campaigns.1^8 Relations with Other Party Organizations The state committee's "By-laws" designate the state committee, and, by delegation of authority, the executive committee, the "official governing body of the Democratic party of California as provided in the Elections Code of 179 the State of California." In fact, however, the Code does not appoint any single agency as the party's govern ing body. Its sole mandate to the state committee is "to conduct party campaigns: and "to appoint committees and... campaign directors and perfect whatever campaign organiza tions it deems suitable or desirable and for the best in- 178 The years between 1961 and 1963 provide too^few cases of special elections to sppport reliable description of the role of the southern section in this brief period between the emergence of the southern state committee as a substantial entity and the passage of the 1963 law. 179 Minutes of Executive Committee Meetings, June 15, 1957 (probable date of rough draft); March 3, 1959; October 24-25, 1959; December 8, 1962; and a copy of a mimeographed notice sent under the letterhead of the Demo cratic State Central Committee, May 24, 1963. 498 180 terests of the party." There are only three other statutory provisions concerning the state committee's relationships with other party agencies. One is the vague commission to the county committees that they "shall have charge of the party cam paign under the general direction of the state central committee or of the executive committee...1,181 a second prohibits any unofficial organization which includes, as part of its name, the name of a legally qualified party from soliciting funds without written consent from one of several official agents, including the executive committee or the chairman of the state committee.182 The third is a provision of the "Truth in Endorsements" Act, which de clares that "the state convention, state central committee, and the county central committee in each county are the official governing bodies of a party qualified to partici pate in the direct primary election. The next sentence prohibits these bodies from supporting or opposing candidates 180"By-laws" (1965), sec. 2. ^8*Elections Code (1964) , sec. 82 31 (renumbered 8777). *82Ibid.. sec. 8440 (renumbered 8940). 183Ibid», sec. 12057 (renumbered 12301). The other agents are the national committeeman or committeewoman from California, the executive committee of the appropriate county committee, or the chairman and secretary of the county committee if it has no executive committee. 499 in partisan primaries. The Code does not stipulate what "governing" means. There is no clear definition, provided in law, party rules, or custom, of the state (or executive) com mittee's relationships with other party elements: county committees, California's national convention delegation and national committee members, the party-in-government, or ex tralegal organizations. Neither the executive committee or any other party agency is recognized as having the author ity to make rules governing the actions of or the relations among sub-units of the party. What is loosely referred to as "the pyramidal structure" of the party has no apex. The lack of clearly delineated allocations of au thority and responsibility within the party structure was reflected in the great diversity of and lack of consensus among, the responses of congressional co-chairmen to open- ended questions designed to elicit information about or ganizational perceptions and role expectations. The re sponses to these questions were too variegated, often too brief and incomplete, sometimes too general and vague, and occasionally insufficiently intelligible to permit precise classification and tabular presentation. The analysis of these responses involved a conscientous attempt to ascer tain as accurately as possible, the specific content of each answer and a recording of impressions of discernible 500 response patterns. This impressionistic approach does per mit some suggestive, albeit tentative and imprecise, gen eralizations about response trends. Of the 98 individually discernable references made in answer to a question about the "main function" of the 1 Rl state committee, ° about 34 percent were to intra-organi- zational functions. These included references to helping or supervising local organizations, intraparty communica tion and coordination, organizational development, main taining harmony or unity, and generalized comments about "leadership" and "policy-making."1®5 About 43 percent re lated to electoral functions, generally in terms of ser vices to campaigns or candidates. The highest percentage of references was to fund-raising. A different pattern appeared in answers to a rela-- ted question about the "main job" of the state chairman. The responses strongly emphasized organizationally-oriented administrative and leadership functions. About 54 per- 184 Ibid., sec. 8602 (renumbered 11702). Includes only those functions or activities which were mentioned at least twice. There were thirteen references which were mentioned only once or were too vague to classify. 186 "Policy-making" in this case was not mentioned in connection with public issued. Eight references were made to articulating positions on issues. 501 187 cent of 109 individual references fell within this gen eral category; while only 33 percent related to electoral roles. Once again, however, fund-raising was the roost frequently mentioned task.188 The co-chairman's perceptions of their own role also contained some implications for the relationship be tween the executive committee and other organization ele ments. Of the 98 individual references made in response to a question about the "main job" of a congressional co- chairman,188 about 37 percent were to the receipt and transmission of information and to coordination and liai son functions. There were six references to executive committee membership and/or attendance at state committee meetings. The remaining references were to district-orient ed electorally— or organizationally— related functions. About 43 percent of the responses may be interpreted as being oriented, at least in part, to the executive commit- 187Administrative functions included organizing and coordination and communication. Leadership functions included references to direction, supervision, goal-setting and inspiration, party "spokesman," unifying, and mediating among facitions. 188Includes only those functions which ware mem- tioned at least twice. Fourteen references were mentioned only once or were too vague to classify. 188In the case of the state committee, 22.9 percent of the co-chairmen mentioned fund-raising. Thirty-five (35.4) percent of the co-chairman mentioned fund-raising as one of the main jobs of the state chairman. 502 tee, and a little over a third suggested that co-chairmen have an integrative role between state and local organiza tional elements. The responses of co-chairmen to questions concern ing the responsibilities of state organizational elements and their own role as related to these elements exhibited threat diversity rather than a pattern of consensus or con sistent emphasis on a limited range of functions. The greatest consistency appeared in the high frequency of references to fund-raising for both the state committee and 191 the state chairman. Given the vagueness of provisions concerning the powers and duties of the state committee in both the Elections Code and the committee's own rules, it is not surprising that co-chairmen did not possess a clear and widely-shared perception of the role of the state com mittee . Moreover, only a few co-chairmen perceived the state committee or its chairman has having any "governing" role in the sense of providing a source of leadership or 190 Includes only those functions which were men tioned three or more times. Sixteen references were men tioned only once or were too vague to classify. Three people refered to problems of role definition, and one did not answer the question. 191The "By-laws* [(1965), sec. 17] give an extreme ly vague description of the "responsibilities" of co-chair men : that they Mshall carry out the policies and programs of this 503 in the sense of directing, supervising, or making rules regulating the activities of other party sub-units. Notwithstanding the diversity and obscurity of organizational and role definitions and perceptions, the executive committee does occupy a unique position within the sprawling, loosely articulated, and often ephemeral structure of the Democratic party. It is the only offi cial statewide organization which regularly brings together representatives of all major segments of the party. It thus has a capability, possessed by no other statewide agency, for performing important coordinative functions. Coordination among official and unofficial, state and lo cal organizational elements does take place, often on an informal and ad hoc basis. The executive committee may as an instrument for regularizing mechanisms of cooperation, coordination, and integration by giving them cm official status. By virtue of its legal status, its composition, and the relative frequency of its meetings, the cmnmittee also has a unique potential for making authoritative decisions organisation in their respective Districts. They shall direct the Party campaigns in their respec tive Districts and shall co-operate with all other duly recognized Democratic Party Organiza tions therein." 504 192 about organizational affairs. As the committee's pecu liar role in the Engle affair suggested, even when it acts in matters beyond the scope of any powers it has under the law or party rules, its actions may be widely interpreted as representing the official collective position of the Democratic party. The pewer to amend the state committee's "By-laws" and, with the exception of congressional district representation, change its own composition gives the execu tive committee an additional means of influencing the ac tions of other organizational elements and of regulating organizational relationships. Aside from the instances mentioned in the preceding discussions of finance and primary and special election participation, the executive committee has not attempted to act as an authoritative arbiter of intra-organizational behavior and relationships. From time to time, it has made proforma gestures toward influencing other organizational elements, as it did in 1960, when it urged California's Democratic national convention delegation to support a strong civil rights plank, and, in 1964, when it urged the national delegation to vote to seat the Mississippi "Free- 192Cf. David K. Hart, "The Office of the Party County Chairman in California: A Study of Role Expecta tions" (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Clarement Graduate School, 1965), p. 166. 505 193 dam" delegation. Such resolutions, in no sense, consti- tuted "instructions." They were symbolic expressions of the Democratic party's commitment to civil.rights. Only once, in the period covered by this study, was a serious effort made to assert an authoritative governing role for the executive committee. The attempt occurred at the apogee of the conflict between the CDC and other seg ments of the party, initially with incumbent legislature and official party agencies in southern California and, eventually, with virtually all important party elements. After the passage of the "Truth in Endorsements" law in 1963, hostilities between CDC and the legislative faction led by Jesse Unruh and, in southern California, be tween CDC and official party organizations, which were dom inated by Unruh supporters, were intensified by several events and conditions, some of which have been discussed in Chapters II and IV. CDC's own left-wing, felt that the or ganization had been tamed by patronage, the brokerage role assumed by its leadership, and the smothering embrace of some of its friends among elected officials and gone too far in accommodating its issue positions to electoral stra 193"Authoritative" is used here in the psychologi cal sense suggested by David Easton, The Political System! An Inquiry into the State of Political Science (New York: Alfred X Knopf, Inc., 1953), pp. I!s2-133. 506 194 tegies. They began an effort to push the organization toward a more independent and aggressive posture vis-a-vis the party-in-government and official party organs. Their efforts gained impetus from events and conditions which further poisoned relationships between CDC and other seg ments of the party. The CDC was stung by the defeat of its endorsed candidate in the 1964 United States senatorial primary. The chairmanship of the southern state committee passed in to the hands of Carmen Warshaw, who was publically, explic itly, and persistently critical of CDC's endorsement activ ities and extreme issue positions.195 And the CDC became entangled in the acrimonious feud between the Governor Brown and Assembly Speaker Unruh. These factors heightened already intense feelings and undermined mutual accomoda tions, even in the limited areas in which cooperation was 194 Minutes of Executive Committee Meetings, March 19-20, I960) June 27, 1964. 1^5Such concerns were manifested even before the passage of the onerous 1963 law* See, for example, Mar shall Windmiller, "The Election and the Future of CDC," Liberal Democrat, December, 1962, pp. 5-7; Mike Miller, "How to Reach Voter," Liberal Democrat, January, 1963, pp. 8-9; and March Windmiller, "Further Reflections on CDC" Liberal Democrat, February, 1963, pp. 5-6. See also the Los Angeles Times, September 15, 1963; and September 16, 1963, for CDC's declaration of war on "bossism” and threats to purge Democratic incumbents deemed to have "bad voting records." 507 beneficial to all of the protagonists. Two sets of conditions combined to isolate CBC within the party structure and to alienate even its suppor ters among public officeholders and the leadership of the northern state committee. One was the breakdown of the make-shift relationships between CDC and other organiza tional elements, which had been forged in the early 1950's. The other was the Vietnam War. Prior to 1965, CDC's disagreements with other party elements had occasionally shaken, but had not severely dam aged, the network of informal arrangements which had inte grated the volunteer organization with the official party. These arrangements included the membership of state and county central comnittee members in assembly and congres sional district councils, the chartering of CDC-affiliated clubs by county conmittees, the provision of financial and other assistance to CDC clubs by county committees, and joint operation of the "Dollars Day" drives and other pro- 196 grams. In 1965, these integrative mechanisms began to dis- 196 Examples may be found in Mrs. Warshaw's address to the executive committee, March 6, 19651 (Mimeographed.) press releases attacking CDC president, Simon Casady, dated September 12, 1965; November 11, 1965; and February 15, 1966; (Mimeographed.) and Mrs. Warshaw's address to the ex ecutive committee, February 26, 1966. (Mimeographed.) 508 solve, especially in southern California. Conflicts over chartering procedures, which had been percolating relative ly quietly since 1963, intensified, in some cases, beyond the point of possible reconciliation. Early in the year, the Los Angeles County Democratic Central Committee, which had once been a bastion of CDC support, severed all ties with the volunteer organization.CDC officials had urged clubs not to comply with the county committee's char tering procedure. The county conmittee, in retaliation, ceased chartering and giving financial and other assistance to CDC-affiliated clubs, and terminated its practice of 198 sending representatives to CDC conventions. In August, CDC and official party agencies operated separate "Dollars 199 Day" drives in southern California. Signs of similar organizational disjunctions were evident in other southern counties, such as Riverside and San Bernardino, where state 197 See, for example, California Democratic Council, "The Clubs, the Council and forty Structure," Effective Club Leadershipi A Manual For Democratic Clubs (Los Angeles and San Francisco: California Democratic Council, 1963), pp. 21-24; and Charles Bell, "Democratic Party Or ganization in California," Presidents Manual for Democratic Clubs (Los Angeles: Los Angeles County Democratic Central Committee, 1959), pp. 5-6. The description of integrative linkages between CDC and the official party is based partly upon personal observation. 1 Q f l Los Angeles Herald Examiner, January 13, 1965t Los Angeles Timas, January 14, 1965. ^" los Angeles Herald Examiner, January 13, 1965. 509 and county committee members complained that CDC was posing as the authoritative representative of the entire Democra tic party and was collecting funds and conducting other activities, in the name of the party, without any authori zation from official party organizations.20® This intra-organizational strife over the distri bution of authority and responsibility intensified against the background of a temporary lull in the battle between Brown and Unruh and between the northern and southern sec tions of the state committee. The stage was thus set for an alliance against CDC between its long-standing enemies and its long-standing friends. The catalyst for the alli ance was CDC's opposition to the Democratic administra tion's policies in Vietnam, which mounted as the war esca lated, and the personal crusade, undertaken by the organi zation's newly elected president, Simon Casady,20* against the war and, with increasing vehemence, against President Johnson himself.202 By September, CDC's relationships with the party's 20QLo, Angeles Herald Examiner, January 13, 1965. 201 Riverside Enterprise, December 26, 1965; person al observation as secretary tothe election code reform committee, April 23, 1966. 202 *Casady was elected in March, 1965 (Los Angeles Times, March 22, 1965). 510 public officeholders and official organizations were In shreds. Within about six days, there was a three-pronged assault against Casady: the Democratic caucus in the state assembly urged the state committee to remove Casady from the executive OQnmittee; the Governor called upon Casady to resign from the presidency of CDC, and the executive com mittee passed a resolution supporting the Governor's de- . 203 mand. Under attack from virtually all segments of the party— state legislators; the congressional delegation; the Governor; Controller Alan Cranston, who had been one of the founders and the first president of CDC; both sections of the state committee; and several county committees— CDC was torn by internal dissension.204 The organization's board 203 The Editors of Ramparts, "Golly gee, California is a Strange State!" Ramparts, October, 1966, pp. 17-22. This article is heavily biased but, in many of its details, accurate. Within a little raeee than two weeks, CDC issued a resolution criticizing the administration's policies, and the executive committee £pased a resolution supporting them (Los Angelas Times, March 22, 1965; copy of resolution en titled "Foreign Policy," adopted by the executive committee March 6, 1965 [Mimeographed.] 204San Delgo Evening Tribune, September 22, 1965; Los Angeles Times, Septeml&er 17, 1965; end September 19, 1 « 5 . * ------------ During the same period, CDC's board of directors met to consider the Governor's demand. They eventually issued an ambiguous declaration which left the resignation decision to Casady's own conscience. Perhaps momentarily 511 of directors net in October, November, and December to con* eider the Casady problem amidst threats of defection from groups which opposed Casady and groups which supported him. At all three meetings, a majority of the directors voted to depose the president but fell short of a required two- thirds vote.2 Under these circumstances, it might be expected that the "governing body" of the Democratic party might feel compelled to sake some authoritative decisions about the role of volunteer groups and about the relationships between unofficial and official party organizations. It appeared that such decisions were imminent when State Chairman Robert Coate announced, in November, that the state central committee was "deeply involved" in the ques tion of "the future role of volunteer organizations in the 2 06 California Democratic Party." A committee was studying county committee chartering procedures; Coate had solicited the views of "several hundred Democratic leaders;" and nor thern and southern state committee officers had met to dis chastened by this expression of non-support, Casady prom ised to seek a reconciliation with the Governor ( Long Beach Press-Telegram, September 20, 1965). 205 Los Angeles Herald Examiner, November 14, 1965. 206Ibid., Los Angeles Times, November 12, 1965; San Diego Union, December, 13, 1965. 512 cuss organizational problems. "The State Central Commit tee," he asserted, "will develop ground rules for the com plex area of raising money or charging dues under the name 207 'Democrat.'" Coate's statement indicated that the state committee was about to assume an unprecedentedly assertive role in regulating iatra-organizational behavior and rela tionships. Instead, the actions of the executive committee followed a typical pattern of ambiguity, evasion, and equi vocation. In some ways, the behavior of the executive in this matter resembled that in the Engle affair. Party leaders signaled that the committee was about to take some definitive action. This was followed by the committee's abstention from any decisive act which might convey a clear intention, have concrete consequences, or conclusively set tle a dispute. The committee's behavior in this case had three noteworthy features. One is that the main effort to affect the CDC'a course of action took the form of a proposal to change the rules governing the executive conmtttee's compo sition. The second was the revival of the steering commit tee, which had been dormant since 1958t although its exis- 208 tence was provided for in the "By-laws." The third is 207 Copy of press release, November 18, 1965. (Ther mofaxed. ) 513 that the threat of an authoritative action by the committee may have contributed to the accomplishment of the primary objectives of at least some of the party leaders who insti gated the threat. Consequently, action by the conmittee was deferred indefinitely. Subsequent events diminished the salience of the CDC problem and rendered action by the executive committee unnecessary. At the December meeting of the executive committee, Trudy Owens, southern women's chairman and amember of the by-laws conmittee, announced that, at the request of mem bers of Governor Brown's staff, she planned to introduce a motion to amend the "By-laws" to remove the presidents of CDC and the California Federation of YOung Democrats from the executive committee. Chairman Coate asked her to withhold the motion, and she complied. Coate explained that this matter, along with other organisational ques tions, would be considered by the steering committee. This conmittee, whose thirty-two members include state commit tee officers and other top-level party leaders, was sche duled to hold two meetings in January and early February, It would report to the next meeting of the execu tive conmittee, which was scheduled at the end of February. The additional subjects to be reviewed by the steering com mittee were county committee chartering procedures, thh possibility of the state committee's assuming chartering 514 responsibilities, the solicitation of funds by organiza tions using the party's name, the allocation of "Dollars Day? funds, and other questions concerning the relation ships between official and unofficial organizations and, ultimately, the distribution of authority and responsibil ity within the party structure as a whole. The subcommittee studying county committee charter ing procedures, to which Coate had alluded in his November statement, did made a report at the December meeting. It found that there were wide variations in chartering prac tices and in the gegrees of control exercised by county committees over unofficial groups. The subcommittee recom mended that the executive committee establish minimum, uniform retirements, under which the county committees would charter clubs. No action was taken by the executive committee, purportedly because of the impending delibera tions of the steering committee. t Two events preceded the February meeting of the executive committee and influenced its outcome. One was the action of the steering committee, which held a two day "secret" meeting early in February.209 The committee voted to recommend the removal of the presidents of the CDC and the California Federation of Young Democrats from the exec 209 "By-laws" (1965), secs. 24-27. The steering com mittee will be discussed infra, chap. vii. 515 210 utive committee. Members of the committee were purportedly "sworn to complete secrecy so their action would not influence the outcome of [the CDC] convention,1 1 which was scheduled to meet on the weekend of February 19-20* There are two reasons to doubt that party leaders wanted the meeting to remain a secret and that they wanted to avoid influencing the actions of the CDC convention, whose agenda included, among other things, the problem of Simon Casady. One is that a notice of the meeting, along with copies of its recommendations, was sent to the approximately 173 members 211 of executive committee on February 16. Although the notice included an ddmonition to refrain from "engaging in public discussions," until the next executive committee meeting, it realistically contained no instructions to re frain from private discussions. Perhaps to insure that those attending the CDC convention would be aware of the secret actions of the steering committee, an account of its meeting was leaked to Barbara Reigle of the Los Angeles Herald Examiner and appeared in the February 20th edition 210 AXWThe account that follows is based upon personal observation at the executive committee meeting, December 4, 1965, supplemented by the Los Angeles Herald Examiner, December 5, 1965. 211 LosAnqelas Heraid Examiner, February 20, 1966} "Memo to DSCC Bsecutlve Committee Members," from Robert L. Coate, February 16, 1966. ( Thermotaxed.) 516 212 of that newspaper. The steering committee also formulated and distrib uted recommendations concerning chartering procedures which were designed to strengthen official party control over un official organizations at the local level. Informal ar rangements had allowed clubs which were affiliated with CDC or the Young Democrats to use the name of the party and to solicit funds without affiliating with any county commit tee. Under the steering committee's proposals, a club would have to obtain a county committee charter in order to bear the names "Democratic" or ^Democrat" and in order to solicit funds under that name.^^ The proposals also in cluded requirements that clubs would have to meetiin order to qualify for a charter, allowed county committees to make additional "reasonable" requirements, and outlined a proce- **^Los Angeles Herald Examiner, February 20, 1966; carbon copy of proposed amendment to the "By-laws," undated and unsigned. According to the account published in the Herald Examiner, Robert Coate had expressed uncertainty that the "original seating" of the representatives of volunteer groups had been legal because it was not provided for in the Elections Code. The statement was evidently an exer cise In obscurantism because, except for congressional dis trict representation, the Code has always been silent about the membership of the committee. 213 "Memo to DSCC Executive Committee Members," from Robert L. Coate, February 16, 1966. ( Thermofaxed.) This memorandum mentioned the enclosure of the recommendations and the agenda of the next executive committee meeting. 517 dure for appealing county committee decisions and require* ments which made the executive committee the final arbiter of chartering disputes. The second intervening event was the CDC conven tion, which convened the week before the executive commit tee was due to consider the steering committee's recommen dations. The CDC yielded to the demands that it force Simon Casady to resign, but that action and the events that led to it resulted in an "agonizing political ppectacle" 215 which left the organization in a shambles. The meeting was disrupted by noisy demonstrations and walkouts directed against Governor Brown and Controller Cranston and by choruses of boos which erppted whenever President Johnson's name was mentioned. Although the con vention did endorse Brown and Cranston, neither state Treasurer Bert Betts nor Attorney General Thomas Lynch sought or received an endorsement. For the nomination for attorney general, the convention endorsed Lynch's primary election challenger, William Bennett. The convention's resolution against the Vietnam war was couched in terms that were much stronger and more ex- 214 This conelusion is based on notes and memoranda contained in the southern section's files. 215 Copy of proposal entitled "Intra-County Organiza tions ," undated and unsigned. (Mimeographed.) 518 plicitly hostile to the Johnson administration than the re solution of 1965. And, in keeping with the convention's embittered and rebellious mood, Casady's successor, Gerald Hill, announced that the "vote against Si Casady was in no way a repudation of CDC's courageous stand against the war 216 in Vietnam." Governor Brown conceded that Hill might be even more "liberal" than Casady but said that Hill "is more discreet." Intense pressure from public officials, most nota bly from Brown and Cranston, combined with threats of ban ishment from the councils of the official state organiza tion and stronger controls over clubs by county committees supported by state committee sanctions, were major factors contributing to the removal of Simon Casady from the presi dency of CDC. They also ocntributed to the selection of a successor who, notwithstanding his militant pronouncements to his demoralized troops, was willing to patch up differ ences with other segments of the party in the face of an impending election.2^8 216«bid. 217 The account that follows relies heavily on Carl Greenberg's comprehensive account in the Los Angeles Times, February 21, 1966. Greenberg's impressions of the mood and ramifications of the convention, as well as his descrip* tions of specific events, were confirmed in informal con versations with party officials and staff members. 218Ibid. 519 The general tenor of the convention and the recrim inations that followed in its wake, however, raised the possibility that a divided and embittered CDC would contin ue to be troublesome to officeholders and official party organizations, while becoming less capable of making com pensative contributions of campaign services. A volunteer organization which was preoccupied with internal disputes and weakened by defections would be less able to threaten incumbents with serious primary election opposition and would present less of a challenge to the authoritative status of official organizations. Aside from such shifts in distributions of power and prestige, however, the out come of the convention did not solve the problems plaguing the relationships between unofficial organizations and other party elements and probably aggravated some of them. CDC's ideological extravagances had long been an irritant and an embarrassment to Democratic officeholders but were tolerated, perhaps because CDC leaders were close to or part of important segments of the party establishment. Former presidents, Joseph Wyatt and Thomas Carvey, ^Ad mo dulated the strident tones of their followers and had play ed a brokerage role between ideologically militant activists and electorally pragmatic officeholders. CDC's opposition to the Vietnam war transcended the limits of both forbearance and tampering. As the war es- 520 calated, so did the scope and militancy of CDC opposition to it. The initial reaction of officeholders and official party leaders to a growing awareness of war's divisive ef fects and potential dangers to the electoral fate of the Democratic party was to close ranks behind the president. They thus became increasingly sensitive to CDC's anti-war resolutions as a threat to the facade of solidarity they deemed necessary to political survival. The divisions within CDC and the disaffiliation of dissident factions were also likely to deepen schisms and create organizational disruptions throughout the structure of the party. Since there was considerable membership overlap between CDC and other elements of the party, dis putes within CDC were likely to have divisive reverbera tions in all segments of the party. Moreover, the disinte gration of CDC into a welter of smaller groups would add to organizational incoherence and to the difficulties of achieving coordination and cooperation among organizations at the local level. A proliferation of such splinter groups would make it even more difficult for official bodies to regulate the use of the party's name and the solicitation of funds and the conduct of other activities under that name. From at least the end of September, 1965, through February, 1966, state committee officers and other party 521 leaders had devoted considerable time and effort to study ing and developing proposals for ameliorating problems sur rounding the role of volunteer groups in the Democratic party. There was reason to believe that some of these problems would be even more pressing after the 1966 conven tion than they were before. However, when the executive committee met, one week after the CDC convention, it re frained from acting on, and from even considering, the recommendations of the steering committee. Apparently, the change of CDC's leadership. Brown's confidence in Hill's discretion, and Hill's promise to forgo divisive activities, at least until after the elec tion, satisfied the Governor and northern section leaders and sufficed to forestall further action by the executive 219 committee. chairman Coate deferred consideration of the steering committee's report until after Gerald Hill could 220 be present at a steering committee meeting. The steer ing committee, however, was not scheduled for another meet ing, and there is no evidence that it convened again. Gerald Hill adopted an accommodating posture at the executive committee meeting. He asked the committee to re- SflCVe judgment "until you see what we can do" and announced 21»n>id. 220 The Editors of Ramparts, op. cit., p. 19. Zt is ironic that Casady*s ascension to thepresidency of CDC was as an "establishment" candidate, who was promoted as a "safe" alternative to the more extreme Gerald Hill. 522 221 that "divisive activities are over." He also pledged CDC's full support for Governor Brown and for Democratic 222 state legislators and congressmen. Southern Chairman Carmen Warshaw was not appeased by the change in CDC's leadership or by Hill1s promise of support for the Democratic ticket. Her criticism of CDC grew out of a long-standing conviction that the role of liberal "conscience" of the party could not be conjoined 223 with preprimary endorsements without damaging the party. Democratic officeholders should not be put in the position of having to choose between taking unpopular stands on con troversial issues and facing primary election opposition from CDC-endorsed candidates. She contended that CDC, un restrained by the responsibility of enaeting public policies and winning and retaining electoral support, couid not be the spokesman of the Democratic party. The responsible and "official voice" of the party was that of Democratic office holders who were accountable to the electorate. 221 San Jose Mercury News, February 27, 1966. 222 Ibid.; fees Angeles Times, February 27, 1966. 223San Jose Mercury News, February 27, 1966; Los Angeles Tiroes, February 27, 1966. The suspension of divi sive activities applied only to 1966. The CDC convention in 1967 mandated Hill to call a special convention in Sep tember for the purpose of forming a delegate slate to op pose President Johnson in the 1968 presidential primary. Edmund G.IBrown announced that he would resign from CDC if it went through with the plan (Los Angeles Times, March 12, 1967; May 7, 1967). 523 Mrs. Warshaw tried to bring the steering commit tee 1s report to the floor but was overruled by Chairman Coate.22* The most she could extract from the executive committee was a watered down version of her resolution on preprimary endorsements. The executive committee adopted a statement, innocuously confirming that official party organizations are prohibited by law from making preprimary endorsements, reaffirming its faith in the open primary system, and urging Democratic voters "to judge candidates on their own merits."225 stricken from the original reso lution was a phrase which also urged voters to judge candi dates "without regard, favorable or unfavorable, to pre primary endorsements by unofficial Democratic organizations" and a statement that "Preprimary endorsements by unofficial Democratic organizations are contrary to our system of free and open primaries."226 The committee's inaction on the recommendations of the steering committee was the product of several factors. The Governor was never interested in basic organizational matters. His immediate concern vas to eliminate the 224lqs Angeles Times, February 27, 1966. 225This account of Mrs. Warshaw's views is derived from an interview with her, August 31, 1970 and from her speeches. Three of the more salient of the latter were her remarks to the executive committee, March 6, 1965; February 26, 1966; and June 11, 1966. (Mimeographed.) 22(>San Jose Mercury News, February 27, 1966. 227Copy of the resolution entitled "Open Primaries," 524 outspoken, independent, and intransigent Simon Casady as a potential liability in the up-coming gubernatorial election and to create and sustain the image, if not the reality, of party unity, at least until after November. Moreover, signs of a rekindling of public hostilities between Brown and Unruh and between the northern and southern sections of the state committee may have impelled Brown and northern section leaders to reach an understanding with Hill, even though Hill's personal commitment to the Governor's reelec tion was far from wholehearted.22® Although, in his Novem ber statement, Robert Coate had expressed views about the proper roles of officeholders and volunteer organizations in speaking for the Democratic party that paralleled those of Mrs. Warshaw, what he had referred to as "the larger question" of the role of volunteer organizations in the Democratic party was clearly not the paramount question in February, 1966.228 The issue positions and endorsement activities of unofficial groups and their abrasive relations with other segments of the party continued to be of concern to party adopted by the executive committee, February 26, 1966. (Mimeographed.) 22®Carbon copy of the original resolution entitled "Open Primaries," submitted by Carmen Warshaw to the execu tive committee, February 26, 1966. 229 Interview with Edmund G. Brown, August 31, 1971. 525 leaders at the state and local levels* Such organizational matters, however, typically move from the center stage of the party's attention during electioniyears. In 1966, they could not compete for attention with worrisome results of the gubernatorial primary, the fratricidal bloodbath in the 1966 state committee election, and, finally, the party's defeat in the general election. The disintegration of CDC destroyed its salience as a power base and its ability to threaten the status and power of official party oggans and Democratic officeholders. As noted above, the dissolution of the ODC as an umbrella organization for volunteer groups did create or aggravate organizational problems. These, however, became enmeshed with all of the other questions brought under review in the movement for a comprehensive restructuring of the party 230 that arose in the wake of the 1968 national convention. Conclusion Long observation of the circuitous, equivocal, and 230 After affirming CDC's support of Governor Brown's reelection, Hill is reported to have commented: "Actually, you know, CDC might be better off if Brown lost— not that anybody wants Reagen for governor, of course. But at least we could be ourselves again, take our own positions and ex ert our own force. We wouldn't be hung up on whatever the official party or the governor decides to do" (quoted by the Editors of Ramparts, op. cit., p. 31). 526 often deliberately cryptic behavior of the executive commit-* tee does not provide a basis for definitive and well dodu- mented generalizations about "causes" and "effects." More over, interviews and informal conversations with party leaders and staff members have often yielded diverse and contradictory descriptions and explanations of the events that occur at meetings and equally diverse and contradictory Interpretations of the meanings and consequences of these events. The cases considered in this section, however, do suggest at least five sets of interrelated propositions, of a necessarily impressionistic and speculative character, which may serve as components of a frame of reference for understanding the decision-making role of the executive committee and for interpreting its actions. 1. The committee is only one of several formal and informal centers of decision-making about organizational activities and relationships. It does not stand at the apex of a pyramidal hierarchy nor at the peak of a discern ible chain of command. But its composition and its loca tion in the structure of the party allow party leaders to use it as a means of legitimatizing or giving a stamp of officiality to decisions. Consequently, the actions of the committee are often reflections or ratifications of prior decisions made by formal and informal leaders outside of the context of the committee meetings. 527 2. There are no rules or customs which require state conmittee officers (or other party leader8 and organiza tions) to obtain authorization from the committee for their actions. Although state committee chairmen are charged with the duty ofcearrying out the policies of the state commit tee and its executive committee, neither bed? serves as a vehicle for initiating or formulating decisions about ac tivities that are conducted in the name of the state com mittee. The most that can be said about the role of the executive committee in governing the conduct of state com mittee affairs is the executive committee may serve as a forum for expressing dissatisfaction with the actions of officers and as an instrument of harrassment. When the committee does issue a directive, it is tacitly understood that any sanctions for enforcement lie outside of the com mittee. 3. The committee reflects the regional bifurcation that is characteristic of the party structure as a whole. Consequently, some of the committee's pronouncements about state committee operations, which are expressed in the form of general motions, are tacitly understood to apply to only one section of the state committee. 4. The committee's efforts to articulate an "official" position in internal party matters often constitute ritual istic enactments of conflict or consensus in which a fac- 528 tion or a coalition of factions tries to exploit the name of the state committee in support of some position or ac tion. in such cases, outside of the publicity or prestig- ous value of a symbolic victory, reconciliation, or expres sion of harmony, no discrete consequences usually flow from the action of the committee. 5. The authoritative status and effective scope of the committee's actions are almost always unclear. When the committee must respond to an important conflict within the party, this ambiguity is typically manifested in a peculiar sequence of events. First, there is an assertion by the committee, or by its leaders, of its authority to regulate organizational activities and relationships or to make de cisions about other internal party matters. This is fol lowed by, or sometimes made in conjunction with, an an nouncement that the conmittee is or has been studying the matter and is about to take some definitive action. The final denouement is usually inaction or a pronouncement couched in equivocal and seemingly innocuous terms. The pattern of this political melodrama is not easy to explain. Assertions of the authority of the committee and announcements of intentions to exercise that authority may be tactical maneuvers or symbolic gestures which are wielded in pursuit of goals that are different from or more 529 limited than defining or confirming the scope of the com* mittee's authority, controlling organizational activities, changing organizational relationships, or other stated or implied objectives. They may be elements in a repetoire of actions aimed at influencing the behavior of individuals, as in the case of Munnell and Engle, or a bringing about limited and short term adjustments in organizational behav ior, as in the case of the CDC. What makes these political theatrics intrigutag is uncertainty about the consequences of forming an issue in the executive committee. It may be that uncertainty about the authority of the committee or its ability to obtain compliance with proposed rules or settlements of disputes affects the behavior of both the committee and of those whom the committee is trying to influence. Party leaders may signal the coming of a definitive decision by the com mittee in the hope of forestalling the necessity of attempt ing to make and enforce such a decision. Those who are the targets of these gestures may move toward accommodation with party leaders because they are uncertain about what the committee would or could do in response to intransi gence . The executive committee occupies a central position in the Democratic party machinery. It provides a medium for relatively frequent intra-party communication and con 530 sultation. It furnishes an opportunity for the party to speak on issues that would otherwise go unattended by statewide official party organs between the biennial meet ings of the state convention and the state committee. It is the only collective agency in the formal organization which attempts to call the party's state officers to ac count. It provides an instrument for making "official" responses to the crises and for influencing the outcome of conflicts which arise in the inner life of the party. However, the committee falls far short of perform ing the essential functions of policy initiation and deter mination, planning, and coordination, which it might be expedted to perform by virtue of its location in the party structure. Its disabilities are conspicuous— its member ship is too large, it meets too infrequently, its meetings are often poorly attended. The executive committee's ability to formulate and implement policies and programs and to coordinate party activities is also limited by the party's bifurcated structure, The tradition of mutual non interference in sectional affairs is more faithfully ob served in the enecutive committee than in the state commit tee. As in the case of the state committee itself, the executive committee may serve as a forma for the expression of intra-party unity or controversy, but it is seldom the vehicle through which these conditions are actually devel 531 oped or resolved. The shortcomings of the executive committee have led the Democratic party to experiment with other organiza~ tional arrangements. The search for a more effective in- strument for planning and coordinating party activities and for restraining the actions of party officers resulted in the creation of the steering committee in the mid 1950's. This body, and another organizational adaptation, the women's division, will be discussed briefly in the next chapter. CHAPTER VII NOTES ON TWO ORGANIZATIONAL ADAPTATIONS The Steering Committee In 1954, the Democratic state central committee appended a steering committee to the executive committee. Although the existence of this body is neither prescribed nor specifically sanctioned by law, and although it actual ly functioned for only a few years, the steering committee deserves attention here because it was apparently designed, in part, to compensate for certain deficiencies in the formal structure. For approximately three years, the steering committee replaced, and surpassed, the executive committee as a forum for the discussion and resolution of important party business* Two reasons are commonly given for the creation of the steering committee. One is that it was initiated at the insistence of Richard Graves, Danacratic gubernatorial candidate in 1954. Graves purportedly wanted to use it as a restraint on the newly elected state chairman, Elizabeth Snyder, whose candidacy he had vigorously opposed*^ The other is that it was structured to provide equal represen- ^Interview with Roger Kent, August 8, 1961. 532 533 tation of the northern and southern sections in a small body of top leaders, who would meet frequently to coordi-^ nate activities during campaigns.2 The committee originally had nineteen members, in cluding the officers of the state committee, the national committeeman and committeewoman, the presidents of the CDC and the California Federation of Young Democrats, and representatives of candidates for congressional and state 3 legislative offices. In 1956, the membership was expanded to thirty. As of 1966, the By-laws provided for thirty-two members, consisting of the following: 1. All officers of the state central committee; 2. The national committeeman and national com mitteewoman ; 3. The president of the California Democratic Council; 4. The president of the California Federation of Young Democrats; 5. The chairmen of the county central committees of Los Angeles County, San Francisco County, San Diego County, and Alameda County; 6. United States senators; 9. Two delegates selected by a caucus of county committee chairmen resident in the northern section; 8. Two delegates selected by a caucus of county committee chairmen resident in the southern section; 2 Interview with Carmen Warshaw, September 8, 1961. 3Since no steering committee roster for 1954 was available and since accounts of the composition of the ori ginal committee differ slightly, the composition of the committee as given here was established by inference from interviews and newspaper accounts. 534 9. Two delegates selected by a cauces of congres sional co-chairmen resident in the northern section; 10. Two delegates selected by a caucus of congres sional co-chairmen resident in the southern section; 11. One congressman, one state senator, and one assemblyman from the northern section and one congressman, one state senator, and one assem blyman from the southern section, each of whom is chosen by their respective colleagues.* One notable feature of this formula for determining the membership of the steering committee is the exclusion of northern county chairmen, whose presence on the executive committee give northern members such a wide majority. The steering committee was originally billed as a campaign advisory and coordinating body. In order to func tion in these capacities, it was supposed to meet not less 5 than every six weeks in election years. The place of the meetings was to alternate between the north and south. Regular meetings were to be held after executive committee meetings. A majority of those present could vote to dis pense with the next interim meeting.** When it came to pass that both regular and interim meetings were habitually dis pensed with by the executive committee, the "By-Laws" were ^"By-Laws" (1965), sec. 25. 5"By-Laws" (1958), sec. 14. 6Ibid. 535 amended to provide that the steering committee would con vene at the call of the chairman, at a time and place designated by him. In practice, the steering committee never approach ed its election year quota of meetings every six weeks. The closest it ever came was three meetings in the election years of 1954 and 1956. In the non-election years of 1955, 1957, and 1959, it met only once. The committee appears to have been relatively active until after the election of 1958.8 The marked reduction of time devoted to meetings was a sign of the diminished status of the steering com mittee. In 1954, meetings lasted for three or four hours. Between 1958 and the brief revival of the committee to deal with the CDC problem in 1966 no meeting has lasted for more than an hour and a half. The last meeting before 1965 was held in January, 1960, just before an executive committee meeting, and lasted for only thirty minutes. The sole topic of discussion was the location of the next state 9 central committee and executive committee meetings. 7"By-Laws" (1962, 1965), sec. 27. determined by available minutes. The steering committee may have met twice in 1958 and not at all in 1957. One set of minutes is undated. The material con tained therein indicates that a meeting was held late in 1957 or early in 1958, prior to the 1958 election, 9 Minutes of Steering Committee Meeting January 9, 1960. 536 However, for approximately two years, from 1954 to 1956, the steering committee was the main forum within the party structure for the discussion and determination of important organizational matters. Indeed, from the evi dence contained in the minutes, it seems that the steering committee acted more as an executive committee than the executive committee ever has.1® Steering committee meetings tended to deal with specific projects, such as an issues handbook or a slate mailer, rather than with the often perfunctory formal re ports that were regularly featured on the agenda of the executive committee. The steering committee habitually worked through subcommittees, which were assigned such diverse matters as the compilation and distribution of an issues handbook, an investigation into the uses of televi sion in campaigns, classes in election procedures for party workers, a get-out-the-vote campaign, voter turnout studies, budgetary planning and financing, billboards, re search into voting behavior, and an inquiry into the short comings of the total operation of the party in California. Contrary to the tradition to which ad hoc party committees have long adhered, the subcommittees of the steering com 10The following account is based primarily on evi dence contained in minutes for the period from September 1954, to October, 1959. 537 mittee actually met and reported back to the whole commit tee. Occasionally, they were even authorized to act on their findings. The steering committee was preoccupied with con crete organizational problems. In addition to the subjects mentioned above, it dealt with Sbheduling of speaking en gagements; special events, such as rallies and dinners; the collection and evaluation of statistical data; registration drive; party designations on billboards; reciprocity be tween northern and southern state committee members in at tending dinners in each other's area, appointments to na tional advisory councils; saits against "Democrats for a Republican" committees; a fight among party leaders in Orange County; and endorsing problems in San Francisco. Special committees were also created to consider some of these problems and report back to the committee. Only on a few occasions did the steering committee speak on public policy— to call attention to the "smog issue," to condemn the Eisenhower administration for the "farm depression," and to recommend that the executive com mittee voice its opposition to section 14B of the Taft- Hartley Law. It passed one resolution in the realm of foreign affairs, deploring the suppression of the Hungarian revolution in 1956 and recommending that county chairmen, congressional district co-chairmen, and other party offi- 538 cers help In assistance drives for Hungarian refugees. The steering committee's most significant and en during accomplishment was the adoption of the party's first systematic, long-range program for providing stable finan cial support for the state committee's activities. It of ficially approved the "$100-A-Month plan" for financing the comprehensive budget worked out by the finance committee.^ The minutes indicate that the steering committee participated in the determination of important details of the 1958 campaign. It decided the format of the slate mailer and the allocation of state committee funds between the mailer and registration drives. Its part in making such judgments appears to have been greater than any at tained by the executive committee, before or since the es tablishment of the steering committee. In the end, it was the complaints of executive committee members that the steering committee was conducting business that was proper ly within the province of the executive committee that, in part, precipitated the decline of the steering committee.^ The turning point in the steering committee's career was marked at a meeting in December, 1958 by Roger ^Minutes of the Steering Committee Meeting, Decem ber 12, 1954. See supra, chap. vii, in the subsection en titled "Finance." 12 Personal observation at the by-laws committee meeting, March 17, 1961. 539 Kent's terse announcement that "the primary function of the Steering Committee is to act on the unfinished business of the Executive Committee when such action is not inconsis tent with the Bylaws and previous action of the Executive 13 Committee." This was only part of its authorization under the 1958 "By-Laws" "to implement actions taken by the Executive Committee, to act on matters referred to it by the Executive Committee, and to act on uncompleted busi ness of the Executive Committee.This commission was expanded by a provision authorizing the steering committee "to act between meetings of the Executive Committee on 15 matters of concern to the Party." The steering commit tee, however, could not act contrary to decisions of the state central committee or of the executive committee. The 1962 revisions were apparently designed to make the steering committee strictly a creature of the ex ecutive committee. The present "By-Laws" give the steering committee "the power and duty to carry out the directives and policies of the Executive Committee and to exercise such of the powers of the Executive Committee as that Com mittee may vest in the Steering Committee. ^Minutes Steering Committee Meeting, December 6, 1958. 14"By-Laws" (1958), sec. 14. 15Ibid. 16"By-Laws" (1968) 1964), sec. 24. 540 The 1958 "By-Laws" also seemed designed to insure, or at least to promote, frequent meetings of the steering committee. Regular meetings were to take place following executive committee meetings. In addition, the committee was to "meet at the call of the Chair, but not less often than every six weeks...through the November election, and thereafter, provided a majority present at a regular meet ing shall not vote to dispense with the next interim meet- 17 ing." Since Roger Kent issued his restrictive definition of the steering committee's powers and duties, even regular meetings have usually been dispensed with. With the ex ception of 1966, no special meetings have been called in recent years. The "By-Laws" section currently governing steering committee meetings provide only that "it shall convene at the call of the State Chairman and at such time 1 8 and place as he may designate." The role of the steering committee has depended ultimately upon whether the state chairman has wished to use it. Since 1958, except for the 1966 meeting discussed in chapter VII, chairmen have been inclined to do without its services. Taking note of the dormant state of the steering committee, the by-laws committee, which prepared 17"By-Laws" (1968), sec. 14. 18"By-Laws" (1962, 1964), sec. 27 541 the 1962 revisions, discussed eliminating it. In the end, the members decided to retain the steering committee "so that it will be available if needed."19 Professor Joseph P. Harris, writing in 1967, was still saying of the steering committee that "This innova- tion may well mark the beginning of a long overdue revision 20 of the party committees in the state." Long before he wrote, however, the steering committee had become the hol- lowest shell in the state party hierarchy. The status of the steering committee since 1958, exemplified at an executive committee meeting in June, 1961, in the response of a county chairman to his elevation to the steering committee. Paul Birmingham thanked the ex ecutive committee for bestowing "this empty honor" on him because he was the "only northern county chairman pres ent."21 His expression of gratitude was received with sym pathetic levity by the executive committee. The Women's Division In 1961, when factional bickering had reduced the 19Personal observation at the by-laws committee meeting, Harch 17, 1961. 20Joseph p. Harris, California Politics (4th ed.t San Francisco, Chandler Publishing Company, 1967), p. 44. 21 Personal observation at the executive committee meeting, June 24, 1961. 542 southern section of the state committee to little more than a label on an organization chart, the only concrete evi dence of the state committee's existence in the south was the prodigious activity of the women's division. This or ganization's efforts to raise funds for the Democratic party and to encourage women to participate in politics warrent attention in this study. As Carmen Warshaw, south ern chairman of the organization from 195 8 until 1964 described it: "The women's division is colorful, gaudy, and useful. "22 In 1937, women woniithe legal right to equal repre sentation with men on the state central committee.23 It seems, however, that equality was not ir*nediately forth coming, because three years later, a group of Democratic women were moved to demand "equal rights" in the committee 24 "in fact as well as in theory." The state committee had attempted to give the principle of equality formal recog nition with the establishment of a women's division, but the women complained specifically that they were not con- 22Personal observation at the executive committee meeting, September 2 3, 1961. 23Cal. Stats. (1937), ch. 407. 24 Richard Israel, "An Analyses of California State Democratic Party Organization: The State Central Commit tee" (unpublished H.A. thesis, Department of Political Science, University of California, Berkeley, 1958, p. 105. 543 suited on plans for the 1940 convention.25 Some viewed their special organizational status as an obstacle to their integration and full participation in the affairs of the state committee. They recommended, therefore, that the "women's division of the Democratic Party be abolished and that the fairer sex be considered an integral part of the regular organization.25 The women's division has sur vived, but many participants have been ambivalent about its separate organizational status. During the 1940's the women's division carried on a varied program. Its purposes were given as follows: 1. To educate the voters in objectives and ac complishments of the Democratic Party. 2. To familiarize voters with National and State platforms. 3. To register as many Democratic voters as pos sible. 4. To encourage women to participate in every Democratic campaign.27 The organization of the women's division conformed to the bifurcated pattern of the state central committee, with a women’s vice chairman in northern California and one in southern California. Each was responsible for the 25Ibid. 26Ibid. 27Ibid., p. 106. 544 organization's activities in her own section. Membership in the women's division was open to "all registered Demo cratic women without payment of dues, upon enrollment in 2 8 the OFFICIAL Women's Division." Each vice chairman had sis assistants, who handled matters in the areas of radio, publicity, legislation, the Democratic Digest, finance, and program.29 The chairman in each of these subjects worked with county chairmen. In spite of feminine complaints about the handicaps of a separate organizational unit, the women's division has often sponsored a vigorous and varied program. Fart of the reason for its durability is that it has furnished a pro ductive channel for the energies of prominent women in the Democratic Party. In 1956, the "By-Laws" were amended to give the women's division a statewide chairman, who was to be elec ted by all the female members of the state central commit tee, and two sectional vice-chaivmen, who were to be elec ted by female members of the committee in their respective 28Ibid. 29Ibid. 30Carmen Warshaw said that the women's division chairmanship was created because the party needed an appro priate position for Goldie Kennedy, prominent Ventura Demo crat (interview, September 8, 1961). 545 31 sections. The "By-Laws" provide that the women's divi sion chairman "shall, under the supervision otf the State Chairman, provide and direct the activities of this or ganization for Democratic women."32 The section vice- chairmen are to be "under the supervision of the Women's Division Chairman and do everything necessary to assist the Women's Division Chairman in their respective sec tions"33 in fact, however, the pattern of leadership in the women's division imitates the bifurcated model of the state committee. The chairmanship alternates north and south, and, since the women's division chairman is elected from the section not electing the state committee chairman, she runs her own show in her own territory. * Similarly, the vice-chairman in the section of the state cczoroittee chairman is, in practice, women's division chairman in that territory.3^ The women's division has been more active in south ern California than in northern California. One reason for 31Ibid. 32"By-Laws" (1963), sec. 6f. 33 Ibid., sec. 6g. 3 4 J"This point, as will be shown below, pertains to the southern women's division chairman rather than to the northern chairman. 35 Interview with Jane Morrison, June 19, 1961. 516 this sectional variation may have been the moribund condi tion of the state committee in the south from 1960 through 1961. Another reason may be the differences in the pattern of relationships between leaders in each section. In the north, where the state committee has been the center of party activity, the efforts of the women's division chair man have blended with those of a closely knit leadership group, which works out of state committee headquarters. In southern California, where there have been several compet ing channels of party activity and where factional alter cations have abounded, the women's division chairman has sometimes operated independently of the state committee. By controlling a functioning apparatus and by fostering ef fective programs to raise money and increase Democratic participation, she may achieve considerable leverage with 36 one or another of the rivalrous groups. Under Mrs. Warshaw, the southern section of the wo men's division tended to be the creature of its chairman, 37 who appointed her own officers and project chairmen. One 36 This was certainly true under Mrs. Warshaw. It was less true when Mrs. Warshaw became southern section chairman, and her close friend, Trudy Owens became south ern women's chairman. 37 Interview with Carmen Warshaw, September 8, 1961. Most of the account of the women's division is based on this interview supplement by personal observation. 547 product of this system of leadership recruitment by co option was harmony. The chairman adhered to the policy of liberally spreading responsibility and recognition among a large number 4>f women. This seemed to promote congenial relations among women occupying leadership positions in the organization. The practice of rewarding effort with haddsome doses of recognition appeared to be effective in promoting and maintaining participation. The chairman's channel of communication with rank- and-file Democratic women was through an executive com mittee, which consisted of the organization's officers and project chairmen, plus the woman congressional co-chairman of each district. The latter, in turn, appointed assembly district representatives. The women's division also worked through women's clubs, but it did not charter them. Char tering such clubs was the function of the county commit* tees. The women's clubs were free to affiliate with other organizations. Carmen Warshaw contended that this pattern of organization helped to integrate various units of the party. All of the work of the women's division has been done by volunteers. While the organization hhs had no paid staff of its own, it has ovcasionally borrowed the services of the professional staff employed by the state committee* In northern California, for example, Van 548 Dempsey, executive secretary of the state committee, hand died the arrangements for the women's division's legisla tive program. Carmen Warshww has pointed out that women consti tute the majority of precinct workers for the party. The women's division has promoted a year-around program de signed to mobilize this source of grass-roots effort into a continuing apparatus for precinct activity. The organi zation has thus often possessed a continuity that has been lacking in other party units, which have sometimes tended to lie dormant between campaings. The activities of women’s division have revolved around four major projects. The first, "Teas for TV," raised funds for candidates' television broadcasts. Women were encouraged to hold teas in their own homes and to col lect a small donation from their guests, who were, in turn, urged to hold their own teas. The program makes a substan tial contribution to the party's publicity campaigns. "Teas" has also sponsored a variety of fund-raising events such as fashion shows and theatre parties. The second major project has been the women's di vision legislative program, under which the organization has conducted seminars has lobbyied for major bills in the Democratic program. The project was run at the grass-roots level by assembly district committees selected by the 549 women congressional co-chairman in each district. In 1960, the women's division ran a survey to determine what leg islation was of the greatest concern to women. On the basis of their findings# they picked four bills upon which to focus their attention. A fifth bill on narcotics was added at the request of Governor Brown. Women were encour aged not only to make individual contacts with legislators but to decend en masse upon the legislature. Another element of the program was establishment of a speaker's bureau to spread word of Democratic accomplish ments to both Democratic groups and non-partisan service clubs. The speakers bureau also prepared and distributed printed material concerning the Democratic administrative and legislative programs. Thirdly, the women's division participated in a national program, "Operation Support," which was intended to promote the passage of major bills sponsored by the Kennedy and Johnson administrations. The fourth project has been the "Golden Key" program for the systematic dis tribution of awards for party service. Women who give a tea, or oonduct a legislative seminar, or graduate from the speakers' training course, or make some comparable effort om behalf of the Democratic party receive this recognition. Carmen Warshaw described the "general function of the women's division" as that of "stimulating and encour- 550 aging women to be interested in the Democratic Party."38 Women, she contended, are not issue-oriented, and, conse quently, CDC clubs "hold no great appeai for them." On the other hand, women are willing to participate in concrete activities. "The women's division fills a vacuum left by CDC in bringing activity but not issue oriented women into party work."-*® 38Ibid. 39Ibid. CHAPTER VIII PARTY REORGANIZATION WITHIN AND WITHOUT THE LAW In the period covered by this study, Democrats have exhibited a more intense and sustained interest in party or ganizational problems than Republicans. Republican office holders did display a brief flurry of concern over the ef forts of right-wing elements to control the state committee. Moreover, they have shared the general irritation of Demo cratic incumbents with the ideological escapades and en dorsement activities of extralegal organizations. On the whole, however, Republicans have seemed relatively contented with the organizational status quo, particularly with the smooth-running statewide operation initiated by State Chair man Gaylord Parkinson in 1964. The Republicans have been able to overcome some of the organizational fragmentation created by the Elections Code through unified financing, developing a capability to supply some of the benefits of modern campaign technologies to candidates, and creating a professional field staff to implement programs in organ!za- 551 552 tional development and candidate services.^ Even under the impetus of conditions similar to those affecting the Democratic party**—for example, conflicts between incumbent officeholders and extralegal organiza tions and electoral defeat— Republicans have been less sus ceptible to the fevers of comprehensive organizational re formism. The reason for their relative equanimity may lie in political cultural factors. Republicans seem to $ake more of a managerial and marketing approach to politics than do the Democrats. When Republicans contemplate organ izational reform, therefore, they do so in the limited sense of improving managerial practises, professionalizing staff, unifying and systematizing fundraising, and exploit ing new technologies in campaign communication and in col- 2 lecting, processing, and utilizing information. Democrats may share these technocratic interests See David K. Hart, "The State Central Committee: Can Dr. Parkinson Cure His Largest Patient?" Reason, 2 (October-November, 1966), pp. 17-19; and John R. Owens, Edmond Costantini, and Louis F. Weschler, California Poli tics and Parties (London: Macmillan Company, 1970), p. 195. 2 *See Alexander Heard, The Costs of Democracy: Financing American Political Campaigns, Anchor Books (Gar- den City, New York: Doubleday 4 Company, Inc., 1962) , pp. 186-193, 201-202, 229-230; and John S. Saloma, III, and Frederick H. Sontag, "Developments in American Party Struc ture: Recent Trends and Consequences for the 1970's" (paper presented at the 66th annual meeting of the American Political Science Association, Los Angeles, Calif., Septem ber 8-12, 1970). 553 but, when they think about organizational reform, they are more likely to do so in terms of increasing citizen partici pation in party affairs and democratizing decision-making processes. Perhaps, having had less success in centralizing financing, they have looked upon reorganization as the pathway to the salvation of party cohesion. Their reorgani- zational impulses, therefore, tend to have a wider scope. The Democratic party's organizational sensitivities have been sporadically heightened by specific stimuli* One was the emergence of the CDC as a vigorous grass-roots movement which challenged the claims of both official party organizations and public officeholders for the right to act as the authoritative "voice" of the Democratic party. A second was the abolition of cross-filing, which diminished the value of the CDC endorsement. A third was the growing strength of incumbent legislators in official party organs, initially as a result of the 1958 electoral sweep. A fourth was the creation of safe Democratic legislative seats in the 1961 reapportionment, which further reduced the benefits of the primary endorsements and volunteer workers supplied by the CDC, relative to the costs of CDC's ideo logical extravagances and the threat of endorsements going to primary challengers. Further impetus for organizational attention was provided by electoral defeats in 1964, 1966, and 1968 and 554 by the disintegration of the CDC, which reduced avenues available for grass-roots participation and raised questions about the relationships between the clubs and official party committees which chartered them and about the use of the party's name to raise funds and conduct other activities by organizations which had no official authorization or recog nition. And, finally, the California Democratic party was swept up in the national party's reform movement, which arose in the aftermath of the disasterous 1968 national convention. The concern about organizational deficiencies, im pelled by such factors, was expressed concretely in the in creased production of legislative proposals dealing with party structure. Among the more notable of these was the total reorganization contemplated by the DeLotto bill in 1961 and the "Truth in Endorsements" law passed in 1963. Legislative interest was also reflected in the work of the Assembly Interim Committee on Elections and Reapportion ment, which, during the 1961-1962 interim, conducted an ex tensive study of party organization.^ The committee's investigation included public hear ings, gathering information about party organizations in other states, and a questionnaire on reorganizational pro posals, which was sent to 1,600 party leaders and to politi cal scientists specializing California government and politics. Having conducted an extensive study, the commit tee concluded that it is much easier to diagnose problems 555 The state central committee itself displayed a con* tinuing interest in reorganization after the turmoils that attended the birth and rapid growth of the CDC in the 1950's and during a period when reapportionment scrambeled district organizational boundaries. One manifestation of this in terest was extensive attention devoted to overhauling the "By-laws" from August, 1960 through September, 1961. After 1961, the by-laws committee continued to study organization al problems and to propose rules changes of a technical na ture but it did not undertake the kind of comprehensive sur- 4 vey that produced the revisions of 1960-1961. In 1966, the state committee established the first of a series of committees to study organizational problems than to propose solutions. While asserting the necessity of basic structural changes, the committee suggested only a few minor adjustments of a technical nature (Cal., Assembly Interim Committee on Elections and Reapportionment, Politi cal Party Organization [Sacramento: State Printing Office, 1963]). *The CDC, motivated in part by legislative attacks on its endorsement activities and by the use of paid work ers in the 1962 campaign, established an "Election Reform Committee" in 1963. The committee called for a thorough study of laws regulating party organizations in California but made no proposals for change [California Democratic Council, "Election Reform Report [presented at the 1963 convention of the CDC, Bakersfield, Calif.]). 556 and make recommendations for revision of the Elections 5 Code. The immediate stimulus for the formation of the committee was the tangle of internal problems created by the widening schism between the CDC and other party elements. The committee produced a plan for a comprehensive reorgani zation of the Democratic Party, but its recommendations never received serious attention.*’ The results of the 1966 election increased the flow of criticisms of organizational deficiencies and proposals for reform from organizations, special conferences, and in- 7 dividual party leaders. The flood tide of reformism, how- Letter from Carmen Warshaw to Leon Cooper, March 24, 1966. Southern Chairman Warshaw appointed Cooper to serve as chairman of the "Advisory Committee on Election Code Reform." ^Personal observation as secretary to the commit tee. When last seen, the committee was holding a poorly attended hearing on the day before the state convention of 1966. It appears that the proceedings were deliberately structured to encourage the committee to "talk itself to death." This impression was gained from informal conversa tions with professional staff people, who considered the committee's proposals to be futile or inimical to the in terests of public officeholders or of particular factions within the party. 7 Jesse Unruh, for example, proposed the development of an organization based upon elected precinct committeemen (Los Angeles Times, January 22, 1967). Other proposals were made at a specialconference entitled "Whose Democratic Party Is This?" which was held in Los Angeles on June 3, 1967. One of the more notable of these was a plan, an nounced by State Chairman Charles Warren, to establish a statewide network of district campaign committees, consist 557 ever, was reached after the debacle of 1968 and under the additional stimulus of the national party's reform commis- Q sion. A detailed and bitter review of organizational fail ures was conducted a "unity" meeting of the executive com- 9 mittee in November, 1968. At this meeting, a special task force was created to conduct hearings on the weaknesses of the party machinery. In 1969, organizational self- ing of representatives of all Democratic organizations, to coordinate and direct party activities (personal observa tion at the conference). A few days later, the executive committee adopted Warren's "Resolution No. 3," which es tablished a framework for the creation of such committees and designated the executive committee as a chartering agency for them (copy of "Resolution No. 3," submitted by Charles Warren and adopted by the executive committee, June 10, 1967). The program received "a limited response," and, in January, 1968, was indefinitely postponed by state com mittee officers (Mimeographed notice from Joe Holsinger [northern section chairman] to executive committee members, undated). o Commission on Party Structure and Delegate Selec tion, established by Senator Fred R. Harris, chairman of the democratic national committee, on February 8, 1972. The commission's chairman was Senator George McGovern. The commission urged state parties to form their own reform committees (notice from State Chairman Roger Boas to public officials, executive committee members, and others, undated). 9 Personal observation as coopted secretary to the southern caucus, November 16, 1968. 10Ibid. 558 analysis sessions were held in Los Angeles and Sacramento. The McGovern Commission's hearings in Los Angeles provided still another forum for organizational criticisms, which ex tended far beyond the Commission's immediate interest in 12 procedures for selecting national convention delegates. In 1970, the state committee established the Cali fornia Commission on Democratic Party Reform, with a man date "to change the California Democratic Party from top to bottom, if necessary, to make it a more effective repre sentative of the people," and to seek "effective grassroots 13 participation by all Party members. A special conference was held in Fresno in May, 1971 to consider the commis sion's report and recommendations. The Fresno conference, which one experienced leader called "the biggest group 14 therapy session we've had since Asilomar, approved a com prehensive reorganization plan, similar to that proposed by X1Los Angeles Times, May 5, 1969; April 13, 1969; April 14, 1969; 12 Personal observation at the hearings, June 21, 1969. 13 Letter from George R. Moscone and Tom Bradley to ■oger Boas, January 17, 1971. ^*Does not wish to be identified. 559 15 the commision. State Chairman Charles Manatt announced his intention to submit the reform proposals, as amended, to the legislature for incorporation into the Elections Code.^6 When asked what had become of the proposals in the Assembly Committee on Elections and Reapportionment, a leg islative aide commented that they had been given "a slightly lower priority than the question of foreign assistance to Tanzania." In the last twelve years, a multitude of Democrats have devoted substantial amounts of time and energy to com plaining about the structure created by the Elections Code and to formulating proposals to amend the law as a means of establishing a coherent and cohesive organizational pattern. They appear to share the view of many scholarly observers of California politics: that the Code bears much of the blame for the weakness of party organization in California. The list of damaging statutory effects is a long one. It includes a disjointed structure in which the state Report of the Committees to the California Com mission on fienwcratlc Party Reform (December 31, 1^70), as amended at the Democratic state Central Committee Meeting on Party Reform, May 15-16, 1971, Fresno, Calif. 16Los Angeles Times, May 17, 1971. 17 Does not wish to be identified. 560 and county organizations, which are mandated by the law, have no clearly defined relationship to each other. The Code does give county chairmen membership on the state com mittee and it does make state legislative officeholders ex officio members of county committees. Moreover, it gives the county committees a vague commission to conduct party campaigns under the supervision of the state committee. But the state organization and the county committees are not parts of an integrated party heirarchy, as they would be if the state committee were composed of delegates se lected by county committees. The members of these two bodies are selected by different procedures and by differ ent constituencies. Consequently, they have no organic re lationship to each other. The complaints most frequently directed at the state organization focus on its domination by officeholders and nominees. The Code, by making the official state organs the exclusive property of the party's nominees and their appointees, insures that the structure will be unrep resentative of the diversity of goals, interests, and or ganizational perspectives that characterize the Democratic party. Another criticism is that the Code reinforces re gional bifurcation by providing that the state chairmanship must alternate between the northern and southern sections every two years. 561 The aomplaint most frequently directed at the county committee is that it is electorally irrelevant be cause elective offices at the local level are nonpartisan. Moreover, official party organizations, whether as exten sions of state or of county organizations, do not exist at the precinct level. The structure created by the Code lacks statewide coherence and integration, a base at the grassroots, and an identifiable allocation of responsibility and authority. In addition to fragmenting party structure and creating or ganizational voids, the Code also stipulates, in stultify ing detail, not only the composition of party organs, but also the time, place, and procedures of meetings. And, perhaps most damaging, the law explicitly forbids official party groups from participating in the nominating process. While the proposals for Code revisions emanating from countless party leaders, committees, commissions, and conferences have varied, they have tended to have certain characteristics in common. Most have called for the crea tion of a pyramidal and integrated structure with an organ izational base in units encompassing from one to five pre cincts ; the abolition of county committees and the creation of layers of intermediate conaittees and conventions at the assembly district or congressional district level; reduc tion of the dominant position of nominees and officeholders 562 in state organizations and the selection of a preponderance of state convention delegates and state committee members by delegates selected by grassroots units; elimination of detailed Code provisions and more discretion for officially recognized organizations in determining their own struc tures and procedures* Virtually all the proposals for re form, or the groups which produced them, have exhibited ambivalence about the role of official party organs in pri mary elections. It may be conceded that the party structures shaped by the anti-party impulses of the progressive reform move ment do not, in and of themselves, provide an integrated and unified mold for party activities in California. It may also be conceded that legal stipulations have been a hin- derance to organizational development. These admissions, however, do not adequately support the view that the Elec tions Code is the primary, or even a major, cause of party organizational weakness. There are four sets of reasons for believing that the emphasis placed by Democrats on re construction by means of changing the law may have been misdirected and, ultimately, counterproductive. First, there is no evidence, based upon interstate comparisons, that the type and amount of statutory regula tion has a significant relationship to the strength of state party organizations. What is apparent is that most 563 states have elaborate legal rules governing party organiza tions and that many of these laws create pyramidal struc tures, composed of units established at levels relevant for the conduct of elections and founded upon the smallest vot- 19 ing districts of the state. It is equally apparent, how ever, that the realities of intra-party organizational re lationships, decision-making processes, allocations of authority and responsibility, and external activities sel- 19 dom resemble the model etched in the law. The structure and functions of existing organizations appear to be shaped by an interaction between the goals, perceptions, and atti tudes of political leaders and a multitude of politically relevant environmental variables whose impact may be far 20 greater than that of the law. 18 See Austin Ranney, "Parties in State Politics," in Politics in the American States: A Comparative Analy sis, ed. by rferbert Jacob and Kenneth N. Vines (2d.edV; Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1971), pp. 83-84, 92-95; and Frank J. Sorauf, Party Politics in America (2d.ed.; Boston: Little, Brown ana Company, 1972), pp. 66-72. 19 Sorauf, op. cit., pp. 81-83; Ranney, loc. cit. 20 The variables are too numerous to mention here. For a comprehensive treatment of environmental conditions affecting party organizations, see Sorauf, op. cit., pp. 59- 134, 422-434; and the comparative analysis presented throughout Leon D. Epstein's work, Political Parties in Western Democracies (Mew York: Frederick A. Praeger, Publishers, 1967). 564 Secondly, there is no generally accepted operational definition of party organizational strength— among Califor nia Democrats, among politicians at large, or among politi cal scientists. This lack of consensus about the empirical indicators of organizational strength results largely from ambivalence, uncertainty, and disagreement febout the values to be maximized by party organization. An inability to de fine clearly and/or to agree upon the value premises under lying criticisms of existing organizations and proposals for change has been reflected in the ambivalence of reform- minded Democrats about the role of even reconstructed offi cial organizations in the nominating process and about the proportionate roles of volunteer activists and public of ficeholders in the determination of the party's policy positions. Political scientists have exhibited similar ambiva lence and lack of agreement about the normative underpin nings of their implicit and explicit organizational models. There are different value preferences to be maximized in the polar alternatives of cadre and mass membership parties, machines and clubs, amateur and professional styles, ra tional-efficient and party democracy models, or in any of the other dichotomous typologies presented in the scholarly 565 21 literature. Generally, the architectonic fervor that has pulsed through California Democracy has been animated by a desire to increase citizen participation in party affairs, to de velop policy by internally democratic procedures involving an expanded role for the rank-and-file, and to insure rep resentation in decision-making processes of varieties of interests and perspectives, defined by population categor ies and by organizational affiliations. Mass participation, intra-party democracy, and "representativeness" appear to be valued both as ends in themselves and as means for elec toral success. There is no reason to believe, however, that the type of party contemplated by the reform advocates will insure, or even be compatible with, victory at the polls. Thus, a party that organizationally "strong" according to one set of criteria may be "weak" according to another* The reason that comprehensive reform has remained a hope rather than become an accomplishment may be that pub- off iceholders perceive a conflict between their interests in electocal success and the enactment of reform proposals. 21 For lucid summaries and analyses of these and other organizational typologies, see William E. Wright, ed., A Comparative Study of Party Organization (Columbus, Ohio: Charles E. Merrill Publishing dompany, 1971), pp. 3-13, 17-54. 566 Moreover, when faced with the actual implementation of change, even reformists— whether among public officials, organizational professional?, or amateurs— seem to hesi tate. Perhaps they fear that action to achieve party de mocracy may sacrifice electoral effectiveness. And perhaps they sense that, without the promise of political power, the achievement of party democracy will be meaningless be cause demands for citizen participation will bypass recon structed, but electorally impotent, party organizations. An important obstacle to reform, therefore, may lie in un certainty, ambiguity, or disagreement about the ends to be achieved or in an inability to rationalize possibly incom patible goals. Thirdly, whatever the values to be maximized, it is doubtful that reorganization through the Elections Code is a necessary or a sufficient condition for their achieve ment. With one important exception, the language of the Code is not prohibitive. The only explicitly forbidden activity is that of making preprimary endorsements. Offi cial organizations seldom made such endorsements before they were forbidden to do so and cannot be said to have been weakened by the enactment of the prohibition. Legal opinions about the activities of official party organs sug gest that the state committee may do whatever is required, and not explicitly forbidden, to carry out its legal man- 567 date: Mto conduct party campaigns....appoint campaign di rectors and perfect whatever campaign organizations it deems suitable or desirable and for the best interest of the party.”22 There are numerous organizational innovations which may be made within the law. The Code stipulation of the time that the state committee must meet, for example, does not prevent the committee from meeting at other times for purposes other than the election of officers. The commit tee is free to hold issue conferences, workshops, candidate seminars, or other types of convocations. The legal rules governing the composition of the state committee do not prevent broadening participation in all committee activities, except for the election of offi cers. Participation may be increased through associate memberships or by extending invitations to nonmembers to attend meetings held for anyppurpose. If the Code incapacitates the state committee as decision-making body by mandating its excessive size, it does not prevent the development of an infrastructure of subcommittees along functional and/or geographical lines. Nor does it prevent the use of the executive committee of 2Elections Code (1964), sec. 8231. 568 the creation of other intermediate structures for coordina tion or supervision of such subunits. The lack of adequate integrative linkages between the state committee and the county committees may also be overcome. Such linkages may be forged, for example, through associate membership programs, exchanges of invita tions to attend meetings, and joint conferences. Further integration may be achieved if the state committee provides technical expertise, research, data processing, fund-rais ing, and other services to county committees. Such assist ance is likely to be welcomed by county committees which, in all but the large metropolitan areas, do not have access to the resources required to develop and sustain substan tial programs. The failure of the Code to create official organi zations below the county level does not prevent the estab lishment of such organizations by county committees or by the state committee, bypassing or working in conjunction with county committees. An interlocking set of substruc tures may be created, for example, at the level of assembly or congressional districts around a nucleus of state com mittee and/or county contnittee members residing within each district. In practice, all of these organizational adapta tions have been made, or attempted, at one time or another, 569 irrespective of the law. They have been made, if not by the state committee, then in its name by its officers and staff, often acting in conjunction with public officials and leaders of other party organizations. With few except tions, the obstacles to organizational innovations which encourage wider participation, structural integration, greater coordination, and the development of grassroots or ganization lie more in the needs and goals of political leaders, operating within given environmental conditions, than in the law. If party organizational strength is measured by bureaucratic criteria, such as the size and professionali zation of staff, provision of services to other organiza tions or to candidates, the mobilization and electorally or organizationally effective use of resources (in the form of fund-raising, technical expertise, communications media, facilities for collecting, processing, and disseminating information, etc.), then, again, strength has been independ ent of the Code. The Republicans, operating within the same legal framework as the Democrats, developed a unified, well-financed statewide operation. The northern section of the Democratic state committee had a stable, cohesive, and influential leadership corps, relatively close and amicable relations with county committees and with volunteer organi zations, a stable and effective professional staff, and a 570 reliable system of fund-raising for the same twelve years during which the southern section had a high turnover of both officers and staff and swung sharply between the or ganizational extremes of virtual nonexistence and an opera tion which, in terms of indicators such as staff size, bud get, and the establishment of branch offices, rivaled that of the Republican state central committee. The Code has been a "cause" of none of these varia tions* They have occurred as the result of many factors, including whether a party holds the governorship; the party leadership role adopted by the governor; the role orienta tion of state committee chairmen; the relationships between the state committee chairmen and the governor, other public officers and party leaders, and big contributors; the degree of social, as well as political, homogeneity and cohesion among political leaders and among financial con tributors; and the socioeconomic and cultural milieus within which party organizations evolve* The Elections Code creates some hinderances, but few insurmountable obstacles, to organizational develop ment* It may be concluded, therefore, that some of the at tention Democrats devote to inspecting, criticizing, and proposing to change the law might be better invested in making those organizational innovations that are already permitted. There is ample precedent and a wide sphere of 571 alternatives for adaptive organizational responses within the existing legal framework. In any event, no organizational chart, whether etched within or without the law, guarantees structural integration, leadership stability and effectiveness, mass participation, internal democracy, or the achievement of other ultimate or instrumental values. The table of organ ization may remain unfilled, and structural elements may wither or may evolve in ways that diverge widely from the outline because of the impact of a multitude of political and non-political environmental factors which affect party organization. Organization charts represent, not promises, but hopes and opportunities. Finally, it may be argued that the attention lavished by Democrats on reorganization has been devoted to a structure whose electoral relevance has been severely eroded by an unwillingness or inability to adapt to modern campaign methods and conditions. Technologically obsoles cent, electorally impotent party organizations, whether re formed or not, may prove to be an increasingly ineffective instrument for achieving the programmatic goals of the re formers. Consequently, even reconstructed organizations may prove to be an unattractive vehicle for participant demands. Fifty or sixty years ago, party organizations came 572 close to monopolizing the knowledge, skills, and manpower resources required for successful campaigns. They were the critical linkage between the candidate and the electorate and virtually the sole means of mobilizing electoreJL 23 support. Today, a variety of communications media have sup planted party organizations as a means of reaching the electorate. Candidate-centered groups of volunteers and contributors, computerized mailings, and, most importantly, ratio and television have enabled candidate* to bypass party organizations and appeal directly to the electorate. As Robert Agranoff has suggested: "The most popular of the media, television, has become the surrogate party worker, the vehicle for conveying candidate style, image, and 24 issues." Even where face-to-face contact is required for voter registration and identification and for increasing turnout among groups with low participation rates, there is no need to sustain the involvement of potential field work ers by organizetions in the machine, mass membership, or club mold. Vdlunteer footsoldiers can be recruited, as 23 Sorauf, op. cit., pp. 255-261. 24 Robert Agranoff, The New Style in Election Cam paigns (Boston: Holbrook Press, Inc., l972), p. 5. 573 needed, by the same informational technologies and candi date-centered media that are used to mobilize the electorate. The emergence and expansion of the mass media of communication and the development of a new sources of poli tical knowledge have stimulated the burgeoning growth of a campaign management industry. Candidates may now purchase from this industry— from full service management firms, media specialists, pollsters, public relations consultants, and other commercial experts— all of the vote mobilization services traditionally supplied by party organizations, plus a mastery of the new communications and informational technologies that the parties cannot match. An obvious result of these developments has been to free candidates from dependence on party organizations and, concomitantly, 25 to reduce the electroral role of such organizations. The technological revolution in campaigning did not initiate the structural and functional vitiation of party 25 Ibid., pp. 4-44, 96-114, for extensive discus sions of these trends. Also see Sorauf, loc. cit.; and Harold Mendelsohn and Irving Crespi, Polls, Television. and the New Politics (Scranton, Pennsylvania: Chandler Publish ing Company, l?70), pp. 297-314. For discussions of the emergence and development of the campaign management indus try, see Stanley Kelly, Jr., Professional Ptoblic Relations and Political Power (Baltimore: JoHns Hopkins Press, 1956), pp. 2-39; and Dan Nirarao, The Political Persuaders: The Techniques of Modern Election Campaigns (Englewood Cliffs, tfew Jersey: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1970), pp. 34-6B. 574 organizations in America. The trend toward organizational atrophy has been apparent at least since the long march of reform began with the direct primary.2® When parties began to lose control of the candidate selection process, their control over other aspects of the electoral process— form ulation and articulation of issue positions, determination of strategies, allocation of resources— also began to weak en* The declining availability and relevance of patron age, the adoption of the office-block ballot form, the in stitution of nonpartisan local elections, changes in the physical mobility, affluence, educational attainment, and voting behavior of the electorate, and other factors hhve further weakened the power of party organizations to con trol campaigns. The effects of such factors have now been acceler ated by the fact that candidates and non-party groups have access to the whole panoply of old and new campaign skills and services for which they need not (and cannot) rely on 2®Most scholars, following the lead of V.O. Key, Jr., in American State Politics; An Introduction (New York: Alfred A* Knopf, Inc., 1^56), have singled out the direct primary as the chief enemy of strong party organiza tion. See Epstein, op. cit., especially pp. 19-45, for a comprehensive discussion of the historical circumstances and institutional factors that discouraged the development of externally-created mass membership parties in the Euro pean mode and account for the fact that American parties have remained loosely articulated, skeletal cadre struc tures, with relatively few active members. 575 party organizations. The commercial campaign firm has fil led the void created by the inability of "paper tiger" party organizations either to use effectively their tra ditional tactics of canvassing and getting out the vote on a face-to-face basis or to acquire and provide modern elec toral services to dandidates.22 If party organizations are to regain and retain im portant electoral functions, they will need to transform themselves, but not in the democratic-participant direction contemplated by Democratic reformers. Parties may forge a new and important role in electoral politics if they absorb the new technology and provide candidates with modern cam paign skills and services at a lower cost than those of- 2 8 fered by non-party management and consultant sources. An adaptive organizational response to technologi cal change would be the emergence of technocratic parties 27 By way of contrast, the strong organizations in the British party system have not been weakened by the emergence of new campaign technologies; they have absorbed them. Specialists in advertising, research, and media pro duction have become part of the bureaucracy of national party organization and provide their services to the party and to its candidates (see Agranoff, op. cit., p. 100). 2®The discussion that follows relies heavily on Agranoff, op. cit., pp. 4-44, 96-114; and John S. Saloma, III, and Frederick H. Sontag, op. cit., pp. 8-12. Unlike Agranoff, Saloma and Sontag do not consider the possibility that electoral role of party organisation, whether partici pant or not, will be increasingly filled by commercial firms. 576 29 along the lines of two alternative models: (1) the de velopment of large party bureaucracies which possess the skills to wage modern campaigns; (2) the establishment of relatively stable contractual relationships between party organizations and..commercial agencies, whose services would be made available to candidates under the auspices of party organizations. The latter case would also involve some bureaucratic development in areas, such as systematic fund raising, in which the party organization might conduct its own operations. In other areas, consultants and management firms would become staff arms of party organizations, en abling them to penetrate new fields of electoral politics. One factor that may encourage this trend might be the de sire of commercial agencies for the economic stability and continuing financial support that party organizations would offer.30 Whichever model is followed, organizational adapta tion will involve at least three elements. One is the development of professional staffs with the skills to oper ate a modern management system and to apply new informa- 29 The term "technocratic" and the alternative models are borrowed from Saloma and Sontag, op. cit., pp. 4, 7, 13. 30The establishment of such relationships seems to be more characteristic of Republican than of Democratic state organizations. For several examples, see Saloma and Son^ag, ibid., p. 21, n. 28. 577 31 tional and communications technologies. Professionalization of staff implies the second requirement: the development of a self-sustaining finan cial base, perhaps through direct mail solicitation and 32 television advertising. A stable financial base is especially important for staff development and continuity and for support of programs in areas such as market re search budgeting, long-range systematic planning, data analysis, media usage, and cost effectiveness studies. It provides a uniquely convertible resource which can be given to candidates in the form of direct grants or in the form of services. A third requirement is likely to be a consolidation 31 For discussions of the development of profession al staffs by state organizations, see Daniel H. Ogden, Jr., "Trends in Democratic State Party Organizations" (paper presented at the 57th annual meeting of the American Polit ical Science Association, St. Louis, Ho., September €-9); Charles E. Schutz, "Bureaucratic Party Organization Through Professional Staffing," Midwest Journal of Political Science, 8 (May, 1964), pp. i2y-142), and Bernard Hennessy, "On the Study of Party Organization," in Approaches to the Study of Party Organization ed. by Williamj. crotty (Bos ton : Allyn and Bacon, Inc., 1966), pp. 23-24. Profession alization has been most apparent in the ara of automatic and electronic data processing (see Robert L* Chartrand, "Ihformation Technology and the Political Campaigner," in Agranoff, op. cit., pp. 134-137. 32 The Republicans have taken in the lead in estab lishing a sustaining base of small contributors. In the late I9601s, about eighty percent of the Republican nation al committee's budget came from contributions of between ten and one hundred dollars (lee Saloma and Sontag, op. cits, p* 6). 578 of resources and electoral functions and, consequently, a centralization of organizational authority at the state, 3 3 national, and, possibly, metropolitan levels. It is not likely that local constituency parties will be able to ac quire the resources needed to meet the challenges of modern electioneering and, in particular, the high investment and maintenance costs of such elements as electronic data pro cessing equipment. Ironically, it is candidates for less visible offices in small and/or marginal constituencies, such as state legislative districts, who are in the great est need of organizationally provided services. If a strong organizational role in elections develops, it will be at levels which can mobilize the required resources. Thus, the allegiance of candidates and their personal sup port groups will shift away from local Constituency organ izations toward central party organizations that are recog nized as important sources of electoral services. Central ized, organizationally conducted campaigns, which can sup ply the full spectrum of services required for electoral success, may offer an increasingly attractive prospect to candidates as the new technology increases in complexity 34 and cost. 3 3 Agranoff, op. cit., pp. 112-114, makes a strong argument for this point. ^*Ibid. See also Saloma and Sontag, loc. cit. 579 The kind of organizational development projected here has at least one important implication for the organi zational goals of Democratic reformers. Technocratic parties do not require continuing grass-roots participation and internal democracy to carry out essential electoral functions. They need only a strong professional staff, a modern management system, and a stable financial base. The management conception of electoral politics, implied by the development of such parties, is that of a contest of skill and technique between teams of nonideological profession als. Technocratic parties may be, in a sense, parties without people.^ Indeed, the involvement of nonprofes sional people in organizational decision-making may be more of a hinderance than a help to such parties. Winning elections in a heterogenous society with many conflicting interests and cross-cutting cleavages of^c ten requires the avoidance or blurring of issue or ideolog ical positions that divide both the party and the elector ate. The ideological and issue-oriented styles of contem porary political activists, who place principle above elec toral pragmatism, suggest that more participation may threaten a party with a rigidity of goals that will dimin- ish its electoral effectiveness. Many amateur activists 35 Saloma and Sontag, op. cit., pp. 4, 14. 36 On the ideological and issue proclivities of 580 have supported issue-positions and issue-candidacies with out consideration of the effects of their actions on the 17 electoral fates of parties. Their participation in or ganizational decision-making is not likely to be welcomed by candidates and organizational professionals who, while they are by no means devoid of issue concerns and ideologi cal commitments, view electoral politics as a problem of winning votes rather than as a test of the party’s princi ples and programs. Nor are the party's public officehold ers likely to be enthusiastic about the development of mass membership organizations that they may not be able to con trol and that may challenge their independence from and their domination of party organizations, as well as take amateur activists, their styles of participation, and the problems they pose for electorally oriented party struc tures, see Sorauf, op. cit., pp. 94, 108, 388-404; James Q. Wilson, The Amateur Democrat: Club Politics in Three Cities (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1962), especially chaps, i, v, x, xi; and John W. Soule and James W. Clarke, "Amateurs and Professionals: A Study of Dele gates to the 1968 Democratic National Convention," Ameri can Political Science Review, 64 (September, 1970) , pp. 887-998. 37 This tendency was apparent among delegates to the Republican national convention of 1964 and to the Democrat ic national convention of 1968 (and perhaps 1972). See Aaron Wildavsky, "The Goldwater Phenomenon: Purists, Poli ticians, and the Two-Party System," Review of Politics, 27 (July, 1965), pp. 386-413; and Soule and Clarke, loc, cit. For a comparison of Goldwater and McCarthy delegates with respect to this propensity and others, see Nelson W. Polsby and Aaron B. Wildavsky, Presidential Elections (3d ed.; New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1971), pp. 35-59. 581 isBue positions in the same of the party that may alienate substantial segments of the electorate. Herein may lie the irreconcilable choices facing Democrats who value both electoral success and mass partici pation, internal democracy, and representativeness. The emergence of the new technology of campaigns and the rise of participatory expectations among citizen activists in dicate that party organizations may evolve in only one of two alternative directions: toward technocratic, elector- ally effective organizations, with a minimum of popular participation or toward participatory organizations with a minimum of electoral effectiveness. The electoral pragma tism of professionalized organizations, geared to the de mands of modern campaigning, appears to be incongruent with a broad, participant membership base, at least within the American social and institutional setting and non-deferen- tial political culture. One trend, therefore, uy prevail only at the eppense of the other. The development of participant structures does ap pear to be compatible with technologically obsolescent, electorally impotent party organizations but only in the short run. If party organizations, whether reformed or not, fail to adapt to the requirements of modern campaigns, can didates will be further impelled to disassociate themselves from party organizations and to increase their reliance on 582 personal support groups, campaign management firms and con sultants, and the interest groups and individual contribu tors who can supply the funds required to purchase campaign services. Ultimately, electorally ineffective organizations are not likely to remain attractive targets for the partic ipant demands of amateur activists. The energies of par ticipant citizens may bypass even reformed parties and flow into third and fourth party movements or into ad hoc citi zens groups of the sort that proliferated during the 1960's,38 Ironically, affluence and the new technologies in communication and information make it possible for non- party political organizations to take their causes directly to the people, as well as use the more conventional lobby ing approach of interest groups. The same factors allow them to enter into the electoral process on their own, with endorsements of candidates and, £f they can pay the price, the knowledge and skills of the new politics. Thus, party organizations face yet another set of competitors for their electoral role. 38 Saloma and Sontag, op. cit., pp. 15-16. B I B L I O G R A P H Y 583 504 SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY A. Party Documents The party documents used in this study have been obtained from four major sources: (1) personal collection of materials distributed at meetings of the state conven tion, state committee, executive committee, and subcommit tees and at workshops, seminars, conferences, and other convocations held under the auspices of the state committee and/or other organizations from 1960 through 1969; (2) miscellaneous records and reports accumulated by Madale Watson, present southern section treasurer, since 1954; (3) the northern state committee's files of minutes of the steering committee and executive committee, and related correspondence, covering the period from 1954 through 1962; (4) the files of the southern state committee's department of public affairs, primarily for the period from 1962 through 1966. The composite collection includes materials issued by, or pertaining to, not only official state organi zations and their auxiliaries but also other organizations, such as the national committee, national convention delega tions, the Los Angeles county committee, ODC, the Californ ia Federation of Young Democrats, Democratic Volunteers Committee, Democratic Associates and campaign committees. Copies of most of the documents cited in this study 585 are undoubtedly in the hands of innumerable party leaders and workers. However, they are not obtainable from any single sources, including the headquarters of the state central committee, because even non-confidential files tend to be destroyed or dispersed when control of a party orga nization passes from one faction to another. Consequently, the materials harvested in the course of research for this study constitute an archive that is probably unique in volume, variety, and relative continuity. It is hoped that eventually the collection will be deposited in a univer sity library, where it will be available to other students of political parties. Categories of documents which have been major sources of information for this dissertation are listed be low. The classification is in accordance with the peculiar requirements of this study. It must be assumed that no group of sequential records, such as minutes, is complete. 1. Democratic State Central Committee "By-laws." Includes copies of proposed and adopted amend ments, 1958-1967. Chairmen's reports. Usually issued in conjunction with state committee and executive committee meetings; contain descriptions of state committee activities and services, announcements of events, and other information, 1961-1966. Executive committee. Minutes, 1956-1966. 586 Financial records. Includes quarterly statements issued by each section of the state committee; minutes, ros ters, and notices of the southern section's finance committee; and reports pertaining to the "United Democratic Headquarters Fund," "Dollars for Demo crats," and Democratic Associates, 1957-1966. Meetings. Files containing working papers, staff assign ments, memoranda, letters, mailing lists, agenda, subcommittee rosters,ppress releases, reports, speeches, and other materials relating to meetings of the state convention, state central committee, and executive committee, 1962-1966. Platforms. Of the California Democratic party, 1960-1966. Reform. Files containing notices, memoranda, letters, re ports, hearings, testimony, legislative proposals, and other materials pertaining to party reorganiza tion. Rosters. Of the executive and steering committees, 1955- 1971. Southern California Democratic Newsletter and Report. Of- ficial publication of the southern statecentral committee, issued at irregular intervals (monthly or quarterly); title varies, 1961-1966. Speeches and statements. Includes remarks delivered at party meetings and statements issued to the press by various party officials, public officeholders, and other party notables. Steering committee. Minutes, 1954-1960. Women’s Division. Includes memoranda; notices; reports; kits for workshops, legislative programs, and other affairs; press releases, and other materials, 1961-1966. 2. California Democratic Council CDC Bulletin and legislative newsletters. Issued 1961* m y . 587 Miscellaneous. Files containing rostess, minutes, indivi dual and committee reports, resolutions, notices, manuals, press releases, and other materials, 1957- 1966. B. Public Documents and Laws 1. California Laws. Constitution of the State of California. ' ' Revised after each election at which amendments are adop ted. _______. California Statutes and Amendments to the Codes. Published at the end of each session of the legis- lature. _______. Election Laws of the State of California. San Francisco: A " ! Carlisle £ Co., Published biennially. _______. Peering*s Elections Code. 1971 Pocket Supple ment) San Francisco: Bancroft-Whitney Company, 1971. Legislature. Assembly Interim Committee on Elections and Reapportionment. Political Party Organization. Sacramento: State Printing Office, 1963. _______. Journals of the Assembly and Senate. Published daily during sessions; collected and indexed at the close of each session. . Legislative Counsel. Opinions. Analyses of laws and proposed enactments issued in response to questions from members of the legislature. Secretary of State. Members of State Central Committees. Issued biennially titles vary. _______. Statement of the Vote. Official election re sults') published after each state election. 588 2. United States Bureau of Census. Statistical Abstract of the United States. 197TI 92d ed. Washington, D.C.: Depart ment of Commerce, 1971. C. Books and Published Monographs Agar, Herbert. The Price of Union. Boston: Houghton Mif flin Company, 1950. Agranoff, Robert, ed. The New Style in Election Campaigns. Boston: Holbrook Press, Inc., 1972. Backstrom, Charles H., and Hursh, Gerald D. Survey Re search. Evanston, Illinois: Northwestern Univer sity Press, 1963. Bean, Walton. Boss Ruef's San Francisco. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University o£ California Press, 1952. Bone, Hugh A. American Politics and the Party System. New York: McGraw-Hill Book Company, Inc., 1949. Bunzel, John H., and Lee, Eugene C. The California Demo cratic Delegation of 1960. Inter-University Case Study No. 67. Birmingham: University of Alabama Press, 1962. Burke, Robert E. Olson's New Deal for California. Berke ley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1953. Campbell, Angus, et al. The American Voter. New York: John Wiley andSons, Inc., 1960. Cannon, James M., ed. Politics, U.S.A. Garden City, New York: Doubleday £ Company, Inc., 1960. Cannon, Lou. Ronnie and Jesse, a Political Odyssey. Gar den City, New York: Doubleday t Company, Inc., 1969. Carney, Francis M. The Rise of Democratic Clubs in Cali fornia. New fork: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1958. 589 Chambers, William Nisbet, and Burnham, Walter Dean, eds. The American Party Systems; Stages of Political Development. New York: 6xford university Press, 1967. Claunch, John M., ed. Determinants of Formal and Informal Structures in State Political Parties. Dallas: Arnold Foundation, Southern Methodist University, 1959. Costantini, Edmond. The Democratic Leadership Corps in California. Davis: Institute of Governmental-Af fairs, University of California, 1967. Cotter, Cornelius P., ed. Practical Politics in the United States. Boston: Allyn and Bacon, Inc., 1965. Cresap, Dean R. Party Politics in the Golden State. Los Angeles: Haynes Foundation, 1954. Crotty, William J., ed. Approaches to the Study of Party Organization. Boston: Allyn and Bacon, Inc., Crouch, Winston W., et al. California Government and Politics. 2d. ed. Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hal1, Inc., 1960. David, Paul T.; Goldman, Ralph M.; and Bain, Richard C. The Politics of National Party Conventions, 1960. Washington, D.'C. : Brookings institution, i960. Davis, Winfield J. Political Conventions in California, 1649-1892. Sacramento: dalifomia State Library, 1893. Downs, Anthony. An Economic Theory of Democracy. New York: Harper 6 Rowe, Publishers, 1957. Duverger, Maurice. An Introduction to the Social Sciences. Translated by Malcolm Anderson. New York: Freder- ick A. Praeger, Publishers, 1964. . Political Parties. Translated by Barbara North and Robert North. 7d. ed. New York: John Wiley 6 Sons, Inc., 1959. Easton, David. The Political System: An Inquiry into the State of Political Science. New York: Alfred A. 590 Knopf, Inc., 1953. Elazar, Daniel J. American Federalism: A View From the States. New York: Thomas Y. 6rowel1 Company, T5S7T" Eldersveld, Samuel J. Political Parties: A Behavioral Analysis. Chicago: Rand MctfaTly 6 Company^ I5’ 64. Epstein, Leon D. Political Parties in Western Democracies. New York: Frederick A. Praeger, Publi'sHers, I9T7T _______. Politics in Wisconsin. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1958. Eulau, Heinz, and Sprague, John D. Lawyers in Politics: A Study in Professional Convergence. Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill Company, Inc., 1964. Fenton, John H. Midwest Politics. New York: Holt, Rine hart and Winston, fnc.*, 1966. _______. Politics in the Border States— Maryland, West Virgin ia, Kentucky and Missouri. ^few Orleans: Hauser tress, 1557.----------------- Froman, Lewis A., Jr. People and Politics: An Analysis of the American Political System. Englewood Cliffs, tfew Jersey: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1962. Harris, Joseph P. California Politics. 3d. ed. Stanford, California: Stanford University Press, 1961. _______. California Politics. 4th ed. San Francisco: Chandler Publishing Company, 1967. Harvey, Richard B. The Dynamics of California Government and Politics" Belmont, California: Wadsworth Publishing Company, Inc., 1970. Heard, Alexander. The Costs of Democracy. Anchor Books. Garden City, New YorkIlfoutleday f c Company, inc., 1962. Hennessy, Bernard. Dollars for Democrats. Eagleton Insti tute Case Study umber 20. New York: McGraw-Hill Book Company, Inc., 1960. Herring, E. Pendleton. The Politics of Democracy. New 591 York: Rinehart & Company, Inc., 1940. Hill, Gladwin. The Dancincr Bear. New York: World Pub lishing Company” 1968. Jacob, Herbert, and Vines, Kenneth N., eds. Politics in the American States: A Comparative Analysis. Jd. e d : . Boston; Little, Brown and Company, 197l. Jonas, Frank H., ed. Politics in the American West. Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1969. _______. Western Politics. Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, l*J 6l. Kaplan, Abraham. The Conduct of Inquiry: Methodology for Behavioral Science. San Francisco: Chandler Pub lishing Company") 1964. Kelly, Stanley, Jr. Professional Public Relations and Political Power. Ba1timore: John Hopkins Press, T55T.-------------- Key, V. 0., Jr. American State Politics: An Introduction. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1956. . Politics, Parties and Pressure Groups. 4th ed. New York: Thomas Y. Crowell Company, 1958. _______. Southern Politics in State and Nation. Vintage Books. New York: kandom House, Inc., and Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1949. Kingdon, John W. Candidates for Office: Beliefs and Strategies. New York: "Random House, Inc. , 1966. Ladd, Everett Carl, Jr. American Political Parties: Social Change and Response. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, tnc.,1970. Lane, Robert E. Political Life. Glencoe, Illinois: Free Press, 1955T Lee, Eugene C., ed. The California Governmental Process. Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 194<>. _______. The Politics of Nonpartisanship: A Study of California City Elections^ Berkeley andLos 592 Angeles: University of California Press, 1960. Leiserson, Avery. Parties and Politics. New York* Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 195S. Lockard, Duane. New England State Politics. Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1959. March, James G., ed. Handbook of Organizations. Chicago: Rand McNally & Company, 1965. Marvick, Dwaine, ed. Political Decision-makers. Glencoe, Illinois: Free Press, 1961. Mathews, Donald R. The Social Background of Political De cision-makers’ ! New York: Random House, Inc., m ----------- Mendelsohn, Harold, and Crespi, Irving. Polls, Television, and the New Politics. Scranton, Pennsylvania: Chandler Publishing Company, 1970. Merriam, Charles E., and Gosnell, Harold F. The American Party SystemI An Introduction to the~£tudy o£ Po liticalParties in the Unfted States. 4th ed. New York: Macmillan Company, 1949. Michels, Robert. Political Parties. Translated by Eden Paul and Cedar Paul. New York: Dover Publications Inc., 1969. Milbrath, Lester W. Political Participation. Chicago: Rand McNally & Company, 1965. Mitau, G. Theodore. Politics in Minnesota. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1960. Mowrey, George E. The California Progressives. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1951. Nimmo, Dan. The Political Persuaders: The Techniques of Modern Election Campaigns. Englewood Clifrs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1970. Ogden, Daniel M., Jr., and Bone, Hugh A. Washington Poli~ tics. New York: New York University Press, Ostrogorski, M. Democracy and the Organization of Politi- 593 cal Parties. Edited by Seymour Martin Lipset. Anchor Books. Garden City, New York: Doubleday £ Company, Inc., 1964. Owens, John R. Money and Politics in California: Democra tic Senatorial^ Primary, 1964. Princeton, New Jer sey : Citizen's Research Foundation, 1966. ; Costantini, Edmond; and Weschler, Louis F. California Politics and Parties. London and Toronto: Macmi1lan Company, 1970. Parten, Mildred B. Surveys, Polls, and Samples: Practical Procedures. New York: Warper ana ferothers, Pub-- lishers, 1950. Polsby, Nelson W., and Wildavsky, Aaron. Presidential Elections. 3d. ed. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1971. Pomper, Gerald M. Elections in America: Control and In fluence in PemocraticTl^olTtics. New York; Dodd, Mead & Company, 1968. Porter, Kirk H., and Johnson, Donald B. National Party Platforms, 1840-1964. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1966. Ranney, Austin. Illinois Politics. New York: New York University Press, l^Sfl. Redding, Jack E. Inside the Democratic Party. Indianapo lis: Bobbs-Merrill' Company, Inc., 1958. Rogin, Michael P., and Shover, John L. Political Change in California: Critical Elections and Social Move ments , 1890-19571 Westport, Connecticut: Green wood Publishing Corp., 1970. Rowe, Leonard. Preprimary Endorsements in California. Berkeleyl Bureau of Public Administration, 1961. Sawyer, Robert Lee, Jr. The Democratic State Central Com mittee in Michigan, 194^-19^9: The Wise of the Wew frolltlesandthe New Political Leadership. Ann Arbor: Institute o £ Public Administration, Univer sity of Michigan, 1960. Sorauf, Frank J. Party Politics in America. Boston: 594 Little, Brown 6 Company, 1968. Sorauf, Frank J. Party Politics in America. 2d. ed, Bos ton: Little, Brown and Company, I9’ 72. Straetz, Ralph A., and Munger, Frank J. New York Politics. New York: New York University Press, I960. Tillett, Paul, ed. Inside Politics: The National Conven tions, 1960. Dobbs Ferry, New York: Oceana Publi cations , Inc., 1960. Wahlke, John C., and Eulap, Heinz, eds. Legislative Be havior. Glencoe, Illinois: Free Press, 1959. _______, et al. The Legislative System. New York: John Wiley andc6ons, Inc., 1962. Wattenberg, Ben J. This U.S.A. Garden City, New York: Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1965. Wilson, James Q. The Amateur Democsat: Club Politics in Three Cities. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1962. Wright, William E., ed. A Comparative Study of Party Or ganization. Columbus, Ohio: Charles E. Merrill Publishing Company, 1971. D. Articles Alford, Robert. "The Role of Social Class in American Voting Behavior." Western Political Quarterly, 16 (March, 1969)$ pp. 180-184. Anderson, Totton J., and Lee, Eugene C* "The 1964 Election in California." Western Political Quarterly, 18 (June, 1965), pp. 451-474. , end Leey Eugene C. , ! The 1966 Election in California." Western Political Quarterly, 20 (June, 1967), pp. 535-554. Axelrod, Robert. "Where the Votes Come From: An Analysis of Electoral Coalitions, 1952-1968." American Poll tlcal Science Review, 66 (March, 1972), pp. 11-26. 595 Bowman, Lewis, and Boynton, G. R. "Recruitment Patterns Among Local Party Officials: A Model and Some Pre liminary Findings in Selected Locales." American Political Science Review, 60 (September, 1966) , pp. 667-676. Committee on Political Parties of the American Political Science Association. "Toward a More Responsible Two-Party System." American Political Science Re view, 44 (September, 1950), Supplement. Conway, M. Margaret, and Feigert, Frank B. "Motivation, Incentive Systems, and the Political Party Organ ization. " American Political Science Review, 62 (December, 1968), pp. 1159-1173. Cooke, Edward F. "Drafting the 1952 Platforms." Western Political Quarterly, 9 (September, 1966), pp. 699- 712. Costantini, Edmond. "Intraparty Attitude Conflict: Demo cratic Leadership in California." Western Politi cal Quarterly, 16 (December, 1963), pp. 256-272. Crotty, William J. "The Utilization of Mail Questionnaires and the Problem of a Representative Return Rate." Western Political Quarterly, 19 (March, 1966) , pp. 44-53. Editors of Ramparts, "Golly gee, California is a Strange Sta£ei* Ramparts, October, 1966, pp. 11-33. Farrelly, David G. "Trouble in the Clubs." Reason, 2 (Fall, 1966), pp. 15-16, 24. Fuller, Helen. "The Man to See in California." Harper's Magazine, January, 1963, pp. 64-72. Hart, David K. "The State Central Committee: Can Dr. Parkinson Cure His Larqest Patient?" Reason, 2 (Fall, 1966) , pp. 17-19. Hirschfield, Robert S.; Swanson, Bert E.; and Blank, Blanche D. "A Profile of Political Activists in Manhattan." Western Political Quarterly, 15 (Sept ember, 1962), pp. 489-506. Ippolito, Dennis S. "Political Perspectives of Suburban Party Leaders." Social Science Quarterly, 49 (March, 1969), pp7~8Tnr-gT5: — “------ 596 Key, V* 0., Jr. "The Direct Primary and Party Structure: A Study of Skate Legislative Nominations." American Political Science Review, 48 (March, 1954), pp. 1-26. ---------------------- Levine, Sol, and Gordon, Gerald, "Maximizing Returns on Mail Questionnaires." Public Opinion Quarterly, 22 (Winter, 1958-1959), pp. 5^8-575. Miller, Mike. "How to Reach Voters." Liberal Democrat, January, 1963, pp. 8-9. Nothenberg, Rudy, "cnc Retreats on Foreign Policy." Liberal Democrat, March, 1963, pp. 7-8. Patterson, Samuel C. "Characteristics of Party Leaders." Western Political Quarterly, 16 (June, 1963), pp. 332-352. Phelan, James. "A Democratic Disaster Area." The Reporter, November 2, 1967, pp. 18-21. Pomper, Gerald M. "New Jersey County Chairmen." Western Political Quarterly, 18 (March, 1965), pp. 186-197. Salisbury, Robert H. "The Urban Organization Member." Public ( pp. 550- Public Opinion Quarterly, 29 (Winter, 1965-66) “ “ 1-564 . Schutz, Charles E. "Bureaucratic Party Organization Through Professional Political Staffing." Midwest Journal of Political Science, 8 (May, 1964), pp. 127-142. ------------------ Soule, John, and Clark, James W. "Amateurs and Profession als: A Study of Delegates to the 1968 Democratic Convention." American Political Science Review, 64 (September, 1970), pp. 888-698. Unruh, Jesse, "The Future of Preprimary Endorsements." Liberal Democrat, March, 1961, pp. 5-6. Wiggins, Charles W., and Turk, William L. "State Party Chairmen: A Profile." Western Political Quarterly, 23 (June, 1970), pp. 321-332. Wildavsky, Aaron. "The Goldwater Phenomenon: Purists, Politicians, and the Two-Party System." Review of Politics, 27 (July, 1965), pp. 386-413. 597 Wilson, Janies Q, "A Guide to Reagan Country.M Commentary, May, 1987, pp. 37-45. Windmiller, Marshall. "CDC Retreats on Foreign Policy." Liberal Democrat, April, 1961, pp. 3-5. 2______ . "The Election and the Future of CDC." Liberal Democrat, December, 1962, pp. 5-7. _______. "Further Reflections on CDC." Liberal Democrat, February, 1963, pp. 5-6. Wolfinger, Raymond E., and Greenstein, Fred I. "Comparing Political Regions: The Case of California." American Political Science Review, 63 (March, 1969), pp. 74-85. E. Unpublished Dissertations, Theses, and Papers Bell, Charles G, "A Study of Four Selected Factors Which Have Contributed to the Inability of the Democratic Party to Successfully Mobilize Its Latent Majority in California." Unpublished M.A. thesis. Depart ment of Political Science, University of Southern California, 1958. Chinn, Ronald E. "Democratic Party Politics in Califonnia, 1920-1956." Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, De partment of Political Science, University of Cali fornia, Berkeley, 19S8. Duke, Bohn H. "The County Committeeman and His Role in California Politics." Unpublished Ph.D. disserta tion, Department of Political Science, University of Southern California, 1956. Hart, David K. "The Office of the Party County Chairman in California: A Study of Role Expectations." Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Claremont Graduate School, 1965. Israel, Richard. "An Analysis of California State Demo cratic Party Organization: The State Central Com mittee." Unpublished M.A. thesis, Department of Political Science, University of California, 598 Berkeley, 1953. Lee, Eugene C. "An Analysis of the 1962 California Primary Election for State Legislative and Congressional Office." (Mimeographed) . May, Dickinson* "The California Democratic Cduncil." A term paper written at the University of California, Berkeley, June, 1959. _______ . "How to Win California Elections." A term paper written at the University of California, Berkeley, February, 1959. Ogden, Daniel M., Jr. "Trends in Democratic State Party Organizations." Paper presented at the 57th annual meeting of the American Political Science Associa tion, St. Louis, Mo., September 6-9, 1961. Prendergast, William B. "Aspects of the Development of Republican State Organization." Paper presented at the 57th annual meeting of the American Political Science Association, St. Louis, Mo., September 6-9, 1961. Saloma, John S., Ill, and Sontag, Frederick H. "Develop ments in American Party Structure: Recent Trends and Consequences for the 19701 s." Paper presented at the 66th annual meeting of the American Political Science Association, Los Angeles, Calif., Sept. 8- 12, 1970. F. Newspapers Most of the newspaper articles used in this study are from the voluminous collection compiled by Allen's Press Clipping Service for the southern section. The names of newspapers from which articles are cited in the footnotes to this dissertation are as follows; 599 Beverly Hills Times California Eagle (Los Angeles) Culver City Star News El Cajon Valley News Glendora Press Hollywood Citizen News Long Beach Independent Long Beach Press-Telegram Los Angeles Daily News Los Angeles Examiner Los AngeleB Herald Examiner Los Angeles Mirror Los Angeles Times Monterrey Park Californian Pasadena Star News Pomona Progress Bulletin Redlands Facts Rivesside Enterprise Riverside Press Sacramento Bee San Bernardino Telegram San Diego Evening Tribune San Diego Union San Fernando Valley Times San Francisco Chronicle 600 San Francisco Examiner San Jose Mercury News Santa Ana Register Santa Monica Evening Outlook Washington Star (Washington, D, C.) Westwood Hills Press G. Interviews Don Bradley, Los Angeles, October 12, 1961, Edmund G. Brown, Los Angeles, August 31, 1971. Joseph Cerrell, Los Angeles, September 6, 1961; July 28, 1965. Van Dempsey, Sacramento, March 3, 1962. Martin Huff, Oakland, February 9, 1961. Roger Kent, San Francisco, August 8, 1961. Jane Morrison, San Francisco, June 19, 1961. Richard Richards, Los Angeles September 11, 1961. Nancy Swadesh, San Francisco, June 20, 1961. Bernard Teitelbaum (by telephone), May 17, 1961. Jesse Unruh, Los Angeles, June 4, 1971. Carmen Warshaw, Los Angeles, September 9, 1961; August SI, 1970. Modale Watson (by telephone), August 31, 1967. Eugene Wyman, Los Angeles, August 30, 1962, Paul Ziffren, Los Angeles, September 6, 1961. APPENDIX 4 601 San Fernando Valley State College NORTHR1DGE. CALIFORNIA 91334 Department of Political Science July 23, 1971 Dear Congressional District Co-Chairman: The enclosed questionnaire is part of my doctoral dissertation, which is entitled “ The Democratic State Central Committee in California." Congressional district co-chairmen were chosen for inten sive study because they are an important part of state party organization, and yet political scientists know little about them. The only source of information about this office is you, the congressional district co-chairman. Since this questionnaire is the only way I can obtain information about your office, the project will stand or fall on your willingness to respond. The purpose of the questionnaire is to contribute to scholarly knowledge about state party leader ship and organizational activities. Your answers will be kept entirely confidential. My interest is solely in tabulating the answers to the questionnaire and in analyzing them in quantitative form so that I can get a picture of the characteristics, activities, and organizational experiences of party leaders. The serial number on the questionnaire serves only as an aid to monitoring return rates. Every effort has been made to shorten the questionnaire. Every question, therefore, has added importance. Please respond to every question. If you wish to add any comments, please feel free to do so. No one knows more about the office of congressional district co-chairman than you do, and your political knowledge and experience are of vital importance to this study. I have enclosed a stamped, self-addressed envelope in which to return the questionnaire. Since I am working toward a very short deadline, I hope that you will complete and return it as soon as possible, preferably by July 30th. My dissertation is being written in the hope that all of us who are interested in politics will gain greater understanding of state party organization. If you care to read the completed dissertation, it should be on file this fall at the Library of the University of Southern California. The Inter- Library Loan Service of the college nearest you will be able to tell you how to obtain a copy. Thank you for your help. Sincerely yours. Faith Windsor, Assistant Professor 6 0 2 San Fernando Valley State College NORTHRIDCE. CALIFORNIA 013S4 Department of Political Science August 10, 1971 Dear Congressional District Co-Chairman: About two weeks ago, I sent copies of the enclosed questionaire and letter of transmittal to all Democratic congressional co-chairmen. The information being sought is to be a part of my doctoral dissertation on the Democratic State Central Committee and is explained in the enclosed letter. The conclusions of this study will be more accurate if they are based upon as many completed questionaires as possible. Therefore, I am sending you this second mailing in the event that you did not receive the previous one. I hope that you will have the time to complete and return it. The quality of the responses that have been received to date has been excellent. They suggest that, if a sufficiently large number of questionaires are returned, the resulting study will be of value to all of us who are interested in politics. You may have some questions about the questionaire. It is admittedly brief, and some of the questions certainly could be amplified. The number and the length of the questions had to be minimized for two reasons: first, to encourage a high rate of returns and, second, to re duce costs. Since I am personally paying the costs of this project, the questionaire had to be adapted to very limited resources. Moreover, the range of possible answers on some questions had to be narrowed for greater efficiency in tabulation. As a result, some of these answers may not seem to cover your response. If you would answer these questions as best you can, it will be greatly appreciated. Even with these limitations, the information received so far has been extremely useful. I would greatly appreciate your finding the time to complete and return the questionaire as soon as possible. If you have already returned it, please accept my thanks and ignore this letter. Thank you again for your cooperation in this project. 1 hope to hear from you soon. Sincerely yours, Faith Windsor, Assistant Professor 603 BIOGRAPHICAL DATA: CONGRESSIONAL DISTRICT CO-CHAIRMEN ALL ANSWERS ARE CONFIDENTIAL (II WHERE WERE YOU BROUGHT UP? 8i<) City □ Suburbs □ Small City □ Village^Farm □ East □ M idwest □ West □ South □ Abroad □ (2) WHEN YOU WERE GROWING UP, HOW ACTIVE WERE YOUR PARENTS IN POLITICS? M other: Very Active □ Som ew hat Active □ Not Active □ Father: Very Active □ Som ew hat Active □ Not Active □ (31 HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN ACTIVE IN PARTY POLITICS?. .years. (41 HIGHEST GRADE OF SCHOOL YOU COMPLETED? (CHECK ONE) None 5-6 years 7 8 years 9-11 years Com pleted High School 1 3 years College Com pleted College G raduate work in College (5) PRESENT MARITAL STATUS?. (61 NUMBER OF CHILDREN?. (71 WHAT IS YOUR PRESENT OCCUPATION? (PLEASE INDICATE SPECIFIC JOB TITLE OR POSITION, SUCH AS GROCERY CLERK, ATTORNEY, HIGH SCHOOL TEA CH ER.)___________________________________________________ SPOUSE'S OCCUPATION?. (8) WHAT DO YOU BELIEVE YOUR TOTAL FAMILY INCOME WILL BE IN 1971 (BEFORE TAXES)? (CHECK ONE) Under 5,000 5.000 9,999 10.000 14,999 15.000 19,999 20.000 24,999 25.000 or more IB) AGE? years (10) SEX? Male □ Female □ (11) RA CE?. (12) RELIGOUS PREFERENCE? Catholic O Protestant □ Jewish CD Other IF PROTESTANT, PLEASE GIVE DENOM INATION. (Specify) (13) LENGTH OF RESIDENCE IN CA LIFO RN IA ?. .years. (14) PRESENT RESIDENCE?. (Town) (County) (IS) HOW LONG HAVE YOU LIVED IN YOUR PRESENT COUNTY? .years. 604 serial n o . POLITICAL DATA: CONGRESSIONAL DISTRICT CO-CHAIRMEN ALL ANSWERS ARE CONFIDENTIAL (1) WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING PARTY POSITIONS HAVE YOU EVER HELD? Local club official Chairman, Countv Committee Other office. County Committee Member, County Committee Officer, State Central Committee Delegate to National Convention Alternate to National Convention (CHECK) WHEN HELD? (21 WERE YOU A MEMBER OF THE STATE CENTRAL COMMITTEE BEFORE 1970? INDICATE THE YEARS DURING WHICH YOU WERE A MEMBER: F ro m ______ t o ________ F rom ________t o ________ F rom ________ to ______F ro m ___ Yes □ No □ IF YES, to 13) WERE YOU A MEMBER OF THE EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE BEFORE 1970? Yes D No D IF YES, INDICATE THE YEARS DURING WHICH YOU WERE A MEMBER: F ro m ______ to ________ F rom _______ t o ________ From ________ to ______ From ________ t o _______ (4) HAVE YOU EVER SERVED ON A SUBCOMMITTEE OF THE STATE CENTRAL COMMITTEE (BY-LAWS, RESOLUTIONS, PARTY REFORM, ETC.)? Y e s D No O IF YES, INDICATE NAME OR TYPE OF COMMITTEE___________________________________________________________________ (S) ARE YOU A MEMBER OR OFFICER IN ANY OF THE FOLLOWING VOLUNTARY PARTY ORGANIZATIONS? (CHECK ONE OR MORE) M E ^gE R O F £|£E R ‘ Club affiliated with CDC Club not affiliated with CDC * Young Democrats ' Women's Forum * Democratic Associates ‘ Other _______________________________ (Specify) (Specify) □ □ (6) WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING PUBLIC OFFICES HAVE YOU EVER SOUGHT? (CH£CK) IF SUCCESSFUL, WHEN HELD? * City-level official — ,_____________________ _______________________________ * School board member _ ‘ County-level office — _ * State legislator M ______________________________ Congressional office — Other ______________________________ ______________________________________________________ (Specify) 605 (7) HAVE VOU EVER HELD AN APPOINTIVE (NONCIVIL SERVICE! POSITION IN GOVERNMENT? Yes D No D IF YES, WHAT POSITION?____________________________________________________ (8) IF YOU WERE ASSOCIATED WITH CAMPAIGNS FOR PARTICULAR OFFICES IN 1970 AND 1968, INDICATE THE TITLE OF THOSE OFFICES (STATE SENATE, CONGRESS, ETC.): 1970 1968 (Title! (Title! (9) WHAT SORT OF WORK DID YOU DO IN THE 1970 OR 1968 CAMPAIGNS? Registration drive Get-out-the-vote drive Managed or helped in campaign headquarters Fund-raising Spoke at meetings Helped organize dinner, cocktail party, or other event Door-to-Door canvassing Telephone canvassing Other (Specify! (Specify) □ ICHECK ONE OR MORE) 1968 □ 110) HOW MUCH CONTACT DO YOU HAVE WITH STATE COMMITTEE OFFICERS OR STAFF? Often - throughout the year CD Frequently during campaigns, but rarely at other times □ On rare occasions - at conventions, meetings, etc. □ Never □ (11) IN MOST CASES, WHO HAS INITIATED SUCH CONTACTS? I have □ A state com m ittee officer or staff member has □ (12) WHAT HAS BEEN THE NATURE OF YOUR CONTACTS WITH STATE COMMITTEE OFFICERS OR STAFF? (CHECK) You met officers or staff members at a state com m ittee meeting Officer or staff member attended meeting in your district or county * You wrote a letter to a state com m ittee officer or staff member You received a letter from a state com m ittee officer or staff member Telephone conversation Face to-face informal conversation in home, office, restaurant, etc. * Other ____________ (Specify) 606 113) WHAT SORTS OF TOPICS HAVE YOU DISCUSSED WITH STATE COMMITTEE O FFICERS OR STA FF MEMBERS? O ften Som etim es Seldom Never Public policies and issues Party activities (fund raising, registration, getting out the vote, etc.) Campaign strategy Individuals or personalities in the D em ocratic Party Republicans or the Republican Party Statew ide political problems Political problem s in your district or county Other (Specify) □ □ □ B □ □ D □ □ □ □ □ D Q a □ □ □ □ □ D □ (Specify) (14) WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING HAS GIVEN YOU ANY HELP (INFORM ATION, HELP WITH PROGRAMS. ETC.) IN YOUR PARTY WORK? (CHECK ONE OR MORE) (CHECK) INDICATE TYPE OF HELP C ounty C om m ittee State Com m ittee Club N ational Com m ittee None of these has given me any help in my party work □ WHICH OF THESE PARTY ORGANIZATIONS HAVE GIVEN YOU THE MOST H ELP?. (16) ABOUT HOW MANY MEETINGS OF YOUR CONGRESSIONAL DISTRICT DELEGATION TO THE STATE COMMITTEE ARE THERE DURING AN ELECTION Y EA R ?______________ ABOUT WHAT PERCENTAGE OF THE DELEGATION MEMBERS USUALLY ATTENDS THESE MEETINGS? _________________ (16) WHAT SORTS O F THINGS DOES YOUR CONGRESSIONAL DELEGATION TO THE STATE COMMITTEE DO? (17) DOES YOUR CONGRESSIONAL DELEGATION TO THE STATE COMMITTEE EVER MEET DURING NON-ELECTION YEARS? Yes □ No □ IF YES, ABOUT HOW OFTEN DOES IT MEET? _________________ (181 WHAT DO YOU CONSIDER TO BE THE MAIN JOB OF A CONGRESSIONAL DISTRICT CO-CHAIRMAN? 6 0 7 119) WHAT WERE VOUR REASONS FOR SEEKING OR ACCEPTING THE POSITION O F CONGRESSIONAL DISTRICT CO-CHAIRMAN? (20) AS CONGRESSIONAL DISTRICT CO-CHAIRMAN, HOW MUCH SAY DO YOU HAVE IN RUNNING PARTY A FFA IR S OR IN ORGANIZING PARTY ACTIVITIES IN YOUR DISTRICT? Very Little □ Som e □ Fair A m ount O A Great Deal O (21) WHO APPOINTED YOU TO YOUR PRESENT TERM ON THE STATE COMMITTEE? (22! WHAT DO YOU THINK SHOULD BE THE MAIN JOB OF THE STATE CHARIMAN? (Name or Position) (23) DO YQU THINK THAT THE METHOD OF SELECTING STATE COMMITTEE MEMBERS SHOULD BE CHANGED? Yes U No U IF YES, WHAT CHANGES WOULD YOU SUGGEST? (24) WHAT DO YOU CONSIDER TO BE THE MAIN FUNCTION OF THE STATE CENTRAL COMMITTEE? (25) WHAT SUGGESTIONS DO YOU HAVE FOR MAKING THE STATE COMMITTEE MORE EFFECTIVE? (USE THE RE VERSE SIDE OF THIS PAGE IF YOU NEED MORE SPACE.) (26) IN GENERAL TERMS, WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING DESCRIBE YOUR ASSEMBLY DISTRICT? O R e p u b l ican □ Urban □ High Income ^ C o m p e titiv e □ Rural □ Medium Income CD Democratic CD Suburban □ Low Incom e 608

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Asset Metadata

Creator Windsor, Faith Gloria (author)

Core Title The Formal Organization Of The Democratic Party At The State Level In California

Degree Doctor of Philosophy

Degree Program Political Science

Publisher University of Southern California (original), University of Southern California. Libraries (digital)

Tag OAI-PMH Harvest,political science, general

Language English

Contributor Digitized by ProQuest (provenance)

Advisor Anderson, Totton J. (committee chair), Caldwell, Russell Leon (committee member), Lammers, William W. (committee member)

Permanent Link (DOI) https://doi.org/10.25549/usctheses-c18-719033

Unique identifier UC11356056

Identifier 7423619.pdf (filename),usctheses-c18-719033 (legacy record id)

Legacy Identifier 7423619.pdf

Dmrecord 719033

Document Type Dissertation

Rights Windsor, Faith Gloria

Type texts

Source University of Southern California (contributing entity), University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses (collection)

Access Conditions The author retains rights to his/her dissertation, thesis or other graduate work according to U.S. copyright law. Electronic access is being provided by the USC Libraries in agreement with the au...

Repository Name University of Southern California Digital Library

Repository Location USC Digital Library, University of Southern California, University Park Campus, Los Angeles, California 90089, USA