Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: THURSDAY, January 6, 1994 TAG: 9401110251
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A13 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Ray L. Garland
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
Others have tried their hand. The former rector of the University of Virginia, Joshua Darden, sees Wilder's tenure as both a failure and an embarrassment. Columnist Paxton Davis believes he made "both long-term damage and vengeance the only accomplishment of his public life." State Sen. Joe Gartlan, D-Fairfax, speaks feelingly of his "petty vindictiveness." If polls be gospel, the public agrees .
In the polls that count - those opened on Election Day - Wilder's party has steadily lost ground. He becomes only the second Democratic governor this century to turn over the office to a Republican; and the first to depart leaving the GOP within hailing distance of a majority in both houses of the General Assembly. If he cares for such things at all, he would have to accept a large measure of blame for that.
But those who profess themselves disappointed by Wilder's political legacy had ample opportunity in 1985 or 1989 to step forward and register their dissent openly. They knew he had publicly rebuked the Democratic candidate for attorney general in 1977 and scuttled the party's best prospect for winning a U.S. Senate seat in 1982. And there were other things they knew - small in themselves but revealing - that told the story of a man given to roughshod tactics and careless dealings.
When Wilder prepared to run for lieutenant governor in 1985, Democrats like Darden and then-Gov. Charles Robb held their breath and bit their tongues through fear and hope of political gain. Wilder represented the black vote, and the black vote was the single most bankable asset in the treasury of the Democratic Party. Gerald Baliles and Mary Sue Terry did the same thing, but the seeming precariousness of their own candidacies at the time excuses their silence.
But all these worthies - had they summoned the courage to give tongue to their thoughts - could have joined forces to deny Wilder the nomination for governor in 1989; or, failing that, the election. Knowing what they did and failing to lift a finger - indeed, helping him - they have no standing to complain now.
Accountability in politics is a great thing, but it should be a two-way street. Those not on the ballot should also be held accountable for their choices, especially when ample information about the likely conduct of candidates once in office is theirs for the taking.
Wilder is a man well-known to me from our long service together in the General Assembly. I have long admired his quick mind, enormous charm and formidable debating skills. He had the gift that few are given: the ability to change the chemistry in a room merely by entering it.
Had Wilder been white and willing to play the party game, there's no reason to believe he wouldn't have made it to the top in state politics. But race made this man, who became very much an insider in the state Senate, the ultimate outsider in the state politics.
The governor himself has claimed to be the victim of a racial double standard. Perhaps. But it's equally true he has also been the beneficiary of a double standard. Had a white Democrat done some of the things he has done, it's hard to imagine that person twice winning his party's nomination for statewide office without opposition. Harder still to imagine he would still be a contender for high office.
Boldness - or rashness, if you prefer - has been the hallmark of Wilder's personality and his governorship. In an age of timid, poll-guided politicians, he has been consistently his own man, never namby-pamby, never groveling, always plunging forward, seemingly oblivious to criticism, and there's more to admire here than to despise.
Politics aside, there was only one issue that really mattered during Wilder's tenure: Would he seek to raise taxes to offset a recessionary decline in state revenues, or cut the suit to fit the available supply of cloth?
Both those who give Wilder much credit for adopting the second course, and also those who blame him for it, should ask themselves this question: Were the votes ever present in the General Assembly to approve the very large tax increases required to sustain the growth in state spending we saw in the Robb-Baliles go-go years? The answer is plainly no. Wilder took the only road genuinely open to him. Like most politicians, he claimed what credit he could for the inevitable.
A close look at his governorship will reveal glaring errors of judgment, such as the proposed sweetheart deal with Jack Kent Cooke for a new Redskins stadium at Potomac Yard and other fiddles with the Virginia Retirement System. But it also will show a man who has been sound on the most salient points of policy.
That said, there's the matter of what he might have done had he been able to temper the in-your-face style, born in him on the segregated streets of Richmond 62 years ago. History afforded him a grand opportunity to be a super-salesman for Virginia (and himself) and history must record that, in large measure, he squandered it, trading real gold for fool's gold.
In sum, Wilder had felt too much, and that too deeply, to trim his sails to a more accommodating wind. Wearing his scars as a badge of honor, always scorning the road most easily traveled, he would go out as he had begun, defying the odds most thought insurmountable, trusting himself while others doubted. At such a time as this, perhaps even his critics might echo the words of a famous editor, spoken of another happy warrior, "We who hate your gaudy guts, salute you."
\ Ray L. Garland is a Roanoke Times & World-News columnist.
by CNB