Has Myrth York lost her spine?

Some former supporters think so. Those who want to see her elected, however, say she is just being a political realist

by Jody Ericson

Quick. In a sentence or two, try to sum up the essence of Myrth York's campaign for governor. Yes, we know she's down on the state traffic court and other apparent instances of local corruption. We know she's an anti-tobacco proponent and that she has released a comprehensive report on how she'd reform education in Rhode Island. But aside from her pledge to have more "energy and vision" than her opponent, Governor Lincoln Almond, what larger issues does York stand for? As governor, what groups would she defend and protect other than the generic "working families" that appear in most of her public statements?

During her two terms as a state senator, York was known as the liberal conscience of the Rhode Island legislature. Since the beginning of her Senate run in 1990, she was a primary sponsor of a gay civil rights bill, and she railed against then-Governor Bruce Sundlun's decision to lop thousands of disabled Rhode Islanders off General Public Assistance. Overall, York was considered the ultimate outsider who consistently pushed for reform and took strong stands on discrimination and choice, even if it meant being branded with the now-dreaded "L" word.

"York's loyalty to a constituency as politically unproductive as the poor may be testament to the strength of her convictions, but it also makes her prime for labeling as a liberal" said one Providence Phoenix article in December 1993. "York's supporters don't see anything wrong with being a liberal."

But that was then, and this is now. York lost in '94, and, naturally, she doesn't want to lose again, particularly now that she and Almond are in a dead heat in the final stretch of the race. Although York says she is still committed to causes like eradicating poverty and homelessness (she serves on the board at Amos House, for instance), she hasn't actually mentioned these issues in her campaign. And, in some cases, her position on such key issues as a woman's right to an abortion is perceived by staunch pro-choice advocates as having eroded.

All in all, York has diluted her politics to the point where even her once-loyal band of social activists seem confused about her message. In fact, some of her core support from '94 -- the AFL-CIO -- has refused to endorse her this year, while the gay and lesbian community has not yet activated its powerful lobbying machine on York's behalf, another difference from her first run.

"I can't speak for the campaign. I'm not as involved as I was four years ago. I'm not with her at all places," says Marti Rosenberg, director of the progressive coalition Ocean State Action. Indeed, Rosenberg isn't as involved. In 1994, she was York's field director, but this time, in a puzzling move, she holds no official position in the campaign. A well-known pro-choice activist, Rosenberg is credited for playing a pivotal role in defining the issues in the '94 election, and she helped steer York through a difficult primary against Sundlun. But this time around Rosenberg says that York "has been able to fill her staff without taking us from our positions."

During another interview, Kate Coyne-McCoy, executive director of the Rhode Island chapter of the National Association of Social Workers, starts off by acknowledging that York has indeed moved her campaign toward the center. But at the end of the interview, she changes her mind and says that York hasn't. "I don't ever remember Myrth York calling herself a liberal," says Coyne-McCoy.

Maybe not, but she certainly didn't seem to mind when publications like the Phoenix called her one in comparison to the blustery and somewhat arrogant Sundlun. York and her campaign manager, Rob Horowitz, insist today that they didn't like the liberal label any better in '94 but that "reporters are going to use labels no matter what we object to," says Horowitz.

"I'm sure I said at various times, `Look at what I want to do. Evaluate what I'm saying. Judge its content, ' " adds York. But while this may be true, they weren't nearly as aggressive about it as they seem to be today: according to one reliable source, early in the campaign a York staffer went so far as to publicly berate a Journal reporter for describing the gubernatorial candidate in articles as an "East Side liberal." It was just the first of many attempts to reshape her image and agenda.

Of course, it's not surprising that York would alter her tune to fit the times. Obviously, her strategy didn't work in '94. And during this race, she and Almond are vying for that oh-so-important "middle block" of moderate voters, knowing they have the left and right extremes locked up. To this end, Almond has borrowed from the Democrats' play book in an attempt to come off as a kinder, gentler Republican, while York has taken on the everyman issues of education and the economy while remaining silent on such traditionally liberal struggles as welfare reform.

And even when she does talk about education, she does so in a cautious way -- reacting to what's been said rather than breaking new ground. Her education plan, "Leadership Works!," for instance, parallels an earlier Providence Journal series called "Teaching Matters!" in more than title; both tackle many of the same issues, from firing bad teachers to after-school programs for kids.

But in the end, York's strategy of playing it safe could backfire, as she appears to be a candidate without a country. Asked if York is a more effective politician than four years ago, Darrell West, a pollster and political-science professor at Brown University, hesitates for a moment and then says no. "The expectations were low in '94, and she beat those. There's something appealing about being the underdog," he says. But now, York is more established and in a close race with Almond. (West's latest poll puts Almond six points ahead.) "And when there's a close race, politicians want to avoid making a mistake instead of really going for it. They can be too cautious," he says.

As an example, West cites a recent column by Journal political writer M. Charles Bakst about the Clinton/Lewinsky affair. Asked by Bakst if she'd fire a staff member who had a sexual relationship with an intern and lied about it, York said, "I can't make those judgements in the hypothetical."

During an interview with the Phoenix, York also fudged on the issue of gay marriage, saying that before the state pressed that hot button, it needed to beef up the Human Rights Commission to adequately handle cases of discrimination. As for the ban on partial-birth abortion that the General Assembly passed this year, York says she "could live with" the law if it allowed doctors to perform the procedure when a woman's health was at risk.

The Rhode Island legislation, in its present form, only makes an exception for a patient's life, so York, when pressed, admits she doesn't support the ban. When discussing the matter with her, it's apparent how extremely touchy a subject it is for York -- even though you'd think that a person who knows her way around the issue of choice so well would be more comfortable and persuasive in explaining why she has moderated her stand. Politicians, after all, are entitled to adjust their positions to social and political realities.

"I'm talking about the big picture," says York, when asked about these specific issues. But the picture may be so broad that no one can identify with it. York constantly talks about the government's obligation to provide a decent education and health care to working families, for instance. But when asked just who falls into the "working families" category, York doesn't have a ready answer. Finally, she says, "people who struggle to make ends meet," as if that narrows it down.

Of course, Democratic hopefuls across the nation have adopted the "working family" tactic in an attempt to woo essentially lunch-bucket Democrats, who, in the past, have been attracted to conservative candidates such as Ronald Reagan and Pat Buchanan. Also in her defense, supporters say that despite her campaign rhetoric, York, once in office, will do the right thing and fight for the issues they care about. But can those who don't know her personally really trust that this will happen, or will York, because of her campaign attempts to appease a wider audience, owe too many favors?

"We've broadened our support," says York. "I didn't have a primary this time, so the base of support includes more Democrats." And this means people like Joseph Paolino, the former mayor of Providence who ran an unsuccessful campaign for Congress in '96 on what some considered an immigrant-bashing platform. And it means state Senator Charles Fogarty (D-Burrillville), long considered one of the good old boys at the State House who is sharing an office with York in his quest for the lieutenant governor's seat. If York and Fogarty both win, it will be interesting to see just how chummy York becomes with the legislative leadership -- or, perhaps more important, how receptive the boys in the legislature, who haven't been particularly open to women, never mind women politicians, will be to York.

So when did "liberal" become a nasty word, permanently replaced with the more ambiguous term "progressive"? It's a question that some of York's supporters avoid answering, maybe because they don't want to deny their liberal sentiments altogether. So instead, they say that labels are bad, that they limit and stereotype people. And they claim traditionally conservative issues like the economy as their own.

York says the media needs to separate her Senate voting record from her campaign for governor. "In the legislative process, you're an advocate for a certain piece of legislation. When you're governor, you provide leadership," she says. In other words, York wants to be judged on what she says now rather than on what bills she championed as a senator, and she says that her opponents have unfairly tried to stereotype her by injecting her Senate record into this race.

But at times, York herself has done this. For instance, when Almond announced two weeks ago his plans to expand RIte Care, York sent out a press release that said, "As an architect of the original RIte Care legislation, I am happy to see that the program continues to yield such positive benefits for our children." Later, in a campaign ad, she referred to the state program again, saying how she "led the fight for quality health insurance for children."

With so many crossed messages, then, there is a sense within the York camp that if they leave things ambiguous enough, people will read into the candidate what they want and vote for her. But if this really is their strategy, York's campaign is repeating a dangerous mistake in not allowing the candidate to define herself -- a mistake that could turn off not only the people who didn't vote for her last time but even some of those who did.

In 1994, Myrth York was an unknown quantity among voters, a politician who initially sailed on the waves of the "Thank God she's not Bruce Sundlun" factor. And after she won the primary against the governor, she was so slow in defining herself beyond Sundlun that, in a sense, her staffers did it for her in a kind of guilt-by-association scenario.

To them, York was a white knight of sorts, the woman who would prove that they were right all along by implementing (once she became governor) the programs they'd been touting. Since Sundlun had "wrapped up the establishment element in the party," York's campaign workers "were really progressive and politically active," says West. So much so that people referred to them as "the Red Brigade," he says.

Naturally, then, they saw nothing wrong with the Republicans' labeling York a liberal. And some political insiders say that York didn't want to cause dissension by saying that she did object to her opponents' characterization. "I don't think there's any reality to that," says Horowitz, when asked whether York didn't have the heart to disagree with her supporters.

But today, activists like Ocean State Action's Rosenberg are conspicuously absent from the campaign. And Rodney Davis, former president of the Rhode Island Alliance for Lesbian and Gay Civil Rights and a former York volunteer, says that the gubernatorial candidate also hasn't mobilized the LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgendered) community like she did in '94.

"Gay activists, feminists and choice supporters were the basis of her support four years ago," he says. "I spent more time on that campaign and expended more energy. I made a lot of sacrifices -- sacrifices I live with today." But this time around, York's campaign hasn't bothered to contact Davis, he says. "I have not even been to her campaign headquarters."

Horowitz says that, with just six weeks to go before the election, it's too soon to be recruiting volunteers for passing out handbills and such, that York's campaign began earlier in '94 because they faced a primary against Sundlun. Still, there is a sense that people like Davis have been set adrift. They still support York but not with nearly as much enthusiasm, which could spell trouble on election day.

If Democrats aren't motivated by York -- or are too disgusted to vote in general because of the Lewinsky/Clinton scandal -- "the problem will be turnout," says West. And this is particularly true now that York has failed to receive the state AFL-CIO's backing for governor. In an historic move, last week the union coalition voted to remain neutral in the race, possibly because York has tried to stay so neutral on such issues as the development of Quonset Point.

Months ago, at her announcement speech, York denounced Almond's proposal to develop the old Navy base known as Quonset as a plan that would "pave" more than 500 acres of Narragansett Bay. But since then, York has been mostly silent on the issue, perhaps not wanting to appear anti-business or anti-environment. And this has left some environmentalists frustrated with her politics as well, says Greg Gerritt, co-chair of the Rhode Island Green Party. Now that York has lost the AFL-CIO endorsement, it will be interesting to see whether she takes a stronger position on Quonset.

In the end, much of York's dilemma stems from the fact that Almond hasn't turned out to be the conservative ogre she and many other people expected him be. As is so often the case, Almond's negative -- the public perception of inertia in the governor's office -- may turn out to be York's strongest positive, as he has co-opted some of her old territory. Almond did sign the gay civil rights bill in 1995, after all, and he has shown tolerance and compassion in the fight against AIDS as well. "Lincoln Almond definitely has not been an enemy to our community. He has not been the demonized Republican governor from hell," says Davis.

What's more, in instances where Almond has remained loyal to his Republican roots, such as in supporting the partial-birth abortion ban, York has not been very forceful in her response. So if you can't go after the candidate for his politics, then you can at least adopt some of his politics as your own.

York's supporters, for instance, say that issues like education and the economy are "progressive issues," but West maintains that they are more "mainstream issues that everyone can relate to."

Out of all York's allies, former Providence legislator Ray Rickman mounts the most spirited defense of her campaign. He calls himself the "biggest liberal you'll ever meet," and says he is just as supportive of York as he was in '94. Rickman's reasons are simple: in tackling education and the economy, York, as governor, would take care of everyone's issues. Minorities, for instance, need jobs, which means that the state needs to improve the schools they attend, says Rickman. "People want . . . good-paying jobs and that will make everything better. Everything."

You hear this argument often in the York camp -- that an issue like gay marriage affects only a small percentage of people, while York wants to be more inclusive this time around. Coyne-McCoy, of the Rhode Island chapter of the National Association of Social Workers, goes so far as to call gay civil rights a "neutral issue" now that a law has passed.

But tell that to Davis, who was arrested in July in what he claims is an ongoing effort by Providence police to clean up the troubled Empire Street -- an area crucial to Mayor Vincent "Buddy" Cianci's plans to revitalize downtown -- by targeting gay activity.

Rhode Island's LGBT community may have more rights than they did four years ago, says Davis, but they still need the state's leaders to take a strong and vocal stand on their behalf or else the discrimination will continue -- no matter how many laws are passed. "Myrth is a friend of mine. She worked tirelessly in the General Assembly for gay civil rights. And, as a friend, I know she wouldn't abandon us as governor," says Davis. "But I hope to see that same courageous, outspoken Myrth as a candidate, because that's the Myrth I know. That's the Myrth who will win the election."