What’s up in California? Your guide to the most bizarre political scene this side of Afghanistan BY ADAM REILLY

DEPENDING ON YOUR point of view (or, more to the point, your political party), the California recall is either democracy at its purest or a national embarrassment. Either way, the stakes in California are high: if a majority of voters decides to boot Governor Gray Davis on October 7, control of the world’s fifth- or sixth-largest (depending on how you do the math) economy will shift hands in a way few business leaders could have predicted, and California’s many coveted votes in the national electoral college — which have gone to the Democrats in the past three elections — may be more likely to swing Republican next year. It’s not surprising, then, that the recall’s been getting plenty of national attention. But a hefty amount of that attention has focused on its more outlandish elements, from child-star-turned-candidate Gary Coleman’s soul-searching to porn-star-turned-candidate Mary Carey’s vow, if elected, to install a webcam in every room of the governor’s residence.

It’s fascinating stuff. But thanks to this fixation on freakishness, and confusion about California’s complex political troubles, most non-Californians are unsure about the underlying substantive issues at hand. To clear up some of the mystery, here are answers to a few of the big questions surrounding the California recall.

Q: Why does everyone hate Gray Davis?

A: Conservatives hated Clinton and liberals hate Bush, but hatred of Davis — at least in California — rivals anything spawned by our current president or his predecessor. Despite a recent Los Angeles Times poll indicating that voters may yet opt to keep Davis in office, many observers of California politics remain convinced he doesn’t have a chance. Most anti-recall groups don’t even claim Davis is doing a good job; instead, they insist he’s not as bad as everyone says.

Pinpointing the source of anti-Davis sentiment, though, can be tough because there are so many possibilities to sort through. Sacramento Bee columnist Dan Walters says the governor’s handling of California’s energy crisis is largely to blame, and argues that Davis should have acted more decisively — for example, by allowing the state’s semi-deregulated electrical utilities to sign long-term purchasing contracts with providers such as Enron and Duke Energy as wholesale prices skyrocketed. Had Davis done so, Walters claims, the anarchy of 2000 and 2001 — which resulted in waves of blackouts and, eventually, the state’s decision to intervene and sign its own protracted and costly contracts with electrical providers — could have been avoided. Walters cites California’s deregulation process, enacted after heavy industry lobbying in 1996 under Davis’s predecessor, Republican governor Pete Wilson, as the primary culprit in California’s energy ills, and stresses that market manipulation by the likes of Enron played a role. But he also condemns Davis’s inaction.

"Every poll I’ve ever seen says people believe Gray Davis blinked — he couldn’t pull the trigger," Walters says. "He didn’t act in time and let this thing drift into a monumental crisis. That’s what the public believes, that’s what the media have criticized him for, and that’s what began his downward spiral."

Others blame the public’s anti-Davis loathing on political fundraising and perceived conflict of interest — mundane matters that, of course, plague every politician. Trouble is, few are as obvious about their horse-trading as Davis is. This, at least, is the theory floated by Tom Elias, a syndicated columnist whose work regularly appears in 70 California newspapers. One of the most egregious examples of Davis’s flagrant political back-scratching came in May 2001, when the state — without soliciting competitive bids — awarded Oracle, a California-based software manufacturer, a bloated $95 million contract. Within days, an Oracle representative provided a $25,000 campaign contribution to Davis via the governor’s chief technology adviser. (The contract was later rescinded.)

"What Davis is responsible for, and should be held accountable for, is that he’s become the symbol of a corrupt system," Elias says. "There’s a sense that in California, political power is for sale in exchange for campaign donations.... This guy goes out and scarfs up campaign donations from everywhere."

Q: Who is Cruz Bustamante, anyway?

A: The short answer is that he’s Republican Arnold Schwarzenegger’s worst nightmare. Going against every expectation, the Golden State’s Democratic lieutenant governor is leading the polls to replace Davis if the recall succeeds. Compared to the musclebound movie star, Bustamante is an improbable victor: he’s bald, a bit overweight, and prone to making bland pronouncements in velvet, sleep-inducing tones. Even in the safe confines of his awkwardly named Web site, www.NoOnRecallYesOnBustamante.com, Bustamante comes off as stiff. Here’s the former apprentice butcher on catching the political bug during a summer internship in Washington, DC: "I found out I was better at cutting red tape than I was at cutting red meat."

Nevertheless, Bustamante has had a remarkably quick climb up California’s political ladder. Just 10 years ago, he was a staffer for Democratic state assemblyman Bruce Broznan, who represented the Fresno area. When Broznan decided to retire, he surprised Bustamante by suggesting his protégé run for his seat. The move launched Bustamante’s seemingly inexorable ascent: after his election to the state assembly, Bustamante proceeded to become Speaker in 1996, lieutenant governor in 1999, and now, possibly, governor.

Bustamante’s success may be due, at least in part, to his understated style. Unlike Davis, who’s known for relentlessly targeting his opponents, Bustamante has the reputation of a patient, methodical listener and consensus builder. "He’s seen as pretty self-effacing," says Democratic consultant Gale Kaufman. "He’s more quiet than not. He just kind of puts his head down and gets the job done." To be sure, Bustamante’s low-key campaign message — don’t recall Davis, but if you do, send me to take his place — seems to be working. Bustamante’s relationship with Davis — widely known to be less than warm — has been an asset as well, and voters haven’t been scared off by his idiosyncratic views (pro-choice, pro-death-penalty, pro-agribusiness) or his suggestion that taxes must be raised to solve California’s budget woes.

If Bustamante ends up winning via the recall process, it would be entirely consistent with the rest of his fortuitous career. In becoming a state assemblyman and, later, the assembly’s first Latino speaker, Bustamante was aided both by the increasing number of Latino voters and by term limits that paved the way for new assembly leadership. It’s uncertain whether Bustamante — whose responsibilities as lieutenant governor are minimal — would have had a chance to become governor in any other scenario. That said, Kaufman predicts that he wouldn’t be bad at it. "He certainly has a lot of very decent relationships with the Democratic side of the aisle," she says. "I don’t know how it plays with the public, but once Gray Davis got in, he certainly had a very acerbic, nonproductive relationship with legislators and other politicians. I think most people believe that Cruz, once elected, would have a much more open style of leadership. And given the economic situation the state is in, I think that would be seen as a welcome change."

Q: Can we blame anyone else besides Gray Davis for this mess?

A: Yeah. Darrell Issa. Without the car-alarm-magnate-turned-California-congressman’s involvement, people like Coleman and Carey wouldn’t be running around pretending to be politicians. If Issa hadn’t coughed up $1.75 million of his own money to fund the recall effort, it’s unlikely the approximately 900,000 signatures required to trigger next month’s election would ever have been gathered. But the story of the conservative Republican from California’s 49th District is hardly triumphant. Issa’s interest in becoming governor led to increased scrutiny of the congressman by the press — and forced him to explain several embarrassing incidents in his past, some already known, some newly revealed. Like his indictment in 1972 with his brother, William, for the alleged theft of a Maserati from an Ohio car dealership. Or his arrest in 1980, again with William, for allegedly faking the theft of Darrell’s Mercedes. (In both cases, the charges were dropped.)

After touting himself as the Republican replacement for Davis, Issa withdrew from the race the day after Schwarzenegger entered it. In a tearful speech, Issa cast his abortive candidacy as a burden he’d been ready to bear when "no one else would lead," and alluded to misguided critics who assumed his motive was "blind ambition." But if Issa was so relieved to get out of the race, why did he weep when he made the announcement? Could it be because he wanted desperately to be governor, figured Schwarzenegger’s entry into the fray made that impossible, and wasn’t too excited about the hit his wallet had taken?

Frederick Hill, Issa’s press secretary, says no. "The congressman has no regrets whatsoever," Hill says. "He thinks his investment in the recall effort was one of the best things he’s done in his life. The goal he had made when investing in this was to remove a failed governor, and he believes it’s going to be successful. The congressman realized he was not the [Republican] front-runner, and he did not want to enter into the race when his candidacy could have hindered the ability of Californians to have a fiscal conservative as their governor rather than a member of the Davis-Bustamante regime."