It was an election like no other in American history. By the time the last vote was counted on election night in New York City's mayoral race, one candidate, the incumbent Michael Bloomberg, would have spent at least $85 million or as much as $100 million to retain an office he had solemnly pledged to vacate after eight years or two terms.
"This mayor spends more on elections than anyone in history," asserted Dr. Douglas Muzzio, professor of public affairs at Baruch College of the City University of New York.
Ever since he burst onto the political scene about eight years ago, first as a Republican and now as an independent [though also running as a Republican] seeking a third term, Bloomberg's image has been one of a billionaire with an ability to get what he wants. And he isn't reluctant to pay for it. When he ran in 2001 to succeed Rudolph Giuliani who had worn out his welcome in the city, Bloomberg, a political unknown, spent $74 million of his own money to make himself acceptable to voters, and in the process, he defeated Mark Green, his Democratic opponent. Four years later when he went up against Fernando Ferrer, a former Bronx Borough president, Bloomberg upped the ante by spending $85 million to gain re-election. He succeeded.
In this year's race, the 67-year-old mayor, who's estimated worth stands at about $17 billion, may end up burning $100 million just to remain in charge of City Hall. His opponent, William "Bill" Thompson, a competent Comptroller, who protected the pensions of hundreds and thousands of retired city workers with aplomb after he was first elected to citywide office in 2001, had only about $6 million in small donations and matching public funds to spend on a campaign that realistically was grossly under-funded from the get-go.
Should New Yorkers be concerned about the disparity in campaign financing and spending?
Of course they should be. For, if all it takes is for one candidate to be in a position to finance his own elaborate election campaign, it raises questions about the true nature of our democratic system. Although Bloomberg must be given good marks for much of his stewardship as Mayor – unlike Giuliani, he didn't engage in race baiting, high-handedness, and bullying – the campaign he waged for City Hall was far too negative, to the point of distorting Thompson's excellent record as Comptroller and as the president of the now defunct City Board of Education.
And, as if to make matters worse, he resurrected Giuliani from the political cemetery after the latter's disastrous run for the Republican presidential nomination in 2008. Giuliani promptly did what he is good at, raising indirect questions about race, warning Orthodox Jews in Brooklyn, for instance, that if Thompson was elected, the city ran the risk of returning to the era when a liberal Democrat was mayor and when crime, homelessness and poor service were the order of the day.
Obviously, the former mayor, who specializes in dividing communities and cities along ethnic lines, and who may try to do the same at the state level should he decide to run for governor next year, was referring to a single term David Dinkins spent at Gracie Mansion and City Hall. When he was elected as the city's first Black mayor 20 years ago, an economic recession was biting into the Big Apple; the crack epidemic was an awful fact of life; the homicide rate was about 2,000 a year; and the city's public housing stock was in a state of decline. By the time he left, the numbers of murders had started to decline, a trend that continues today. He led the rehabilitation of existing housing units, and the construction of new affordable housing went skyward. In fact, Dinkins set aside billions of dollars for housing that left him with a record of having rebuilt more housing in four years than Giuliani accomplished in eight.
Just as important, Dinkins hired more police officers and introduced community-policing, moves that began the reduction of crime across the city. Unfortunately, he is seldom given the credit he deserves.
When Giuliani was forced to leave office at the end of 2001, the city was teetering on the brink of insolvency, with a huge budget deficit that was eventually eliminated through increased taxes and cuts in service. Yet, he basked in the glory as "America's Mayor," a title foisted upon him by sections of the media.
These lessons of history were brushed aside in the 2009 campaign, as Thompson tried to get voters to focus on Bloomberg's faltering housing record, the apparent lack of attention on small businesses, skyrocketing fees and fines, and on his two-term pledge, which he hadn't kept. Today, the city's homeless population, based on the number of people living in shelters, stands at almost 40,000, about twice what is was during the Dinkins years.
Clearly, Dinkins has earned more accolades than New Yorkers give him credit for. Yet, Bloomberg felt it was necessary to thrust Giuliani onto voters in order to drop hints about the so-called perils of a Black mayor at City Hall, a naked appeal to race.
Bloomberg was able to drown out Thompson's message by spending almost $35,000 an hour on radio, television and newspaper advertisement.
What these factors suggest is that the future of public office may be in danger of going to the public bidder. This is happening in a country which goes around the world preaching the gospel, if you will, of democracy. The current system cries out for limits to be placed on campaign spending, even by candidates rich enough to pay for it all out of their deep pockets.
