Jones’ Catch-22: If You Can’t Raise Any Funds, You Can’t Attract Any Funds

SACRAMENTO

In the real world, if someone is shy about hitting up people for money, that often is admired as a character strength. But in politics, it’s denigrated as a weakness.

The weakest candidate now running for governor is Secretary of State Bill Jones, regardless of his strong 20-year record at the Capitol.

Jones is a paradox. He cannot beg, bellyache or break arms for campaign bucks. He has too much integrity and pride. That makes him weak.

He’s a big ol’ farm boy, not a glib pitchman. He hasn’t learned the body language and verbal subtleties needed to convey the message that a generous investment in his venture will return dividends when he’s elected.

Dividends like this: On Friday, Gov. Gray Davis appointed billionaire TV executive Haim Saban to a coveted seat on the UC Board of Regents. Since 1999, Saban has sunk more than $400,000 into Davis’ political account.

The key to soliciting is cocky certitude. It’s not if you’re elected, it’s when.

Donors don’t give big money to projected losers. Jones looks like a loser because he can’t raise big money.

Jones, 52, has other fund-raising flaws besides personal qualities.

He’s from the wrong part of the state, the agriculture middle-- Fresno--where some farmers are land-rich, but can’t write colossal checks like the billionaires of Beverly Hills or Silicon Valley.

Example: Last week, Jones received a $25,000 check from the California Farm Bureau Federation. Two days later, Republican front-runner Richard Riordan got $250,000 from A. Jerrold Perenchio, owner of Spanish-language Univision--on top of $250,000 the former L.A. mayor previously had received from Perenchio.

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Another flaw is that Jones isn’t superrich. Not only is he incapable of paying for his own campaign, he doesn’t hang with the superrich. By contrast, Jones’ two GOP rivals--Riordan and businessman Bill Simon Jr.--are loaded.

Both can bankroll themselves. And “they travel in circles with multimillionaires so it’s easier for them to get their friends to contribute,” notes former Gov. George Deukmejian, Jones’ campaign chairman.

If a gubernatorial candidate doesn’t have megabucks himself, at least his friends must.

Jones also has a special flaw. He got on the president’s list.

Jones crossed George Bush just before the 2000 California primary by reneging on an endorsement and siding with Arizona Sen. John McCain. The secretary of state said he left Bush because the Republican establishment candidate was trying to discourage Democrats and independents from voting in open primaries. Courageous, but calamitous.

After Bush was elected, the word went out: The traitor must pay. Cut off his money. Get behind Riordan.

“Bush hurt him, no question,” says strategist Ed Rollins, a longtime Jones friend and advisor.

Jones always could eke out enough money to run for secretary of state or the Assembly. But competing for governor requires many millions for television. Now he’s the only gubernatorial candidate who hasn’t been able to afford TV ads.

He brushes it aside. “You can always raise money,” he says. “But you can’t raise a record. It’ll take a record to beat Gray Davis.”

Right now Jones isn’t beating anybody, according to the latest Times Poll. He’s running a distant third in the GOP primary.

For such a lame fund-raiser, Jones got started awfully late. Instead of beginning to build a war chest immediately after his 1998 reelection, he waited more than two years. If Jones had looked strong, Simon would not have run.

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“I see a lot of myself in him,” Deukmejian says. “It was always very hard for me [to solicit money].... “There’s a natural tendency that you don’t want to feel obligated to an individual. And if you do make a direct request, you do feel that you’re then obligated.”

Deukmejian says he never personally asked people for money. Rich friends asked for him. And he had strong financial backing in the Armenian community.

Democrat Davis is the supreme solicitor, with $33.1 million banked at last count. The secret, says chief strategist Garry South: “You have to be unashamedly dogged and persistent and able to put up with a lot of humiliation and rejection.”

The rejections dwindle once you’re governor.

Jones has $1.1 million--not enough for one week’s worth of statewide TV.

He is an excellent example of why we need public financing of state campaigns. But he’s too much of a hidebound Republican to acknowledge that fact.

He’s a paradox. And a political pauper. On March 5, Jones is almost certain also to be a loser. One with strong character, a solid record and a starved cashbox.