Our Mexican Future

South Gate, California, is a town of 98,000 about 12 miles southeast of Los Angeles. It is 92 percent Hispanic, and its politics have taken a distinctly Mexican turn. Until January 28, city treasurer Albert Robles was the real power in town, and he and his pals seemed intent on lining their pockets and doing favors for friends. Mr. Robles is a colorful figure who, last year, stood trial for telling a California state senator he would rape her and kill her husband, and also for threatening to blow the brains out of a state assemblyman. His lawyer argued that threats were just politics as usual in South Gate, and Mr. Robles got off with a hung jury. His cronies on the city council approved more than $1 million in city money for his defense, but he now faces new assault and weapons charges.

During Mr. Robles’s tenure, the city council voted itself a 2,000 percent raise, and stripped the elected city clerk of most of her duties when she refused to act as a rubber stamp. The council also hired a convicted embezzler as a litigation specialist, as well as a police officer who was once fired for tipping off drug dealers about raids. The FBI is looking into a shady deal whereby the city council tried to channel $4 million in federal money to a Robles crony, ostensibly to build a recycling plant. The Robles crew has managed to work its way through an $8 million city reserve fund, and the treasury is now empty.




Mayor Ruvalcaba (left) with
council woman Maria Benavides.
Both were bounced.

The city’s two police unions, which call the current council a bunch of “klepto-crats,” arranged for a recall vote, which appeared likely to win. The four recall targets, Mayor Xochilt Ruvalcaba, Mr. Robles, a councilwoman, and the vice mayor, resorted to classic Mexican politics: giveaways. They announced free garbage pickup for a month, and anyone who registered to vote was entered in a city-sponsored raffle for a television set. Shortly before the vote, they approved $90-a-month rent subsidies to more than 400 low-income families for a year. In the biggest pre-election giveaway, the city raffled off a three-bedroom house. The drawing was a gala affair on city hall grounds, complete with rainbow-colored lights, thumping ranchera music, and crowds of eager residents. After announcing the winner, Mayor Ruvalcaba told the crowd, both in English and Spanish, “If God permits me, gives me life and I’m reelected, we’ll do this again.” She later claimed the raffle had nothing to do with buying votes; she meant to call attention to the high cost of housing in California.

No one was fooled. Julia Barraza said it was just like campaign season back home in Mexico, when politicians would roll up on flat-bed trucks, handing out blankets, food, and sombreros. “Igualito, igualito, (it’s the same)” she says; “It’s like I never left Mexico.” Councilman Henry Gonzalez, who has opposed Mr. Robles and who was not a recall target, says, “They’re trying to manipulate people by using old gimmicks from Mexico.”

The 37-year-old Mr. Robles modeled the city administration on the Institutional Revolutionary Party, or PRI, which stayed in power in Mexico for decades. He and his friends seemed so likely to fight the recall with another favorite Mexican tactic—voter intimidation—that the state stepped in. “Election fraud investigators will be working . . . to ensure that the election is coordinated with integrity and the outcome reflects the wishes of the people of South Gate,” explained California Secretary of State Kevin Shelley. He agreed this was an “extreme” measure, but explained that “the average voter in South Gate has felt somewhat intimidated.”

The recall won by a crushing 88 percent, but the lame-duck city council called a final meeting on Feb. 3 anyway to dish out last-minute pork. Despite a standing-room-only crowd of jeering citizens, they promoted 12 friends in city government, and tried to approve a $1 million low-interest federal loan to a Robles pal, even though a Superior Court judge had ordered the council not to award the money.

The highlight of the meeting was a shoving match between councilman Gonzalez and Mayor Ruvalcaba over a piece of paper, which ended when Mayor Ruvalcaba hit the councilman in the head with her purse, and then threw a solid right to the face. “Arrest the mayor, arrest the mayor,” chanted the crowd, as Miss Ruvalcaba raced into a back room. Several uniformed South Gate police officers jumped over the wooden railing separating spectators from councilmen, caught her, and cited her for misdemeanor battery. She now claims that in the middle of the shoving match, Mr. Gonzales made a grab for her breast, and she had to defend herself. She and the three other losers will not leave office quietly; they are on the ballot for new elections on March 4.

In the meantime, even the Los Angeles Times wants to know: “Have Third World politics come to South Gate?” The paper notes that threat-maker Robles and punch-thrower Ruvalcaba are not fresh over the border. They both grew up in America, graduated from UCLA, and took the traditional route into politics by working for established politicians. Their Third World antics appear to be an expression of something other than environment. [Richard Marosi, The Freebies Pile Up as South Gate Goes to Polls, Los Angeles Times, Jan. 25, 2003. Richard Marosi, State to Monitor Recall Election, Los Angeles Times, Jan. 28, 2003. Richard Marosi and Megan Garvey, South Gate Mayor Slugs Councilman, Los Angeles Times, Feb. 4, 2003. Mayor Punches Councilman At Her Last Meeting, AP, Feb. 4, 2003.]

Third World politics is coming not just to South Gate but to the entire state. Some time in the late 1990s, whites ceased to be a majority, and in 2001 Hispanics accounted for an outright majority of births in California. Combined with the ones who immigrate legally and illegally, it will be only a matter of time before Hispanics are the undisputed majority. “The long-anticipated Latino majority has arrived,” says David Hayes-Bautista, director of UCLA’s Center for the Study of Latino Health and Culture. “In 2003, it is learning how to walk and will shortly learn to talk.” Somehow, it is not difficult to imagine what it will say. “They will be defining the American dream,” says Mr. Hayes-Bautista; “It’s in their hands, basically.”