Wilder plays the politician

Doug Wilder has always positioned himself to come out on top. Or, put another way, he’s always got a plan to shift the blame if things don’t go his way.

A couple of weeks ago, the former Democratic governor addressed a roomful of Republicans and happened to mention that he’ll be coming to them for help once he moves into the Richmond mayor’s office. These weren’t just any Republicans, mind you. They were nearly 40 right-of-center ones who serve in Virginia’s House of Delegates and who’ll certainly be in the governing majority while Wilder’s in City Hall. (It’s a near given that he’ll win the November municipal election for a four-year term.)

Wilder’s comment came during an after-dinner address GOP House Speaker Bill Howell had invited him to deliver. Howell and his conservative flock had assembled in a Northern Virginia hotel for two days’ discussions on affecting meaningful government reforms, and as a tip of the hat to the managerial skills Wilder demonstrated as governor, Howell rolled the dice and asked the most unpredictable politician in Virginia to impart a bit of wisdom.

That dice roll paid off. Wilder didn’t disappoint. He was charming and gracious, and he didn’t use the high-profile opportunity handed him — it’s not every day that a big-name Democrat is invited to speak to an all-Republican gathering — to make splashy news to the media who’d gathered to witness it all. He stuck to his script and respected the reason for his invitation. The several dozen Republicans, in turn, heaped more than a little praise on the man they once fought tooth-and-nail. Heck, one even offered to contribute to his mayoral campaign.

It’s admirable that Wilder, at 73, would return to public service after a decade away to take charge of a capital city that’s ridiculed for its corruption, poorly performing schools and skyrocketing crime rates. It’s a place Wilder himself has called a "cesspool."

Richmond, you see, is the city of his birth. It’s where he spent his youth. It’s where he ran a successful law practice. It’s the one he represented for 16 years in the state senate before becoming lieutenant governor and then governor. And now it’s the one he’s moved back to after living beyond its borders in nearby Charles City County for something shy of a decade — all so that he can turn it upside down, clean it up, and work toward the kind of renaissance experienced by other Southern cities like Charlotte and Atlanta.

Cleaning up Richmond, though, is a tall order. The city’s elected politicians and civil servants routinely go to jail for tax evasion, drug use, influence peddling, bribery and embezzlement. Its public schools are among the worst in the state. And its murder rate hovers near the top of national charts.

But many believe Wilder might be just the man to do what he says needs to be done. He’s got a proven record of managing crises and a keen eye for producing positive change. He steered Virginia through the early-90s recession by focusing on budget cuts and government reforms. He also was called upon by a newly inaugurated Gov. Mark Warner to head a panel to recommend ways to make state government more effective and efficient.

It’s also quite probable that Wilder has the ability — and charm — to reach out and tap some of the best and brightest technocrats and persuade them to join him in City Hall roles to take on assignments they’d otherwise never consider.

Wilder knows, however, that the challenges facing him cannot be overcome without help from others — especially state legislators who control the purse strings and governors who can be powerful allies. He knows that turning the capital city right side up is not going to be cheap. It’s going to take money. And a lot of it.

It’s no surprise that the smooth-talking, silver-haired Wilder is making nice with folks all around. He’s a Democrat who’s preaching bipartisanship like never before. He’s praised Warner for reaching out to Republicans in the 2004 legislative session to accomplish certain tax and budget initiatives, even though Wilder himself pooh-poohed those efforts. He’s cozying up to Republican Attorney General Jerry Kilgore, who may well be Virginia’s next governor. He’s joining forces, on occasion, with popular Republican U.S. Sen. George Allen to push this or that policy initiative. And, of course, he’s doing nothing but endearing himself to GOP state legislators.

In other words, he’s taking note of everyone who’ll be in a position to help him, and he’s setting them up for the Big Ask. And topping his list are the conservative Republican delegates he had eating out of his hands two weeks ago.

But are tight-fisted state lawmakers — who already tend to believe that local governments are larded to the gills — going to pony up whatever amount Wilder wants? Don’t bet on it. So what, then, is Wilder going to do when they don’t?

Wilder will work diligently during his four-year term, at the end of which he’ll be in his late 70s. It’s unlikely he’ll then run for a second term, which would take him into his early 80s. So the pressure will be on him to rack up a ton of accomplishments during his first few years so that he can retire with the luster he relishes, his rep intact and the history books with yet another remarkable chapter on him.

Rebuilding Rome or Richmond in a day is easier dreamed of than done. It’s legitimately questionable whether Wilder — or anybody, for that matter — can do in four short years what everybody is expecting, albeit unfairly, from their first-ever popularly elected mayor.

So in a few years, when it looks like Mayor Wilder is not meeting the public’s high expectations, don’t be surprised if he points a finger from his City Hall office across Broad Street to state lawmakers and lays blame at them for not forking over all the money and support he’ll have asked for since his election.

It won’t be his fault, he’ll say, if Richmond isn’t everything that other Southern cities have become. It’ll be somebody else’s. It won’t be his fault if the city’s schools are still at the bottom and its murder rate still at the top. It’ll be somebody else’s.

And just whose fault will it be?

You guessed it — Republicans’.