City Council's toadyism a disservice to the public
By Bob Dye
A Kailua-based historian and writer
We need to revive some old words and add them to today's political vocabulary. I mean, a word less neutral than politician is needed to distinguish between honest officials and those who cheat.
"A petty, feeble, or contemptible politician."
The eminent wordsmith Dr. Samuel Johnson surely foresaw the misdeeds of these rascals. His definition of politicaster is less kind and more to the point: "A petty, ignorant pretender to politicks."
Dodder is a useful metaphor to describe political hacks. The Hawaiian name for this parasitic plant is kauna'oa. You see it growing on roadsides and in abandoned fields. Dodders suck out the juices of other plants. A political species thrives at the public trough. They are not endangered, unfortunately, being found at the lowest elevations of the political 'ahupua'a.
Nondescript but seeking sinecure, they make flabby the underbelly of government.
A toady is an adapted form of dodder. Used as a noun: "A servile dependent or parasite." As a verb: "To flatter or attend to with servility from interested motives."
The wonderfully graphic word derives from toadeater. At country fairs, hawkers of concoctions to prevent poisoning had an assistant devour a toad. When the flunky didn't drop dead on the spot, the charlatan passed through the crowd selling the elixir to the unsuspecting. Seeing, or so they thought, was believing. Caveat emptor!
The distinction between such a mountebank and a politicaster was but slight in many minds. So toady came to be a derisive appellation for, say, a servile councilman under the sway of a mayor.
Council Chairman Jon Yoshimura, a Democrat, recently wrote that it's balderdash to suggest the council "blindly" supports the mayor's initiatives
"In the last two years, with a new council organization and an administration seeking collaboration rather than confrontation much has been accomplished.
"Call it what you will, but the cooperation at City Hall is good for Honolulu's people."
Councilman John Henry Felix, a Republican, is not convinced.
Over bowls of potato soup at the Pacific Club, we discussed the sad public spectacle of Rene Mansho being stripped incrementally of her council power. I wondered if toadyism was at the heart of that long process.
A long-timer at City Hall, as councilman and head of most every major board or commission, Felix laments the passing of the dynamic tension between mayor and council that once prevailed. And he cringes at public accusations of toadyism leveled at some of his colleagues.
He jotted down his thoughts and sent them to me before leaving on a business trip to Europe:
"When one branch of government dominates or makes itself subservient to another, the entire democratic process is jeopardized.
"This is not to suggest that the branches should not cooperate civilly. But of utmost importance is the sacred charge of each branch: protecting citizens from the excesses of government by examining, questioning, and when necessary challenging the actions and decisions made by the other branches.
"The desire to 'stay on the good side' of an executive who controls not only the budgetary purse strings but a potent political machine can be dangerously seductive ... and ultimately destructive of good government," he wrote.
The Honolulu City Council was once a noble body, and its members highly regarded by citizens. I remember well that halcyon year when Walter Heen was chairman. No toadies on that council. Nor did then Mayor Frank Fasi want them to be.
There may have been no love lost between the two branches of our municipal government then, but there was great respect for the process.
"That's not apparent today," Fasi says sadly.
Councilman Duke Bainum is embarrassed that two of his colleagues have been charged with unethical behavior. If elected mayor in 2002, he says he'll work to give the city Ethics Commission "some teeth" (it now has no enforcement power), and he'll seek to grant the council greater powers to discipline its own members. It is a strong plank on which to stand.
In fairness to Rene, she has yet to be charged with any crime. Her only hard time has been in Ethics 101, a kind of special-ed class to teach the councilwoman right from wrong. Other council members and staff voluntarily enrolled in the course, at the suggestion of Chairman Yoshimura.
These have been rough years for citizens hoping for integrity in each and every elected and appointed official. Previously at the city, before the current City Council cases, a department head and a deputy managing director went to federal prison for campaign spending violations. And a low-level official, Michael Kahapea, was found guilty of stealing an historic amount of public money.
Perhaps greater tension between mayor and council could have prevented at least the latter crime.
But Rene's dipping into campaign coffers, to support a political lifestyle, may be an unfortunate result of pinch-penny taxpayers insisting salaries be kept low.
To convert contributions to private use is ethically despicable but all too humanly understandable. Bob Watada, the by-the-book and tough-as-nails head of the Campaign Spending Commission, sees an accelerating problem for politicians trying to meet public expectations on a meager salary. Although it's his job to catch cheaters, he's a compassionate man as well. He urges a public conversation about challenging the compensation system, while constraining costs.
He's right. Politicasters, dodders and toadies are made, not born.