Malone ranger

Part 5

by Michael Crowley

As impressive as Malone's record of innovation may be, trying to pin down his core political philosophy isn't easy.

Malone's first political mentor, Ray Shamie, represented a John Birch brand of conservatism -- definitely not an image Malone wants to emulate.

"On some of the social issues where he was to the right of me," Malone says, "I said, `Well, that's where we have our differences.'"

Malone recognizes the delicate line a Republican must walk to survive in Massachusetts, and that these distinctions are important.

"People have had a chance to see my type of Republicanism and Bill Weld's type of Republicanism," he says, "and say, `Jeez, contrary to what we heard, they're not some source of great evil or something to be feared -- these people are mainstream folks.'"

His understanding of the need to be seen as a "mainstream" Republican -- as opposed to a Gingrich Republican -- probably played no small part in his 1994 turnaround on abortion rights. Where Malone once hammered at Ted Kennedy's pro-choice position in a debate, today he sounds a lot like a man who has discovered the gender gap: at first, "I listened a lot to men," Malone says. "And that's not something I'm proud to say." In time, however, Malone says he "heard from more and more women," and became convinced the issue was really about "controlling people's lives."

Partly because of this sort of shift, and partly because a state treasurer doesn't have to take stances on many political issues, Malone's driving ideology has remained opaque. There is the familiar rhetoric of small-government, low-taxes, tough-on-crime Republicanism. He is probably as fiscally conservative as Bill Weld, and more socially conservative.

But judging from Malone's record as treasurer, he has set himself up as an active conservative, in contrast to the laissez-faire libertarianism of Bill Weld. Malone is more immersed in the details of policy and governing; Weld is far better in the bully-pulpit role of articulating broad conservative principles.

Malone certainly likes the idea of being governor. But is there more to his ambition than an apolitical fascination with achievement as a virtue in itself?

Standing on a window ledge beside Malone's desk is a motivational book, Beware the Naked Man Who Offers You His Shirt. Malone describes it as a source of "uplifting stories," about "meeting challenges." It is a book about something Joe Malone holds dear: success.

An anteroom adjacent to Malone's office serves as a gallery, filled with photos of Malone and a dazzling variety of entertainment and political luminaries. Here's Joe waving a fist at a grinning Muhammad Ali. Here he is with George Bush. Jack Kemp. (Malone's falling behind his schedule, and a staffer warns him to hurry -- but he's having fun now.) There's Tony Bennett. Walter Cronkite came by for an interview. Here's his framed certificate of travel on Air Force One -- the new one, mind you, after it was refurbished. That's the 1990 victory party, with rocker Peter Wolf smooching him on the cheek. It was Wolf who swung Malone an introduction to Bruce Springsteen.

A sports junkie, Malone is also famous for befriending the stars he roots for. He's chummy with Larry Bird, and on this day, he's off to New Jersey to see his friend and former UMass coach John Calipari lead the New Jersey Nets against the Golden State Warriors.

Winning over voters, however, will require Malone to show he's looking to do more than make new friends and build up his image. He'll have to lean on his campaign skills and his record at the treasury -- both of which are impressive enough to pose a threat to any potential opponent in the governor's race.

Scott Harshbarger, the reform-minded attorney general, could play a higher good-government technocrat card than Malone, but the strait-laced AG will be hard-pressed to contend with Malone's ethnic, urban-middle-class appeal.

Joe Kennedy, being a Kennedy, would be a much tougher foe. But especially in light of a recent Globe poll that showed him running 13 points behind Bill Weld in a governor's contest, he could prove to be the Death Star of the 1998 race -- scary and seemingly all-powerful, but deeply vulnerable to a well-executed attack. Against Kennedy, Malone is sure to hammer home his executive experience.

"It's one thing for Joe Kennedy to go down to Congress and be one of 435 who vote on different issues," Malone says, "but it's another thing for him to be the chief executive officer of the state." (Malone has already taken a few practice shots. He's publicly tweaked Kennedy twice over campaign-finance issues. And a December Malone fundraising letter warned against "Kennedy's big liberal government with higher taxes, more bureaucrats and endless reams of bureaucracy.")

More important, should he win it all, does Malone have what it takes to govern the state? He'll have to do a better job of answering that question in the months ahead. Asked why he's running, Malone talks about an "efficient, effective, creative" government that relies on civic engagement but doesn't intrude on economic growth. But the particulars are still a little murky.

For instance, Malone puts education near the top of his list of priorities for the state. But when schools are crumbling and teachers are underpaid, it's hard to imagine that this is an area in which one can "do more with less." And it will be less. Not only does Malone talk about how today's tax burden is unfairly high, but there are some awfully dark clouds on the state's fiscal horizon. The Big Dig alone, according to a study released last month by the Massachusetts Taxpayers Foundation, could require an additional $600 million in new revenues -- even figuring in a toll hike. Malone's new financing proposal would fill that gap, but his preference for the quick fix over long-term obligations smells a little too strongly of politics

"There is a disaster, and I mean an enormous disaster, that's just a little bit down the road," says State Representative Jim Marzilli (D-Arlington). Recent hearings in the legislature on the state's long-term debt "have been incredibly sobering," Marzilli says.

In that light, Malone's plan to "move resources around" for innovation -- keeping Weld's fiscal hard line intact -- isn't very reassuring.

Of course, all this could be academic. Weld might decide to run after all. Or he could still step down early, as he once promised, and give Paul Cellucci a golden opportunity to win the public's confidence as acting governor for a year or so, making him a far tougher primary opponent. The lottery investigation could go nuclear.

And even if Malone has made a lot of enemies along the way, even if he has indulged his ambition, his celebrity fetish, his flair for self-promotion, he has also delivered on some of his promises to shake up Beacon Hill culture. Even if he hasn't yet shown gubernatorial vision, he has made the most of a job that his predecessor saw more as the basis for a lifestyle of cronyism and power than as a useful arm of government. To the extent that Malone has helped further a trend toward good government in Massachusetts, he deserves credit. And that could have Joe Kennedy biting his nails.

Michael Crowley can be reached at mcrowley[a]phx.com.