Ray Flynn, congressman
Are you ready for this?
by Michael Crowley
As Boston-area residents slowly waken from their summer reveries and tune in to
the political campaigns overtaking the TV airwaves, they will have a surprise
waiting for them: chances are, on September 15, Raymond Flynn will lock up a
spot in the US House of Representatives to become the next face of Boston in
Congress.
It may perplex those people who'd concluded that Flynn's political career had
become little more than a joke, but for months every campaign poll has shown
the former mayor with a clear lead in the race to succeed the retiring
Representative Joe Kennedy (D-Brighton).
Granted, those polls show Flynn garnering only about 20 percent of the
vote. But with nine candidates splintering what remains, 20 percent is
likely to be enough to win the primary. And in such a heavily Democratic
district, the primary is all that counts.
But the political resurrection of Ray Flynn has been happening quietly, during
a summer of distractions, and many people may not even be aware of it.
"The news is not about that race," says CNN political analyst and former
district resident William Schneider. "It's about the Middle East, it's about
Monica. People just aren't paying attention."
They should be. Because before they know it, voters in this district are going
to have a congressman who opposes abortion and has lost the goodwill of the
local gay community, whose top City Hall aides were sent to jail for
corruption, and who made headlines after allegations that he has a serious
drinking problem.
They are about to get as a congressman one of the all-time great masters of
retail politics -- but also a man whose always unpredictable style has grown
even more erratic in recent years. They are about to get a congressman who just
last year seemed so unemployable that he was rejected for the job of
Northeastern University athletic director.
In short, in Ray Flynn, voters of the Massachusetts Eighth Congressional
District are about to get the wrong man. Someone who would cast votes that
would anger his constituents almost from day one. Someone likely to be a
tragicomic spectacle, the butt of Capitol Hill jokes, a man welcome only in
small, fervently supportive pockets of the district.
Most of the voters don't even know this -- something Flynn himself has helped
to ensure. Sitting on a safe lead, he has been running a stealth campaign --
avoiding the media, dodging hard questions, trying not to make news.
It is a remarkable strategy, tactically shrewd but morally suspect: Ray Flynn
is trying to win without campaigning.
Why does he get away with it? Because Flynn's base of support -- blue-collar
Irish Catholics, pro-lifers, and a few Mayor Flynn sentimentalists -- will
be with him no matter what he does. And nobody else will. By showing his face,
Flynn would only allow his opponents to attack him, and the media to scrutinize
him. So he lies low.
Exhibit A: contacted repeatedly by the Phoenix, Flynn's campaign failed
to make him available for an interview at any time in a six-day period.
Not so long ago, Ray Flynn was a towering figure on the Boston political
landscape, a parochial-school basketball star from Southie who was an early
defender of anti-busing bigotry, but who grew into a racial healer and one of
the most popular mayors in the city's history. As mayor from 1983 to 1993,
Flynn was a beloved Everyman who raced to crime scenes and fires and perfected
an image as a humanitarian crusader for the poor and the homeless.
In 1993 Flynn, 59, left City Hall for a job he coveted, as US ambassador to
the Vatican, where he could bond with Pope John Paul II (whom he has
called "the greatest man I have ever met, next to my father"), promote
international human rights -- and polish his image in preparation for future
campaigns.
Three years later, Flynn limped back to the US a tragic figure. Since he'd
left for Rome, he'd been the subject of a major ethics probe, been sanctioned
twice by the State Department, and seen his first efforts to find a new job
fail embarrassingly in the public eye.
As Flynn was mulling a run for governor last fall, things got even worse. A
devastating October 3 Boston Globe story portrayed his tenure as
ambassador as a disaster, saying he "gave short shrift to the actual work of
his embassy, shunning much paperwork, ignoring some important invitations from
his diplomatic peers, and rarely showing his face at the office for months at a
stretch."
Worse, the article finally addressed an issue political insiders had discussed
for years: Flynn's drinking habits. The Globe wrote that Flynn had been
known in Boston and Rome for late-night pub crawls that sometimes ended with
his aides helping him home. The story even included an editor's account of
seeing Flynn at around 6 p.m. on a busy North End street that August -- a time
when he was an unofficial candidate for governor -- "[apparently] intoxicated
. . . walking unsteadily and slurring his speech."
This was the low point of a sad burlesque that had begun almost the day Flynn
left Boston for Rome, a saga that makes it next to impossible to believe that
Flynn could function effectively and honorably in the corridors of the
Capitol.
In early 1994 he became the target of a three-year investigation of his
personal and campaign finances that put two of his top aides in jail. Though
accused of complicity in an embezzlement scheme, Flynn himself was cleared, but
he admitted he'd been careless about his finances. It was revealed, among other
things, that Flynn kept an envelope in his office containing unreported
campaign cash.
In Rome, Flynn was everything an ambassador -- especially an ambassador to the
pope -- is not supposed to be: a controversial political sideshow. Flynn pulled
off the extraordinary feat of drawing two reprimands from the State Department,
one for criticizing congressional Republicans and another for shoddy ethics:
Flynn used City Hall campaign funds to pay expenses he'd incurred as
ambassador, and he had an embassy aide handle his family finances. By January
1997 the Boston Globe was editorializing that Flynn had "become an
embarrassment to himself and his country" -- words that have an ominous ring
today.
Upon returning to Boston, Flynn began a hopeless, low-budget campaign for
governor -- until he spotted something better. When no heavyweights entered the
race to succeed Kennedy, Flynn finally saw a job he could land. Although he had
lived in South Boston all his life, he rented a house in East Boston and joined
the race.
Perhaps one of the most unsettling things about the thought of Ray Flynn in
Congress is how odd his campaign has been. At any given time, Flynn himself is
impossible to locate. Messages go unreturned. While some campaigns beg
reporters to quote their candidates, Flynn often speaks only through
surrogates.
Chalk some of that up to the low-budget, street-level operation Flynn has
always been proud to run. But some of it is just plain weirdness.
Consider the experience of In Newsweekly news editor Fred Kuhr, who
recently interviewed -- or, rather, tried to interview -- Flynn as part
of his paper's series of conversations with the Eighth District candidates.
According to an account written by Kuhr, Flynn first refused to be interviewed
at the offices of the gay paper, despite the fact that eight of his opponents
had already done so.
Kuhr eventually did land an interview with Flynn, who called from a car phone.
But Kuhr says that as the conversation turned to controversial issues such as
same-sex marriage, the line mysteriously went dead.
Kuhr had to prod Flynn's campaign headquarters to get a callback -- only to
have the line go dead again. By now Kuhr had the car phone number. But when he
called, an aide told him Flynn had gone into a meeting and would call back. He
never did. After several complaints to Flynn headquarters, Kuhr finally did get
a call -- from Flynn's lawyer, Harry Grill. (A published transcript of the
interview shows no sign that Kuhr did anything confrontational to anger
Flynn.)
The story is good for some comic relief. But it also underscores some real
concerns about Flynn's beliefs on some basic social issues.
That a gay publication like In Newsweekly was able to get an interview
with Flynn in the first place is a surprise. In this campaign, Flynn has
alienated large portions of a gay and lesbian community that once considered
him an ally. Not only has he expressed no support for key gay rights issues,
but he appears to be intentionally ignoring the community. At last month's
Boston Pride parade, every single candidate joined the marchers -- except
Flynn. Flynn was also the only one not to respond to a recent questionnaire
from the Lesbian and Gay Political Alliance of Massachusetts, or to attend that
group's candidates' forum.
"He has been totally unavailable to answer questions about his positions on
gay and lesbian issues," says Mark Merante, cochair of the Bay State Gay and
Lesbian Democrats.
Flynn's dodge tactics make a little more sense in light of what can be gleaned
about his positions on gay rights issues these days. Flynn has refused to
embrace a bill extending health care benefits to same-sex "domestic partners"
of Boston city employees, which is supported by the city council, Boston mayor
Tom Menino, and the state legislature. (Flynn doesn't actually come out against
the bill -- he simply cops out by saying over and over that he supports "health
care for all.") And although he styles himself a crusader for civil rights,
Flynn doesn't see anything wrong with a law that prohibits recognition of gay
and lesbian marriage.
His strained relations with the gay community are somewhat puzzling given his
strong record on gay rights as mayor, which included his support for a
statewide gay civil rights bill and his opposition to a state law barring gays
from becoming foster parents.
But times have changed, argues Kuhr. "Flynn was good on gay issues in the
'80s," he says. "What has happened is that his stance on gay issues has stayed
where it was, while the rest of the community has advanced."
Gay activists note that, far from being a fringe interest group, their
community accounts for perhaps 10 percent or more of Eighth District
voters. And especially at a time when GOP leaders liken homosexuality to
kleptomania, those activists say, it's more important than ever to have strong
allies in Congress. Hence the title of Kuhr's article: AN ANTI-ENDORSEMENT OF
RAY FLYNN.
If Flynn's position on gay rights remains somewhat muddy, there is no
question about where he stands on another defining social issue: abortion.
Guided by his devout Catholicism, Flynn is an unflinching pro-lifer,
something he tries to avoid mentioning in a district where polls shows some
60 percent of voters don't agree with him. Even Flynn's campaign Web site,
which features an entire page devoted to "issues," has -- you guessed it -- no
mention of the A-word.
His allies note that as mayor, Flynn never banned abortions at Boston City
Hospital -- the implication being that he's no radical on the issue. But could
Flynn really have pulled that off even if he'd tried?
And it's not true that Flynn didn't take a conservative line on reproductive
health issues as mayor. In fact, he routinely opposed efforts to introduce
condom distribution in schools. In 1992 he vetoed a city council ordinance
requiring the installation of condom machines in bars. Flynn's proposed
alternative to such measures? Teaching abstinence.
Even more relevant is how Flynn treated abortion the last time he was a
legislator. As a state representative in the 1970s, Flynn's signature
achievement was his cosponsorship of a law barring state health care plans from
paying for abortions.
Asked at a televised candidates' forum this month how hard he would push for
anti-abortion legislation, Flynn was characteristically vague. But there was no
mistaking how he feels.
"I feel very strongly about the issue of pro-life," Flynn said, calling his
stance "consistent with my philosophy of being a fighter and a defender for the
underdog and for the person without power, without a voice. [I'm a] person
who's going to stand up for injustice, and that's what I've done my entire
political life, and I will do that if given the opportunity to serve in the
United States Congress."
Certainly, Flynn would have plenty of opportunities to vote on abortion
issues. The National Abortion and Reproductive Rights Action League (NARAL)
says Congress has voted on abortion 96 times in the past two years. Indeed,
attaching pro-life amendments to unrelated bills has become a favorite tactic
of the House's fervent pro-life bloc. With Asian economies in crisis last
March, for instance, House Republicans delayed an emergency $18 billion
loan to the International Monetary Fund by trying to attach a ban on US funding
for international family-planning groups.
"Often these things win or lose by a very small margin," says NARAL political
director Gloria Totten.
To be sure, on most economic and policy issues Flynn is as liberal as can be:
universal health care, no private investment of Social Security, soak the rich,
feed the poor.
But some other issues that are important to liberals remain a question mark.
What does Flynn mean, for instance, when he talks about the need for "a strong,
secure America" -- does he back any Pentagon budget cuts? And how about that
new favorite of religious conservatives in Congress, a "Religious Freedom
Amendment" that would allow public funds for religious schools and permit
voluntary prayer in the classroom-- would Flynn support it? We don't know.
Oh well, guess we'll find out when he starts voting.
Once occupied by the legendary likes of John F. Kennedy and former US House
Speaker Tip O'Neill, the Massachusetts Eighth Congressional District seat is a
hallowed office. Its next occupant will be watched with keen interest by other
members of Congress and the national media.
Now take Ray Flynn, who has left nothing but farce and pathos in his wake
since 1993, and put him in that kind of spotlight. Could there be a better
prescription for disaster?
Life in Congress is intense and demanding, yet in Rome Flynn appears to have
had no capacity for hard work. Legislative success requires quiet cooperation
with allies; Flynn's political career has always been a one-man show. And
navigating the hundreds of issues swirling through Congress requires an
appreciation for policy detail. As mayor, Flynn preferred symbolism and the
common touch to the intestines of bureaucracy.
Flynn might argue that he needn't pass dozens of laws, that he could simply
serve as a defender of the disenfranchised, as a voice for economic populism.
But getting people to listen requires credibility, and Flynn has little of that
left. The podium-pounding of Joe Kennedy, though he sometimes drew chuckles,
could obviously stir his colleagues and the public. One fears Flynn could be
considered a ranting loon.
Is a Flynn victory inevitable? Barring a change in the campaign dynamic, it
is. One aide to a local officeholder likens Flynn's brawling opponents to crabs
in a bucket: when one of them starts crawling out, the others clutch its legs
and drag it back down.
But it's still quite possible that Flynn will be beaten. Stopping him, in
fact, has become the organizing principle of this campaign's final days.
Several interest groups wary of Flynn may yet line up behind a single
candidate, hoping to create a clear Flynn alternative and thereby blunt the
splinter-vote effect.
Gay activists have already begun to do this, throwing a string of key
endorsements to former talk-radio host Marjorie Clapprood, who has been backed
by Bay Windows, In Newsweekly, and the Lesbian and Gay Political
Alliance of Massachusetts.
Increasingly panicky abortion-rights groups also appear ready to join the
battle. NARAL's Totten reports that her group will decide "by the end of this
week" whether to endorse a candidate. Even if that doesn't happen, NARAL will
try to inflate the anti-Flynn vote with a strong pro-choice turnout.
"At a minimum," Totten says, "we will be active in educating voters on Flynn's
position on reproductive-choice issues."
Meanwhile, Flynn is already under mounting attack from his rivals. Somerville
mayor Michael Capuano is saying that Flynn left the Boston school system "in a
shambles." Clapprood and former state senator George Bachrach have stepped up
their pro-choice rhetoric.
The best news of all for these candidates is that nobody has really started
paying attention to the race yet. Mike Capuano simply can't compete with Cape
Cod and Saving Private Ryan. But prime-time television is already
filling up with the candidates' ads. Direct mail is flooding the district. As
soon as Labor Day has passed, voters will finally pause to take in this
campaign.
With luck, they will respond by electing someone in whom the district can feel
confident. Otherwise, on September 16 they'll be thinking about who can
replace Ray Flynn in the year 2000.
Michael Crowley can be reached at mcrowley[a]phx.com.