Wild cards

Cambridge's mayoral race is unofficially under way. Bring on the dealmaking, butt-kissing, and backbiting!

by Jason Gay

GALLUCCIO was the top vote-getter in the past two city-council elections, but can the pick of the people persuade his fellow pols to make him mayor?

Getting a grip on a Cambridge mayoral contest is like trying to tackle a piglet slathered in baby oil. Every time you think you've got a handle on who's going to win, it slides out of your grasp. Contenders keep emerging, and favorites change week to week, day to day, even hour to hour. One moment it's Candidate A (oink, squish!), the next it's going to be Candidate B (oink, squish!), the next it's Candidate C (oink, squish!). It's maddening.

But it's also fun. Cambridge's mayoral election -- in which the nine city councilors pick a leader from among their own ranks -- is a throwback to the good old days of city politics, when leaders were elected in smoke-filled rooms amid bluffs, backstabs, side deals, and last-minute intrigue. Sure, it's not pure democracy. But anyone who thinks politics have become too dull should spend some time around Cambridge City Hall in the coming weeks.

The city council doesn't officially begin the process of choosing a mayor until January 3. But the race is already well under way behind the scenes. For several weeks now, mayoral wanna-bes have been burning up the phone lines and quietly meeting with colleagues, trying to pull together the five votes needed to win.

So far, three main contenders have emerged. One is Anthony Galluccio, the energetic 32-year-old who currently serves as the city's vice-mayor. Another is Kathy Born, the ranking councilor affiliated with the Cambridge Civic Association (CCA), the city's long-time progressive political committee. Finally, there's Michael Sullivan, who at the very least possesses the mayoral pedigree -- his dad, Walter Sullivan, held the city's top job.

From there, who knows? Technically speaking, every city councilor has a shot. You have iconoclasts like Ken Reeves, who's already served two terms as mayor (from 1992 to 1996), and Tim Toomey, an East Cambridge stalwart who also serves as a state representative. You also have CCA councilor Henrietta Davis and three newcomers -- Jim Braude, Marjorie Decker, and David Maher. In reality, none of these folks seems to have a great chance of becoming mayor. But their votes will be critical and much in demand.

So let the gamesmanship begin. Or, as they say in Cambridge, the gamespersonship. 

"It's hard to call," says Ken Reeves. Adds Kathy Born: "Anything can happen."

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SULLIVAN, the son of a former Cambridge mayor, has the right pedigree. Still, it's uncertain whether he can find the five votes needed to win.

Being the mayor of Cambridge isn't like being the mayor of Boston, Somerville, or even Newton. It's a largely ceremonial job. You don't have true executive power; day-to-day administrative decisions are made by an appointed city manager. The mayor's only big task (granted, this is not insignificant) is to serve as the chair of the school committee. There's a nice little pay hike, too: about 20 grand on top of a councilor's $42,375 salary. But basically, you cut ribbons, pose for pictures, enjoy a nice office with pretty portraits -- and try not to start trouble.

That said, a lot of people want the gig. After all, even if being mayor of Cambridge doesn't make you the most powerful person in the world, you're still the city's top dog. Even if they don't publicly say so, every councilor at one time or another wonders, What would life be like if I were mayor? That's because every two years, each of them has a chance of winning the corner office. It's not the way it is in Boston, for example, where most city councilors have a better chance of getting elected to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame than to the mayor's office.

And there have been some memorable Cambridge mayoral contests. Just take the last two. In 1996, it took two months and 22 separate ballots to elect Sheila Russell, who was installed only after CCA vet Frank Duehay broke party ranks to vote for a colleague aligned with the city's more working-class, centrist "independent" bloc. Two years later, the mayor's race got ugly when Katherine Triantafillou, who thought she had the votes, was passed over at the last minute by her own CCA colleagues, who joined ranks with Galluccio to tap Duehay instead. Depending on whose version of the story you believe, Duehay's win was either a hard-nosed political play or a double-crossing. Either way, it demonstrated the unpredictability of the election process -- and the potential for hurt feelings.

"Sometimes I fear that the personality stuff comes out more than it should [in a mayoral race], so the potential for irreparable harm is greater than in a [general election]," says Michael Sullivan.

Going into the 2000 race, Galluccio, another member of the independent group, seems to have the most momentum. He's been the leading vote-getter in the past two council elections, and his blowout win this year -- Galluccio received a thousand more first-place votes than the second-place finisher, Born -- was a testament to his potent campaign machine. Galluccio can make the case, then, that he's the most popular councilor among the people. Among the councilors, however, it's a different story. Galluccio's earnest but relentless style rankles some of his colleagues, who may also be envious of his vote totals.

So what would it take for Galluccio to win? Well, assuming he's got his own vote, he needs four more. He nailed down a surprising one the other day, when Tim Toomey announced at a council meeting that he'll vote for Galluccio when the first ballot is called in early January. Toomey's promise was unexpected, given his disagreement with Galluccio over the city manager, Robert Healy (Galluccio likes him; Toomey wants him bounced). But Galluccio says Toomey's vote is real: "He's in it all the way," he says.

Galluccio will also try to get backing from Sullivan, Maher, and even Reeves, who has been known to do stranger things. And he'll ask the three CCA councilors -- Born, Braude, and Henrietta Davis -- for a little quid pro quo in return for his 1998 tie-breaking vote for Frank Duehay. Galluccio has also announced that if he's elected mayor, he won't mount a third consecutive bid for Alice Wolf's state-rep seat. That promise may not be as meaningful as it sounds (Galluccio's already lost two straight to Wolf), but it gives Wolf's progressive supporters another reason to consider voting for him.

But here's where it gets weird. Mayoral races in Cambridge are like games of chicken -- people who want the job stay in the race until they are absolutely, positively certain they don't have a chance of winning. So that means Galluccio can't count on Sullivan's or Born's vote (or for that matter, anyone from the CCA's) until Sullivan and Born have abandoned their own hopes of becoming mayor.

Observers say that explains why Reeves, after listening to Toomey promise his vote to Galluccio, stood up himself and said he'd vote for Sullivan on the first ballot. Sure, Reeves might have done that because he thinks Sullivan would be a great mayor. A more likely reason, though, is that by backing Sullivan, Reeves knows he can cool Galluccio's jets. Now Sullivan (and anyone who likes Sullivan) thinks he has a decent chance of winning, and therefore won't jump to Galluccio. Essentially, Reeves's maneuver derailed Galluccio's momentum and split the vote. Without Reeves or Sullivan, Galluccio will need some of the CCA votes, and that bloc will be tough as long as Born thinks she can win. (It should also be pointed out that Reeves's move boosts his own chances of making a successful bid if Born, Sullivan, and Galluccio are deadlocked.)

Comprende? Yes, it's confusing, but that's par for the course in a Cambridge mayoral race. Take Born's candidacy. At first glance, her chances would seem good, given that she has three CCA votes apparently locked up (though, as Katherine Triantafillou might warn, you never know). With those in the bag, she might expect the council's two non-affiliated progressives, Reeves and Marjorie Decker, to put her over the top. But here it gets weird again. Reeves may be a progressive, but he loathes feeling beholden to anyone -- that's why he quit the CCA several years ago -- and doesn't feel any obligation toward Born, especially if he thinks he himself has a crack at the mayor's job. Decker, too, is a progressive wild card. Even though she's a rookie councilor, Decker finished third overall in November's election, and she did that after saying "thanks, but no thanks" to the CCA's endorsement. As a result, relations between Decker and the CCA are somewhat chilly. It's been speculated that Decker may be more open to someone like Sullivan, who is known for his quiet, low-key style.

If Born can't win, the CCA councilors must put their votes elsewhere. Galluccio thinks he warrants consideration, and the CCA may indeed be warmer to him than it has been in the past. Sullivan's also an option, though there may be some resistance given the long-standing prickliness between the CCA and Cambridge's most powerful political family. Reeves? Maybe, but he's no CCA darling either.

There's also talk that Braude, a CCA newcomer and a maverick of sorts, might break with his colleagues in casting his vote. Braude scoffs at such speculation. "I'm a Kathy Born supporter," he says. "I would love to be seen as the pivotal vote in any of this, but I think that's giving me far more power and credit than I deserve."

For now, councilors are still confident that they can reach an early decision and avoid dragging the contest out over several weeks. "People don't want a long holdout," Galluccio insists. But if the election gets ugly again -- or worse, spills into February or beyond -- expect renewed discussion about Cambridge's mayoral-election system. Galluccio thinks the city might want to consider simply giving the mayor's job to the council's top vote-getter in the general election (not a surprising position for the council's current top vote-getter). Braude, on the other hand, wants to junk the system and let the people elect the mayor outright. And nothing that's happened so far has made him change his mind.

"The public always feels better about its government if major decision-making is done in the light of day," Braude says. "And that's what governmental elections are all about."

Jason Gay can be reached at jgay[a]phx.com.