The Revolution is Canceled

Minority voting blocs have also become less politically monolithic. In the 1970s, gays in the Castro voted as a single voice to get Harvey Milk elected. Now there are two strong, very different gay/lesbian/bisexual political organizations. Asian voters have also divided into various subgroups. Twenty years ago, Asians could be counted on for a liberal vote. Today, much of the city's Asian population is foreign born -- fiscally conservative property owners who have very little in common with their left-leaning brethren.

As the city has split into finer cultural variations, a geographically based district election system could actually make it harder for ethnic minorities to get elected. "We didn't expect so many minority candidates to be running in the same district," says David Lee, of the Chinese American Voters Education Committee. "When a few run in the same race, they run the risk of splitting the community and dissipating the ethnic vote. It's one of the unintended consequences of district elections."

The new system will also make winning election much harder for the firebrands like Ammiano, who brought district elections to the city. In a citywide election, Ammiano captured more votes than anyone running for supervisor in 1998, and made an impressive run for mayor last year, by appealing to left-wing liberals like himself. But few will even try running on a platform as iconoclastic as Ammiano's in the coming district elections. No one can afford to. The city, neighborhood by neighborhood, is simply too uneven. Candidates running for office in a district of 40,000 voters can't afford to run on a narrow set of issues.

"With district elections, you can't depend solely on your base," says Jim Ross, a political consultant with Solem & Associates. "To win, you have to stretch, to build relationships with other factions within your district. You have to be willing to compromise more than you would at the citywide level."

The disenfranchised citizens who brought us district elections will, by and large, continue to be disenfranchised. The spoils will go to the candidates who offend the fewest numbers of people.

"I think district elections are going to allow people who are left out of the process a real voice in city government," Arthur Bruzzone, then-chairman of the San Francisco Republican Party, said after his organization endorsed the electoral reform in 1996.

Now he's not so sure. "I hate to say this, but I'm not as optimistic as I was," he says. "We're probably not going to get a true liberal on the left or a true conservative on the right. We're more likely to get a bunch of plain vanillas."

On the Stump

Another party for Peskin, this time in a funky bungalow on Telegraph Hill. More wine, more cheese, another spectacular view.

Over the weekend, Peskin has pushed his campaign into full swing with a big volunteer drive. In less than two weeks, the candidate has already grown more confident. He has polished his delivery. Once again, he begins by telling the group about his morning swim in the bay, and this time he gets to the punch line a little quicker. He has streamlined his speech, and made it more lyrical. He still sounds sincere, only a little more prepared, until someone asks him what he thinks about rent control. Peskin appears flummoxed for a moment, then begins a roundabout explanation that ends with a gulp and an almost guilty-sounding "I'm for it."

Outside on the deck, as an orange full moon rises over the bay, I ask him if he's afraid that Ammiano's endorsement will hurt him. He brushes the question aside. "I've also been endorsed by Clint Reilly and Carole Migden," he says. "I enjoy Ammiano's support, but he is just one of many."

Then he, too, unsheathes that word so popular in this election. He says he considers himself an independent. His views differ considerably from Ammiano's on a number of counts, he says, from fiscal matters to the public financing of campaigns. "I fully expect that Ammiano, at times, will be pissed at me."

He waves to his wife, Nancy, talking with a few guests inside the house. The two have always worked together. He says when things get confusing on the campaign trail, he looks to Nancy as his moral compass. "I'm married to a woman who knows very well what's right and what's not right."

How does she feel about him running for office?

"Don't ask her about it," he says.

After the party, he drops off Nancy at their flat, and we go to the South End Rowing Club, where Peskin got his start as an activist, fighting for cleaner water standards in the bay. We step out onto the pier, where the club launches its boats. The moon has risen high in the sky. "This is where I jump in," he says.

He knows a negative ad campaign is coming his way, he says, and he wonders aloud about what his competitors will use against him. They might paint him as a gadfly or, worse yet, an Ammiano supporter. He recalls that a planner once accused him of acting in a threatening manner after a contentious hearing. "Maybe they'll say I assaulted the guy," he says, musing over the prospect.