By MICHAEL DOYLE
Friday, March 09, 2007
A San Joaquin River fight is aggravating the already brittle relationship between two of the region's Republican lawmakers.
The conflict between Reps. Devin Nunes of Visalia and George Radanovich of Mariposa has been quietly brewing for years. Behind the scenes, they have clashed over strategy, tactics and the taking of credit for what gets done.
Nunes is young, an aggressive up-and-comer with a brash style. Radanovich is more settled, the senior congressman by years in office. Both now appear caught in a "blood feud," one member of Congress said, speaking on condition of anonymity because of the sensitivity of the issue.
Observations, interviews and a review of documents over the past four years reveal a seemingly deteriorating relationship that both mirrors and surpasses past Valley rivalries.
"It is so common," said former San Joaquin Valley congressman Tony Coelho, who resigned in 1989 as House majority whip. "A lot of it has to do with ambition; they both want to be more powerful, and they both want to be the kingpin."
For Nunes and Radanovich, tension has previously complicated shared interests like State Route 99 and Central Valley irrigation. The San Joaquin River struggle, though, is bringing matters to a fresh boil even as both men strive for public civility.
"It's not relevant for the job," Radanovich said when asked about his personal relationship with Nunes. "I think we both focus on what's best for the Valley."
Nunes essentially agreed, insisting that his relationship with Radanovich is "fine" save for their "serious policy disagreement" over the San Joaquin River. Merced Democrat Dennis Cardoza added that Valley lawmakers "work very well together."
Ideologically, Nunes and Radanovich are in tune. Both tend to rural concerns, each earning the annual title of "Friend of the Farm Bureau." Both lean right. The American Conservative Union gave Nunes an 84 percent vote rating and Radanovich a 92 percent rating last year.
Temperamentally, they differ.
At 33, Nunes is one of the House's youngest members. He has maneuvered quickly since his 2002 election, earning a position on the powerful House Ways and Means Committee. He took a chance, and won, by allying himself with House Minority Leader John Boehner when Boehner was still out of power.
Nunes is an ambitious fundraiser for Republicans, dispensing $313,000 through his leadership political action committee during the last four years. He goes on the offensive rhetorically, calling environmental groups untrustworthy and denouncing a recent House hearing on the San Joaquin River as "absolutely ludicrous and ridiculous."
Radanovich is 51, first elected in 1994. He's a member of the House Energy and Commerce Committee. He has a leadership PAC, but it only distributed $1,000 in the last two years. He has family matters on his mind right now, as his wife, Ethie, is undergoing treatment for cancer.
"The river restoration aside, we work on a whole lot of other things together," Rep. Jim Costa, D-Fresno, said of the Valley delegation.
Most Valley lawmakers support Radanovich's $250 million bill to restore the San Joaquin River. The restoration plan would pour more water over Friant Dam and return salmon to the long-parched river, ending a lawsuit pitting environmentalists against farmers.
Nunes opposes the current bill, which he contends would drive farmers out of business. Tellingly, the two haven't discussed the river since a March 1 House hearing cast their differences in sharp relief.
"What for?" Nunes asked when questioned whether he and Radanovich had subsequently talked. "It doesn't look like he has much interest in working out these problems."
Radanovich, in turn, said "it would not be a productive dialogue" to publicly detail his disagreements with Nunes.
But there was no camouflaging their conflict during the March 1 hearing. At one point, Radanovich insisted Nunes and other skeptics had missed their chance to raise objections at an earlier meeting.
"Everybody was asked at that time ... did they have any other ideas or input that should go in the agreement," Radanovich said, "and nobody spoke."
"That's not true," Nunes retorted. "That's absolutely false."
"No," Radanovich replied.
"Mr. Costa said there were other concerns," Nunes insisted.
"No," Radanovich said.
The moment was captured on a videotape made by Nunes' staff _ itself an aggressive move, as individual lawmakers rarely videotape congressional hearings.
Such assertiveness can pay off. Nunes, for instance, succeeded where Radanovich had failed in passing a bill granting cabin owners permanent use of their vacation retreats in Mineral King Valley.
Such assertiveness, though, can also be risky.
Last year, Nunes challenged the Republican chairman of the powerful House Appropriations Committee in a dairy dispute involving one of the chairman's constituents.
Nunes won the complicated fight, regulating a large and controversial Southern California dairy. In doing so, however, he potentially ran afoul of the lawmaker who controlled the federal purse strings.
"There was concern that there could be consequences," Nunes acknowledged, adding that he never saw any fallout. "You don't have to take a political science class to know that when you take on the chairman of the Appropriations Committee, you could have problems."
Sometimes Nunes and Radanovich will talk to one another. Sometimes they will not.
Radanovich, for instance, joined Democratic Sen. Dianne Feinstein in instigating the San Joaquin River restoration negotiations in August 2005. Although most affected farmers live in Nunes' district on the San Joaquin Valley's east side, Radanovich did not alert him to the private negotiations; Nunes found out through other channels.
"It was thought best to keep it quiet in an attempt to come to an agreement," Radanovich said. "In past negotiations, you'd have every Tom, Dick and Harry at the table."
Nunes, in turn, surprised fellow California lawmakers with an ambitious Central Valley Project bill in September 2005. The measure would have rolled back environmental reforms imposed on the Redding-to-Bakersfield irrigation project a decade earlier.
Nunes did not tell Radanovich about his legislation, although Radanovich then chaired the House water and power subcommittee. Nunes couldn't attract co-sponsors for his bill, and it died without Radanovich ever holding a hearing.
State Route 99 proved a rocky road, too.
The Valley's aging highway has long concerned lawmakers. Radanovich said he discretely talked about the problem with the then-chairman of the House Transportation and Infrastructure Committee, Republican Rep. Don Young of Alaska.
Radanovich never introduced State Route 99 legislation. He said the plan was to slide assistance into a transportation bill without alerting other lawmakers.
"Don (Young) said he'd rather keep it quiet," Radanovich said.
Nunes' staff said they never saw any progress during 2003. By early 2004, Nunes introduced the first bill to designate Highway 99 a "high priority corridor" and make the road eligible for more federal funding. Four other Valley lawmakers eventually signed on, but Radanovich was not among them.
Throughout 2005, Nunes' office rallied Capitol Hill support for the State Route 99 package. The highway provisions were ultimately included in a big transportation bill approved later that year, and most of his colleagues credited Nunes.
Nunes, Costa said, was "the leader" of the highway effort.
(Contact Michael Doyle at mdoyle(at)mcclatchydc.com.)
Post new comment