Rudy awakening: as president, Giuliani would grab even more executive power than Bush and Cheney. his mayoralty tells the story

Washington Monthly, Nov, 2007 by Rachel Morris

Giuliani's determination to whip the municipal government into shape wasn't all bad. For years, New York City's prosperity had been held hostage to its feckless bureaucracy, and one of the reasons Giuliani was able to turn the city around was that he brought the government under his control. As with so much else, however, Giuliani didn't know when to stop. Most commissioners had to submit their speeches for vetting by Giuliani's aides. Giuliani boasted that he personally approved precinct-level detective promotions. A senior aide told James Traub of the Times that when Giuliani's communications director interviewed applicants, even for low-level jobs, she inquired whether they would "take a bullet for the mayor."

Before long, his tough management style deteriorated into futile callousness. "People in his administration were terrified of him," said former Mayor Ed Koch. Giuliani drove out even his best officials for being insufficiently deferential. Police Commissioner Bratton, the architect of New York's crime-fighting successes, was ousted in 1996. Rudy Crew, a well-regarded education chancellor, surrendered in 1999, stalling much-needed reform of New York's schools. Ultimately, the entire city government became an extension of Giuliani's outsize personality. This allowed him to wield his authority to maximum effect, but the lack of independent voices also made him particularly susceptible to overreach.

TESTING THE LIMITS OF THE LAW

Mayors of New York City have long enjoyed an unusual degree of power for an American government executive. They're able, for instance, to appoint judges and commissioners without any kind of legislative approval. In 1989, a revision of the city's charter (effectively the local constitution) granted even more power to the mayor, including greater influence over land use and contracts. Today, New York's mayor arguably has more power over the city than the governor does over New York State--or, for that matter, than the president does over the nation. Mitchell Moss, an esteemed historian of New York municipal politics, has said that the mayor "really is the king of New York."

But for Giuliani, the kingship wasn't enough. The city council was a persistent annoyance to him, and he began skirmishing with it almost immediately. He also resented the intrusion of the two other major checks on his power: the Independent Budget Office, an independent financial watchdog created in 1989 as a counterweight to the mayor's enhanced authority; and the Office of the Public Advocate, which acts as an ombudsman for the city's residents. Giuliani tried to reduce the public advocate's budget, and refused to fund the IBO until 1996.

Not long after his second term began, Giuliani sought to make more lasting changes. This time, he went straight for the city charter. Over the past forty years, only two commissions had been held to revise New York's governing document. During his time in office, Giuliani convened three. What's more, although the previous panels had been blue-chip affairs, Giuliani's commissions weren't very prestigious. The first, launched in 1998, was chaired by Giuliani's longtime friend Peter Powers. It was dominated by members who were undoubtedly experienced in government, but who happened to have acquired that experience by working for Rudy Giuliani. It was advised by attorneys from Giuliani's Law Department and usually met in secret. One of the first things it considered was a proposal dear to the mayor: abolishing the Independent Budget Office and the Office of the Public Advocate.