Berkley battling against power of her former boss

Martin Kuz

Thursday, Oct. 22, 1998 | 11:12 a.m.

Sheldon Adelson.

The name has become Shelley Berkley's cross to bear along the campaign trail. She lugs it to breakfast voter rallies, endorsement luncheons and fund-raising dinners. Wherever she goes, whatever the audience, no matter the meal, it weighs on her mind, if not her shoulders.

Which may explain the inflatable Donald Duck punching bag in Berkley's home office. When her frustration builds, she joked, "I can let it out."

No doubt thoughts of Adelson provoke a smack now and again. The Las Vegas Sands Inc. chairman has done a cannonball into the pool of Nevada politics this year, creating a splash that reaches from the Clark County Commission to the governor's mansion. And while Berkley, a Democrat, must defeat Republican Don Chairez to win Nevada's 1st Congressional District seat, it's Adelson, her former boss, whom she must exorcise.

Since before the Sept. 1 statewide primaries, when talk has turned to the District 1 race, it has turned to Adelson, who fired Berkley last year as his vice president of government relations.

A tape recording emerged in June of a conversation Berkley had with a friend last year in which she suggested that money buys political favors. On the tape, Berkley discussed ways to persuade Adelson to use his power to influence Clark County Commissioners Yvonne Atkinson Gates and Erin Kenny, ostensibly to pave the way for construction of his Venetian megaresort.

Berkley later apologized, only to add that her comments reflected how business is done in Las Vegas, detonating a second barrage of criticism.

The tape quickly became front-page fodder and handed Chairez a campaign slogan, "Fairness, not favors!" The remarks also precipitated, in Berkley's words, an "unprecedented and brutal attack" on her character.

The national and state GOP unleashed a series of TV ads that assailed Berkley's ethics, a fusillade likely induced by Adelson's contributions of $348,000 to the Nevada Republican Party, $100,000 to the Republican National Committee and another $100,000 to the National Republican Congressional Committee. He and his business associates also have donated at least $15,000 to the Chairez campaign.

So it's no surprise that just mentioning Adelson's name prompts the normally affable Berkley to stiffen, her smile taking leave of her face.

"Nobody, in (my) 36 years of living in Southern Nevada and growing up here, has ever, ever questioned my ethics or my character. Quite to the contrary," she said.

Berkley's home office can only be described as plaque-infested, the walls concealed behind awards that name her everything from Clark County Mother of the Year to Outstanding Democrat of the Year to Professional Business Woman of the Year. The 47-year-old university regent touts her civic resume and community roots, calling her campaign a "symphony" with thousands of players.

Perhaps that's why Adelson so rankles her. In Berkley's eyes, he has attempted to stop the music, turning a political race into a personal vendetta because, she said, "I was not willing to change my party so he would bankroll my campaign."

Berkley declined to give her opinion of Adelson on the record. She instead accused Chairez of selling out to her ex-boss and GOP operatives. While Chairez has sought to absolve both himself and Berkley for the attack ads sponsored by their respective parties, the Democrat places blame for the race's relentlessly negative tone on her opponent.

"(And) if he is so willing to turn the reins of his campaign over to Sheldon Adelson and the spin meisters in Washington, D.C., what does this say about how he would run his congressional office? He will be beholden to one man who has his own agenda and rabid political party activists who couldn't care less about the people of Southern Nevada," she said.

Berkley's detractors hurl similar charges of financial fealty against her -- and not merely because of her remarks about money buying political favors. They argue that even as the former Nevada assemblywoman supports campaign-finance reform, she embodies what's wrong with the system. Their evidence: Berkley has solicited more than $1 million in campaign contributions from individuals and special-interest groups across the country, making her congressional bid one of the nation's most expensive.

Berkley deflects the criticism by pointing out that she has devoted almost two years to her campaign, crisscrossing the district to meet with voters in coffee shops, nursing homes and anywhere else she can encounter them. She offers no apologies for gaining their support -- monetary, moral or both.

"I don't go to sleep at night until I've returned every last call," she said.

Her grass-roots cultivation could yield big results on Election Day. Whether voters believe Berkley or Chairez about who has done what to whom, one fact remains indisputable: Democrats outnumber Republicans by nearly 40,000 in District 1.

Then again, the Democrats' edge is no guarantee of victory. Just ask former Rep. Jim Bilbray, the Democratic incumbent ousted by Republican John Ensign in 1994 in a race decided by fewer than 1,500 votes. Mindful of that upset, Berkley has treated her candidacy as an extended job interview with the ultimate boss: voters.

"I see my job as an employee with 1.2 million employers," Berkley said, a reference to Clark County's population. "And I would work ... to make sure that the 1.2 million employers I have are satisfied with my job performance."

Inevitably, at least one "employer" will never be satisfied. But in that regard, it appears the tussle with Adelson has steeled Berkley, convincing her that, to paraphrase Democratic spin doctor James Carville, she's right, he's wrong.

Or maybe it's simply that after Nov. 3, win or lose, she can finally toss aside that cross.

"If this is the price I have to pay," Berkley said, "so be it."