Columnist Jon Ralston: They’ve gone and deified Wal-Mart

Sunday, May 14, 2000 | 10:58 a.m.

Jon Ralston, who publishes the Ralston Report, writes a column for the Sun on Sundays and Wednesdays. Ralston can be reached at 870-7997 or by e-mail at ralston@vegas.com.

Forgive them, voters, for they knew not what they did.

On Oct. 6, 1999, the Clark County Commission voted to crucify Wal-Mart on the altar of organized labor, using the zoning code as a hammer to nail the retail behemoth before it could build any supercenters in the valley. As the three commissioners who erected the cross washed their hands of their culpability, public outrage percolated, and a new religion was born: Big box worshipers suddenly flocked to talk-radio to express their fury at being denied the opportunity to shop at stores that had plenty of square footage, lots of cheap stuff and, yes, even food.

Of all the dubious accomplishments the current incarnation of the commission has achieved, this could be the nadir: transforming Wal-Mart into something holy, something to be revered.

So the ordinance was written, and so it was done. And now, seven months later, the resurrection is at hand. This Wednesday commissioners are poised to repeal the ordinance they once passed with so much zeal and so much genuflecting to the unions, specifically the Culinary, acting on behalf of the food and commercial workers union whose members' jobs are threatened by the big box concept.

No one -- not the commissioners, not the unions, not even Wal-Mart supporters -- could have anticipated the backlash. Republican activists, and then Wal-Mart itself, began collecting signatures for a petition drive. A lawsuit was filed to enjoin the county and have the ordinance declared unconstitutional. Wal-Mart suddenly was increasing its political activity, contributing to campaigns and hiring a veteran legislative operative, Amy Hill, to run their new government affairs shop.

The commissioners who voted for the ordinance -- ringleader Erin Kenny, Yvonne Atkinson Gates and Myrna Williams -- were under siege from the business community. On the other side, Democratic Commissioner Mary Kincaid, who had committed political heresy by opposing the ordinance, faced the wrath of labor -- now likely manifested in a primary campaign by North Las Vegas City Councilwoman Stephanie Smith. (Dario Herrera and Bruce Woodbury abstained. Lance Malone also voted against the ordinance, but the unions don't have nearly as much clout in his district as Kincaid's.)

Ironically, the commissioner who has in recent months tried to bring Wal-Mart and the unions together, and has led the repeal effort, is Kenny. She has tried to balance many competing forces. She has tried to craft an alternative ordinance to please the unions but also to appease Wal-Mart by changing the language to make it more generally applicable and less onerous.

She also has moved at the behest of Democratic Party leaders, who fear that a repeal on the ballot, which qualified last week, would be a magnet for the valley's conservative bloc of voters. And she has tried to build a coalition from the myriad egos and personalities on the board, where comity is as rare as leadership.

The votes surely are there to repeal the original ordinance this week. But passing something in its stead is more problematic. Gates, Williams and Kincaid would rather be crucified themselves than bow at Kenny's temple. And if Herrera takes a pass, Kenny's plan will die. (Maybe Herrera, who would love to be chairman, can get a commitment from Kenny to support him for the commission throne in exchange for his vote on her ordinance. Just a thought.)

In the end, none of the commissioners who voted for the original ordinance seem likely to pay much of a political price. Gates will easily be re-elected -- having your prospective opponent (John Rhodes) get indicted is the kind of serendipity politicians can only dream of. And Williams and Kenny are not up until 2002, when this will be long forgotten. Only Kincaid, who is losing campaign consultants and union supporters by the day, may suffer from this unseemly episode.

Yes, the one commissioner who cast a principled and politically unsafe vote may be the one who ends up on the cross herself. In the cult known as politics, the punishment rarely fits the crime, and the gods are not known for their forgiving nature.