Pedro Espada fights off his many critics
October 31, 2009
By Lauren Kirchner

Photo credit: Lauren Kirchner
New York State Senator Pedro Espada Jr. looked bored. At the podium on the other side of the stage, Bronx Borough President Ruben Diaz Jr. was whipping up the crowd. More than a thousand people waved yellow flags emblazoned with the logo of the Northwest Bronx Community & Clergy Coalition. Bronx community organizers and churchgoers had gathered in a gymnasium inside St. Nicholas of Tolentine Church on Fordham Road to protest the City Planning Commission’s approval of a developer’s proposal to convert the historic Kingsbridge Armory into a mall.
Diaz pilloried the “billionaire mayor” with “billionaire friends” who put profit over the neighborhood’s need for schools, letting developers build without the promise of union jobs. “It is our time,” Diaz bellowed. “History is made every single day!”
Espada sat on the side of the stage and looked down at his hands, occasionally joining the crowd in standing, a few seconds behind the applause lines. “Is the Bronx in the house?” Diaz yelled. The crowd cheered. Espada shifted in his chair.
A poet took the stage. Tall and thin and dreadlocked, Lucas de la Noche lambasted greedy bankers and corrupt landlords. Then de la Noche criticized “Democratic politicians switching to the Republican team.” All eyes shifted to Espada, who was already walking off the stage.
Outside the church, Espada, short and muscular in an olive suit, strode to a waiting car. Surrounded tightly by an entourage of staffers, he switched on the charm when approached by a group of reporters. Espada refused their questions, but invited them to come to his “beautiful new office some time” with a smile and a twinkle in his eye. He had said similar things to a reporter the week before and then canceled an interview with him a half-hour before it was to begin. That same week, other reporters who arrived at his office after having been invited there by his community outreach coordinator were told to leave by a bristly secretary.
Born in Puerto Rico and raised in the Bronx, Espada was an amateur boxer before he turned to politics, and he walks like one. He gained popularity among his constituents by founding Soundview HealthCare Network, which he has expanded since the 1970s into a group of five community health clinics in the Bronx. “You meet him, he’s very charming to the general public,” says a consultant to Democratic political campaigns in New York, who requested anonymity because of a possible conflict of interest. “But behind closed doors, he’s a negotiator. He knows how to move things.”
On June 8 this year, urged on by real estate billionaire and Republican politician Tom Golisano, Espada and his Democratic colleague from Queens, Sen. Hiram Monserrate, shocked the Senate by voting with Republicans to oust then-Majority Leader Malcolm Smith and replace him with Republican Sen. Dean Skelos. Before that day, the Democrats’ majority was the first the party had seen in over 40 years; this move suddenly put them back in the minority. It was a bizarre and colorful turn of events that had Democrats filing out of the chambers in protest, switching off the lights and microphones as they left; Republicans continued to celebrate the changeover in the darkened Senate chamber.
That night, Espada held a press conference, in which he urged people not to see the events of the day as “a power grab” or “a coup,” but rather, as “a new beginning of bipartisan government, a new beginning of reform.”

Photo credit: Hans Pennick (AP)
Theories floated about Espada’s and Monserrate’s real motivations for their votes. Some analysts blamed racial tensions between Hispanics and blacks within the Democratic party. Malcolm Smith is black, and he expressed support of Sen. Kevin Parker, who is also black, when Parker was arrested earlier in the year for assaulting a traffic agent. The political consultant who requested anonymity said that same support was not given to Monserrate, who is Hispanic, when he was arrested on charges of assaulting his girlfriend. Espada, meanwhile, was also being investigated for two separate issues: possible financial wrongdoing related to his use of Soundview money, and allegedly not living in the district he represented. The consultant explained that Espada and Monserrate decided to get back at Smith and other leading Democrats, as a way of showing how much the party needed them. Whatever Espada’s motivations, he undeniably benefited from his maneuver. By July, he was voting with Democrats again, a change of heart fueled by the promise of the Majority Leader title.
Assemblyman Michael Benjamin from the 79th District in the Bronx, summed up his impressions of Espada this way: “He has a take-no-prisoners attitude. If this were ‘Pirates of the Caribbean,’ he’d be Captain Jack.”
Another Democratic assembly member from the Bronx, who requested anonymity, said of Espada, “He doesn’t engage in diplomacy. He engages in extortion.” He added, “A lot of people hate him.”
Both assemblymen said the Senate stalemate prevented several housing reform bills from going through the Senate; this was especially frustrating to them because Espada was the chair of the Housing, Construction and Community Development committee. One of the proposed bills would have repealed a “vacancy decontrol” law that exempts apartments valued above $2,000 a month from rent control regulations. “Those bills would have been very beneficial for [Espada’s] own constituents. They would have put tenants on a level playing field,” says Benjamin.
Skelos was not available for interview, but his spokesman, Mark Hansen, said in a phone interview that Espada’s and Monserrate’s actions gave the minority party, “which right now is the Republicans but could be the Democrats again at some point,” a greater representation in the Senate. Hansen also defended the coup against Democratic criticism that it prevented important legislation from being passed, saying that Democrats were too disorganized to get any significant housing legislation through in the five months before the coup.
Before Espada walked offstage at the Armory rally, an organizer called him to the podium and asked whether he would co-sponsor a repeal of vacancy decontrol. “I would be happy to answer that question,” Espada started, hesitantly. “That question is answered by saying yes.” He then thanked the crowd for making him the first Latino majority leader, for which he got tepid applause.
Pressed for a more definite promise, Espada continued, “Because I’m 56 years old, and not 36 years old, let me treat you all like an adult, and ask you to treat me like an adult.” He then explained that simply repealing one housing law would not fix everything. “What I am telling you, as majority leader, is that it doesn’t stop and start with vacancy decontrol… I promise you the opportunity to develop affordable housing, to develop healthcare that you and your family can afford.”

Photo credit: Tim Roske (AP)
After the speeches in the gym, organizers privately expressed frustration with Espada for putting emphasis on development rather than regulation. The rally was, after all, a protest against development at the Armory. “I really can’t trust nothing he says,” said NBCC volunteer Joseph Ferdinand.
Outside, organizers with bullhorns led the crowd in a march up Davidson Avenue to the Armory. John Rozankowski, wearing a Bill Thompson t-shirt, gave a silent thumbs-down when asked about his opinion of Espada. “He made a showcase of the whole state senate,” he said, frowning and pulling on his cigarette.
Annette Phillips stood off to the side of the crowd in a Michael Bloomberg t-shirt. “He betrayed our trust,” she said of Espada. “He says he did it for the betterment of the Bronx. But I think it was for power.”
Analysts disagree over the impact that Espada will have on his constituents’ voting behavior in subsequent state elections. All 62 senators and 150 assembly members, who serve two-year terms, are up for reelection in 2010.
“What happened last summer may affect some elections in some way, but generally speaking, the memory span of the electorate is quite short,” said Costas Panagopoulos, Director of the Center for Electoral Politics and Democracy at Fordham University.
But Benjamin insisted that Espada’s constituents are still very much aware of the controversy. “You would have to live under a rock not to know what’s going on,” he said. And Benjamin said he believes that there will be a backlash in 2010. “Unfortunately, it’s going to affect all Assembly members, [but] the backlash will be felt primarily in the State Senate,” he said. “I would not want to be an incumbent state senator up for reelection next year.”
As for Espada, the future is unclear. For now, Democrats seem to have to remain loyal to him, given their slim majority. “They have to have him, and he has to have them, or he’d have no career,” says Donna Kirchheimer, a professor of political science at Lehman Collge. But the various investigations into Espada’s finances and residency make his position precarious, she said. “If he goes out now, it would be hard to come back.”

