There is a movie playing at the City of Española. It features the usual politicos and the regurgitated plot involving city officials, their greed, struggle for power, betrayal and the eventual cover-up.
It’s a cross between Julius Caesar and Watergate. There’s stuff definitely going down. At last week’s City Council meeting, the city manager was removed (“resigned”) from his position and will take on the new role of “special projects coordinator.” He will no longer supervise any employees; he will give weekly oral reports and answer only to the mayor until Sept. 30. All at his current salary: $109,000 per year.
To be fair, things happen all the time that require the departure of employees. This could be nothing out of the ordinary. But the separation agreement points to something more, and oddly enough alludes to shenanigans on both sides of the dotted lines. There is an interesting clause in the agreement that leads me to believe so: “In response to inquiry, the Employer shall state the reason for separation as voluntary resignation and shall not disclose the conditions leading to the separation.” (Emphasis added).
For trying not to sound like it’s a firing for cause, it sure sounds like a firing with cause. So why hide it and add pages of ways neither party will sue the other? It’s like a Western movie and two cowboys are staring each other down by the old saloon ready to draw their pistols. But instead of firing, they just eye each other and back away slowly. Don’t tell on me, and I won’t snitch on you. Money can buy silence.
Thanks to this travesty of a hush-money secret agreement, we may never know if there was wrongdoing on either side — though we can venture a guess. And if you ask any of the characters involved with this narrative — the mayor, the councilors who have long been privvy to this information (or perhaps not) and the city manager — I am certain they will use the same ruse to convince you that what they are doing is highly legitimate, completely regular and not only within the bounds of what is proper but totally necessary to maintain the integrity of the city.
They will shed tears of love for this city, and how could we doubt those crocodile tears of sincerity? They will exalt in unison and lean in on the drama. They will give us the “line.” Give us the lie. Tell us what we want to hear. In hushed tones or screams, in tears or in silence, they will bend their heads toward us, take a deep breath and tell us what we have been wanting to hear: I’m doing what’s best for the city.
Every good movie requires what is known as the suspension of disbelief. It refers to the audience’s willingness to accept the fictional world and events in a story even when they are not logical or do not align with the reality we know to be true. This line about “doing what’s best for the city” fits right in with the necessary suspension of disbelief. I mean, how could all of these things be happening? There has to be some explanation. Whatever that explanation is, it certainly couldn’t involve malfeasance, wrongdoing or incompetence! Of course not. Because, after all, we’re doing what’s best for the city that we love so much. That forgives so much. Besides, it’s more important to enjoy the narrative than actually create the progress our city really needs.
This movie we speak of — it’s being played in the same theater, but on different screens. Regardless of which room you’re in, the suspension of disbelief is the same but the motives are different. Councilors were given a damned if you do and damned if you don’t alternative at last week’s meeting: Agree to the settlement or vote against it. Voting for the settlement silences whatever wrongdoing the manager, or the city, or whoever, may or may not have been involved in (if there was any wrongdoing — but as we have discussed, the language in the settlement leave us more questions than answers).
The dollar amount of the hush settlement doesn’t seem terrible. Sometimes the city has to balance the cost of litigation with the cost of a quick settlement. That is understandable. In this case the question isn’t whether the cost of litigation is too high, but what does the manager know and what is the cost of the his silence? The price of silence comes at a great price to the people of Española, who may never know the answers to the questions they seek.
Voting against the settlement agreement reveals its own dilemma, mostly because some of the very councilors who now find the mayor’s actions abhorrent (just listen to the taped meeting) have also been the ones to hide, cover up, and “mijito-syndrome” their way toward our demise.
There is a line between being an enabler and being an active agent in someone’s exploratory decline into the rabbit hole of screw-ups. When these agents knew how bad things were, stood by his side and encouraged him, and did nothing about it — only to now feel as though the mayor must be stopped from singularly entering into clandestine agreements, well then boo hoo. Too little too late. We can almost hear them squealing from behind the dais: “I’m just doing what’s best for the city.”
Politicians sometimes can’t see the forest for the trees. Most politicos don’t even know what the best thing is for the city (like having the budget meeting three days before it is due to the state — more on that later). And if they do have an idea, they are jaded by their desire for power and stab each other in the back.
Beware the Ides of March, the oracle told Caesar. But he paid them no mind. For he was busy trying to do what was best for Rome. I may not know what is best for the city, either, but I certainly know what isn’t good for it. The constant groveling, jockeying for power and smallness.
The small thinking, the free hook-ups, the small park, the smallness of our attitudes, ideas and grievances. If we don’t think big, if we don’t think bold, we’ll never escape the morass of infighting and pettiness. The smallness seems too trite and silly when you’re working a million miles above.
The best thing many Española politicians can hope for is that their suspension of disbelief works on our residents ad infinitum, or at least long enough to keep them in power: I’m doing what’s best for the city. I’m doing what’s best for the city.
Javier Sanchez is a former Española mayor and is an El Rito Media investor.