THE PRICE OF ARROGANCE

When the money belongs to his wife and mother, the loss is but a family matter--unless it tilts the playing field, and public office is purchased like all the other trophies that grace the family mantelpiece.

But when the cash belongs to the people of Arizona, the loss is inexcusable, and all the habitual dalliances of the spendthrift son and faithless husband must come to an end.

So when J. Fife Symington III dips into public funds for $60,000 plus expenses to find work for an incompetent, inexperienced but attractive young woman with whom he has shared "private moments," he commits one kind of burglary.

He commits a different kind of sin when he permits her to ruin a golden opportunity to have a senior trade representative of the Japanese External Trade Organization placed at the Capitol--an exorbitant gaffe that has deeply offended Japanese government officials.

He commits still another trespass when he flies her to Japan to apologize in person for her diplomatic insults that have cost Arizona businesses precious ties to Japanese markets and investors.

But when he then positions Annette Alvarez to botch "the biggest and most important international transaction in the history of Arizona since statehood," his wayward and reckless conduct must stop.

The quotation belongs to Chuck Prichard, the owner of La Corona Foods in Glendale. His is a healthy, multimillion-dollar business, the only manufacturer of yogurt in the state.

He's referring to the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) between the United States, Mexico and Canada. Congress has put NAFTA on the "fast track," and the Bush administration is working to have the agreement signed by the end of this year. A compelling story in the current issue of The National Interest predicts the free-trade agreement will go down as "the most important foreign economic policy achievement of President Bush's first term in office."

Four months ago, Prichard began writing Governor Symington to alert the new administration to the urgency of developing an Arizona strategy for free trade with Mexico. California Governor Pete Wilson, for example, has won his state tremendous favors from the Bush administration by taking an acute interest in the coming era of U.S.-Mexico free trade.

Like other business people in this state, Prichard knows the issue firsthand: Almost 50 percent of La Corona's business is done in Mexico. But Prichard's experiences with the Symington administration--especially with the governor's international relations aide Annette Alvarez--have left him cold.

"The more I didn't get answers, the more I wrote," says Prichard, whose candor and concern for public policy make him something of an endangered species these days.

Though Symington didn't see fit to meet with Prichard, the governor in late August finally "shunted [him] off" to Alvarez; the well-paid aide telephoned the businessman and apologized for the administration's failure to respond promptly. When Alvarez asked Prichard to explain the significance of his letters, Prichard recited his concerns about the importance of NAFTA and Arizona's need to compete effectively with California, New Mexico and Texas in the upcoming revolution in Mexican trade.

"But it was like talking to a wall," Prichard says of his first telephone conversation with Alvarez.

She suggested that they sit down together to discuss the issues further. On August 29, Prichard and his general manager met with Alvarez at the Department of Commerce, but she seemed uniquely "naive" about the business world. In view of her opacity, Prichard continued to work toward a meeting with the governor and other members of Arizona's international business community.

Time was of the essence. After all, Texas and California had established official trade offices in Mexico years ago (in 1971 and 1989, respectively), and New Mexico had one looming on the horizon. On the other hand, Arizona was trailing the pack, and Alvarez's lack of appreciation for the legislative and legal processes had caused a critical delay in the opening of an Arizona outpost in the burgeoning Mexican economy.

Though Mexico is Arizona's next-door neighbor, many Arizonans are unaware of the strides taken by its new leader, President Carlos Salinas de Gortari, to introduce major economic reforms. Elected in 1988, Salinas unloaded state-owned industries to the private sector; backed off a corrupt labor boss who effectively ran the country's oil industry; and put the brakes on government spending and reduced trade tariffs. Before Salinas took office, as the current issue of the New York Review of Books spells out, the Mexican inflation rate was 200 percent per year; today it is about 15: "Eight years ago the Mexican economy was one of the weakest in Latin America; now it is probably the strongest."

Prichard wanted the governor to know the importance to Arizona of having a "strategy" for capitalizing on the new trade agreement. In the next ten years, Prichard says, "Sonora will become a very, very valuable part of the free-trade act," as the Mexican state begins to replace California as America's supplier of fruits and vegetables. Prichard wanted to get the governor thinking about, among other things, making Nogales a port of entry. "There's no reason why Calexico should become one and not Nogales," says Prichard. "And there's no reason why commerce should come through El Paso and not Yuma."

Given the importance of creating a dialogue between Arizona business people and the governor on this issue, Prichard continued to seek a session with Symington personally, "but Alvarez was always being shoved in our face." First she tentatively scheduled a meeting with Prichard's group on September 6 at her office. Alvarez, however, never responded to Prichard's calls "to see if the meeting was still on." Then her secretary telephoned to reschedule the meeting for September 10 at 2:30 p.m.

Prichard was coordinating with his group of "six outsiders" and hoping the governor would join them at the meeting. The so-called outsiders included top officials from Carnation Dairies, the United Dairymen's association and La Corona Foods, as well as government officials from the state farm bureau and agriculture department. That morning, Alvarez again rescheduled the group's meeting for still later in the afternoon.

Nevertheless, Prichard got his forces together for the session, only to learn that Symington would not be there.

Alvarez began the meeting.
"What do you want to talk about?" she asked.
Prichard answered, articulating again the interests of enhanced economic bonds between Arizona and Mexico, especially Sonora. As he offered suggestions on everything from tax incentives to road-building projects, Alvarez "just sat there. She had nothing to say."

Except in closing. "Thank you very much," the polite but dense gubernatorial aide concluded. The meeting had lasted 15 minutes.

And the insults weren't over. Arizona business people were left out of the loop again on October 18, when Sonora Governor-elect Fabio Beltrones came to Phoenix for the day. Although Alvarez had boasted about the reception she'd planned for Beltrones, Prichard and his group got no invitations to the event.

"I'd offered to help fund the reception. I thought it might be useful to establish some direct dialogue between Arizonans actually doing business in Sonora and the new governor." But Prichard was dismayed to learn "that not one businessman who was actually doing business in Sonora was at the reception."

There is a sad irony to the governor's handling of international trade.
"He says he wants business input. But unless you're one of Symington's friends, he's not listening," Prichard observes.

"Annoyed" and "upset" are words Prichard uses to describe the mood of Arizona's business-community members because of their treatment by Symington and his amateur international aide. Under Governor Symington, Prichard laments, "the state of Arizona has absolutely no plan of attack at all."

There are, of course, other sad ironies. Last week's cover story in New Times revealed a major one.

Symington won a majority of votes into office on his desirability as the "family" candidate. It was an image carefully cultivated by his campaign's media team.

It was a risky strategy, too. After all, Symington and certain members of the media had received the Alvarez love letter before last year's election. But back then, she was merely the candidate's press secretary, paid by campaign funds, not the taxpayers.

Now the governor's handlers are cultivating another image. When finally confronted with a letter in Alvarez's unmistakable handwriting that detailed "this heightened intimacy" between the governor and his top aide, Symington told New Times that Alvarez was a "close friend" but "categorically den[ied] the rumors."

Symington's words have to them that last-refuge-of-a-scoundrel ring. He says he will not "dignify" anything New Times writes with a response. Never mind that sources in and outside Symington's administration verify the authenticity of the Alvarez love letter.

Is the public ready for the truth about a leader, even a candidate for high public office, when the charges involve the special patronage of a mistress?

One would hope.
But does it matter whether Symington shared a bed with Alvarez? Should anyone care--apart from the participants themselves, and the families caught in the crossfire--whether the intimacy was consummated?

Not really.
But people must ask related questions.
Like, if Annette Alvarez lacked both the education and expertise to assume responsibility for the state's international trade, if Arizona's fate in a competitive business world now rested in her incompetent hands, "How could it be possible? Why would Symington appoint such a person?"

Why would Symington rush to hire someone--in the words of one seasoned observer--"with no background in diplomacy, banking, investment and long-term border issues"?

Once we became convinced of the letter's authenticity, once the rumors had been confirmed by ample, credible sources, including sources on the governor's staff, we had no choice but to include the information in our story last week.

Not because the relationship between Annette and Fife was in and of itself newsworthy.

But because the information would address one logical question: How did she get the job?

And the Alvarez letter answers that inquiry in an irrefutable way.
Now other important questions live on.
Because Mexico's President Salinas expanded his country's oil production to support President Bush when Bush called for an embargo against Iraq last year, it is almost certain Bush will support Salinas in his request for prompt approval of NAFTA.

In short order, the North American agreement will become law. It will create a free-trade zone almost equal to that of the European Community and with nearly twice the population of Japan's "yen bloc" in east Asia.

Arizona is losing its chance to capitalize on an historic opportunity to boost trade with Mexico because the governor picked Annette Alvarez to lead Arizona through the complex landscape of international trade.

Alvarez's knowledge of Spanish is not qualification enough.
Symington owes the state more.

"It was like talking to a wall," Prichard says of his conversation with Alvarez.

Prichard wanted the governor to know the importance to Arizona of having a "strategy" for capitalizing on the new trade agreement.

There is a sad irony to the governor's handling of international trade.

Does it matter whether Symington shared a bed with Alvarez?