John Burton was the unique sort of political leader we need much more of in today’s hate-spewing politics. First, he dedicated his life to fighting for a cause that earned him only personal satisfaction and absolutely no political gain: the powerless poor, particularly the aged, blind and disabled. These aren’t folks with any money to donate to political coffers. They’re not members of unions harboring large piles of campaign cash. They don’t volunteer to walk precincts before elections. Many can barely walk. They’re not organized. More likely they live lonely lives. And they never heard of John Burton.
Burton — and only Burton — had these peoples’ backs in Sacramento’s halls of power for many years. And no one has taken his place. Second, this bleeding-heart San Francisco liberal instinctively liked and befriended many political opposites with whom he developed working relationships to achieve his and their goals. He’d loudly denounce their conservative positions on issues but not them personally — in contrast to today’s ugly, click-driven, opportunistic American politics.
Right-wingers? “I never held that against anybody,” Burton writes in his recently released autobiography, “I Yell Because I Care: The Passion and Politics of John Burton, California’s Liberal Warrior.” “Like, you never know when you might need a right-winger for something. And when you do, it’s best to give them something in return. And it’s even better when what they want is something you don’t really care about. Sometimes, that’s the way s— gets done in politics.”
When it gets done, which is almost never these days in Congress. Things might get done in Sacramento — for good or bad — because Democrats wield ironclad control over all branches of government, unlike when Burton was a legislator during decades that required bipartisan compromise. Burton was infamously foul-mouthed and often rude. But colleagues, staffers, lobbyists and reporters rolled their eyes and adjusted. OK, so you couldn’t always quote his exact words in a family newspaper or on TV.
At heart, Burton was a softie and extrovert who genuinely liked people of all political persuasions. And they liked him because he was a straight shooter whose word was golden — the No. 1 asset for most anyone in politics. Softie? Longtime Burton spokesman David Seback recalls this incident when the lawmaker was Senate president pro tem, the No. 2 most powerful office in the Capitol:
“There was a guy who was pretty severely disabled who would go with difficulty using crutches from office to office delivering copies of these multi-page conspiracy theory laden packets he put together to all 120 legislators. There were some typewritten parts, some handwritten, some xeroxed photos.
“One day John stopped him and said, ‘From now on, you deliver one copy to my office.’ After that, all the legislators got a copy of these packets stamped, ‘Compliments of John Burton.’” Most Capitol denizens — if they noticed him at all — probably dismissed this packet-carting conspiracy theorist on crutches as a sad kook. But he’s the type who was Burton’s purpose in life to help. Burton, 92, died Sept. 7 at a hospice facility in San Francisco. The Times ran an excellent Page 1 obituary on Burton written by former Times staffer Dan Morain. It covered the bases well: A pro-labor lawmaker instrumental in shaping California politics over six decades on topics as varied as welfare, foster care, mental health, auto emissions and guns.
Burton was integral to a powerful political organization founded by his older brother, US Rep. Phil Burton, that included two of John’s closest pals: future San Francisco mayors George Moscone and Willie Brown.