TRENTON — Monday may have marked the deadline for legislative candidates to file their paperwork to run, but in New Jersey, most winners have already been picked — mostly by other politicians. Unlike other states where candidates in the same party file papers to run and then face off in a primary election, the showdown in New Jersey happens...
TRENTON — Monday may have marked the deadline for legislative candidates to file their paperwork to run, but in New Jersey, most winners have already been picked — mostly by other politicians.
Unlike other states where candidates in the same party file papers to run and then face off in a primary election, the showdown in New Jersey happens on local turf, and primary elections are more formality than competition.
And with the vast majority of legislative districts are gerrymandered to favor one party or the other, the primary winner most often takes it all.
Consider this: All 120 seats in the Legislature are up for grabs in November, which will feature 240 Republicans and Democrats on the ballots. Of the 240 slots, only 31 races are being contested in a primary election, or about 13 percent.
The real elections happened during a mad scramble last week following the release of a newly drawn election map April 3, as county party officials decided which politicos to place on the county line, and in effect, in the Statehouse.
"Being on the county line is the only realistic path to victory," said Hawthorne Democrat Jeff Gardner, whose political dreams were dashed over the weekend when he failed to win the party support of the Bergen County Democratic Committee.
Most county parties elect local community members, but the real decision makers tend to be the politicians — local mayors and freeholders — who can sway the vote.
Winning the county party endorsement is so important because it's actually noted on the ballot alongside a candidate's name, and endorsed candidates appear in the same column, or line.
The county party endorsement takes advantage of the fact that few people come out to vote in primary election, explains Monmouth University political scientist Patrick Murray.
The system has given rise to larger party bosses, notably George Norcross in the south and Steve Adabato Sr. and Joe DiVincenzo Jr. in the north, who often help hand-pick the candidates that will run.
"In other counties you put a name forward and try to fight it out," Murray said. "In Camden County, you wait to get the call."
This year's ballot has been even more complicated by the redrawing of districts, which happens every 10 years following the release of census figures. The process is done to account for population shifts but is intensely political.
In Gardner's case, he was pushed out of contention when his hometown was moved from a primarily Passaic County district to a primarily Bergen County one, where he had fewer allies.
In the territorial game of New Jersey politics, the Bergen County party wanted one of their own on the line, replacing Gardner, who is openly gay, with Maywood Mayor Tim Eustace, who is also openly gay — a move that also kept gay rights activists happy.
Steven Goldstein, who leads the gay rights group Garden State Equality, called the race boiling down to two members of the LGBT community "a first in New Jersey political history." Both Gardner and Eustace belong to the organization.
As Gardner and a litany of others learned, a lot can change in a week. Several potential candidates floating test balloons had them quickly shot down last week.
In Passaic County, Bernadette McPherson was introduced as an Assembly candidate at the beginning of the week by county party officials but by the end of the week was endorsing Ridgefield prosecutor Marlene Caride, a Cuban-American prosecutor from Ridgefield, as the candidate.
While McPherson initially won the backing of Passaic County officials, the lack of support in Bergen County, which makes up more of the district, meant her run for the Assembly was short-lived.
Party insiders said they were looking to field more ethnically diverse candidates, as Democrats had promised minority groups they would during the redistricting process.
"The issue was that she saw the need for Latina candidates in that district, and it's because of Bernadette that a Latina candidate is on the line," said the Bergen County Democratic chairman, Louis Stellato.
Fielding more minority candidates was a central issue in redrawing an election map as Democrats and Republicans promised minority groups better representation if they backed their election map.
After flirting with Republicans, a minority coalition eventually sided with the Democratic map.
In a letter to both state party chairs last week, the coalition reminded them of that and expressed concern about the weight of the county party endorsement has on candidates, saying it can effectively lock out minority candidates even in districts where minorities make up a majority of voters.
Jerry Harris, a spokesman for the minority group, said they were still looking over the nominating petitions filed Monday to evaluate whether the number of minority candidates was a fair representation of the state's population. He also said the group was looking closely at whether the slating process could amount to a violation of the federal Voting Rights Act because of the influence the endorsements carry.
"It's very difficult for a newcomer to break into a seat in the primary," Harris said. "In many cases, the local organizations have overlooked candidates of color in favor of considerations like whether they have served before, how much money they can raise and where in the district they live."
However, bucking the county line is not always a death sentence for candidates.
Robert Villare, a surgeon from Woodbury, won party backing this year after he was shooed off by Republicans in 2009 for an Assembly spot on the county line. He ran anyway. To even his surprise, he beat out the line GOP candidates and came close to catching Democrat Celeste Riley in the general election.
Though he ultimately lost, it got him noticed. This year, Republicans in the 3rd District didn't hesitate to put him up.
"I guess both parties meet and meet and meet for months ahead a time. I got in late and I'm not a party kind of guy," Villare said of his 2009 bid. "Gradually they came to know me and got to like me. It's refreshing — one year it's, 'Please don't run,' and now it's, 'Are you with us?'"