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              Massachusetts Defeats Rent Control
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This article appeared in the March/April issue of Shelterforce
magazine, the journal of affordable housing strategies. A one
year (six issue) subscription is $18 and $30 for organizations.
For a sample issue call 201-678-3110 or e-mail to hs@intac.com.


               MASSACHUSETTS DEFEATS RENT CONTROL
                       by Patricia Cantor

25 years ago tenants organized, formed coalitions, took to the
streets, and won rent control in Massachusetts.

But, after two and half decades of constant battles against
powerful and wealthy opponents, the tenants lost the war to save
rent control.


HOW DID IT HAPPEN?

In late December 1971, tenants in Cambridge, Massachusetts,
demonstrated in freezing sleet on City Hall steps to demand rent
control. They succeeded, and rent control became the centerpiece
of the city's affordable housing policy.

In November 1994, Cambridge landlords accomplished what hundreds
of lawsuits, years of lobbying, and nearly twenty-five years of
lost bi-annual local elections had failed to accomplish-they
abolished rent control. Under the guise of democracy-the state-
wide ballot process-they achieved the undemocratic result of
dumping the policy long endorsed by the majority of those
effected by it.

Beginnings in Organizing

Cambridge, like many other cities in the 1960s, saw rising rents
displace long-term lower income residents. Pressures from
university expansion, urban "renewal" land clearance, and
manufacturing job loss eroded Cambridge's traditional industrial
base and generated a severe housing crisis. Radicals, both those
from the student movement and those from the "grassroots," began
organizing. They identified rent control as a way to increase
stability and counter the "master plan" to transform working
class Cambridge into "the brain center of the military-industrial
complex." In 1969, a referendum campaign began for a local rent
control law, and although the effort failed because city
officials ruled it unlawful, rent control was on the agenda.

By 1970, statewide tenant power passed a law authorizing cities
and towns with populations over 50,000 to enact rent control.
Boston, Lynn, Somerville, and Brookline, in addition to
Cambridge, quickly adopted it. Lynn repealed it in 1974, as did
Somerville in 1979. Boston approved vacancy decontrol in 1974,
and Brookline decontrolled most of its units in 1991. Only
Cambridge retained a strong system.

Throughout the 1970s, Cambridge Tenants Organizing Committee
(CTOC), which grew out of the 1969 referendum campaign and
several successful eviction blockings, ensured that rent control
worked in Cambridge. For nearly a decade, CTOC was a model class-
conscious local organization. Militantly self-reliant, CTOC
raised revenue from members' contributions, from tenants who
participated in its activities, and from other independent
sources. The organization published a tabloid-style monthly
newspaper and numerous informational guides. A tenant union
committee organized tenants. A legal committee provided legal
support. CTOC led rallies to protest city-wide rent increases
approved by the rent board and held at least one semi-successful,
city-wide rent strike.

In 1975 the state-wide enabling law was due to expire. Responding
to heavy real estate industry lobbying, the legislature refused
to extend it. But CTOC led the Cambridge fight to enact a home-
rule version that was passed by the City Council and approved by
the State Legislature and then-Governor Michael Dukakis.

By the late 1970s, however, CTOC began to unravel. Internal
issues, as well as the changing political climate, contributed to
the organization's formal dissolution in 1978. When CTOC
disbanded, it left a strong rent control system and history of
tenant advocacy and activism.

Loss of Units Brings Stricter Regulation

During the 1970s, landlords sought ways to remove units from
control. Since owner-occupied condominium units were not rent-
controlled, widespread condo conversion began in older buildings.
Masterminded by Cambridge anti-rent control attorney William
Walsh, this strategy resulted in the removal of thousands of
units from the rental market.

In response, tenants demanded that removals be restricted and
elected David Sullivan, an activist tenant lawyer, to the City
Council in 1978. By the summer of 1979, Sullivan and other pro-
rent control councilors passed the Removal Permit Ordinance,
which strictly regulated removals of controlled units by
requiring proof that a removal would not aggravate the housing
shortage and would benefit "the persons sought to be protected"
by the rent control statute.

By the early 1980s, although the mass movement had faded to a few
dedicated individuals called the Cambridge Tenants Union (CTU),
the institutional structure that years of tenant activity had
produced protected thousands of people. Every two years,
Cambridge voters (80% tenants) returned a five-to-four pro-rent
control majority to the nine-member city council. At each
election, rent control was the hottest issue, and reasonable
effort and positive inertia kept it intact.

Landlord Backlash

Although the remaining activists continued to press for pro-
tenant positions, real organizing ceased. Into this vacuum
stepped the Small Property Owners Association (SPOA). Responding
to what they claimed was the rent board's pro-tenant bias and
vowing to do away with Cambridge's "inherently onerous and
unfair" rent control laws, a group of property owners, mostly
owner-occupants of small buildings, formed SPOA in 1987.

SPOA began picketing city council meetings, regularly speaking up
at rent board hearings, and organizing other property owners.
SPOA representatives visited radio talk shows and interested
reporters and columnists in publicizing their personal tales of
the "horrors" of Cambridge rent control. They displayed signs at
university graduations, wrote letters to local and national
newspapers, and were able to portray themselves as a grassroots
organization fighting for justice and the American way against
the "People's Republic of Cambridge."

SPOA also presented a more diverse and superficially appealing
picture than the corresponding tenant activists. They included
young and old, black and white, and women and men in their
leadership. Although larger landlords jumped on the bandwagon and
over the years contributed large sums to finance the
organization, SPOA only showcased people who looked sympathetic.

Its first big test came in the 1989 local elections. Sullivan and
two other long-time pro-rent control councilors declined to run,
and landlords succeeded in getting a local ballot question,
Proposition 1-2-3, before the voters. Proposition 1-2-3 would
have allowed landlords to sell condo units to tenants who had
lived in their units for two years, thereby converting the units
from rental to owner-occupancy and doing away with a large piece
of the removal ordinance. Proposition 1-2-3's supporters declared
that it gave tenants a "choice" whether to own or rent. But
tenants were not fooled, and Proposition 1-2-3 was defeated two-
to-one. Also, for the first time, voters elected a six-to-three
pro-rent control City Council.

SPOA then turned to a legal challenge, filing a many count
constitutional attack on Cambridge's rent control laws. In March
1993, when most of their claims were dismissed, they began to
look for other alternatives.

Meanwhile, from 1989 to 1994, SPOA's media blitz continued. Condo
owners lamented that they were not allowed to live in their
units. Reports on local news programs featured crying elderly
widows and immigrant families contrasted with a few high profile
"undeserving tenants," such as a state supreme court judge and a
state legislator with a Cambridge pied-a-terre. SPOA targeted
Cambridge's mayor, a lawyer who stayed on in his rent controlled
apartment after his mother died. Articles in legal and business
trade journals told SPOA's version of cases. By 1994, many people
outside of Cambridge believed that rent control didn't work and
that it unfairly harmed landlords.

Few, if any, stories reported that rent control allowed thousands
of people to live in Cambridge by keeping rents at reasonable
levels, or that the rent board's rent adjustment formulas
strongly favored landlords, or that, because the removal permit
ordinance eliminated the speculative drive from the rental
market, Cambridge was saved from the 1980s real estate boom and
subsequent bust. No one read about how many SPOA landlords were
able to buy their buildings because rent control kept property
prices down. Although the mayor was portrayed as getting a free
ride, the fact that he was not a wealthy man and had lived in his
apartment for years with his elderly mother was ignored.

The Beginning of the End

In the summer of 1993, SPOA came up with what would turn out to
be its trump: a state-wide initiative campaign to ban rent
control. The first step was to get the state attorney general to
certify the ballot question. Over the objection that the question
was unconstitutional under state law because it only applied to
"particular localities" (i.e. those with rent control), the
attorney general approved the question in September 1993. This
paved the way for SPOA-now operating under the name of the
Massachusetts Homeowners Coalition (MHC) for campaign finance
purposes-to obtain sufficient signatures to place the matter on
the November 1994 state-wide ballot. Using local Realtors, paid
canvassers, and themselves, MHC barely mustered the necessary
signatures.

The way to a statewide vote, however, was not yet clear. After
receiving permission from the state campaign finance agency,
Cambridge and several individuals filed suit, contending that
since the ban only effected localities that had rent control, the
localities exclusion barred it from the initiative process. The
state supreme court (SJC) heard the case in May 1994 and rejected
the argument in July.

"Question 9" would thus appear on the ballot in over three
hundred cities and towns in Massachusetts, although it would
affect only Boston, Brookline, and Cambridge.

The 1994 Campaign

To combat MHC, tenants formed a political action group called the
Save Our Communities Coalition (SOCC). After conducting focus
group research, SOCC chose a strategy that emphasized how the
loss of rent control would impact the elderly, particularly in
Boston. The slogan "Bad for Elderly-Bad for You" appeared on
SOCC's bumper stickers and posters. SOCC also organized several
demonstrations and meetings, mostly in Cambridge and Boston, but
received little media coverage. A letter signed by over 60
Cambridge property owners (homeowners and some owners of rent
controlled buildings) supporting rent control ran as an ad in
over 50 newspapers throughout the state.

The American Association of Retired Persons, unions, and a large
array of progressive groups endorsed the "Vote No on 9" campaign.
The Boston Globe editorialized against Question 9, because it
would unfairly interfere with home rule-the rights of cities and
towns to fashion local solutions to local problems-and because it
was fundamentally undemocratic to allow the rest of the state to
decide policy for Boston, Brookline and Cambridge.

These efforts, however, lost the contest for monetary support and
visibility to MHC. In an election year where government
regulation was portrayed as the enemy, what better strategy than
to use rent control as the prime example of governmental excess?
MHC's logo showed a house with the words "Get Gov't Out"
emblazoned across it. Radio and TV ads focused on a few of SPOA's
prime examples of the "unfairness" of rent control, particularly
in Cambridge. Through its far greater financial resources, its
access to radio talk shows, and its ready-made network of
Realtors, MHC was far more able than SOCC to communicate its
message to voters.

On a long election night, the results in eight other ballot
questions came in by midnight, but Question 9 was still too close
to call. By dawn, the news became painfully clear. Although
Question 9 failed in Boston, Brookline, and Cambridge, it won the
state by 51 percent, mostly from the wealthier suburbs and those
communities within reach of the Boston media. As of January 1,
1995, rent control would be banned in Massachusetts.

The Endgame

Perhaps realizing the seriousness of the situation for the first
time, Cambridge tenants stormed the next few City Council
meetings and demanded that a new home rule petition be sent to
the state legislature. Tenants packed City Hall in numbers and
diversity unseen since the days of CTOC. Led by activists still
around from then, the relatively new low-income neighborhood
group Eviction Free Zone (EFZ), and the few CTU regulars, tenants
testified to the hardships that the loss of rent control would
bring. Nurses and fire-fighters, parents and children, elders who
had lived in their apartments for over fifty years-all told
moving and compelling stories. And finally, the print and
broadcast media began reporting them.

SPOA responded by saying that "the voters had spoken," that SPOA
had won, and that the tenants should accept the results and give
up.

Pleased that the vote was so close, reacting to tenant outcries,
and relying on the majority no votes in their communities,
officials from Cambridge, Boston, and Brookline quickly readied
home rule petitions. But these officials also assessed the
chances of strong legislation passing and being signed by
Republican Governor William Weld, fresh from a 70 percent
election victory. Although the legislative leadership was
supportive, Weld declared he would veto any new rent control
laws.

Given Question 9's January 1, 1995, implementation date and the
need to move a bill through the lame-duck legislature before the
session's end on January 3, the Cambridge City Council met almost
daily to craft a plan that would meet the concerns of tenants,
landlords, the legislature, and the governor. The word from the
State House was that if at least six of the nine council members,
including those traditionally opposed to rent control, could
agree on a compromise, it might be approved.

The debate was emotional and intense. The City Council passed a
compromise bill at the eleventh hour before petition needed to be
filed at the legislature the next day. One pro-rent control
councilor voted against it and one voted "present;" three pro-
rent control and three anti-rent control councilors voted for it;
and one member, William Walsh, the staunchest anti-rent control
councilor, was not there. On November 15, he had been sentenced
for federal bank fraud, and under state law, deprived of his
council seat. The pro-rent control councilors who supported the
compromise agreed that it was a terrible bill, but the only
choice, given that Question 9 would ban rent control altogether
on January 1. As Frank Duehay, the sole remaining councilor who
had voted for rent control in 1970, said in justifying his vote:
"This is one of the saddest days of my life... I have to ask, is
it better to have something or is it better to have absolutely
nothing?"

The new law would have provided for decontrol of most units by
July 31, 1995, and would have eliminated restrictions on owner-
occupancy of condominiums. It would have kept rent control for
five years in buildings with seven units or more for tenants who
were 62 or over, physically handicapped, or whose incomes were
less than 90 percent of the median for Boston. The petition
passed the Massachusetts House of Representatives by enough votes
to override a veto. It passed the state Senate by two votes. SPOA
continued to lobby against it. Governor Weld repeated his
intention to veto it.

Meanwhile another challenge, to the legality of the election
itself, was brewing. The nine questions on the 1994 ballot had
been the most in Massachusetts in a long time. Although law
requires a summary of each question to be printed on the ballot,
the secretary of state had ruled that the ballots did not have
enough room and that separate summaries could be distributed at
the polls. On election day, except in a handful of towns that
still used paper ballots, voters found ballots listing only
question numbers with a choice of "yes" or "no." No title or
description of the subject matter, much less the actual summary,
appeared. Confusion was compounded because on some ballots a
"yes" vote was a vote to change the current law (such as Question
9), while on others it was a vote to keep the status quo.

Disturbed by a seemingly flagrant legal violation and responding
to widespread reports of voters not receiving any summaries,
supporters of rent control and another ballot question sued to
invalidate the election. On November 29, 1994, in the first
positive legal development for rent-control supporters in over a
year since the ballot question fight began, a Superior Court
judge enjoined the election results from becoming law.

The fate of all the questions was in doubt. Since this obviously
had widespread consequences, the SJC pushed for a full court
hearing as soon as possible. This occurred on December 22.

While the ballot question scenario was unfolding, the home rule
petitions were stalled at the governor's office. Tenant advocates
knew they didn't have enough votes to override a veto. Even if
the court ruled that the summaries did not have to be on the
ballot, it could be too late to prevent rent control from being
repealed. Rent control supporters would then have to start over
with a new legislature and a hostile governor.

On December 27, the SJC issued an order approving the omission of
the summaries from the ballot. The injunction against Question 9
remained in force through the end of the legislative session.

The action shifted back to the State House. The governor repeated
that he would not sign any law that kept rent control. SPOA,
along with the Greater Boston Real Estate Board, kept lobbying
against anything other than the outright ban contained in
Question 9. On the afternoon of January 3, Weld announced that he
and the real estate industry had reached an agreement on a
transitional law, which, in the words of one legislator, would
allow rent control "to die with dignity." The law technically
would apply throughout the state, because it was not a home rule
petition and would not need local approval; it would also
supersede Question 9.

The law immediately decontrolled all units not occupied on
November 8, 1994 (election day), by a tenant with an income of
60% or less than the median for Boston ($21,500 for a single
person). For tenants who were 62 or over or disabled, the limit
was 80% of the median income ($ 27,950). The incomes of all
persons residing in a unit were counted, and full-time students
were not protected. Rent control for "protected tenants" in
buildings with up to twelve units would end on December 31, 1995;
those in buildings of over twelve units had until December 31,
1996. The rent board lost jurisdiction over evictions, and
removal regulation was eliminated.

Just before midnight on January 3, the legislature enacted the
real estate industry law that killed rent control in Cambridge,
Boston, and Brookline. Governor Weld signed it the next morning.

What Went Wrong?

Some believe that rent control advocates were too rigid, that
Cambridge's failure to "reform" rent control by responding to
legitimate landlord complaints brought the whole system down,
that if some provisions had been relaxed, for example, letting
owners live in condos, SPOA would not have been pushed to the
extreme. Others pointed to the inequity of a system that allowed
the mayor and an SJC judge to live in rent controlled apartments
while failing to assure that low-rent units went to those who
needed them most.

Of course, mistakes were made. CTU and SOCC had failed to
recognize and adequately respond to the highly visible examples
of wealthy/well-placed tenants living in rent controlled units.
This serious underestimation of public perception deprived
tenants of a counter to landlord propaganda. Additionally, by
focusing on the effect of rent control's loss on the elderly,
instead of also making the home rule and basic democracy
arguments, SOCC may have miscalculated. Finally, although CTU
purported to speak for Cambridge tenants, their activists were
not organizers, and Cambridge tenants did not through the years
maintain the type of organization that could have countered SPOA.
Even accounting for obvious differences in money and power,
Cambridge tenants lost the initiative before they lost the '94
election.

But it also seems clear that SPOA would not have been satisfied
with reforms that made rent control more favorable to landlords.
From the outset, the group's aim was to defeat rent control in
Cambridge, which was evident from its repeated statements that
rent control was both fundamentally unfair and illegal. Easing
various provisions would have only encouraged SPOA to push for
more until the goal was achieved: a free market economy in
Cambridge's rent controlled housing-the same system that laid the
groundwork in the late '60s for tenant organizing that led to
rent control.

Renewal

The seeds for rebuilding are now being sown. EFZ has mobilized
activists, including veterans from CTOC, labor struggles and
neighborhood issues, to begin organizing tenant unions. EFZ is
training tenants, providing written materials, offering access to
legal advice-in short, re-building a tenants' movement. It has
announced an ambitious "Housing Justice Program" that seeks to
negotiate leases with rent increases tied to tenant incomes and
just cause eviction protection. The Housing Justice Program also
calls for tax abatements for landlords who keep rents at
reasonable levels and a real estate transfer tax to capture some
of the profit that will be made from sales of newly decontrolled
properties.

It is too soon to assess the impact of EFZ's efforts, but its
leadership is comprised of respected and experienced tenant
advocates. If Cambridge tenants are to reclaim some of the power
they lost when they lost rent control, only well-organized and
broad-based organizations like EFZ can make that happen.

In the end, Cambridge held off the tide of deregulation longer
than anywhere else, until finally the "get gov't out" fever swept
over the city as well as the rest of the country. But Cambridge
activists who fought to protect tenants for years can be proud
that so many people were protected for so long. And they know
from experience that "the struggle continues."


PATRICIA CANTOR, who served as counsel to the Cambridge rent
board and was an active member of the Cambridge Tenants
Organizing Committee, is now an attorney in private practice.

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