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Whitmire: The long stupid saga of Kay Ivey’s nuclear war

Whitmire: The long stupid saga of Kay Ivey’s nuclear war

This is an opinion column.

On Tuesday, Gov. Kay Ivey fired a man.

Veterans Affairs Commissioner Kent Davis did not resign to spend more time with his family. He wasn’t transferred to a broom closet job where he would earn a paycheck until he found something else.

Davis, who delivered a letter in front of a room full of his supporters, was fired, although it was unclear whether Ivey had the authority to do so.

This is the latest development so far in the long and complex struggle between government agencies:

(1) A department head, Davis, accused a cabinet member of ethical crimes and the same cabinet member was acquitted of these crimes,

(2) Davis agreed to resign and then neglected to fulfill that promise,

(3) The Board of Veterans Affairs challenges Ivey, insisting that Davis remain in office,

(4) And finally, a minor constitutional crisis.

Yes, too much.

But it is an important story to understand because there is so much at stake; Including how much power the governor of Alabama has.

And whether Ivey is still eligible to use it.

Food fight in the pig trough

Like other major wars, it started with a small dispute.

Earlier this year, the Alabama Department of Veterans Affairs threw its support behind a bill that would distribute $7 million in federal stimulus money to a handful of nonprofit organizations in the state.

The Alabama Department of Mental Health, which would help distribute this money, was scared. Authorities questioned the credentials of some non-profit organizations

This sparked a turf war between Veterans Affairs and Mental Health, which escalated until Davis, the Veterans Affairs commissioner, filed a complaint accusing Mental Health commissioner Kim Boswell, department employees and some lobbyists of ethical crimes.

I read the Veterans Affairs complaint. While I’m generally positive about this type of accountability, the complaint is vague, alleges “collusion,” and reads like a product of My Pillow School of Law, where grievances and hurt feelings are prima facie evidence of wrongdoing.

Additionally, some purported facts contained in the complaint (such as the appearance of an aggrieved party at a public meeting) were not actually true. This didn’t happen and it happened refuted by video of the meeting.

The Alabama Ethics Commission viewed things the same way and took the unusual step of publicly dismissing the complaint and exonerating those accused.

After the Mental Health commissioner was acquitted, Ivey demanded Davis’ resignation.

This is where things get sticky.

Ivey could have said: “Mr. “Davis filed a false ethics complaint accusing one of my cabinet members of crimes he didn’t commit, and I’m calling for his head for it.”

But he didn’t.

Instead, he unleashed a litany of bland allegations accusing Davis of mismanaging his department.

But none of this was particularly new, which begs the question: Why fire him now? Apparently he really wanted her gone for filing an ethics complaint. He just doesn’t want to say it.

Here’s where things get even more confusing.

Ivey did not score Davis. The VA Board does this. Since he also serves on that board, he should know this. The board can fire him as long as the votes are available.

And Ivey never had the right to vote.

Playing a political game, Ivey called a board meeting in September to fire Davis. Hours before the meeting was to begin, Davis agreed to resign at the end of the year, and Ivey agreed to leave the job at that.

A stupid fight might have had a peaceful end, but it didn’t end there.

The VA board has already reviewed Ivey’s allegations against Davis and found the allegations to be incomplete. Ivey then called another meeting to fire Davis — a meeting she did not attend, even though it was held in the hallway of her capitol office — but the board voted 3 to 2 to keep Davis.

Minutes after that meeting, the governor’s legal staff sent Davis a letter informing him that the governor had overruled the board’s decision and fired him anyway.

“Supreme executive power”

How did Ivey fire him when that was the board’s job?

By invoking something called his “supreme executive power.”

Like many other state constitutions, the Alabama constitution grants “supreme executive power” to the governor and does almost nothing to define what “supreme executive power” means.

Most governors seemed to leave it alone until about 20 years ago, when Alabama Attorney General Troy King decided he would no longer prosecute gambling in Alabama. Governor at that time. Bob Riley appointed a gambling task force to do the job King refused to do, and the whole thing turned into a mess before the Alabama Supreme Court.

The court ruled that the Alabama Constitution gives the governor “supreme executive power” to assume responsibility if other state officials fail in their jobs.

In her letter to Davis, Ivey said she failed because the board did not fire her.

And now he’s resorting to this nuclear option to get rid of it.

But the problem with nuclear options is how often they result in mutually assured destruction.

Is there anyone at home?

Three weeks ago Kay Ivey spoke to the Kiwanis Club in Birmingham and soon I began receiving the phone calls I often receive following such events.

They said he did not accept questions. He only spoke for a few minutes. He looked extremely tired, and when he was done, his staff quickly ushered him out of the room.

And they asked versions of the question Ivey has pursued throughout her administration: Is anyone home?

John Saxon was also at the meeting.

“He should have been able to at least answer a few questions,” he told me this week.

Saxon is an employment lawyer and is now Davis’ attorney.

He is threatening to sue the governor under Alabama ethics law for retaliation.

“If we file charges, I will look forward with great pleasure to hearing the Governor’s deposition and seeing how he reacts while under oath and unscripted,” Saxon said Tuesday, minutes after the governor’s office delivered the letter to Davis.

When I spoke to Saxon later that day, he said he was once again looking forward to hearing Ivey’s testimony and would invite as many people to watch the hearing as could fit in the room.

There are legal hurdles that the governor’s staff will likely throw our way.

But I’ve known Saxon for years. I saw him working in court. I also read the other statements he took. And I can say this with confidence: If Saxon unseats Ivey, it will make Joe Biden’s debate performance look like Ken Jennings’ winning streak on Jeopardy.

“Supreme executive power” may seem like the ultimate authority, but it is far from it. This is a last resort, a desperate measure. It’s the button behind the glass that you press when nothing else works.

That’s what happened here; nothing else worked.

Nothing else worked because Ivey’s team didn’t count the votes before demanding Davis’ resignation.

Nothing else worked because they couldn’t convince the board that Davis should be fired.

Nothing else worked because Ivey is now accusing the public board of not doing their job when Ivey was the one who didn’t show up for the meeting.

Nothing else worked so they pressed the button not knowing what would happen next.

Even mutually assured destruction.