News Analysis

UPBEAT AND STILL CHALLENGING CUOMO, IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE

ALBANY -- Starting a year when he plans to run for a third term, Gov.
George E. Pataki's theme today seemed to be back to the future.

The governor's annual address to the Legislature included an inventory of
his achievements, a long list of bills he has tried before and will try
again, and repeated references to the failings of his predecessor, Gov.
Mario M. Cuomo. It offered little that was new, and few clues as to how he
plans to solve the state's looming financial crisis.

Instead, Governor Pataki put an upbeat cast on every topic he touched,
pledging "the same confidence, the same optimism" as in brighter times --
no surprise for an incumbent seeking re-election. Even when paying tribute
to the victims and heroes of Sept. 11, his speech had the ring of a
campaign rally, a string of encomiums to the good will and good prospects
of New Yorkers.

"We responded to evil with good," he said. "We answered terror with
strength. We met adversity with resolve. We will defeat hatred with tolerance."

The Republican governor has never really stopped campaigning against Mr.
Cuomo, the Democrat he unseated in 1993. With the former governor's son,
Andrew M. Cuomo, the former United States housing secretary, now running
for the Democratic nomination, Mr. Pataki returned to that tactic repeatedly.

When he took office, he said, "Failed government policies left us with a $5
billion deficit, massive job losses, bloated government bureaucracy, an
oppressive regulatory climate and the highest taxes in America."

Mr. Pataki vowed today, despite a multibillion-dollar budget deficit, that
he would not postpone promised tax cuts, "unlike 1989, unlike 1990, '91,
'92, '93 and '94," and that he would not repeat the fiscal low points of
the Cuomo years.

"We're not going to sell prisons to ourselves," he said. "We're not going
to slash education funding in the middle of the school year. We're not
going to use fiscal gimmicks to conceal reality."

Andrew Cuomo, in a statement, criticized the governor for failing to
address problems, like a "near-Depression upstate," and complained that Mr.
Pataki had predicted a multibillion-dollar deficit in the coming budget,
but "did not tell us -- not a word -- how he plans to balance it."

State Comptroller H. Carl McCall, the other Democrat in the race, said,
"This speech was a recital of promises, mostly promises that he's made and
broken in the past."

But listeners of all political stripes called the speech strategically
smart, saying that an optimistic rallying call works well for a popular
incumbent appealing to a public still seeking solace after the World Trade
Center attacks.

"It was very rah-rah," said Assemblyman Herman D. Farrell Jr., the state
Democratic Party chairman. "It had some good sound bites, so I guess it
makes sense for him. Though on the substance of what we are going to do, it
was very thin."

Representative Thomas M. Reynolds, a Republican from western New York,
said, "In an election year, you highlight what you've accomplished -- you
dwell on the positive."

That was surely more palatable for Mr. Pataki than confronting head-on what
2002 holds for him: a potentially difficult campaign, with an economy and
state finances rocked by recession and terrorism.

The governor made a few references to fiscal woes, warning that the general
fund budget would shrink in the coming year. But he did not call for shared
sacrifice, as Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg did in his inaugural address. As
for solutions, Mr. Pataki left much of that for the release of his proposed
budget this month.

The new proposals he made, like preserving a million acres of wild land and
raising health care workers' salaries, will cost money that is suddenly scarce.

"He didn't lay much groundwork for sacrifice," said Diana Fortuna,
president of the Citizens Budget Commission.

Rather, Governor Pataki offered a resume, dwelling more on the past than
ever before in this annual ritual.

He recited his record of cutting taxes, increasing spending on education
and the environment, inaugurating or expanding a raft of health care
programs, and setting aside billions of dollars in reserve funds. He asked
again for things the Legislature had rejected, like an initiative and
referendum system, mayoral control of big-city schools, campaign finance
reform, easing of the Rockefeller-era drug laws, and anti-terror laws.

Even those failures can work to the governor's advantage. The ideas are
popular, and he can always blame a recalcitrant Legislature for their defeat.

Mr. Pataki remains no one's ideal as an orator. When punching a point, his
already reedy voice drops into a sort of emphatic whisper. His anodyne
aphorisms -- "there is no place for criminals in a society of heroes" --
often fall flat.

But his delivery has improved, and he no longer suffers from frequent,
unflattering comparisons to his predecessor's speech-making. More
important, Mr. Pataki's style is familiar and comfortable to New Yorkers.

"Obviously, it works for him," said Patricia Lynch, a former Democratic
Assembly aide and now a lobbyist. "Strategically, for a guy facing a tough
year, he handled it exactly right."