The mayor of Chicago is being diminished daily. Rather than basking in the glow of a grateful citizenry after 16 productive years in City Hall, Rich Daley is instead squirming in the glare of a federal investigation into allegedly pervasive corruption through city government.

Were a movie to be made about Daley's plight, it would be titled "The Incredible Shrinking Mayor." Every day, in every way, Daley is being diminished -- personally, politically, morally, institutionally and financially. Here's how:

First, personally, Daley's ability to help political friends and hinder political enemies has eroded to the vanishing point. After the Hired Truck scandal, 30 federal indictments, 22 guilty pleas and now the indictment of Daley's Office of Intergovernmental Affairs director and others for allegedly "fixing" city hiring lists, who wants Daley's endorsement or blessing? Daley was once viewed with reverence and respect, but now his reputation for competence and probity is withering.

So, too, is the "Fear Factor." As Daley's troubles mount, his enemies become less reticent to criticize him, and his allies become less inclined to praise and support him. The 2007 mayoral election is still 19 months away, but if the investigation by the U.S. Attorney's Office continues to uncork new scandals, then distance will be obligatory. Every ambitious politician will want to be on record with some anti-Daley utterance or anti-Daley vote.

It is often thought that political power emanates from popularity. That's not true. Power arises from fear: the capacity to control others through fear of firing, fear of dumping from office, fear of exclusion from the inner circle, and fear of being irrelevant. Daley, once fearsome, is rapidly becoming frail and toothless.

Second, politically, Daley's control of the city bureaucracy has nearly evaporated. The investigations have engendered governmental paranoia, paralysis and inertia. Loyalty to the mayor, and gratitude for getting a job or a promotion, have been replaced with a lust for self-preservation. Initiative has been replaced by caution.

The feds claim that the Daley Administration fixed personnel tests and hired thousands of city workers based on a secret color-coded clout list of those sponsored by powerful pro-Daley Democratic committeemen and office holders. Now Daley wants to have a civil service commission-like board do the hiring. So how do all these city payrollers, who constitute the backbone of the Daley political organization, feel about this?

They're going to take care of number one. Political coloration will abruptly change. They'll become nonpolitical. They won't work precincts for their sponsors. They won't want to give any public indication that they were hired because of their political efforts. And, most importantly, they'll know that they are immune from retribution, since they're not about to be fired or demoted if they don't work precincts or contribute to Daley or his allies.

If Daley runs for re-election in 2007, his precinct army will be sparse. He'll have few troops in the precincts.

Third, morally, the lapses of powerful Daley Administration functionaries have obscured the mayor's accomplishments. Much like Richard Nixon's Watergate involvement and George Ryan's fund-raising activities when he was secretary of state, Daley's legacy may be wrongdoing, not accomplishment. That's not how he envisioned his reign.

Right now, Daley's political allies -- the Hispanic Democratic Organization, run by former top Daley aides Victor Reyes and Al Sanchez, and the Lakefront Independent Democratic Organization, run by Chicago Park District superintendent Tim Mitchell -- are alienated and abandoned. They feel like they're taking the fall for simply doing what they were created to do, namely, supply the manpower to work precincts to elect pro-Daley candidates to city, county and state legislative offices. Given the level of federal scrutiny, both are now effectively neutered. Neither will be politically active in 2006 or for Daley in 2007.

Fourth, institutionally, nature abhors a vacuum, and as Daley's power and influence shrivels, other institutions and politicians will surface. Chicago's traditionally obsequious and pliant City Council will be the first to assert itself. For all of the Daley reign, virtually all of the aldermen have been the mayor's lap dogs.

But now, if it looks like the mayor's ship is sinking, none of the 50 aldermen will toss their lifejackets overboard; instead, they'll jump overboard themselves. The 45-plus pro-Daley aldermen need not necessarily transform themselves into being anti-Daley, but they will need to show some independence and cast some anti-Daley votes. If they don't, and an anti-incumbent, anti-Daley, pro-change wave hits Chicago in 2007, they'll be in trouble.

So expect a burst of contrariness. In the City Council, what Daley wants, he won't always get. And on the County Board, what Daley's brother, Finance Committee chairman John Daley, wants, he won't always get.

Likewise, other politicians will move to the fore, positioning them as the anti-Daley alternative for a mayoral run. Among black politicians, U.S. Representative Jesse Jackson Jr. (D-2), state Senator James Meeks (D-15) and Circuit Court Clerk Dorothy Brown are credible alternatives, with Jackson being the most active. At a July 15 Northwest Side rally for fired city employee Frank Coconate, Jackson ripped the Daley Administration, stating that the so-called city of broad shoulders has become one of "weak knees."

"We don't need kings," Jackson said. "We need truth. We need officials who serve people, not officials who expect to be served. We need to demand an end to fraud, favoritism and corruption. We need to demand an end to scandal and abuses."

Expect Jackson to run, but other black politicians may not defer to him. The reality is this: In a multi-candidate February 2007 primary, Daley will likely finish first, but with less than 50 percent of the vote. So who finishes second is critically important as they move to the April runoff.

Among Hispanic politicians, U.S. Representative Luis Gutierrez (D-4), a Daley ally, and former city treasurer Miriam Santos, a Daley foe, are mentioned

But it comes down to this: Who can be the anti-Daley -- the first, foremost, most credible and most acceptable alternative to the mayor? And, if it's a black or Hispanic candidate, is Chicago ready to elect a nonwhite mayor?

Fifth, financially, Daley's in a squeeze. He has $6 million in his campaign fund, but he has declared that he will not accept contributions from those doing business with the city. That's a fine gesture, but it's sort of like pitching a baseball game without any outfielders. If those who profit cannot donate, and if those who expect to profit in the future fear that a contribution will exclude them from any city contract, then who will donate?

In addition, Daley faces the "Ryan Syndrome." If the feds think that Daley is receiving questionable contributions, and that there is a nexus between so-called "corrupt acts" (favoritism in hiring or contract awards) and donations to the mayor's campaign, then the fund could be indicted and frozen.

So it comes down to this: Daley's situation has gone from bad to worse, but it has not yet degenerated from worse to intolerable. What does he do?

One option is to hang tough and run again. Daley has never been a quitter. In 1980 he was told that he was foolish to run for Cook County state's attorney, since Mayor Jane Byrne was backing Alderman Ed Burke for the post. But Daley ran and won. In 1983 Daley was told that he would be politically ruined if he stayed in the mayoral race, and that he would be accused of being a "spoiler" if he split the white vote with Byrne and allowed Harold Washington to win -- which is exactly what happened.

But even though Byrne lost, Daley wasn't ruined. He was re-elected state's attorney in 1984 and 1988, and after Washington's death, he easily won the mayoralty in 1989. Nevertheless, Daley wants to leave City Hall when he chooses, not when he loses.

The mayor's second option is to announce his retirement. He can utter the usual drivel about wanting to "spend more time with his family," and he can assert that he wants to spend the remainder of his term effectuating systemic reforms. Usually, when a target quits or retires, the feds lay off. But that didn't occur in Ryan's case, and Daley has no guarantee that, even if he quits, he won't later be indicted.

The bottom line: Daley will need to spend at least $11 million to be re-elected. Jackson will try to make the election a referendum on Daley, while the mayor will try to make the election a choice between himself and a black candidate and go negative on his foe. There's no doubt that Daley has been an effective mayor: Crime is down, property values are up, school performance is rising, and there's a sense of vibrancy and optimism throughout Chicago.

There is a "Tolerance Factor," and there is a "Fatigue Factor." Most Chicagoans are tolerant of a politicized city government as long as it provides services and a livable environment. But too much corruption will create fatigue and intolerance, and a desire for change. Chicagoans' tolerance is diminishing.