Election in Newark: Was Ras Baraka’s win a referendum on Cory Booker?

—Andra Gillespie

Three days ago, Newark, New Jersey ushered in a new era of government when voters elected South Ward Councilman Ras Baraka as the permanent replacement for former Mayor (and now Senator) Cory Booker.

As I noted in The New Black Politician, Baraka and Booker are polar opposites. Booker is the Ivy-League and Oxford educated, suburban-bred son of IBM executives who brought a deracialized campaign persona, neoliberal policy proposals and tremendous national and international attention to the city. Baraka is the son of the late poet Amiri Baraka who brought his parents progressive, nationalist and activist sensibilities into formal politics. The only things these two men share are a common racial identification and birth year.

In the days since Baraka’s victory over law professor and former School Advisory Board Chairman Shavar Jeffries, many have asked whether this week’s election was a referendum on Cory Booker. My response is yes, in part. While Tuesday’s results do shed light on the current status of Booker’s legacy, the interpretation is far more nuanced.

Booker and Jeffries are neither close friends nor formal political allies, but they do have a few things in common. They are both Ivy League educated lawyers. Both have been advocates of school reform. Both employed deracialized campaign techniques to appeal to nonblack voters in Newark. And both were avid fundraisers. As a result of this, there are some similarities in Tuesday’s election results and results from the 2002 Newark mayoral race, where Cory Booker lost to then-Mayor Sharpe James. Booker lost by about 6.5 percentage points; Jeffries lost by about 8 percentage points. In 2002, Booker won the mostly Latino and Portuguese North and East Wards of the city; Jeffries did the same on Tuesday. As Marshall Curry suggests in his documentary Street Fight, Sharpe James had a better field operation in 2002; in 2014, Ras Baraka had a stronger field operation. In both cases, better GOTV contributed to the victor’s margin.

So to what extent was Shavar Jeffries’ defeat a reaction to Cory Booker?  Certainly, Ras Baraka’s base included people who were dissatisfied with the Booker administration. But a majority of voters may have been satisfied with Booker’s performance as mayor. Publicly released polls indicate that Booker had a nearly 70% approval rating in October 2012, and in my own polling in Newark in August and October 2013 put Booker’s unweighted disapproval rating at 37% and 24% respectively (Both of my polls have margins of + 7 points). While more recent news developments about alleged corruption and mismanagement at the Newark Watershed or the city’s $93 million budget deficit have likely tarnished Booker’s reputation, anti-Booker backlash is probably only part of the story.

The insider/outsider dimension probably best explains opposition to Shavar Jeffries.  Jeffries is different from Booker in large part because he is a native son. Born in Newark to a single mother, he was raised in the South Ward by his grandmother after his stepfather murdered his mother. Jeffries became active in the Boys and Girls Club of Newark, and when he finished law school and resettled in his hometown, he became active in the Boys and Girls Club leadership and on the board of a local charter school. While Jeffries was civically engaged, he wasn’t well known outside of his circle. And though Jeffries made an impressive showing in his school board victory, that election, with its low turnout and low visibility, did little to raise his citywide profile. As a result, in October 2012, 77% of Newark voters polled had no idea who he was. If there is anything I have learned about Newarkers in the twelve years I have been conducting research in the city, it is that they really want to get to know their political candidates. That Shavar Jeffries performed as well as he did is notable; however, voters would have to become more comfortable with him in order to elect him as mayor, and that takes time.

There are two parts to the insider/outsider dimension. Voters were paying attention not only to their familiarity with the candidates, but also to the candidates’ backers.  While Baraka assembled a grassroots coalition that was backed by labor unions, Jeffries received a strong assist from the Democratic machine. Political bosses Steve Adubato, George Norcross and Essex County Executive Joseph DiVincenzo backed Jeffries, lent volunteers and even raised independent expenditure money to promote Jeffries. This support made this mayoral race competitive, but it raised suspicions among some voters who were concerned about machine influence in Newark politics.

This point demonstrates the biggest difference between Booker and Jeffries. While both candidates attracted support from Wall Street, and while Booker sometimes strategically aligns with the Democratic Party establishment, Booker has largely been viewed as independent of the machine.  While surrogates certainly raise and spend money on his behalf, he is his own fundraising juggernaut. For now, that buys him leverage that Shavar Jeffries does not have. And while Booker is certainly sensitive to the interests of his donors (who can forget the brouhaha when Booker defended his friends in private equity from attacks from the Obama campaign on Meet the Press?), he does not need to rely on independent expenditure support to get elected. No doubt, some of Ras Baraka’s supporters were deeply troubled by Jeffries’ reliance on independent expenditures.

Going forward, Cory Booker’s mayoral legacy will be inextricably tied to Ras Baraka’s legacy.  Each mayor’s performance will reflect on the other. I expect that Baraka will govern differently. As a school principal who has been vocal in his opposition to School Superintendent Cami Anderson, I expect that he will push for a different approach to improving schools. I would also expect him to more heavily scrutinize economic development proposals and be less generous in the tax incentives that his administration offers.

The change in governing style will create conditions for a type of natural experiment where we can determine the effectiveness of neoliberal versus progressive approaches to achieving policy goals like attracting economic development, reducing unemployment and crime and improving housing options for city residents. If Baraka changes the city’s course and Newark thrives, then that will reflect poorly on Booker’s legacy. If Baraka institutes changes and the city falters, though, Booker’s vision will be vindicated.

Andra Gillespie is associate professor of political science at Emory University and author of The New Black Politician: Cory Booker, Newark, and Post-Racial America (NYU Press, 2012).

Should affirmative action be based on income?

Following last week’s Supreme Court decision to uphold a Michigan constitutional amendment that bans affirmative action in admissions to the state’s public universities, the New York Times’ Room for Debate posed the question: “Should affirmative action be based on income?”

F. Michael Higginbotham, author of Ghosts of Jim Crow, was invited to weigh in on the discussion. Read his response below, and be sure to check out insight from all of the debaters over at the NYT’s Room for Debate.

It’s not time for income-based affirmative action; race-based preference is still vital in the United States given the country’s history of slavery and its continuing, pervasive racial discrimination. To think otherwise is selective memory loss.

The Schuette decision upheld the right of Michigan voters to prohibit affirmative action in admissions to state colleges and universities. But that reasoning is flawed in two ways. First, affirmative action is characterized as an unfair preference rather than a justified remedy. And second, the decision whether to ban affirmative action is left to the electoral process.

To understand this flawed reasoning, one must go back to the beginning of the affirmative action debate during Reconstruction. In the civil rights cases of 1883, the Supreme Court held that the 14th Amendment did not empower Congress to prohibit owners of public accommodations from discriminating against black patrons. The owners were free to decide themselves. In his opinion for the court, Justice Joseph Bradley wondered when black Americans would stop being given special treatment under the law and become mere citizens.

Unfortunately, Schuette seems to embrace this same characterization of affirmative action as preferential treatment that may be prohibited by majority vote. Justice Anthony Kennedy, writing for a plurality, said that voters in Michigan chose to eliminate racial preferences because nothing in the Constitution gives judges the authority to undermine the election results.

Yet, erroneously characterizing affirmative action as an unfair preference allows the court to defer to the electoral process just as it deferred to property owners in the 1880s. Justice Harold Blackmun recognized this error before he retired in 1994. Speaking about a seemingly consistent majority of five Supreme Court Justices on the key civil rights and race relations cases of the 1980s, Blackmun said: “One wonders whether the majority still believes that race discrimination—or, more accurately, race discrimination against non-whites—is a problem in our society, or even remembers that it ever was.”

While 20 years have passed and several new justices have been appointed, racial disparities remain alarmingly wide. Black unemployment, poverty and homelessness are twice that of whites. Wealth accumulation for blacks is one twentieth of what it is for whites. Similar disparities exist for Hispanics. Racial profiling in the criminal justice system is rampant.

Affirmative action raises difficult questions of access and fairness. This country’s continuing failure to significantly reduce de facto discrimination prevents many from receiving equal protection today. Affirmative action helps off set this imbalance.

F. Michael Higginbotham is the Wilson H. Elkins Professor of Law at the University of Baltimore, former interim dean and the author of Ghosts of Jim Crow: Ending Racism In Post-Racial America (NYU Press, 2013).

Abortion: Race, rape, and the Right

—Gregory S. Parks

I want to tell you a story. I’m going to ask you all to close your eyes while I tell you the story. . . This is a story about a little girl walking home from the grocery store one sunny afternoon. . . Can you see her? Her raped, beaten, broken body soaked in their urine, soaked in their semen, soaked in her blood, left to die. Can you see her? I want you to picture that little girl. Now imagine she’s white.

The above quote reflects powerful imagery employed by defense attorney Jake Brigance in A Time to Kill (1996)—the words spoken in his summation before an all-white, southern jury during the criminal trial of a black father who was being prosecuted for killing the white men who raped, hung, and left his young daughter for dead.

The use of racial imagery like this is nothing new in American culture. Take politics, for example: racial imagery has frequently been used to sway public opinion and win elections. In 1990, when Jesse Helms, a white United States Senator from North Carolina, faced Harvey Gantt, a black challenger, race played a role in Helms’ campaign. Specifically, in an effort to allege that Gantt supported racial quotas that would benefit blacks, Helms ran an advertisement that showed the hands of a white person crumbling an employment rejection letter. “You needed that job,” the announcer said, “and you were the best qualified. But they had to give it to a minority because of a racial quota. Is that really fair?” The ad was broadcast a few days before the election, and arguably boosted Helms to victory. This should be of no surprise; social scientists have demonstrated for years that emotion is highly predictive of voters’ judgment and decision-making. Let’s have a little thought experiment that contemplates the extent to which racial imagery might effectuate a change in constituent attitudes in other political spheres today.

Ever since the United States Supreme Court’s Roe v. Wade decision, which expanded women’s access to abortion, Republicans have sought to reverse those gains. More recently, Republican politicians, including Richard Mourdock (state of Indiana Treasurer), have asserted that life is a gift from God, and abortions should only be allowed when the mother’s life is at risk.

As a justification for the all-out ban on abortion, Todd Akin (former U.S. Representative for Missouri) has touted that in cases of “legitimate rape,” pregnancy is rare because a woman’s body is able to prevent an unwanted pregnancy. Some Republicans, such as Joe Walsh (former U.S. Representative for Illinois), believe that there should not even be an exception for cases where the mother’s life may be at risk because, according to Walsh, “’with modern technology and science, you can’t find one instance’ in which a woman would actually die.”

The challenge for such politicians, and those who subscribe to their mode of thinking, is to not to imagine some amorphous victim. Rather, they should, in the words of Jake Brigance, “[n]ow imagine she’s white” and her rapist is black. Would they then feel the same way about abortion in instances of rape? I believe they would not, given the history of race, anti-miscegenation attitudes, and political ideology in America.

In the early 1900s, the mandatory separation of blacks and whites in social settings, referred to as Jim Crow, applied to all aspects of life in the South, including public schools and marriage statutes. The idea of “white womanhood” was a major part of white supremacy and was an essential part of the Jim Crow system in the South. White womanhood was premised on a belief that a “lady” must be white. While it was feared that interracial marriages would lead to the creation of “a mongrel breed of citizens” that would destroy white identity and threaten white supremacy, this was a fear only evident in cases involving white women who married non-white men. White women who brought race-based annulment cases against their husbands were protected from both colored men, as well any accusation from the woman’s husband that attacked her whiteness. When white men had children with black women, it was simply seen as a remnant of the practices observed during slavery.

In most states, the fear of a mongrel race as a result of interracial marriage was only a concern when it involved blacks. However, in Virginia, it was illegal for whites to marry anyone other than another white person. Southerners were alarmed by the increasing number of light skinned blacks, as it blurred the line between black and white and threatened both with supremacy and racial purity. Laws prohibiting miscegenation continued until 1967 when they were declared unconstitutional in the case of Loving v. Virginia. In Loving, the Virginia Supreme Court had relied primarily upon its earlier holding in Naim v. Naim. That case held that the policy behind Virginia’s anti-miscegenation statute was to prevent interracial procreation and the creation of a “mongrel breed of citizens.”

Racial segregation of public schools was a tool for reinforcing both white supremacy, as well as in preserving the purity of the white race, because of the vital, socialization role that schools play. Because public schools have the effect of shaping the beliefs and perspectives of young impressionable children, they were seen as “key social institutions for inculcating racial consciousness in whites and blacks.” By preventing socialization among black and white children, segregation of public schools was able to address the issue of the development of romantic feelings among people of different races, and consequently, the chances that interracial marriage would occur was decreased. In fact, the United States Supreme Court’s Brown v. Board of Education ruling, which declared segregation of public schools unconstitutional, led to fears that the socializing of black and white children would lead to interracial marriages, and thus, miscegenation. As a result, the ruling in Brown strengthened the fight against interracial marriage.

In the case of rape, the rape of black women was not even recognized in some states as a criminal offense. However, the rape of a white woman by a black man resulted in sentences for rape that were five times that given for convictions of other rapes and sometimes led to a sentence of death. Even the idea of a black man soliciting a white prostitute was viewed as objectionable.

This anxiety surrounding white women being the victim of black men’s libidinal pangs, concupiscent urges, and exertion of power and violence has not only been a historical and cultural-legal fact, it is contemporary and political. In 1991, a Michigan probate judge, discussing the Michigan law under which minors seeking abortions may request a waiver of the parental consent requirement, stated that he was hesitant to grant waivers but would consider doing so “in some cases, such as incest or when a white girl is raped by a black man.” In 2006, a white Maine couple allegedly kidnapped their pregnant nineteen year-old daughter to take her out of the state to have an abortion, because the father of her child was black.

And while many politicians have viewed abortion as breaking up the American family, President Richard Nixon thought that in the case of a pregnancy involving a black man and a white woman,  abortion was a necessary procedure. This is not surprising, given empirical research demonstrating that whites’ political orientation predicts their own romantic partner preferences. White conservatives, more so than white liberals, are less likely to desire black romantic partners and more so prefer white romantic partners. This preference, and its implications, may not even be conscious; researchers have found that political conservativism is predictive of automatic favoring high status over low status groups as well as whites over blacks.

With all this said, the recent tweet from an anonymous writer on MSNBC’s official Twitter account suggesting that conservatives hate interracial marriages may have been more accurate than inflammatory. (“Maybe the rightwing will hate it, but everyone else will go awww: the adorable new #Cheerios ad w/ biracial family,” the tweet read.) It is this anxiety, or hostility, by some on the political Right against black male/white female interracial love, sex, marriage, and in the worst of scenarios, rape, that should help inform their judgments about abortion.

Gregory S. Parks is Assistant Professor of Law, Wake Forest University School of Law. He is co-author (with Matthew W. Hughey) of The Wrongs of the Right: Language, Race, and the Republican Party in the Age of Obama (NYU Press, 2014).

Black History Month: Remembering the sacrifices of everyday activists

—Sekou M. Franklin

In the upcoming months, there will be countless celebrations marking the passage of the 1964 Civil Rights Act and the Voting Rights of 1965. Without a doubt, these laws were crowning achievements in American political history. Congress did in fact adopt two civil rights measures in 1957 and 1960. Yet, they were watered down and did little to contain racial hostilities in the Jim Crow South. Thus by the 1960s, many lawmakers and contenders for the White House were pessimistic about the prospects of passing transformative civil rights policies, especially over the objections of pro-segregationist lawmakers.

Reminding Americans of this history is important as we embark on a series of fiftieth anniversary celebrations. American political institutions (and the leaders that shaped them) had little hope that the long arm of the federal government could be used to bring down de jure segregation. Civil rights and grassroots activists, on the other hand, pushed forward and brought pressure to bear at great risk to their families, communities, and civic institutions. Most of these activists were part of an invisible segment of American political discourse—activists who are unfamiliar to mainstream media and the American public, but through the use of diverse strategies and tactics, helped to usher in major civil rights and social reforms.

In my forthcoming book After the Rebellion: Black Youth, Social Movement Activism, and the Post-Civil Rights Generation, I highlight the important contributions of these unfamiliar activists and groups. I focus on youth-based movements and intergenerational collaborations of the post-civil rights era such as the Free South Africa Movement, the Black Student Leadership Network, the New Haven Youth Movement, the Juvenile Justice Reform Movement, and the AFL-CIO’s Union Summer initiative. The book also highlights the work of movement formations of the 1930s/1940s and 1960s/1970s. These include the Southern Negro Youth Congress, the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, the Student Organization for Black Unity, and the African Liberation Support Committee.

By focusing on youth-based movements, I wanted to shed light on how an invisible segment of American politics helped to remedy longstanding and seemingly insurmountable inequities. At the same time, the book looks at how these movement formations wrestled with the internal challenges of movement building such as raising resources, sustaining intergenerational collaborations, surviving political repression, and embedding young activists into grassroots networks.

As we celebrate Black History Month, it is important to remember that the civil rights victories of the 1960s were won because of the sacrifices of ordinary Americans, activists, and organizations. Though most are largely ignored in contemporary political discourse, they were central to the advancement of an emancipatory vision of racial democracy and internationalism.

Sekou M. Franklin is Associate Professor of Political Science at Middle Tennessee State University (MTSU) and the author of After the Rebellion: Black Youth, Social Movement Activism, and the Post-Civil Rights Generation (NYU Press, 2014).

GOP’s slick Black History ads fall short, miss the point

—Andra Gillespie

[Note: This op-ed originally appeared on CNN.com on February 5, 2014.]

It’s February and Black History Month, and networks and major consumer brands are reprising their annual ad campaigns honoring the contributions of African-Americans to the arts, politics, technology and commerce.

This year, a new player is sponsoring Black History Month ads: the Republican National Committee.

In spots airing on black radio and television stations in select media markets, the RNC praises the contributions of black Republicans such as Louis Sullivan, a former secretary of health and human services under President George H.W. Bush.

This ad campaign is part of a larger Republican strategy to reach out to minority voters. After President Barack Obama won more than 70% of the vote among blacks, Latinos and Asian-Americans (93% among blacks alone) in 2012, the Republican National Committee redoubled its efforts to court minority voters. This ad campaign is a part of that effort.

A well-produced, uplifting ad campaign will not be enough to convince black Democrats to switch their party identification, though.

For every ad praising Sen. Tim Scott, the Republican Party has had to put out fires created by state and local officials who make insensitive racial comments. For instance, in the past two weeks, the Iowa Republican Party had to fire the mastermind behind the “Is Someone a Racist?” flow chart on its Facebook page. The flow chart flippantly charged that racists are white people you don’t like.

By this point, some Republicans are probably wondering why blacks don’t seem to punish liberals and Democrats for their racial missteps. Democrat-friendly MSNBC has faced strong and valid criticism for its recent taunts of the Romney family’s transracial adoption and its assumptions that conservative Republicans don’t marry interracially. For his part, Fox host Bill O’Reilly raised eyebrows when he asked Obama why he had not done more to lower the out-of-wedlock birth rate among blacks.

The answer is rooted in a long, complicated history of race and partisanship and in psychological frames that the GOP ignores at its peril.

Some Republicans rightfully point out that during the civil rights movement, Southern Democrats tried to block passage of the Civil and Voting Rights Acts. They forget, however, that in the past 50 years, white Southern Democrats (both racists and non-racists) have gradually shifted their party identification to the Republican Party. They don’t account for the fact that GOP has admitted to (and apologized for) purposely using racially coded language to win over racially resentful whites in the wake of the civil rights movement.

And they ignore data that confirm that while black political views have moderated in the past generation, blacks still tend to prefer a stronger federal state and greater governmental intervention, in large part because they perceive the federal government to have done a better job than state and local officials at protecting civil rights.

Perhaps the biggest impediment to the GOP’s outreach efforts among blacks, though, is its misunderstanding of the importance of group dynamics to individual political decision-making.

Republicans value limited government and personal liberty, traits that celebrate rugged individualism and a view of politics that assumes that self-interest informs most policy preferences. Numerous studies have shown that many blacks and Latinos believe that what happens to other blacks and Latinos affects them. This belief that their fates are linked to the fates of their co-ethnics informs liberal policy and political preferences.

It means that an affluent black person might be willing to pay higher taxes if it helps maintain the food stamp program, which helps poor, disproportionately minority people. Or that a Latina born in the United States might wince when Republican congressional candidates voice their opposition to immigration reform because she perceives that tone of the opposition evinces a general antipathy toward Latinos regardless of their nativity.

Don’t get me wrong, Republican outreach to blacks is a good thing, and I hope to see more of it.

Republican candidates who win office need to engage their black and minority constituents, and Democrats should not assume that blacks (or any other group) will always vote Democratic.

However, a polished ad campaign alone is not enough to win over black voters. If the GOP hopes to become significantly more competitive among blacks, it will have to acknowledge the importance of group identity to blacks and other minorities and learn how to frame their principles in terms of group interests.

Andra Gillespie is associate professor of political science at Emory University and author of The New Black Politician: Cory Booker, Newark, and Post-Racial America (NYU Press, 2012).

The racism that still plagues America

Excerpted from The Price of Paradise: The Costs of Inequality and a Vision for a More Equitable America by David Dante Troutt (NYU Press, 2014).

The impatience that characterizes discussions of race and racism in our so-called color-blind society has its roots in the momentous  legislative changes of the 1960s. The Civil Rights Acts of 1964, 1965, and 1968 reached into nearly every aspect of daily life—from segregated facilities to voting to housing—and represented a long overdue re-installation of the equality principle in our social compact. The question was what it would take—and from whom—to get to equality.

Was racial equality something that could be had without sacrifice? If not, then who would be forced to participate and who would be exempt? As implementation of the laws engendered a far-reaching bureaucracy of agencies, rules, and programs for everything from affirmative action hiring goals to federal contracting formula, the commitment was quickly tested. For a great many who already opposed the changes, patience was quickly exhausted. As welfare rolls rapidly increased, crime surged, and the real and perceived burdens of busing took their toll, many voters pointed to the apparent failure of a growing federal government to fix the problems it was essentially paid to cure. Among Democratic voters this made for unsteady alliances and vulnerable anxieties. People don’t live in policy and statistics as much as they do through anecdote and personal burdens. A riot here, a horrific crime there, a job loss or perhaps the fiery oratory of a public personality could tip a liberal-leaning person’s thinking toward more conservative conclusions—or at least fuel her impatience. Impatience would ossify into anger, turning everything into monetary costs, and making these costs the basis for political opposition to a liberal state. As it happened, this process moves the date of our supposed final triumph over racism from the mid-1960s to at least the mid-1980s. In the end, impatience won.

What I call impatience, others have characterized as a simmering voter ambivalence—even antagonism, in the case of working-class whites—to civil rights remedies, one that was susceptible to the peculiar backlash politics that elected both Ronald Reagan and George Herbert Walker Bush president. Language was central to this strategy, and the language that stuck was colorblindness. As Thomas Byrne Edsall and Mary Edsall wrote in “Chain Reaction: The Impact of Race, Rights, and Taxes on American Politics,” “In facing an electorate with sharply divided commitments on race—theoretically in favor of egalitarian principle but hostile to many forms of implementation—the use of a race-free political language proved crucial to building a broad-based, center-right coalition.” Ronald Reagan managed to communicate a message that embodied all the racial resentments around poverty programs, affirmative action, minority set-asides, busing, crime, and the Supreme Court without mentioning race, something his conservative forebears—Barry Goldwater, George Wallace, and Richard Nixon—could not quite do. The linchpin was “costs” and “values.” Whenever “racism” was raised, it became an issue of “reverse racism” against whites. The effect was the conversion of millions of once fiscally liberal, middle-class suburban Democrats to the Republican Party. Issues identified with race—the “costs of liberalism”—fractured the very base of the Democratic Party. In the 1980 presidential election, for example, 22 percent of Democrats voted Republican.

By 1984, when Ronald Reagan and George Bush beat Walter Mondale and Geraldine Ferraro in the presidential election, many white Democratic voters had come to read their own party’s messages through what Edsall calls a “racial filter.” In their minds, higher taxes were directly attributable to policies of a growing federal government; they were footing the bill for minority preference programs. If the public argument was cast as wasteful spending on people of weak values, the private discussions were explicitly racial. For instance, Edsall quotes polling studies of “Reagan Democrats” in Macomb County—the union friendly Detroit suburbs that won the battle to prevent cross-district school desegregation plans in 1973—that presents poignant evidence of voter anger: “These white Democratic defectors express a profound distaste for blacks, a sentiment that pervades almost everything they think about government and politics. . . . Blacks constitute the explanation for their [white defectors’] vulnerability and for almost everything that has gone wrong in their lives; not being black is what constitutes being middle class; not living with blacks is what makes a neighborhood a decent place to live. These sentiments have important implications for Democrats, as virtually all progressive symbols and themes have been redefined in racial and pejorative terms.”

By 1988, these same voters had endorsed tax revolts across the country and had become steadfast suburbanites, drawing clearer lines between a suburban good life and the crime and crack-infested city. Still they were angry, as magazine articles chronicled the rising political significance of what would be known as the “Angry White Male” voter. George Bush, down seventeen points in the presidential election polls during midsummer, overcame that deficit with TV ads about murderous black convicts raping white women while on furlough. That and a pledge never to raise taxes seemed to be enough to vanquish Bush’s liberal challenger, Michael Dukakis of Massachusetts. What’s important to recognize in this transition is how as recently as twenty years ago, Americans’ social lives were very much embroiled in racial controversy—despite the obfuscatory veneer of colorblind language to the contrary. Our politics followed. The election of Bill Clinton represented a distinct centrist turn among Democrats toward Republican language and themes and away from rights, the “liberal” label, and the federal safety net. The question we might ask about our current race relations is, only a couple of decades removed from this political history, what would compel us to assume that we are beyond the legacy of our racial conflicts?

 * * *

The racial polarization that connected these political outcomes was deliberately fed by national Republican candidates in order to do more than roll back civil rights. It also served to install “supply-side economics,” a system of regressive tax-based reforms that contributed mightily to the costs of income inequality we currently face. That era—which arguably ended with the election of President Barack Obama—illustrates two points central to my examination of civic connectivity. The first is that the economic underside of racial polarization proved no more than the old okey doke. The second is that localism contains its own contradictions, which have come due in our time. Let me explain.

Only racism could achieve the ideological union of the Republican rich with the working man (and woman). Nothing else could fuse their naturally opposed interests. The essence of supply-side economics was its belief in the importance of liberating the affluent from tax and regulatory burdens, a faith not typically shared by lower-income households who might at best see benefits “trickle down” to them. In fact, they often paid more under tax-reform schemes of the 1980s.  Edsall provides data on the combined federal tax rate that include all taxes—income, Social Security, and so forth. Between 1980 and 1990, families in the bottom fifth of all earners saw their rates increase by 16.1 percent; it increased by 6 percent for those in the second-lowest fifth (the lower middle class); and it increased by 1.2 percent for those in the middle fifth (the middle middle class). But those in the second-highest fifth of all income earners saw a cut in their tax rate by 2.2 percent during that decade; and those in the top fifth got a 5.5 percent decrease in their rate. Overall, the richest 10 percent of American earners received a 7.3 percent decrease in their combined federal tax rate. The top 1 percent? A 14.4 percent cut during the 1980s. Clearly this hurt the middle class, as the vaunted trickle down never arrived. But it was working-class whites who bought the message that this model of fiscal conservatism, married to social conservatism in the form of a rollback of redistributive programs they perceived to favor blacks, would benefit them. It did not. Yet it established a popular political rhetoric by which lower-income whites can be counted on to take up against “liberal” policies that may actually serve their interests as long as opposition can be wrapped in the trappings of “traditional values,” “law and order,” “special interests,” “reverse racism,” and “smaller government.” This was pure okey doke based on an erroneous notion of zero-sum mutuality—that is, that whatever “the blacks” get hurts me.

Which also demonstrates the contradictions of localism. Remember my earlier argument that localism—or local control expressed formally through home rule grants, as it’s sometimes known—became the spatial successor to Jim Crow segregation. Through racially “neutral” land use and housing policy, it kept white communities white after the fall of legal segregation in the late 1950s and mid-1960s. Yet here’s the contradiction. While voters opposed to civil rights remedies and Great Society programs followed Republican leadership toward fiscal conservatism at the national level, they maintained their fiscal liberalism at the local level. The tax base they created for themselves through property taxes in suburbia could be contained and spent locally. Edsall describes the irony this way: “Suburbanization has permitted whites to satisfy liberal ideals revolving around activist government, while keeping to a minimum the number of blacks and the poor who share in government largess.” Of course, all of this worked best when “suburbs” meant middle-class white people and “cities” (or today’s “urban” areas) always signaled black and brown people. There was no mutuality of interests between the two kinds of places. It also worked when low property taxes—together with generous state aid—could reliably pay for great local public services like schools, libraries, and fire protection. It was a terrific deal. But that was then. Now, neither is true. The line between cities and suburbs has blurred into regions, and minorities and whites are busy crossing back and forth to work, live, and shop. Most of the fragmented municipalities that sprawled across suburbia are no longer able to sustain their own budgets, threatening the quality of their services, despite unimaginably high property taxes. The assumptions have not held.

Perhaps now we should consider the racially polarizing policies that became the norm under Reagan’s failed experiment. We tried them. Some believed fervently in them. But it is clear that they didn’t work and are not in our long-term national or local interest. There remains a legacy of racism, however, that continues to harm some of us disproportionately and all of us eventually. It’s to those three examples that I now turn.

Read the rest of this excerpt at Salon.com.

The New Southern Strategy: GOP plays the race card (again)

—Matthew W. Hughey and Gregory S. Parks

At a recent Tea Party meeting in Hood County, Texas, Rafael Cruz, the father of Sen. Ted Cruz (R-Texas), made bold statements reeking of white supremacy and Christian nativism, suggesting that the U.S. is a “Christian nation,” in which the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution were a “divine revelation from God […] yet our president has the gall to tell us that this is not a Christian nation […] The United States of America was formed to honor the word of God.” And just months prior to that event, in speaking to the North Tea Party on behalf of his son Ted (who was then running for Senate), Rafael urged the crowd to send Obama “back to Kenya.”

In the wake of the political dysfunction, gridlock, and rightwing obstruction, these statements certainly gesture toward important questions. Namely, is Rafael Cruz merely a “bad apple” that threatens to spoil the GOP or are his comments indicative of a larger strategic rhetoric that resonates with the lesser angels of our nature?

We suggest the latter.

Since the “Southern Strategy” whereby the GOP turned its back on Civil Rights and began courting white Southerners who believed they were victims of a new reverse racism social order, the Republican Party has employed subtle (and not so subtle, as witnessed above) rhetoric that turns on implicit anti-Black and anti-immigrant messages. It is said no better than former Republican Party strategist Lee Atwater’s 1981 remarks in which he laid bare the GOP racialized strategy:

You start out in 1954 by saying, “Nigger, nigger, nigger.”  By 1968 you can’t say “nigger”—that hurts you.  Backfires.  So you say stuff like forced busing, states’ rights and all that stuff.  You’re getting so abstract now [that] you’re talking about cutting taxes, and all these things you’re talking about are totally economic things and a byproduct of them is [that] blacks get hurt worse than whites.  And subconsciously maybe that is part of it.  I’m not saying that.  But I’m saying that if it is getting that abstract, and that coded, that we are doing away with the racial problem one way or the other.  You follow me—because obviously sitting around saying, “We want to cut this,” is much more abstract than even the busing thing, and a hell of a lot more abstract than “Nigger, nigger.”

Hence, Ronald Reagan’s evocation that “welfare queens” were gaming the system sent a clear yet implicit message: Your taxes are high because Lyndon Johnson’s programs are funneling your money to undeserving and lazy black women.  When a group that supported George H. W. Bush’s presidential campaign ran a television advertisement that blamed Michael Dukakis for murders committed by Willie Horton (a black parolee who broke into a white couple’s home), the message baited white fears about young black male violence.  When Jesse Helms, a white senator from North Carolina, faced black challenger Harvey Gantt in 1990, Helms’s camp ran a television advertisement showing the hands of a white person crumbling a rejection letter with the voiceover: “You needed that job, and you were the best-qualified. But they had to give it to a minority because of a racial quota. Is that really fair?” The ad was broadcast just a few days shy of the election and boosted Helms to victory in what was previously a dead heat.

And in relation to Obama, we have a new Southern Strategy: Cruz’s comments fall lock and step with GOP and Tea Party elements that have attempted to frame Obama as either culturally out of place if not legally unable to hold the presidency. Due in part to the conservative conspiracy theorists, a small cadre of politicians (e.g., Missouri Republican Sen. Roy Blunt, or Nathan Deal, the Democrat-turned-Republican Gov. of Georgia), and already established cultural tropes that conflate whiteness and Christianity with Americaness, by the 2008 election season, studies showed that U.S. residents were more likely to associate American symbols with white politicians (e.g., Hillary Clinton) or even white European politicians (e.g., Tony Blair) than with Obama. Even when American citizens viewed an American flag they then showed implicit and explicit prejudice toward African Americans in general and reluctance to vote for Obama when compared to those not exposed to the flag.

Simply put, Barack Obama did not fit most American’s implicit idea of an authentic American, and the GOP has seized upon that opportunity to engage in the latest state of the New Southern Strategy. The playing of the race card, even in implicit fashion, remains an efficacious political strategy for those on the Right.

Matthew W. Hughey is associate professor of sociology at the University of Connecticut. Gregory S. Parks is assistant professor of law at Wake Forest University School of Law.  They are co-authors of The Wrongs of the Right: Language, Race, and the Republican Party in the Age of Obama (forthcoming in 2014 from New York University Press).

Reducing children at risk

—Robert Cherry

Today, more than half of the new mothers under 30 years old are unwed, and even enhancing the government support they receive may not substantially alter the risk their children face. A recent study finds that especially young men are less likely to flourish when raised by single mothers. Paid leave, childcare support, and universal pre-K are all policies that help these women balance work and family. However, unless there is a change in family formation, these expansions may have only modest impacts on these risks.

The rise of single motherhood reflects to a substantial degree the economic marginalization of working class men. Employment rates of young men without a four-year college degree have substantially declined and young women correctly judge that many of them are  just not going to be reliable partners. Moving Working Families Forward recommends a number of policies to better their employment prospects, including vocational high school programs that improve not only technical skills but also the soft skills – teamwork, punctuality, and interpersonal discourse – that are important to employability.

Low marriage rates are also exacerbated by the large financial penalties many working single mothers must pay for getting married. The government now provides them with substantial income support. However, virtually all those benefits are lost if a single mother marries a working partner. With the way the Earned Income Tax Credit (EITC) is structured, she could lose $3,200 or more if she qualifies for state EITC.

There have been a number of proposals for eliminating the federal component of the marriage penalty. One of them is my New Mothers Tax Relief proposal, which would virtually eliminate the federal marriage penalty by extending full EITC benefits to families with incomes of $40,000 and then slowly reduce them. About $2,000 in new benefits would then be extended to lower middle class married couples with pre-school aged children. These families often face financial pressures when they have very young children—pressures that can cause marital tensions and disruptions.

These employment and family formation proposals may be perceived as too incremental by the ideological Left and, despite their very modest costs, may be dismissed as too expensive by the Right. For those in the broad middle, however, they should be seen as vital steps in improving family stability.

Robert Cherry is Brueklundian Professor in the Department of Economics at Brooklyn College of the City University of New York and author of many books, including Moving Working Families Forward: Third Way Policies That Can Work (NYU Press, 2012).