WHICH CANDIDATE WOULD HELP BLACKS MOST?
NAACP Politics
Jason Sokol is a freelance writer. He is a graduate student in history at
Berkeley.
Toni Morrison once called Bill Clinton America's first black president, and judging from the hero's welcome he received at his final address before the NAACP, it seems that Morrison may only have been half-joking -- at most. In a sequence of events straight out of Bulworth, Clinton's wife, vice president, and his veep's two main adversaries all spoke at Baltimore's NAACP convention, some hoping desperately that Clinton's blackness would miraculously rub off on them.
The speeches delivered by Hillary Clinton, Al Gore, Ralph Nader, and George W. Bush highlight the growing battle among candidates to solidify the black vote, the most staunchly Democratic bloc of voters. Both directly and indirectly, the plight of black America has forever influenced elections -- from the time when white candidates debated slavery, Reconstruction, and Jim Crow to the present, as candidates attempt to win over black voters themselves. Since the Voting Rights Act of 1965, black Americans have loomed large in the choosing of a president. Their political sway, however, belies the sobering fact that no blacks have been seriously considered for the office.
In the first presidential election after the 1965 act, black Americans ended up playing a crucial role -- not because of their political preferences, but because of the racism that persisted. Richard Nixon's "Southern Strategy" swung the tide of the 1968 election, and he took a cue from George Wallace by exploiting the racial fears and prejudices of working-class whites. Nixon was able to win over voters largely through a platform of "law and order" -- a thinly veiled phrase assuring whites that blacks wouldn't cause commotions in the streets like they had in Detroit, Newark, and many other cities.
Of the four other presidents elected since Nixon, Clinton's victories hinged the most upon black voters. While Ross Perot battled George Bush for every conservative vote of the 1992 election, Clinton kept the most Democratic of voters in his corner. Clinton repeatedly scored high with black voters in the polls, and they were one of his largest segments of support during the impeachment scandal. Toni Morrison found something in this man -- who was raised by a single mother in Arkansas, a man whose mannerisms endear him to many and often make believers of skeptics, and who has a love for good barbecue -- that led her to dub him our nation's first black president. Many American blacks are simply drawn to him.
In addition, political factors can help account for Clinton's popularity with African-Americans. Living many years at the bottom of America's harsh totem pole, blacks often have more to lose come election time. The promise of America has been to many blacks a cruel joke, and to use the words of Martin Luther King, Jr., many live on a "lonely island of poverty" amidst our "vast ocean of prosperity." In understanding the tendencies of blacks to vote Democratic, history cannot be discounted. Legislation most helpful to blacks -- namely the New Deal and civil rights bills -- was the project of the Democrats. For reasons not terribly difficult to discern, black voters seem to be practitioners of the "lesser of two evils" school. Molly Ivins put it well in a recent column: "the lesser of two evils does make a difference, especially to those of us on the margins of society. To put it inelegantly ... the sewage flows downhill, and those on the bottom are drowning in it. To those who are barely keeping their noses above the sewage, it makes all the difference in the world whether ... you pass an awful welfare reform bill or you pass an awful welfare reform bill with an especially nasty amendment by Phil Gramm attached to it."
While Clinton's moderate policies and folksy manner have gained him the approval of many black voters, Al Gore has tried to sustain the relationship that Clinton began. According to recent Washington Post-ABC News polls, Gore has the support of eight in ten black voters. And Gore's reception by the NAACP in Baltimore was consistent with those figures.
Gore strikes a different cadence in front of black audiences than he does to whites. At times, he looks comfortable, relaxed, at ease -- a far cry from his habitual rigidity. At other times, he looks like any other white guy trying to act black -- awkward, fake, and at worst, condescending. "I am home," Gore told the crowd of 3,000. He declared himself a member of the NAACP; he shook hands, gave high-fives, and shared hugs with those in the audience while striding to the podium amidst blaring background music. "Let's make the march that will take us to the mountaintop of progress and prosperity," he said, sampling a theme used in Jesus's sermon on the mount and more recently in King's "I've Been to the Mountaintop." Like Clinton, he quoted from the Bible and frequently looked as though he was trying to preach a sermon. He gathered steam and then reached his crescendo when he told a cheering crowd, "You ain’t seen nothing yet."
NAACP board member William Lucy gave Gore a glowing introduction. "Unlike a lot of people," Gore "has not just discovered the NAACP, has not just discovered the problems of poor people, African-American people and people of color," Lucy said. In contrast to Bush, Gore looked in tune with the preferences of black Americans; it was a setting he clearly relished, and a task at which he excelled. But how much of it is style over substance?
This seemed to be the question that Green Party candidate Ralph Nader posed the previous day. While Gore reminded NAACP members that black lawmakers would secure high positions if the Democrats could win this election, he shied away from issues on which he disagrees with most blacks -- like the death penalty. And while Lucy mentioned poverty in his introduction, Gore seemed to side-step the issue.
If Gore and Clinton have mastered the mannerisms to win over a black crowd, Ralph Nader's economic populism speaks to the important issues. It's no secret that blacks disproportionately bear the burden of poverty in America. And while all possess equal rights under the law, questions of power, privilege, and economics still lurk powerfully beneath the surface. Nader addressed a smaller audience, and concentrated on such questions of race and class. He cited a sharp rise in child poverty since 1980, calling it "a badge of shame for the richest country in the world."
While Al Gore and the Clintons attacked Bush's platform, their speeches were laden with platitudes. The first lady started things off on Tuesday, July 11, before Nader, with a spirited address that criticized Bush and his "compassionate conservatism." She pointed out that more than compassion is needed to achieve racial justice. "We need to move to conviction and action and change," Clinton said, bringing the crowd to its feet. But while the Clintons and even Gore exuded charisma, Nader seemed to be the only one paying more than lip-service to vital issues. Nader's crowd, like his speech, was subdued. But how was his message received? William Rhodes, a New York native who was in the audience, commented, "I agreed with 110 percent of everything Mr. Nader said. He would make a good president. But he's not going to get as many votes as the big boys and I don’t want to throw my vote away."
Therein lies the problem of Nader's candidacy. Even those to whom his message is most relevant are not sure whether to "throw away" their votes on him. That problem persists, however, only under two assumptions -- that Bush is much worse than Gore, and that a vote for Nader is trivial. Perhaps those in the "sewage" of America have been up to their ears in it for so long because the two-party system inhibits real change. And while a Bush administration may mean four more years of trouble, a Gore administration might usher in four more years of promises unfulfilled, conservatives masquerading in Democratic disguises, and increasing frustration.
The conundrum of the 2000 campaign nevertheless exists: For those with the most to lose, to those who need robust health care, social security, and child-care to survive, a vote for Nader may be too much to risk. It is painfully obvious that a vote for him could help elect Bush. So goes the logic, and it is difficult to disprove. But while Americans -- and especially the most marginalized of voters -- often vote their fears, every once in a while a small miracle might occur in the voting booth, and more than a few people vote their hopes. While the legitimate fear is that a vote against Gore will submerge those in America's "sewage" ever deeper, Nader represents the best hope of beginning the long ascent out of it.
Published: Aug 01 2000