The summer of 1990 was not a good one for Washington, DC politics. The foremost factor, of course, was the cocaine possession and perjury trial of Mayor Marion Barry.
The media loved this show. It had sex, drugs, power, and politics. But it left the hotly contested campaigns for mayor, city council, and the non-voting congressional delegate in the background until it was too late to discuss the issues, which are real life-and-death matters in the District currently. Instead it's been a "personality parade" summer.
The Barry trial has meant that a substantial changing of the guard is in the offing. But it's a mercenary army that is forming. The post-civil rights leadership, for whom the battle was viewed from the sidelines, is often more interested in personal power than in social transformation.
Even the current administration, embattled by court cases and media scrutiny, with its roots in the civil rights era, seems to be more involved in saving its own neck than in providing healing. Noted civil rights leader Roger Wilkins calls this "empowerment by victimization."
By drawing on the common African-American experience of racism, Marion Barry has made the issue of his cocaine involvement into a case about the harassment of black elected officials. As he often pointed out, more than 50 elected black leaders are under indictment or investigation by the federal government. Most of these cases as they have progressed have been dropped due to insufficient evidence.
But Barry, ever the clever manipulator of racial guilt, fear, tension, and anger, has used the realities of racism to hide his own misdeeds, which include near-total disregard for the poor black population of DC. Just as he pushed guilty whites to support him overwhelmingly in his first run for mayor, now he's using the excuse of a racist system to catch him on his downward fall.
Susan Anderson, a political consultant and journalist, wrote recently for New Politics, "The presence of mayors has proscribed dissent -- or even the demand for accountability -- among large black populations through an implacable sense of race solidarity. They have been able to manipulate the black poor through the rhetoric and symbolism of black power while accommodating the middle classes with affirmative action in city hall and portions of major government contracts."
The result of this lack of accountability takes its toll on the residents and politicians eventually. According to Anderson, "The vulnerability of black politicians to the crimes and misdemeanors of the establishment may provide an opportunity for the black movement to develop new insights in preparation for its next stage. The fall of prominent black politicians helps demystify black power. In their rise to office, black power politicians, exploiting the themes of the civil rights movement, made moral demands upon the country, but with few exceptions they set no such moral standards for themselves."
But a rich history exists that demonstrates the effects of racism and its loathsome ramifications on African-American leaders in this country. "Most of us who have risen to where we are have had to walk a straighter and narrower path," pre-eminent historian John Hope Franklin told Sojourners. "We learned early on that someone is always watching you, so we developed strength of character, which we then contributed. But we knew the only way to win was to beat them at their own game."
Franklin recounts the story of a black Revolutionary War participant who was denied the right to vote. He pointed out to the newly elected government that, since he owned a fleet of ships and was required to pay taxes on it, he was a victim of taxation without representation. His observation gained him time in a jail cell. In a land that claims high ideals, pointing to the ideals and demanding inclusion has been the only option for African Americans.
This experience has given the locked-out a sense of moral authority, according to Franklin. "We developed a hard-won sense of right and wrong. Fighting racism constantly has given us resolve and insight." And one of the main insights, according to Franklin, is that there can be no excuses of ignorance from black people because racism is a known reality. It must be assumed.
THE CHURCH COMMUNITY IN DC has been less clear on this topic, unfortunately. During the Barry trial, daily press conferences were held in a prayer tent at the District Court House, where ministers gathered to decry the racist antics of the government prosecution. And many of these were easily demonstrable. The 30 or so pastors involved in this activity formed a group called Ministers in Action for the '90s and aced press calls at Barry's campaign headquarters. Obviously, for them moral authority and personal behavior are unrelated -- a perspective beyond that of accepting the sinner and not the sin. They were making a public relations ploy that rivaled the prosecution's Vista Hotel sting.
But, although several prominent pastors were involved, others were notably absent. Many who did not want to be affiliated with the prayer tent made public a very different statement, giving their reasons for maintaining a prophetic distance from the fray.
"At issue here is a crisis of integrity," the statement reads. "This crisis is the parent of Watergate, Irangate, pulpit disgrace, the S&L scandal, and Wall Street theft. Widespread reports of private moral compromise by public leaders at all levels of government have knocked the breath out of the public's trust. It is the meaning of integrity that deserves more intensive reflection."
Then, after condemning both the government's motivation for endless racist attacks on Barry personally, and by implication on all black elected officials, the statement continues, "No nation, family, society, or religion can long endure where honesty, trust, and integrity are conveniently reduced in importance to make way for our misguided pleasures. Sin is still sin. Neither politics nor circumstances can change this fact.
"You and we, the members of a public jury, not the jury of the United States District Court, must decide whether we as the people of this metropolitan area will love or hate, be one or divided, hold integrity and family life sacred or consign such values to history's junk yard. Let us choose wisely."
And recent events point to the slippery slope toward increasing division. One pastor, Rev. Willie Wilson, who was very high-profile in his presence at Barry's prayer tent, recently changed his endorsement for mayor to support front-runner John Ray, who is bought and paid for by DC's Board of Trade.
But things are no simpler for the more prophetic group. In order to spread their healing message more widely, this group has joined in coalition with several organizations, including the Board of Trade. I am left hoping that these pastors are wise as serpents in the real estate industry's presence, because if they are gentle as doves they will be lambs for the slaughter.
Bob Hulteen was Under Review editor of Sojourners when this article appeared.
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