Harold Washington, Barack Obama and the hostile takover of the Democratic Party
February 23rd, 2008 at 11:51 am
washington2
Looking back over the past twenty years or so, it’s easy to draw parallels between Barack Obama’s history-making presidential campaign with that of another well-known African American politician: Harold Washington, the first black mayor of Chicago. Beyond sharing a political strategist–David Axelrod, who worked on Harold’s 1987 re-election campaign and now serves as Obama’s campaign manager—Washington, like Obama, called for the building of a new progressive coalition to effect change, astutely read the political zeitgeist better than his rivals and ran an effective, crusade-like campaign that captured the imagination of once-apathetic voters.
For many of us today, it’s tempting to view both campaigns primarily through the lens of race, and to see in Obama the same political courage to break down barriers Washington once displayed. However, peel away the media narrative and political shorthand that frames each campaign—once-obscure African America politician comes from nowhere to claim higher office—and another, hidden storyline emerges: In 2008, just like in 1983, Obama’s campaign represents nothing less than the hostile takeover of an established, once seemingly insurmountable Democratic political machine.
And, just like in Chicago in 1983, the 2008 presidential campaign is shaped in large part by one overriding political dynamic: Fierce, even irrational, efforts to stop the political tidal wave. The only difference is that instead of Washington, it’s Obama. And instead of a collection of ward heelers and party committeemen, it’s the political organization built by Bill and Hillary Clinton that currently controls the institutional Democratic Party that finds itself resisting the calls for change.
Beyond simply changing the skin color of the man who sat behind the desk in City Hall, Washington’s first mayoral campaign instead presented a wide swath of Chicagoans with a significantly more difficult problem: who to call when their cousin needed a job. Long built on patronage, the Chicago political “machine” created by the late Richard J. Daley relied on an established network of political insiders who wielded power by doling out favors and jobs to even the lowliest of political aspirants. Or even simple voters.
When expressed in political terms, this network maintained control by “slating,” or approving, anyone who ran for office under the all-powerful Democratic Party banner. At the street level, that meant those who wanted to run for office had to go first, hat in hand, to the network of politicians headed by Daley who would, in turn, decide whether to bestow the banner of a slated candidate on the office seeker. In reality, once given, this slating process practically guaranteed electoral victory. Without it, all hope was lost.
When he heeded the call of Chicago progressives who wanted to beat then-mayor Jane Byrne, Washington made his intentions to overthrow this established political order in Chicago explicit. For decades, the predominately black wards in the city were operated on a kind of plantation system, whereby the white power structure threw black politicians who were part of the system a token set of jobs and political offices in return for political support, while keeping the lion’s share for themselves. With Washington, however, that process was to be reversed. When he said, as he did on the campaign trail, that “No one in this city … is free from the fairness of this administration! We’ll find you and be fair to you, no matter where you are,” he was signaling that, in one way or another, African-Americans would soon have an equal or even greater chance as whites in getting jobs and political access. As a result, Washington ran into a firestorm of political and racial animosity, culminating in Bernard Epton, his white Republican opponent in the general election, adopting as his slogan “Epton for Mayor … Before It’s Too Late.”
Of course, the political infrastructure built by the Clintons over the past 15 years differs from Washington’s time in one crucial aspect: It’s hardly racist. In fact, beyond Bill Clinton’ public perception as the nation’s “first black president,” it can easily be argued that his term in office was one of the most successful administrations in American history when it came to civil rights. And, for her part, Hillary Clinton’s own efforts are equally impressive.
But that doesn’t mean that they don’t run a political machine that’s now in danger. They do. Only instead of an organization operated by northwest side Streets and Sanitation supervisors, Chicago Park District bosses or Cook County board presidents, it’s built on longtime friends, state lawmakers, civil rights leaders, and party insiders now acting as Democratic “superdelegates.” And ever since Bill Clinton began his tenure as the most powerful politician in the world, the couple have, there can be no doubt, worked assiduously to cultivate this network and the political power that comes with it.
But now comes Barack Obama. And, like Washington, his calls for change, especially when it comes to the old ways by which political power operates, are clear.
This reality poses a two-pronged challenge for Hillary and, by extension, Bill Clinton, whose legacy as a political operator hangs in the balance as well. The first, of course, comes from the likelihood that it will halt Hillary’s drive to be president. The second, however, is that an Obama victory will wipe the slate clean on the Clinton network, and the Clinton way of doing business.
It is the second possibility that, in the long run, represents the biggest sea change to the Democratic Party and the country. Much has been made in the press and elsewhere about Hillary’s perceived arrogance relating to her “inevitability” strategy and it’s expected primary triumph. Implicit in such a strategy, however, is access to and control over the very network now up for grabs. Should Obama, a relative political neophyte, become the party’s standard-bearer or, more importantly, the next Democratic president of the United States, the network of who to call and how to get “slated” in Democratic politics is certain to be blown up and recreated to a large extent. That means for the state representatives and county Democratic chairs and potential U.S. Senate candidates, access to the fund raising spigot and political support once centered on Bill and Hillary is likely to be diminished by a significant, if not fatal, degree.
Even more so, as Obama is now demonstrating, the Clinton method of winning elections—the “big state” strategy of winning states with strong Democratic Party networks—is right now under serious fire. Unfortunately, as many have pointed out, the institutional Democratic Party has a vested interest in conducting elections in this way, often resulting in catastrophic defeats. As Obama racks up primary and caucus win one after another, however, he also demonstrates, much like Harold Washington with his “rainbow coalition,” that running a campaign that stresses inclusion and transcendence packs a greater electoral wallop than implicit or explicit promises to party insiders.
And therein lies the rub for Hillary, Bill and their network of supporters—electoral and institutional. The entire game—not just the White House—is now up for grabs, and, as we will see over the next few weeks, the question becomes how hard they will fight for it, and at what cost. For the day that Barack Obama steps foot in the Oval Office is the day that the Clinton method and the network they built will have been proven outmoded and somewhat inept. And no set of entrenched interests—be they in Chicago, Washington, D.C., Chappaqua, N.Y. or the once familiar hallways of the White House—likes to be proven wrong. Or disposable.
Only this time, it won’t be only the lowly garbage-men, precinct captains and aldermanic candidates on Chicago’s West and South sides who could benefit come Election Day, 2008.
