CPT • Change is Coming to Ohio's iconic 11th Congressional District — Part II

Cuyahoga Politics Today 

The 11th Congressional District is endangered as a fount of black power — Part II

Hollowed out central city, state’s slow population growth, along with altered political culture, are diminishing black community’s grasp on former stronghold

By R. T. Andrews

The Cleveland Browns were synonymous with excellence almost from the very moment they burst onto the pro football scene in 1946. From the beginning the team was exceptional, so routinely dominant as to play for a league championship ten consecutive years.

In eastside neighborhoods like Glenville, where future NFL Hall of Famers like Marion Motley and Bill Willis lived unpretentiously alongside their neighbors in the city’s ghettos, the Browns were beloved, a source of pride. The team became such a part of the town’s fabric that even when they sank into competitive irrelevance — their lakefront  home relabeled as the Factory of Sadness, it was inconceivable to think of our town without them.

Then one day they were gone, leaving only the team colors and faded scrapbooks featuring such team legends as Jim Brown, Leroy Kelly, and Paul Warfield. [On the west side of town, the revered names were undoubtedly Lou Groza, Otto Graham, Dante Lavelli and Dub Jones.] Under team owner Art Modell, they made bad decisions, suffered financial reversals, mortgaged the future on bad short term bets, and proved themselves thoroughly inept at making the organizational and management changes required for success in the constantly evolving world of the NFL.

While the city got a new team three years later, the new Browns are only now  escaping the shadows of institutional incompetence that have dogged their rebirth.

Don’t look now, but a deft redrawing of political boundaries by Ohio’s rightwing General Assembly could mean that a Congressional District that once seemed institutionalized as the bedrock of black Cleveland politics could vanish after a half-century run as swiftly as those Browns did 25 years ago.

Ohio's 11th Congressional District

Dismal turnout by black Cleveland voters in recent elections will make it harder for a black candidate, especially one without the benefit of incumbency, to win either a primary or a general election campaign for the seat. 

Cleveland’s black community — the place that gave the country its first elected big-city black mayor; the home base of a co-founder of the Congressional Black Caucus; the birthplace of the Twenty-First District Caucus, once so powerful as to show urban Democratic political machines that there was a drastic price to pay for disrespecting the black community — could lose its grip on a Congressional seat?

Yes.

Consider the following:

• When the District was drawn in 1968 to comply with Constitutional principles, the vast majority of Cuyahoga County’s black residents were crammed into a handful of neighborhoods: Central, Hough, Glenville, Fairfax, Mt. Pleasant, and Lee-Harvard. All of the first ring suburbs that today have significant black populations and are part of the Congressional District — Euclid, Maple Heights, Cleveland Heights, Shaker Heights, Bedford Heights, Richmond Heights, South Euclid, Garfield Heights, to name a few — were hostile to integration; collectively, they had less than five percent of the county’s black residents.

This concentrated black voting power was what the Ohio General Assembly kept a lid on through racial gerrymandering, until federal litigation and legislation — Baker v. Carr, the “one man, one vote” case decided in 1962; the Voting Rights Act of 1965 — helped lay the groundwork whereby an impressive cadre of local black attorneys and some staunch white allies, finally secured citizenship rights supposedly guaranteed one hundred years earlier by the Civil War Amendments. 

• Today, most county municipalities are at least nominally integrated, as are most of Cleveland’s west side wards. Black outmigration from the central city has seen substantial numbers of black families move across county lines, establishing homes in communities as varied as Streetsboro, Macedonia, Willowick, and Hudson.

The decennial redistricting that follows the Census every ten years is impacted by these migration patterns. Indeed, the current “Cleveland” district represented by Marcia Fudge snakes a narrow path down to north Akron to pick up several neighborhoods of black residents to pack into the 11^th District. That was a Faustian bargain struck at George Forbes’ house with then-Speaker of the Ohio House William Batchelder that benefitted both Republicans and the black Democratic establishment.

In several of her relatively rare public appearances in the district over the past few years, Fudge has referenced the dwindling margins of her majority minority district, pegging the percentage of black voters in the district somewhere around 50.5%. (We always found such hyper-parsing of her constituency curious: it made us wonder how it influenced her constituent relationship management, how she viewed her ability to win the support of nonblack constituents, etc.)

• In recent decades, Ohio has ranked among the nation’s ten worst states when it comes to Congressional district gerrymandering. In May of last year, voters overwhelmingly passed Issue 1, a compromise measure designed to limit the grossest excesses of gerrymandering. It is unclear how that will play out in the upcoming line drawing. The estimable Dr. Larry Brisker, the Tri-C professor whose analytical skills informed redistricting negotiations in ways that looked out for the black community’s political interests, has gone on to higher reward. Who is capable of assuming that role? 

• The willingness of the black state legislators to play footsie with their GOP legislative overseers a decade ago and create a second district more or less tailor-made for a black candidate — Joyce Beatty’s Third District seat in Franklin County —  could affect the State’s need to maintain the protected status of the venerable 11^th. Ohio’s 11-12% black population may warrant one majority minority district out of its soon-to-be 15 seat allocation; Beatty’s district may lessen the obligation of legislators to preserve a second such district. 

Are Ohio’s black and Democratic legislators willing to lay it on the line to preserve the 11^th District? The answer is not a clear yes, even before considering that House Minority Leader Emilia Sykes, a rising star, is likely maneuvering to support drawing a district that could be conducive to her own healthy ambition for a Congressional seat.

• And most significantly, dismal turnout by black Cleveland voters in recent elections will make it harder for a black candidate, especially one without the benefit of incumbency, to win either a primary or a general election campaign for the seat. Some informed estimates suggest that Cleveland’s 52% Census response rate means its city council will be reduced by at least six, and perhaps eight, wards. This will translate into fewer black elected officials than the already too aloof ones who populate public office now. This is not a recipe for enhanced civic engagement.

A few days ago, cleveland.com published a piece by retired political writer Brent Larkin that purported to list a half dozen likely aspirants to succeed Fudge. We saw it as a disservice to the black community. Too many of the names are retreads from an era of black politicians who never grasped the idea of elected officials as public servants.

Over the past few weeks, we have had numerous chats with community members regarding the District’s future, and sought suggestions of people who, blessed with a future outlook, could help guide the district into a new era of politics while echoing the best of our past. We will share those names  in the final installment of this series. But next, Part III will invite reflection on what qualities we would like to see in our next Congressperson? What should be the job description? 

Meanwhile, we invite you to share your thoughts on these questions, and to suggest names of potential candidates, whether they have previously run for public office or not. If you wish to share your suggestions in the comments, please use your real name. If you prefer to remain anonymous, email me directly. [It won’t be helpful to have Bill Neverwas anonymously float the name of Bill Neverwas.]

• • •• • •

CPT: Cuyahoga Politics Today: Jeff Johnson and Dan Gilbert

Jeff Johnson and Dan Gilbert: Peas in the same pod?

CLEVELAND — Roldo Bartimole, who even in his senior senior status remains by virtue of his long institutional memory and his ability to follow the money the scrivener scourge of the local ruling class, recently revisited some of Cleveland's sordid political history. It was an effort to provide context to Brent Larkin's weird column last week. Larkin expressed a false empathy for the struggles of Councilman Jeff Johnson to distance himself from his extortion conviction nearly 20 years ago. But halfway through the piece he abruptly switched to his true topic, a direct assault upon the SEIU and the Greater Cleveland Congregations.

SEIU and GCC just happen to be the leading voices in the ongoing struggle to achieve justice and equity for this city's poor and largely minority residents.

Nobody stands in opposition to the desires of our local oligarchy to recreate our shrunken city into a hip burg with cool eateries, a bustling downtown, a high tech vibe, an immigrant magnet, and world-class entertainment venues.

But some of us do look around and see people working two and three jobs trying to make ends meet, amidst Third World infant mortality, thousands of vacant and abandoned structures, a malnourished public transportation system, public schools under relentless attack from private profiteers, real job opportunities separated by insurmountable barriers to entry, and a police force infected with a rogue and reckless deadly virus that has been out of control for generations.

All that makes some of us wonder whether Clevelanders should pay to transform an arena far newer than just about all of our shelters.

We need to have real change in our community, not just the ‘transformation’ of a serviceable public building. When will we stop rearranging and painting the deck chairs and have a real conversation?

• • •

A sit-down I had yesterday with an aspiring young office seeker has surprisingly led me to have some sympathy for Cavs' owner Dan Gilbert. With the light afforded by Roldo's column, I can now appreciate how Mr. Gilbert could have come to town and, after observing how the elites here operate, said to himself, “I can excel at this game.”

He was right! We soon gave him two casinos for life, in our hunger and low self-esteem excusing his promise to build a fabulous new casino on our crooked river.  We bestowed adulation upon him when he first dissed our home boy LeBron for taking his talents elsewhere and then later embraced the return of that enhanced talent in a way that further filled the Quicken coffers.

Given that sort of uncritical and generous treatment, along with the renewal of our regressive sin tax for his sports fraternity, why wouldn't he think that we would happily fork over another $282 million or so just to keep him around another seven years?

GCC and its burgeoning alliance are saying "Let's slow down. Let's be equitable. Let's talk about this."

Whoever advised Gilbert not to have that conversation should be put on irrevocable waivers.

Dan Gilbert has the clout to convene, directly or otherwise, the dialogue of community powers responsible for creating the ecology he so comfortably slid into. He cannot be pleased that GCC and others are raising a ruckus, but he would be wrong to blame them for giving voice to the voiceless. His upset should be directed to his peer group and their political intermediaries, who clearly were caught unawares that even gravy trains have cabooses.

 

Unless there is a community dialogue that can forge a new and true community partnership, proponents of the ‘Q Transformation’ will likely hear their plan end with a Referendum Serenade that is familiar to basketball fans everywhere: "Na Na Na Na, Na Na Na Na, Hey, Hey, Hey! Goo-ood Bye!”

Not the best theme song for the Rock and Roll Capital of the World!

• • •

P. S. Tonight in Boston, game 1 of the Eastern Conference Finals! GO CAVS!!!

Black Political Leadership in Cleveland and Civil Rights, Part I

The trio of deaths we noted here last week continue to trigger a number of thoughts. Unsurprisingly, most of the media coverage has centered on Steve Jobs, a contemporary whose impact was obvious and whose accomplishments were tangible: millions of us are daily users of the products he envisioned and developed.

Still, for other millions, the accelerating passage of senior civil rights leaders is cause for pause on how American public and private lives were changed by the service and sacrifice those leaders rendered our nation.

It’s not important to compare whose impact mattered more. But last week’s passing of Rev. Fred Shuttlesworth and attorney Derrick Bell does underscore two separate but related topics that have been on the northeast Ohio horizon this month: civil rights and black leadership.

Two days ago, Plain Dealer columnist Brent Larkin penned one of his patented “insider” columns purporting to show that a trio of old black men — Lou Stokes, George Forbes, and Arnold Pinkney — still run black politics in Cleveland.

The piece repulsed the senses on so many levels that it is difficult to know how to begin to dismantle its nasty influence. Larkin argued that the men who were the go-to guys in the black political community forty years ago are still the same go-to guys today. But the column omitted salient details and provided no context to those who don't have a thorough understanding of Cleveland political history.

It is misleading to write about Cleveland’s black community and its alleged rigid and unyielding political structure without ever noting their place in the larger community’s hierarchical rigidity. The history of twentieth century Cleveland is the history of a top-down community run by an interlocking directorate of corporate bosses and white-shoe lawyers who worked hand-in-glove with whatever ethnic politicians happened to be in charge. Then and now, a principal responsibility of the Plain Dealer was to support this closed circle of dominance and control.

Column Intermission: A few years ago I attended an annual meeting of The Roundtable, one of a string of establishment organizations ostensibly designed to promote noteworthy civic objectives like economic inclusion, corporate diversity and the like. [1] On stage were three key figures: Danny Williams, the group’s president; Jane Campbell, the city’s mayor, and uber-lawyer and grey eminence Dick Pogue. The mayor had just cracked one of her characteristically bad jokes, attempting to make light of Pogue’s longevity at the seat of power; when Pogue ad-libbed aloud to the effect that he was still running the show, Campbell quickly beat a sheepish retreat. In Cleveland, the dominance of commercial interests over public welfare has been virtually unending. 

But this is America, so when color enters the picture, stuff happens. People lose their critical faculties. They pontificate about politics in the black community as if all black folks were still stuffed in eastside ghettos. They make no mention of the fact that there are more than 80 elected black officials in Greater Cleveland, most of whom live outside the city limits where new and in some cases more sophisticated manifestations of black power are developing. Most of these 80 elected officials seldom if ever consult with Stokes, Forbes or Pinkney.

The day is long gone when a small group of black politicians could say they spoke for the black community. In fact, it is debatable whether a solidly black electorate even exists, and whether that is a good or bad thing either way. But that’s grist for another mill.

Consider this about current black leadership: the black political establishment did march almost in lockstep in opposition to Issue 6 in 2009. Their counsel was overwhelmingly rejected in every ward and jurisdiction with one exception: Ward 1, the political base of state senator Nina Turner. She was a flag-bearer for Issue 6. But Issue 6 lost in Ward 1. This means that black leadership counsel was universally rejected on the most important local issue in 40 years.

That Stokes, Forbes and Pinkney remain active so active in local political discussion is largely due to indolence, inertia, and lack of imagination. Pundits such as Larkin, public officials like Speaker Batchelder call upon Forbes and Pinkney because they always have. Their primary concern is to not be accused of failing to check in with the black community. Forbes and Pinkney profit from the fiction of their continued political ascendancy.

The world has changed. The county has changed. The black community, however defined, has changed. The model of black political leadership that the Plain Dealer and perpetuates is obsolete and does a disservice to us all.  It has been withering for decades. Tomorrow I will describe its disintegration.

• • •

---

[1] A predecessor group was called BICCA [Businessmen’s Interracial Committee on Community Affairs]; the current incarnation is the Commission on Economic Inclusion housed at the Greater Cleveland Partnership.