Do black Americans still need black leaders?
opinionjournal.com
RACE IN AMERICA
Don't Replace Jesse Jackson Part of going mainstream is not seeking separate leadership.
BY JASON L. RILEY
Wednesday, April 18, 2001 12:01 a.m. EDT
A depressing, if familiar, scenario has played out in
Cincinnati over the past 10 days. An unarmed black
teenager, wanted by police for numerous misdemeanor
violations, was shot dead while trying to evade capture.
Black citizens made for the avenues to steal color
televisions in "protest." The media carefully avoided the
dread term "riot" to describe the situation, instead
employing less precise phrases like "violent protest" and
"racial unrest." What's missing (so far), however, is the
presence of America's premier black leader, Jesse Jackson.
And everyone knows why.
A sex scandal in January--involving the married minister,
his longtime mistress, their illegitimate child, his denial, a
DNA test, his admission, and subsequent payoffs--begot a
money scandal in March, involving nonprofit groups, crafty
accounting, corporate shakedowns, more denials and . . .
well, let's see what the warm weather brings.
Meanwhile, Mr. Jackson's public persona wallows in this
mess of his own making. Even the media, which he could
once count on to downplay everything from his racial
demagoguery to his repeated dealings with America's
dictatorial foes, seems reluctant to forgive him these
current trespasses. For now at least. True, in recent weeks,
newspapers spanning the continent have run withering
exposés, but the skepticism isn't likely to last.
For journalists, it's too tempting--because it's so easy--to
continue turning to one man to explain the thoughts and
feelings of the 34 million Americans who happen to share
his skin tone. This may explain, in part, why pundits are
most interested in speculating on Mr. Jackson's successor.
The speculation is not only premature--those who doubt
black America's willingness to close ranks have already
forgotten lessons imparted by O.J. Simpson--but also
off-target. Properly understood, the issue is not who will
replace Jesse Jackson but rather whether he needs
replacing. Does America, and black America particularly,
actually need a premier black leader?
Mr. Jackson is a product of the black church, as was Martin
Luther King Jr., his predecessor and mentor. In this modern
era, we've come to associate prominent black civil rights
leaders with the clergy, and the Rev. Al Sharpton, whom
many consider Mr. Jackson's heir apparent--and who has
made it clear he wants the job--is in this modern tradition.
But prior to Dr. King, other blacks of his standing--Frederick
Douglass, Booker T. Washington and W.E.B. Du Bois--were
not clergymen but orator, teacher and scholar, respectively.
That the modern-day movement for civil rights found a
leader in the church, however, is not surprising. Writing in
1903, Du Bois himself said, "The Negro church of today is
the social centre of Negro life in the Unites States, and the
most characteristic expression of African character."
Manning Marable, a professor of history and black studies
at Columbia University, has written that, during
segregation, "ministers occupied both spiritual and secular
roles." The black clergy's, he adds, was the primary and
most eloquent voice of the black community, especially in
periods of crises.
This is the culture that spawned Dr. King, who led a historic
crusade for equal rights that was fueled, necessarily, by the
same sense of morality and righteousness that imbued the
institution that produced him.
But that was then.
Stephan and Abigail Thernstrom write in "America in Black
and White" that in 1960, when many blacks were still living
under Jim Crow conditions, just 37% earned high school
degrees, 3% earned college degrees and 14% considered
themselves middle-class. By 1995, the figures for high
school and college graduates climbed to 86% and 13%,
respectively. And today, only one in four black Americans is
poor, an all-time low.
Since assuming Dr. King's mantle, Mr. Jackson has
proceeded with a sort of feigned obliviousness to the
successes of his predecessor, and of black Americans in
general. Race-specific problems for blacks remain, of
course: Prisons teem with young black males; illegitimacy
rates continue to alarm; and test scores for black students
still lag at all levels. But these aren't civil rights problems.
Teen pregnancy isn't "separate-but-equal." An inability to
read at the proper grade level isn't akin to being denied
suffrage. And Dade County in 2000 isn't Selma in 1963.
Black conservatives like Walter Williams have noted that
the misdiagnosing of many black pathologies as "civil
rights" problems has rendered their solution all the more
elusive. There was a time when black liberals, too, knew the
difference between black responsibility and white
oppression. In 1961, Dr. King told a congregation, "We
know that there are many things wrong in the white world,
but there are many things wrong in the black world, too. We
can't keep on blaming the white man. There are things we
must do for ourselves." Continuing with an example
reminiscent of Cincinnati, Dr. King said: "Do you know that
Negroes are 10 percent of the population of St. Louis and
are responsible for 58% of its crimes? We've got to face
that. And we've got to do something about our moral
standards."
Four decades hence, as the current investigations suggest,
Mr. Jackson has managed to turn Dr. King's civil rights
legacy into something resembling a racket. Partly, this is
because time and progress have obviated the need for a
premier black leader. Similarly, the role of the black church
has diminished not in importance but in scope. The church
remains the most viable institution in many black
communities and is best suited to address the needs of the
black underclass. President Bush's faith-based initiative
acknowledges this, as do the many black ministers around
the country who, excepting Mr. Jackson, overwhelmingly
support it, according to polls.
But blacks--and this is progress--no longer need look to
the church or anywhere else to produce the type of
leadership once exemplified by Dr. King. His intent, after all,
was to mainstream blacks, which is what has happened in
the past 40 years. Today, the worries and hopes of a large
majority of America's black population don't differ
significantly from those of their white counterparts. All want
good jobs, safe neighborhoods, homeownership, low taxes
and functioning schools for children they wish, one day, to
send to college. In this sense, blacks no more need a
race-specific national leader than do Americans of German,
Italian or Jewish descent.
If it is some combination of liberalness and laziness that
keeps the media from acknowledging this evolution, it is
pure self-preservation that keeps Mr. Jackson and those
who wish to succeed him from acknowledging it. The
inescapable conclusion is, to paraphrase Booker T.
Washington, that America's black leaders don't want blacks
to shake off their grievances. What was once a movement
has become an industry, and these shameless industrialists
fear for their jobs.
Mr. Riley is a senior editorial page writer at the Journal. |
