A Sense of Betrayal
For all the debate over the focus of the Clinton Foundation, some African-American observers in Harlem said that Mr. Clinton’s popularity among blacks has always been based as much on an emotional connection as on specific policies.
“For those of us longing to be a part of the American family, Bill Clinton opened his arms and embraced us,” said Geoffrey Canada, president and chief executive officer of the Harlem Children’s Zone, a nonprofit group. “We wanted to be embraced, and we had never had that experience of a president saying to the African-American community: ‘You all are terrific. You all are my partners.’ ”
Perhaps as a result of this perceived bond, many black Harlemites responded to Mr. Clinton’s behavior during his wife’s presidential campaign almost as if they had been betrayed by a relative. As Mr. Edwards of the Harlem Business Alliance put it, “If you adopt a child, and you raise and you feed that child, and then that child does something to hurt you, something disrespectful to you, you’re going to be more hurt than if a child you never knew came and did the same thing.”
The first major blow to Mr. Clinton’s relationship with Harlem came in early January, while he was campaigning for his wife in New Hampshire. “Give me a break,” Mr. Clinton said in charging that Mr. Obama had misrepresented his own position on the Iraq war. “This whole thing is the biggest fairy tale I’ve ever seen.”
Mr. Clinton later asserted that his comment referred to Mr. Obama’s stance on the war, not his candidacy. But in Harlem, many blacks interpreted the term to mean that the notion of a black man becoming president was a fantasy.
“Bill is a hypocrite, and this primary brought the true character of Bill out,” said Frank Josh, the Nigerian-American owner of Harlem Beauty Supply, down the block from the foundation’s office. Over the rap music thumping from the gift shop next door, Mr. Josh added that although he had voted for Mr. Clinton twice, the “fairy tale” comment made him feel less welcome as an American.
At the Dollar Internet Cafe near 144th Street, where a YouTube video of Mr. Clinton’s comments was shown to customers by the proprietor, most responded with anger. But this reaction was not universal.
“I don’t know why blacks are upset with Clinton,” said Hakim Rashid, a 60-year-old African-American, as he waited for a bus near a boarded-up building on 125th Street and Fifth Avenue. “He put more blacks in positions of power than all the other presidents combined.” Mr. Rashid noted that Mr. Clinton had appointed more than 60 black federal judges, adding, “I say, look at what a person does and not what he says.”
On Jan. 26, the day of the South Carolina primary, Mr. Clinton compared Mr. Obama’s strength in that state’s primary, which Mr. Obama won, to Jesse Jackson’s two victories in the state’s nominating contests in the 1980s, a comment many blacks in Harlem and elsewhere found even more offensive.
“It’s demeaning: It suggests the only reason Obama got there was his skin color,” said Derrick Guest, a 35-year-old African-American video producer. The general response to Mr. Clinton, Mr. Guest added, was: “You’re part of the family. We bring you in, and then when we turn around, you kind of knifed us in the back.”
In an interview on CNN in March, Mr. Clinton called the suggestion that he had played racial politics in South Carolina a “myth and a mugging.” In a radio interview in April, he sharpened his defense of his South Carolina remarks, saying of the Obama campaign, “I think that they played the race card on me.” And he added, “You got to really go some to play the race card with me — my office is in Harlem.”
But the Clinton luster was already badly tarnished in Harlem, and by the time Mrs. Clinton told USA Today in May that Mr. Obama’s support was weakening among “hard-working Americans, white Americans,” the street stalls around the former president’s office had been wreathed with Obama T-shirts for months.
Several Harlem community leaders and business people said that the wounds could be healed if Mr. Clinton campaigned vigorously for Mr. Obama or offered an overture or apology to the neighborhood. “He needs to say: ‘I bumped my head here; pass the ribs,’ ” suggested Ms. Sims, the cafe owner.
Others said they thought no apology was necessary.
“The punishment fit the crime,” said Mr. Canada of the Harlem Children’s Zone, a group at whose building Mr. Clinton has made three appearances. “To have African-Americans angry and question his loyalty to us and our cause, I know he has suffered through this.”
Mr. Clinton paid a price, Mr. Canada concluded, “and I think it’s time to move to the next level of healing.” |
