Barack Obama: The Great Divider - Even if Obama cannot
solve America’s race problem, the power of the presidency ensures that he can
make it worse. So far, he has.
Had the Obama years turned out differently, the President’s recent remarks to the Congressional Black Caucus
might have been forgivable, or at least forgettable. “I will consider it a
personal insult, an insult to my legacy,” he informed, if the African-American
community “lets down its guard and fails to activate itself in this election.”
In the current state of race relations, however, President Obama’s comments,
whatever their impact on the November elections, are likely to aggravate them.
To appreciate the significance of Obama’s
remarks, it bears mentioning Obama’s path to the presidency. In the forty years
before Obama’s election, a succession of vice presidents and governors ascended
to the Oval Office only after decades of scrutiny in the public arena.
Obama was judged by a different standard. The journey from Columbia University
to Editor of the Harvard Law Review to an appointment on the
University of Chicago faculty is typically littered with scholarly
publications, clerkships, and other professional accolades. In Obama’s case,
the most conspicuous items on his resume were two autobiographies — both about
his racial identity — and an unremarkable stint in Illinois politics.
Yet it was on this basis that America
gambled on Obama. What reason was there to catapult an anonymous state senator
into the presidency within a span of four years?
Much of the rationale for Obama’s
candidacy mirrored the arguments frequently proffered for affirmative action
programs. The inclusion of minorities in our highest positions of power, we’re
often told, will produce racial progress once minorities see that they have a
place in American society, and once whites are persuaded that minorities can be
integrated on equal terms.
Enter Obama. After a string of failed
African-American candidates for President, Obama was the first who seemed to
have the right temperament and intuitions. He inspired minorities without
resorting to the crude racial politics of Jesse Jackson, Carol Moseley Braun
and Al Sharpton. Yet he also offered a critique of race relations that appealed
to white voters without the alienating conservatism of Alan Keyes.
It was Obama’s 2004 address to the
Democratic National Convention, in particular, that transformed him into a
genuine national figure. America was willing to tolerate the student councilish
platitudes in the speech, for they had finally found an African-American leader
committed to a benign vision of post-racialism. So enthralled were the American
people that they even overlooked the inspiration behind the speech — Reverend
Jeremiah Wright, Obama’s long-time former pastor. This was quite generous.
Obama, after all, had disavowed Wright not after his anti-American and
anti-Semitic sermons were leaked, but only after Wright’s incendiary interviews
in the middle of the campaign became a liability.
Hope prevailed that the era of divisive
racial politics were coming to an end. “Is Obama the End of Black Politics?” Matt Bai asked
in an August 2008 issue of The New York Times Magazine.
Although a member of the Congressional Black Caucus, Bai reported, Obama “never
felt he belonged.” The reason was that Obama was part of a new generation of
African-American politicians — “he simply wasn’t comfortable categorizing his
politics by race.” In light of Obama’s nomination, Bai ventured, black politics
“might now be disappearing into American politics in the same way that the
Irish and Italian machines long ago joined the political mainstream.”
In November 2008, Bai’s report seemed
prophetic. Never mind the feared “Bradley effect” – that voters would say one
thing to the pollster and do another in the privacy of the voting booth. Obama
outperformed John Kerry among the white vote, and, with overwhelming margins
among African-Americans and Hispanics, delivered a landslide victory. The
election of America’s “first black president” was celebrated as a sign that the
country was overcoming its race problem.
Eight years later, it’s clear that
precisely the opposite has happened.
Race relations have deteriorated to an
unenviable place. In a July 2016 poll, nearly 70 percent of
Americans agreed that race relations are generally bad – a level unseen since
the 1992 Rodney King riots. Partly, these sentiments are symptomatic of how
little the Obama administration ultimately did for African-Americans. It’s true
that Obama appointed African-Americans to prominent positions, but in this, he
was hardly different from his predecessors, Republican and Democrat alike. On a
more fundamental level, however, economic indicators actually suggest that
things have worsened under Obama, among them: the largest wealth gap between blacks and whites since
1989; record levels of black child poverty,
and widening racial gaps in college attainment.
Perhaps none other than Tavis Smiley summed it up best: black America got
“caught up in the symbolism of the Obama presidency,” but “in the era of Obama,
have lost ground in every major economic category.”
If the consequences of the Obama years
were contained to African-Americans, Obama’s self-reverential assessment of his
legacy would merely be out-of-touch. But his comments are particularly
troubling against the backdrop of the country’s growing racial polarization.
On the causes of and solutions to America’s racial divide, black and white
views are, to quote a recent Pew finding, "worlds apart." Seventy
percent of blacks believe that racial discrimination is a major reason why
blacks have a harder time getting ahead compared to just 36% of whites. Blacks
and whites are divided by a margin of over 40 percentage points on the question
of whether blacks are treated less fairly in the workplace and when applying
for loans and mortgages. And while 88 percent of blacks believe the change is
necessary to make equal rights a reality, just over half of whites feel the
same.
Why, in such a divided country, did Obama
choose to inject race, and in such a provocative way?
Perhaps Obama’s views have evolved over
the past decade. It’s worth noting that while only 30% of blacks today believe that the
Congressional Black Caucus has been very effective, Obama made
no mention of the group’s rather unimpressive standing. Judging by his recent
appearance, whatever discomfort he may have felt with the Congressional Black
Caucus as a Senator has apparently dissipated.
Either way, Obama, at the Congressional
Black Caucus, exploited the double standard he was supposed to end. He did so
because he understands that no matter how explicitly he appeals to black voters
on the basis of their alleged group interests, it would be unthinkable for his
Republican counterparts to play by the same rules. Republican candidates, Tea
Party activists, and Trump supporters, he knows, are routinely smeared for
alleged “dog whistles” far more subtle in their appeals.
If Obama’s goal is simply to elect Hillary
Clinton, his speech might deliver the African-American turnout she needs. With
Obama’s approval rating among African-Americans standing at 90%, vindicated are
those who argue that racial solidarity, more so than policy outcomes, drive
African-American political sentiments.
Regardless of the outcome in November,
though, Obama is playing with fire. It’s an open question whether America’s
shrinking white majority will continue to tolerate a double standard that
diminishes its grievances, but condones explicit racial appeals to
African-Americans. For how long will this patience last, when the Democratic
nominee taunts them as a "basket of deplorables"?
The 2016 elections are already showing
signs of discontent. Consider exit polls from the South Carolina Republican
primaries, the contest that has voted for the eventual nominee
in all but one cycle since 1980. Compared to those who voted for establishment
favorites Marco Rubio and John Kasich, Trump supporters regret, in retrospect,
the 1948 decision to desegregate the armed forces. And only 69% of Trump
backers take issue with the claim that whites are a superior race, compared to
about 90% of Kasich and Cruz supporters. The Trump phenomenon may not be
attributable to white backlash, but these polls are at least suggestive.
Events in the run-up to
Obama’s Congressional Black Caucus speech are also revealing. A week earlier,
three white nationalist leaders vowed to professionalize their movement at a press
conference at the Willard Hotel in Washington DC. That meeting
followed on the heels of a much-noted speech by Hillary Clinton condemning
the rise of racism in the conservative movement. Contrast this turn of events
with the mood on the eve of Obama’s election in 2008; the New York Times reported that
white supremacists were “paralyzed and at a crossroads in what would presumably
be a pressing moment of action.”
At the same time, even in the elite
universities that Obama once attended, there are signs of upheaval. Last week, The
Harvard Crimson published an editorial taking issue
with the university’s affirmative action policy. The editorial called for “more
nuance in affirmative action” and “greater scrutiny of Harvard’s admission
process” to address the costs of black preferences on higher-scoring applicants
of other races. At least in this respect, the views of the Crimson
editors are in line with white Americans, less than four percent of whom believe
that race/ethnicity should be considered major factors in the college
admissions process. The Harvard editorial follows a controversy at the
University of Chicago, where the Dean of Students, in a letter to incoming students, denounced
“safe spaces” and “trigger warnings” as an unreasonable accommodation of
minority sensitivities.
Perhaps the expectations placed on Obama were unreasonable at the outset. But
even if Obama cannot solve America’s race problem, the power of the presidency
ensures that he can make it worse. So far, he has.
Pratik Chougule serves as Managing Editor
of The National Interest.
No comments:
Post a Comment