Bloomberg View (Opinion)
By Francis Wilkinson
February 25, 2016
Hillary
Clinton and Bernie Sanders are running dueling ads on South Carolina's
hip-hop, R&B and gospel-themed radio stations, with each candidate
asserting a history of
commitment to black causes and black political power.
Clinton
has also campaigned in the company of five black women who lost
children to violence, including police violence. In addition to the
mother of Trayvon Martin, the
unarmed Florida teen who was pursued and killed by a gun-toting
volunteer neighborhood watchman, the Washington Post reported:
Clinton
was also joined by Geneva Reed-Veal, mother of Sandra Bland, who was
found hanged in her jail cell in Texas after a traffic stop last year;
Gwen Carr, mother of
Eric Garner, who died in a police chokehold in New York in 2014; Maria
Hamilton, mother of Dontre Hamilton, shot by a police officer in
Milwaukee in 2014; and Lucy McBath, mother of Jordan Davis, a Florida
teen shot in 2012 by a man who had complained about
loud music coming from the car the boy was riding in.
Campaigns
are structured to send messages. Candidate visits to the futuristic
factory, the struggling health clinic, the promising early childhood
learning center are
each designed to communicate what a person stands for and what she
alone would accomplish in office.
There
isn't much ambiguity about the message of Clinton's embrace of these
mothers: Black people are being unjustly targeted by police and society.
She's saying that she
shares their personal pain and public views and, as president, will act
to end the nightmare while leveling other playing fields as well.
Now
switch to Donald Trump. When NBC's Chuck Todd asked him in August
whether he considered police attacks on black men a "crisis," Trump gave
a spectacularly Trumpy reply.
"It's
a massive crisis," Trump said before slowly pulling the rug out from
under every word. "It's a double crisis. You know, I look at things, and
I see it on television.
And some horrible mistakes are made."
Trump
here seems to be ceding the point. "Horrible mistakes" sounds a lot
like "crisis," doesn't it? But it turns out to be a false lead. The real
problem is something
else, and the solution would surely leave most black voters
dumbfounded. "At the same time, we have to give power back to the police
because crime is rampant," Trump concluded. "And I'm a big person that
believes in very big -- you know, we need police."
The answer to police abuse of power, it turns out, is giving more power to the police.
In
a similar vein, Trump's most salient encounter with the Black Lives
Matter movement came in November, when he suggested that a protester who
was removed from a campaign
event "should have been roughed up."
Trump's
message is also unambiguous: He is a white nationalist. He's made this
clear before, in his attacks on immigrants in general and Mexicans and
Muslims in particular.
His campaign's implicit promise is to return white voters who, in their
own estimation, were responsible for making America great, to their
rightful place atop the social hierarchy. However, in the long and
vicious history of American racial conflict, one
group has always been the prime target of racial animus. It's not
Hispanics or Muslims.
Even
if Democrats in 2016 were not embracing black Americans and black
causes, it's doubtful that Trump's racial rhetoric would be walled in,
restricted to immigrants
and Muslims, as his campaign continues. Once taken for a spin around
the block, bigotry demands a tour of other neighborhoods.
There
is appetite for what Trump is selling. A February Public Policy Polling
survey of South Carolina found that Trump voters overwhelmingly
believed that the Confederate
flag should still be flying over the state capital. According to UCLA
political scientist Lynn Vavreck, data from a recent Economist/YouGov
national survey showed that almost 20 percent of Trump voters objected
to the "executive order" freeing slaves in the
South, aka the Emancipation Proclamation.
If
that sounds incredible, it may well be. The survey question followed
others about Obama's use of executive orders, so the conservative poll
respondents' judgment may
have been clouded by Obama hatred. Yet even if you're primed to express
raw animus, seizing an opportunity to oppose the emancipation of
American slaves exposes a frightening racial instinct.
Trump's
campaign is loudly, famously, "politically incorrect," which in this
context means it intentionally liberates racial animus from social
constraint. Meanwhile,
Democrats are embracing black Americans' narrative of racial oppression
-- arguably in the most explicit manner in presidential campaign
history. If Trump gains the nomination, the conflicting narratives of
white nationalists, championed by Trump, and black
Americans, championed by the Democratic candidates, seem destined to
clash -- quite possibly with a ferocity that American politics hasn't
seen in years.
Before
Obama, President George W. Bush had refrained from exploiting race for
political gain. Obama's White House was a celebration of achievement,
not oppression; it
worked to sublimate the racial tensions activated by his success.
Trump's emergence on the political stage has released the ugly
undercurrents and given them voice. They may get louder.
For more information, go to: www.beverlyhillsimmigrationlaw.com
No comments:
Post a Comment