The fragmentation of black politics THE BROUHAHA over the failure of ERA in the Illinois House of Representatives last June exposed a situation in the black political community in Chicago that transcends the short-lived publicity the incident engendered. When five black Chicago state representatives sat silent, refusing to vote, their action reflected not their opposition to ERA, but rather the fragmentation of Chicago's black politicians. The five black legislators were ostensibly protesting the Chicago machine's decision to give an enhanced leadership role to Rep. James C. Taylor, but their action was really a surface manifestation of a deeper cleavage in Chicago's black political community. Until the death of Congressman William L. Dawson in 1970, at the age of 84, black politics in Chicago followed a fairly consistent pattern. Dawson operated his own "machine" on the South Side within the confines of the county-wide and citywide Democratic machine. Patronage, power, status and favors were tunneled through Dawson and his key lieutenants, a group of South Side black ward committeemen. In return, Dawson's organization delivered massive vote totals for Democratic candidates on all levels of the ticket, regardless of their race, color, political philosophy or position on public issues. As large areas of Chicago's West Side turned from white to black in the 1950's and 1960's, the South Side black vote was buttressed by a massive West Side black Democratic vote. But black politics on the West Side was different, since the black vote was controlled and delivered by white ward bosses such as Bernie Neistein and Izzy Horwitz in all-black wards such as the 29th and 24th, or John D'Arco, Vito Marzullo and Edward Quigley in wards such as the 1st, 25th and 27th, where blacks constituted a substantial percentage of the population. Several developments have significantly altered the character of black politics in Chicago. Dawson's death left a leadership vacuum in the South Side black political community which has not been filled. Dawson's monolithic power is fragmented among his key lieutenants: committeemen such as Commissioner of Human Services Cecil Partee and Congressman Ralph Metcalfe; politician/lawyers such as Alderman Wilson Frost and County Commissioner John Stroger, who represent middle-class black wards; tough, able professionals such as Jim Taylor who began his political career as a laborer on a garbage truck; younger, ambitious lawyers climbing the ladder such as Aldermen Tim Evans and Cliff Kelley; and a group of secondary level black committeemen and aldermen, most of whom are clearly not destined for leadership roles. On the West Side, black committeemen have been elected in the 24th, 28th and 29th wards. But they are relatively powerless vis-a-vis the old-line neighboring white committeemen such as D'Arco, Marzullo and Quigley, and are still tied to their former white tutors. In wards which are not black, but where blacks constitute a plurality, it is unlikely that the power of the entrenched incumbent white committeemen can be challenged by a black as yet. The fragmentation of the black political community in Chicago has been aggravated by a substantial movement of blacks to the North Side lakefront wards, where they are a minority of the population and wield little influence; by the rise of a fledgling black reform movement which has had occasional successes on the South and West sides; and by social and economic cleavages within the black community which have been mirrored in contemporary black politics. This political fragmentation of Chicago's black community has been reflected in the vote totals in Chicago's black wards. The South Side and West Side black wards, which once provided the votes to keep the Chicago machine in power during most of the Daley years. are all down significantly. And the white ethnic wards on the Southwest and Northwest sides, which once contributed least to the machine's victories, are now becoming the bedrock strength of the machine in the city. Since it is a truism of politics in Chicago that the perquisites of politics — jobs, money, power and status — are closely tied to the numbers of votes produced, the growth of black political power in the city is at a standstill and possibly on the verge of a decline. If a charismatic, effective black leader of Dawson's caliber was to appear on the scene and unify the black community politically, that pattern could be altered. Since, at this writing, no such figure looms on the horizon, the contemporary political status quo between blacks and white ethnics in Chicago is unlikely to change for the time being, and the crystal ball of the future of black politics in Chicago is still murky. One thing is certain, however, with regard to the future of black politics, not only in Chicago, but also in the Illinois General Assembly. Both the old patterns of plantation politics and the cliches of black civil rights activists and white liberals about contemporary and future black political realities and aspirations are probably irrelevant. In politics the rewards are usually not given to the righteous or the needy, but to those who play the game with skill and determination. It is not yet clear who they are in the black political community in Chicago and Illinois.
34/ September 1978/ Illinois Issues
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