A View from Chicago                                                              

There is no political aftermath,
only campaigns in Chicago

The mayoral race was over even before Roland Burris submitted his signatures to get on the April ballot

By MANUEL GALVAN

Spring broke early in Chicago. People started taking their time moving in the warmer weather. Trees were still bare and the grass was tan. The city's Northwest Side was a shade of grays and browns from the dust and sidewalk rubbish left behind when the shoveled snows melted. Driving down Kimball Avenue, I saw a lot of campaign posters that were now outdated and had become garbage. One-time aldermanic hopefuls had become political losers.

There were scores of "Mayor Daley '95" signs in frame house windows, two-flats and storefronts, and I wondered when they were going to take those down. Then I remembered. There was still a mayoral election in April. Mayor Richard M. Daley captured 66 percent of the vote in February, but it was only the Democratic primary. Now he faced several challengers, including the Republican nominee, Raymond Wardingley, a barber shop sweeper and a former part-time clown, and Roland Burris, former Illinois comptroller, former Illinois attorney general and former gubernatorial candidate, now running as an independent. There is no aftermath of politics in Chicago, only campaigns.

I did see one Burris sign, at the edge of Humboldt Park. But it was so small, I could only make out his name as I drove by. What it said didn't really make any difference. The race was over before Burris submitted his signatures to get on the ballot.

Mayoral independents don't make it in Chicago. Neither have Republicans, since William Hale "Big Bill" Thompson was elected in 1927. Many of the reasons for Daley's wins are associated with being a successful incumbent. He has a proven record of achievements, high name recognition, a good likability quotient, thousands of supporters and a war chest that congressional candidates envy.

But Daley's victories go way beyond the trappings of an elected official running for re-election. Where his father, Mayor Richard J. Daley, won with clout, the younger Daley has won with coalitions. Non-minorities and Hispanics have banded together to win elections and craft ordinances in the Chicago City Council. Gays and lesbians, lakefront liberals and bungalow belt conservatives keep casting their votes by the thousands for Daley, in return for his support of their interests. To non-minorities, he gave their neighborhoods stability. To liberals, he gave reform. To Hispanics, he cleared their path toward empowerment. To gays and lesbians, he lent an ear and gave a voice. To African Americans, he offered parity in treatment and ward services.

African Americans gave Daley 29 percent of their vote.

In the non-minority wards, Daley steamrolled his primary challenger, Joseph Gardner, 89 percent to 11 percent. Daley's biggest victory in this segment came from the Southwest Side 13th Ward with blocks and blocks of single-family, brick homes, whose residents gave the mayor 97 percent of their vote.

Even a significant number of African Americans sided with Daley, giving him 29 percent of their vote. In the West Side 27th ward, which includes the United Center, home to Michael Jordon and the Chicago Bulls, Daley earned a respectable 45 percent of the vote. Before the primary, African-American business leaders had held a major fundraiser for Daley. U.S. Sen. Carol Moseley-Braun (D-Ill.) gave him her endorsement. More than 100 African-American ministers gathered to support Daley. The message was that Daley had done "OK" by them. The signal to Burris was that even before his race technically started, he couldn't count on their support.

In Hispanic wards, Daley reaped 85 percent of the totals. Hispanics had many reasons to support Daley, not the least of

46/April 1995/Illinois Issues

which were his appointments of them. They included his chief of staff, the deputy mayor, the police superintendent, the fire commissioner and three other commissioners, who are all Hispanic. City Treasurer Miriam Santos was also an original Daley appointee. Although she had a falling out with Daley, the mayor did not endorse her opponent, Lawrence Bloom. Neither did voters, who favored Santos with 67 percent of their ballots. Daley's biggest Hispanic win came in the Southwest Side 12th Ward, which includes parts of Little Village, one of Chicago's largest Mexican-American neighborhoods. Voters there cast 93 percent of their ballots for the mayor.

In Hispanic wards, Daley reaped 85 percent of the totals.

Perhaps the biggest edge that Daley has is that he's always campaigning, not by shaking hands and kissing babies, but by improving the city and touching the lives of all its residents. His record includes millions of dollars in neighborhood works, safety programs and economic development. He has demonstrated sound fiscal management in running the city, like a cost-efficient business. Daley's dad used to say "good government is good politics." That hasn't changed in two decades since the late Mayor Daley occupied the fifth floor of City Hall. Like his dad, the younger Daley has grown to relish his role in the city's history.

A college friend, whose mom used to work for then-Cook County Board President George Dunne, ran into Daley recently in an elevator. The mayor was on his way to be interviewed by Luisa Torres, who hosts a Spanish-language radio show on WIND-AM. He was accompanied by a man and a woman. My friend smiled at Daley and said, "Your father traveled with a much bigger entourage." The mayor grinned at her broadly and said, "You know, cut-backs." *

Manuel Galvan is a Chicago writer and marketing consultant.