Sunday, September 18, 2005

Will suburb bashing work for Kilpatrick?

By Joel Kurth and Judy Lin / The Detroit News

Detroit vs. suburbs Through the years, race and tensions between Detroit and the suburbs have been a part of politics. 1948 Dearborn Mayor Orville L. Hubbard on Election Day ordered city employees to distribute leaflets that read, "Keep Negroes Out of Dearborn. Protect your Home and Mine!" 1974 Young Coleman A. Young, Detroit's first black mayor, warned criminals: "It's time to leave Detroit; hit Eight Mile Road!" 1974 Patterson L. Brooks Patterson, then the Oakland County prosecutor, said he was cracking down on Detroiters bringing guns into the county so "we won't later see Oakland County turned into an armed camp." 1989 Young called black challenger Tom Barrow an "Uncle Tom" and accused him of being a puppet for the whites in the suburbs. 1992 State Sen. Gilbert DiNello, a Democrat whose suburban district includes East Detroit, a town that renamed itself Eastpointe to erase any connection with ailing Detroit, said: "We can slice off Detroit and let it fall into the Detroit River." 1993 McPhail When Sharon McPhail campaigned against Dennis Archer for Detroit mayor, she suggested that he was a tool of white, suburban interests and called him everything from a "sellout" to an "Uncle Tom." The Rev. Charles Adams, a McPhail supporter, characterized Archer as a mayor "who will shuffle when he's not going anywhere, scratch when he's not itching and grin when he's not tickled." 2005 Last month, the Central Region Black Slate Committee, a black political group, issued a rallying call for Detroit Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick's supporters. In a letter circulated by e-mail, it described challenger Freman Hendrix and former Mayor Dennis Archer as part of "the Republican, anti-Black-empowerment, Uncle Tom" establishment. Sources: Zena Simmons, Detroit News files, "Detroit: City of Race and Class Violence" by B.J. Widick. Error processing SSI file Mayoral mudslinging In light of the nastiness that emerged in Thursday’s mayoral debate, which candidate looks better to you? Kwame Kilpatrick Freman Hendrix Get results and comments Comment on this story Send this story to a friend Get Home Delivery

As they have been for 40 years, the politics of division -- us versus them, city versus suburbs, black versus white -- are once again front and center in Detroit's mayoral race.

Down in the polls, Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick sparked a controversy during last week's debate with challenger Freman Hendrix by claiming use of some drugs is more prevalent in Birmingham and Bloomfield Hills schools than in Detroit.

Suburban leaders and editorial writers howled. Political observers called it a desperate act. Tellingly, though, those making the most noise about Kilpatrick's remarks aren't eligible to vote in the election. And experts said Kilpatrick undoubtedly made the remarks quite deliberately -- as a main point of his re-election strategy -- to appeal to those who will cast votes in the city Nov. 8.

"The mayor could care less about what people outside of Detroit think about him now," said pollster Steve Mitchell of Mitchell Research in East Lansing, who conducted polls for Kilpatrick before Detroit's August primary election. "The reason this is always an issue is because it works. There's a natural animosity.

"As much as everyone wants to downplay racism, it exists. There's a great mistrust among some African-Americans of white people."

It's a touchy issue. To some, such as longtime political observer Mario Morrow, Kilpatrick spoke in well-known code words to inflame resentments and remind voters of Hendrix's suburban support. A Detroit News poll in July found that 80 percent of suburban voters disapproved of Kilpatrick's performance.

To others, the flap speaks more about the media and suburbs than Kilpatrick.

"He wasn't bemoaning anyone, he was telling it real," said Keith D. Williams, D-Detroit, a Wayne County commissioner. "Detroit is always pitted as us versus them, but that's a characterization of the media. All the mayor was saying is that Detroit isn't so bad, and we as a region have to look at our problems. How is that divisive?"

A suburb-bashing strategy carries risks, though. Attack the suburbs too hard, and candidates alienate donors, many of whom are from the suburbs.

"You always have to be mindful of that, but bashing the suburbs is nothing more than a negative campaign tactic," said Stephen Serkaian, a Lansing political consultant who advised City Councilwoman Sharon McPhail on her bid for mayor this summer. "The bottom line is winning, and these are proven tactics."

Pitting the city against the suburbs existed before Coleman Young became mayor in 1973. He made it an art form, famously telling criminals to "hit Eight Mile" and carrying on a long war of words with L. Brooks Patterson, Oakland County's prosecutor before becoming executive in 1992.

Since then, it's either blatantly or subtly been a fixture of elections -- most notably in 1993, when McPhail called Dennis Archer a "sellout" and tool of the suburbs. An underdog, McPhail won a majority of black voters, but still lost the election.

"Pure and simple: A lot of black folks feel, rightfully so, that people who don't sleep in Detroit want to control Detroit," said Sam Riddle, a political consultant in Michigan, Denver and Virginia.

"Race is always lurking in the background. In every Detroit mayoral campaign, white folks always have their candidate, and that's not always the blacks' choice."

Dividing voters and fanning resentments are gambits as old as any in American politics, but Morrow said picking fights with the suburbs is becoming less effective in Detroit.

Kilpatrick uses loaded language -- such as billboards proclaiming him "Our Mayor" -- that make it clear he's not indebted to the suburbs, Morrow said.

"If Kwame Kilpatrick was up 15 percent in the polls, the issue would never come up," said Morrow, a former political consultant who is superintendent of Albion Public Schools.

"It's not a black versus white world anymore. Most realize that, but this is a way for him to throw out an emotional issue that might get him some mileage with undecided voters."

The controversy allows Kilpatrick to score points with some voters by fighting with Patterson, who blasted the mayor's remarks on the radio and at a press conference Friday.

To many in Detroit, Patterson is still known as the lawyer for a group that fought the desegregation of Pontiac schools in the 1970s.

Robert Price, a 41-year-old factory worker from Detroit, said Patterson and other suburban politicians "get upset because they can't stand that a black person is putting them down. They're elitist."

Still, Price said his support of Hendrix hasn't wavered.

Kilpatrick supporter Laraine Bass said she recognized the mayor's remarks about suburban drug use as a campaign strategy, but called them divisive.

"We've all got problems," said Bass, 64, a lifetime Detroiter. "I don't think anyone is above throwing stones at anyone else."

Michael Whitty, a University of Detroit Mercy professor who calls himself "Dr. Detroit," said the city's history is forever linked to race, class and sprawl. For that reason, race and the suburbs are always an issue, but Whitty said Detroit's racial politics are no worse than they are in some other big cities.

"The fact that Kwame played the race card at the 11th hour isn't news that needs to be on the front page," said Whitty. "It's a Hail Mary pass that goes with the turf. It's retail politics. You throw in everything but the kitchen sink."

You can reach Joel Kurth at (313) 222-2610 or jkurth@detnews.com.