SINCE THE MOMENT George W. Bush was declared winner of Florida’s 25 electoral votes, both state and national black leaders have vowed to exact revenge on brother Jeb. With Jeb Bush’s announcement that he will run for reelection as governor of Florida in 2002, they think they have their chance. “Welcome to Florida, the state that doesn’t count every vote,” said Adora Obi Nweze, president of the state’s NAACP chapter, at an Inauguration Day rally. “We’re here to say, ‘George W. Bush, have fun. You’ve got one term. And Jeb Bush…you have two more years.’” Florida Democrats have begun a high-dollar national fund-raising campaign to oust Jeb. The Democratic National Committee, seeking to nurture and perpetuate Democratic anger over the presidential election, launched a “Voting Rights Institute” in Florida earlier this spring. And nearly a dozen Florida Democrats, including ex-attorney general Janet Reno, are considering a challenge to Bush. All of this, plus the obvious White House interest, insures that Florida’s gubernatorial election will be one of the most fiercely contested races next year. Just how fiercely can be gauged by the fact that the chairman of the state Republican party said last week he is “seriously considering” a strategy “to call into question the credibility” of the state’s black leaders. This is a striking departure from the Republican cordiality with black leaders that Jeb Bush has sought in recent years. And the new testiness is reciprocated across the race divide. Ask Rev. Jerry Girley about Jeb and his relations with Florida’s blacks, and the longtime Democrat and civil rights leader at first waxes philosophical: “It’s never too late, my friend.” But truth be told, he sees little potential black support for Bush’s reelection bid. “Is it too late for him to build relationships with us? Yeah, absolutely,” he says. “Is it too late for him to work with people of color? Yeah. There’s not going to be any bridge-building between the African-American community and the [Jeb] Bush administration.” If Girley is right, Bush should be worried. Though blacks usually make up a relatively small percentage of Florida voters, their votes were crucial—perhaps decisive—in his two previous gubernatorial bids. In 1994, a year in which Republicans across the nation swept into office, Bush lost his challenge to incumbent governor Lawton Chiles, 51-49 percent. He pulled just 6 percent of the black vote that year. In 1998, after a four-year campaign designed to boost his image among the state’s minorities, Bush did better, more than doubling his share of black votes, as he defeated Buddy MacKay, then Florida’s lieutenant governor. But Jeb Bush’s popularity with Florida’s black voters may have peaked in 1998, when 86 percent of them voted for someone else. A year later he announced his “One Florida” plan, which sought to eliminate some but not all racial preferences and sparked protests across the state, including one in which two black legislators and several reporters camped for 25 hours inside the office of Bush’s lieutenant governor. The ceaseless criticism from black Democrats and the media coverage of it was a first-term nightmare. (Ironically, Bush had conceived his plan as an alternative to a more comprehensive ban on racial preferences promoted by Ward Connerly, who led a successful campaign for such a ban in California. Bush labeled that effort “divisive,” and said “I can’t imagine doing what he’s talking about.”) “One Florida” enjoyed support from a majority of the state’s voters, but the protests against it foreshadowed the baseless but relentless accusations that Jeb Bush somehow conspired to fix the outcome of the election that made his brother president, and that he did so by “disenfranchising” thousands of black voters. The potency of such demagoguery was on full display June 8 when the U.S. Civil Rights Commission released its report on the Florida vote. Even this partisan document, which came after a six-month investigation of the Florida election, offered no evidence of wrongdoing. Still, the report suggested that Bush was negligent, and it artfully managed to assign him almost full blame. Media coverage of the findings largely echoed the tone and the substance of the report. And Democrats cloaked their aspersions in grave, civics-lesson language designed to stoke minority resentment. “The DNC believes that voting is the language of our democracy, and we support the Commission’s efforts to no longer allow Governor Bush and Secretary of State Katherine Harris to silence minority voters in Florida,” said DNC national development chairman Maynard Jackson. Susan McManus, a professor of political science at the University of South Florida, says Democratic arguments about the presidential election resonate in the black community. Asked whether Bush can do anything to repair his standing with Florida’s black residents, she replies, “I don’t think so. But it’s not just Jeb Bush, it’s all Republicans. Election 2000 has reopened too many of the wounds of Republicans.” Florida GOP chairman Al Cardenas provides evidence of that. “Frankly,” he says, “I’m seriously contemplating a counteroffensive and taking the African-American leadership to task.” Cardenas, who doesn’t mention any of these leaders by name, acknowledges that such a strategy would mark a significant departure from recent GOP efforts. “For years, Republican consultants said, oh, let’s not get into a confrontation with African-American leaders because that will just lead to more confrontation and mistrust,” said Cardenas. “Now, as 2000 shows, there’s really nothing to lose by confronting them.” In terms of raw numbers, he may be right. Black turnout in Florida increased by 65 percent from the 1996 to the 2000 presidential elections. Florida Republicans had devoted significant time and resources to increasing their share of these votes, even assigning a full-time staffer to “African-American outreach.” Despite these efforts, more than 9 of 10 black voters in Florida cast ballots for Al Gore. This outreach failed in part, Cardenas suggests, because Republicans have been too timid to challenge directly the more demagogic anti-Republican claims of black leadership. Cardenas, who also sits on the Republican National Committee’s “New Voices, New Faces” minority outreach committee, warns that a continued failure to do so will doom future outreach efforts. “We need to call into question the African-American leaders and what they’re saying,” says Cardenas. “If we don’t do that, [voters are] going to take the Democrats’ and the African-American leadership’s word for it. The only way we break that cycle is to call into question the credibility of those who are parlaying that message.” Cardenas pledges to avoid “the politics of personal destruction,” but nonetheless says he intends to ask some tough questions. “[Democrats] controlled things for years. So we’ll ask them why the schools haven’t gotten better. Why has economic development in our cities failed for years?” Such a strategy might open up Republicans to additional criticism from Democrats. Perhaps not surprisingly, Bob Poe, chairman of the Florida Democratic party, says it would be “insidious” to question the good faith of black leaders. “To attempt to undermine the credibility of African-American leaders is racist—and I use that term advisedly. It’s divisive, and I think it will backfire.” Poe can’t resist a personal shot at Cardenas. “It’s right in line with when he called an African-American voter registration drive a ‘hate tour.’” One Republican strategist says bluntly, “Al Cardenas is speaking for himself.” Bush advisers distance themselves from Cardenas and insist that the reelection campaign will focus on the candidate. “Jeb Bush has a fantastic story to tell, and he’s going to campaign across the state telling it,” says one. “He’s got a great record and he’s going to campaign on it.” Rev. Girley, too, thinks the campaign wi
ll center on Bush. “African Americans will be energized and will go to the polls like never before,” he says. Stephen F. Hayes is a staff writer at The Weekly Standard.
