Guess what happens when a white conservative and a black liberal join forces?
Jun 10, 1999 | These aren't exactly salad days for African-American liberals in Congress. The conventional wisdom has it that their time in American politics has come and gone, replaced by fights over the very existence of affirmative action, and by a Democrat in the White House who brags about signing a Republican-authored welfare reform bill.
But you wouldn't have known this in March 1998, when the House Education and Workforce Committee began to vote on the pet project of Philadelphia Democrat Chaka Fattah. Known as the GEAR UP initiative, it would devote $120 million to spread the word to low-income grade- and high school students about federal college aid money.
The committee's 19 Democrats, of course, backed Fattah's bill solidly. The Republicans were a different story. Many, led by committee Chairman William Goodling, voted against it -- but there were a handful of notable exceptions. Like Mark Souder, a conservative Republican from Indiana and member of the legendary GOP class of '94. And Joe Scarborough, a Floridian, also of the class of '94. And Indiana's David McIntosh. And Pennsylvania's John Peterson. And Michigan's Fred Upton.
And, at the end of the day, due to the support of these GOP conservatives, GEAR UP passed.
So, what happened here? The alliance seems odd -- black and white, Democrat and Republican, left and right. But it's indicative of a small, if growing, trend that exemplifies three new strains in American politics: the "compassionate conservatism" preached by Texas Gov. George W. Bush, the pragmatism of a new generation of African-American congressmen and the fact that some of the best initiatives to help the poor and rebuild the inner city are coming from community activists who preach a brand of self-help that Republicans can relate to.
Fattah, a minority member of the overwhelmingly Republican class of '94, attributes part of his willingness to work with conservative Republicans to the fact that as a 12-year state legislator in Harrisburg, he was forced to learn how to function as a member of the minority party, "unlike some Democrats here, who have never [previously] experienced being in the minority," he observes. "You have a couple choices. And one of them is trying to get something done."
"Some of it's generational politics," says Rep. Harold Ford Jr., D-Tenn., who just turned 29 last month, and is a member of the class of '96. "A lot of the new guys associated with the more conservative wing of the Republican Party bring an approach to governing that's all about what works."
From the other side of the aisle, Souder sees possibility as well. "There's a group of young African-American leaders who are willing to work with Republicans, and focus on economic opportunities, rather than just do finger-pointing," he says.
Ford says the personal relationships he's established with individuals like Rep. Mark Sanford, R-S.C., certainly help. "We're all new members, or relatively new members," he says, "and some of us are closer in age than we are with members of our own party. We play basketball every day in the House gym, and we work out together, so the relationships are there. And while I certainly wouldn't betray my convictions based on the fact that we lift weights together, because the relationships are there, there's a willingness to at least listen."
Souder agrees. "There's a comfort among members that you wouldn't expect from the news media, which suggests that we're in armed camps with Uzis pointed at one another."
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