In Georgia's race for governor, the evidence is somewhat ambiguous. DeKalb County, which includes Atlanta, is 54 percent black; Democratic candidate Barnes actually did better in '02 than he did in 1998, increasing his margin of victory there by 16,000 votes.
But elsewhere, particularly in smaller counties, the news was not as good. In Baldwin County, which is 45 percent black and which Barnes carried in 1998, his vote tally fell 26 percent on Tuesday and he lost the county to his Republican challenger, Sonny Perdue. That same story was played out again and again in Georgia counties such as Coffee, Crisp, Dodge, Toombs and Worth. Each has a black population of 30 percent or more, each voted for Barnes in 1998, and each county went Republican this time. With no evidence that blacks suddenly switched parties, analysts assume that black turnout was not high or was simply overshadowed by a heavy Christian conservative showing.
It's important to note that Barnes in Georgia lost the white vote, too. Chattooga County, which the Democrat won in 1998, is just 11 percent black. But on Tuesday, Barnes' vote tally there dropped 34 percent compared to four years ago. (Barnes upset many rural whites by pushing through the Georgia Legislature an initiative to shrink the Confederate battle emblem on the state flag.)
Barnes was not alone. Fellow Georgian Democrat Sen. Max Clelend lost Tuesday after getting beaten badly in the white suburbs. And in South Carolina, Gov. Hodges captured just three in 10 white votes.
For some African-American leaders, that raises a point of caution: Tuesday's disappointing results were not just about blacks. "Black and white, it's like mashed potatoes and gravy," says Brazile, Al Gore's former campaign manager. "But you need the mashed potatoes first. Unless you have substantial white support, the black votes won't make it on their own."
"Democrats lost five governor races in states with all white voters," adds David Bositis, senior political analyst at the Joint Center for Political and Economic Studies. He was referring to Tuesday losses in Hawaii, Idaho, South Dakota, Vermont and New Hampshire. "You can't evaluate black turnout in a vacuum."
Still, what's so frustrating for Democrats who suspect the African-American turnout was low is that it represented such a dramatic change of fortune. In 1998, heavy turnout among blacks helped elect Democratic governors in Georgia, South Carolina and Alabama, and a Democratic senator in North Carolina, breaking strong GOP momentum in the region.
"A great African-American turnout is just not going to happen every time," says Matthew Corrigan, a fellow at the University of North Florida's Center for Public Policy and Leadership. "Democrats relied too much on an extraordinary African-American turnout vs. a decent turnout, and without Clinton around, that's difficult to do."
Black turnout was never a problem for Democrats when Clinton was president. Embraced as one of their own, Clinton enjoyed remarkable support from African-Americans, many of whom not only embraced his progressive agenda of job creation, but also his Southern background and hardscrabble upbringing. That loyalty was demonstrated in 1998 when they rallied around his impeachment battle by showing up in force on Election Day.
"Clearly Democrats were spoiled with Bill Clinton," says Reid, now managing director of Westin Rinehart, a business strategies firm.
"These wealthy attorneys and bond traders who become Democratic candidates today, they don't have the affinity with blacks, the experience to relate to them like Jimmy Carter and Bill Clinton did," says University of Georgia political scientist Charles Bullock. "They had Southern, small-town experience."
If many blacks did stay home on Tuesday, perhaps it's because they were turned off by perceived snubs from Democratic officials. In North Carolina, former investment banker Erskine Bowles defeated an African-American in the primary and then never made a comfortable, public peace with the black community. In Florida, McBride cut a similar profile: a white, middle-aged, wealthy attorney, and in his primary race against Janet Reno, he essentially conceded the black vote to her. Then, when he'd won the nomination, he passed over black candidates for lieutenant governor and picked a white running mate.
Strategists suggest the choice was made in hopes of winning over white swing voters. Blacks, meanwhile, watched and fumed. When McBride finally campaigned with Clinton in African-American communities four days before the election, it was too little, too late.
"You cannot be a viable Democratic candidate today by being a Johnny-come-lately to the African-American community," says Reid. "Bill McBride never built a relationship with that community so African-American leaders in Florida didn't know who he was."
Therein lies a larger lesson, Brazile says. "My advice to Democratic candidates is: Stop the drive-by campaigns. Don't spend two years courting white voters and independents and the last two weeks courting black voters," she says. "African-American voters should not be taken for granted."