POLITICAL HARLEM – AT 7:23 A.M. ET:  Harlem has, over time, come to symbolize America's African-American community.  You say "Harlem," and everyone knows where it is and what you're talking about.  Harlem is politically critical as it often guides, in subtle ways, the African-American political class.

But Harlem is numb these days, as two of its favorite sons, Governor David Paterson of New York and Congressman Charles Rangel, essentially sink under the weight of ethics charges.  And Harlem's adopted son, President Barack Obama, is doing poorly, both in policy and politics.

It is a complete reversal from Harlem's ecstasy on election night, 2008, and residents are starting to ask some questions, as The Washington Post notes:

"I think it's been catastrophic for the black community in America and particularly in Harlem," said Bill Lynch, a political consultant who played a major role in Dinkins's historic 1989 election victory. "Harlem's seeing their political favorite sons go down. And what I'm worried about is that this could set our community back decades."

Question:  Did the election of Barack Obama have exactly the reverse of the effect that black Americans thought it would have?  When America elected Obama, it removed a stain from its past.  But it also placed African American politicians in a different class, and much more vulnerable to criticism.  Gone is much of the patronization of the past, the looking the other way because these people are "oppressed."  The New York Times, the citadel of journalistic liberalism, has actually been leading the charge against both Paterson and Rangel, even on its very leftish editorial page. This would have been unthinkable not too long ago.

Obama's election may well have freed whites to criticize, where criticism is due. 

One could roam around the wind-whipped avenues and boulevards of Harlem in the wake of it all and sense a grave uncertainty about the political future. Emotions ranged from shame to embarrassment to pity. From stoop to street corner, from office tower to diner, from living room to the famed Showman's Cafe, the mood was alternately one of anger, defiance and soul-searching.

One fascinating psychological aspect of this is that Harlem is seen differently, and is becoming different, ever since a certain political figure moved in.  One black woman comments:

She scans the street and says what many have been saying for years: Harlem is more multicultural than ever. The gentrification alarms her and some others. "Ever since Clinton came to Harlem," she said about the former president, who has an office on 125th Street, "the well-to-do have taken over. I loves me some Clinton. Cotton comes to Harlem. But where does all this leave the rest of us -- especially if Rangel and Paterson leave?"

And, a very thoughtful observation:

The young haberdasher at B. Oyama was expecting a visitor last week. It's where Paterson shops. (He didn't show.) "So many people were looking for Paterson to be a hero," said Damien Brown, 20. "People wanted to see him have a long and successful career. It's all so shocking. Why is it that it's always the people who are closest to you who will bring you down?"

That is so true.  Sometimes, if a politician is "one of our own," we tend to trust him or her.  And sometimes that trust is misplaced.  Rudy Giuliani, as mayor of New York, was intensely disliked by blacks because he was never close to them, and treated their leaders with disdain.  But the reforms he brought saved more blacks from criminal predators than all previous mayors of New York combined.  He did this while those black "leaders" wouldn't lift a finger to help.

This is an absolutely fascinating story, and raises a question, one with profound political implications:  Will the people of Harlem, and, by extension, African-Americans generally, now realize that there's another political party, the party of Lincoln, and give that party a chance?  The answer to that question could change the American political landscape.

March 8,  2010