THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, June 19, 1996 TAG: 9606190009
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A10 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Editorial
LENGTH: 116 lines
The best argument for the Supreme Court's recent rejection of race-based congressional districts in North Carolina and Texas was made by Justice Sandra Day O'Connor.
Such districts, she said, flout the U.S. Constitution by suggesting that ``political identity is, or should be predominantly racial.''
The best argument against the decision came from Laughlin McDonald, Southern regional director of the American Civil Liberties Union.
``The inevitable consequence,'' he said, ``will be to produce a Congress that is increasingly white at a time when the nation is increasingly diverse.''
Unfortunately, both O'Connor and McDonald probably are right.
The challenge since the Voting Rights Act was adopted in 1965 has been to find the proper balance between the national ideal of a race-blind society and the national reality of a race-conscious one.
Congressional districts stretched and squeezed to create majority-minority electorates often do suggest that race is paramount in determining common interest. Skin color appears more important than economics or geography or political tradition in binding a voting group.
Such thinking is contrary to our most-cherished national goals.
And yet, the reality of how Americans vote also is largely contrary to those goals. Only in recent years has there been any significant departure from the old political dictum that blacks will vote for white candidates but whites do not routinely vote for black candidates.
Certainly, there are notable exceptions. Former Virginia Gov. Doug Wilder, Seattle Mayor Norman Rice and Illinois Sen. Carol Moseley-Braun are examples of African Americans elevated within majority-white districts (although often not by a majority of the whites who voted).
Even so, majority-white districts represented by minority officeholders remain as rare as snow in April. It happens, but not often, and it's a surprise when it does.
Over the years, the Voting Rights Act has evolved from a law that erased barriers to voter registration to a law that actively sought to dismantle voting apartheid to a law that some see as encouraging it. The evolution has been driven by the enduring gap between the size of the nation's minority population and the number of its minority officeholders.
What the U.S. Supreme Court said last week and in a 1993 North Carolina decision is that there is a limit to how far states can go to make the complexion of officeholders match that of voters. Even before the decision, there was debate among civil-rights sympathizers over whether majority-minority districts helped or hurt.
Following the 1990 census and the carving out of more such districts, the number of African Americans in Congress grew from 26 to 41. But the concentration of dependably Democratic voters also cleared the way for Republicans to win more of the remaining seats and spurred the Republican takeover of Congress.
There is a glimmer of hope for those opposed to the Supreme Court's 5-4 decision. Justice O'Connor broke with the majority to say that some majority-black districts may stand, if they are geographically compact and other issues were not ``subordinated to race'' in creating them.
Case-by-case review will be required in Virginia's 3rd Congressional District and elsewhere.
Meanwhile, it is more incumbent than ever on those who say race should have no place in the voting booth to prove with their ballots that it does not.
The best argument for the Supreme Court's recent rejection of race-based congressional districts in North Carolina and Texas was made by Justice Sandra Day O'Connor.
Such districts, she said, flout the U.S. Constitution by suggesting that ``political identity is, or should be predominantly racial.''
The best argument against the decision came from Laughlin McDonald, Southern regional director of the American Civil Liberties Union.
``The inevitable consequence,'' he said, ``will be to produce a Congress that is increasingly white at a time when the nation is increasingly diverse.''
Unfortunately, both O'Connor and McDonald probably are right.
The challenge since the Voting Rights Act was adopted in 1965 has been to find the proper balance between the national ideal of a race-blind society and the national reality of a race-conscious one.
Congressional districts stretched and squeezed to create majority-minority electorates often do suggest that race is paramount in determining common interest. Skin color appears more important than economics or geography or political tradition in binding a voting group.
Such thinking is contrary to our most-cherished national goals.
And yet, the reality of how Americans vote also is largely contrary to those goals. Only in recent years has there been any significant departure from the old political dictum that blacks will vote for white candidates but whites do not routinely vote for black candidates.
Certainly, there are notable exceptions. Former Virginia Gov. Doug Wilder, Seattle Mayor Norman Rice and Illinois Sen. Carol Moseley-Braun are examples of African Americans elevated within majority-white districts (although often not by a majority of the whites who voted).
Even so, majority-white districts represented by minority officeholders remain as rare as snow in April. It happens, but not often, and it's a surprise when it does.
Over the years, the Voting Rights Act has evolved from a law that erased barriers to voter registration to a law that actively sought to dismantle voting apartheid to a law that some see as encouraging it. The evolution has been driven by the enduring gap between the size of the nation's minority population and the number of its minority officeholders.
What the U.S. Supreme Court said last week and in a 1993 decision is that there is a limit to how far states can go to make the complexion of officeholders match that of voters. Even before the decision, there was debate among civil-rights sympathizers over whether majority-minority districts helped or hurt.
Following the 1990 census and the carving out of more such districts, the number of African Americans in Congress grew from 26 to 41. But the concentration of dependably Democratic voters also cleared the way for Republicans to win more of the remaining seats and spurred the Republican takeover of Congress.
There is a glimmer of hope for those opposed to the Supreme Court's 5-4 decision. Justice O'Connor broke with the majority to say that some majority-black districts may stand, if they are geographically compact and other issues were not ``subordinated to race'' in creating them.
Case-by-case review will be required in Virginia's 3rd Congressional District and elsewhere.
Meanwhile, it is more incumbent than ever on those who say race should have no place in the voting booth to prove with their ballots that it does not. by CNB