‘Racial Politics’ to Some, Political Reality to Others

The fallout from the forced retirement of L.A.’s school superintendent was still crackling over my car radio last week. On the 405 near Seal Beach, I picked up a talk show featuring a lovey-dovey interview with Caprice Young, member of the school board majority that ousted Ruben Zacarias.

The topic was “racial politics.” The host was clearly on the warpath against Mexican American leaders who had rallied around the veteran schools chief from East L.A.

Did those leaders play the “race card?” Did they defend Zacarias just because he was Mexican American? Did they pander to the ethnic vote to promote their own political careers?

The invited trustee, part of a reform slate elected with help from Mayor Richard Riordan, offered a sweet-sounding response: “I thought as a city we had moved beyond that,” she said.

Beyond ethnic politics? Get real, Caprice. In this country, the only thing beyond ethnic politics is the hereafter. Why? Because everybody has an equal chance of getting into heaven, where greenbacks and green cards don’t count.

On Earth, unfortunately, things still don’t work that way.

In the United States, the first to play racial politics were the Founding Fathers, when they wrote the Constitution and counted each African American as three-fifths of a person. Ever since, minority politics has been a matter of moving from the margins of society to the mainstream.

We sometimes revere people who helped undo racial disparities: the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., Cesar Chavez, Nelson Mandela. They vigorously defended the interests of people of color. And we don’t seem to mind the strategy when we perceive their cause to be just.

Nowadays, however, we’ve developed the impression that racial prejudice is a thing of the past. And so we’ve concluded that race-based solutions should be discarded too. If social justice has been achieved, then ethnic politics becomes a relic of the 1960s or a cynical manipulation by self-serving politicians.

Thus critics vilified Zacarias’ most ardent defenders. These Latino leaders didn’t care about the kids, it was often said. All they cared about was keeping Zacarias and themselves in power. They’re just a cadre of insiders--a new elite--pushing a cause called la raza as a way of getting their cut of the establishment pie.

The point people missed is that 30 years ago, when Zacarias’ career was just getting started, there were only a few Latino elected officials in California. In those days, government didn’t need to worry about stepping on the toes of people who had no voice. Today, though, officials can expect intense feedback from formerly disenfranchised groups.

In a democracy, that’s not a problem. That’s progress.

Critics alleged that supporters rallied behind Zacarias just because he’s Mexican American, as if he stands for nothing else. The same scurrilous accusation was made against supporters of Loretta Sanchez, the Orange County congresswoman who unseated Bob Dornan in 1996.

But don’t forget: Sanchez was swept into power in the wake of Proposition 187, the Republican- propelled measure viewed by many as an attack on Mexicans and on the immigrant community as a whole. As a woman and as a Democrat, Sanchez might choose to line up with her Senate colleagues from California, Boxer and Feinstein. On many issues, she’s expected to stand for something besides ethnicity.

But as a Latina, she’s expected to take a more humane stand on immigration than did her California counterparts during the height of anti-immigrant hysteria. After all, she has a constituency others ignore: the janitors, busboys, gardeners, hotel maids, nannies, fast-food workers and yes, the noncitizens who can’t vote in school board elections.

It’s the same Latino constituency that accounts for 70% of L.A. school enrollment in a district with only one Latino representative on the school board. Yet, those who dare point out the electoral imbalance are accused of playing the race card, as if demands for fair representation were just a card-table bluff.

In the face of subsequent attacks on affirmative action and bilingual education, it became even more important to have representatives who grew up in barrios, got punished for speaking Spanish in school, didn’t get the best grades and had to go to work instead of college.

Of course, not all Latinos are poor and poorly educated. By upbringing and income, I have more in common with middle-class, white suburbanites than I do with recent Mexican immigrants. But my politics are aligned with Latino leaders who protect the interests of the poor and powerless.

If you want to move beyond ethnic politics, stop reminding me that we still need it.

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Agustin Gurza’s column appears Tuesday. Readers can reach Gurza at (714) 966-7712 or online at agustin.gurza@latimes.com