The two-part post today is from this time three years ago. It comes back to me as I consider how to move past 2020. One feature of progressive organizing that leaves the movement an alphabet soup of dispersed interest groups is the perpetual lack of funding for keeping talented activists fed and in the field pulling in the same direction.
An Obama 2008 organizer friend got picked up by Organizing for America after the election. OFA paid him to keep WNC Obama activists active. (We shared an adventure the day of the ACA vote. ) That is until funding got cut and he had to find a nonpolitical job to pay the bills between campaigns. What a loss. Another talented activist here won a job as Register of Deeds (more in Part 2). He’s now nationally recognized and got a life stable enough to raise a family in the area. But those jobs are few and far between. So many activists burn themselves out in their twenties and leave politics for a roof and food and a family.
The more ambitious and connected set up their own nonprofits as Stacey Abrams did in Georgia. Fundraising pays salaries and keeps talented activists in the fight. Or rather in a slew of fights: from climate activism to clean energy to voting rights to health care. At election time, coordinating between the various players on the ground is a nightmare. One hand doesn’t know what the other is doing and, depending on the group’s tax status, is not allowed tp coordinate with campaigns. Duplication of efforts seems the rule rather than the exception. (See tweet image above.)
Maybe it is naive (or wishful) thinking, but for all the never-ending complaints about lack of persistent progressive infrastructure, little attention gets paid to improving the infrastructure that does exist by state law (where it exists) at the county level: county committees. Celebrated for flipping blue by 12,000 votes in 2020, under 100 of Georgia’s 159 counties have Democratic county committees with any organization or digital presence enough to reach them (email, Facebook, web page, etc.). Many are rural and tiny. Fifteen counties are under 10,000 in population. (Okay, Nebraska has 66 like that, with a dozen under 10,000.) But those Georgia counties have combined populations of 1.1 million. (Nebraska’s hold fewer than 300,000.) Is organizing to boost rural turnout in states like Georgia inefficient money-wise? Probably. So is ceding rural legislative seats to the GOP without a fight. Democrats running statewide don’t necessarily have to win out there. They only have to shave GOP margins, but they might even turn red legislatures purple in the process.
But you can’t compete if you don’t show up to play.
Political Survivor
by Tom Sullivan
Part 1 of 2
From a post last December:
There is a lot of “old-boyism” in party politics. Mostly because people who have the time and/or resources to pursue party work are older. But older doesn’t always mean more skilled; experienced doesn’t always mean the right kind.
Political leaders tend to hang onto power and neglect cultivating heirs who have mastered technologies they don’t understand. They would rather turn over the reins to trusted chums. Kathy Sinclair was not in the club.
Sinclair had been the driving force in organizing an unofficial John Kerry campaign in western North Carolina in 2004. The newcomer from Chicago attended a meetup at a local tavern, and with no prior experience organized hundreds of volunteers in a region that would not be considered a part of a swing state until 2008.
Dennis Kucinich winning the presidential caucus here in 2004 was a deep embarrassment to seasoned party hands. Didn’t “those progressives” know favorite-son John Edwards was supposed to win? A Kucinich convention delegate won a key seat on the county executive board the next year, but bristled at the top-down culture. Party leaders stonewalled her, as she saw it, and she resigned.
The old boys got their club back. It didn’t last.
The Democratic committee in Buncombe County, NC began the transition to a more grassroots organization around 2007. It is a transition the DNC has yet to make nationally. Insiders often don’t know when it is time to pass the baton. They have forgotten what skilled managers know. Training their replacements is a key responsibility.
The problem here was, as it is nationally, lack of succession planning. Insiders hold power so closely for so long that there is no one to pass the baton to except another of their graying cohort.
When Ellie Richard, the Kucinich delegate, resigned her position as 1st vice chair in 2006, Sinclair, by then party secretary, ran to fill the vacancy. The position would give her responsibility for organizing precincts across the county, a power held closely by what amounted to a shadow party known downtown as the Courthouse Gang.
In North Carolina, when partisan elected officials die or resign their seats, members of their local committee elect a replacement for appointment by the governor. Keeping tight rein on who held those voting positions ensured the Courthouse could control who was in control. For Democrats, the same group votes to fill county committee vacancies.
With her organizing bona fides and name recognition, Sinclair figured the open position was within reach. She gathered names of committee members and began making phone calls to ask for their votes.
The county chairman was coy about Sinclair’s chances. All he would tell me was, “Let’s just say, she’ll have competition.”
The Saturday morning of the special election, the party headquarters was filled to bursting. Sinclair’s stunned supporters whispered, “Who are these people?” Precinct officers they had never seen at headquarters appeared for this vote, summoned by the Courthouse.
Party veterans presented one of their own: JoAnn Morgan, a native, a Courthouse employee and former county chair. After a tense relationship with progressive activists, the Courthouse was re-exerting control.
Sinclair lost. The vote wasn’t even close. Progressives were blindsided, and the defeat was crushing. Sinclair went home to lick her wounds.
For many activists, that would have been the end. Nevertheless, she persisted.
The fall of 2006 was a “blue moon” election in North Carolina (as 2018 will be). There were no national or statewide races in contention. The 11th District race for Congress was, locally, the marquee race atop the ticket.
Former NFL quarterback Heath Shuler ran against and defeated Rep. Charles Taylor, an eight-term Republican and associate of Russian bankers. Shuler’s was an energetic and well-funded campaign. (Full disclosure: As NCDP’s Get Out The Vote Coordinator for NC-11, I answered to the campaign.)
Progressives outside the South may have a low opinion of Shuler. (The Blue Dog left Congress in 2013 to become a Duke Energy lobbyist for a few years.) Still, sending home “Chainsaw Charlie” was a shot in the arm to local Democrats. Progressive campaign veterans now had a win under their belts and solid organizing chops.
In December 2006, a core team met at a local Greek restaurant to plan taking on the Courthouse in the party committee’s 2007 spring elections.
By established practice, the county chair appointed a committee to “nominate” a slate of candidates for the six county executive posts. The list would be presented to the county convention essentially as a fait accompli. Progressives knew anyone named was likely in the pocket of the shadow party. Convention delegates deserved a choice. Sinclair and company planned to give them one.
Ensuring continuity of leadership is the chair’s responsibility, but maintaining control was a Courthouse goal. The last thing old party hands want is democracy breaking out in the Democratic Party. “Division in the party” is the traditional bugaboo veterans invoke to discourage contested races. Contested races here meant the Courthouse might not get its way.
In 2007, it would not.
(conclusion tomorrow)
The Happy Hollandaise fundraiser ends today, so if you’re of a mind to kick in a little something below or at the snail mail address on the sidebar, you will help make 2021 brighter.