In fact, the entire Clinton administration-studded with mediocrities appointed because of what rather than who they are–is a compelling case study in the perils of affirmative action. “There are times when some employers don’t use it the tight way,” the president said last week. “They may . . . treat a flexible goal as a quota. They may give opportunities to people who are unqualified instead of those who deserve it. They may in doing so allow a different kind of discrimination . . .”
Exactly. In addition to its patent disingenuousness, the president’s speech was a wistful, perfunctory and intellectually flaccid affair. Invitations were issued to the leaders of the civil-rights community, and the Rotunda of the National Archives was filled with the heroes of a landmark American struggle. But they are a dwindling band; there were more than a few vacant seats, and the president’s speech seemed the last of an era, rather than a necessary road map for the next phase of social assimilation. The “purpose of affirmative action,” he said, was to address the “systemic exclusion of individuals of talent.” True, once. But does anyone believe that there isn’t frantic competition now in the corporate, academic and public sectors for “individuals of talent” of all races and genders? The real American race crisis is social, not legal: whole neighborhoods of children growing up–without fathers, inevitably–and without the rudimentary skills necessary to succeed in school and society. To pretend otherwise, as this speech did, is irresponsible.
The president also abdicated responsibility by not telling African-Americans the truth, by not preparing them for the future: whether affirmative action “works” or not, it is about to be severely curtailed. The day after Clinton’s speech, the University of California’s regents voted to restrict racial preferences, an action bound to reverberate across the country. Even the Clinton administration won’t be immune. As a Justice Department advisory made clear several weeks ago, “set-aside” programs for minority contractors will be very difficult to sustain after the Supreme Court’s Adarand decision. “Whatever the president ‘announced’ in his speech,” said one close observer of Clinton’s racial preference review, “this administration is about to divest a big chunk of its affirmative action portfolio.”
The unequivocal tone of the speech-and post-speech spin-was refreshing . . . if curious. It certainly played better than Clinton’s usual fudge. But there were those who wondered if the president was simply throwing a preemptive bouquet to the Democratic Party’s most loyal constituents (especially a constituent named Jesse Jackson) in order to cement them in place as affirmative action is whittled away in the months to come. Others saw the speech as part of Clinton’s perennial balancing act: after he lurched to the center on the budget last month, it was the left’s turn for a counter-lurch. Who knows? I suspect the real bottom line here is that Clinton would have felt intense personal discomfort being on the opposite side of this issue from friends and legends like Georgia Congressman John Lewis, NAACP president Myrlie Evers-Williams and Vernon Jordan. But his friends deserve more than empathy and condescension. They deserve to know what Clinton proposes to do next. Above all, they deserve a new, aggressive strategy of inclusion to replace affirmative action.
In a way, the most interesting reaction to Clinton’s speech came from the congressional Republicans, who held their fire. Their prudence stood in sharp contrast to the crude screechings of California Gov. Pete Wilson, who hopes to ride this issue toward relevance in the GOP presidential campaign. “The Republican Party is at risk of using affirmative action as a destructive force in 1996,” said Jeff Eisenach, president of the Progress and Freedom Foundation and a longtime adviser to Newt Gingrich on social policy. “That would be irresponsible in an atmosphere so highly charged.” Interesting. Last week, Gingrich tried to persuade Bob Dole not to act on this issue until the GO? can offer a substantive alternative. “We think the alternate offer should be a new urban policy,” Eisenach says. “We’re working very hard on it now.” Some skepticism may be appropriate here. Gingrich is better known for demagogic grandstanding than for the pragmatic detail work–and prodigious expenditures of energy, to say nothing of money–needed to bridge the chasm between the suburban middle class and the urban poor. But he does speak passionately about the problems of cities. And he has raised the ante. With Clinton retreating into nostalgia and cliche, wouldn’t it be a lovely thing if the Speaker isn’t bluffing?