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    A Democratic Governor in Mississippi? He Thinks It’s Possible.

    With a promise to expand Medicaid and a focus on turning out Black voters, Brandon Presley is confident he can do what no Democrat has done in 20 years. After stopping by a meet-and-greet in Ridgeland, a porch festival in Vicksburg, the Great Delta Bear Affair in Rolling Fork and an event on a baseball diamond in Yazoo City, Brandon Presley entered a packed room in McComb, launching into the message he believes can get a Democrat — namely, himself — elected governor of Mississippi. He would immediately move to expand Medicaid, which would help resuscitate rural hospitals and provide largely free government health insurance to most low-income adults. He would slash a hated tax on groceries. Above all, he assured the crowd, he would be a very different governor than Tate Reeves, the Republican incumbent, whom he denounced as ensconced in privilege and dented by scandal.“The fight in politics in Mississippi is not right versus left,” Mr. Presley, an elected public utilities commissioner and a former mayor of Nettleton, his tiny hometown in northern Mississippi, said in McComb. “And sometimes, it’s not even Democrat versus Republican. It’s those of us on the outside versus those of them on the inside.” Mr. Presley’s campaign has been a built on a bet that his human touch and populist platform can forge a coalition of Black and liberal-to-centrist white voters, some disaffected Republicans among them, that is robust enough for him to win. It is a test of a blueprint that Democrats have long relied on, but to diminishing effect in recent decades, as Republicans have tightened their grip on power in Mississippi and most of the South.Mr. Presley, left, and Tate Reeves, the Republican incumbent, during a debate on Wednesday.Brett Kenyon/WAPT, via Associated PressYet Mr. Presley has gained decent momentum — and with it, the attention of Democrats outside Mississippi. He has raised more than $11 million since January, far outpacing Mr. Reeves, and has used the money to flood television and radio stations with campaign advertisements. The nonpartisan Cook Political Report recently found that the election had “morphed into a competitive fight.” But it also classified the race as “likely to lean Republican” — a splash of cold water underscoring that, no matter how much ground Mr. Presley gains or optimism he has inspired in Southern Democrats, he still faces difficult odds in a state that has not elected a Democratic governor in 24 years.In the race for governor four years ago, Jim Hood, then the state attorney general and the last Democrat elected to statewide office, was seen as the most viable candidate the party had fielded in Mississippi in more than a decade. Yet he lost to Mr. Reeves by about five percentage points.Still, Mr. Presley sensed an opening. He believed that Mr. Reeves’s shaky popularity ratings, fury over a sprawling scandal involving welfare funds being directed to the pet projects of wealthy and connected Republicans, and dissatisfaction over the state’s eternal struggle for prosperity could allow him to accomplish what previous Democratic candidates could not. If neither candidate wins a majority of the popular vote on Tuesday, the race will go to a runoff on Nov. 28. Mr. Presley has invested enormous effort in mobilizing Black voters, a crucial bloc in a state where nearly 40 percent of the population is Black. But turning out the rest of the coalition that Mr. Presley needs — for example, white working-class voters who might have voted for Mr. Reeves last time — will be instrumental.“You can’t win if you don’t win white crossover votes,” said Byron D’Andra Orey, a political science professor at Jackson State University. For months, Mr. Presley has had marathon days ping-ponging across Mississippi, stopping in all 82 counties. He has become a frequent presence at football games on historically Black college campuses, as well as at festivals and small gatherings in community centers. In each place, he has made the same case: He is not a liberal — he opposes abortion rights — and he is certainly no elite. True, Elvis Presley was his second cousin, but a distant relative’s fame did nothing to boost his family’s fortunes. His mother was left to raise him and his siblings on her own after his father was killed when he was 8. Mr. Presley has become a frequent presence at football games on historically Black college campuses, as well as at festivals and small gatherings in community centers.Emily Kask for The New York Times“I’m white, and I’m country — it ain’t nothing I can do about it,” Mr. Presley told a mostly Black audience at one campaign stop. “But I get up every day and go to bed every night trying to pull Mississippi together.”The state fractures along racial and regional lines, creating a landscape that is anything but homogeneous, even as it tilts heavily in the Republican Party’s favor. The western flank, including the flat expanse of farmland in the Delta, votes for Democrats. Mr. Presley has wagered that one of his goals in particular can unify Democrats and Republicans, Black and many white voters: joining the 40 other states that have expanded Medicaid under the Affordable Care Act. Researchers have forecast that doing so would make the coverage available to roughly 230,000 lower-income adults over six years. Polls in Mississippi — where death rates are among the nation’s highest for heart disease, stroke, diabetes and cancer — have indicated overwhelming support.Mr. Reeves has been adamant in his opposition to expanding Medicaid, pointing to the cost (most of which would be a federal responsibility) and dismissing it as “welfare.” In September, he proposed an alternative that, if approved by federal officials, would increase funding for some hospitals but would not provide coverage for the uninsured. Mr. Presley with a supporter in Fulton, Miss.Houston Cofield for The New York TimesGrant Dowdy, a dentist in Greenville who came to the festival in Rolling Fork, said he was prepared to break a consistent streak of voting for Republicans precisely because of Mr. Presley’s support for Medicaid expansion. Mississippi, he said, “needs to be like every other sensible state in the nation.”But in such a polarized political climate, where party allegiance often outweighs all else, recruiting enough Republicans to tip the scale toward Mr. Presley may prove impossible. In 2001, he became the youngest mayor in Mississippi when was elected to lead Nettleton, a city of some 1,900 people in the state’s northeast. Since then, Mr. Presley, 46, has been elected four times to represent a vast swath of northern Mississippi on the state’s Public Service Commission, which regulates telecommunications, electric, gas, water and sewer utilities. Colleagues and supporters said the position — in a district filled with heavily conservative areas — helped him hone the solicitous approach he is bringing to the governor’s race. Mr. Reeves has cast Mr. Presley as a liberal aligned with President Biden, and his campaign as orchestrated by the national Democratic Party. He has pointed out that most of Mr. Presley’s fund-raising haul has come from outside Mississippi. “Ask yourself: Why are they dropping historic money on Mississippi to flip it blue?” Mr. Reeves said on social media in October. “It’s because they know Brandon Presley will govern like a liberal Democrat.”Mr. Reeves is also emphasizing his conservative bona fides, including tax cuts he has signed and a promise to keep pursuing his ambition of eliminating the state income tax. Mr. Presley has been elected four times to represent a swath of northern Mississippi on the state’s Public Services Commission.Houston Cofield for The New York TimesHe has touted the state’s unemployment rate, which has fallen to just over 3 percent — the lowest it has been in decades. He has also campaigned on raises he approved last year for public schoolteachers that were among the largest in state history, amounting to average increase of about $5,100 a year. Mr. Reeves has also said that his administration is trying to claw back money misspent in the welfare scandal, in which more than $77 million was siphoned from the state’s poorest residents to fund projects like one championed by Brett Favre, the former N.F.L. player, to build a volleyball stadium at the University of Southern Mississippi. Mr. Reeves was the state’s lieutenant governor at the time. Mr. Presley knows how to rouse a crowd, evoking a pastor in one moment and insult comic the next. He skewered Mr. Reeves at the candidate forum in McComb to cheers of approval and howling laughter, offering an almost cartoonish depiction of the governor as unfamiliar with and unsympathetic to the hardships facing the working poor.“Like the pharaoh of old, his heart has turned to stone,” Mr. Presley said. He also took particular delight in roasting upgrades reportedly made to the governor’s mansion, like a special shelter for lemon trees and a pricey ice maker (“It better make that good Sonic ice!”).At various stops, he has told crowds about a promise to his wife, Katelyn, whom he married just three months ago: If he wins, they will feed the homeless out of the governor’s mansion. His concern for the needy, he says, grew out his own experience enduring the turmoil and indignities of poverty. Some who came out to hear him speak recently said they were drawn to Mr. Presley because his early struggles sounded familiar — and simply because he was there, reaching out to them.“Look where he is,” said Joseph M. Daughtry Sr., the police chief in Columbus, where Mr. Presley had navigated a maze of country highways to speak to a few dozen people at a community center in a poor, largely Black neighborhood. “We have somebody who understands us,” Chief Daughtry said. “Somebody who cares about us. And somebody who is not ashamed of us.”Mr. Presley walked over to shake his hand. More

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    How Did Democrats Lose Control of State Agriculture Policy?

    How Did Democrats Lose Control of State Agriculture Policy?Democrats once dominated statewide elections for the influential post of agriculture commissioner. Now they’re hoping to win just one.Kentucky is one of 12 states with elected agriculture commissioners. Clockwise from top left: A soybean farm in Adairville; harvesting apples in Nancy; a tractor caution sign in Pulaski County; a livestock auction in Somerset.Nov. 1, 2023Jonathan Robertson was preparing to start the workday on his family cattle farm when a campaign ad in the race for agriculture commissioner of Kentucky flashed across his television.He couldn’t hear the narrator, but he noticed that the candidate — the name was Shell, he believed — was shown on the screen baling hay and driving farm equipment.“I haven’t heard anything about who’s running,” Mr. Robertson, 47, recalled a few hours later, stopping with his brother for the $5.99 lunch special at the Wigwam General Store in Horse Cave., Ky. “Who’s his opponent?”Neither Mr. Robertson nor his brother, Josh, 44, knew who was in the race, but they had no doubt how they would vote: “I’m a straight-ticket Republican,” Josh said.Democrats face daunting odds in races for the under-the-radar but vitally important position of state agriculture commissioner — and not just in Kentucky, where the two people competing on Nov. 7 are Jonathan Shell, a former Republican state legislator, and Sierra Enlow, a Democratic economic development consultant.Jonathan Shell, the Republican candidate for Kentucky agriculture commissioner, is a former state legislator and a fifth-generation farmer.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.We are confirming your access to this article, this will take just a moment. However, if you are using Reader mode please log in, subscribe, or exit Reader mode since we are unable to verify access in that state.Confirming article access.If you are a subscriber, please  More

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    Mayor Adams Turns His Back on Immigrants and New York’s Legacy

    Since last year, tens of thousands of asylum seekers have arrived in New York City from the southern border and around the world, seeking a better life in a place that has welcomed generations of immigrants since its founding.What many of those migrants have found instead is a tepid welcome amid a housing crisis that has left the city barely equipped to offer them more than a meal in the hotels used to house a booming homeless population. They are lucky if they get a bed.In recent days, the slapdash system the city has built to address the crisis has broken down completely, leaving migrants sleeping on Midtown streets. The city says there is no more room for them, but advocates say it needs to try harder.And on Sunday, The Times reported that a shady contractor tapped by New York’s mayor, Eric Adams, to send asylum seekers upstate and provide them with services harassed them instead. The city’s taxpayers are footing the bill for this abuse, to the tune of $432 million. The curiously large, no-bid contract with DocGo, a medical services company, should never have been signed and needs to be terminated.It’s true, as Mr. Adams has repeatedly said, that this crisis is a national issue and requires action from the White House and Congress. Cities like New York, which has more than 100,000 people living in shelters, cannot be expected to welcome asylum seekers on their own. More than 90,000 migrants have arrived in New York City over the past year, many as part of a political stunt by Texas, Florida and Arizona. Though immigrants strengthen the U.S. economy and are a vital part of the fabric of the democracy, local governments can’t simply absorb tens of thousands of people without help — especially for housing — and their taxpayers, in New York and elsewhere, shouldn’t be expected to foot the bill.Still, there is something particularly disappointing about New York City’s official response to the asylum seekers, unfolding under the gaze of the Statue of Liberty in the harbor. Nearly four in 10 city residents were born outside the United States. Waves of immigrants — Dutch, Irish, Italian, Jewish, Chinese, Latino and Afro-Caribbean immigrants, along with many others — helped build this city. So did millions of Black Americans who chased dreams in the city after fleeing the tyranny of the Jim Crow South.That rich legacy doesn’t seem to be on Mr. Adams’s mind. Since the moment the migrants began showing up last spring, he has made clear he wants little to do with the practical or humanitarian issues their arrival has raised. The mayor has provided basic services for the migrants, and rightly so. But at every turn, he has done so grudgingly.Michael M. Santiago/Getty ImagesMr. Adams has complained loudly that the immigrants were a “burden” on the city’s resources. His administration shut down a welcome center at the Port Authority bus terminal where volunteers had for months helped connect asylum seekers to services.He said the migrants would cost the city $4.3 billion over the next two fiscal years, a figure New York’s nonpartisan budget watchdog said is probably $1.2 billion too high. He tried to undo a 1981 court decree that requires the city to provide shelter to anyone who needs it.He erected giant tents — now dismantled — to house the migrants in remote areas of the city inaccessible to public transit, then made it exceedingly difficult for nonprofit groups to provide critical services to this vulnerable population, like legal assistance and even help navigating the city and its laws. Such services could help migrants acclimate to life in New York City and could ease complaints from neighbors of the hotels the city is using to house many migrants.The Adams administration has been warehousing asylum seekers instead of putting the country’s largest municipal government to work helping them build new lives, in New York or wherever else they may want to go. This summer the Adams administration printed fliers to dissuade migrants from seeking new lives in New York, leaflets that sum up the mayor’s overall approach and betray the promise and spirit of New York as a home for people from around the world.New York’s leaders are supposed to be different. The city’s voters didn’t intend to elect a mayor who acted like Greg Abbott, the Texas governor who sent migrants to cities across the country, including New York. Nor did they vote for someone like Gov. Ron DeSantis of Florida, the presidential candidate who used asylum seekers for political sport, flying them to the resort island of Martha’s Vineyard in Massachusetts at taxpayer expense just to own the libs.New York can do better.First, it seems clear that Gov. Kathy Hochul of New York needs to step in and demonstrate the concern lacking from City Hall. It may be in the best interest of both taxpayers and the asylum seekers for the governor to name an expert manager to oversee the crisis, which is clearly too much for the mayor to handle — a kind of New York asylum czar.That wouldn’t free Mr. Adams to simply throw up his hands and walk away from the obligations the city has to these tens of thousands of people, whether they turn out to be temporary guests or newly minted New Yorkers.The mayor could make a big difference quickly by welcoming established nonprofit groups — not no-bid profiteers — to provide critical services where migrants are being housed. Those services should include English-language classes, as well as basic job certification courses to help asylum seekers find work.Despite Mr. Adams’s cold approach, many nonprofits and private volunteers and some municipal workers are engaged in this humanitarian work. In one small example, Dr. Theodore G. Long, a senior vice president at the city’s public hospital system, noticed many meals at the facilities used to house migrants weren’t being eaten, so he conducted a survey to find out why. The results? “We swapped out roast beef and did Italian food instead,” he told me. “I figured, let’s ask people what they want instead of guessing.”That’s the kind of welcome a city of immigrants provides.The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Twitter (@NYTopinion) and Instagram. More

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    Can Brandon Presley Help Mississippi Break from the Past?

    It’s been 23 years since a Democrat was elected governor of Mississippi and 41 years since a Democrat was elected one of the state’s U.S. senators. The Republican lock on the state — along with the policies and noxious traditions that have kept it in the basement among U.S. states for most indicators of social health — sometimes seems impenetrable.Mike Espy, the former Democratic congressman from Mississippi and U.S. agriculture secretary, tried twice to become senator, in 2018 and 2020, but never got more than 46 percent of the vote. Jim Hood, then state attorney general, did a little better in the 2019 governor’s race, getting nearly 47 percent of the vote, but the current Republican governor, Tate Reeves, prevailed.This year, with Mr. Reeves up for re-election in November, there are once again hopes that Mississippi could take a few steps up from the bottom and elect a governor willing to make a break from the past. And even though Donald Trump won the state by more than 16 percentage points in 2020, there are reasons to think it could happen.For one thing, thanks to a significant scandal involving the misappropriation of welfare funds, Mr. Reeves is extraordinarily unpopular for an incumbent Republican, with 60 percent of voters saying they would prefer another candidate, according to a Mississippi Today/Siena College poll that came out last week. For another, he has a promising and energetic Democratic opponent named Brandon Presley who has been polling fairly well and is making a strong case that the state desperately needs a change, advocating a series of popular policies that could make a real difference in the lives of Mississippians, particularly those on the lower economic rungs. The contest is already turning into one of the most interesting races of 2023.Mr. Presley, 45, is one of three elected members of the state Public Service Commission, which regulates utilities, and is the former mayor of Nettleton, a small town in the bright-red northeast section of Mississippi. He talks energetically about the need to expand Medicaid and save rural hospitals, and why it’s important to eliminate the extremely regressive state grocery tax, and would rather discuss the lives of poor families than his own family ties to a certain popular singer of the same last name from Tupelo, up the road from Nettleton. (Elvis was his second cousin.)His most effective tactic is his unrelenting attack on Mr. Reeves and the welfare scandal that has swirled around him and the previous Republican governor, Phil Bryant. A 2020 state audit found that as much as $94 million in federal anti-poverty money was improperly diverted to two nonprofit groups that used it for favors to lobbyists, celebrities and some lawmakers. The celebrities included Brett Favre, the former N.F.L. quarterback, who, according to text messages uncovered by the nonprofit news site Mississippi Today, arranged to spend $5 million in welfare funds for a volleyball stadium at the University of Southern Mississippi, his alma mater. At the same time, the state was rejecting a large majority of requests from families for Mississippi’s meager $170 a month in welfare payments.Mr. Reeves was lieutenant governor when all this was going on, and several people at the center of the scandal have been his friends and supporters. Last summer, his administration fired the lawyer who had been officially assigned to investigate the scandal and recoup the money, after the lawyer issued a subpoena to the university’s athletic foundation regarding the volleyball money. Though Mr. Reeves hasn’t been implicated in the diversion of most of the money, Mississippi Today published text messages in August showing that the former state welfare director, who pleaded guilty to federal and state fraud and theft charges last fall, said he was acting on behalf of Mr. Reeves when he siphoned $1.3 million of the welfare money to a fitness program run by the governor’s longtime personal trainer, Paul LaCoste.That was all Mr. Presley needed.“I got in this when I saw, as all Mississippi did, millions of dollars aimed at working families got diverted by Tate Reeves and his cronies,” he told me last week. “His own personal trainer, who taught Tate Reeves how to do jumping jacks, got a $70,000 vehicle and was paid $11,000 a month, while we’ve got children going hungry in Mississippi. Well, it made me want to puke.”Mr. Presley is funny and garrulous and is often described as the best natural politician in the state, with an easygoing manner that appeals to voters of all types. He grew up as the son of a low-income single mother and speaks with real empathy about the tens of thousands of poor families, Black and white, who can’t get clean drinking water, proper health care or broadband internet after decades of largely racist neglect by the state.His most significant plan is to fully expand Medicaid in Mississippi, which Mr. Reeves — along with Republicans in nine other states, mostly in the South — refuses to do. As The New York Times recently reported, health care is in a serious crisis in the state, where five hospitals have closed since 2005 and 36 percent of the remaining rural hospitals are at risk of closing from lack of funds. Mississippi’s stubbornness has cost it about $1.35 billion a year in federal funds to hospitals and health care providers, money that could be used for 100,000 poor adults who now have no guaranteed health coverage.“This will go down in history one of the dumbest decisions ever made in this state,” Mr. Presley said. “Our health care system is on fire because Tate Reeves is not willing to help working Mississippians, just because of some petty, cheap, childish politics.”The state has a $3.9 billion budget surplus and could easily afford its 10 percent share of the expansion cost, but Mr. Reeves would rather use the money to help prosperous earners by getting rid of the income tax, which most low-income people do not pay. Mr. Presley, on the other hand, is campaigning to eliminate the grocery tax, which at 7 percent is the highest in the nation and hurts poor people the most. Though he is too politic to say so, the grocery tax is yet another legacy of Mississippi’s structural racism, which helps explain why there is more hunger in the state than in any other.Polling shows that nearly 60 percent of state voters say they will support only a candidate for governor who wants to get rid of the grocery tax, and 55 percent will support only a candidate who wants to expand Medicaid. But that same poll shows Mr. Reeves ahead of Mr. Presley by 11 points. (The Presley campaign says its internal polling shows the race to be within the margin of error.) To a large degree, that contradiction can be explained by rote party identification in the state, but it’s also because nearly two-thirds of voters don’t know enough about Mr. Presley yet, particularly in African American areas.“In those neighborhoods, he’s still a white guy that nobody knows,” said State Representative Robert L. Johnson III, the House Democratic leader, who is Black and has been supportive of Mr. Presley. “But he’s not afraid to embrace the African American vote in this state. He’s made commitments to do things that other candidates don’t do. It’s early yet, but the governor has been so bad that I think this time might be different.”Mr. Presley has won the endorsement of Bennie Thompson, the Democratic congressman from Jackson who carries a lot of weight among Black voters, and he has one new advantage: In 2020, voters abolished the Jim Crow-era requirement that candidates for governor have to win not only the popular vote but also the most votes in a majority of the 122 state House districts, a law intended to keep Black candidates out of statewide offices. (Mr. Reeves did not support the repeal.)“I think he can win,” Mr. Espy told me. “He’s very likable, a good retail politician, and Tate Reeves is so very, very unpopular. But he’s got a big job. He needs to raise the money and do more Black outreach.”Mr. Presley said his campaign would do everything possible to get a high turnout among Black voters, noting that the issues he cares about, particularly Medicaid and the grocery tax, resonate well in those precincts.One thing that he doesn’t bring up that much, unless asked, is his support for Mississippi’s extremely restrictive abortion law, which bans abortion unless the mother’s life is in danger or the pregnancy was caused by rape. That law has an outsize effect on low-income women who can’t afford to travel outside the state for an abortion.Mr. Presley described himself as “pro-life and Christian.” But he quickly said that to him, being “pro-life” means being pro-hospital, pro-doctor and pro-emergency room, supporting full funding of the state education budget and ending the scams that have prevented federal and state welfare money from going to the families who need it.His position on abortion and his support for gun rights will not win him many friends in the national Democratic Party, but Mississippi is not like the rest of the nation. Winning there and finally beginning to reverse the detestable policies of the past — an enormously difficult task — will require a candidate who can bring together an unusual coalition of voters with very different interests, and Mr. Presley may be the one to do it. It’s been done next door in Louisiana, where Gov. John Bel Edwards is a Democrat in a similar mold, and if it can happen in Mississippi, it might bring hope to thousands of other voters who have ceaselessly struggled for better lives in the Deep South.The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Twitter (@NYTopinion) and Instagram. More

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    Unapologetic Black Power in the South

    I’m a strong advocate of Black reverse migration — Black people returning to Southern states from cities in the North and West in order to concentrate political power.This reverse migration was already happening before my advocacy, and it continues. As the demographer William H. Frey wrote for the Brookings Institution in September, the reversal “began as a trickle in the 1970s, increased in the 1990s, and turned into a virtual evacuation from many Northern areas in subsequent decades.”There are many reasons for this reversal, primarily economic, but I specifically propose adding the accrual of political power — statewide political power — to the mix.One of the ways that people often push back on what I’m proposing is to worry aloud about the opposition and backlash to a rising Black population and power base in Southern states.Well, Georgia is providing a proving ground for this debate in real life.I heard so many people after the Georgia runoff in which Raphael Warnock defeated Herschel Walker who said some version of “Yes, but it was still too close.”It seemed to me that those comments — and many others — missed the bigger point: Something absolutely historic is happening in Georgia that portends a massive political realignment for several Southern states.Georgia voters proved this year that the historic election of a Black senator from a Southern state by a coalition led in many ways by Black people was not a fluke.And that coalition sent Warnock back to the Senate in the face of fierce opposition. Not only did the Georgia state legislature and Gov. Brian Kemp do their best to suppress voters — a tactic almost always designed to marginalize nonwhite voters — but Republicans also turned out in droves to try to retain power that they see slipping from their grasp.Furthermore, in the general election, Black turnout was down. According to Nate Cohn, the Black share of the electorate fell to its lowest level since 2006.But then in the runoff, when the choice was narrowed and sharpened, the Warnock coalition bounced back, stronger and defiant.According to the Georgia secretary of state’s office, Black voters only account for 29 percent of registered active voters in the state. During early voting, Black voters outperformed. They went to the polls to prove a point. They voted to flex. According to a Pew Research Center report, the number of Black people registered to vote in Georgia increased 25 percent from 2016 to 2020, a far larger increase than any other racial group.Yes, many, like me, were offended by the presence of Walker as the alternative, and were voting as much to defy Walker as to affirm Warnock.But even there, I think we have to step back, take a breath, and soberly assess how historic his presence was. The power structure in Georgia was so shocked by what this Black-led coalition had done that they allowed Donald Trump to foist a thoroughly unqualified Black Republican on them, thinking that he would help them win back power.Georgia Republicans thought they could fracture the Black vote. They couldn’t. It held strong and united.There is a great, nearly inexpressible exhilaration in this realization as a Black citizen and voter. Black people and other minorities weren’t simply being called upon to tip the balance when white voters split down the middle. Every other Black senator in American history has been elected by a coalition led by white liberals. Warnock is the first elected by a coalition led by Black people.Black people were leading the charge in his election, and he was solid, bright and competent. This startling new reality of electoral politics demolished any lingering lies about inferior Black leadership or intemperate Black voters. Black voters want what any other voter should want: solid leaders who are responsive to them.Some may look at the defeat of Stacey Abrams in the governor’s race and see it as a sign of caution, that the “Old South” is alive and well. But I see it differently. Power will not be passively relinquished. Those with it will fight like hell to retain it. And in that power struggle, they will win some of the battles.Each election will depend on candidates and campaigns. The race between Kemp and Abrams is not a predictor of what is possible. Black voters in Georgia keep reminding themselves what’s possible when they focus their attention and effort as they did in this runoff.That kind of engagement — and the reward of winning — is psychologically powerful. Once a people taste power, state power, it seems to me that it will be hard to turn away from it. Having it begins to feel normal and expected.That is a reality that many in this country have feared for centuries. That is a reality that I now relish.The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook and Twitter (@NYTopinion), and Instagram. More

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    The U.S. Thinks ‘It Can’t Happen Here.’ It Already Has.

    The move from democracy to autocracy isn’t a sudden shift. It is not a switch that flips from light to dark with nothing in between. But it’s also not quite right to call the path to authoritarianism a journey. To use a metaphor of travel or distance is to suggest something external, removed, foreign.It is better, in the U.S. context at least, to think of authoritarianism as something like a contradiction nestled within the American democratic tradition. It is part of the whole, a reflection of the fact that American notions of freedom and liberty are deeply informed by both the experience of slaveholding and the drive to seize land and expel its previous inhabitants.As the historian Edmund Morgan once wrote of the Virginians who helped lead the fight for Anglo-American independence, “The presence of men and women who were, in law at least, almost totally subject to the will of other men gave to those in control of them an immediate experience of what it could mean to be at the mercy of a tyrant.” Virginians, he continued, “may have had a special appreciation of the freedom dear to republicans, because they saw every day what life without it could be like.”Similarly, the legal scholar Aziz Rana observed that for many Anglo-Americans in the 18th century, freedom was an “exclusivist ideal, accessible only to Anglo-Saxons and select Europeans, whose heritage, land practices and religion made them particularly suited to self-rule. Such exclusivism presupposed that settler security, as well as more grandiose dreams of utopian peace, required the subordination of internal and external enemies, who threatened Anglo social and political supremacy.” Freedom and domination, he wrote, were “bound together.”This duality is present in our federal Constitution, which proclaims republican liberty at the same time that it has enabled the brutal subjugation of entire peoples within the United States. The Constitution both inspired the democratic vistas of radical antislavery politicians and backstopped the antebellum dream of a transcontinental slave empire.Move a little closer to the present and you can see clearly how American democracy and American autocracy have existed side by side, with the latter just another feature of our political order. If we date the beginning of Jim Crow to the 1890s — when white Southern politicians began to mandate racial separation and when the Supreme Court affirmed it — then close to three generations of American elites lived with and largely accepted the existence of a political system that made a mockery of American ideals of self-government and the rule of law.It was a system that, as the legal scholar and former judge Margaret A. Burnham wrote in “By Hands Now Known: Jim Crow’s Legal Executioners,” rested on “the chronic, unpredictable violence that loomed over everyday Black life.” In one of many such episodes detailed in the book, Burnham recounts the last moments of Henry Williams, a Black G.I. killed in 1942 by an Alabama bus driver named Grover Chandler for what Chandler perceived as “impudence on the part of the young soldier.” Rushing to escape the bus after being assaulted by the driver, Williams spilled his laundry on the ground. “As he turned to pick it up, Chandler fired three shots, one hitting Williams in the back of the head. He died instantly right there on Chandler’s bus.”All of this took place while the United States was fighting a war for democracy in Europe. Which is to say that for most of this country’s history, America’s democratic institutions and procedures and ideals existed alongside forms of exclusion, domination and authoritarianism. Although we’ve taken real strides toward making this a less hierarchical country, with a more representative government, there is no iron law of history that says that progress will continue unabated or that the authoritarian tradition in American politics won’t reassert itself.If we do see even greater democratic backsliding than we’ve already experienced over the past decade — since the advent of Donald Trump, yes, but also since the decimation of the Voting Rights Act in Shelby County v. Holder — there’s no reason to think that most elites, and most people, won’t accommodate themselves to the absence of democracy for many of their fellow Americans. After a time, that absence of democracy may become just the regular order of things — a regrettable custom that nonetheless should more or less be left alone because of federalism or limited government. That, in fact, is how many politicians, journalists and intellectuals rationalized autocracy in the South and reconciled it with their belief that the United States was a free country.In his 1909 biography of John Brown, W.E.B. Du Bois reflected on the legacy of the antislavery martyr with an observation about what it does to a society to tolerate exploitation, degradation and unfreedom. “The price of repression is greater than the cost of liberty,” he wrote. “The degradation of men costs something both to the degraded and those who degrade.”American traditions of authoritarianism have shaped American traditions of democracy in that they frame our ideas of who, exactly, can enjoy American freedom and American liberty. They degrade our moral sense and make it easier to look away from those who suffer under the worst of the state or those who are denied the rights they were promised as members of our national community.As we look to a November in which a number of vocal election deniers are poised to win powerful positions in key swing states, I think that the great degree to which authoritarianism is tied up in the American experience — and the extent to which we’ve been trained not to see it, in accordance with our national myths and sense of exceptionalism — makes it difficult for many Americans to really believe that democracy as we know it could be in serious danger.In other words, too many Americans still think it can’t happen here, when the truth is that it already has and may well again.The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Twitter (@NYTopinion) and Instagram. More

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    The Painful History of the Georgia Voting Law

    Republicans today know that blocking access to the ballot has always relied on legal maneuvering and political schemes.Seventy-five years ago this July, a World War II veteran named Maceo Snipes reportedly became the first Black man to cast a ballot in his rural Georgia county. The next day, a white man shot him in his front yard, and Mr. Snipes would soon afterward die from those wounds.Fortunately, three generations removed from the political reign of terror that claimed Mr. Snipes’s life, voter suppression seems much less likely to arrive by bullet. But we may not be as distant in our political moment from theirs as we might think: The long struggle to block access to the ballot has always relied on legal maneuvering and political schemes to achieve what bullets and bombs alone could not.What legislators in Georgia and across the country have reminded us is that backlash to expanded voting rights has often arrived by a method that our eras share in common: by laws, like Georgia’s Senate Bill 202, passed by elected politicians.Opponents of the new Georgia law denounce the legislation as “Jim Crow 2.0” precisely because they recognize the continuities between past and present. The bill’s most ardent supporters, who lined up in front of a painting of a building on the site of an antebellum plantation to watch Gov. Brian Kemp sign it into law, seem less interested in distancing themselves from that past and more eager for Americans to forget it.“Our country has changed,” Chief Justice John Roberts explained in 2013 in defending the Supreme Court’s gutting a key provision of the Voting Rights Act in Shelby County v. Holder, a decision that helped clear the way for the current voter suppression campaigns. Yet the riot at the U.S. Capitol makes clear that concerted efforts to sow seeds of distrust in the democratic process can still stoke violent reaction.The methods in the fight against voting rights have a common objective — an electorate narrowed along predictable and demonstrable fault lines. Many present-day proponents of voting restrictions are quick to distance themselves from the racist aims and attitudes of their forebears, but the most durable and enduring attacks on voting rights have long cloaked their goals in race-neutral language — at least in writing.Historians like Carol Anderson demonstrate that attempts to limit ballot access have followed in the wake of mass political mobilization and in response to federal efforts to protect or expand voting rights. At the time Mr. Snipes was killed, the U.S. Supreme Court had recently invalidated the white primary, a disenfranchisement tactic that locked Black voters out of the only election that really mattered because of one-party rule in the “Solid South.” The N.A.A.C.P., which grew from 50,000 to approximately half a million members during World War II, spearheaded the legal challenge to the white primary and grass-roots voter registration drives across the South. Anticipating that Black voters would flood the polls in 1946, Eugene Talmadge, the ex-governor running for the office again, mobilized supporters to ward off threats from local activists and federal action alike.Mr. Talmadge egged on supporters who intimidated and attacked Black voters, but his most enduring and effective tactics look much more like present-day voter suppression tactics. As the Emory researcher Hannah Charak has documented, Mr. Talmadge quietly collaborated with sympathetic local officials on illegal registration purges and blanketed the state with “challenge forms” that white residents could use to dispute Black votes.Voter suppression tactics like literacy tests and Georgia’s infamous county unit system delivered racist leadership like Mr. Talmadge (and his son) while withstanding legal challenges and Supreme Court rulings for decades in part because such measures commonly avoided mention of race.If we remember Georgia’s extremist enemies of democracy for the violence they inspired, then today’s advocates of voter suppression may well expect history to reflect favorably on their relative restraint. Yet even as many supporters of Georgia’s new voting restrictions seek to distance themselves from the violence at the Capitol, they invoke unproven claims of voter fraud and the passions they provoke as a pretext for their legislative actions — political cover for those who claim the high ground of “electoral reform.”Georgia is now a far cry from the one-party politics of Jim Crow, and its increasingly diverse population challenges the power of the overwhelmingly white and disproportionately rural ruling class that has held sway for nearly all of the state’s history — thanks in large part to an unending stream of voter suppression schemes.The ruling logic that drives those efforts, spanning generations and a dramatic shift in party affiliation, is the conviction that America would be better off if fewer Americans voted. Perhaps it is time not only to focus on those who say the quiet parts out loud but to remember that the quiet parts have been there all along.Jason Morgan Ward, a professor of history at Emory University, is the author of “Defending White Democracy: The Making of a Segregationist Movement and the Remaking of Racial Politics, 1936-1965” and, most recently, “Hanging Bridge: Racial Violence and America’s Civil Rights Century.”The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Twitter (@NYTopinion) and Instagram. More

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    Should Black Northerners Move Back to the South?

    #masthead-section-label, #masthead-bar-one { display: none }What to ReadNew Books to Watch For This Month25 Book Review GreatsNew in PaperbackListen: The Book Review PodcastAdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main storynonfictionShould Black Northerners Move Back to the South?Campaigning in GeorgiaCredit…Doug Mills/The New York TimesAmazonApple BooksBarnes and NobleBooks-A-MillionBookshopIndieboundWhen you purchase an independently reviewed book through our site, we earn an affiliate commission.March 2, 2021, 5:00 a.m. ETTHE DEVIL YOU KNOWA Black Power ManifestoBy Charles M. BlowLeading up to the 2020 presidential election, Stacey Abrams, LaTosha Brown and other grass-roots activists successfully registered an unprecedented number of Black voters in Georgia who had been stymied in the past by voter-suppression tactics. Their work brought key victories to Democratic candidates in the state and demonstrated the political power of Southern Black women.Georgia’s recent presidential and Senate elections are relevant to the argument of the New York Times columnist Charles M. Blow in “The Devil You Know: A Black Power Manifesto.” There are two Black Americas, he says. One is the world of those who remained in the postslavery South. The other is inhabited by those who fled the South for refuge in what he terms “destination cities” across the North and West during the Great Migration. But these cities are now broken, according to Blow, and the Great Migration has been a “stinging failure.” Blow, a son of Louisiana who recently moved back south — to Atlanta — says Black Americans must bridge this divide.In what he believes would be “the most audacious power play by Black America in the history of the country,” Blow calls for African-Americans to reverse-migrate south, to collectively dismantle white supremacy by using their ancestral homeland as a political base. He imagines a New South where “our trauma history is not our total history.” That Black people have been returning south for at least the past 40 years, he adds, demonstrates that there is fertile ground for his idea in the region, intellectually and materially.His is a familiar argument, revitalized by the South’s recent political developments. A genesis for Blow’s Black power proposition could have been the Black Belt nation thesis, proposed by Black Communists in the 1920s, or the agenda of the Republic of New Afrika in the 1960s. But Blow instead builds upon the political thought of the freethinking white hippies who moved to Vermont in the early 1970s with the intent of transforming the state’s conservative electoral politics. They succeeded, he says; young Black people today should follow their blueprint.Seeing Georgia flip blue in the 2020 election became Blow’s “proof of concept,” and for him, one thing now seems clear: The path to lasting Black power is through the vote. Forming a “contiguous band” of Black voters across the South — Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia and South Carolina, in particular — would “upend America’s political calculus and exponentially increase” Black citizens’ influence in American politics. The weakness in Blow’s plan is that it requires faith in a political system that has consistently failed Black Americans at nearly every turn.For Blow, however, the reality that Black Northerners have no recourse but to leave is a painful truth that crystallized for him one night in 2015 when he learned that his son, a student at Yale, had been stopped at gunpoint by a university police officer. Stories like this fuel the book’s searing account of police violence, systemic racial disparities and social unrest in cities like New York, Minneapolis and Portland. This is where Blow is at his best.As a historian, I wish he had spent more time exploring the nuances of the Black migration framework the book hinges upon. Blow’s claim that the Great Migration “hit the South like a bomb,” causing an intellectual and cultural brain drain that stunted its growth, rings hollow. It obscures the truth that the region was an incubator of radical political activism — often led by its most disenfranchised citizens — during the Great Migration and beyond. The New South to which Blow is now beckoning people to return was created largely by the Black visionaries and community builders who remained in the rural and urban South.A strength of “The Devil You Know” is its affirmation of Black Americans as a formidable political bloc with whom the nation must reckon. The book is a helpful introduction for those seeking to make sense of fractious political debates about race and voting rights in the South, and the broken promises of American democracy.AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More