Black Americans born in the early 1990s have emerged as politically engaged individuals, particularly highlighted during the Black Lives Matter movement which intensified during the 2016 Democratic presidential primary. This group criticized the Democratic Party for its role in the mass incarceration of African Americans, linking it to systemic racism.
A significant aspect of this discourse stems from the Controlled Substances Act of 1970, which established stringent federal laws against specified drugs. While powder cocaine became an illicit substance associated predominantly with affluent users, crack cocaine emerged as a more affordable variant, widely consumed in low-income neighborhoods. However, legislation did not differentiate between powder and crack cocaine.
The early 1980s saw what has been termed the “crack epidemic,” which had devastating effects on inner-city communities. In 1986, Congress, with a Democratic majority, enacted laws that imposed equal sentencing for possession of just 5 grams of crack as for 500 grams of powder cocaine. For the newer generation of Black activists, this stark disparity illustrated systemic discrimination necessitating redress from the Democratic Party.
During a pivotal moment at a campaign rally for Democratic frontrunner Hillary Clinton, Black Lives Matter activists confronted former President Bill Clinton. They called him out for backing the discriminatory crack/powder sentencing laws and accused him of facilitating the mass incarceration of impoverished Black individuals through the 1994 crime bill.
Clinton responded by asserting that the 1994 crime bill aimed to combat gangs that he claimed were responsible for the deaths of many Black children. He defended the crime bill by highlighting its role in achieving a 25-year reduction in crime rates and a historic low in murder rates. Clinton challenged the activists’ claims, suggesting they were defending those who harmed their community.
This interaction highlighted a generational clash, with newer Black activists relying on a version of history that painted the Democratic Party as responsible for enacting racist policies during the 1980s and 1990s. The recent retirement of U.S. Rep. Charles Rangel after 46 years in Congress further exemplified this shift, as many young activists did not recognize Rangel’s legacy, viewing him instead as a significant contributor to mass incarceration.
Upon Rangel’s death at 94, media tributes celebrated him as a founding member of the Congressional Black Caucus, whereas younger activists acknowledged his “evolution” from proponent of the “war on drugs” to an advocate for drug law reforms. This notion of evolution suggests that Rangel’s earlier stance was simplistic and that he eventually gained a more enlightened understanding.
However, the younger activists’ perspective considered Rangel as the “Black face of White supremacy,” attributing him a crucial role in perpetuating harmful drug laws that disproportionally affected poor Black communities. They contented that his significant contribution was recognizing the racism underlying the drug laws he once endorsed and working towards rectifying the resulting consequences.
Interestingly, this generation of activists challenges the concept of “Black-on-Black crime,” suggesting it is a myth. They assert that most crimes occur intra-racially, similarly to white populations, and that the term “Black-on-Black crime” is rooted in American racism. Consequently, it perpetuates the stereotype that Black individuals are more prone to criminality than other groups. This stems from a historical context that many younger activists misinterpret.
The term originated during the civil unrest of the 1960s, described as “Black-on-Black” to highlight incidents of violence against property, often overlooking the plight of Black victims who were neglected by the police. However, the new wave of activists struggle to situate Rangel’s support for stricter crack penalties properly within this historical landscape.
The crack epidemic not only signified an increase in drug usage but also correlated with a spike in violent crime unprecedented in communities afflicted by crack cocaine. The violent incidents like assaults and homicides disproportionately impacted inner-city Black neighborhoods, prompting Rangel to advocate for harsher penalties based on community demands. Their reasoning was that tougher consequences would deter drug dealing and reduce violence, a rationale that omitted the drug’s addictive nature and profitability.
New Black activists, who deem heavier penalties as the “new Jim Crow,” now have the opportunity to utilize their experiences from the Covid-19 lockdowns to provide some clarity about the government’s response to the crack epidemic in the mid-1980s. Just as state governments responded to an unfamiliar virus without proven solutions in real time, they implemented measures without fully anticipating their long-term impacts. Many Americans supported these actions in the moment, yet later criticized them for being excessive once the unintended consequences became known.
This parallel illustrates that governments often navigate immediate crises, focusing on alleviating urgent threats rather than considering the broader implications of their decisions. Rangel’s response to the unintended fallout from the drug laws of the 1980s and 1990s reflects the adjustments made in light of challenges presented in different eras.
As Rangel recognized the negative repercussions of the policies he once advocated for and sought to amend them, it is crucial to understand that he did not simply “evolve” from a misguided perspective to a more accurate understanding. Instead, he confronted one crisis while addressing subsequent issues in another time frame.
As these new Black activists continue to analyze history and its implications, one hopes they can eventually embrace a more nuanced view when discussing the legacy of figures like Charles Rangel.
image source from：chicagodefender
