As Christians, how do we respond to women in leadership? If you believe most conservative black Baptists, we don’t. In many ways, Hillary Clinton made Barack Obama (and, by that logic, Sarah Palin) possible. The farther right John McCain turned, the more viable Hillary seemed. The more viable Hillary seemed, the more likely it seemed that the gender barrier to the White House may finally break, the less far-fetched Barack Obama's implausible insurgency seemed.
I
remember the exact moment Hillary Clinton
lost the 2008 presidential nomination. It was at
approximately 9:25 AM on February 7, 2006, a little less
than a year before she announced her presidential run in January
of 2007. Clinton sabotaged her campaign before it started by
choosing to speak at the funeral of our revered first lady of
African America, civil rights advocate Coretta Scott King. There
Clinton made the fatal error of following her husband, former
President Bill Clinton, on one of the best speeches to the
African American community any white person in history had
ever given. President Clinton was nothing short of luminous, the
highlight of the homegoing celebration. The goodwill flooding the former president was assigned by proxy to Senator Hillary
Clinton, who was surely going to run for the White House and
who, to that moment, had the black vote in her pocket.
President Clinton had said all that could or should possibly be
said about the late civil rights leader. All Hillary needed to
do was smile, wave, and sit down. I firmly believe, had she done
that, she would be president of the United States as I write
these words. Instead, she decided to take the stage herself,
following her husband’s over-long but deeply moving speech. And
the worst thing happened that could possibly have happened to
her: Black America realized, for the first time, that Hillary
was not Bill.
Which is not to say her speech was not appropriate or was not
good. It was both. But it came across as opportunistic and overtly political; Bill had spoken for the
Clinton family and, in the black church's staunchly patriarchal
hierarchy, that was both appropriate and sufficient.
Everyone else on the rostrum was a U.S. president. Hillary Clinton, a sitting U.S. Senator and one of
only two active office holders on the dais, standing at her
husband's side certainly seemed appropriate and, frankly, the optic was all she
actually needed. There was no need for her to actually *speak.*
After Bill brought down the house, Clinton could only lose by
speaking. There was nowhere for the energy to go but down, and a
savvier public speaker would have recognized that and aborted
the mission.
Her speaking only undermined her efforts to connect with the
black community because by actually speaking
she demonstrated how little Clinton actually understood our culture or where she was
(both literally and symbolically) standing at the moment. I mean, she might
as well have hugged a Hassidic Jew.
Had anyone familiar with the Black Church experience actually prepped Mrs. Clinton, she'd have known she had the crowd in the palm of her hand--right up to the moment she actually opened her mouth.
Had she simply said nothing, smiled and waved, she'd have won over the crowd and the overwhelming
majority of African America watching her at that moment.
Instead, she gave a speech, now seeming oddly out of place among the presidents,
arrogant for prematurely equating herself as their peer, and, in some ways,
disrespectful of her husband, Black America's Elvis. Worse,
rather than bond with Black America, she separated herself from
us by making the point Hillary was not Bill. That single opportunity
released Black America from what had, to that very moment, been
a kind of spell—assurance of locked-in brand loyalty. Hillary
Was Not Bill, which made it all right for us to consider
alternatives, something I myself had not actively done before
the King funeral. This is not something ever talked about in
mainstream political shows, many of them desperate to fill hours
with blather from various talking heads.
In many ways, Hillary Clinton made Barack Obama (and, by that
logic, Sarah Palin) possible. George
W. Bush’s presidency was such a historical disgrace and
unprecedented disaster that it was unlikely a Republican would
be elected to follow him. The more credible Hillary seemed, the
less far-fetched the much-ignored run of a first-term black
senator seemed. America, black and white, were not paying a lot
of attention to Barack Obama back in 2006. His campaign seemed
like a trial run for a 2012 or 2016 bid, which may have been why
Hillary warmly embraced him early on. But, the farther right GOP
frontrunner Senator John McCain moved, the more viable Hillary
seemed. The more viable Hillary seemed, the more likely it
seemed that the gender barrier to the White House may finally
break. 2008 began to shape up as a historic election teeming
with possibility.
What Hillary Clinton’s advisors may not have adequately factored
in: the more reasonable a woman candidate seemed, the more
reasonable a black candidate seemed. In other words, the more
successful Hillary was, the less absurd Obama as president
seemed. America began to adjust and prepare for a historic
election. Once that happened, it mattered not which barrier was
broken.
All of which is to speculate that Barack Obama walked boldly through doors Hillary Clinton opened. Clinton was the precedent-shatterer whose qualifications and experience meant she could not be denied equal footing in the presidential race. But her core constituency—Black America—moved to Obama the more credible the Illinois senator’s campaign became, which wounded Clinton in a big way. As we rewind the tape and reexamine the numbers and review the polls, I remain absolutely convinced the turning point, for Black America, was the King funeral and Mrs. Clinton’s flat, pedestrian, politically opportunist speech following her husband’s barn burner. That and the seeming inappropriateness of Hillary standing, as either a U.S. Senator, former First Lady or both, in the arena of presidents current and former. She should not have spoken. A wave, a smile, and I am convinced she would be president today.
