The big question is why. Carol Moseley-Braun, the first African-American woman senator, recently declared her long-shot candidacy for the 2004 Democratic presidential nomination.
Moseley-Braun, D-Ill., squeezed her way into the Senate and national history in 1992, in the wake of the contentious elevation of Justice Clarence Thomas to the U.S. Supreme Court. But she lost her seat six years later because of a number of missteps. Her personal relationship with her controversial 1992 campaign manager and later office aide, Kgosie Matthews, raised eyebrows, especially after he was subsequently accused of sexual harassment of campaign workers, a charge he denied.
While in office, Moseley-Braun adopted a number of policies and stances that many supporters found distressing. During the debate over the 1994 crime bill, she offered an unsuccessful proposal that would have lowered the age at which a minor could be tried as an adult. And her support of the former Nigerian dictator Gen. Sani Abacha further alienated her from her black and progressive constituents. Her relations with her black colleagues in the House were also strained. She attended very few meetings of the weekly Congressional Black Caucus -- embracing the Senate habit of refusing to go slumming over to the House side for cross-chamber meetings -- and generally did not demonstrate a great affinity for the black caucus program. At one point, she received a "C" grade from the NAACP on her legislative service.
After she lost, President Clinton rewarded her with an ambassadorship to New Zealand. For years, she has flirted with re-seeking her old Senate seat, but after several high-level consultations, she decided to go for the big enchilada. The campaign for the Democratic nomination is a brassy way of saying, "I'm back." Many believe Moseley-Braun's quest is merely a gauzy cover for a rear-guard maneuver against the Rev. Al Sharpton.
The firebrand New York minister and frequent candidate for office is emerging as this generation's advocate for blacks and other disenfranchised sectors, much in the same way the Rev. Jesse Jackson was during the 1980s. Moseley-Braun, the thinking goes, will cut into Sharpton's base. While Jackson had supporters of his Rainbow Coalition, significant backing from churches and trade unions and the juice to force concessions from the party, it will be difficult for the better known but controversial (to most whites and some blacks) Sharpton to amass similar enrichments. Nevertheless, Sharpton is expected to pinprick the Democrats on a range of liberal and progressive issues that otherwise would not emerge in the party's effort to find a politically watered-down candidate who can defeat President Bush. If Sharpton is in the debates, he will inject a level of discomfort around issues of race and poverty that is sorely needed.
But Sharpton's task, as formidable as it will be, would be nothing compared to the underfinanced, politically isolated, constituency-challenged, fringe-perceived campaign of Moseley-Braun. There is no reason to charge conspiracy, however. Ambition is its own motivation. To her credit, though, she is taking a notable and courageous stance against Bush's Iraq war. "In these difficult times for America, I believe women have a contribution to make to move our country toward peace, prosperity and progress," Moseley-Braun said as she joined the crowd of presidential hopefuls. Policy statements have been slow in coming, however. If Moseley-Braun is to move the electorate and the Democratic Party toward effective change, she will need to overcome unfavorable past perceptions and project a more elaborate notion of how the nation gets there.
Clarence Lusane is an assistant professor in the School of International Service at American University in Washington, D.C. He's the author of several works, including "Hitler's Black Victims" (Routledge Press, 2002). This column was produced for the Progressive Media Project, which is run by The Progressive magazine, and distributed by the Tribune News Service.