This is an opinion column.
I’ve written about the Alabamafication of America enough, by now I should have a cogent explanation for what it is. But for some reason, whenever the question has come up, I’ve filibustered through every answer like a French philosopher trying to explain the postmodern.
Alabama will not be subjected to your “terms” and “definitions.”
But really, it’s not that complicated. It’s easy to understand. To get there, though, we have to look at the closing act of Richard Shelby — and who waits to replace him.
Shelby does not represent the Alabamafication of American politics, but rather an example of what came before — the political transfer of larger American wealth to Alabama.
An old yellow dog Democrat who jumped to the Republican Party, Shelby has represented Alabama in Washington longer than most folks have been alive. Shelby’s tenure gave him tremendous influence — power he used to steer federal dollars to Alabama.
Universities have benefited from his influence, as did road builders and defense contractors. Even the old Iron Man on top of Red Mountain reaped the rewards of Shelby’s appropriations. When the senator earmarked $3.5 million for the renovation of Birmingham’s Vulcan statue, Sen. John McCain threw a snit-fit.
“Not one more federal dollar should be spent on this kind of foolishness,” McCain said during the Senate debate in 2001. “I ask my colleagues to extinguish this Roman god of fire - strike a victory for taxpayers.”
The final vote was 87-12. Shelby got the money and Birmingham got a renovated Vulcan Park.
“I will never apologize for my efforts,” Shelby said then. “Alabama’s economic development, infrastructure and community needs are my top priority.”
I’d love to give you a dollar figure for how many billions Shelby has brought home to Alabama, but I don’t know how anyone could account for so much. It’s a river of federal funding that has kept an otherwise poor state from running dry, and a flow of cash that, with Shelby’s retirement, could be coming to an end.
Even 20 years ago, Shelby’s politics of pork was something from an earlier age. Despite all he brought home, Alabama’s most popular senator was not Shelby, but the state’s junior member, Jeff Sessions.
Sessions never did nearly as much for Alabama’s balance sheet as Shelby, but he consistently polled better. His popularity seemed to stem from his pet causes — fearmongering about immigration and fighting a war on drugs that had the added political benefit of hurting African-Americans a lot more than it hurt white people.
Racial politics were not new in Alabama, but even George Wallace didn’t dare survive on racist appeals alone, as is evidenced by the community colleges and correctional facilities scattered throughout our state.
But Sessions tried. He rose higher and faster. And he rode that rocket right into the sun.
In contrast, Shelby distanced himself from Trumpism and said on TV he wouldn’t vote for Roy Moore.
Putting their careers next to each other, Shelby and Sessions should serve as case studies in what works and what doesn’t. They should, but I’m not sure they do.
Because just about everybody who’s handicapped Alabama’s next Senate race has picked Rep. Mo Brooks as the front runner. And if they’re right, then the Shelby/Sessions lesson hasn’t been learned.
When Brooks ran for Congress in 2010, Sessions endorsed him as a candidate that would be anything but quiet and boring.
“We need a fighter, we don’t need a potted plant,” Sessions said then. “We need somebody who will stand up, who’s got convictions, who understands the rule of law like Mo Brooks.”
Brooks has taken many of the same things that made Sessions popular — fearmongering of immigrants and racist “law and order” rhetoric — and refined it to its purest form. He’s turned it into a drug so potent that its users have been known to storm capitols while dressed like Vikings.
This is what Alabamafication is: The steady replacement of productive-but-boring Shelbys with exploitive and self-aggrandizing Brookses. It’s our broken system.
The fundamental problem of Alabama politics (and American politics) is that it’s become more difficult, if not impossible, to achieve name recognition and popularity by quietly doing the hard work to improve the lives of Alabamians or Americans. Instead, we are stuck in a feedback loop that makes measurable results irrelevant and rewards extremism. It’s easier now to climb the ladder to higher office by acting a fool.
So fools are what we get.
Kyle Whitmire is the state political columnist for the Alabama Media Group.
You can follow his work on his Facebook page, The War on Dumb. And on Twitter. And on Instagram.
More columns by Kyle Whitmire
Alabama lawmaker has a health care plan — for lawmakers, not you
Alabama prison plan went from $900 million to $3.7 billion. How? That’s still a secret.
What have you done now, Tommy Tuberville?
Here’s the scariest thing about Mo Brooks
Want healing, Kay Ivey? Repeal the monuments law.
Alabama’s Three Stooges. And Shemp.
Alabama owes Richard Shelby a big thank you. Doug Jones, too.
Mo Brooks knows he’s lying. Just ask Mo Brooks.
Mo Brooks didn’t shout fire. He started it.
Why is this taking so long? Failure and a big, big number
The Link LonkFebruary 10, 2021 at 08:51PM
https://ift.tt/3rJw64y
Richard Shelby, Mo Brooks and the death of Alabama pork politics - AL.com
https://ift.tt/2RsHZwT
Pork
No comments:
Post a Comment