Newcomers are a challenge for Black caucus
The Congressional Black Caucus is the largest it has ever been, jumping to 57 members this year after a period of steady growth. The 50-year-old group, which includes most Black members of Congress and is entirely Democratic, is also more diverse, reflecting growing pockets of the Black electorate: millennials, progressives, suburban voters, those less tightly moored to the Democratic Party.
But while a thread of social justice connects one generation to the next, the influx of new members from varying backgrounds is testing the group’s long-held traditions in ways that could alter the future of Black political power in Washington.
The newcomers, shaped by the Black Lives Matter movement rather than the civil rights era, urge Democrats to go on the offensive regarding race and policing, pushing an affirmative message about how to overhaul public safety. They seek a bolder strategy on voting rights and greater investment in the recruitment and support of Black candidates.
Perhaps more significant than any ideological or age divide, however, is the caucus’ fault line of political origin stories — between those who made the Democratic establishment work for them and those who had to overcome the establishment to win.
Rep. James Clyburn, D-S.C., the most powerful Black lawmaker in the House, said the group still functions as a family. But that family has grown to include people such as Rep. Cori Bush of Missouri, an outspoken progressive who defeated a caucus member in a hotly contested primary last year, and Rep. Lauren Underwood of Illinois, whose district is overwhelmingly white.
“There was not a single member of the caucus, when I got there, that could have gotten elected in a congressional district that was only 4 percent African American,” Clyburn said, referring to Underwood.
“We didn’t have people in the caucus before who could stand up and say, ‘I know what it’s like to live in an automobile or be homeless,’” he said of Bush, whose recent days-long sit-in on the Capitol steps pushed President Joe Biden’s administration to extend an eviction moratorium.
In interviews, more than 20 people close to the CBC — including several members, their senior aides and other Democrats who have worked with the group — described the shifting dynamics of the leading organization of Black power players in Washington.
The caucus is a firm part of the Democratic establishment, close to House leadership and the relationship-driven world of political consulting and campaigns. However, unlike other groups tied to party leaders, the caucus is perhaps the country’s most public coalition of civil rights stalwarts, ostensibly responsible for ensuring that an insider game shaped by whiteness can work for Black people.
Today, the CBC has swelling ranks and a president who has said he owes his election to Black Democrats. There is a strong chance that when House Speaker Nancy Pelosi eventually steps down, her successor will be a member of the group. At the same time, the new lawmakers and their supporters are challenging the group with a simple question: Whom should the Congressional Black Caucus be for?
The group’s leadership and political action committee have typically focused on supporting Black incumbents and their congressional allies in reelection efforts. But other members, especially progressive ones, call for a more combative activist streak, such as Bush’s, that challenges the Democratic Party in the name of Black people. Moderate members in swing districts, who reject progressive litmus tests such as defunding police departments or supporting a Green New Deal, say the caucus is behind on the nuts and bolts of modern campaigning and remains too pessimistic about Black candidates’ chances in predominantly white districts.
Many new CBC members, even those whose aides discussed their frustration in private, declined to comment on the record for this report.
The leadership of the caucus, including the current chair, Rep. Joyce Beatty of Ohio, did not respond to requests for comment.
Miti Sathe, a founder of Square One Politics, a political firm used by Underwood and other successful Black candidates including Rep. Lucy McBath of Georgia, said she had often wondered why the caucus was not a greater ally on the campaign trail.
She recounted how Underwood, a former CBC intern who was the only Black candidate in her race, did not receive the caucus’ initial endorsement.
In Underwood’s race, “we tried many times to have conversations with them, to get their support and to get their fundraising lists, and they declined,” Sathe said.
Political strategy is often the dividing line among members, rather than policy. The Clyburn-led veterans have hugged close to Pelosi to rise through the ranks and believe younger members should follow their example. They have taken a zero-tolerance stance toward primary challengers to Democratic incumbents. They have recently pushed for a pared-down approach to voting rights legislation, attacking proposals for public financing of campaigns and independent redistricting committees, which have support from many Democrats in Congress but could change the makeup of some Black members’ congressional districts.
And when younger members of Congress press Pelosi to elevate new blood and overlook seniority, this more traditional group points to Reps. Maxine Waters of California and Bennie Thompson of Mississippi — committee chairs who waited years for their gavels.
Rep. Gregory Meeks of New York, chair of the caucus’ PAC, said its goal was simple: to help maintain the Democratic majority so the party’s agenda can be advanced.
“You don’t throw somebody out simply because somebody else is running against them,” he said. “That’s not the way politics works.”
Last year, several new CBC members across the political spectrum grew frustrated after concluding that Democrats’ messaging on race and policing ignored the findings of a poll commissioned by the caucus and the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee. The poll, obtained by the New York Times, urged Democrats in swing districts to highlight policing changes they supported rather than defend the status quo.
But the instruction from leaders of the caucus and the Democratic campaign committee was blunt: Denounce defunding the police and pivot to health care.
“It was baffling that the research was not properly utilized,” said one senior aide to a newer member of the caucus, who spoke on the condition of anonymity. “It could have helped some House Democrats keep their jobs.”
Clyburn makes no secret of his disdain for progressive activists who support defunding the police. He likened the idea to “Burn, baby, burn,” the slogan associated with the 1965 Watts riots in California.
“‘Burn, baby, burn’ destroyed the movement John Lewis and I helped found back in 1960,” he said. “Now we have defunding the police.”