Two views on the Ertel scandal
Maxwell: Ertel incident as complex as politics and life; Green: Ertel’s apology disappointing.
Watching Mike Ertel’s black-face scandal unfold has been a case study in modern politics.
Many view Ertel as either a political victim or an irredeemable scoundrel. There’s no in-between. I’m going to submit both those positions are wrong. Or at least, incomplete.
I’d argue that Ertel did an admirable job as elections chief in Seminole and was a solid pick for Secretary of State — and also needed to resign. And that he’s a victim of nothing more than his own actions.
Call that position nuanced, complicated or even hair-splitting if you want.
I just don’t think everything packs neatly into the all-good or all-evil boxes many people crave for the sake of easy debate.
Life is complex. So are humans. Yet in politics we’re urged to draw all-or-nothing lines in the sand. Well, it doesn’t always work that way. Scream all you want. A border wall is neither inherently evil nor this country’s only hope for salvation. Organized religion can be inspirational and destructive. Regulations can be good and bad. The planet can have natural weather fluctuations and be impacted by human behavior. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing. Contemplative people should be able root for Ertel and understand why dressing up in blackface and drag to mock victims of Hurricane Katrina — while in public office — disqualified him from representing this state’s diverse population.
You can be his friend without believing he’s the victim.
Conversely, you can be glad he’s out of office — but also entertain the notion that he has changed since that photo was taken 14 years ago. Or maybe root for his redemption.
That was, in fact, the take on the Republican’s downfall from one of the region’s most liberal politicians, Democratic state Rep. Anna Eskamani, who said: “Mike’s quick resignation is a reflection of the man he is today. It was the right decision to make, and I wish him well.”
People who don’t understand why Ertel resigned may not appreciate this state’s blatantly racist past when it comes to election laws.
Florida’s long-standing practice of banning former felons from ever voting again, for instance, sprung from a post-Civil War concern among whites that Florida was becoming too black. (Actually, they used a word much worse than “black.”)
Their solution was to strip voting rights from anyone ever convicted of a felony, knowing that would disproportionately affect blacks who’d been convicted on bogus charges.
Maybe that sounds like ancient history … but only if you consider “ancient” to be four weeks ago when Florida finally ended the practice.
Plus, there have been other efforts to disenfranchise black voters, such as the 2012 GOP effort to ban early voting on a specific day — the Sunday before Election Day when many black churches stage “souls to the polls” efforts.
Black citizens have good reason to be suspicious of this state’s election policies. And to wonder whether they’d get a fair shake from an election official who once dressed up in blackface to mock victims of a deadly storm. That’s simply not OK. On the flip side, some Democrats were quick to celebrate Ertel’s fall.
Since I had praised Ertel’s selection by Gov. Ron DeSantis, one reader said he thought of me as soon as he heard the news of Ertel’s resignation. His reaction: “Bwahahahahaha.”
A strange reaction to a disturbing story.
Another viewed the scandal as a chance to try to teach me a lesson about praising Republicans: “Probably not the first time you've been burned applauding Republican appointments but maybe the last?”
I never claim to know what’s in the heart of politicians. (And I’m bewildered by people who claim they do.)
The only thing I can judge people by are their actions. And Ertel’s actions while supervisor of elections in Seminole County were largely impressive.
His office was professional and effective. He worked hard to register voters, including the traditionally disenfranchised.
And when President Trump tried to stoke anger and division by claiming that “millions” of undocumented immigrants were voting, Ertel was one of the few GOP elections officials in America to stand up and say: That’s not true.
While many Republicans took a cowardly pass, Ertel went on a tear, saying Trump’s claims were “simply not the case” and that “voter fraud is likely one of the least-committed felonies in America.”
We’ll see if his replacements at both the state and local level demonstrate comparable fortitude.
So where does that leave us? Well, it’s beyond disturbing to keep reading blackface stories. (There’s also a Republican legislator from Lake County who donned black-face in his high school and is still in office and a Democratic governor from Virginia whose fate remains undetermined.)
I’d hate to be judged by my worst moment. But there was also an undeniable inhumanity about Ertel’s decision to mock minority victims of a deadly storm.
So I don’t view him as a victim of anyone other than himself. But I also know the rotten things he did that night don’t change the fact that he did good and even courageous things while in office.
That take may not fit neatly in a box. But I find that many of the complexities of politics and life do not.