Metropolis: End of the Machine Age

Atlanta’s next mayor will have to break with the past to capture the future

“Meet the new boss; same as the old boss.”

– The Who, 1971

Shirley Franklin is many things. One thing she won’t be in less than two years: mayor.

Bosses come and go in politics, but Franklin’s departure will herald much more than the city needing to print new business cards. While we’ve been blinded by smog, while our senses have been numbed in endless traffic snarls, while we’ve tuned out news of the city’s problems because there are just so many problems – Atlanta has morphed.

Since Maynard Jackson beat the white power structure in 1973 – an election characterized by alarmist and often virulently racist appeals to the white citizenry to turn back the black tide – Atlanta has been run by a machine. As far as city political machines go, Atlanta’s isn’t as corrosive as most. It has doled out favors to insiders, often in the form of lucrative contracts, many of them involving Hartsfield-Jackson Airport. And, of course, the machine spreads around a lot of cash at election time.

Nothing better illustrates the system than a deal now being dissected in a federal lawsuit. Barbara Fouch, a Jackson confidant and godmother to his children, since 1981 has held an advertising contract at the airport that, for relatively little work, brings her and partner Clear Channel an estimated $9 million a year. Fouch doesn’t even live in Atlanta any longer, preferring Los Angeles. Yet the city doggedly fought bidding out the contract, and then rebuffed a well-qualified Atlanta businessman, Bill Corey.

“If you’re ‘in’ you get the business, if you’re not ‘in’ you don’t,” says Corey’s attorney, former Georgia Attorney General Mike Bowers. “It hasn’t changed a damn bit in the city. Contracts are awarded on the basis of politics.”

Among Franklin’s many attributes is that she is a protégé to the potentates of the machine: Jackson, Andy Young and Campbell.

The machine hasn’t been all bad. In the last 35 years, Atlanta has seen the emergence of large numbers of black entrepreneur millionaires, many of them fostered by the towering figures of Jackson and Young. A black middle class – the backbone of which is good government jobs in the school system, Fulton and DeKalb counties, and the city – became firmly rooted in Atlanta.

The city prospered. Whites, who fled to the burbs after Jackson’s ascendancy, returned – first in dribbles, now in droves. In 1990, blacks accounted for 66 percent of Atlanta’s population, according to the Census Bureau. By 2006, that commanding majority had shriveled to 55 percent, and the percentage is still heading south.

In a sad echo of the white racism of 1973’s election, the changing demographics have produced equally abhorrent race baiting by people who should know better. Franklin, Young and Civil Rights icon U.S. Rep. John Lewis produced a commercial in 2006 that told blacks their “lives may depend” on electing a black, John Eaves, as Fulton County Commission chairman.

The demographic numbers could add up to the end of the “Maynard Machine.” We could see the first white mayor in almost four decades, either in this election or the next.

Carl Stokes’ 1967 election in Cleveland paved the road for other black mayors, including Atlanta’s. And other cities’ mayors have changed hues back and forth – Baltimore, New York and many others. America is more color-blind now than a generation ago.

Atlanta, however, is special. We are the self-proclaimed capital of black America. My conclusion is that the seismic changes in Atlanta will either scare us into picking a weak choice for mayor or embolden us to tap a real leader.

Fortunately, most of those who have sniffed around the mayor’s race won’t run or are certain to be also-rans. The two best white candidates are having second thoughts. The feisty and able Mary Norwood is beginning to view her City Council seat as a dandy place to be. Radio personality Clark Howard may know how to squeeze the last bit of copper out of a penny – but I’d bet he’ll walk away from the race and offer his considerable services as an adviser to the next mayor. Most of the other potential candidates are has-beens or never-will-be’s.

That leaves state Sen. Kasim Reed and City Council President Lisa Borders. In interviews, they divide nicely. Reed focuses on specific tasks while Borders uses words to shape a vision for the city.

“The first thing I’ll do,” Reed says, “is expand the size of the police force. The perception and reality is that crime threatens all of the wonderful, fundamental things that we’ve put in place with a lot of hard work.” Noting that his mentor, Franklin, has worked to enlarge the police force, Reed says, “It’s still not enough.”

Reed ticks off other priorities. Use the mayor’s clout to get the state to move on transportation, and push for legislative change that would allow counties to unite in funding new roads and transit systems.

Borders speaks with idealism and enthusiasm. “We can position Atlanta for future success,” she says. “At the same time, we can ensure that all citizens share in that success. We can build a city where business prospers, where they feel it’s safe and beneficial to invest, and where we provide fair wages for the people who work here.”

Reed’s liability is that he will be seen as an heir to the machine. The senator, much like Franklin did when she first ran, disputes the power or even existence of the machine.

Borders will be criticized for her corporate ties – she’s stepping down as an executive at Cousins Properties. She calls her experience a “great asset.” And, in a gentle jab at her likely opponent, Borders says: “I was an outsider when I first ran,” in 2004. “I hear Bowers’ complaint [about insiders getting the city deals]. But I want all Atlantans to know there is fresh blood and ideas.”