A Fairy Tale?: Chicken Dinner Politics

Once upon a time, in a land (actually it was more like a “ward” but who’s telling this tale, you or me?) that was located three miles from a crooked river, there lived a ruler named “Queen Annie.” The queen had ruled over the ward for years and years, and when she died, some of her subjects came up with this novel idea: It was called “democracy.” Yep, some of them had heard rumors that in other parts of the country the “people” actually decided who their leader would be … and they wanted to try this concept called “democracy” in their ward.

They even formed a group called “Community Voices.” This group actually had the audacity to believe that the people of the ward should have the strongest voice in how the ward was run, which frightened the hell out of some of the downtown bosses, who, by the way, didn’t even live in the ward. The bosses were afraid a dangerous concept like “We, the People” might take root and spread like wildfire to other wards in the city. “We can’t have that,” one of the bosses was overheard saying, “people running their own affairs … that’s our job, to tell them what’s best for them.”

When the “big boss,” who felt that he had a right to dictate to everyone, heard what the people wanted he said: “Are you folks crazy? You’ve been ruled over for close to 30 years with an iron fist and you didn’t raise a peep, and now you want this thing called ‘democracy?; It ain’t happening, not on my watch. Besides, Queen Annie told me who to put on the throne in her place.” That’s when the proverbial shit hit the fan.

“Liar!” some of the people shouted. (Others said worse things about the boss, but this is a family-oriented column, so we’re not going to go there.) The folks in the ward were up in arms about this lie being told on their dead queen. They marched down to City Hall and demanded fair treatment. For their efforts they were laughed at, ridiculed and scorned … but they vowed not to give up.

The bosses, you see, had developed a bunch of tricks over the years to keep control of the people and the processes. One of them was called the “Unit Rule.” It was quite simple; if the head boss told a lie, the other bosses had to tell the same lie … it was right there in the rules. So other, lesser bosses, stepped up and said that Queen Annie had told them the same thing, to which one ward resident said, “Their mouths ain’t cut like no Bible, how we know they ain’t lying too?” Then the family of Queen Annie got involved, and said that they were at her bedside the whole time, and that she never uttered such words. The bosses wanted to call them liars, but they were afraid to.

By then the lying had gotten good to the big boss and told a real whopper. He said to the people that everyone would have a fair and even chance to run in the special election to be held to replace the queen; he’d obviously forgotten about the $400,000 slush fund he had control of . He thought the people were so stupid they wouldn’t know that he was planning to “buy” the election for his hand-picked candidate.

Yes, this was war — the boss was going to go to the mattresses: He was going to use the dreaded “Chicken Dinner Strategy.” When all else failed, the boss could dip down into his vast wealth (not for nothing was it called a campaign war chest) and buy chicken dinners for all of the older voters in the ward. Plain or extra spicy … he didn’t give a damn anymore.

This was the time-honored way of controlling votes among poor Black people when all else failed … buy them some chicken dinners. And he was going to use it, no matter what. Of course in the Westside wards they bought the folks steak dinners instead, but that’s only because the folks over there don’t like chicken as much. Hell, the boss would buy them all shrimp scampi if that’s what they wanted … it wasn’t like he was being racist or anything by only offering them chicken dinners.

When someone suggested that buying dinners was the same as buying votes, and probably was illegal (or at least should be) they were told to shut the fuck up, what did they know about high stakes politics? This was the way it’s always been done for decades, going all the way back to Tammany Hall. (Author’s Note: Shows you how little I know: I always thought that Tammany Hall was in New York) But after all, this was Cuyahoga County; the feds never come snooping around here looking for wrongdoing, do they? Especially if only a predominantly minority ward is affected.

This boss was hands on: He would actually go out to the voters who resided in the old folks’ homes and hand feed them their chicken (I wish I was making this part up, but I’m not). When someone told him that one old guy wasn’t a registered voter, the boss actually snatched the chicken wing right out of the old codger’s mouth. He wasn’t about to feed chicken to anyone who didn’t have a vote that could be bought, no-sir-ee.

The people who were behind Community Voices knew they would lose the election if they didn’t buy some chicken dinners too, but they refused to stoop to such tactics; they actually wanted a free and fair election … an idea the boss scoffed at. But they also knew the boss couldn’t keep his tenuous hold on power forever; they would just bide their time. There would other elections. It might take years, but they knew that one day fairness — not the political boss — would rule the land. Indeed, the fight wasn’t over — in fact, it was just beginning. And that’s no fairy tale.

From Cool Cleveland contributor Mansfield B. Frazier mansfieldfATgmail.com

Frazier's book From Behind the Wall: Commentary on Crime, Punishment, Race and the Underclass by a Prison Inmate is available from the columnist at http://www.frombehindthewall.com.
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