Politics of Exclusion

Jackson flails for recognition to the bitter end

CONVENTION. By becoming the first black to mount a major presidential campaign, Jesse Jackson ensured that the 1984 political season would esta- blish one historic precedent long before Geraldine Ferraro added a second. But instead of savoring his electoral accomplishments, which went far beyond what most political observers thought possible a year ago, Jackson approached this week's Democratic Convention in a defiant, almost reckless mood. The preacher-politician issued a torrent of threats, recriminations and inflammatory accusations that was little short of bewildering, even for someone who thrives on confrontation. Then he proceeded to back down, at least partly, from many of them. Right to the end, Jackson left many Democrats with very little answer to the question they have been asking themselves for more than a year: What does Jesse want?

In fact, many of Jackson's outbursts were the flailings of a wounded man who was not getting the thing he wanted most of all: a seat at the table of power. As one of three finalists in the long Democratic primary season, Jackson had expected to be consulted by Walter Mondale on such matters as the selection of a running mate and post-convention campaign strategy. Instead, Mondale met with Jackson only once, in a tense session that the former Vice President stressed was "not a negotiation." Mondale has ignored Jackson's demands to include minority planks in the Democratic platform that would call for huge defense cuts and the abolition of runoff primary elections, which Jackson charges discriminate against Southern Blacks. Last week, before announcing Ferraro as his choice for the No. 2 spot, Mondale specifically read Jackson out of the running "because we have too many differences that I think are basic."

Jackson's frenetic mood swings were captured, almost stop-action fashion, in a series of speeches and interviews, followed by clarifying re-interviews. By far the most explosive ran in the Los Angeles Times. In it, Jackson rekindled his smoldering feud with the Jewish community by accusing its leaders of trying "to make me a pariah and isolate our support."

One of the reasons Mondale never considered him for the vice-presidential spot, Jackson charged, was because of "threats" from "a significant number" of Jewish leaders, who were operating under the "very arrogant and contemptuous assumption" that Mondale could appease Black opinion by seeming to consider more moderate Blacks like Los Angeles Mayor Tom Bradley and Philadelphia Mayor W. Wilson Goode. Taunted Jackson: "You know, any Black face will do, and get the same response from the masses." He even managed to wave a red flag at the Jewish community while speaking on an entirely unrelated subject. Discussing news coverage, Jackson criticized the White press for "Aryan arrogance," using a word associated with Hitler.