The choice for the future is clear, right? Well, maybe.
The 10th, which encompasses Koreatown, the Wilshire corridor, CrenshawWest Adams, Midcity and parts of Pico Union, is at a watershed moment in its history, a history of black political power that began when Tom Bradley was elected councilman in 1963. Today, that legacy is colliding head on with a shrinking black populace and black political retreat; the result is that 10th District dynamics are more complicated than anyone would care to admit -- anyone, ironically, except the incorrigible incumbent himself. Throughout his tumultous council career, Holden has never hesitated to loudly voice support of black causes, from affirmative action to investigating possible CIA involvement in crack-cocaine trafficking. But as black advocacy continues to fall from public grace while black issues remain viable, old-school Holden finds himself in the unlikely position of being the real maverick of this season's crop of candidates.
To be sure, his opposition is sturdy: Madison Shockley is a progressive-minded reverend with family ties in the district and a well-honed sense of community mission. Korean-born Scott Suh, at 32 the youngest of the group, has an engaging enthusiasm along with a wealth of business and employment development experience. Marsha Brown, the dark horse of the race, is a small-business owner with a soccer-mom exuberance who is nonetheless well informed. All three preach the importance of constituents of all colors collectively shoring up the fortunes of individual groups. A good idea, and hardly a point of philosophical contention in any camp, but the reality that is partially responsible for keeping Holden in office is that most of the black voters in the 10th -- who still make up 70 percent of the electorate -- do not appear particularly concerned with coalitions. As the millennium fades and diversity replaces ethnic descriptors in the national political parlance, many black voters are looking for someone to keep their issues at the fore and to carry those issues into the next century; that someone, at this point, may still be Nate Holden.
"Older black folks say, 'We want to coalesce with everybody, but nobody wants to coalesce with us,'" says political analyst Kerman Maddox. "I agree with them. People say that Nate's not giving in to that."
Another longtime political observer says that "Nate's crazy, but he's a fighter," exactly the sort of personality black people are going to need when redistricting and reapportionment come up next year. "Look, I don't like him. But given the landscape, the racism that still exists, the power struggles, you need someone like that at the table in City Hall. Nate's no visionary, but in this era of scarce resources for black people, vision may not be the thing."
HOLDEN'S OPPONENTS, TWO BLACK AND one Asian, all heartily disagree, maintaining that he stands for little besides perpetuating the status quo.
"The expansion of our interests is always assumed to betray those interests, but it's the only way to insure black folks' future," says Shockley, pastor of the Congregational Church of Christian Fellowship in Midcity. "I take a pragmatic approach. As recently as 10 years ago we used identity politics to address our disenfranchisement, but at this advanced stage of our political evolution that no longer applies."
Not surprisingly, Shockley developed his political sensibilities in the multiethnic Coalition L.A., a grassroots neighborhood empowerment organization in which he is an active member, and which is in fact sponsoring his candidacy. His church has been a venue of cross-cultural dialogue since the riots, and his many interfaith involvements include the African-American/ Korean-American Christian Alliance. Among others endorsing him are the Los Angeles Times, Rev. James Lawson of Holman Methodist Church, the Salvadoran Political Action Committee and civil rights attorney Angela Oh.
Besides full ethnic cooperation, Shockley's platform adopts many points in Coalition L.A.'s recently authored plan of action: creation of neighborhood councils, more parks (the densely developed 10th has the fewest of all council districts), stricter enforcement of slum ordinances as the housing stock grows more scarce. His war chest of roughly $120,000 consists of mostly small donations to what he calls "the people's campaign," and he criticizes Holden for taking his largest contributions from Koreatown merchants and developers, the most significant business community of the 10th District but its least significant voting population. It's a curious but perfect arrangement, says Shockley, whereby "blacks vote for Holden, but they don't finance his campaign, so there's no real accountability."