For the first time in this presidential election season — and hopefully not the last — the New Orleans recovery has taken center stage. That’s because tomorrow’s Louisiana Primary, usually an afterthought in presidential campaigns, may actually mean something, at least to the Democrats, this time around.
Barack Obama visited the city yesterday, stopping at a restaurant and an elementary school, and speaking before a crowd of 3,500 on the Tulane campus. His speech focused almost entirely on Katrina and the candidate’s pledge to not only help rebuild the city, but address the underlying social problems exposed when the levees broke.
Hillary Clinton has not scheduled any stops in Louisiana — she appears to have conceded the state to Obama, who has shown remarkable strength in the South — but Bill was planning to spend today making a swing through the state. He began with an address before a small crowd at Dillard University, promising listeners that Hillary would make rebuilding New Orleans a top priority.
“Disaster response gets a fresh surge of discussion,” rings today’s headline in the Times-Picayune. In an editorial called “A Primary That Counts,” the paper urges candidates “to take this chance to highlight for people here and across the nation their plans to assist in our recovery from Hurricane Katrina and the levee failures that devastated so many neighborhoods. Several candidates alluded to the issue in speeches Tuesday night and that was encouraging.”
With any luck, this sort of thing could continue in to the regular election, where Louisiana and its nine electoral votes could very much be in play. Though it voted red in the last two elections, Louisiana voted Democratic in 1996, 1992, and 1976 (when the Democrats ran Southern candidates). (Click here for a complete history.) When Sen. Russell Long convinced LBJ to show support after the devastation of Hurricane Betsy in 1965, Johnson’s loss in Louisiana in 1964 was a central part of his pitch.
“Now, if you want to go to Louisiana right now—You lost that state last year,” Long told Johnson. “You could pick it up just like looking at it right now by going down there as the President just to see what happened. Now if you want to you could . . . you could save yourself a campaign speech. Just go there right now. Just go, and say, “My God, this is horrible!” (Click here for a full transcript of the conversation.)
Johnson went. He didn’t run for re-election in 1968, and Independent George Wallace carried the state. But you get the point. Paying attention to the victims of a disaster may not just be the right thing to do; it can also be good politics.
Obama, for his part, seemed to do a bit more than just offer sympathy in his speech at Tulane. In a relatively rare moment for American politicians, he seemed genuinely to understand the larger significance of Katrina to the nation. For a complete text of his address, click here. Here are some highlights:
We can talk about what happened for a few days in 2005. And we should. We can talk about levees that couldn’t hold; about a FEMA that seemed not just incompetent, but paralyzed and powerless; about a President who only saw the people from the window of an airplane. We can talk about a trust that was broken – the promise that our government will be prepared, will protect us, and will respond in a catastrophe.
But we also know the broken promises did not start when a storm hit, and they did not end there….
Yes, parts of New Orleans are coming back to life. But we also know that over 25,000 families are still living in small trailers; that thousands of homes sit empty and condemned; and that schools and hospitals and firehouses are shuttered. We know that even though the street cars run, there are fewer passengers; that even though the parades sound their joyful noise, there is too much violence in the shadows.
To confront these challenges we have to understand that Katrina may have battered these shores – but it also exposed silent storms that have ravaged parts of this city and our country for far too long. The storms of poverty and joblessness; inequality and injustice.
When I was down in Houston visiting evacuees a few days after Katrina, I met a woman in the Reliant Center who had long known these storms in her life.
She told me, “We had nothing before the hurricane. Now we got less than nothing.”
We had nothing before the hurricane. Now we got less than nothing. I think about her sometimes. I think about how America left her behind. And I wonder where she is today.
America failed that woman long before that failure showed up on our television screens. We failed her again during Katrina. And – tragically – we are failing her for a third time. That needs to change. It’s time for us to restore our trust with her; it’s time for America to rebuild trust with the people of New Orleans and the Gulf Coast….
So many of us live a life that is ordered, with comforts we can count on. Somewhere, we know, there are people who don’t have a house with a sturdy roof; who have nowhere to go when they can’t make rent; who don’t have a car to drive to another city when a storm is coming; who can’t get care when they’re sick, or get the education that would give them a chance at their dreams.
But too often, we lose our sense of common destiny; that understanding that we are all tied together; that when a woman has less than nothing in this country, that makes us all poorer….
I promise you that when I’m in the White House I will commit myself every day to keeping up Washington’s end of this trust. This will be a priority of my presidency. And I will make it clear to members of my Administration that their responsibilities don’t end in places like the 9th ward – they begin there.
But I will also ask the people of this city to do your part. Because together, we can do more than rebuild a city; we can create a model for America – for how we prepare for disasters; for how we fight poverty; for how we put our kids on a pathway to success.
If we do this, then we can once again make New Orleans the city that stands for what we can do in America, not a symbol for what we can’t do.
If we do this, then we can begin to turn the page on the invisible barriers – the silent storms – that have ravaged this city and this country: the old divisions of black and white; of rich and poor. It’s time to leave that to yesterday. It’s time to choose tomorrow.
We all hope, of course, that this isn’t just empty talk and that it translates into some meaningful action. But for the moment, it seems a major victory just to have the talk, which seems to have been glaringly absent up to this point. Let’s hope this isn’t the last time in this campaign we hear this sort of thing.