West Palm Beach Journal
A Local Election’s Results Raise Major Questions on Race
By DAMIEN CAVE
WEST PALM BEACH, Fla. — Officially, the Republican Party of Palm Beach County rejected Derek Black’s recent election as a committeeman becaus
e he failed to sign a loyalty oath.
But such technicalities hardly explain how a minuscule election — Mr. Black won 167 of 287 votes — has attracted the attention of hate groups nationwide and opponents like the Anti-Defamation League. This, rather, seems to reflect heightened sensitivity to issues of race in the age of Obama, and the intrusive power of history.
Palm Beach County after all, is a hive of Jewish retirees like Sid Dinerstein, 62, the county’s Republican chairman, while Mr. Black is more than just a gangly 19-year-old college student with a taste for politics.
He is also the son of Don Black, a former national grand wizard of the Ku Klux Klan. At age 11, he contributed a “kids page” to his father’s “white nationalist” Web site, Stormfront.org, where the message boards disparage nonwhites and have singled out Mr. Dinerstein, describing him as “another filthy stinking Jew.”
The younger Mr. Black denies being a white supremacist.
“I am a white person who is concerned about discrimination against white people,” he said in an interview at a local Starbucks. And yet, Mr. Black, speaking softly, wearing a black leather hat, boots and a sports coat a size too big, could not identify a single ideological difference with his father or the K.K.K.; nor could he bring himself to agree with the tenet that all men, regardless of race, are equal.
Last month, at a “Euro-American” conference in Tennessee organized by David Duke, one of the nation’s best-known white supremacists, Mr. Black gave a speech comparing his campaign to George C. Wallace’s resistance to desegregation in the 1960s. In an audio recording posted online, Mr. Black can be heard telling the crowd that he sees local Republican politics, “especially with the election of Obama, as the way white people will have to respond.”
“We can infiltrate,” he said, adding, “We could politically take the country back.”
Deborah Lauter, director of the civil rights division of the Anti-Defamation League, said that only a handful of other white extremists had tried (and mostly failed) in the last few years to join mainstream politics. She described them as “stealth candidates,” and Mr. Black acknowledged that his racial views were not a prominent part of his campaign.
In fact, Republican leaders here say they had never heard of him, or his family, until reporters from The Palm Beach Post told them he had won one of the party’s 111 seats in the Aug. 26 election.
Then the game changed. Mr. Duke, who was once married to Mr. Black’s mother, Chloe Hardin Black, appeared in West Palm Beach this month to broadcast a radio show describing Mr. Black as a victim of discrimination.
Residents responded with outrage. “It’s an ideology that should not be part of the fabric of this country,” said Michael Solomon, 64, a retired New York City police officer.
And as a result, local Republicans have found themselves trying to distance the party from Mr. Black without stirring up a conflict that would attract publicity.
So when asked, state and county leaders have said that Mr. Black’s associations appear to violate the oath he failed to sign, which requires that candidates avoid activities that are “likely to injure the name of the Republican Party.”
But at a meeting last week to seat newly elected committee members, Mr. Dinerstein focused solely on arcane procedure.
Mr. Black arrived early with a handful of supporters, and asked him why rules seemed to trump votes as a bank of television cameras jammed them closer together.
Mr. Dinerstein said he should ask the Republican Party of Florida, which issued the requirement. “It’s not my rule,” Mr. Dinerstein said. He insisted it was being applied indiscriminately, with others suffering a similar fate.
In the three hours that followed, neither he nor Mr. Black directly addressed prejudice. Not that they needed to. The auditorium, at a government building in downtown West Palm Beach, included many others willing to bring the racial subtext to center stage.
Mr. Black spoke three times. His first two monologues were interruptions to the agenda, and he was quickly shouted down by men in golf shirts and women with dyed hair. “He’s out of order,” shouted an older black man near the front, as Mr. Dinerstein banged his gavel. “Take off your hat!” yelled an older woman, who was white.
Mr. Black’s second effort attracted security guards who led him out of the room. In the hallway, he seemed uncertain. He said he was thinking of apologizing for the interruptions, and before returning, he stopped at the door and let out a large sigh.
Soon, the open comment period began. Joe Kaufman, chairman of Americans Against Hate, a Florida civil rights organization, broke the official silence, calling Mr. Black “a hatemonger.”
Mr. Black sat in the front row, smiling awkwardly. One of his supporters, a bald man with a round face, yelled in defense, “We love white people.” Mr. Black’s mother stood across the room, near a 10-foot-tall fake palm tree. “If he was black this wouldn’t happen to him,” she said.
In his final speech, he simply apologized. He said he eventually hoped to participate in party business, and did not respond to Mr. Kaufman’s accusations. After an unsolicited hug from an older white woman in dark sunglasses who smelled of alcohol, Mr. Black left peacefully.
Mr. Dinerstein seemed relieved. He had maintained his composure, and the payoff was loud applause from his fellow Republicans when the night concluded.
“I knew they would protect me,” he said. With that, he returned to a conversation about a coming event — a celebration of Abraham Lincoln.
A Local Election’s Results Raise Major Questions on Race
By DAMIEN CAVE
WEST PALM BEACH, Fla. — Officially, the Republican Party of Palm Beach County rejected Derek Black’s recent election as a committeeman becaus
e he failed to sign a loyalty oath.But such technicalities hardly explain how a minuscule election — Mr. Black won 167 of 287 votes — has attracted the attention of hate groups nationwide and opponents like the Anti-Defamation League. This, rather, seems to reflect heightened sensitivity to issues of race in the age of Obama, and the intrusive power of history.
Palm Beach County after all, is a hive of Jewish retirees like Sid Dinerstein, 62, the county’s Republican chairman, while Mr. Black is more than just a gangly 19-year-old college student with a taste for politics.
He is also the son of Don Black, a former national grand wizard of the Ku Klux Klan. At age 11, he contributed a “kids page” to his father’s “white nationalist” Web site, Stormfront.org, where the message boards disparage nonwhites and have singled out Mr. Dinerstein, describing him as “another filthy stinking Jew.”
The younger Mr. Black denies being a white supremacist.
“I am a white person who is concerned about discrimination against white people,” he said in an interview at a local Starbucks. And yet, Mr. Black, speaking softly, wearing a black leather hat, boots and a sports coat a size too big, could not identify a single ideological difference with his father or the K.K.K.; nor could he bring himself to agree with the tenet that all men, regardless of race, are equal.
Last month, at a “Euro-American” conference in Tennessee organized by David Duke, one of the nation’s best-known white supremacists, Mr. Black gave a speech comparing his campaign to George C. Wallace’s resistance to desegregation in the 1960s. In an audio recording posted online, Mr. Black can be heard telling the crowd that he sees local Republican politics, “especially with the election of Obama, as the way white people will have to respond.”
“We can infiltrate,” he said, adding, “We could politically take the country back.”
Deborah Lauter, director of the civil rights division of the Anti-Defamation League, said that only a handful of other white extremists had tried (and mostly failed) in the last few years to join mainstream politics. She described them as “stealth candidates,” and Mr. Black acknowledged that his racial views were not a prominent part of his campaign.
In fact, Republican leaders here say they had never heard of him, or his family, until reporters from The Palm Beach Post told them he had won one of the party’s 111 seats in the Aug. 26 election.
Then the game changed. Mr. Duke, who was once married to Mr. Black’s mother, Chloe Hardin Black, appeared in West Palm Beach this month to broadcast a radio show describing Mr. Black as a victim of discrimination.
Residents responded with outrage. “It’s an ideology that should not be part of the fabric of this country,” said Michael Solomon, 64, a retired New York City police officer.
And as a result, local Republicans have found themselves trying to distance the party from Mr. Black without stirring up a conflict that would attract publicity.
So when asked, state and county leaders have said that Mr. Black’s associations appear to violate the oath he failed to sign, which requires that candidates avoid activities that are “likely to injure the name of the Republican Party.”
But at a meeting last week to seat newly elected committee members, Mr. Dinerstein focused solely on arcane procedure.
Mr. Black arrived early with a handful of supporters, and asked him why rules seemed to trump votes as a bank of television cameras jammed them closer together.
Mr. Dinerstein said he should ask the Republican Party of Florida, which issued the requirement. “It’s not my rule,” Mr. Dinerstein said. He insisted it was being applied indiscriminately, with others suffering a similar fate.
In the three hours that followed, neither he nor Mr. Black directly addressed prejudice. Not that they needed to. The auditorium, at a government building in downtown West Palm Beach, included many others willing to bring the racial subtext to center stage.
Mr. Black spoke three times. His first two monologues were interruptions to the agenda, and he was quickly shouted down by men in golf shirts and women with dyed hair. “He’s out of order,” shouted an older black man near the front, as Mr. Dinerstein banged his gavel. “Take off your hat!” yelled an older woman, who was white.
Mr. Black’s second effort attracted security guards who led him out of the room. In the hallway, he seemed uncertain. He said he was thinking of apologizing for the interruptions, and before returning, he stopped at the door and let out a large sigh.
Soon, the open comment period began. Joe Kaufman, chairman of Americans Against Hate, a Florida civil rights organization, broke the official silence, calling Mr. Black “a hatemonger.”
Mr. Black sat in the front row, smiling awkwardly. One of his supporters, a bald man with a round face, yelled in defense, “We love white people.” Mr. Black’s mother stood across the room, near a 10-foot-tall fake palm tree. “If he was black this wouldn’t happen to him,” she said.
In his final speech, he simply apologized. He said he eventually hoped to participate in party business, and did not respond to Mr. Kaufman’s accusations. After an unsolicited hug from an older white woman in dark sunglasses who smelled of alcohol, Mr. Black left peacefully.
Mr. Dinerstein seemed relieved. He had maintained his composure, and the payoff was loud applause from his fellow Republicans when the night concluded.
“I knew they would protect me,” he said. With that, he returned to a conversation about a coming event — a celebration of Abraham Lincoln.
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