A couple of weeks ago this column noted, in whimsically understated terms, that “sometimes it’s good to be mayor.” As in, of Tampa.
It referenced Jeff Vinik’s ongoing patron sainthood and billion-dollar plans for a “live, work, play and stay” makeover of the Amalie Arena area. It further noted the recently announced, even bigger $1.7 billion redevelopment plans of Port Tampa Bay. It matters whose watch such momentum-ramping, game-changing announcements occur.
Then, of course, there was the ballyhooed Johnson & Johnson announcement to bring jobs and its corporate services headquarters here. And nothing like showcasing the ever-evolving Riverwalk to the 1,000 visitors who came here for the Governor’s Conference on Tourism. Timing is everything.
But some weeks–actually, fortnights–are better than others. The pendulum of economic cycles and dramatic announcements can swing both ways. And local politics will always be lurking.
Case in point: Mayor Bob Buckhorn, who doesn’t have to go to Dublin to get his Irish up, is now in full principles-and-personality-meets-sound-bite mode. That’s because his unilateral creation of a citizens police review committee–the product of a societal drumbeat–has been perceived as a “pre-emptive” shot across the disrespected bow of city council.
Here’s what the mayor did. After getting a legal go-ahead from City Attorney Julia Mandell, he signed an executive order setting up a Citizens Review Board to scrutinize police. The Board will have 11 members–two appointed by city council, the rest by the mayor. Not unlike a number of other such Boards, such as St. Petersburg, it won’t have subpoena power. The goal is to have it in place by December.
Here’s how the chairman of city council responded: “It reminds me that we’ve been a puppet for the administration, and I’m past the days of being a puppet,” growled Frank Reddick. “I’m tired that we’ve been embarrassed, overlooked, overshadowed. It’s disrespectful.”
Umbrage taken. Turf war on.
For the record, the council voted 6-1 to instruct city attorneys to draft an ordinance that would allow them more Board appointments than the mayor. Also finding fault with the mayor’s executive-ordered Board: Florida’s ACLU, the NAACP and other outspoken community/activist groups. Council members, in a prime position to channel the community/activist “Tampa for Justice” pushback, are set to review Board revisions at a workshop Sept. 24.
“We have been very concerned about the problem of over-policing in Tampa,” underscored ACLU Director of Advocacy Joyce Hamilton Henry. “What has been proposed by the mayor is an ineffective model and is a rubber stamp for existing policies and practices that the community is saying are problematic.”
As for Buckhorn, before his trade mission trip to Ireland, he said: “My responsibility is to the broader community, not to the loudest members of the community.” No, he’s not Mayor Nuance.
Then he doubled down upon his return. “The power to do things like this is vested in the mayor, pure and simple,” he said. “The executive order stands. … I would hope that cooler heads will prevail and the drama will cease.”
Were this merely a local, however controversial, issue, the odds would be better that cooler heads–from bully pulpiteer Buckhorn to posturing council members–might, indeed, prevail. But this is also a societal microcosm.
From Ferguson to Staten Island to Baltimore, the issue of police abuse and minority communities is on every municipality’s radar, especially those, such as Tampa, with large African-American populations. The onus is on police departments, even if the chief is black, to prove that they don’t harbor racists and that they’re accountable. There’s also Tampa’s well-documented, skewed pattern of ticketing minority bicyclists that has incurred the interest of the feds.
It’s a perfect storm. The nation’s racial crucible and the local urban version. Tampa’s strong-mayor form of government and a strong, hands-on, outspoken mayor who actually appoints the police chief and has a long-standing reputation for police support and advocacy. A city council that senses an opportunity for rare ego assertion and is now led by the African-American Reddick, who has a chance to stand tall in defense of a rally-around cause–not just the rehab of an East Tampa swimming pool.
Indeed, some weeks are better than others. Ironically, if we weren’t paying so much attention to the divisive bickering over a police review board, we’d still be assessing how it is that the Tampa Bay mayor pushing for a Cuban consulate is Rick Kriseman of St. Petersburg.