Pubdate: Wed, 02 Aug 2000 Source: USA Today (US) Copyright: 2000 USA TODAY, a division of Gannett Co. Inc. Page: 8A Contact: 1000 Wilson Blvd., Arlington VA 22229 Fax: (703) 247-3108 Website: http://www.usatoday.com/news/nfront.htm Author: Walter Shapiro Bookmark: MAP's link to shadow convention items: http://www.mapinc.org/shadow.htm Note: Shadow Convention websites: http://www.drugpolicy.org/ http://www.shadowconventions.com/ POWELL GOES BEHIND BARS FOR FREE SPEECH They are the forgotten Americans, the unpersons at our national banquet, the hidden underside of this self-congratulatory era. And yet Colin Powell, in what probably was the most daring speech at this overly directed convention, devoted almost as much attention to this invisible group as he lavished on George W. Bush. Powell's taboo topic Monday night was what he described as ''a growing population of over 2 million Americans behind bars. Two million convicts, not consumers. Two million Americans who, while paying for their crimes, are not paying taxes, are not there for their children and are not raising families. Most of them are men, and the majority of those men are minorities.'' When the Democrats burble about their accomplishments in Los Angeles in two weeks, no speaker will dare brag, ''Thanks to the law-and-order leadership of President Clinton, America proudly leads the free world in the number of men condemned to wear orange jumpsuits.'' At the same time, it is also unlikely that any Democrat will be granted prime-time television exposure to lament what this plague of incarcerations means to African-Americans and other minorities. The usual rules of politics don't apply to Powell. What can match the symbolism of a black man, who is among the most revered Americans, praising Bush as someone who ''can help bridge our racial divides''? Powell is that rare convention speaker who is granted freedom of speech. The Republicans probably would have permitted him to speak for 15 minutes on herbal medicine if that had been the general's price for endorsing Bush. The theme of the moment here in Philadelphia is the dramatic contrast between this honk-if-you're-tolerant convention and the 1992 for-true-believers-only conclave in Houston. It is unquestionable that the Republicans, however belatedly, have embraced diversity. Pennsylvania Gov. Tom Ridge, who said at a breakfast with USA TODAY on Tuesday that he lobbied for ''fewer dark blue suits and red ties'' on the convention podium, attributed the change in the Republican outlook to the emergence of the GOP governors as a political force. Yet later Tuesday morning another Republican governor was being angrily rebuked by the wife of a prominent Republican for his apostasy on an issue that has contributed to the 2 million Americans under lock and key. After New Mexico Gov. Gary Johnson repeated his call for the legalization of marijuana at reformers' alternative Shadow Convention, anti-drug crusader Betty Sembler, the wife of the party's national finance director, went up to him and shouted, ''You should be ashamed of yourself.'' The outburst was startling, since in the Age of Bush II, Republicans don't shout, they merely murmur softly. But Johnson, a two-term governor decidedly not running for re-election, has grown used to controversy since he announced that he favored legalization a year ago. At the Shadow Convention, the mild-mannered former businessman, dressed in a white shirt and olive suit, seemed an unlikely figure to win a standing ovation from an audience of scruffy professors and 19-year-olds with green nail polish. Asked later about Powell's speech, Johnson said, ''If only he had added one more sentence saying that the drug war has failed.'' In truth, Powell did say, ''If you want to solve our drug problem, you won't do it by trying to cut off the supply and arresting street pushers alone.'' But from there, Powell quickly retreated to safe ground with a reprise of Nancy Reagan's ''Just Say No'' campaign. The general only hinted that drug laws and their administration disproportionally penalize minorities. A recent report by Human Rights Watch, for example, found that 62% of drug offenders sent to state prisons in 1996 were African-American. It would be misleading to exaggerate these public second thoughts about the Republican Party's longtime law-and-order posture. Bush, after all, is a candidate whose idea of tolerance certainly does not extend to prisoners on Death Row. But against the bland backdrop of a convention so harmonious that it might be called Barney Does Philadelphia, any dissent from the traditional hard-line GOP anti-crime posture is startling. Especially because the Democrats, despite their overwhelming African-American support, consider challenging the conventional wisdom on crime and drugs to be an invitation to electoral disaster. Following Bill Clinton's less-than-bold example, Al Gore will do virtually anything to avoid being tagged ''soft on crime.'' In May, Gore, in an effort to outflank Bush on the right, proposed mandatory drug tests before anyone could be released from a state prison, even if the full sentence had been served. Republicans, on the other hand, are largely free of these political restraints. If there is anyone pushing the boundaries of New Republicanism, it is Rep. Tom Campbell, the GOP nominee for Dianne Feinstein's California Senate seat. At a news conference Tuesday afternoon in Philadelphia, Campbell, who loudly challenges the premises of the nation's current drug-enforcement strategy while not endorsing legalization, claimed, ''Most Americans and most Californians agree that we're losing the war on drugs.'' These are certainly different words to hear from a Republican running statewide in Ronald Reagan's California. But then the 2 million Americans behind bars are as much a part of the Clinton legacy as the drop in the crime rate or even the gravity-defying economy. It took Colin Powell to remind us that this incarceration statistic should not be a point of pride but a source of national shame. - --- MAP posted-by: Richard Lake