The Political Interest Smart Idea

By Michael Kramer

Ross Perot, who often talks before he thinks, is currently in his denial mode. According to Perot, the well-sourced stories of his bizarre behavior and shoot-from-the-lip policy pronouncements are either gross distortions or outright lies, the product of Republican "dirty tricksters" and their running-dog co-conspirator, the toady press, which just "doesn't get it." Of the many tales Perot disputes, one in particular is troubling because the nub of the idea he denies advocating isn't so bad at all.

During his chairmanship of the Texas War on Drugs Committee, Perot supported several unorthodox police procedures. None has generated more heat than his call for a "civil war" against crime and drugs. In 1988 two different journalists wrote that Perot encouraged Dallas cops to "go in ((to high-crime neighborhoods)), cordon off the whole area, going block by block, looking for guns and drugs." When the stories first appeared, Perot was mum -- a telling silence since no one can recall his having ever let a perceived inaccuracy stand uncorrected. Today, however, with such famous civil libertarians as Dan Quayle predicting that Perot would gut the Constitution, the un-candidate swears, "I never said it."

As reported, Perot's scheme would probably violate any number of individual rights. But the basic notion is sound: no amount of inner-city investment will revitalize America's urban areas if the people who live there fear for their lives. Security, as all the candidates say, with varying emphasis, must be the first priority. All three have embraced community policing, the concept that would add cops to the streets on the theory that only intimate associations can eventually cause residents and officers to trust one another. But "c- pop," as it is known, can work only after an area is pacified -- and only after those who live there believe it to be thus. So Perot was on to something, and if he would stop to give a moment's thought to the problem, he would undoubtedly be on his way to Chicago for a photo-op with Vince Lane, one of the few public officials bold enough to push crime "sweeps" as an essential first step toward securing public safety.

When Lane took over the Chicago Housing Authority in 1988, the ghetto projects he oversaw were rightly considered the nation's worst. The police estimated that violent gangs controlled 120 of the CHA'S 167 high-rises. "People were sleeping in bathtubs to avoid gunfire," Lane says, "and until that changed, you could forget the rest." Within weeks, Lane instituted Operation Clean Sweep, which continues to this day. Backed by the police, CHA officials examine apartments looking for places in need of repair and for "unregistered guests." If "by chance we uncover weapons or drugs," Lane says with a smile, "we complain" to the trailing cops, and arrests are made on the spot. The American Civil Liberties Union sued the CHA for its warrantless searches, but Lane negotiated a consent decree that has allowed his program to proceed unimpeded. The key is resident support, a result of the operation's startling success. Crime has fallen substantially, down about 30% in the 100 buildings swept so far.

Lane is finally beginning to "attract back" working families that "can serve as role models for the 80% of our residents who are still on welfare. Low rents help," he concedes, "but most productive people wouldn't even consider living in our buildings if we weren't gaining a reputation for providing a safe environment -- and that view would be impossible if we weren't sweeping aggressively."

In the person of Housing and Urban Development Secretary Jack Kemp, the Bush Administration has funneled more than $30 million to Lane to continue the sweeps. "But conservatives believe such actions are local matters," says Lane, "so the President has refused to urge other cities to follow our lead -- and most haven't because too many minority leaders are out of touch with the folks who live in their projects and are therefore afraid of being accused of sponsoring civil rights violations." Bill Clinton says Lane is "the greatest," but he too has avoided endorsing the cornerstone of Lane's success.

Which leaves Perot. Suburban Chicago politicians fear that the drug gangs will simply move to what Lane calls "normal" neighborhoods if the projects are swept "clean." "But that would be great," he insists. "Nationally, we'll never get a handle on violent crime until 'normal' folks feel the fear that's felt in the ghetto. Only then will they scream for the kind of law enforcement, including things like house-by-house searches, that gives content to all the law-and-order rhetoric. Ross may have gone too far, but he's on the right track." Which means Perot might consider saying what he says he never said, and this time more precisely. Or it means that Clinton or Bush might be wise to adopt Lane's program before Perot catches on.