Published online by Cambridge University Press: 13 February 2006
In 2005, Hurricane Katrina flooded more than 80% of the city of NewOrleans. As the stories of hurricane victims, mostly AfricanAmericans, dominated the national news coverage, New Orleans' racialpolitics in particular, and the racial divisions in general, onceagain invited public debate. Why did a city that had been firmlycontrolled by African-American politicians from the mayor's officeto the city council exhibit such a clear racial image? What role didWhites play in the city's political establishment?This project was supported by research grantsfrom the American Political Science Association and theUniversity of Wisconsin, which allowed the author to travel toMemphis and New Orleans to collect original data and interviewthe mayor of Memphis and other politicians. The author wouldalso like to thank Susan Reed, Martin Gruberg, Wayne Parent, andDavid Siemers for their helpful comments on an earlier versionof the article. Special thanks go to the three reviewers and theeditors of PS: Political Science and Politics,and to Laura Fisher-Guex, James Vanderleeuw, and Susan Howellfor their invaluable assistance with thedata-collection/recording process.
What I attempted to do in my administration was to transcend race and look at what was in the best interest of the whole city. I talk about one Memphis, not a separated Memphis…. Yes, this is the time; we could enjoy the leadership of an African American mayor, but I have to be successful to receive support from the business community and White citizens, I need everybody.
—Dr. W. W. Herenton, personal interview, July 17, 2003
Morris Washer, a White 78-year-old Midtowner, also considered race to be a nonfactor [in the 2003 Memphis mayoral election]. Regardless of a candidate's race, Washer said, “I want to have the best person in there.”
—Chattanooga Times, October 10, 2003
In 2005, Hurricane Katrina flooded more than 80% of the city of New Orleans. As the stories of hurricane victims, mostly African Americans, dominated the national news coverage, New Orleans' racial politics in particular, and the racial divisions in general, once again invited public debate. Why did a city that had been firmly controlled by African-American politicians from the mayor's office to the city council exhibit such a clear racial image? What role did Whites play in the city's political establishment?
Though the increases in minority populations across the country, especially in urban areas, have drawn considerable attention from the media and politicians, there has been a lack of academic effort to study how Whites have reacted to their minority status in American cities. New Orleans, a White-minority city, has elected four African-American mayors since 1977. The rise of Black political power has contributed to and benefited from a “White flight” in New Orleans. However, the Whites who chose to stay represent more than 30% of the registered voters in the city's most recent elections. How did they respond to the increasing Black political voice in mayoral elections?
Memphis, another Southern White-minority city, did not elect a Black mayor until 1991. After many years of racially polarized elections, Whites in Memphis started to vote for the moderate Black candidate and defeat those Black opponents who were most popular in the Black community. As in New Orleans, the White minority would not have played any major role in mayoral elections if they had continued to vote along racial lines. Scholarly scrutiny must move beyond just explaining how Whites became “willing” to support Black candidates in these two Southern cities, and on to Whites' increasingly pivotal role in the cities' elections.
Studying Whites as a minority certainly can give scholars an important perspective. More than 50 years ago, V. O. Key (1949) convincingly explained why the White minority in the Black belt was the key to understanding Southern politics. Key's Black threat hypothesis, perhaps one of the longest-lived hypotheses in American political science, has profoundly influenced the study of racial politics in America (Taylor 1998; Glaser 1994; Giles and Hertz 1994; Giles and Buckner 1993). Key hypothesized that an increase in Black presence in a community leads to a higher level of Black threat perceived by the community's Whites. Applying this hypothesis to White voting behavior in New Orleans and Memphis, the Black threat thesis predicts that an increase in Black density, measured by the proportion of Black registered voters in an electoral unit, leads to a decrease in White support for Black candidates (Hypothesis 1 in this research).
Key's original theory (1949) was about the “maintenance of White supremacy” in the South, where Black disfranchisement was fairly common (5). The old context in which Key constructed his theory clearly was different from the post-Voting Rights Act era (Lublin 1997, 89). Indeed, Black politicians elected to powerful positions may no longer be just a “threat”; it has become a “reality” in many areas, especially at the local level (Liu 2003). One more issue in the empirical testing of the Black threat hypothesis concerns the proper geographic units that the Black threat theory should be based upon (Liu 2001b; Oliver and Wong 2003). While scholars of Black threat have found support for this hypothesis when Black density is measured at the county or other relatively large election unit level (e.g., Tolbert and Hero 2001), precinct-level or neighborhood analyses tend to provide counter-evidence (e.g., Welch, Sigelman, Bledsoe, and Combs 2001; Carsey 1995). Moreover, some studies have also discovered that the relationship between Black density and White backlash may not be simply linear. It is possible that White backlash against Black interests is the strongest when Black density reaches a critical level of around 20–30%, and Whites may become less discriminatory once they are in the minority (Keech 1968; Liu 2003).
More recently, scholars of racial interaction have provided a competing theory (Welch, Sigelman, Bledsoe, and Combs 2001; Huckfeldt and Sprague 1995; Huckfeldt 1986; Carsey 1995; Oliver and Wong 2003). Here the focus shifts to the positive social consequences of racial interactions. According to this theory, the more White voters communicate or encounter with Blacks, especially at the neighborhood level, the higher the possibility that these Whites will make friends with Blacks or become racially tolerant. With respect to White voting behavior, an increase in Black density (also measured by the proportion of Black voter registration in a voting precinct) may lead to a greater opportunity for racial interaction and, therefore, a higher level of White support for Black candidates (Hypothesis 2).
Critiques of the racial interaction hypothesis point to the possibility of a “self-selection” process that takes place when voters choose to live in a certain neighborhood (e.g., a racially mixed one) because they have already had a certain racial attitude to out-groups (e.g., racial tolerance) before they moved into that neighborhood (Pettigrew 1998; Powers and Ellison 1995; Oliver and Wong 2003). Furthermore, according to a recent study (Liu 2001a), the positive effect of racial contact on White racial tolerance may indeed exist, but this effect can be conditional on other factors, such as the overall group status and political power of Whites in a certain area.
Other than Black density, ideology has also been suggested as a determinant of White voting behavior (Browning, Marshall, and Tabb 2003; Sonenshein 1993). In this vein, the political incorporation theory emphasizes the coalition between White liberals and minorities to defeat White conservatism in urban America. Browning, Marshall, and Tabb (1984) argue that Black political control is vital to Black interests, and the biracial coalition between Blacks and liberal Whites is a key to the success of Black empowerment. More importantly, this coalition must be the “dominant coalition” to protect Black interests (also see Sonenshein and Pinkus 2005 for a case study of the racial coalition between Latinos and White liberals in Los Angeles). Based on this proposition, one may simply hypothesize that White liberals are more likely to support Black candidates in a biracial election than are non-liberal Whites (Hypothesis 3).
Though ideology has been a focus of many electoral studies, there is no consensus on the effect of a White belief system. Other scholars used the concept of symbolic racism, a much more pessimistic view than that offered in the political incorporation theory, to describe and explain the modern White moralistic and abstract resentments toward Blacks as a group. The subtle sentiments of symbolic racism are suggested as a reflection of the belief that “Blacks violate such traditional American values as individualism and self-reliance, the work ethic, obedience, and discipline” (Kinder and Sears 1981, 416; Kinder and Sanders 1996). Another limitation on the existing theories of White ideology is the difficulty in using them to trace the dynamic impact of racial transition on White political behavior. Arguably, when Whites become a minority in cities such as New Orleans and Memphis, their political power status is structurally changed. As a result, Whites may develop a new approach to Black political power to maximize their own political power, though their ideology may or may not remain the same (for an early theoretical treatment of White reaction to contextual changes, see Eisinger 1974 about White “pragmatic coalition”). Furthermore, a scholar who uses the conceptual framework of White ideology may find it very difficult to distinguish whether Whites' racial hostility is based on real-world concerns or on racial stereotypes (Bobo 1983).
This paper focuses on New Orleans and Memphis, two major Southern cities that Key (1949) argued are the key to understanding the racial politics of Louisiana and Tennessee. Indeed, given the racial tensions that have existed historically in these two cities (e.g., see Hirsch 1997; Pohlmann and Kirby 1996), it is reasonable to assume that if a successful biracial coalition can be formed in these two cities, then a same or similar coalition can be formed in other cities where racial tension has not been as high. Both New Orleans and Memphis use a mayor-council form of government and a nonpartisan election system. Figure 1 provides the changes in White support for the leading Black mayoral candidates who won the respective elections in Memphis and New Orleans since 1991. These city-wide estimates were based on the Ecological Inferences (EI) basic model developed by Gary King.1
Many scholars have indicated that King's Ecological Inference (EI) method is especially valuable and reliable for estimating racial voting behavior in some Southern states, especially for Louisiana (see, for example, Liu 2001a; 2001b; Palmquist 1999; Voss and Lublin 2001). Southern states such as Louisiana and Florida collect voter registration data by race and by precinct. In these states, racial voting patterns can be estimated with impressive accuracy also because there are a number of precincts that are predominantly White or Black, which is always good news for any statistical procedures that infer individual-level behavior from aggregate-level data. Louisiana also has a unique advantage: since the late 1980s, the government has also provided precinct-level racial data for voters who cast their votes (i.e., the sign-in or post-election data). This enhances the ability of the EI method to accurately estimate racial voting.

White Crossover Voting in New Orleans and Memphis, 1991–2003
Clearly, both cities exhibited the same pattern: White support for Black candidates started at a very low level before increasing substantially to more than 40% in the next 15 years. One may speculate that Whites became more liberal over time in their racial attitude to Black electoral challenges in the two cities. Yet, a closer look at New Orleans' longitudinal White voting data from 1977 to 2002 indicates that 1994 marked a significant drop in White support for Black candidates (see Figure 2). In other words, there has been no consistent growth in White support for Black candidates over time. Therefore, to understand the surges and declines of White support for Black candidates, one has to pay attention to the contexts in which the elections took place.

White Crossover Voting in New Orleans' Mayoral Elections, 1977–2002
All of the mayoral elections presented in Figures 1 and 2 were biracial elections involving both Black and White candidates. Thus, there was a chance for the White voters to support White candidates in these elections. Indeed, in both cities Whites provided a very low level of support for Black candidates in the early 1990s. In Memphis, the White support for Dr. Willie W. Herenton, the leading Black candidate and former school board superintendent of Memphis, was less than 10%. However, Herenton carried more than 95% of the African-American vote and benefited from a court decision that stopped the use of mayoral runoff election in Memphis to defeat the White incumbent, Dick Hackett, by only 142 votes in the primary, becoming the first elected Black mayor in Memphis history (Pohlmann and Kirby 1996).
Herenton easily won reelection in Memphis with his share of the White vote increasing to more than 30% in 1995. One may quickly attribute this success to the incumbency advantage. Indeed, in 1995 Herenton had no opposition from any Black candidate, and none of Herenton's three White challengers could muster a serious threat to his reelection. The only White candidate with some name recognition was John Baker, who had unsuccessfully run for the U.S. Senate.
In the following 1999 mayoral election, as many as 15 candidates joined the race—a sign that Herenton's incumbent advantage was challenged. The major White candidate was Pete Sisson, a county commissioner. Herenton managed to maintain his White crossover vote at the 37% level, about the same as his White crossover level in the 1995 race. White support for Herenton in this election, however, was crucial to his reelection because his Black support dropped more than 45%. The division in the Black community was largely due to a strong challenge from City Council Chairman Joe Ford, a Black candidate and former Congressman Harold Ford's brother, who accused Herenton of selling out Black interests to White downtown development projects (Wright 2000). Ford was defeated in the election, but almost half of the Black electorate voted for him.
By 2003, Herenton, now a three-term incumbent, had become increasingly popular in the White community. Herenton received 68% of the votes cast in the 2003 mayoral election to defeat seven other candidates, including John Willingham, a White candidate and a Shelby County commissioner. Herenton's White crossover increased to about 42%. Herenton is currently in his fourth term, longer service than any previous mayor.
In New Orleans, the 1994 mayoral contest was mainly between Donald Mintz and Marc Morial. Mintz was the major White candidate who had entered into a runoff with the Black incumbent mayor, Sidney Barthelemy, in the 1990 race. Marc Morial, the major Black candidate, is a son of Ernest “Dutch” Morial, the first Black mayor in New Orleans. With the local White media alerting the White community that the election might be “the last chance to elect a White mayor” (Engstrom and Kirkland 1995, 8), Morial openly suggested that only his election would stop the White challenge to the 16-year Black control of city hall. He urged the Black community to unite behind him to defeat Mintz. The outcome of the 1994 mayoral race was the most racially divided election in New Orleans' history (Engstrom and Kirkland 1995, 6). Morial won the election, but he received only 3% of the White vote in the primary and 7% in the runoff.
In 1998, Morial successfully won reelection. His two White challengers, lawyer Kathleen Cresson and arts store manager Paul Borrello, were newcomers to New Orleans' local politics and were not a real threat to Morial's reelection (Perry 2003). Despite the weak competition from these White candidates Morial still failed to gather a majority from White voters—his White crossover was only about 38% in 1998. After the election, Morial attempted, but failed, to persuade the city's voters to eliminate or modify the term limit law. Not able to run for a third term, he retired after eight years as mayor.
The 2002 mayoral election quickly attracted 15 candidates including a famous White professor and constitutional scholar from Tulane University. Two Black candidates made it to a runoff. As a surprise to many, C. Ray Nagin, the general manager/vice president of Cox Communications and co-owner of the Brass hockey team, defeated Richard J. Pennington, the popular police superintendent widely regarded as a surrogate candidate for the Morial administration (Perry 2003).2
Pennington's biggest asset was name recognition. Prior to the 2002 election, his job approval rating was even higher than that of Mayor Marc Morial (DuBos 2001). His campaign focused on fighting crime and improving job opportunities and education, a message designed to consolidate his support among African Americans. However, Pennington was criticized by some Black leaders based on a 2001 FBI report showing New Orleans once again leading the nation in murders, despite its lower crime rates. Jim Singleton, a popular Black city councilman and a candidate for the mayoral election, openly attacked Pennington. Singleton remarked, “with recent reports that New Orleans is once again the ‘murder capital of America,’ we have to stop harping on the progress we have made and begin to put together the mechanics for a sustained and consistent strategy against crime” (DuBos 2001, 15).
To summarize, when White voters rallied behind the major White candidates in the 1991 Memphis mayoral election and the 1994 New Orleans mayoral race, the White candidates were defeated. These defeats seemed to persuade many White voters that continuing to vote for White candidates would further limit their own electoral power. To see the strategic adjustment of White voters in subsequent mayoral elections, it is important to focus on the 1999 Memphis election and 2002 New Orleans race where White voters played an instrumental role in electing Herenton and Nagin and defeating Joe Ford and Richard Pennington, their major Black opponents who were popular in the Black communities.
The pivotal role of the White minority in electing their favorable Black candidates in the two cities' subsequent mayoral elections was intrinsically linked to the racial contexts which structured the overall political power of White voters. In Memphis, based on the voter registration data, the electorate changed from 48% Black at the time of the 1991 mayoral contest to 51% Black in 1995. By 2000, the city's population was 61% Black and 34% White.
In New Orleans, the electorate was 54% Black in 1990 and 63% Black in 1998. By 2000, the city's population was 67% Black and 27% White.3
It should be noted that the population sizes of other minorities (e.g., Latinos and Asians) have also grown in the two cities. But these other minority groups have not grown to the extent that they can significantly affect mayoral election results. In New Orleans, as late as 2002 the White and Black racial groups combined were still about 95% of the total registered voters. In 1990, White and Black voters were 99% of the electorate. Prior to 1990, there were almost no reliable data on the racial registration for the non-Black minorities due to their small sizes. In Memphis, non-Black minorities have grown more rapidly than in New Orleans. In 1995, Latinos, Asians, and other minorities collectively were about 8% of the registered voters prior to the Memphis mayoral election. This figure was increased to 14% prior to the 2003 Memphis mayoral election.
As stated above, the “increasing power” of White voters was evident in the 1999 Memphis and 2002 New Orleans mayoral elections where Whites were a pivotal force electing Herenton and Nagin, the favorable Black candidates, and defeating other “threatening” Black candidates (i.e., Pennington and Ford). The precinct-level racial registration data are available for both cities with respect to these two elections. To find which White voters supported Herenton and Nagin, I matched these registration data with the precinct-level election return figures to form the first dataset.
To explain individual-level White voting behavior using aggregate-level data, I employed King's EI procedure to produce estimates of White-voter support for the Black candidates at the precinct level. I used the EI approach because the traditional ecologic regression methods (Goodman Regression, Homogeneous-Precinct analysis, and Double Regression procedures) do not offer precinct-level estimates. To test H1 and H2 (i.e., the two competing hypotheses that expect a positive or a negative relationship between the level of White support for Black candidates and Black density), the independent variable is measured by the Black proportion of registered voters. H3 states that liberal White voters are more likely to support Black candidates than are conservative White voters. Thus a measure of White voters' ideologies is necessary. Unfortunately no registration data are available to measure voters' ideologies. In New Orleans, however, there are official data showing precinct-level White Republican voters who voted in the 2002 mayoral runoff. This variable is used as an indirect measure of ideology. It is reasonable to assume that White Republicans are more likely to have a conservative ideology than are White non-Republicans.
Very few previous studies used both aggregate and individual-level data. This is because such data are normally not available to scholars. One advantage of this study is that it tests hypotheses by using aggregate-level data as well as individual-level analysis. The individual-level data came from a citywide survey conducted in New Orleans by the Survey Research Center of the University of New Orleans between February 14th and 19th of 2002. The survey used a random digit dialing procedure with a screen for registered voters, and was based on telephone interviews of a random sample of 472 registered voters. The racial distribution of the survey respondents—31% White and 63% Black—closely reflects the city's registration characteristics at the time of the 2002 mayoral primary.
The respondents were asked how they would vote in the upcoming mayoral runoff election. This question is used to measure the dependent variable for Hypothesis 3. Because it is a dichotomous variable, the logistical regression models are employed to examine the voting decision of White and Black voters. Furthermore, borrowing from the findings of previous studies of racial politics, some control variables are also included in the models. These include the measures of social economic status of voters (Brewer and Stonecash 2001), voters' evaluations of current local government (Howell and Marshall 1998), and effect of news media (Liu 2003; Reeves 1997).
Table 1 reports three equations that use precinct-level estimates of White crossover voting for Herenton in the 1999 election and Nagin in the 2002 runoff as the dependent variables. Equations 1 and 2 are simple bivariate regressions with precinct-level Black density as the independent variable. The regression coefficients are not statistically significant, which suggests that, unlike what the Black threat and racial interaction hypotheses proposed, there is no relationship between Black density and White crossover voting at the precinct level. Thus, there is no empirical support for Hypotheses 1 and 2 based on the aggregate-level data in New Orleans and Memphis.
White-Voter Support for Herenton in 1999 and Nagin in 2002

According to the political incorporation theory (H3), there should be a higher level of support for the Black candidate of the biracial coalition from White liberal Democrats than from White Republicans. Equation 3 therefore adds one more independent variable, the percentage of registered voters who are White Republicans, into the New Orleans model. The R-squared increased from .008 to .201, indicating that the new model explains about 20% more variation in the dependent variable. Thus, Nagin's White support was from White Republicans, certainly not from White liberals.4
White Democrats as a measure of White ideology did not reveal a statistically significant finding. This is shown in the following regression result:

To further test if Black density and party identification are statistically significant once other factors are controlled, we turn to our logistical regression models based on the individual-level survey data collected by the University of New Orleans Survey Research Center. The dichotomous dependent variable is based on the question, “[a]s things stand today, who are you most likely to vote for in the election for Mayor of New Orleans, Ray Nagin or Richard Pennington?” (Recoded as “1” if the answer is Nagin, “0” if the answer is Pennington.) The logistic regression models are employed to examine the voting decision of White and Black voters.
The racial context variable is used to test H1 and H2, which suggest that the Black density of a neighborhood may affect the probability of Whites voting for Nagin. However, according to Equation 1 of Table 2, racial context, or Black density at the neighborhood level, did not affect White voters' decision to vote for Nagin. Thus, survey data do not provide empirical support for H1 and H2 (see Appendix for survey question wording and coding).
Logistic Regression Models for Ray Nagin's Voting Support, 2002 Mayoral Runoff

Party affiliation, on the other hand, is a predictor of Whites' choices. Democrats, contrary to political incorporation theory (H3), were less likely to vote for Nagin. This seems to support an earlier observation reported in Equation 3 of Table 1. It is also in line with Perry's (2003) argument that Nagin led a conservative coalition in the 2002 mayoral election. However, based on the logistic regression model in Equation 1, which includes two dummy variables to measure party affiliations, Nagin's White support was actually neither from Democrats nor from Republicans. In fact, those Whites who identified themselves as “independent” were most likely to support Nagin.
Other control variables also reveal very important findings: Nagin's White supporters were those who emphasized the importance of his previous business experience; gave negative evaluations of the Morial administration; and knew that the major White-controlled local newspaper, the Times-Picayune, had endorsed Nagin. Moreover, these White voters were, comparatively speaking, older, and were not affected by the negative TV commercials attacking candidates.
For Black respondents, Equation 2 shows that only two independent variables are statistically significant. Similar to White voters, Black respondents also indicated that Nagin's previous business experience positively influenced their support for him in the mayor election. This finding suggests that both White and Black groups stress the importance of their city's future economic success as the reason to support Nagin. The main difference between Black and White voters regarding their support for Nagin is that only Black voters who had high levels of family income were likely to support Nagin in the runoff. In other words, social class was an indictor of Nagin's coalition membership only for Black voters. For White voters, family wealth was not a factor.5
Since the dependent variable of Table 2 is a dichotomous variable, i.e., a vote for either Nagin or his opponent, Pennington, in the runoff, the findings reported in Table 2 can also be used to reveal the characteristics of those White voters who supported Pennington, the more “threatening” Black candidate who received about 15% of the White vote (Perry 2003). For example, according to Table 2, Pennington's White supporters, comparatively speaking, were more likely to be influenced by the negative campaigns of Pennington against Nagin, were younger, and were more partisan (Democratic as well as Republican).
The empirical findings presented above did not substantiate the three hypotheses derived from the literature of White political behavior. With respect to the first hypothesis, as noted above, V. O. Key's famous Black threat thesis was originally constructed in the context of the old South where White political domination was the core of racial politics. This political domination no longer exists in New Orleans and Memphis. One may argue that Black threat in a mayoral contest is at the city level, rather than at the precinct or neighborhood level, the geographic unit used in this study to test the Black threat hypothesis. Certainly, further research is needed to measure Black density at multiple levels (see Liu 2001b). However, the fact that the Black density in both cities has increased over time, and yet there has been no consistent growth in White support for the leading Black candidate (see Figure 2 about White voting behavior over time in New Orleans) suggests that even when measured at the city level, Black threat theory seems to have limited explanatory power.
The social interaction hypothesis, which presented an overall optimistic view of racial politics and received support from the empirical studies of the Northeast and Midwest (e.g., see Welch, Sigelman, Bledsoe, and Combs 2001; Carsey 1995), should also be examined with caution in the context of New Orleans and Memphis' White minorities. The multiple regression model based on the aggregate data (Equation 3 of Table 1) suggests that Black density was positively related to White support for Nagin. However, our individual-level analysis did not confirm this finding. Arguably, it does take time for racial interactions to produce a positive effect on White voting for Black candidates in the South, and the interacting in New Orleans and Memphis may still have occurred too early to show that positive effect (for a discussion of the slow effect of racial interaction on White political opinions, see Kinder and Mendelberg 1995).
As for the third hypothesis, as stated, at the core of the liberal coalition explained in the political incorporation theory is the dominant Black (or minority) leadership with significant liberal Whites' electoral support. In Berkeley and other northern California cities as well as Los Angeles, for example, this racial coalition was in fact put into power, and the minority interests were greatly enhanced, if not fully protected (Browning, Marshall, and Tabb 2003). Our statistical analysis shows, however, that the new biracial coalitions led by Black politicians—Ray Nagin in New Orleans and Willie Herenton in Memphis—were clearly different from those found in California.
Overall, the logistic models indicate that White and Black voters supported Nagin for different reasons. They didn't support him because they shared the same liberal belief system or party identification. To understand this new coalition, one needs to pay attention to the context of the local election. Different than Black politics at the national level, which shows more unity than division (Tate 1994), Black internal division may be much deeper at the local level. Very often this internal division is due to disagreements among Black leaders on policy priorities and “the optimum strategy for liberation” (Hill 1994, 15; for the politics of racial reflexivity, see Pohlmann and Kirby 1996). In New Orleans, a major Black division was clear as early as in the 1986 mayoral election in which Sidney Barthelemy, a Black candidate using a deracialization campaign, received 42% of the White vote and defeated the other “racially confrontational” Black candidate, William Jefferson (Perry 2003). In Memphis, the internal struggle has always involved Congressman Harold Ford. Acknowledging his conflict with Ford, Herenton explained:
I knew that we couldn't peacefully coexist because of his [i.e., Harold Ford] needs for power…. I kept trying to tell people what the Ford family had done. He had misled you. Yes, Ford built up his enormous reputation by getting utilities on and food stamps. But in terms of moving the city forward economically, expanding tax base, and creating more opportunities and bringing a polarized community together, he never did that because his politics involved dividing people, because he benefited from division. He played that very well (Personal interview, July 17, 2003).
The direct consequence of Black internal conflicts is that Whites become a very important political source of votes in competitive elections. White support serves as a pivotal force for the racially “friendly” Black candidates to win elections. Indeed, relying on pivotal White support to defeat their Black opponents and win election, Herenton and Nagin openly emphasized the value of racial conciliation over polarization. One consequence of their campaign strategies, however, was that both Herenton and Nagin were questioned and attacked by some Black leaders because of their “pro-business” and “pro-White” positions. In the 1999 Memphis mayoral campaigns, for example, Herenton was criticized by Joe Ford and Shep Wilbun, two of Memphis' influential Black leaders, as a Black mayor who showed no differences from previous “White mayors” (Wright 2000). In the 2002 New Orleans mayoral election, the negative campaigning and advertising went to the extent that voters received telephone messages portraying Nagin as a tool of the White business community (Firestone 2002, A-13). Even Nagin's Democratic Party affiliation was challenged by some Black politicians who called him “Ray Reagan” (Russell, Donze, and Grace 2002, B-01).
The White-minority status and the ongoing Black divisions likely have two political implications for the White community. First, continuing to vote for White candidates in biracial elections is the same as wasting votes. Second, finding a Black candidate who will cooperate with White interests and who has the ability to develop the local economy is not only pragmatic, but also necessary, because otherwise a Black candidate who is much more “confrontational” racially may win election. Making strategic decisions may demand a high-level of reasoning and information gathering on the part of White voters.6
The new White politics in New Orleans and Memphis, to be sure, is much more pragmatic than the extant theories would expect. The strategic thinking process of Whites to build a new biracial coalition in New Orleans can be shown by a report from the White-controlled newspaper (Times-Picayune), which described Vernon Palmer, a major White candidate in the 2002 mayoral election, in this way: “Palmer has diplomas from some of the world's finest universities, and his avocations have included drafting constitutions for Madagascar and Lesotho … but he is White. A mayor of New Orleans is, in more ways than one, a horse of a different color” (Gill 2002, B-07). This example shows why a strategic voting model may explain the White-minority politics in New Orleans and Memphis.
This study examines how Whites have reacted to their minority status in urban areas. A common White response to Black political power has “politically connected” Memphis and New Orleans. The experiences of White voters in these two cities may cast a sharp light on each other. The extremely low level of support from White voters for the leading Black candidates in these two cities in the early 1990s seems to be consistent with the previous findings that racial prejudice is still high in the South (Brewer and Stonecash 2001). But the surge of White support for Black candidates around the turn of this new century certainly requires further investigation. The change in White voting behavior is not a result of liberal ideology or of increasing racial interactions. A better explanation can be found when the political power status of Whites is directly linked to the racial makeup of the city (Eisinger 1974; Liu 2001b). To be more specific, this strategic voting model works best when Whites have become a minority. The racial transition from a White majority to a White minority likely fostered a White behavioral change, reflected by the increase in White-voter support for their favorable Black candidates.
Certainly, the White-minority success in electing their favorable Black candidates and defeating the Black candidates who had substantial support in the Black community is not unconditional. It depends on how Blacks, as the majority of the city, exercise the leadership role in elections. A unified Black electorate further weakens Whites' political power. However, a divided leadership among Black politicians, as we have seen in New Orleans and Memphis, gives rise to White political power.
Baodong Liu is associate professor of political science at the University of Wisconsin, Oshkosh. His main research interests include racial politics, urban public policy, and the electoral system. He has published research articles in such professional journals as Social Science Quarterly, American Political Research, Urban Affairs Review, Political Behavior, and Journal of Urban Affairs, among others.

White Crossover Voting in New Orleans and Memphis, 1991–2003

White Crossover Voting in New Orleans' Mayoral Elections, 1977–2002

White-Voter Support for Herenton in 1999 and Nagin in 2002

Logistic Regression Models for Ray Nagin's Voting Support, 2002 Mayoral Runoff