As we watch activists from groups like Black Lives Matter make decisions to run for political office, we should also be aware of the history of the men and women who first opened those doors by making the transition from protest to electoral politics.
One of the foremost is Ronald Vernie "Ron" Dellums, elected as a Democrat to the 92nd Congress in 1970 from the Berkeley, California, City Council. An open Democratic socialist, he went on to serve 13 consecutive terms in the U.S. House of Representatives. He was then mayor of Oakland, California, from January 8, 2007 to January 3, 2011. At 80 years old, he has continued his activism.
While in Congress he was a co-founder of both the Congressional Black Caucus in 1971, and the Congressional Progressive Caucus in 1991.
We need voices in the street, and we need voices in the seats of power—and Ron Dellums represents both. Whenever I hear people discouraging our young folks about voting, and/or running for elected office, I point to Dellums’ career and continuing activism as a powerful example.
As is true of many black activists, Dellums was part of a family legacy of organizing.
Ronald V. Dellums was born on November 24, 1935, in Oakland, California, to Verney Dellums, a Pullman porter and a longshoreman, and Willa Dellums, a beautician and government clerk. His uncle, C. L. Dellums—a leader in the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters union—served as a role model and as a political influence.
C.L. Dellums is a major black figure in his own right.
In the 1920s virtually all of the sleeping car porters who worked on the luxury cars -- provided for passenger trains by the Pullman Sleeping Car Company -- were African American men, while all of the supervisors were white men. Dellums became one of the porters where he earned $2 per day. In stark contrast to the stereotypical image of porters in that era, Dellums dressed well, had good diction, and always carried himself with dignity. However, the meager wages forced Dellums to supplement his income by running a billiard parlor in West Oakland.
The low pay and poor working conditions prompted Dellums to join the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters, then being organized by A. Philip Randolph. Upon hearing of his joining the union, he was fired by the Pullman Company. The Brotherhood then hired Dellums to work full time as a union organizer. Soon afterwards Randolph named him West Coast vice president. Dellums helped the Brotherhood win its collective bargaining agreement with the Pullman Company in 1937.
Along with Randolph, Dellums, who served as western regional director of the NAACP, was one of the principal organizers of the March on Washington Movement in 1941. He also served on the wartime Fair Employment Practices Committee. One of his chief adversaries on that committee was California Governor Earl Warren, who later became Chief Justice of the U.S. Supreme Court. In the 1960s Dellums succeeded Randolph as national president of the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters. He died in Oakland in 1989. One decade later Oakland’s Amtrak Station was dedicated to C.L. Dellums.
This hit close to home, because my own family political history is closely tied to the sleeping car porter struggle. I wrote about it here, in a piece titled “The union that built the black middle class.”
To get a real sense of Dellums’ history and transition into the political arena, I suggest you read his autobiography, Lying Down with the Lions: A Public Life from the Streets of Oakland to the Halls of Power. written with H. Lee. Halterman.
Ron Dellums. Autobiography
When Ronald Dellums arrived in Washington in 1971 to represent Oakland, California, in the House of Representatives, his radical activism had already earned him a place on Nixon's enemy list. When he retired in 1998-his radicalism still intact-he left a record of accomplishment that has made an indelible mark on our political landscape. Lying Down with the Lions chronicles Dellums' years in the House, and offers crucial lessons for Americans committed to democratic social change. From his days as a freshman from California's 9th Congressional District, to helping to found the Congressional Black Caucus, to being the first African-American to serve on and later chair the House Armed Services Committee, Dellums' tenure in the House is both a testament to his significant career and a crucible of American politics at the close of the century. Lying Down with the Lions tells the stories of Dellums' remarkable life and of his political battles--over a sensible defense policy, health care reform, and ending apartheid in South Africa, to name just a few of his courageous struggles--with lessons learned about leadership, politics, and the importance of building coalitions to effect change.
Profound and humane, Lying Down with the Lions ensures Ronald Dellums' place as one of our most important leaders of the last half century.
In “Exit Left: Ron Dellums Leads the Liberals out of Congress,“ John Nichols wrote for The Progressive:
In May 1971, when anti-Vietnam War protesters converged on the steps of the U.S. Capitol, baton-wielding police officers thought nothing of whacking a tall black man distinguished by his dashiki and Afro, hairstyle. But the victim of that police assault turned out to be a newly elected member of the United States Congress. He went on to lead a lawsuit based on the attack and the ensuing arrests that established the right to protest on the grounds of the Capitol.
Inside the Capitol building, he took an even more radical step. He held an unofficial hearing where U.S. Army veterans spoke of war crimes they and their fellow soldiers had committed against the people of Vietnam. One newspaper declared, "The hearings included some of the most damning statements of American conduct in war ever heard on Capitol Hill."
The New Left had arrived in the U.S. House of Representatives. And its name was Ron Dellums. For the next twenty-seven years, Dellums established himself as a figure like none who had served before--an unrepentant radical who took the battle from the streets to the floor of Congress.
His Congressional biographical page gives more detail:
With his election to the 92nd Congress (1971–1973), Dellums quickly made headlines in his district and around the country. Unlike many freshman Members of Congress, who chose to learn the ropes quietly, Dellums adopted an active and vocal approach, introducing more than 200 pieces of legislation. Groomed in the radical tradition of his district, he displayed little patience for congressional customs and the inner workings of the institution. After the House refused to conduct an investigation on possible American war crimes in Vietnam, he spearheaded a plan to hold his own ad hoc hearings—an unusual and controversial move that provoked scorn from some longtime politicians but drew considerable media attention. “I am not going to back away from being called a radical,” Dellums remarked defiantly during his first term. “If being an advocate of peace, justice, and humanity toward all human beings is radical, then I’m glad to be called a radical.” He also convened informal hearings on racism in the military, an issue of personal importance because of the discrimination he encountered in the Marines.
Dellums continued to make waves in the House, introducing a measure for comprehensive economic sanctions in South Africa during the 92nd Congress. The first legislator to propose such severe restrictions against the apartheid regime, Dellums, alongside the Congressional Black Caucus (CBC), waged a long, intense battle to highlight the discriminatory practices of South Africa. “We are serious in our determination that positive action be taken soon to terminate U.S. business relationships with apartheid and repression in Africa,” Dellums affirmed on behalf of the CBC in 1972. As one of the 13 Members who founded the organization in 1971 and served as chairman for the 101st Congress (1989–1991), Dellums discovered an outlet for his activism with the CBC. During the next 15 years, the California Representative led the charge against apartheid by sponsoring numerous bills to end U.S. support for the South African government and participating in a series of peaceful demonstrations—which, on one occasion, led to his arrest at the South African Embassy in Washington, DC. In 1986, Dellums achieved one of his most significant legislative triumphs. As the floor manager of a bill calling for a U.S. trade embargo against South Africa and divestment by American companies of their holdings in the African nation, Dellums edged out a similar bill put forth by another black Member, William (Bill) Gray III of Pennsylvania, that included more modest sanctions. In an unusual turn of events, the opposition chose not to request a recorded roll call vote after a voice vote passed Dellums’ measure. Dellums expressed shock at how easily the bill had passed as well as profound satisfaction: “This is the highest point of my political life, the most significant and personally rewarding,” Dellums rejoiced. “It’s been a long journey to this moment.” Although the Senate ultimately passed a less stringent measure than the House, the two chambers united to override a veto by President Ronald W. Reagan easily. The Comprehensive Anti–Apartheid Act became law on October 2, 1986.
The Dellums Institute for Social Justice details much more about his legacy:
In 1973 Ron secured a seat on the powerful House Armed Services Committee (HASC), and after serving as Chair of various HASC subcommittees (Military Construction, Military Personnel, and then Research and Development), in 1993 he was appointed Chairman of the Armed Services Committee itself. On Armed Services, Ron used his leadership positions to question U.S. policy and brought about the first real strategic debates on military policy in the post-Cold War world. He led successful fights, including changing the minds of Republican colleagues, to stop the misguided MX missile system, and to limit the Strategic Defense Initiative ("Star Wars") and B-2 bomber programs, as well as other expensive and unusable nuclear war-fighting weaponry. Despite opposition to U.S. military policies, he continually fought to better the working and living conditions of the men and women who were the instrument of these policies.
Thanks to The National Visionary Leadership Project, we get the chance to hear Dellums talk about just how he got started on his trajectory into politics.
He started out local, with his friends dragging him to a meeting set to put up a black unity candidate for the Democratic nomination to the Berkeley city council (though the city council was “non-partisan,” Dellums points out that “everybody knew who the Democrats and Republicans were”).
I chuckled listening to Dellums describe how resistant he was to running for office. He goes on to talk about coalition politics—he became the first African American to go to Congress from a predominantly white district, defeating an incumbent along the way.
When he ran for mayor he had strong support from black activists who were part of that coalition. As many young people across the U.S. are learning more about the history of the Black Panther Party via Stanley Nelson’s film The Black Panthers: Vanguard of the Revolution, we should not ignore the role of black activists—including Panthers—who aided Dellums in making the crossover.
Though the icon of the party is of black-garbed men, the role of women can’t be understated. Sisters did most of the organizing, while men had the “high profile” positions. Specifically, the voter drive which helped elect Oakland's first black mayor, Lionel Wilson and the East Bay’s first US Congressman, Ron Dellums, in the 1970s would not have succeeded without female Black Panthers going door to door.
More than 50 years after his start as a student activist and social worker, Dellums continues to serve communities here in the U.S. and around the world as president of The Dellums Institute for Social Justice:
The Dellums Institute for Social Justice invests in two main strategies to further social justice: 1) youth leadership development, and 2) coalitions to advance structural solutions to persistent racial and economic inequalities.
We invest in our world's greatest assets--its young people. Many young people are hungry for viable solutions to unprecedented economic, environmental, social, and political problems that threaten their future security. We seek to develop future leaders in government, business, cultural arts and entertainment, and nonprofit service to serve as principled social justice advocates.
In closing, I simply want to say:
Dear Congressman Dellums: Thank you for your continued service, leadership, and inspiration. Looking forward to another generation following in your footsteps—and breaking new ground.