A rap legend ripped Kamala’s marriage to a white man. Then she won him over.
The California senator has a ways to go to win over African American voters. This is the story of how she converted one prominent voice.
Luther “Luke” Campbell, the former 2 Live Crew frontman and “original bad boy of hip-hop,” absolutely torched Kamala Harris a few weeks after she announced her bid for president.
Writing in the Miami New Times, Campbell argued many blue-collar African Americans, especially men, had made up their minds not to vote for the onetime prosecutor. He lumped her in with politicians who have denied defendants rehabilitation and targeted innocent people.
Story Continued Below
And in a riff that critics slammed as sexist, Campbell questioned Harris’ marriage to a white man. He even suggested she used a romantic relationship with former San Francisco Mayor Willie Brown to advance her career.
“Like everyone else, black voters want help from one of their own,” Campbell wrote, slipping in that Harris’ mother was from India. “The Bushes made sure their people got oil money. Bill Clinton let the telecommunications industry gobble up small radio and TV stations. And Donald Trump is looking out for his developer buddies through a tax cut and opportunity zones that gentrify minority neighborhoods. Meanwhile, Harris has let black people know they can’t count on her.”
So it was more than a little curious when Campbell announced very publicly he’d changed his mind. In an Instagram video last week, he said he and Harris had recently talked on the phone about her record and presidential priorities, from gun control to the rehabilitation programs she started. Campbell said he wanted to determine whether she’s a “real sister.”
“I went back and looked deeper at the record,” Campbell said in an interview with POLITICO.
Luther Campbell speaks at a July 2018 panel in Beverly Hills, Calif. | Richard Shotwell/Invision/AP Photo
But the story of Campbell’s about-face isn’t so simple: It’s a window into how Harris is working to allay skepticism of her among African Americans — particularly black men wary of her background in law enforcement — and of how far she has to go to make inroads with a critical constituency that Joe Biden so far is dominating in the polls.
Harris and her surrogates routinely reach out to black influencers like Campbell, in most cases before they might publicly air any concerns. The campaign at times dispatches its chairman, the candidate's sister, Maya Harris, whose background in criminal justice reform and close relationship with the senator help provide insight only she could.
That Campbell could make the unexpected turn gives hope to an underlying theory Harris advisers have: that her courtroom experience will prove more of an asset than an anchor. But people on the outside involved in the discussions with Campbell stress that his struggles underscore the work Harris must do to introduce herself while fleshing out her motives as California’s attorney general and the district attorney of San Francisco.
“She obviously has bona fides in certain parts of the black community: She’s an HBCU graduate, an AKA. She is a black woman in every sense of the word,” said Tiffany Cross, founder and managing editor of the Beat DC, a newsletter on the intersection of politics, policy and people of color, referring to Harris’ time at Howard University and in the oldest African American sorority, Alpha Kappa Alpha
But the black community is not a monolith,” Cross added. “In certain parts of the black community, HBCUs and AKAs just don’t resonate. And, when people only hear whispers that you were the prosecutor who locked up black men, that’s something that’s an uphill climb. The campaign is trying to combat it, and trying to address it, but they have a long way to go.”
To Harris, Campbell represents a hard-to-reach demographic she’ll need to convince. Campbell, whose raw lyrics and videos with scantily clad women put him at the center of free speech fights decades ago, calls it the “silent majority” that powered Barack Obama.
Campbell’s evolution on Harris unfolded over many months. It started with calls from a surrogate and ended with Harris herself. In between, the rapper said he heard from a Florida congresswoman who endorsed Harris. He got beat up in testy interviews and at home: His wife, sister-in-law and mother-in-law are AKAs. He said they all really like Harris.
***
Campbell’s New Times column landed online like a thunderclap. Symone Sanders, then a free-agent Democratic strategist who later took a job with Biden, essentially told Campbell to shut up.
“Uncle Luke is no political mastermind or strategist,” Sanders tweeted at the time. “Why do black men keep popping up with their unsolicited opinions about Kamala Harris?”
But Cross, who brought up Campbell’s piece on Joy Reid’s MSNBC show, gave it more credence. In an interview, she said critics need to consider that Campbell is viewing Harris through the lens of black men who are disproportionately affected by the justice system.
Behind the scenes, Harris surrogates were treating the put-downs seriously. Bakari Sellers, a former state lawmaker from South Carolina, immediately reached out to Campbell. Democratic activists have said Campbell is a respected and even feared voice in Florida politics and has an extensive following among middle-aged African American men nationally
The California senator has a ways to go to win over African American voters. This is the story of how she converted one prominent voice.
Luther “Luke” Campbell, the former 2 Live Crew frontman and “original bad boy of hip-hop,” absolutely torched Kamala Harris a few weeks after she announced her bid for president.
Writing in the Miami New Times, Campbell argued many blue-collar African Americans, especially men, had made up their minds not to vote for the onetime prosecutor. He lumped her in with politicians who have denied defendants rehabilitation and targeted innocent people.
Story Continued Below
And in a riff that critics slammed as sexist, Campbell questioned Harris’ marriage to a white man. He even suggested she used a romantic relationship with former San Francisco Mayor Willie Brown to advance her career.
“Like everyone else, black voters want help from one of their own,” Campbell wrote, slipping in that Harris’ mother was from India. “The Bushes made sure their people got oil money. Bill Clinton let the telecommunications industry gobble up small radio and TV stations. And Donald Trump is looking out for his developer buddies through a tax cut and opportunity zones that gentrify minority neighborhoods. Meanwhile, Harris has let black people know they can’t count on her.”
So it was more than a little curious when Campbell announced very publicly he’d changed his mind. In an Instagram video last week, he said he and Harris had recently talked on the phone about her record and presidential priorities, from gun control to the rehabilitation programs she started. Campbell said he wanted to determine whether she’s a “real sister.”
“I went back and looked deeper at the record,” Campbell said in an interview with POLITICO.
Luther Campbell speaks at a July 2018 panel in Beverly Hills, Calif. | Richard Shotwell/Invision/AP Photo
But the story of Campbell’s about-face isn’t so simple: It’s a window into how Harris is working to allay skepticism of her among African Americans — particularly black men wary of her background in law enforcement — and of how far she has to go to make inroads with a critical constituency that Joe Biden so far is dominating in the polls.
Harris and her surrogates routinely reach out to black influencers like Campbell, in most cases before they might publicly air any concerns. The campaign at times dispatches its chairman, the candidate's sister, Maya Harris, whose background in criminal justice reform and close relationship with the senator help provide insight only she could.
That Campbell could make the unexpected turn gives hope to an underlying theory Harris advisers have: that her courtroom experience will prove more of an asset than an anchor. But people on the outside involved in the discussions with Campbell stress that his struggles underscore the work Harris must do to introduce herself while fleshing out her motives as California’s attorney general and the district attorney of San Francisco.
“She obviously has bona fides in certain parts of the black community: She’s an HBCU graduate, an AKA. She is a black woman in every sense of the word,” said Tiffany Cross, founder and managing editor of the Beat DC, a newsletter on the intersection of politics, policy and people of color, referring to Harris’ time at Howard University and in the oldest African American sorority, Alpha Kappa Alpha
But the black community is not a monolith,” Cross added. “In certain parts of the black community, HBCUs and AKAs just don’t resonate. And, when people only hear whispers that you were the prosecutor who locked up black men, that’s something that’s an uphill climb. The campaign is trying to combat it, and trying to address it, but they have a long way to go.”
To Harris, Campbell represents a hard-to-reach demographic she’ll need to convince. Campbell, whose raw lyrics and videos with scantily clad women put him at the center of free speech fights decades ago, calls it the “silent majority” that powered Barack Obama.
Campbell’s evolution on Harris unfolded over many months. It started with calls from a surrogate and ended with Harris herself. In between, the rapper said he heard from a Florida congresswoman who endorsed Harris. He got beat up in testy interviews and at home: His wife, sister-in-law and mother-in-law are AKAs. He said they all really like Harris.
***
Campbell’s New Times column landed online like a thunderclap. Symone Sanders, then a free-agent Democratic strategist who later took a job with Biden, essentially told Campbell to shut up.
“Uncle Luke is no political mastermind or strategist,” Sanders tweeted at the time. “Why do black men keep popping up with their unsolicited opinions about Kamala Harris?”
But Cross, who brought up Campbell’s piece on Joy Reid’s MSNBC show, gave it more credence. In an interview, she said critics need to consider that Campbell is viewing Harris through the lens of black men who are disproportionately affected by the justice system.
Behind the scenes, Harris surrogates were treating the put-downs seriously. Bakari Sellers, a former state lawmaker from South Carolina, immediately reached out to Campbell. Democratic activists have said Campbell is a respected and even feared voice in Florida politics and has an extensive following among middle-aged African American men nationally