Mayor Barry’s Trial Raises Issues Unresolved in the Black ‘Family’ : Verdict: The decision in the case against Washington Mayor Marion Barry forces the black community to confront some serious internal issues.

With the jury’s indecisive verdict of one conviction, one acquittal and a mistrial on 12 other counts, the case of the United States vs. Marion S. Barry Jr. has returned to the streets where the conflicting symbols of race pride, moral strength and historical memory must be resolved by “family” members--black people in Washington and elsewhere who, until now, refused to debate their differences aloud. Perhaps the specter of federal prosecutors imposing judgment unified the community in its silence. But with that gone, the mayor has decided to run for the City Council, forcing us to re-examine him. This is the hardest time.

Barry called it “the time for healing,” as he spoke to nearly 1,000 celebrating supporters at the Frank Reeves Municipal Building on the day after the verdict. The event, like the popular T-shirt proclaiming “It’s a black thing--you wouldn’t understand,” was a family affair, a holiday. There were little girls in braids trailing middle-aged women. The Fruit of Islam conducted voter registration for Louis Farrakhan’s local candidates. There were teen-agers in Day-Glo and men in kente-cloth and dreadlocks. Even the cops were black. People roamed throughout the six-story atrium as if they were at home. The few whites found corners to stand in. It was a black thing.

Barry emerged like a king before the crowd and wrapped himself in the mantle of blackness. He spoke of the church and redemption, his upbringing in Mississippi, his civil-rights leadership and challenge to white government and white media.

“A lot of us pained,” Barry said. “Nobody was any more pained than me. Nobody suffered any more disappointment and shame than me.”

That pain is an ubiquitous element of life for blacks in many U.S. cities, but especially Washington--known to many as a “colony” of the federal government. In a city that is nearly 75% black, all paths to commerce--cherished jobs on the Hill, the huge law offices, the elite halls of journalism--are overwhelmingly white. You can ride the space-aged Metro to work, stroll, shop and eat out without seeing more than a handful of black men in business suits.

But because the city’s service class is so undeniably black, you cannot mistake its distinct African-American rhythm. It fills the streets, pre-adolescent black man-children have taken to drumming together on upended garbage pails throughout the business areas. It is an ominous, beautiful and persistent rhythm--rising up past the army of white collars and resonating against the skyscrapers.

“The United States government must examine its conduct to see if it’s been in keeping with its responsibility,” the mayor went on.

These words recall for many blacks the most unforgivable parts of our historical memory. The FBI, the Justice Department, the CIA--all fused in a collective consciousness--have a history of persecuting black leadership. Martin Luther King Jr. was the subject of years of investigation. Adam Clayton Powell Jr. was a target until his expulsion from Congress. The Black Panthers were literally wiped out by government forces.

Thus many undecided blacks chose sides when the Vista Hotel tape was televised. Humiliated, embarrassed, we sat through 83 minutes of a middle-aged man’s pathetic mumblings in search of sex. We watched in horror following the bust when only the mayor could be viewed sitting with handcuffs behind him, in visible pain and confusion, as three headless, white FBI agents stood over him, hands in their pockets, asking him pithy questions to pass the time. They might have been urinating on him.

Meanwhile, Congress went on, as always, deciding the fate of Washington’s funding for essential services. The district would be the laboratory for drug czar William J. Bennett’s fabled assault on drugs. A statehood vote would go wanting, but Washington could have a non-voting “shadow” senator. The Barry case itself would consume thousands, if not millions, of dollars, while the U.S. Attorney’s office would dismiss 62 counts of first-degree murder.

And still you can hear the rhythm of those man-children drumming up the streets.

“I realized that I had spent so much time trying to do so much for many of you I had ignored major parts of myself,” the mayor continued. “I ask you to forgive me for any hurt I may have caused.”

This is the hard part for any family left as the final arbiter of a kinsman’s fate. During his 10 years as Washington mayor, Barry has been credited with reducing unemployment in certain periods, rebuilding the downtown and enacting enlightened policies affecting gay rights, homelessness, abortion and victims of AIDS. Many--especially the poor--believe that, at his peak and given the inherent powerlessness of the office, Barry’s leadership was unparalleled.

But, as time passed, many people remember Barry otherwise. Since 1987, several officials close to Barry were indicted or resigned because of corruption and drug use. Nearly everyone says they know somebody who did drugs or was approached sexually by the mayor. Local polls in 1989 indicated that 40% of the respondents thought Barry was involved in drugs. Perhaps he stayed too long.

But what did Barry do that he seeks his family’s forgiveness for? He boasted no jury could convict him. He admitted to chemical dependency. He womanized incessantly and shamed his wife. He may have raped a woman, according to a government witness whose testimony has been swiftly forgotten. He ran with what his lawyer called the “inner recesses of humanity,” who, even after receiving city business and favors, could be sold into testifying against him. He was a drug user stumping as a drug buster. He ignored his responsibility as a role model. In short, he deteriorated.

“ We must lay our burdens down, forget about racism and sexism .”

The burden of family has broken down. A lot of people have an uncle like Barry, an upstanding figure from 9 to 5 but, come nightfall, a frequent presence behind too many drinks or hits, a purveyor of his manhood as though no lives but his own depended on it. Sometimes his problems were serious or he did unsettling things to his family. But we wouldn’t intervene. We took comfort in the politically correct hours of his days, and we suffered the crises of his nights through the stoic pain of his wife--the aunt or mother or sister we all love. We consoled her, while admiring her ability to ignore his transgressions, like a good keeper of the family.

“Thank you, Effi, so much. She has my everlasting gratitude for standing by my side,” Barry told the crowd. “She has been an excellent example of an African-American who understands tradition when it’s brought us this far.”

And so Effi Barry sat it out throughout the trial, throughout the years, needlework in hand, listening silently to strange women recite what went on in the night. She forgives him.

However, when she didn’t show for the first time, the day the jury issued its verdict, it seemed a timely reminder that a lot of women are tiring of that painful “tradition.” When the foundation of trust has all but eroded, the partnership itself becomes a lie. Some men have been cast out. Some women have left. Some communities have taken notice.

“We have built our city too much to let anybody tear it down!”

Many forces have worked to tear down this city’s black neighborhoods, but the failure of black leadership--beginning with Barry himself--is high among them. That the Barry trial overshadowed the current mayoral and council elections adds insult to an injured public trust. The uncritical silence of local leadership, as well as the black press, regarding the mayor was an unfamily-like and inexcusable reaction to crisis. The dirty laundry of racism and sexism aired by Barry’s misconduct pales next to the neglected issues of homelessness, infant mortality, youth idleness, malnutrition and the brutal violence of cocaine traffic ensnaring this community. Some judgment is finally due.

This time of healing must be about family rebuilding--frank and critical talk among those too enraged to disagree openly, followed by decisive action. No more blaming the neighbors, though the neighbors must come, too. This is about the need for Washington statehood. And while this is also about forgiving a man who labored long to serve the public, it is about time to forgo his leadership.