Time Considered as a Helix

of Semi-Precious Liberals

In case you were kinda wondering what the Hell ever happened to those glory days of high adventure, low humor, solidarity, collegiality, egalite, and arm-in-arm marchery towards a brighter future-ery that used to characterize the Netroots, don’t worry.

They’ll be back.

They always come back.

How do I know this?

Because long before the Netroots became freighted with purity dwarfs and pessimists, doomsayers and shrill killbots, there was the IVI-IPO (Independent Voters of Illinois/ Independent Precinct Organization), which lived and (all-but) died and lives yet again.

As this 1997 article from The Chicago Reader explains, the story of the insurgent, well-educated, good-government group that took on powerful opponents and --

• Achieved critical mass,
• Found its moment and its niche,
• Did some good,
• Started doing dubious things for money (with the best of intentions),
• Was co-opted (with the best of intentions),
• Fell into a “pure-and-outsider” vs. “pragmatic-but-insider” schism (with the best of intentions),
• Was eaten alive from within by a few, power-hungry egomaniacs with the human sensitivity of "a shovel" and all the time in the world to harass, disrupt and sue-sue-sue (with the best of intentions)
• Ended up divided into factions of elites (each of whom had the best of intentions) whose endless infighting over small potatoes drove the rank-and-file away

-- is not new.

If you choose, you can read this as a bit of almost-forgotten political history from a recent-but-bygone era whose off-stage players – the Clintons, Gingrich, the Chicago Machine, (Alderman-now-judge) Tim Evans, (Alderman-now-Cook-County-Board-president) Toni Preckwinkle, the ghost of the Harold Washington Coalition -- are mostly still with us.

Or, if you’re a clever dog, you can read it as a roman à clef, substituting the names of your favorite Big Time Bloggers and/or political insiders for the dramatis personae of our lively little tale (one character that requires no jumbling around to come up with a 2011 equivalent is that of a young State Senator with the odd name of "Barack Obama" who explains in some detail why Liberalism ain't what it used to be.)

To be found filed under "Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall” (William Shakespeare)

Somewhere in the Twilight Zone.

Fighting Over Scraps
Once dedicated to good government, the IVI-IPO has gone from watchdog to lapdog.

By Jeffrey Felshman

I had no luck finding a job when I moved here in late 1983, but there were plenty of jobs to be had when election season started in early '84. I got one passing out leaflets for Jerry Meites's campaign for 43rd Ward committeeman. I didn't know what Meites stood for, didn't know what a ward committeeman was, didn't bother reading past the slogan "Meites to Unite Us." I just passed out the leaflets. It was a job; it paid $5 an hour. Then I met the candidate. He was pushy, arrogant, full of himself. I quit.

Meites lost, and that was the last I'd heard about him until the spring of 1996. An entity called Independents for a Qualified Judiciary ran a full-page ad in the Reader that said: "If You Want to Vote for Qualified Judicial Candidates, Don't Use the Sample Ballot Printed in IVI-IPO's Brochure!"

That sample ballot, a familiar sight at election time, listed endorsements from the liberal good-government group Independent Voters of Illinois-Independent Precinct Organization. But this ad claimed that a high percentage of the endorsed candidates had been found to be unqualified by both the Chicago Council of Lawyers and the Chicago Bar Association; depending on the district, that number ran anywhere from 25 to 50 percent. The ad said, "IVI-IPO's overall record on the subcircuits is so poor that its sample ballot is not credible." Meites's name was listed among the current and former IVI-IPO members who'd signed on to the ad. He was also chairman of the group.

So Meites was still around, and so was the IVI-IPO. Throughout the 80s the organization had been prominent in every campaign and had something to say on every issue. You couldn't live here without hearing that mouthful of initials. You couldn't miss their ads, couldn't avoid the leaflets with their endorsements in bold lettering. They were like a third party, except a word from them carried more weight than one from any Chicago Republican. Their spokespeople were quoted extensively in the newspapers, sometimes scolding, sometimes lauding, always positioned as the voice of virtue in the city's political mess. They weren't professionals--the IVI-IPO was a collection of amateurs, all volunteers, concerned citizens who wanted their politics clean and politicians worthy. Yet in recent years they'd faded from view. The ad attacking them was the first I'd heard of the group in a long time. What ever happened to the IVI-IPO?

I called Meites. He had a lot to say. "How about we meet for lunch?"
…

"I'm rarely asked to speak up," he said, "especially about IVI. Most of them want me to shut up."

In 52 years the IVI has had more than its share of windy lawyers, but Meites still stands out. Since joining in 1978, he has served on the organization's board and as the state chair. Now he's perhaps the most unpopular man in the group. He's also the ideal member: intelligent, dedicated, sincere, committed, hardworking, fanatical.

Meites told me the IVI-IPO's current leaders were trashing the very ideals the organization had been founded to uphold. "We toady up to, cozy up to politicians, instead of being like the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval on them, being people who observe them. Now we want to be in with them, we want them to like us." In the process, he said, the group has become what it's always hated--an insiders' game.

Meites knew all the stories and thought it essential that they be told. "Expose this dirt to the sunlight," he said, and maybe it would get cleaned up. Two hours later he was still talking.

He told amazing tales of dirty politics involving the group whose slogan is "Good Government--for a Change." There were problems with the Federal Election Commission, he said, and censorship and dirty tricks. Meites, who lives in Lincoln Park, claimed most of the dirty tricks came from some members in Hyde Park (the Hyde Park chapter is the largest and oldest in the IVI-IPO).
…

By and large, Meites didn't think it mattered much what the IVI-IPO did, in Hyde Park or anywhere else. The group itself didn't matter much anymore, he said. Even with the packing of endorsement sessions, or political tricks, "left to our own devices, we would have endorsed the same people anyway. Where it does sometimes matter is with the judges."
…

The IVI-IPO board voted [a now-almost forgotten sub-circuit rating] rule in. As a result, Meites said, the membership can't make an informed decision--without independent and anonymous peer review, members are swayed to the candidates of the board members' choosing.

"Why do they do this?" he asked. "Money. The judges are the biggest consistent source of money. The judges have a hard time getting heard through the noise of campaigns. You don't see judges with 30-second commercials. In my opinion, IVI's greatest efficacy is with the judiciary. The lower down the ballot, the more effective we are. No one voted for Bill Clinton because IVI endorsed him, or Dick Durbin, or Rod Blagojevich, for that matter.

…
After the rule change, Meites wrote protests to the organization's newsletter, "Action Bulletin," but none were printed. The IVI-IPO had always stood against censorship, Meites said, yet internally it had silenced opposition. As a result, he'd started sending letters to the membership, arguing the question at meetings, and writing letters to the editor of the Hyde Park Herald. Finally, he'd taken out the Reader ad. In the meantime, IVI-IPO's membership was sinking. Many of its famous names--Martin Oberman, David Orr, Larry Bloom, Mike Shakman (of the Shakman decree, which outlawed political hiring and firing in government jobs)--had quit.

Our water glasses were empty, and our plates were long gone. Meites said he had more, much more, to tell, but he had to get back to his office.

As Meites struggled into his trench coat, a beefy gray-haired man approached, noting cordially, "We couldn't help hearing what you were saying over at my table. You were speaking in a pretty loud voice." Meites nodded and apologized for having disturbed the man's lunch, but the man went on, "That's not why I came over. You were talking about some very sensitive things. You should watch out." The man turned away to rejoin his table, and Meites, taken only slightly aback, shook his head and said, "I'd broadcast these things if I could."

…
Current state chair H. Robert Bartell says the process had to be changed because of Meites and his "viciousness." Lois Dobry says, "Meites has said a whole range of things [about the process], most of which are not exactly true." She points out that Meites would like the process to be similar to that of the Chicago Bar Association, but "all those judges that went down in Greylord, they were all approved [by the CBA]."

The IVI-IPO is not gone, but it is largely forgotten--a minor presence in Springfield, barely mentioned in the press even at election time. The organization has become marginal, like liberalism and independent politics in general.
…

Bartell says that the IVI-IPO and its dissidents agree on 95 percent of the issues. Then why are its members so intent on slinging mud at each other?

"There are 29 liberals in the state of Illinois, and 15 aren't on speaking terms with the other 14," says Sherwin Swartz, who joined the IVI in 1953, served as its political director in the 70s, and quit in 1986.

At some point the term "liberal" became a euphemism for "pathetic chump." There's little room in politics for saints or martyrs, so there are fewer professed liberals. Lois Dobry says, "The best words to describe us are 'independent-progressive.'" Right in the mainstream. Since fewer than half of us vote, most of the electorate can be described as "independent."
…

"What it means to be an independent or a progressive is less clear today than in the past," says state senator Barack Obama. Consequently, "IVI's mission is less clear than it was." While Obama was glad to be endorsed by IVI-IPO, he says, "I would have won with or without their endorsement.

"Independent politics had more meaning during the years of the Daley Machine, but a lot of those victories against the Machine have been won." Obama says there's no longer one machine--there are many. "There are fiefdoms," he explains.

"The parties are so polarized now, it's difficult for an independent, liberal group to separate from the Democratic Party," Obama says.

Swartz claims the IVI-IPO's independence ended in the 1980s: "Enough of them got power drunk and said we can become the Democratic Party. It's become an adjunct of the Democratic Party. I object to the fundamental hypocrisy. They call themselves independents--who are they independent of? They're independent of the independents!"

So Swartz quit. "I put a major emotional and financial effort into IVI, but I won't send any more money. I don't have to launder money through them to the Democratic Party."

But Lois Dobry believes, "It's only if you can take over the Democratic Party that you're gonna make any big changes." As it did during the years of the first Mayor Daley, IVI-IPO has cast its lot with only a few aldermen--Toni Preckwinkle, Joe Moore, Helen Shiller, and Ricardo Munoz. Though Oberman says, "We're back to one-man rule in this town," he also adds: "It's not heavy-handed now." Unlike his father, Richard M. Daley never turns off the microphone on dissidents in the City Council, and he ignores the IVI-IPO entirely.

Swartz says, "City government is just like it was when the old man was there. There's just as much patronage, just as much graft, just as much corruption. The kid has it better than the old man [because] there's no independent movement. Who's around to point a finger?"

Oberman says the IVI-IPO's fingers are just pointing in the wrong direction, picking fights with each other instead of with Daley. "If they continue with this silly finger-pointing, they won't make a difference."

Carol Zavala, who quit the IVI-IPO in 1994 after 23 years, says Bartell and the other board members arrayed against Meites are "dysfunctional people and don't have much else in their lives. They're not normal…"

On the other hand, Rick Garcia, political director of the Illinois Federation for Human Rights and a former IVI-IPO board member, thinks Meites is "crazy" and says Bartell is "deeply committed, intelligent, and I have a high regard for him." But Garcia echoes Zavala. "There are so many dysfunctional personalities in there, they pass a new rule and bylaw for every individual in the organization."
…

Throughout the 1960s the IVI provided just about the only meaningful opposition to Richard J. Daley. For middle-class professionals shut out of the Machine, the IVI was just about the only game in town until 1969, when the Independent Precinct Organization was formed by a group of volunteers who'd worked on Eugene McCarthy's presidential campaign. Governed through a series of town meetings, the IPO became a north-side complement to the mostly south-side IVI. The IPO "was essentially Dick Simpson's operation," says Lois Dobry, "and it focused around getting him elected and following through with all the ideas that he had." The main idea, she says, was participatory democracy, carried out in nightly meetings between the alderman and the citizens. "Dick went to a meeting every night. If you wanted to be a Dick Simpson type of alderman you were going to live a very active life indeed."

The IPO had early success with aldermanic candidates Simpson, William Singer, and Richard Friedman. Then it experienced a drop-off. By the late 70s, both the IVI and the IPO had problems with money and declining membership. "We had a lot of crossover membership," Dobry says. "It seemed ridiculous to have two organizations." The groups merged in 1978, two years after the death of Richard J. Daley.

The IVI-IPO actually had some clout at the state level.
…

…Harold Washington's election in 1983 put the IVI-IPO at the center of Chicago's political map. If nothing else, city politics was exciting back then, maybe a bit too exciting. In the '83 campaign, Richard M. Daley's supporters shouted about Jane Byrne, "Ditch the bitch and vote for Rich." Bernard Epton's infamous "Before it's too late" was buttressed by "Epton, Epton, he's our man. We don't want no Af-ri-can," and the slightly more tolerant "Go get 'em, Jewboy!" The Washington campaign came up with the comparatively benign "It's our turn," yet that slogan excited the electorate more than any other.

The turn that blacks had been waiting for also became the IVI-IPO's turn. The mostly white organization claimed credit for pushing Washington over the top with its influence on the lakefront (though IVI-IPO liberal stalwarts such as Martin Oberman supported other candidates in the Democratic primary, Washington's vote totals in the lakefront wards were just high enough to justify the group's claim). Washington thanked the IVI-IPO, and membership shot up the following year.

Meites was one of the lakefront liberals who had worked in the Washington campaign. "IVI never had much of a minority membership," he says, "but for that one year it did." Most of the new members did not renew their memberships the next year. Many joined the "networks," ward-based organizations put together on the north side by Washington supporters. "People joined both," Meites says, but "people didn't know what to do with either. The networks were more active in the short term, but there was Council Wars and people were declaring their interest based on being anti-Vrdolyak. And the opportunity to build some sort of lasting progressive organization, which would have existed after Washington died, was lost. Of course, no one was thinking of that possibility. And people who had become very excited by politics, and were new to it, joined the networks. And then the networks died, and they never joined IVI."

Meites says the IVI-IPO became Washington's rubber stamp. "While Washington was mayor, IVI became a total apologist for him, to both his and its detriment. I thought we should criticize him when he was wrong, because if he was wrong 20 percent of the time he's still right 80 percent of the time, which is a lot better than anybody else." But there was little regard for gray areas in Chicago politics back then--you had to be either for or against Washington. "There were so many IVI board members, former board members, who became administration officials, people in the press depicted [IVI-IPO] as Washington lapdogs. We'd gone from watchdogs to lapdogs.”…

…
The IVI-IPO's membership has never been large--about 4,000 at its height, as opposed to about 700 now--but it comprised an elite core of committed political observers and activists. …

Now the more they scream at each other, the more they've wound up talking to themselves. They've gone on retreats, which haven't helped. They've brought in conflict resolution managers, and the conflicts escalate. The issues range from major to picayune. The alternative would be to shut down debate, but this would be truly hypocritical for an independent political organization.

David Igasaki, a board member for 25 years, says the arguments have become more personal in nature than ever before. Last January Igasaki said, "Things have become so personal that it's become much more difficult to compromise on issues."

Difficult? It's damn near impossible. And throughout 1997 it's gotten worse.

The IVI-IPO has a view of the el tracks from the seventh floor of an office building at Lake and Wells. The group won't be there long, however. The building is going condo.

Robert Bartell says there's still a machine running Chicago, but this one operates through privatization. Limiting patronage is meaningless if city services are contracted out to businesses. "The Machine has been driven underground where people can't see it, and they kind of like that it's all working," he says. "They like the sausages; they just don't want to know what's in the sausages."
…

Two years later, the IVI-IPO is still around--only the name of its principal attacker has changed. I ask Bartell if any of Meites's grievances are legitimate. He answers, "Jerry believes there's one true way to do things, and the other way is the wrong way." Bartell says Meites is playing nasty politics. "He excoriates people that don't agree with him. Jerry's style is to viciously attack." How about his criticism of judicial evaluations? "This is a personal vendetta by a man who thinks he should be running not only this organization but, I think basically, the world."

Bartell concedes that he and Meites actually agree on most issues. Both believe that the current system of electing judges is wrong and that a merit system appointing them should take its place. And both agree that an independent political group is now more important than ever before.
…

"This is all about control," Bartell began. "Jerry Meites wants to drag the organization down--he wouldn't be doing this otherwise. He spends $2,000 to piss on the organization during our fund drive." Bartell exploded. "If he can find a thousand new members, I'd step down happily. But he can't, because he's a fuckin' nut case!

"What are we? Good government nerds? He's a liar! I'll say it, L-I-A-R, eight hundred times! I'm sick of it."
…

Another board meeting takes place on May 28. Meites can and does speak. He's there to call for a repeal of the bylaw limiting access to the membership list, and his appeal is on the evening's agenda, though it's scheduled for the end of the meeting. Meites moves to discuss the matter earlier, but as soon as he begins to speak half a dozen people stand up and walk out the door.

Meites is about as sensitive as a shovel. If he cared what people thought of him, he wouldn't be showing up at meetings where he's so obviously despised. What he sees as issues are not issues to most of the people in the room. When he talks, most of them chew loudly on doughnuts, snicker, and groan.

"This bylaw will harm the organization and cause harm to the organization's membership," Meites says.

Annoyed, Saul Mendelson, the 80-year-old parliamentarian of the group, stands to make a point. "We didn't need a bylaw like this until he began his guerrilla warfare against the organization. He does this sort of thing in every meeting, and I suggest that we not waste time on this; we've got to get down to business."

Meites raises his hand. "A point of personal privilege: I haven't even been in a meeting since February."

Bartell calls for order. "We're not going to prolong the meeting for these personal attacks--"

Meites cuts him off. "Saul just personally attacked me."

A woman whispers, "This is so silly, so ridiculous," and departs through the back door of the conference room.

Bartell calls for a vote to change the agenda. The motion is defeated. The agenda remains the same. Meites compares the actions of the board to Richard J. Daley's turning off the microphone on Leon Despres: "IVI is turning off the microphone on its own members."

The vote on the bylaw is held at the end of the meeting, which has dragged on for more than three hours. During speeches, David Igasaki loses his cool, yelling and throwing papers. He gets the Meites treatment. He's openly laughed at. Pieces of doughnut fly from the mouths of chortling people. No wonder so many have quit--I want to quit and I've never even joined. "You're not gonna stay to the end?" Bartell asks sardonically as I get up to leave.

The bylaw was reaffirmed by a vote of nine to five. In June, Meites, along with Igasaki and 11 other members, filed a lawsuit to overturn it. In July, Igasaki, Meites, and allies Terry and David Rader ran for the board. In campaign statements sent to the membership from the IVI-IPO office, Meites attacked his opponent, Aviva Patt. David Rader said, "The current leadership has betrayed the founding values and principles of IVI-IPO." Igasaki charged, "Decision making has become shrouded in secrecy." Terry Rader, wife of David and an IVI-IPO member for 13 years, wrote, "Under these leaders, the organization has truly lost its way. In February, they and their supporters...passed a bylaw which prohibits me, as a minority board member, from using the organization's membership list to communicate with you unless the board permits it....And, of course, open access to the newsletter ended similarly about five years ago."

In contrast, Bartell's campaign statement ended on a conciliatory note: "I would like to close by saying that as State Chair I am proud to have fostered an atmosphere where some of the past board derisiveness has lessened. I believe that in IVI-IPO we agree on 95 percent of the issues, and perhaps disagree on 5 percent. Let's all work together on the 95 percent and help make the world a better place."

The campaign statements were sent to members from the IVI-IPO office several days after the ballots went out. The dissidents lost.

Their lawsuit will be heard this week. Lois Dobry calls it "harassment" and predicts it will be thrown out of court. Afterward, she says, the IVI-IPO will sue Meites and the others for court costs. "Jerry calls everybody names--he calls me names, he calls all of us evil. He always takes the attitude that he is morally right, the rest of us are morally wrong....I'm sorry for him. He used to be rather normal, but he has become so obsessional." As for the organization, Dobry says, "Will we once again become the dominant political force that we were? The answer is no. But will we survive? Yes. And," she laughs, "I hope Jerry gets better."

Nearly 15 years later, and the IVI is still here. Battered and battle-scarred, but still present and accounted for.

And 15 years from now the Netroots will – in some form -- still be here.

Why?

Because most of America is not "Liberal" in the same sense that most moms are not "ninja superheroes".

A mom can go about her peaceful business for years and years, never once ripping someone’s heart out and throwing their still twitching carcass straight into the Sun.

And then one day some damn fool decides to go after her kids…