Commentary: Little Rock loses control

Losing control upsets the state’s capital city

Little Rock's not in charge any more. This week, they found that out. They aren't happy.

The news of the week is the state Legislature's little trick to give some of our area's lawmakers a way out of a tight spot on health care. I'll mention more of that below. The bigger surprise was just how far the once-mighty have fallen. That involved the Little Rock School District. Monday, the district's superintendent got replaced by Bentonville's with hardly so much as an introduction.

Let's ponder that. The governor of Arkansas and his state Department of Education director decided to pick a new superintendent for the Little Rock School District, which the state has taken over. They did this without clearing the move with, or even consulting, a lot of major players in Little Rock first. I presume that's because they knew those players wouldn't like it. Granted, they didn't clear it in Bentonville either, but saying "He's leaving" and "Here's your new school superintendent" are quite different things.

Poor Little Rock. Being one of the few remaining strongholds of the state's heavily outnumbered minority political party has serious drawbacks. We could tell them a few stories about that.

I'm not sure how much of the subsequent outcry in the capital city came from distress over losing Baker Kurrus and how much was umbrage at not being asked. Columnist John Brummett wrote that the sudden change "managed maybe for the first time in decades to galvanize Little Rock on something having to do with its public schools." That -- sadly -- largely explains why the district had to be taken over by the state in the first place.

Little Rock schools never successfully integrated. Although eventually released from court supervision over integration itself, the much-more-bitter-than-it-had-to-be fight crippled public support. We should remember how fortunate in this regard we are up here. I'll never forget the remarks of an alumni of the first integrated class at Fayetteville High School in the 1950s. He appreciated being a guest of honor at the banquet, but to the students of the time integration was no big deal. To them, it had long seemed dumb to bus black students out of town to go to a segregated school. He was right.

Now, as for the second thing when people had to make allowance for the Northwest and its allies this week: Appropriating federal health care reform money passed, using what some gifted headline writer dubbed "veto bait."

In a contrivance, the Legislature passed a budget on the condition that the governor line-item veto part of it. This was done to get some of our legislators -- none from Little Rock -- to not kick more than 250,000 people off health insurance.

Normally, I'd call this a cynical ploy. I tried, but can't work up a good lather of righteous indignation. A legalistic stunt got around a small, remnant minority that was using a bottleneck to hold up the state budget.

I'm not relieved that the "Arkansas Works" health care plan passed. I'm relieved that the long fight about a program that buys health insurance for one out of every eight Arkansans is over for now. At least we get a break.

Others aren't relieved. I've had the pleasure of interviewing some quite reasonable, rational people who still oppose this. They make a good case. Their efforts were often undermined by their more openly partisan, quotable or bitter brethren.

The problem they faced is they were a heavily outnumbered minority. As recently as last week, people told me that most Arkansans still don't like the program, even though opposition in the Legislature had dwindled to a mere 25 percent. They might even be right. But most people have become resigned to it. They got tired of the constant fight. This dispute has gone on since 2013.

The second-guessing of a clear majority decision gets old, even when you don't agree with the decision. To echo Blues legend Howlin' Wolf, speaking of a gifted but quarrelsome guitarist he finally cut loose, "I didn't mind the fights, but he wouldn't give me no rest."

As I've written before, when a strongly anti-"Arkansas Works" candidate can't get more than 505 votes in a special election in Springdale, this isn't an issue any more. That March 22 runoff for the state House was the perfect opportunity for a few high-interest, one-issue voters to make all the difference. They didn't.

Commentary on 04/23/2016

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