Chicago's Loud Revolution: The Blackstone Rangers

SUMMER has become a bad season for Chicago police. 1966 was no exception. The city was once again in the limelight as a center for violence and crime. A major Puerto Rican riot, a major Negro riot, open housing marches led by Martin Luther King, counter-demonstrations by George Lincoln Rockwell, and the Speck massacre: each crisis made the policeman's job more hectic and trying. But during the summer, the police faced another, less-noticed problem-the rise of the Mighty Blackstone Rangers, a well-organized, tightly - disciplined street gang, which, according to police statistics, is the toughest and most violent teenage group ever to roam Chicago's South Side. The Ranger's unimpeded success forced urgent evaluation of existing relations between police and ghetto youth.

In dealing with youth crime, the Chicago Police Department's official policy reflects a sociologically enlightened position acceptable to most critics. The foreword to the Youth Division Manual states, for example, that "Youth crime is increasing steadily in consequence of the expanding youth ratio of our population . . . Positive police action is necessary . . . Of great importance in this effort is the need for the police and particularly the Youth Division officer, to understand the social, cultural, and economic forces underlying the disposition to crime and to use this knowledge for its prevention."

As this philosophy filters down through the ranks to the officer on the beat, it changes into what might be called a "be tough" attitude. The officer who comes into direct on-the-street contact with delinquent youth works from a less "enlightened" frame of reference than downtown bureaucrats. The Ranger's slogan--"We the people of Blackstone, in what we do we do the best"--evokes the following comment from a local youth officer: "Their slogan makes sense. What they do best is shoot, stab, fight, intimidate, extort money from businesses, and threaten little kids into paying them dues." Bullets do not discriminate, and when the policeman puts his life in dangers every day he has little use for the "sociological nonsense" taught at school.

The policeman justifies this "be tough" attitude as a matter of self defense. Underlining his position is the obvious inadequacy of juvenile courts and social agencies in deterring or rehabilitating juvenile offenders. Police officers rapidly lose confidence in courts and social agencies that return offenders to the streets, naively hoping they are rehabilitated. After arresting the same youth numerous times, the officer wonders what use, if any, are juvenile courts and youth counselors.

This failure of "social justice" further convinces the officer that street-corner justice dispensed by a nightstick is far more effective than existing means. After all, more often than not, the police officer grew up in an atmosphere where police night-sticks and gun butts were more powerful than courts. From personal experience he knows its effectiveness. But in the era of social awareness and middle class guilt, the policeman is harshly criticized for holding views that years ago were accepted as right or, at least, effective.

In Chicago, the Blackstone Rangers also create another sort of dilemma. On one hand they are the terroristic street gang. Police estimate the Rangers are responsible for twenty to twenty-five shootings a month. Their extortion fund produces literally thousands of dollars in bail money each month. Hardly a day passes, when the Rangers are not accused of a violent offense.

On the other hand, they represent a force of social-activism within their community. The Rangers' meeting place is the First Presbyterian Church in Woodlawn. The Reverend there not only openly supports the Rangers but feels "the group has a lot of value . . . our future community leaders may come from it." Another Reverend praises the gang for resisting "the pressure some West Sides brought on the Rangers to start something here (in Woodlawn) during the West Side riots. But instead the Rangers worked hard among their members to keep the lid on."

Other Ranger activities have included picketing City Hall, frequently visiting their alderman, and campaigning successfully to move out alcoholics who bummed around a local saloon strip. The Rangers will tell any and all listeners of their desire for peace and good jobs. In a way, they are a cross between feudal territorial lords and ghetto Robin Hoods whose forest is a shadowy 63rd Street under the E1 tracks.

In other words, to use a coined term, the Rangers are social dynamite. Their membership numbers upwards of 1500, ranging in age from young teens to twenty-two year old leaders. As a gang the Rangers carry a big charge; a charge so energetic and vocal that it thrusts the Rangers into a new classification markedly different from past teenage street gangs.

Not only are the Rangers a "new breed," but they operate in a new social situation. In recent years, ghetto inhabitants have grown increasingly restless as the gap between their social economic expectations and their actual advances widens. Ghetto leaders and their allies outside the ghetto, in attempting to reduce this gap, often challenge government policies affecting ghetto life, particularly police practices. The police are sandwiched between rising social sensitivities and the increasing strength of the Rangers. What is the department to do?

Mayor Richard Daley's desk is buried under the badges and guns of policemen who have resigned in frustration. Those who stick with the job share a distaste for "enlightened" methods forced upon them by the Police Department elite policy makers. Indeed, a policy must evolve that confronts the cops' beefs and provides for the sociologist's ideas.

II.

THE problem suggests no simple solution. The "be tough" policy, for example, is not so antiquated as many Americans think it is. Rough ghetto life teaches a youngsters to revere violence. Prowess with your hands or a gun is prerequisite to financial success and the first step in winning the respect of other youngsters. As crude as it sounds, being tough can effectively curb criminal action where youth are involved. Yet, the policeman cannot be very tough. Even the most ignorant street corner punk is totally aware of his rights as an American citizen: he knows that the police cannot lay one hand on him.

Ideally, of course, the police should not have to use force and terror to make an impression. Social agencies should be able to instill gang youth with respect for law and order. But the fact is that in "hard core" cases the social agencies, by their own admission, have failed. As a result, the police have a problem: the ghetto youth, whose life has repeatedly taught him to respect only physical power, has only limited respect for the powerless policeman. Part of the answer to gang crime, then, is a reevaluation of the "be tough" policy. Putting these youths on the receiving end of police bullets or nightstick often opens their eyes to right and wrong. The hard facts of the situation require that, oftentimes, gang guns will have to be met by police guns if law and order is to prevail in ghetto streets.

But being tough presents its own problems and offers no universal solution. Many youth--including many Black stone Rangers--will gain nothing from extra police power. There are limits to the persuasiveness even of pain. Moreover, being tough often leads authorities to take some action which only makes things worse. Excessive force--"brutality" -- embitters Rangers. Similarly, they gain no great respect for the law when slapped with exorbitant bonds for minor offenses or when they wind up on the raw end of a police "deal" --exchanging their guns, for example, for reduced charges in court; only the charges don't get reduced. The line separating "be tough" tactics from the "more enlightened" approach is naturally fuzzy; no one, even the experienced policeman, can always draw it neatly.

But even if the police were capable of destroying the Rangers, one might question the desirability of eliminating the gang. The Rangers are a symbol, representing the way toward a better future for the members of the gang and other youth in Woodlawn. The Rangers wield more power in Woodlawn than any civil rights group or social action committee. It is estimated they can mobilize 1000 youth within an hour to picket or kill. In destroying the gang, the police would extinguish a torch.

The best policy, then, would seem to be to redirect the Rangers, not to beat them or fool them. The Chicago police, following this line of thought, went so far as to arrange a peace treaty between the Rangers and their main rivals, the Disciples, last summer.

What was surprising was that a concilitary effort had been made in the first place. No one expected a conservative-minded police organization to take such an unprecedented step. Such initiatives, however, are likely to become more frequent under the leadership of progressive police superintendent O. W. Wilson.

The success of future programs will hinge on the police department's ability to establish a firm--and possibly sometimes friendly--rapport with the Rangers. This can only happen if the police begin to treat the Rangers fairly and communicate with them as individual youngsters with distinct problems. Getting the confidence of the Rangers will not be easy, especially for police who are, by definition, working at cross-purposes with the gang. Racial and class differences complicate the problem. In addition, a Blackstone Ranger's entire life has taught him to trust no one. Typically a Ranger comments, "Nobody kept a promise to me since I was three years old and before that I don't remember."

The police will continue to have problems with the Rangers whatever they do. And with these problems will come indignation and complaints from the public and the press. The police, as they so often are, will be in the middle. They do not create the conditions that cause crime, but they must contend with the results. The police cannot "solve" the fundamental social and economic problems of the ghetto, but they will remain the object of criticism and abuse as long as the ghetto preoccupies and worries the public