The fatal encounter between Ferguson, Mo., police officer Darren Wilson and Michael Brown one year ago might be inseparable from the issue of racial bias and law enforcement — but it was a two-sided clash. And in ignoring that fact, this week’s recommendations from the Ferguson Commission provide a perfect example of how to only partially solve a problem.
From boosting the minimum wage to expanding Medicaid eligibility to consolidating the area’s sprawling police and court systems, the 16-member panel, appointed by Missouri Gov. Jay Nixon in late 2013, offers a blueprint for change in a community blighted by poverty and neglect.
Without a doubt, Ferguson’s policing needs improvement. But no amount of municipal funding or police reforms, officer databases or any of the other “policy calls to action” will make an impact without a fuller — and more honest — accounting of what actually led to Brown’s death.
Indeed, from the moment the Brown case made national headlines, America has been confronted with an either/or: Clouded by a storm of protests and politics, the Brown case has been repeatedly framed as the ultimate example of either police racism or teenage hooliganism — but not a combination of the two.
In reality, Brown’s death is sadly steeped in both elements — a delicate pas de deux between Brown’s own dubious behavior and the fatal responses of officer Darren Wilson. And no matter how painful or unfortunate, each player’s actions must be considered within the context of the other — both by the general public and the Ferguson Commission in its quest for reform.
To be clear: This is not about “blaming” Brown for his death — which is, ultimately, a horrific tragedy. But Brown has also served as a rallying cry for a movement — if not an entire generation — deeply invested in his near martyr-like status.
As they see it, Brown is the victim of a racist police force. They have a point: The Ferguson Commission confirms that the city’s police department is clearly tainted by racial bias and injustice.
But the facts around Brown are as clear as his final moments remain murky: a young man confronted by police after robbing a store and roughing-up its owner.
Brown’s case is unlike three other recent causes taken up by Black Lives Matter — Eric Garner, targeted by cops in Staten Island for selling loose cigarettes; Trayvon Martin, creepily tailed by a civilian with a gun; or Tamir Rice, virtually shot on sight in a Cleveland park.
Rather, Brown committed a crime, igniting the chain of events that ultimately cost him his life.
Again, race can in no way be discounted from this equation. Had Brown been white, for instance, officers like Wilson would probably have engaged with him far less forcefully — or fatally. And if Brown had been white, it’s unlikely his body would have been left to bake for hours in the hot summer sun.
But equally true is this: Had Brown not broken the law, he almost certainly would have never tussled with Wilson in the first place. The grand jury that exonerated Wilson clearly understood this. And for panels like the Ferguson Commission to be truly effective, they must also fully acknowledge both sets of facts — no matter how much they challenge or chasten the status quo.
In the wake of Brown’s death, activists have sought — and rightly demanded — policies to combat police brutality. And the Ferguson Commission has forcefully echoed these sentiments with recommendations ranging from new civilian review boards to improved training methods.
With little mention of either funding or political will, such suggestions have been met with skepticism and criticism.
An opinion piece in The Guardian dismissed panels like the Ferguson Commission “as rid[ing] out the tail of a social change wave . . . not lead[ing] it” — a tail they say is wagged by Black Lives Matter.
This is the flip side of the common conservative critique of the Justice Department’s own report on the incident last year, which many on the right saw as merely confirming the left’s preconceptions of police racism.
Of course, such “either/or” thinking is precisely the mindset that has prevented the nation from productively and fully addressing the death of Michael Brown. Brown, in fact, makes for an imperfect victim. But it’s irresponsible and self-defeating for the Ferguson Commission to ignore those imperfections.