Abigail Thernstrom, the Republican-appointed vice chair of the United States Commission on Civil Rights, says no:
The majority-black districts to which the civil-rights community and its allies in the media and the academy are so committed also appear to act as a brake on black political participation. A number of first-rate scholars have found that safe black districts dampen electoral turnout; why bother to vote when the outcome will surely be the election of one black candidate or another — all likely to support the same policies once in office? In addition, racially gerrymandered lines that wander all over the landscape may bring black families under one majority-black political roof, but they make organized political activity more difficult. A townwide civic organization, for instance, will find it harder to campaign for an issue or candidate if it has to mobilize in separate congressional districts arbitrarily drawn to further black officeholding.
In 2011, does black political inclusion really still depend on protecting black candidates from white competition in race-based districts? When black families pursue the American dream and move from city to suburb, do they need to be kept in their old majority-black congressional district? Once upon a time, treating all blacks as members of a “community” made sense; white racism obliterated social class and other distinctions. But today? Is real racial progress a figment of the conservatives' misguided imagination?
While I'm not as sanguine as Thernstrom about the willingness of whites (particularly white Southerners) to vote for black candidates, I am inclined to agree with her main point: African Americans interests are harmed by corralling black voters into a handful of majority-minority districts. That's not to diminish the political and cultural significance of descriptive representation -- it's really important for African Americans to have officials that look like them -- but to highlight the possibility for greater substantive representation. Whites might not be particularly willing to vote for black politicians, but white politicians are more than willing to solicit black votes. Allowing African American votes to diffuse within several districts could do more to enhance black political representation than creating a single majority-minority district.
That said, I think Thernstrom gives short thrift to the idea of a shared black political experience. Obviously, it's possible to go too far with the idea of a shared African American experience -- black people in the suburbs of Virginia Beach different (significantly, even) from black people in the neighborhoods of Washington D.C. -- but there's no avoiding the fact that African Americans across the country share similar beliefs on a whole host of issues, from economic assistance to health care. As long as the district maintains some geographic coherence, it's not wrong for black suburbanites to share a district with their inner-city counterparts.
In any case, it's refreshing to read a conservative take on racial politics that isn't laced with hostility, condescension, and thinly-veiled prejudice. More so than most conservatives (and even a lot of liberals), Thernstrom comes across as someone genuinely interested in black political representation. Given the paucity of conservatives who can speak intelligently on race -- or at least acknowledge the political legitimacy of black people -- this is worth a highlight (even if I'm skirting close to the "soft bigotry of low expectations).