The upcoming gubernatorial race in Alabama looks to be a rematch, if the front-runners, as expected, win their respective party nominations in the state’s May 19 primary elections: Doug Jones vs. Tommy Tuberville, senators past and present. We know Doug Jones, who improbably won a U.S. Senate seat in 2017, the first Democrat to achieve that feat in his home state in more than two decades, and then only with the problematic and scandal-ridden Roy Moore as his Republican opponent. Turns out that a Donald Trump endorsement can’t quite overcome sexual misconduct allegations. Years before that, Jones had led a team of state and federal attorneys who won convictions against two Klan members in the 1963 bombing of Birmingham’s 16th Street Baptist Church that murdered four little Black girls. Those efforts in the early 2000s brought a measure of belated justice to the victims, and Jones did earn some home-state admiration from those eager for Alabama to shake off its “Bombingham” past. Making a case for his candidacy, Jones is shining a light on bipartisan cooperation and legislative success during his sole Senate term as proof that he can get things done. We know a lot about Tuberville, as well, who bested Jones when he ran for reelection. Though the former Auburn football coach hardly dazzled voters with his government savvy — tossing out mangled info on the Constitution and World War II in an interview in the Alabama Daily News after that race — his margin of victory was substantial in the solidly red state. Since then, Tuberville has been one of the president’s staunchest Senate allies, and most recently made headlines for rejoicing that a Muslim school’s expansion plans were blocked. “Islam is not a religion. It's a cult,” he posted late last year on Facebook. “We've got to SEND THEM HOME NOW or we’ll become the United Caliphate of America,” caps all his. Tuberville has said in the past that he will “never stop fighting for Americans and our constitutional values.” Since achievement and test scores for the Islamic Academy of Alabama’s students are above the state average, perhaps Tuberville should have asked for educational advice from these particular Alabamians, whom he doesn’t seem to realize are his constituents. So, Tuberville hasn’t changed much either, still seemingly confused about the Constitution, especially its words on freedom of and from religion. No wonder my in-person question to Doug Jones was, “Has Alabama changed,” at least enough to give his gubernatorial run a chance? It was after a recent event at the Carolina Theatre in Charlotte, N.C., a live taping of the “Our New South” podcast, presented by the Levine Museum of the New South, with co-hosts journalist Kevin Blackistone and history professor Robert Greene II. During the interview and question-and-answer session, Jones looked back to his role models for inspiration, post-Jim Crow Southern politicians who helped raise their states from the bottom, in everything from health to education to job opportunities. Jones name-checked governors Reubin Askew of Florida, Terry Sanford of North Carolina, Jimmy Carter of Georgia, and one of his mentors, Sen. Howell Heflin of Alabama, for starters, “white politicians who saw that a region’s success depends on justice.” Though imperfect warriors for that justice, they were among a generation of leaders who realized that time, money and force of law spent maintaining separate and unequal kept everyone down. After some nudging by those in the audience, Jones placed himself in that lineage and used it as an example of what was and what could be again, if, he said, the younger generations get engaged and educated. And with a GOP that’s had the South in its hands for decades, a slate of fresh candidates up and down the ballot, and polls showing dissatisfaction with the party in charge, maybe change has a chance. That’s the hope of Doug Jones. His fears? That the country has taken a wrong turn when it comes to race relations. That voting rights continue to be a fight, with proposed laws that would enact more obstacles and federal oversight. That new generations will repeat the mistakes of the history he observed and lived through if the facts are erased and its lessons are not taught. The audience represented the “New South,” the people who wanted to hear Jones’ particular message, who shared his hope, but with more than a little skepticism: a young immigrant worrying about the future, a librarian bemoaning attacks on books, an Alabamian by birth wondering what she could do. Maybe the North Carolina setting had something to do with their doubts. The state has a Democratic governor, all right. But Josh Stein has no power to veto a voting map changed mid-cycle by the GOP-controlled state legislature, under Trump’s instructions to give his party more seats across the country. Maybe Jones is optimistic because he has seen and heard worse — prosecuted it, in fact. When remembering that time, he said “it means everything,” not just for the girls’ families, but for the entire community. For him, progress was and is the way. Mary C. Curtis has worked at The New York Times, The Baltimore Sun, The Charlotte Observer, as national correspondent for Politics Daily, and is a senior facilitator with The OpEd Project. She is host of the CQ Roll Call “Equal Time with Mary C. Curtis” podcast. Follow her on X @mcurtisnc3.
