Op-Ed Columns

Monday morning, peace, joy and contentment reigned over Anniston's new city government.

Gene Robinson, the new mayor, hugged his new councilmen.

The new councilmen, four in all, hugged back.

No punches were thrown. No barbs were tossed. Hands rested on Bibles, smiles brightened faces, laughter and applause bubbled from the assembled crowd.

Someone quoted from Isaiah.

Ezekiel, too.

Another quoted JFK.

A standing ovation ensued.

It was Anniston's collective singing of "Kumbaya."

They stood on a stage just off Noble Street and pledged teamwork and civic reconciliation. There was sincerity and genuineness. (Well, by most.) There was hope that, by the grace of God, this odd, quirky, potentially problematic grouping of men might actually make this thing called city government work.

If you'd been there, here's a sampling of what you would have heard these men say:

"We suffer from a lack of common vision."

"Ask what you can do for your city."

"I call on the council to be truthful."

"Together, we can launch the city down the path of the 21st century."

"The vision should be based on the whole community."

"We can't stop and let everything around us grow. We're going to have to water our garden, too."

"In politics, it's easy to do things that are right. We can't go back-and-forth behind closed doors. We have to do it in the public eye."

"The (city's) vision should transcend potholes and sewers."

"What people really want from their political leaders is (for them) to be good listeners, so I encourage the council to become good listeners."

"From the look of this crowd, we're going to have a lot of support from the city."

"We must have a common vision and united strategy."

"One people, one city … Let's be a Model City and show America how it's done."

"I, too, have a greater vision for this city."

"I pray that we will keep moving forward and we will not let each other down."

"We're going to make this work. We've got to make this work. We can't survive if we don't make this work."

Then Tuesday happened.

Fire and brimstone.

"So, you're trying to say I'm lying?"

Fireworks and acrimony.

"Yes, I am."

Finger-pointing and outright lunacy.

"I have never come in to this council and lied. I object to you calling me a liar over this paperwork. So don't call me a liar anymore, Mr. Robinson."

Accusations and insults.

"You're making false statements. You don't know what you're talking about."

And an apology. Might as well. Everything else had already been said.

"We need to act like gentlemen."

Amen.

In one fascinating two-day span this week, Annistonians watched their new mayor and councilmen give each other public embraces — no small task, mind you — promise to be team players, quote from the Bible, shake hands as if they're long-lost buddies, talk about shared unity and common vision, make us believe they'll check their egos and ideologies at the door, and then implode in one fireball meeting that I pray is not a nasty precursor to the next four years.

Of course, that's what it is.

I'm flummoxed, as are countless others. Many Annistonians are trying to give these guys the benefit of the doubt, to give them a chance, but it's already seeming as if the chance for civil discourse is fleeting. Can Robinson, a man with no political experience and apparently no verbal filter, be an effective mayor? Can he lead without calling people liars? Can Ben Little rise above his ineffective style of leadership? Can John Spain, the new vice mayor, be a calming voice of reason, or is he neutered like a 12-week-old pup by simply being one of this lot?

After this week, no one has a clue.

They've been sworn in, they've met once, and already they've fought and heard accusations of racially motivated decisions and conflicts of interest. It's the worst possible scenario. Granted, the council made immediate progress — it dropped the needless McClellan lawsuit, it ended the silly police escort for councilmen's meeting packets. Accomplishment born among the animosity. But did it have to be done this way?

What exists today is a council seemingly divided: The three new amigos — Robinson, Spain and David Dawson — seen as a public counterweight against Little and Herbert Palmore, the two returnees. It's a horrible perception for the city that it's 3 vs. 2, white councilmen on one side, black councilmen on the other side, regardless of whether race has anything to do with it. (It doesn't.) Though residents will have to make that judgment themselves.

If these men are going to lead Anniston for the next four years, Annistonians must demand from them professionalism and comportment. The city doesn't need this style of leadership.

On Monday, these five men promised us great things. Teamwork. Unity. A level-headed approach to negotiations and disagreements.

On Tuesday, some of them forgot what they'd said the day before.