In autumn 1955, barely half a year after Richard J. Daley's election as mayor and little more than twice that since the onset of urban renewal, black civil rights attorney Pauli Murray voiced his outrage over the racial segregation then characteristic of national public housing policy. Comparing such discrimination to that practiced in
South Africa, he warned that "(I)t would be better for the Federal Government to get out of housing altogether than be the instrument of such barbarism." Certainly the state of Chicago's public housing in the 1990s-as described in The Hidden War: Crime and the Tragedy of Public Housing in Chicago-enhances Murray's stature as a prophet. Authors Susan J. Popkin, Victoria E. Gwiasda, Lynn M. Olson, Dennis P. Rosenbaum and Larry Buron examine the 'humanitarian disaster" that has unfolded under the watch of the Chicago Housing Authority (CHA). The authors seem particularly concerned with the CHA's youngest charges, asserting that the plight of the children caught in such "urban war zones," a phrase used to describe particular projects and their surrounding neighborhoods, would, under different circumstances, attract international attention. . .
The evolution of public policy is handled concisely and comprehensibly
in the book. . . . Focusing on the last decade, the authors present three case studies . . . that make extensive use of survey data, oral histories, press accounts, ethnographic observations and a burgeoning secondary literature. . . . The Hidden War brings the CHA story up to date and delivers more nuanced complexity than readers might expect from its somber tone and grimly pessimistic conclusions.
Two points emerge with clarity. First, despite crushing environmental
burdens, there is no monolithic "culture of poverty" dictating inevitable outcomes. . . . Second, public policy matters. The devotion of scarce resources to revitalization instead of security worked to the advantage of some in Horner, while it devastated Ickes. The cultivation of a stable core of older residents and their insulation from adverse conditions also seemed to offer promise in both developments, but could not be sustained given the pressures of demolition, relocation and the less-than-stringent
screening of applicants. And, germane to both points, individuals such as Rockwell Gardens organizer Wardell Yotaghan made a positive difference. In short, human agency counts. . . .
Something needs to be done, but what? The authors . . . view action as a moral imperative. The CHA, HUD and city government, they conclude, "owe CHA residents, especially the thousands of children who still live in the terrible high-rises, a serious effort to try to help them improve their lives." The claim is indisputable,
but moral exhortation provides a slender reed upon which to place the
weight of necessarily costly and sustained public interventions. Nor
does the placement of market-value housing on CHA sites address the
issues. As Pauli Murray understood, those with power are rarely driven
by such mandates.