CHICAGO The Rev. Jesse L. Jackson’s opulent lifestyle has prompted many of his critics here to ask the obvious question: Where does the 59-year-old activist get the money to pay for three homes, first-class travel and a $3,000 monthly child-support payment to a former mistress?
“It’s a question mark we’ve all had for years,” said Chris Dudley, former executive director of the Illinois Republican Party. “He’s got front-row seats at the [Chicago] Bulls games. He’s undoubtedly a wealthy man.”
“That’s a good question,” added Don Beachem, vice chairman of the Illinois Minority Community Alliance, a Cook County sheriff’s deputy who claims to have his finger on the pulse of Chicago’s sizable black community.
“The only thing I can tell you is what I hear from other people,” said Mr. Beachem. What he hears is that Mr. Jackson’s financial support comes from “his organizations, from PUSH, the Rainbow Coalition, from the Citizenship Education Fund. I’d imagine there is some grant money in there, too.”
The conglomerate of eight nonprofit and public organizations that Mr. Jackson is affiliated with are for the most part financed by the generosity of corporate America and a multitude of loyal followers.
The organizations include the 30-year-old People United to Serve Humanity (PUSH), the Citizenship Education Fund (CEF) both of which are tax-exempt and nonprofit and the Rainbow/PUSH Coalition, formed in 1996 as a for-profit corporation.
The complaints among many of his critics in Chicago are loud and clear: Mr. Jackson, under the guise of selflessly promoting social change, has lined his pockets.
He has an estimated annual income of about $300,000.
Mr. Jackson’s home, a large two-story white stucco located a half-mile from the Rainbow/PUSH Coalition headquarters on this city’s south side, sits in the upscale Jackson Park Highlands.
It’s an old section of town that, despite the high levels of crime which forces homeowners to put up barred windows, is also given to beautifully baroque houses that are valued on tax rolls between $100,000 and $125,000.
At various times, Mr. Jackson also owned two other homes, one in Washington purchased for $100,000 in 1985 and another in Greenville, S.C., purchased in 1984 for $40,000.
Steve Taylor, publisher of a regional black newspaper, the Kankakee City News, recently wrote an editorial accusing Mr. Jackson of playing the race card to make himself one of the wealthiest black ministers in the nation.
Mr. Jackson denies such accusations and said he has simply lobbied major corporations to steer business and capital toward minority entrepreneurs.
“Rather than race, we talk business,” Mr. Jackson said. “If what I have to offer holds no value to [a corporation], then we don’t talk.”
The companies that do talk and give out money, some of them Fortune 500 corporations, have become generous contributors to the nonprofit organizations led by Mr. Jackson.
The CEF, for example, has received nearly $4 million in pledges from SBC-Ameritech, AT&T, Viacom, GTE and Bell Atlantic in recent years.
Mr. Jackson, though, is uncharacteristically humble about his standing in the national black community and his role in attracting corporate largesse.
“This is my job,” he said during a 90-minute interview with The Washington Times.
He dresses like any other businessman, wearing a conventional suit with his tie often askew as he tackles his daily duties of redressing perceived racial and economic injustices.
Mr. Jackson noted with his customary wry smile that he could have ridden his profile as a prominent civil rights activist to great wealth. He pointed out that when, in the early 1970s, he negotiated black ownership of several Chicago-area car dealerships and numerous McDonald’s franchises, he could have cashed in personally.
“I could make more, but I’m not interested in that,” he said. “One or more of those franchises could have been mine. I have no piece of them.”
Mr. Jackson points to his current passion of attracting capital for black businesses as an example of what he does for a living.
Self-dubbed as “The Wall Street Project,” it is a movement to persuade corporate America to invest in minority businesses. It has seen some significant results, including a commitment by AT&T to have $1 billion in bonds brokered through Blaylock & Partners LP, a black-owned firm in New York.
The civil rights leader, however, is never far from the pulpit. He greets his local followers at a traditional Saturday morning service in the ornate sanctuary of the Rainbow/PUSH headquarters.
The 300 or more people who attend about 10 percent of them white listen to Mr. Jackson’s every word as he speaks to them in hushed tones.
Backed by a six-piece band and a choir, Mr. Jackson presides over a service that is like any other in America, save for one thing: At the back of the massive hall is a 10-by-10 banner of Mr. Jackson, a testament to his powerful charisma and popularity among his followers.
The service is broadcast on cable access television and local radio. And at the end of the service, as at any religious service, the contribution plate is passed around.
Please read our comment policy before commenting.