Charlie Rangel, Harlem’s longtime political titan, is gone at 94. The former New York congressman, whose presence was felt on Capitol Hill for nearly half a century, died Monday, leaving a legacy that’s both impressive and divisive, as the New York Post reports. His passing marks the end of an era for a man who thrived in the old-school political machine.
Rangel, elected in 1971 after toppling Rev. Adam Clayton Powell Jr., served 23 terms in the House, cementing his status as a Harlem legend. His death on Monday sparked tributes from figures like House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries and businessman John Catsimatidis, who lauded his impact on Harlem, New York City, and beyond. This outpouring of praise conveniently sidesteps the controversies that dogged his later years.
Starting his career by defeating a political giant, Rangel quickly became one himself. He joined the “Gang of Four,” a Harlem power bloc with David Dinkins, Percy Sutton, and Basil Paterson, shaping Upper Manhattan’s political landscape for decades. Their influence, while formidable, often leaned on insider deals and progressive promises that didn’t always deliver.
Rangel’s roots as a Harlem youth made him a local icon. “You couldn’t walk down a street without someone calling his name,” Catsimatidis said, painting a picture of a man deeply embedded in his community. Yet, that same community often bore the brunt of the big-government policies Rangel championed.
His legislative prowess was undeniable, with City College of New York noting he led all colleagues in passing laws. Named after him, their school of public service reflects his impact on Harlem’s institutional landscape. But let’s not kid ourselves -- more laws don’t always mean better outcomes.
The “Gang of Four” wielded outsized influence, steering Harlem’s political direction with a mix of charisma and clout. Their era, though, was as much about power consolidation as it was about progress. It’s a reminder that political dynasties often prioritize loyalty over results.
Rangel’s 23 terms in Congress earned him the title of most effective lawmaker, per City College’s statement. That’s no small feat in a place where egos clash and bills stall. Still, effectiveness in Washington often means piling on bureaucracy, not cutting through it.
“The Lion of Lenox Ave was a transformational force,” Jeffries wrote on X, a nod to Rangel’s larger-than-life presence. Transformational, sure, but for whom? Harlem’s persistent struggles suggest his victories didn’t always trickle down.
“Harlem, NYC & America are better today because of his service,” Jeffries added. That’s a bold claim when progressive policies Rangel backed -- like expansive welfare programs -- have left mixed legacies. Good intentions don’t always mean good results.
“May he forever rest in power,” Jeffries concluded, a poetic but predictable eulogy. The rhetoric feels more like political posturing than a candid reflection on Rangel’s complex record. Rest in power? How about rest in accountability?
Catsimatidis called Rangel “a symbol of Harlem, a fighter for justice, a skilled diplomat.” Fifty years of friendship colored that praise, but justice fighters don’t always get a free pass. Rangel’s ethics scandals, though not mentioned in tributes, linger in memory.
“Charlie was a Harlem youth,” Catsimatidis noted, emphasizing Rangel’s local cred. That connection fueled his rise, but it also shielded him when controversies, like his 2010 House censure, threatened his legacy. Popularity can be a powerful deflector.
Rangel’s death closes a chapter on Harlem’s political history. His ability to navigate Congress and build alliances was unmatched, yet his progressive agenda often fed the very systems that keep communities dependent. Actions, as they say, have consequences.
The City College of New York’s tribute highlighted his legislative dominance, a point hard to dispute. But dominance in a broken system isn’t always something to celebrate. Rangel’s laws shaped America, for better or worse.
Harlem mourns a native son, but his story is a cautionary tale. Power and popularity don’t guarantee progress, and Rangel’s legacy -- equal parts triumph and trouble -- proves it. Here’s hoping the next generation learns from both.
