Memphis has long been the bugbear used to frighten rural, right-leaning Tennesseans. Now, as the National Guard and other federal agencies making up the Memphis Safe Task Force occupy the city, my beloved hometown is serving that same purpose at the national level.
Make no mistake about it, this initiative is pure political theater, albeit theater that can and will have very real and potentially permanent and life-altering consequences for Memphians. It’s not lost on me that Memphis is a majority-Black city, an island of blue voters amid a sea of red. The current state of affairs also brings to mind the severe power crisis that Texas experienced in the winter of 2021, as well as the national dialogue about the incident, which more or less amounted to, “let ’em freeze; they asked for this when they cast their votes.” Leaving aside that no municipality is a monolith and votes in perfect accord on every issue, that kind of thinking is cruel, short-sighted, and hopelessly wrongheaded.
Memphis is a Southern city with a history of bucking the state political trends, a so-called dangerous city, and so one imagines that sentiment might range from “maybe this will fix things” to “lock ’em up, they asked for this when they didn’t fix their own problem.” And yes, crime is a problem in Memphis, but an occupation by federal troops is hardly the most science-backed method for attempting to resolve that issue. I’m forced to wonder what a busload of federal dollars and a series of Baltimore-like social programs might do to combat crime, addiction, and poverty here.
Over the past several years, that Maryland city implemented a series of social programs, such as the Clean Corps, in which unemployed and underemployed individuals were hired to clean and maintain vacant lots; Baltimore Together, a multi-year Comprehensive Economic Development Strategy aiming to foster inclusive economic prosperity; and the Complete Streets Ordinance, which elevated the priority of pedestrians, cyclists, and transit users. They fought addiction by partnering with nonprofits and healthcare providers, attempting to destigmatize addiction and give drug users an off-ramp. They increased funding for mental health services and better housing. In short, the city, led by Mayor Brandon M. Scott, worked to address the root causes of poverty, addiction, and crime. The result? Violent crime is down, and in 2024 the Community Justice Action Fund ranked the city at No. 2 in the nation in its Violence Prevention Index report.
Of course, evidence-based practices such as these are likely not as successful if one’s aim is to intimidate political rivals. Sending the National Guard to a city sends a clear message to the rest of the nation: Toe the line, or you’ll be next. I’m sure some folks in the suburbs feel a little safer — I’ve seen those op-eds in the past week or so — but how many of the majority of Memphis’ citizens actually feel protected and cared for?
Memphis and its people are being demonized in order to justify this so-called crusade against crime. Memphis is being made an example of so that people who have never been there, who already have money and power and an inordinate amount of control, can hoard more of the same without criticism from anyone who sees through this charade.
As of this writing, more than 500 Memphians have been arrested. Wiser individuals than I have voiced concerns about pretextual traffic stops, the potential dire consequences to Memphis’ Black and immigrant communities, the blatant authoritarianism on display when federal forces descend on a city to tackle civic issues, and more. I’ll leave the finer points to the bigger brains and say only that it flies in the face of the values this country was ostensibly founded on for the president to take a hand in local affairs in this way, even more so to single out cities based on the voting records of their populations.
Sending in a dozen national agencies to “protect” a city works well as an intimidation tactic. The best way to fight crime, however, is to address its root causes, treat people like the human beings they are, and work together to find a solution based on actual data and human empathy.
Jesse Davis is a former Flyer staffer; he writes a monthly Books feature for Memphis Magazine. His opinions, such as they are, include the belief that Memphians have what it takes to make the city what they want it to be.