Will Chicago once again become the city of tribes, racial and otherwise?
There's plenty of talk about it in the aftermath of the announcement that Mayor Richard Daley will abdicate the throne.
To help address the question of tribes, many of us have been looking back, to the pre-Daley years and the Council Wars period of the 1980s.
It was the time of Mayor Harold Washington, a colorful and ruthless black political boss, squaring off with Fast Eddie Vrdolyak, a colorful and ruthless white political boss.
The tribes formed, and each side played what we call racial politics that actually ended — though it's not popular in the sentimental histories — when Ald. Fred Roti, considered the political representative of the Chicago Outfit, voted with Washington instead of Vrdolyak on an issue.
There was some confusion in the council that day. But the aldermen figured it out soon enough. Council Wars was dead.
Yet Daley is fairly credited with ending the fractiousness, although what's left unsaid during this time of sentimental revisionism is that his own 11th Ward alderman was with the white guys, and that when he came to power, the mayor ended the infighting largely by dipping into the City Hall treasure vaults in what is euphemistically described as "neighborhood outreach."
But now the money is gone. And the competition for limited resources threatens again to break along racial and tribal lines.
Perhaps it's not what we remember in the sentimentalized history that can be most instructive.
Perhaps it's what we forget, willingly, because to remember is painful and ugly.
I was there, a young reporter covering politics. I was skinny then, and my hair was dark, but I remember it, and I'm sure others remember it, too.
It wasn't Council Wars that primed the political pump for Daley's extensive, powerful and mostly successful reign.
It was what happened after Washington died in November of 1987, when black political Chicago tore itself apart in a debilitating civil war.
And I don't hear or read enough mentions of it these days, as some of us try to apply context to the politics.
What do I remember of that time? I remember being at City Hall one night well past midnight. Downstairs, the aldermen were shrieking, selecting Ald. Eugene Sawyer, 6th, to replace Washington.
They were all shrieking. One of them, Ald. Richard Mell, 33rd, was standing on his desk in that famous photograph, flapping his elbows, yelling that the old guard had their new mayor.
Another colleague was covering for me in the council chambers as I was upstairs, in an office near Washington's own, with his political director and campaign manager, Jacky Grimshaw, watching it on TV. We were smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. Her staff was busy shredding documents, which happens every time power shifts at City Hall.
"There's going to be a call here soon telling me about the job I don't have anymore," Grimshaw said, smirking, a tough lady stabbing out her smoke.