Barack Obama's nomination has been in the bag for months, but the Congressional Black Caucus, which was split down the middle by the contentious Democratic primary race, is still trying to get a foothold in the new political climate. Some former Hillary backers, like John Lewis, now wonder how they and their constituents could have ended up on the opposite ends of the spectrum. After spending their whole lives fighting tooth and nail for civil rights, how could they not support the man who would eventually become the first black presidential nominee for a major party in the United States? There are a lot of reasons why so many black politicians were firmly in Clinton's corner — they had a relationship with the Clintons and, like everyone else, figured that Obama would be out of the race by Super Tuesday. But then Iowa happened, changing the minds of voters of all races, but particularly black voters who had previously thought that the Clintons had it in the bag. And therein lay the divide. Voters were ready for someone new and fresh. Someone unlike the old-school folks in the CDC, those very same men and women who were left scratching their heads when their constituents dropped the Clintons in favor of Obama.

In a New York Times Magazine article that is well worth a read, writer Matt Bai asks the question "Is Obama the End of Black Politics?" I'm not sure, but it wouldn't be a stretch to say that he's the end of black politics as we know it.

The stalwarts from the Civil Rights movement — the John Lewises and the Jim Clyburns — have grown old, and a new, post-Civil Rights clique (think Obama, Newark's Cory Booker, and Gov. Deval Patrick), guys who went to integrated schools and never had to march on Selma or languish in Southern jails, are taking over. These younger politicians, with their Ivy League diplomas and cross-over appeal, have reaped the benefits of the old school's fight. Their very existence on the political landscape speaks to the resilience and dedication of guys like Lewis and Clyburn, as well as Obama-detractor Andrew Young and Jesse Jackson, who wants to do you know what to Obama's you know whats. Clearly, the generational divide isn't easy to bridge.

This newly emerging class of black politicians, however, men (and a few women) closer in age to Obama and Jesse Jr., seek a broader political brief. Comfortable inside the establishment, bred at universities rather than seminaries, they are just as likely to see themselves as ambassadors to the black community as they are to see themselves as spokesmen for it, which often means extolling middle-class values in urban neighborhoods, as Obama did on Father’s Day. Their ambitions range well beyond safely black seats…

But as Booker himself noted, they are a world away from the reality that was pounded into civil rights activists like his parents, to whom racism meant dogs and hoses and segregated schools and luncheonettes. You can imagine what James Clyburn — still haunted by the vivid memory of the moment he found out that his erudite father had never been allowed to graduate from high school — would make of the lifelong trauma caused by suburban kids asking to feel your hair.

If Obama is elected President, it will be interesting to see how he and the Clinton supporters in the CBC, some of whom are surely still bitter that their candidate lost and that they were portrayed as self-haters or Uncle Toms for endorsing her, find common ground.

What do you think? Will Barack Obama's success turn "black politics" into just "politics?"