by Abdul-Hakim Shabazz, Esq.
There was a time—not that long ago—when the Marion County Democratic Party looked like an unstoppable political machine. They had the Mayor’s Office, a supermajority on the City-County Council, and a deep bench of young, diverse, and ambitious leaders who could fundraise, organize, and win elections in their sleep.
Fast forward to 2025, and it feels like we’re watching the final episodes of a once-great series that should’ve ended a season ago.
The current implosion didn’t begin with the recent sexual harassment scandal surrounding former mayoral chief of staff Thomas Cook, but let’s be honest—it sure has sped up the descent. The allegations, the subsequent removal of survivors from the council chambers, and the stunning lack of transparency from City Hall have cracked the foundation the Democrats built their local empire on: moral authority and accountability.
And through it all, County Chairwoman Myla Eldridge has remained notably silent—an absence that grows louder with each passing day. At a moment when moral leadership is desperately needed, hers has been nowhere to be found.
It wasn’t always like this. Remember 2019? Democrats were riding high. Joe Hogsett coasted to re-election, and the Council looked like a blue fortress. Even Republicans grudgingly admitted that Democrats had figured out how to play the local game. There were rising stars in every quadrant of the city. The bench was deep, the money was flowing, and the GOP couldn’t field a credible mayoral candidate to save their lives.
But it turns out that winning elections and governing with integrity are two very different skill sets. And somewhere along the way, Marion County Democrats forgot that voters don’t just want power—they want you to know what to do with it.
The signs of decay started showing last year. The Hogsett administration was already beginning to feel bloated and directionless in its third term. There were quiet grumblings about staff turnover, lack of vision, and a general sense that no one was steering the ship. Then came the mayoral campaign, where Hogsett phoned it in like a candidate who wasn’t sure he even wanted the job—and still managed to win, largely because Republicans handed him the gift of a self-destructive opponent.
But the worst was yet to come.
The Cook scandal, and the city’s response to it, exposed a deeper rot. This wasn’t just about one man’s alleged misconduct. It was about a culture of complacency and protectionism. The fact that Cook remained on the job for 68 days after allegations surfaced, and the mayor seemed unaware of—or indifferent to—the optics, speaks volumes.
Add to that the embarrassing moment when women were literally dragged out of the council chamber for trying to speak—and then, somehow, those in power acted surprised that people were outraged. This is what happens when you confuse control with leadership.
Now? The party’s unraveling in real time.
Multiple Democratic councillors have broken ranks and called for Hogsett’s resignation. Others are pointing fingers behind closed doors. State-level Democrats are quietly distancing themselves. And local voters—particularly women—are watching with clenched jaws.
What’s worse, there’s no clear plan for what comes next. The once-promising next generation of Democratic leadership—people like Vop Osili, Ali Brown, and others—are now wrapped up in this mess too. Some were silent. Others were complicit. Few, if any, have stepped up in a way that inspires confidence.
And just when you think things couldn’t get messier, enter the Marion County Republican Party.
You’d think they’d be poised to capitalize on the chaos. A city run by Democrats, rocked by scandal, hemorrhaging trust, and alienating voters? That’s a political gift with a bow on top.
But let’s not get carried away.
The Marion County GOP is like the kid who finally gets invited to the dance but shows up wearing a tuxedo from 1983 and no rhythm. Their messaging is inconsistent, their candidate pipeline is shallow, and they’ve spent more time fighting over internal party nonsense than actually presenting a viable vision for the city. The last mayoral candidate ran like a contestant on a reality show, not someone prepared to lead a major urban center.
Yes, they’ll score some easy talking points from this Democratic dumpster fire. But unless and until the GOP gets serious about recruiting qualified candidates, investing in infrastructure, and appealing to voters beyond the angry suburban fringe, they’ll continue to play the role of opposition in name only.
So where does that leave us?
Maybe this is the reckoning both parties need. Marion County Democrats need to remember what leadership actually looks like. Marion County Republicans need to figure out what relevance looks like. And the voters? They’re left sifting through the ashes of one-party dominance, wondering if anyone—anyone—in local government is willing to put people over politics.
But here’s the thing: it’s not too late. The Marion County Democratic Party can course-correct—if they start listening to the public, demanding accountability from within, and acting like they still remember why they got into politics in the first place. There’s still time to turn things around—before they cross the Rubicon and lose the trust of an entire generation of voters.
The fall has already begun. The only question now is whether anyone has the courage—or the credibility—to rebuild from the wreckage.
Abdul-Hakim Shabazz is a licensed attorney and the editor and publisher of Indy Politics.
