By Abdul-Hakim Shabazz
We’ve seen this before.
A public tragedy. A downtown shooting. Lives lost, outrage sparked, headlines written. City leaders make statements. Police hold a presser. And then… silence. Shrug. Reset.
Rinse and repeat.
On July 4, chaos erupted downtown. Two teenagers dead. Five others shot. All within blocks of where we roll out the red carpet for tourists, conventions, and college recruiters. It happened near the heart of our city’s brand — and just steps from where we pretend downtown is “back.”
You’d think this would be the moment for the downtown business community to step forward—loudly, clearly, forcefully. But instead? Crickets. You could hear a pin drop on Georgia Street if it weren’t for the sirens.
Let’s be blunt: Downtown Indianapolis is not okay. Between the shootings, the unchecked homelessness, the wave of youth violence, and a sexual harassment scandal at the top levels of city government, we are one bad headline away from turning “Circle City” into “Crisis City.” And no amount of Instagrammable murals or pedestrian plazas is going to change that if people don’t feel safe coming downtown after dark—or even during the day.
But let’s not pretend the business community is powerless here. You’ve stepped up before. Remember RFRA? When the state tried to pass off discrimination as “religious freedom,” it was Indy’s business and civic leadership that stood up, pushed back, and forced change. Remember mass transit? You helped lead the charge. You’ve flexed your voice before when the stakes were high.
So where are you now?
This isn’t just about civic pride or quality of life. This is about the economic health of the city. If downtown dies, the rest of the city doesn’t get to pretend it’s fine. The Circle is still the beating heart of Indy’s brand—and right now, it’s showing symptoms of something serious. And let’s be honest, it’s a hell of a look when two kids get gunned down on Washington Street and the city’s response is… mild discomfort and a curfew.
Meanwhile, the mayor’s office is still dealing with the fallout from a sex scandal involving his former chief of staff—who apparently had a habit of mixing romance with contracts and city money. The young woman at the center of it? Still getting paid by the city. And somehow, there’s no public plan, no internal reckoning, no reform agenda.
Let me be clear: I’m not telling the business community to demand the mayor’s resignation. That’s not the ask. But given everything—the shootings, the scandal, the homelessness, the overall public confidence nosedive—it is more than fair to publicly ask: Is Joe Hogsett still the right person to lead us forward? And if he is, then what’s the plan? Where’s the urgency? Where’s the leadership?
At the very least, he should be asking himself that question. And there’s nothing wrong—nothing radical—about the business community saying out loud what a lot of folks are whispering privately.
And if you’re worried about retaliation for speaking out, here’s my advice: they can’t retaliate against all of you. Especially not if your names are Eli Lilly, Cummins, Salesforce, or Anthem. There is safety in numbers—and power in coordinated pressure.
And while I get that groups like the Indy Chamber, Visit Indy, and Downtown Indy Inc. all receive grant money from the city and don’t want to tick off the wrong person, I’d ask this: imagine being too afraid to take your own family downtown because you fear for their safety. Imagine being the small business owner terrified about what this will do to her bottom line. Or the police officer who has to worry a little more each night because it looks to him like you don’t care—and yet he’ll still put his life on the line to protect people who haven’t even bothered to show up for him.
And while we’re at it—let’s talk about that Downtown Improvement District tax. Is this what you’re paying for? The privilege to sweep up shell casings after a holiday weekend? The honor of worrying if you’ll still be in business next quarter because leadership is allergic to urgency? That’s not improvement. That’s a bad deal.
And allow me to be so bold as to say this on behalf of all rational, law-abiding, hard-working Black folks in Indiana: race has nothing to do with this — it’s about behavior. Accountability isn’t prejudice. Criticism isn’t code for bigotry. If you’re staying silent because you’re afraid someone might think you’re racist, I get it — sort of. But if you’re using that fear as a convenient excuse to avoid confronting real problems — or worse, to hide the fact that you actually do hold some ugly opinions — then that’s not caution, that’s cowardice. And if your real reason for not speaking up is that you’d rather let the city burn than be seen standing alongside young Black kids, struggling families, or police officers trying to hold the line, then just say that. Because we already know.
And honestly, if you’re not smart or decent enough to tell the difference between calling out dangerous behavior and harboring dangerous bias, you were probably destined to go out of business anyway.
And if things happen to look better this weekend because the WNBA All-Star Game is in town? Don’t kid yourself. The best time to fly is right after a plane crash. Don’t mistake a temporary show of order for a lasting fix.
Your silence right now isn’t neutrality—it’s complicity.
This is your moment to do more than cut ribbons and sponsor jazz nights. Lead. Speak up. Demand change—not just on crime, but on homelessness, youth outreach, and good governance. Say publicly that what’s happening downtown is unacceptable. Put your names on a letter. Call a press conference. Call the mayor. Demand a plan. Offer to help. But do something.
Because the city’s elected leaders may not be ready to confront this moment. But if you’re downtown business owners, property developers, restaurateurs, hotel execs, and employers—you have a stake. You have a voice. You have the megaphone. Use it.
If not now—after the shootings, after the scandal, after watching public trust crack like an old sidewalk—then when?
You’ve saved the city’s reputation before. Don’t wait until it’s too late to try again.
Because brunch won’t save downtown. Neither will silence.
Abdul-Hakim Shabazz is the editor and publisher of Indy Politics. He is an attorney licensed in both Illinois and Indiana.
