If Detroiters look closely enough, they’ll see the truth about their mayor, Kwame Kilpatrick, spelled out for them in the subtext of the torrid messages that he sent to his former chief of staff, Christine Beatty.

They’ll see “I am arrogant." “I am untouchable.” “I am so untouchable that I can type out sexy messages to my lover’s city-issued pager -- and later lie under oath about us being lovers.”
 
But, as it turns out, the messages were seen. First by The Detroit Free-Press, then by the rest of the city. And even though the messages are five to six years old, they still reveal much more than a temporary lapse in judgment by Kilpatrick.

What they reveal is a pattern of hubris.

Problem is, Kilpatrick’s hubris isn’t just hurting him personally. It’s hurting the majority of Detroiters who, in 2005, were gracious -- some would say foolish -- enough to give him a second chance at being their mayor.

Look where it’s gotten them.

Right now, there’s a real possibility that Kilpatrick and Beatty could wind up being tried for perjury. That’s because during a whistleblower trial last summer, they both denied having an affair.

The trial was the result of a lawsuit that two police officers filed against the city, claiming they were unfairly punished by the mayor for looking into allegations of misbehavior by his bodyguards. The jury sided with the officers, and the city wound up awarding them around $8 million -- courtesy of Detroit’s beleaguered taxpayers.

If Kilpatrick and Beatty wind up in a perjury trial, imagine what a distraction that would be, as if people in Detroit need more of that.

Then there was the time, in 2005, when Kilpatrick finally was forced to admit that yes, he did allow the city to lease a red Lincoln Navigator for his wife -- for $24,995. Never mind that Detroit was facing a deficit of around $300 million.

Before that, he had repeatedly denied that charge.

Now, some of the scandal that has ensnared Kilpatrick may have to do with immaturity. He was 31 when he became the youngest mayor in Detroit’s history. Sometimes, when a person is young, he or she may tend to use power as a license to behave more spoiled than humbled. He or she may be guided more by desire than by fear of consequences.

But what’s sad here is that if history is any indication, while Kilpatrick may have to fear legal consequences, he likely will have no consequences to fear from a majority of the voters. No matter that much of Detroit still is littered with dilapidated houses and crumbling streets, nor that unemployment is around 14 percent and that scores of Detroiters can’t read. Never mind that in 2005, Kilpatrick was named one of America’s worse mayors by Time Magazine.

Many people in Detroit will see him in much the way that they see themselves; as strugglers in a society that continues to conspire to find ways to bring black people -- and black men especially -- down.

One of the reasons Kilpatrick won reelection, in fact, was by appealing to the people who ought to be the most appalled by the price tag on his problems. People living in poor neighborhoods and young adults struggling on society’s periphery tended to support him. They trusted Kilpatrick more than the media or, for that matter, anything that symbolized a society that keeps them on its margins.

That’s sad.

It’s sad because of what they don’t see. And what they don’t see is that when black elected officials mess up, the people they hurt the worse are them -- the poorest black people.

They are the ones who wind up paying the price for the arrogance and immaturity of the Kilpatricks of the world, because whenever money is doled out to pay for that, that’s less money lying around to help them deal with their problems.

But maybe the next time around, they’ll remember. Or, if they forget, all they need do is revisit Kilpatrick’s steamy text messages to Beatty -- and see the hubris hidden between the lines.