Prosecutors will ask for a minimum of 28 years in prison as they make their case before Nancy G. Edmunds, a judge in United States District Court for the Eastern District of Michigan. The punishment would rank among the nation's toughest for major state and local public corruption cases.
Mr. Kilpatrick, 43, was convicted of two dozen counts in March that included charges of racketeering and extortion, adding his name to a list of at least 18 city officials who have been convicted of corruption during his tenure as mayor.
His sentencing comes at a sobering moment for the city he once led, which is now remaking itself in bankruptcy court as residents wrestle over whom to blame for the fiscal mess. For Detroiters, Mr. Kilpatrick's meteoric fall — from potential savior of a struggling city to prison-bound symbol of financial mismanagement — may be the closest they will get to holding past leaders accountable for decades of disappointment and poor fiscal decisions.
"He's become the poster child of what went wrong with the city and why it went bankrupt," said Adolph Mongo, a political consultant who worked for Mr. Kilpatrick's re-election campaign. Yet he said it was unfair to pin the city's problems on any single elected leader.
"It was a house of cards," Mr. Mongo said of Detroit's fiscal health. "Kilpatrick was the last card. He fell and it knocked everything down."
Or, as prosecutors recently wrote in court documents: "Kilpatrick is not the main culprit of the city's historic bankruptcy, which is the result of larger social and economic forces at work for decades. But his corrupt administration exacerbated the crisis."
Joseph Harris, a former auditor general for the city during Mr. Kilpatrick's first term, said that the former mayor was just one in a string of leaders who failed to fully address the crisis of a shrinking tax base amid growing employee health care and pension costs.
Mr. Kilpatrick also increased the city's debt obligations to fill budget gaps while he was in office. A $1.44 billion borrowing deal he brokered in 2005 to restructure the city's pension liabilities, though applauded by many at the time, added to the city's estimated $18 billion in long-term liabilities.
His lawyers, who are pushing for a sentence of no more than 15 years, have emphasized Mr. Kilpatrick's achievements as mayor and argued that he is being unfairly targeted as a scapegoat for the city's insolvency.
"While blaming Kilpatrick for Detroit's current status feeds the prejudices of uninformed bloggers and online opinion polls, it is a cheap shot to argue that the losses occasioned in this case led to Detroit's filing for bankruptcy," his lawyers wrote in a documents filed with the court this week.
Known as Detroit's "hip-hop mayor," Mr. Kilpatrick became the youngest person to hold the city's top position when he was first elected in 2001 at 31. He brought new attractions to the city's riverfront and much-needed business investment downtown. But scandals and questions about possible misuse of city finances dogged his nearly seven years in office, ultimately ending a political career that had once seemed destined for the national stage.
In 2008, Mr. Kilpatrick resigned after he lied under oath during a police whistle-blower lawsuit and approved an $8.4 million settlement to try to cover it up. After pleading guilty to charges of obstruction of justice, Mr. Kilpatrick served four months in jail and was ordered to pay $1 million to the city. He was soon behind bars again for hiding assets from the court and telling a judge that he could afford to pay only $6 a month in restitution.
The former mayor and Bobby W. Ferguson, a city contractor and a friend, were indicted in 2010 on sweeping corruption charges. All told, prosecutors contend that Mr. Ferguson received $73 million worth of city contracts as a result of contract-rigging and extortion schemes with the help of Mr. Kilpatrick. He was convicted of nine counts and will be sentenced on Friday.
But there are Detroiters who believe that where Mr. Kilpatrick's illicit dealings may have done the most damage was to the city government's reputation, scaring away honest businesses and making it easier for state officials to justify an unpopular move: the appointment of an emergency manager, Kevyn Orr, who now runs the city and filed for Chapter 9 protection this summer.
Others said they were tired of hearing about Mr. Kilpatrick and were more focused on the challenges of living in Detroit, the nation's largest city to navigate bankruptcy court, than in arguing about how it got there.
"Maybe instead of blaming Kwame we should thank him for getting caught," said Al Conway, 45, who runs a hot-dog stand outside of City Hall. "It brought a light on a lot of issues that needed to be addressed."
