The Conservative Fantasy History of Civil Rights
The civil rights movement, once a controversial
left-wing fringe, has grown deeply embedded into the fabric of our national
story. This is a salutary development, but a problematic one for conservatives,
who are the direct political descendants of (and, in the case of some of the
older members of the movement, the exact same people as) the strident opponents
of the civil rights movement. It has thus become necessary for conservatives to
craft an alternative story, one that absolves their own ideology of any guilt.
The right has dutifully set itself to its task, circulating its convoluted
version of history, honing it to the point where it can be repeated by any
defensive College Republican in his dorm room. Kevin Williamson’s cover
story in National Review is the latest version of what is rapidly
congealing into conservatism’s revisionist dogma.
The mainstream, and correct, history of the politics of civil rights is as
follows. Southern white supremacy operated out of the Democratic Party beginning
in the nineteenth century, but the party began attracting northern liberals,
including African-Americans, into an ideologically cumbersome coalition. Over
time the liberals prevailed, forcing the Democratic Party to support civil
rights, and driving conservative (and especially southern) whites out, where
they realigned with the Republican Party.
Williamson crafts a tale in which the Republican Party is and always has been
the greatest friend the civil rights cause ever had. The Republican takeover of
the white South had absolutely nothing to do with civil rights, the revisionist
case proclaims, except insofar as white Southerners supported Republicans
because they were more pro-civil rights.
One factoid undergirding this bizarre interpretation is that the partisan
realignment obviously took a long time to complete — Southerners still
frequently voted Democratic into the seventies and eighties. This proves,
according to Williamson, that a backlash against civil rights could not have
driven southern whites out of the Democratic Party. “They say things move slower
in the South — but not that slow,” he insists.
His story completely ignores the explicit
revolt by conservative Southerners against the northern liberal civil rights
wing, beginning with Strom Thurmond, who formed a third-party campaign in 1948
in protest against Harry Truman’s support for civil rights. Thurmond received 49
percent of the vote in Louisiana, 72 percent in South Carolina, 80 percent in
Alabama, and 87 percent in Mississippi. He later, of course, switched to the
Republican Party.
Thurmond’s candidacy is instructive. Democratic voting was deeply
acculturated among southern whites as a result of the Civil War. When southern
whites began to shake loose of it, they began at the presidential level, in
protest against the civil rights leanings of the national wing. It took decades
for the transformation to filter down, first to Congressional-level
representation (Thurmond, who Williamson mentions only in his capacity as a
loyal Democrat, finally switched to the GOP in 1964), and ultimately to
local-level government. The most fervently white supremacist portions of the
South were also the slowest to shed their Confederate-rooted one-party
traditions. None of this slowness actually proves Williamson’s contention that
the decline of the Democratic Party in the South was unrelated to
race.
Williamson concedes, with inadvertently hilarious
understatement, that the party “went through a long dry spell on civil-rights
progress” — that would be the century that passed between Reconstruction and
President Eisenhower’s minimalist response to massive resistance in 1957. But
after this wee dry spell, the party resumed and maintained its natural place as
civil rights champion. To the extent that Republicans replaced Democrats in the
South, Williamson sees their support for civil rights as the cause.
(“Republicans did begin to win some southern House seats, and in many cases
segregationist Democrats were thrown out by southern voters in favor of
civil-rights Republicans.”) As his one data point, Williamson cites the victory
of George Bush in Texas over a Democrat who opposed the 1964 Civil Rights Act.
He correctly cites Bush’s previous record of moderation on civil rights but
neglects to mention that Bush also
opposed the 1964 Civil Rights Act.
Williamson does feel obliged to mention Barry Goldwater’s opposition to the
1964 Civil Rights Act, but defends it as a “principled” opposition to the
“extension of federal power.” At the same time, he savages southern Democrats
for their opposition to the 14th and 15th Amendments, Reconstruction,
anti-lynching laws, and so on. It does not seem to occur to him that many of
these opponents also presented their case in exactly the same pro-states'
rights, anti-federal power terms that Goldwater employed. Williamson is willing
to concede that opponents of civil rights laws have philosophical principles
behind them, but only if they are Republican. (Perhaps is the process by which
figures like Thurmond and Jesse Helms were cleansed of their racism and became
mere ideological opponents of federal intrusion.)
To the extent that the spirit of the all-white, pro-states' rights, rigidly
“Constitutionalist” southern Democrats exists at all today, Williamson locates
it not in the nearly all-white, pro-states' rights, rigidly “Constitutionalist”
southern Republicans, but rather in the current Democratic Party. This is
possibly the most mind-boggling claim in Williamson’s essay:
Democrats who argue that the best policies for black Americans are those that are soft on crime and generous with welfare are engaged in much the same sort of cynical racial calculation President Johnson was practicing when he informed skeptical southern governors that his plan for the Great Society was “to have them niggers voting Democratic for the next two hundred years.” Johnson’s crude racism is, happily, largely a relic of the past, but his strategy endures.
The strategy of crude Democratic racism endures! That this strategy has
sucked in more than 90 percent of the black electorate, and is currently being
executed at the highest level by Barack Obama (who — at this point, it may be
necessary to inform Williamson — is black) suggests a mind-blowing level
of false consciousness at work among the African-American community.
Williamson does stumble on to one interesting vein
of history, but completely misses its import. In the course of dismissing
Goldwater’s 1964 opposition to the Civil Rights Act, he notes that the
Republican Party declined to fully follow his lead. The party platform, he
notes, called for “full implementation and faithful execution of the Civil
Rights Act of 1964.” He does not mention that this language came after party
conservatives rejected amendments with stronger language endorsing “enforcement”
of the civil rights law and describing the protection of the right to vote as a
“constitutional responsibility.” (A bit of this story can be found in Ben
Wallace-Wells’s fantastic piece on
George Romney in the current print issue, and more in Geoffrey Kabaservice’s
“Rule
and Ruin.”)
It is true that most Republicans in 1964 held vastly more liberal positions
on civil rights than Goldwater. This strikes Williamson as proof of the
idiosyncratic and isolated quality of Goldwater’s civil rights stance. What it
actually shows is that conservatives had not yet gained control of the
Republican Party.
But conservative Republicans — those represented
politically by Goldwater, and intellectually by William F. Buckley and
National Review — did oppose the civil rights movement. Buckley wrote
frankly about his endorsement of white supremacy: “the White community in
the South is entitled to take such measures as are necessary to prevail,
politically and culturally, in areas in which it does not predominate
numerically.” More often conservatives argued on grounds of states’ rights, or
freedom of property, or that civil rights leaders were annoying hypocrites, or
that they had undermined respect for the law.
Rick
Perlstein surveyed the consistent hostility of contemporary conservatives to
the civil rights movement. Ronald Reagan, like many conservatives, attributed
urban riots to the breakdown in respect for authority instigated by the civil
rights movement’s embrace of civil disobedience (a “great tragedy that began
when we began compromising with law and order, and people started choosing which
laws they'd break, thundered Reagan”). Buckley sneered at the double standard of
liberal Democrats — in 1965, he complained, Vice-President Hubert Humphrey
attended the funeral of a white woman shot by the Klan for riding in a car with
a black man, but did not attend the funeral of a white cop shot by a black man.
The right seethed with indignation at white northern liberals, decrying the fate
of their black allies while ignoring the assaults mounted by blacks against
whites.
And of course this sentiment — exactly this
sentiment — right now constitutes the major way in which conservatives talk
about race. McKay
Coppins has a fine story about how conservative media has been reporting
since 2009 on an imagined race war, a state of affairs in which blacks routinely
assault whites, which is allegedly being covered up by authorities in the
government and media. “In Obama's America, the white kids now get beat up with
the black kids cheering,” said Rush Limbaugh in 2009.
We should not equate this particular line of
hysteria with Buckley-esque defenses of white supremacy, or even with
Goldwater-esque concern for states’ rights. The situation is obviously far more
different than it is similar. Conservatives are not attacking measures to stop
lynching or defending formal legal segregation. The racial paranoia of a Rush
Limbaugh or an Andrew Breitbart – Williamson defends
both
– is far less violent or dangerous than the white racial paranoia of previous
generations. That undeniable progress seems to be more tenable ground for
Williamson to mount his defense of conservatism and race. Conservatives ought to
just try arguing that, while conservatives were wrong to perceive themselves as
victims of overweening government and racial double-standards before the civil
rights movement triumphed, they are right to do so now.
They need to try something different, anyway.
The pseudo-historical attempt to attach conservatism to the civil rights movement is just silly. Here's another idea: Why not get behind the next civil rights idea (gay marriage) now? It would save future generations of conservative apparatchiks from writing tendentious essays insisting the Republican Party was always for it.
The pseudo-historical attempt to attach conservatism to the civil rights movement is just silly. Here's another idea: Why not get behind the next civil rights idea (gay marriage) now? It would save future generations of conservative apparatchiks from writing tendentious essays insisting the Republican Party was always for it.
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