A Tale of Two Philosophies in the Civil Rights Movement

 

Ecclesiastes 9:11: “The race is not to the swift - It is not by swiftness, nor by strength and valor, that races are gained and battles won.” The Bible teaches that “races” are won by humble virtues like perseverance, excellence and diligence. Christianity’s spread across the ancient Mediterranean world was due in large part to Christians’ persistence in doing good –from saving unwanted babies to caring for the poor and orphaned on Rome’s streets- even under the enormous pressure of persecution. Christianity didn’t conquer the ancient world by overturning the Roman state. No doubt there were those who resented Rome and wanted to fight fire with fire, like the Jewish zealots before them. But this was not to be. Christians chose the plan laid out in the Bible. It was doubtless far harder in the short run, but it guaranteed a lasting victory. Christianity won through sheer perseverance, beating an overconfident but napping Rome at its own game. As the Emperor Julian said, “Nothing has contributed to the progress of the superstition of the Christians so much as their charity to strangers… the impious Galileans provide not only for their own poor, but for ours as well.”

This classic conflict between power and humility, speed and patience, self-confidence and endurance has been played out many times in history. A more recent example can be found in the civil rights movement. The man who was in many ways the father of the movement was Booker T. Washington. He had been born in slavery, the illegitimate son of a white landowner. After his family was freed following the Civil War, Washington had to pull himself up by the bootstraps through working grueling jobs like tending a salt furnace and mining coal. He then worked himself through a secondary education and was appointed as the head of the Tuskegee Institute, a new school for freedmen. Over the years, Washington created a vast network of entrepreneurs, philanthropists (many of them white) and charitable organizations to fund schools and vocational opportunities for African-Americans throughout the South. Although he also worked to end Jim Crow laws and supported civil rights initiatives, his philosophy was not primarily one of setting blacks’ political power against whites’. He believed that any enduring victory won by African-Americans would have to rest on a more solid foundation than ballot-boxes and legal jargon on paper. Just like Christians’ victory in ancient Rome, this would have to be a victory over the hearts, minds and pocket books of the enemy. Better to overcome mistreatment and discrimination by showing how baseless they were than by wresting power and winning a legal victory only. The key was "…industry, thrift, intelligence and property." Washington encouraged African-Americans to become the very best in whatever field they worked. This far-sighted and conciliatory attitude is made even more remarkable when one recalls the difficult circumstances of Washington’s early life and all the reasons he had to harbor bitterness.

But it made him enemies, including a fellow black intellectual named W.E.B. Dubois. Dubois had tremendous talent, the result of an innate gifting helped along by both an upbringing in relative wealth and a Harvard education. Understandably, he was tired of African-Americans plodding along at a snail’s pace towards freedom and acceptance. But this impatience and frustration with discrimination in attitudes and laws - though he had not experienced them the same way Booker T. had – pushed him to advocate for a faster solution. Dubois viewed education and power as the only way to achieve true equality, and he vocally opposed Washington’s strategy, even going so far as to give him the nickname “the Great Compromiser." Through attaining positions of influence in the government, the legal system and academia, African-Americans would be able to shape society to win full equality. Eventually this emphasis on a top-down approach to equality led Dubois and the organization he helped found, the NAACP, to embrace socialism. According to this view, the slow, steady methods of Washington were tantamount to treason

Dubois’ desire to see his race achieve equality in his lifetime was certainly a noble intention, but noble intentions can be hijacked by impatience. If that impatience is allowed to define beliefs, it can lead to embracing the gravely erroneous notion that the “ends justify the means.” Booker T. Washington’s ideas promised no immediate change and may not have not had as much appeal at the time for that reason, but they’ve been vindicated in retrospect. Regardless of the political power wielded by African-Americans, the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s would have been impossible to win long-term without the support of whites nationwide. That support was gained between the 40s and 60s largely because African-Americans had (knowingly or not) followed Washington’s advice: they became the very best at whatever they did. African-Americans’ skill as sports heroes (like Jackie Robinson and Mohammed Ali), singers and musicians (Sam Cooke, Chuck Berry, Ray Charles, Nat King Cole, the Supremes and the Temptations) defined the popular consciousness of the entire nation during the 1960s. Every teenager listened to Doo-Wop, Rock and Roll, Soul and Motown – all genres that had their beginnings in African-American music. Through television and radio, African-American stars found their way into every home and car. A whole generation grew up seeing that the other race was every bit as capable of innovation as their own. African-Americans had won the battle of the mind and heart, therefore ensuring victory in the political battle that Martin Luther King Jr. would lead.

Booker T. Washington’s capitalistic and individualistic philosophy was thus vindicated, making it all the more unfortunate that fifty years later it’s in danger of being thrown away. When the Civil Rights Act of 1964 was passed, people mistook the culmination of the civil rights movement for its cause. They seized the opportunity to invoke Dubois and use the state as a sort of “savior” for African-Americans. This has since become the prevailing philosophy in talks about equality between the races. It has created endemic dependency on government, poverty. It has also fostered a bitterness and victim mentality that had no place in the life of the one who began the movement - one who had actually known the horrors of life as a slave. Washington would be appalled. In eschewing power and instead stressing industry, excellence, patience and winning the war of the mind, he recognized that it was folly to exchange aristocratic Southern masters for a whole government of far more powerful masters.

The Forgotten Father of Constitutional Liberty

Stephen Langton, from the exterior of
Canterbury Cathedral

Very little is known about Stephen Langton's childhood. What we do know is that he was born in the late twelfth century in the county of Lincolnshire. He first emerges from the shadow of obscurity as a star pupil at the University of Paris, where he befriended a fellow student who later became Innocent III, the most powerful of medieval popes. Thanks to this friendship, Langton was made a cardinal years later. He became renowned throughout Europe as a prolific expositor of scripture, publishing commentaries and treatises  - he even divided the Bible into the chapter/verse format we're so familiar with today. As profound as these accomplishments were, they pale in comparison with his greatest.

Hundreds of miles away, Langton's home was being torn between the teeth of Normans and Saxons, rich and poor, barons and king, church and state. The latest controversy was who would be Archbishop of Canterbury and therefore control the English church. King John had his man who would be sure to be loyal to the Crown, and the churchmen of England had theirs. Innocent III, ever intent on strengthening Papal power wherever it reached, saw an opportunity here to bring the English church firmly under Rome's control. He stepped in and engineered the election of a third candidate: a friend and a champion of the church; someone who would take orders from Rome without question. Langton's election was thus engineered, and King John's vengeance predictably broke out like a torrent.The struggle mounted until the king's plundering of the church resulted in his excommunication.

As serious as this conflict was, in English minds it was only a sideshow to one that had been simmering for centuries - that of barons and king. Every monarch since William the Conqueror had seen his greed for land, power and money frustrated by his equally greedy nobility. These barons were tired of spending their lives and fortunes in fruitless contests for what they considered the foreign lands in France.This friction between throne and fief had embroiled the kingdom in almost constant civil war for generations. Now that King John had been declared apostate by the church, this civil war became a holy war for the barons.

There seemed to be a thousand different ambitions clashing in the realm, like a pack of dogs tearing each other to pieces without a goal in mind. Langton saw an opportunity to bring order from the chaos, and it was now that he leaped into the contest. He had been reminded of something which the lords and churchmen of England could use to the advantage of themselves and the kingdom and posterity. He called for a council of churchmen and barons at Westminster, where he reminded those assembled of a certain "Charter of Liberties" which John's great-grandfather, Henry I, had been compelled by the barons to sign. True enough, that charter had dealt with only inconsequential matters like the illegality of certain fees kings had been accustomed to collect. But Langton saw here a precedent: that kings, too, were under the law. The Charter of Liberties should be expanded, renewed, and used to keep a lawless king accountable. With loud shouts of acclamation, the council swore an oath to conquer or die in defense of their liberties.

By now, however, the wily king had outmaneuvered his enemies. By swallowing his pride and submitting to the pope he had secured a powerful ally, but it had not been without a price. John's olive branch was nothing less than England itself - it would be governed as a Papal fief. Innocent III had jumped at the opportunity, but Langton balked. The last thing he wanted was more exploitation of the English people, whether from Westminster or Rome. Yet, the tables were now turned against him, and his cause was still fruitless. Continuing the struggle to check the king would mean going against the full might of both church and state. Perhaps Innocent had been misinformed. Clinging to that hope, the archbishop urged the barons to continue their efforts to check the king's ambition by refusing to submit to his taxes, and pressuring him to renew the Charter of Liberties or face open rebellion. John remained unmoved, and so in June 1215 the barons gathered their might to march on London, whose gates were thrown open by a sympathetic populace. There, with support from both France and Scotland, they forced John to agree to approve a royal charter that recognized the rights of his noblemen and, for the first time, codified legal limits to the king's power. Langton hurriedly set to work articulating the barons' grievances.

Dutifully, and no doubt seethingly, the king and his entourage processed to the nearby meadow of Runnymede to sign this charter in the midday sun of June 15, 1215. What he was forced to affix his seal to cannot have pleased him.The charter that Langton and the barons produced went far beyond the provisions of the Charter of Liberties in its effort to restrain the Crown. A few examples will suffice: Section 12 of this "Great Charter" said that "No scutage or aid shall be imposed on the kingdom unless by common counsel...." This principle became a rallying cry that found its way into subsequent charters until it was enshrined in the English Bill of Rights and became a principle of our own Revolution: "no taxation without representation." Section 20 said that barons could only be judged by their peers, not by courts in the pocket of the king. Freemen, too, would be judged by the oaths of honest men in their own neighborhoods. If this principle of English liberty sounds familiar it's because the Sixth Amendment of our Constitution contains it: "In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right to a speedy and public trial, by an impartial jury of the State and district wherein the crime shall have been committed." The guarantee of a "speedy trial" was also found originally in Magna Charta: "To no one will we sell, to no one will we refuse or delay, right or justice." The document further guaranteed the rights of merchants, provided that all sheriffs and constables would be "competent" and first enumerated the idea of a constitutional government: "All fines made... against the law of the land...shall be entirely remitted." To enforce these concessions, a council of 25 barons was appointed to oversee the king, his laws and fines.

Shortly after signing Magna Charta, John proceeded to break nearly every rule in it with the full sanction of Innocent III (who also condemned the document). John's successors, too, were not particularly more faithful to its idealistic clauses. But this does not mean that Langton's work was forgotten. It gave the struggle against tyranny a profound legitimacy, and the idea of a limited monarch entered into political thought. To see just how much the document mattered to the nation, consider that over the next two hundred years, the English kings were forced to renew the document over 30 times. Finally, during the dictatorial reign of Charles I (1600-1649), what were by now considered centuries' old liberties were transferred into the English Bill of Rights, thus diffusing throughout the English-speaking world to, among other places, America, where the principles Langton had devoted his life to securing found their way into colonial charters, state constitutions, and the United States Constitution itself.

Thomas Jefferson and Leading By Example

A perilously high national debt, burdensome taxes, corruption, political favors, extreme partisanship, a powerful executive branch, and a bitterly divided government. Does any of this sound familiar? It may surprise you, then, that I’m describing the United States as it was in the afterglow of John Adams’ administration over two hundred years ago. It’s true that, in relative terms, taxes, debt and the size of the national government in 1800 were a vastly different affair from what they are today. But it was a more principled world, where infractions that we may think small were taken greater notice of and recognized as a threatening precedent for posterity.

Carried by the tumultuous winds of politics, it was the Virginia gentleman, philosopher and statesman Thomas Jefferson who was chosen to lead the young nation. He was to be a sort of shepherd to lead them away from the shadowy valleys of nationalism to the still waters of republicanism. Although dubious as usual about being away from Monticello, Jefferson ascended triumphantly -but without Adam's pomp and circumstance- into the swamp that was Washington D.C. (it was still under construction). After ten years of European-style experiments with national banks, standing armies, censorship of newspapers, excise taxes and piling on of debt, Americans were ready to see the Revolutionary goal of “a wise and frugal government” manifested. They got just that in the “Revolution of 1800.”

We are familiar today with incoming presidents talking up bipartisanship and then proceeding to stack their deck with friends, relatives and donors. Typically, they blame the other side of the aisle for every problem the country experiences. Jefferson set a different course. After declaring "We are all Republicans, we are all Federalists" in his First Inaugural Address, he answered Adams' last minute stuffing of the government with Federalists with stunning decency. By refusing to replace any except the most dogmatic among them with Republicans, the president diffused the cyclical feuding that had seized the nation for years. The next problem to fix was one of finance, and Jefferson began by selling  the stately coach, swords and elements of ceremony that Adams and Washington had favored. The president of the nation's first republic could often be seen braving the muddy streets of Washington on foot. The example he intended to set among his countrymen extended to his dress, which was very plain, a practice most shocking to foreign dignitaries. He made himself readily available to any and all. In fact, it was his rule to respond to every letter, and receive every guest who called on him during his presidency.

The federal government in 1800 was minuscule by today's standards, employing around 130 men. However, a number of these had been hired by the treasury under Hamilton's spendthrift secretaryship. Jefferson thought the positions an unnecessary waste of the peoples' money, so he eliminated them. In like manner, he scrapped more than half the navy (believing it encouraged foreign adventurism), reducing the government's expenditures by more than 25% even while abolishing the excise taxes that the previous administrations had devised. To Jefferson, a government with debt unnecessarily led its people down the road to servitude. A couple years of thriftiness later, his administration became the first to entirely pay off the national debt. Although some of Jefferson's later years would tarnish the brilliant beginning of his presidency, he left an example of how a president who leads by example, and is the first to take the sacrifices he asks others to accept, can heal a torn nation and give it a strength and solvency that has yet to be matched again.