Culture
Wars –excerpts from Who Built America textbook (2000)
732-735, 774-778
Reaganism was far more of a political than an economic success. If at
the end of the 1980s the Reagan administration itself stood at a policy
impasse, its eight years of governance had nevertheless shifted the nation's
politics well to the right. The Republican Party no longer had room for a
liberal, pro-welfare-state wing. The Democrats still controlled Congress,
though they had neither the votes nor the will to propose social or economic
legislation of the sort once championed by Lyndon Johnson and Hubert Humphrey.
Reagan Republicans set the nation's political agenda, even if they could not
always carry the day on any particular issue. If the culture of the university
and the old-line philanthropies remained largely liberal, conservative
intellectuals were a growing presence on the television talk shows, on
newspaper opinion pages, and in such influential, well-funded think tanks as
the Heritage Foundation and the Cato, Hudson, and American Enterprise
Institutes.
But Reaganite political power was not
matched by a conservative capacity to transform the nation's social mores or
restrain the increasingly adventuresome character of U.S. culture,
entertainment, and social thought. This was an enormous frustration to many
intellectuals and politicians of the Right, who saw Reaganism not merely as a
political or economic doctrine but also as a movement to reverse some of the
dramatic cultural changes that had transformed American society since the
1960s. William Bennett, Reagan's secretary of education, denounced
'relativism" and 'multiculturalism" in university curricula, arguing
instead for a return to the study and celebration of what he called the
"Judeo-Christian tradition." Likewise, Allan Bloom, a neoconservative
political theorist, briefly soared to prominence with publication of The
Closing of the American Mind a 1986 best-seller that assaulted student
activism, cultural relativism, academic Marxism, and rock-and-roll. Columnist
George Will warned that 'everything connected with culture, from literature
through science, depends upon a network of received authority."
But American culture never conformed to this Reaganite orthodoxy.
Evangelical Protestantism continued to grow in numbers, and in 1986 allies of
the conservative televangetist Pat Robertson won control of the Southern
Baptist Convention, the nation's largest religious denomination. But the
influence of the religious Right did not extend far beyond its own ranks.
Several states did impose some restrictions on the right of women to secure an
abortion, especially if they were teenagers or in the last trimester of
pregnancy, but this medical practice remained legal and widely available in the
United States. Women continued to increase their numbers within the workforce,
and at the end of the 1980s affirmative action programs still benefited those
racial minorities who sought employment, job promotions, or admission to
college. Meanwhile, several well-known fundamentalist ministers, including
Jimmy Swaggart and Jim Bakker, became embroiled in embarrassing sex and
financial scandals. Enthusiasm for their TV programs waned after 1987,
prompting Jerry Falwell to disband his Moral Majority. In 1988, when Pat Robertson
ran for the GOP presidential nomination, its ads campaign was a flop.
On network television, the celebration of
wealth and ruthless entrepreneurship that had helped define the Reagan era,
such as Dallas and Falcon Crest, were canceled in the late 1980s. They
were replaced by successful situation comedies such as Roseanne, Married .
. . with Children, and The Simpsons, which revolved around the
many frustrations and occasional joys of hard-pressed working families.
On the music scene country still held the greatest radio audience,
but rock-and-roll, which dominated record sales, continued to showcase the
nation's cultural avant-garde. The two biggest pop stars of the 1980s, Michael Jackson and
Madonna, were not only fabulously successful entertainers but also racial and
gender experimentalists.
Jackson, whose 1982 album Thriller sold more copies than any other record in
history, transformed himself into a racially and sexually ambiguous icon.
Likewise, Madonna, an indefatigable exhibitionist, redefined a modern earthy
feminism …. The portable boom-box made listening both more all-pervasive
and more private. Musictelevision (MTV), a genuinely new art form, burst onto
the scene in 1981. Rap, or hip-hop, emerged from the African-American ghetto
early in the 1980s. Combining rhythmic verse with a driving beat derived from
scratching the surface of a record and sampling the music of other
rhythm-and-blues and rock-and-roll performers, rap spoke to the daily
experiences of black inner-city youth facing gang violence, the crack epidemic,
police brutality, and economic strain. By the end of the decade, many Chicanos,
who introduced bilingual lyrics, and white suburban teenagers had
enthusiastically embraced the music, the accompanying hip-hop style in fashion,
and rap's outlaw image. Rap stimulated the resurgence of a black nationalist
sensibility. Groups such as Public Enemy, whose Fight the Power was an
openly Afrocentric anthem, and KRS-One, who preached a more inclusive
'edutainment' message, moved the music onto political terrain, as did the
controversial recordings of 2 Live Crew and N.WA. ('Niggahs With
Attitude"). So did Spike Lee's hip-hop- inspired 1989 film Do the Right
Thing, which depicted the escalating, sometimes violent racial tensions that
still divided America's multi-ethnic cities…….
The 1990s were a decade of high-profile
investigations, hearings, and trials in which the new politics of race, gender,
and American identity were played out before a media-savvy audience of
millions. The courtroom and the hearing room now served as a site of furious
contention. These televised spectacles
were not, in fact, well suited to
resolving the nation's deep-seated cultural and social divisions. But a
fascinated citizenry focused its gaze on these events because no new election
and no new statute could fully represent the complicated and contradictory
values Americans brought to their understanding of race, sex, and nationhood.
President Bush's decision to
nominate Clarence Thomas to fill the vacant Supreme Court seat of civil rights
pioneer Thurgood Marshall in 1991 would have been controversial in any event.
Thomas had been born in poverty, but the Yale-educated black conservative had criticized
civil rights leaders and had helped undermine affirmative action litigation as
chairman of the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC) during the early
years of the Reagan administration. Republicans therefore backed Thomas, while
leaders of the civil rights community, who wanted to keep an African-American
on the Court, were split.
Thomas's confirmation battle before
the Senate Judiciary Committee became red hot in October 1991 after Anita Hill,
a black law professor who had been an aide to Thomas at the EEOC, testified
that the nominee had frequently made lurid remarks to her and repeatedly
pressured her for dates. Feminists and liberals hostile to the Thomas
nomination immediately championed Hill's charges. The nominee charged that his
accusers were turning the confirmation proceedings into a "high-tech
lynching.' The nation watched in
stunned amazement as a panel of white male senators subjected Hill's motives
and veracity to fierce personal attack.
The Senate confirmed Thomas by a vote of fifty-two to forty-eight, but
the battle cast a long shadow. First, post-1960s black conservatism no long
seemed an oxymoron; among African-American writers and intellectuals, Thomas
symbolized the emergence of an articulate, conservative black minority who
challenged civil rights liberalism. Second, the Thomas-Hill confrontation before an all-male
committee put the issue of sexual harassment and its meaning at the forefront
of public debate. In 1992 the EEOC recorded a 50-percent jump in official
complaints on the issue; that same year, female candidates ran for Senate and
House seats in record numbers.
Television played a key role in two
additional racial spectacles of the early 1990s. On the evening of March 3,
1991, a black motorist, Rodney King, became a symbol of white racism and police
brutality when a nearby resident captured on videotape the beating he suffered
at the hands of four Los Angeles policemen. Millions saw King, who was lying on
the ground, take fifty-odd blows from club, foot, and flashlight. Sympathy for
King turned to violent outrage in April 1992 when a white suburban jury
acquitted his police assailants. Black and Latino rioters burned hundreds of
houses and stores in the South Central section of Los Angeles, particularly
those occupied by Korean immigrant shopkeepers. The police and National Guard were called in,
and fifty-three people were killed and thousands injured. Property damage
amounted to a billion dollars, making the riot the most costly in U.S. history.
The King beating and the riot heightened the wall of mutual distrust that had
long existed between blacks and Los Angeles police. This tension became a key
issue two years later, when police arrested the former football star and sports
commentator O.J. Simpson after the
stabbing murder of his ex- wife Nicole and her friend Ronald Goldman, both of
whom were white. Simpson, who was light- skinned, rich, and articulate, had
earned the confidence of corporate advertisers and become famous as aTV
personality and pitchman. His trial, which saturated the airwaves and dominated
everyday conversation for nine months in 1995, proved an international media
extravaganza. Ca- ble News Network (CNN) offered 631 hours of direct televised
coverage, which increased its ratings and revenues by close to 50 percent.
Simpson's expensive, high-powered defense team exploited the racial dimensions
of the Los Angeles trial. They charged the detectives who investigated the
murder with racism and portrayed their client as the victim of a biased system
of justice. Although much evidence indicated that Simpson had been an abusive
and violent husband, opinion was racially polarized by the trial. Sixty percent
of all African Americans thought Simpson innocent, while 75 percent of whites
believed him guilty. In October 1995 a jury of ten women and two men -nine
blacks, two whites, and one Hispanic-took less than four hours to acquit him of
all criminal charges. Although a lawsuit by families of the two murder victims
eventually forced Simpson to pay millions in civil damages, his acquittal in
1995 demonstrated how pervasive were the racial constructions that framed a
divergent social and legal reality for Americans, white and black.
The success of the 1996 Million-Man
March' seemed to confirm the continuing centrality of race--as opposed to
class, or politics, or gender--as a defining identity for huge numbers of
African Americans. Answering the call of the Black Muslim leader Louis
Farrakhan, hundreds of thousands of African-American men assembled peacefully,
on the Washington Mall to affirm their solidarity and dignity. Leaders of the
march, the largest convocation of African Americans since the 1963 March on
Washington headed by Dr. Martin Luther King, made no demands on the government but
implored black men to reclaim the moral and economic leadership of the black
community and black family. Indeed, the self-affirming, religious quality of
the gathering paralleled that of the predominantly white male Promise Keepers,
an evangelical Protestant movement that filled scores of football stadiums to
preach the return of male authority and responsibility within the Christian
family.