From Richard Iton,  Solidarity Blues: Race, Culture and the American Left (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2000)  81-93

From Chapter 3, “Southern Politics and the Unmaking of the American Left”

 

Hold that engine, let sweet mama get on board, cause my home ain't here, it's a long way down the road;   ... Come back, choo-choo, mama’s gonna find a berth, goin' to Dixieland, it's the grandest place on earth; ... Dixie Flyer, come on and let your drivers roll, wouldn't stay up North to save nobody's doggone soul;    ... Here's my ticket, take it, please, conductorman, goin’ to my mammy way down in Dixieland. - Bessie Smith, "Dixie Flyer Blues"

 

The South may not be the nation's number one political problem   ... but politics is the South's number one problem.  -V. 0. Key Jr., Southern Politics in State and Nation

 

….sustaining leftist movements involves a difficult and delicate balancing act. The traditional left/ Marxist project has historically been an economically oriented affair, focused on using the modern state as a means of transforming and transcending class differences. Beyond contesting the attractiveness of the market's appeals to individual consumers, it is now clear that the left must be as concerned with cultural issues (e.g., religious and moral attachments, different ethnic experiences) as it has been with the bread-and-butter issues associated with life in the material realm. The events of the last seventy years have provided sufficient evidence that the attempt to mobilize peoples to address their economic alienation while ignoring or even encouraging their cultural alienation (as it can be argued many orthodox Marxists have) is ultimately bound to produce tension and a dissipation of support.

     This problem was evident in Europe between the world wars, when the left found itself under attack from constituencies that felt alienated by the cultural aspects of Marxism (and liberalism for that matter), a disaffection that was often energized by anti-Semitism. It was in this context that leftist ideals were easily absorbed and co-opted by movements of the so-called right, especially as many early-twentieth-century Marxist movements had struck Faustian deals with the state and nationalist ideologies. Accordingly, Italy's left gave birth to Benito Mussolini and the Fascist Party; the founder of the British Union of Fascists, Oswald Mosley, was a former Labourite, and France's Georges Sorel, with his characteristic attachments to the nation as primary subject and to violence as a necessary means to change, made the leap from orthodox Marxism to voluntarism and anti- Semitism. In a similar manner, German-born Roberto Michels, Belgian Hendrik DeMan, and France's Marcel Deat moved from the socialist camp toward the right. It was also against this backdrop that Adolf Hitler nationalized socialism in Germany.

      Although clear distinctions existed between the left and the "far right" in this era, particularly regarding the significance of cultural traditions, their economic orientations were similar. An emphasis on the nation (volk) provided a foundation for most of the various leftist movements after the First World War and the different corporatist experiments (which, at their extreme, include Mussolini's Italy, France's Vichy administration, and Hitler's Germany). These movements were not supporters of unrestricted property rights, and along with their counterparts on the conventional left, they sought to resist the institutionalization of free-market capitalism and liberal individualism. In Canada during the same period, the uncertainties unleashed by the depression produced the corporatist (and occasionally anti-Semitic) Social Credit Party and the socialist Co- operative Commonwealth Federation (CCF), the predecessor of the contemporary New Democratic Party. Both movements emerged in opposition to liberalism and the free market and were suffused with Christian ideals. While potential leftist constituencies were splitting in the Canadian West- where both Social Credit and the CCF were rooted -the overall strength of the national left was reduced by the inability of Protestant anglophone socialists to make their movements attractive to francophone voters in the largely Catholic province of Quebec. The weakness of the left in Canada was also connected to the CCF’s clear preference for a strong federal government, whereas Quebecers had traditionally been wary of a strong central state (Quebec itself presents an interesting example of the ongoing nationalization of potentially socialist support and the conflation of class and nationalist interests). Overall, the conventional left has been hampered in its competition with individualism and the free market by the tendency of its natural constituencies to divide over the significance and treatment of cultural issues (and the perception that there is a necessary conflict between cultural tradition and modernity), as well as the problems involved in making a singular political community out of di- verse ethnic groups. Over the last three decades, this last issue has become serious in Europe and Canada, as concern over (non-European) immigration has again depressed support for the left and energized parties such as the National Front in France (where the anti-immigration issue was first put into play by the Communist Party), Belgium's Vlaams Blok, Austria's Freedom Party, the German Republican Party, the Italian Social Movement, and, to some extent, Canada's Reform Party. Thus the left, clearly weakened and on the defensive, faces the twenty-first century aware that it cannot phrase its goals in purely materialistic terms. Nevertheless, in Western Europe and in Canada, it can point to certain achievements in the area of public policy, and at the least, the conventional left may not be thriving, but it still survives.

      ….The weakness of leftist organizations in the United States can be understood, to a large extent, as a reflection and result of the nation's ongoing decisions to prioritize racial and ethnic identities and difference. Racial conflicts and factors have affected or been reflected in leftist outcomes in the United States in three ways. First has been the consistent division of leftist activists over the issue of whether organizations should be interracial, segregated, or separate but coordinated. ..;.The second means by which the race issue has prevented the left from remaking society in a collectivist mold is through the popular rejection of those movements which have pursued interracial alliances (and the related tendency to associate interracialism with "communism’)….Beyond divisive tensions within the left, extramural pressures and attacks have held back movements that have sought to organize across races. This stigmatization has extended, at times, to all leftist movements regardless of their orientation on racial issues (i.e., leftism itself has been seen as an implicit threat to the racial status quo and accordingly rejected). Third, for some leftists the race issue has just been a problem to be solved at some future date or a matter of numbers - of accepting or neglecting 10 percent of the population (e.g., AFL’s  belief that trying to force its affiliates to drop their color bars would lead to an overall weakening rather than strengthening of the union movement). While nonwhite peoples constitute a numerical minority within the context of United States, they have been distributed in such a way that their numbers had a crucial impact on American politics. Given the various psychocultural understandings and misunderstandings that have governed the relationship among races in the United States, the symbolic role of nonwhites-especially African Americans-in American politics also should not be underestimated. Furthermore, nonwhites have been concentrated in those socioeconomic classes that one would naturally expect to support leftist activity. Finally, the South has played a key role in weakening leftist efforts. Consequently, the decisions by labor unions and other related institutions to dismiss the importance of challenging the racial mores that underpin southern conservative power have had significant implications. This is not to suggest that the outcomes would have been any rent if, somehow, American leftists had paid more attention to the issue of race. They did not, and that choice reflected the extent to which leftists did not consider the ramifications of not challenging the racial status quo and the degree which race and the South, as presences in American life, had become natural- and unremarkable commonplaces.

    These three factors -- the division of the left on race, the popular pressures to reproduce or reinforce society's racial codes, and the tendency of the left to overlook racial and cultural factors -- help explain the weakness of the conventional n the United States. . . .[I]n this chapter I focus on the political parties that have been identified with the left in the United States -the Populists, the Socialists, and the Communists -and their attempts to reconcile the issues of race and class.

 

Sectionalism and the Roots of Southern Politics

The primary dividing line in American politics for much of the nation’s history has been that which separates the North and the South. While it is common to speak of the resilience of the two-party system in American politics, the reality has more resembled a series of regional one-party systems (e.g., the Democratic Solid South) with the main axis running from east to west. From the Compromise Of 1877 that marked the end of Reconstruction to the civil rights era, there was very little true competition between the Democrats and the Republicans.

     This sectionalism was based on the disparity between those states and regions dependent on slave labor and those dependent on free labor and was directly related to the distribution of Africans in America? One of the first movements to experience the difficulties associated with sectionalism was the American or Know-Nothing Party. Nativism and its publications (such as the various Native American newspapers) drew support in both the North and the South, especially in those cities and states where immigrant populations were relatively high, such as New York, Cincinnati, Philadelphia, and St. Louis and Kentucky, Virginia, Louisiana, Maryland, and Texas.' The nativists saw these new immigrants, primarily Irish and German, as paupers, criminals, and radicals, threatening to overload or overturn the already-established American way. Although nativist sentiment and violence had been a constant presence since the beginning of the century, the Know-Nothing Party was not formed until 1854 (incidentally the same year the Republican Party was established). Given the timing of its emergence and the general rush toward fragmentation that had been fed by Andrew Jackson’s unique combination of personality and pork-barrel politics, it is not altogether surprising that the Know-Nothing Party was fractured by the same tensions that were soon to rupture the Union itself. At a time when sectional issues were predominant, few voters in the North or the South felt they could afford to support a party that was not committed in terms of its regional affiliations. Of course, the narrowness of the Know-Nothing platform - essentially the reduction or elimination of immigration -also restricted its potential popularity.

       The Civil War, its establishment of the Republican Party as the dominant national party, and Reconstruction and Redemption in the South led to a slightly adjusted status quo in American national politics. The 1877 compromise gave Rutherford B. Hayes and the Republicans the electoral college votes necessary to maintain the presidency and left the fate of Africans in the South to be decided by local custom. As mentioned in the previous chapter, the deal is also significant in that it effectively marginalized labor and its interests. As the Republican coalition abandoned blacks, the remade Democratic Party was dominated by southern conservatives who had little interest in the concerns of the party's northern and western working-class constituencies. After the end of Reconstruction, then, the country was left with what was to become the foundation of "Southern Politics." In the North, the Republicans were firmly established as the representatives of industry, whereas most labor and immigrant interests and votes remained within the Democratic camp. In the South, the Republican Party was gradually reduced to the party of southern blacks after the "scalawags" (poor southern whites), "carpetbaggers" (transplanted northern whites), and those whites seeking elected office were gradually drawn away. As the party lost its voting constituency with the institutionalization of Jim Crow, it became an alienated body that focused on the election of national officers at the party's conventions.

     Following the end of Reconstruction and the rehabilitation of the Democratic Party, partisan competition virtually disappeared in the South. Given its distribution of land and power, one would have expected the South to produce politicians and movements that questioned the economic status quo. V. 0. Key Jr. argued in Southern Politics  that "the South ought, by all the rules of political behavior, to be radical. A poor, agrarian area, pressed down by the colonial policies of the financial and industrial North and Northeast, it offers fertile ground for political agitation." But radical politics rarely took root. Instead, southern politics has characteristically sacrificed class politics to racial politics. While there have always been grounds for class conflict, these tensions have never managed to overcome the impact of race and the politics of black and white. As Key noted, "In its grand outlines the politics of the South revolves around the position of the Negro. It is at times interpreted as a politics of cotton, as a politics of free trade, as a politics of agrarian poverty, or as a politics of planter and plutocrat. Although such interpretations have a superficial validity, in the last analysis the major peculiarities of southern politics go back to the Negro. Whatever phase of the southern political process one seeks to understand, sooner or later the trail of inquiry leads to the Negro."

     The mechanics of the process by which southern politics shaped national politics until the civil rights era was rather simple. The South was usually divided into two camps, one populated by whites, usually small or tenant farmers and their descendants (the hill counties), and a second populated by blacks, wealthier whites, and their descendants (the delta). Under "normal" circumstances the voting power of each individual would be roughly equal, but after Reconstruction and certainly by the turn of the century, the elimination of the black vote through violence, trickery, and various legal manipulations gave those whites in "black-belt" counties disproportionate influence. The elite manipulation of electoral boundaries further increased the disproportionate voting influence of the whites in the black-belt counties. Simple and effective appeals to white solidarity and supremacy helped prevent remaining poorer whites from pursuing their class interests. In other words, once black voters were removed from the electorate, a small number of relatively wealthy and increasingly business-oriented whites could control state politics. The actions of this class across the South could then present a united front - in the shape of the Solid South - to the nation and hold up any legislation or proposals that might threaten the interests of the southern upper class, especially because southern incumbents were rarely challenged and seniority, pre-Watergate, meant guaranteed access to the exercise of power in Congress This arrangement (which I discuss in more detail in Chapter 4) lasted well into the 1960s.

       National movements seeking to challenge this political status quo have either been solidly rejected in the South, have seen their programs compromised to comply with southern mores, or have accepted truncation (i.e., written off the South), mistakenly believing that national politics could be significantly reoriented without challenging southern cultural relations and understandings. But the key to the Solid South was the relative willingness of economically disadvantaged whites to trade economic and political gains for racial solidarity. Thus non-status quo politics have had to be attractive enough to challenge the racial attachments of these individuals. The story of the first significant post-Civil War movement to test those ties is ultimately one of failure.

 

Some People's Parties

After Reconstruction, pressure on whites to preserve southern unity resulted in the gradual elimination of all but the Democratic Party. As one individual moving from the Republicans to the Democrats in this period explained, "No white man can live in the South in the future and act with any other than the Democratic party unless he is willing and prepared to live a life of social isolation and remain in political oblivion." Many whites did not have the luxury of philosophizing about the reasons for their actions, which were a response to the threat of violence on top of "social isolation and ... political oblivion."'

       Throughout the early years of Reconstruction and until the 1890s, a series of movements sought to shake the prevailing political alignments in the South with little or no success. Among these, the Granger movement, the Greenbackers, and the National Labor Union all failed to make any significant impact on the status quo. The first movement to have some success was the National Farmers' Alliance and Industrial Union (or Southern Farmers' Alliance), founded in Texas in 1877. There were actually two separate Farmers' Alliances: the larger and more aggressive Southern Alliance and, north of the Ohio River, the more moderate Northern Farmers' Alliance. The Farmers' Alliance reportedly had 3 million members at one point, but it is more significant as a precursor of the People's Party, or Populists. Although the southern wing was more radical in its pursuit of banking, monetary, and railroad reform, it rejected attempts by its northern counterpart to draw it into third-party politics because it was content with the Democrats and believed it could achieve its goals inside the larger party without challenging white supremacy.  Accordingly, the Southern Alliance refused to organize and involve blacks directly, although blacks and whites alike were faced with the same fiscal constraints and economic circumstances and even though blacks represented roughly half the individuals involved in agriculture in the South. Alliance members actually went so far as to harass and threaten Knights of Labor organizers looking to include black farmers in their movement. Eventually, the Colored Farmers' National Alliance and Cooperative Union was formed in December 1886. Like the Southern Alliance, the Colored Alliance had its roots in Texas and was overseen by a white missionary and former Confederate soldier named R. M. Humphrey. While some of the state Colored Alliances had white leaders (e.g., Texas, Alabama, and Kentucky), in other states the head organizers were blacks (e.g., Georgia, Mississippi, and Louisiana). By 1891 Humphrey was claiming 1.2 million members, a number thought to be grossly overinflated." The numbers involved are nonetheless remarkable, because the Colored Alliance had to withstand the threats of violence by Democratic forces, on the one hand, and the arguments of black Republicans, on the other, who contended that the Farmers' Alliance was too risky a venture to consider dividing black energies. Consequently, black participation in the alliance had to be covert, resulting in a dearth of records of its activities and ambitions.

       Overall, few white members saw the contradiction between the Southern Alliance's goals and its continued refusal to question seriously American racial etiquette. Ironically, in a Farmer's Alliance publication it was solemnly stated that 'the materialism of to-day does a)] the time seggregate [sic] human lives.... The tendency of the competitive system is to antagonize and disassociate men." These same conflicts and contradictions were to mark the Populist movement.  The year 1892 represented the high tide of independent Populist politics. Standing on the shoulders of the Farmers' Alliance movements, the People's  Party, which had been officially launched the year before in Cincinnati, drew support away from the Democrats in the South and the Republicans in the North. The voting returns that year resulted in Populist administrations in Kansas, North Dakota, and Colorado and elected at least eight members to the House of Representatives. The leader of the party's ticket, former Greenbacker James B. Weaver, attracted over a million voters, making the Populists the first third party since the Civil War to gain electoral college votes."

       The rise of the Populists certainly did not signify the emergence of traditional Marxist politics in the American context. Populist philosophy was never as rigorous or as pointed in its analysis of the development of American capitalism. Nevertheless, some similarities exist between the two critiques in that they both emphasized the alienating effects of industrialization, as well as the tendency of modern capitalism to concentrate power in the hands of the few. On the whole, no one could mistake the attack by the People's Party on the banking, railroad, and monetary systems as Marxist in the European sense or even in the American sense, but Populism -like its Canadian counterpart that was to lay the foundation for the Cooperative Commonwealth Federation and subsequently the New Democratic Party -did represent a preleftist formation of sorts. The party's 1892 platform called for free silver at a ratio of sixteen to one, a graduated income tax, government ownership of the railroads, the direct election of the Senate, and an end to banks of issue.”  As one North Carolinian Populist contended, "Both the cannibal and the grinding employer are living on human flesh, the ignorant one devouring it outright and the intelligent one wearing it out for his benefit."' The Populists also adopted women's suffrage as an issue, and Barton C. Shaw suggests that "Populism seems to have softened some men's ideas about women. If a man's wife worked in the fields alongside her husband, it was difficult to argue that she was too delicate for politics."  This greater sensitivity could also be politically risky given the common linkages between gender, race, and class. One southern paper described "the sight of a woman travelling around the country making political speeches ... [as) simply disgusting" and warned that "Southern manhood revolts at the idea of degrading womanhood to the level of politics."

      On the issue of race, Populist attitudes predictably varied according to region. While the northern and border state Populists were generally in favor of including blacks - there were fewer blacks in their states - black political participation was an explosive subject in the states with larger black constituencies and where the Democratic Party and its supporters equated voting the ticket with maintaining the race. Dismissing the economic issues in the Populist platform, the Richmond Dispatch made clear the need for whites to support the Democrats, stating "the present Democratic party in Virginia was formed ... for self-protection  against sectional misrule -and without any reference to economic questions."" Similarly, the Atlanta Constitution offered this analysis: "The old issue of sectionalism is confronting the South and White Supremacy is more important than all the financial reform in the world." Claiming to speak for southern farmers, the Raleigh News and Observer argued that the appeals of the Populists would prove fruitless in the South: "Are the honest, manly White Southern farmers ready to receive their lessons in political science from such sources? Can they acknowledge as their leader a foreign-born fanatic like [William Alfred] Peffer [a Populist senator from Kansas], or any Southern White man who hears his degrading race principles and still associates with him? We answer no. The farmers of the South will not follow such men. The chivalry of Anglo-Saxon manhood, reverence for the virtue of Southern women, and respect for ancestral and race pride, all condemn and repudiate such self-confessed demagogues."" The Greensboro Daily Record chimed in on August 19, 1892: "The Democratic Party of the South is something more than a mere political organization striving to enforce an administrative policy. It is a white man's party, organized to maintain white supremacy and prevent a repetition of the destructive rule of ignorant negroes and unscrupulous whites.... The safety of the South ... as well as the conservation of free institutions on these shores, depend upon the strength, unity and perpetuity of the Democratic Party." " It was not merely with words that Democratic unity and white supremacy were maintained. While the nineteenth-century western frontier is often taken as the epitome of American lawlessness, it surely is rivaled if not surpassed by the unrestrained violence that marked southern politics and life in this period. Violence was used to terrorize blacks and dissuade them from voting, as well as to keep whites within the Democratic Party."

         For southern Populists the situation was clear. Anticipating V. 0. Key's analysis of the essence of southern politics, in August 1892  Georgian Populist leader Tom Watson editorialized in the People's Party Paper.- "The argument against the independent political movement in the South may be boiled down into one word – NIGGER! Fatal word! Why, for thirty years before our war, did the North and South hate each other? NIGGER. What brought disunion and war?  NIGGER. With what did Abraham Lincoln break the backbone of the Confederacy? NIGGER. What impeded Reconstruction? NIGGER. How did the Republicans rule the South for years after Appomattox? NIGGER. What has kept the South in a  cast iron straight jacket? NIGGER. What will be the slogan of our old politicians until Gabriel calls them home? NIGGER. Pious Southern people never dreaded death as much as they do now. They fear that when they knock at the pearly gates of the New Jerusalem St. Peter will peep through the key-hole and say: 'You can't

come in.’Why?’ ‘NIGGER!"'  The Populists, then, were quite aware that to question the political status quo, to test the power of the white upper class, was to encounter directly the issues of race and white supremacy. Referring to those white Southerners who joined the Populist cause, John Hicks suggests that  perhaps only a Southerner can realize how keenly these converts ... must have felt their grievances.""' Indeed, evidence shows that white southern Populists were, at times, as race obsessed as their fellow countrymen. In a July 4 speech, Tom Watson made it clear that he did not seek to undermine white supremacy: "I yield to no man in my pride of race. I believe the Anglo-Saxon is stronger, in the glorious strength of conception and achievement, than any race of created men.... Socially, I want no mixing of the races."  ' In the same speech he went on to question the faith of those whites who believed that blacks could threaten white supremacy: "I despise the Anglo-Saxon who is such an infernal coward as to deny legal rights to any man on account of his color for fear of 'Negro domination.' 'Dominate' what? 'Dominate' how? 'Dominate who? It takes intellect to dominate; haven't we got it? It takes majorities to dominate; haven't we got them? It takes wealth to dominate; haven't we got it? It takes social, financial, legislative, military, naval, ecclesiastical and educational establishments to dominate; haven't we got them?""' Yet in 1896 the Georgian Populist platform did take a stand against lynching at a time when the state was leading the nation in terms of victims of vigilante "justice"; Watson, who saw the party as "offering to white and black a rallying point which is free from the odium of former discords and strifes," in one instance personally offered refuge to a black Populist who had been threatened with lynching.

        From the black viewpoint, while the franchise was gradually being taken away by means of fraud, violence, and, starting in Mississippi in 1890 law, the logic of supporting the Populists against the Democrats collided with the lingering appeal of Republicanism and the hope that soon Redemption might be reversed. Blacks in this period had trouble distinguishing white Populists from other whites. They could not easily forget the violent nature of their past interactions with the poorer whites who supported the Populist cause and were not reassured of the party's good intentions given its rejection of federal supervision of the voting process. The testimony of William Oxford, a white Populist, at an 1896 congressional committee hearing helps explain this distrust: "Q. Who whipped Calvin joiner [a black Democrat]? A. I did. Q. Did you ever whip any Negro before you did Calvin? A. Yes, sir, I have whipped a heap of them. I whipped them before I be- came a Populist and since too."211 in some areas, though, the Republicans and Populists coordinated their efforts successfully (North Carolina being the preeminent example). The downside of these alliances was that Democrats could then paint the Populists as threats to local customs and puppets of the northern carpet-baggers. While the nomination of William Jennings Bryan to head the Democratic ticket in 1896 is often seen as the high tide of Populist influence on national politics, by that point Populism had been reduced to little more than silverism (that is, monetary reform that would involve moving from the gold standard to silver)." Fusionism - the movement to bring together the Democratic Party and the Populists - symbolized the deradicalization of the People's Party potential and its pursuit of electability over program. By this time, the South was well on its way to institutionalizing Jim Crow: South Carolina followed Mississippi's example in 1895, Louisiana introduced the grandfather clause three years later, and by 1901, Alabama and North Carolina had contrived legal means of restricting the black vote. Indeed the Populist experiment seems to have had two consequences in the South: it accelerated the drive to find permanent means of excluding blacks from formal politics, and it forced the Democratic Party to become more responsive to disgruntled whites." In somewhat the same manner that pro-union legislation was to freeze blacks out of the skilled ranks and benefit white workers, the replacement of the convention system with the "progressive' open primary system was of little benefit to disenfranchised southern blacks, but it did increase the access of lower-class whites to the political system to some extent. Nevertheless, the benefits poorer whites gained were constrained and compromised by their adherence to and continued promotion of white supremacist politics. As Key writes, the primaries did not go a long way toward lessening the objective material and political "cleavage between the planters of the Delta and the rednecks of the hill."" During the first decade after the election of 1896, the populist agenda was transformed into a white progressivism and ultimately no progressivism at all. It was the politics of race, as practiced by the likes of future anti-New Dealer Carter Glass in Virginia, that were to represent the Populist legacy in the South despite the primary innovation. Watson came to believe that Populism's success in the South depended on the elimination of blacks from the region's political life and lent hi support to the negrophobic politics of such individuals as Georgia's Hoke Smith.

      Why did Populism fail? In Revolt of the Rednecks, Albert Kirwan offers a number of reasons: "mismanagement, lack of enlightened leadership, the comparative conservatism of its program, returning prosperity, and the national split resulting from the nomination of Bryan." But he concludes that "most important was probably the race question."" John Hicks argues that the "unexpected and disastrous defeats in Alabama and Georgia and the generally poor showing of populism in the South can be fully understood only by taking into consideration what happened to the negro vote." Given the unwillingness of southern whites to risk negro domination" by abandoning the Democratic Party -an attachment that prompted one black Texan Populist to remark that "the South loves the Democratic Party more than it does God" - the ability of the People's Party to challenge the national status quo successfully was seriously reduced. As former Populists returned to the Republican Party in the North and the Democratic Party in the South, it was not clear that much had changed."