We are all trying to recalibrate our praise and blame of Americans once revered as “great.” Yale University is rightly conflicted over John C. Calhoun, and the state of Maryland is rightly conflicted over Roger B. Taney.
Given the major role these two men played in hardening pro-slavery sentiment and hastening the Civil War, I sympathize with indignant protesters bent on toppling their statues and renaming their institutions.
At the same time, there is danger that the contemporary obsession with moral purity will bowdlerize history. If our aim is a genuinely richer understanding of the past rather than self-congratulation, perhaps a more promising path would be to bring to the fore Americans who have been insufficiently appreciated.
The great American I propose for reconsideration is Booker T. Washington, a man who dealt wisely with the wrenching after-effects of slavery and war, and prescribed political solutions to bring about racial comity.
In my recent essay, “Booker T. Washington and the Promise of Racial Reconciliation,” in the Makers of American Political Thought series, I make the case that Washington deserves a place in the pantheon of American heroes.
Washington (1856-1915) came on the political scene during the 1880s, a grim epoch for blacks in America. Even though slavery had been abolished, segregation become harsher, more widespread, and increasingly codified in both law and custom.
As a result of Plessy v. Ferguson in 1896, racist “Jim Crow” laws, encompassing everything from education to employment to public accommodations, acquired constitutional status under the mantra of “separate but equal.”
What is more, despite the 15th Amendment, complete disfranchisement of the black population occurred as a result of the Democratic Party having solidified a political monopoly in the South. With no black vote in play and no party competition, white politicians strove to outdo one another in demagogic appeals to racial hostility, with the consequence that blacks became the target of lynchings and other terroristic practices.
To make matters worse, the North (rapidly expanding with new immigrants and industries) expressed scant concern for the southern situation, having come to regard the South as commercially inconsequential. In response to these seemingly hopeless circumstances, the resourceful and ambitious Washington had to devise both a plan of action and a mode of rhetoric capable of moving audiences separated geographically and racially.
Washington’s strategy blended prudential rhetoric with an intense focus on the most urgent matters of educational and economic advancement. In his speeches, he insisted that political and economic flourishing awaited whites and blacks if they could come together in a shared “industrial, commercial, civil, and religious life.” He promoted a spirit of uplift among former slaves, showing them how the bitterness of slavery could be overcome and transmuted into friendship between the races.
Working to further tangible equality between the races, Washington founded the Tuskegee Normal School for Colored Teachers (now Tuskegee University), which aimed to educate the “hand, head, and heart.” The Tuskegee model of “industrial education” was widely influential. Washington’s strategy of educating with a view to citizenship proved effective in the long run: whereas in 1865, illiteracy was nearly universal among blacks; by 1900, a majority of blacks—55 percent—were literate. And by 1940, nearly 90 percent were literate, thus preparing the ground for the civil rights revolution.
Ever active behind the scenes, Washington funded legal challenges to discrimination and disfranchisement of blacks. He made extensive use of the public relations power of newspapers, sometimes writing letters to the editor himself or arranging for various pro-black campaigns in the press. And he worked closely with President Theodore Roosevelt, dispensing the political patronage of the Republican Party.
In his own lifetime, Washington’s remarkable statesmanship was a source of inspiration for blacks, and furthered the difficult work of racial reconciliation. Later generations, having grown accustomed to a more militant style of black leadership, have unfortunately found it increasingly difficult to discern Washington’s greatness.
It is long past time for the record to be corrected. The day may yet come when Booker T. Washington will be remembered not only for his remarkable personal accomplishments (which no one can gainsay) but for his redemptive moral vision and subtle statesmanship.
