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Was dit polities/sosiaal aanvaarbaar in die KKK in die vroeë 1900's in die Amerikaanse suide?

Was dit polities/sosiaal aanvaarbaar in die KKK in die vroeë 1900's in die Amerikaanse suide?

Hierdie vraag is geïnspireer deur die film O broer, waar is u, afspeel in Mississippi in 1937. Hoewel die gebeure duidelik fiktief is, put die film baie historiese inspirasie uit werklike prople en plekke.

Die hoogtepunt van die film behels dat 'n kandidaat vir die goewerneur van Mississippi in die openbaar sy lidmaatskap van die Klu Klux Klan bekend maak. (Hy noem nie die groep nie, maar noem dit ''n sekere geheime genootskap' wat 'heilige kruisverbrandings' uitvoer). Daarna veroordeel hy die hoofrolspelers van die film-'n gewilde sanggroep-as misdadige ontsnapte misdadigers en eis dat hulle gearresteer word.

Sy toespraak het uiteindelik tot gevolg dat die skare teen hom draai en hom die stad uitjaag. Maar dit is nie duidelik of sy gewildheid deur sy rassistiese opvattings vernietig is nie, of bloot omdat hy die groep verhinder het om te speel. Ek sou gedink het dat dit in die dertigerjare nog relatief veilig sou gewees het vir 'n blanke suidelike politikus om hom met die KKK verbind te kry, alhoewel ek glo dat hulle al aan die afneem was.

Sou so 'n verbintenis wat bekend gemaak word, die politieke loopbaan en/of sosiale status van 'n suidelike politikus verwoes het?


Soms was dit, maar nie in die tydperk wat die film uitbeeld nie.

U moet daarop let dat daar drie organisasies onder hierdie naam in verskillende historiese tydperke was. Alhoewel hulle dieselfde was in hul doelwitte, was hulle steeds heel anders. In die tydperk waarin die film uitgebeeld word, was die KKK van die twintigerjare hoofsaaklik 'n politieke organisasie wat wit Protestante verenig het teen alles wat hulle as bedreigend beskou vir hul morele norme. Die KKK in hierdie tydperk was nie net anti-desegregasie nie, maar ook anti-immigrant en anti-Katoliek. Die meeste lede was nie gewelddadige ekstremiste nie, maar eerder ultrakonserwatiewes wat bang was vir veranderinge in die samelewing.

Heelwat Amerikaanse politici het in hierdie tydperk Klan -verbindings gehad. Alhoewel niemand van hulle ooit uit eie beweging hul verbintenis met die groep erken het nie, was blootstelling nie altyd noodlottig vir hul reputasie nie: in 1924 het goewerneur van Georgia, Clifford Walker, terwyl hy aanvanklik ontken het dat hy Klan betrokke was, onder druk van die pers toegegee dat hy lid was - maar nogtans sy termyn uitgedien. Aan die ander kant kan blootstelling baie ernstiger gevolge hê; sien byvoorbeeld 'n wiki -artikel oor KKK -verwysings en 'n artikel deur Christopher N. Cocoltchos, "The Invisible Empire and the Search for the Orderly Community: The Ku Klux Klan in Anaheim, California", in Shawn Lay (red.), Die onsigbare ryk in die Weste (2004), pp. 97-120. Hiervolgens het "die Klan -verteenwoordigers maklik die plaaslike verkiesing in Anaheim in April 1924 gewen. Hulle het bekende stadsmanne wat Katoliek was, afgedank en hulle vervang met Klan -aanstellings. en ontbloot die Klansmen wat in die staat se voorverkiesings deelneem; hulle het die meeste kandidate verslaan. Klan -teenstanders het in 1925 die plaaslike regering teruggeneem en daarin geslaag om 'n spesiale verkiesing te herroep aan die Klansmen wat in April 1924 verkies is. "

Teen 1930 was die openbare beeld van die Klan heeltemal verwoes deur terreurdade wat deur hul waaksaam lede veroorsaak is, en daar was verskeie beproewings van sy leiers wat groot publisiteit verkry het (byvoorbeeld Stephenson vs State). Hierdie bladsy gee 'n skatting van 30 000 lede teen 1930, vergeleke met 4 000 000 in 1924 (hierdie skatting is geneem uit "The Various Shady Lives of The Ku Klux Klan". Tyd. 9 April 1965). Alhoewel hierdie ramings onakkuraat kan wees, het die groep se sigbaarheid vinnig gedaal en dit was basies nie meer bestaan ​​totdat dit na die Tweede Wêreldoorlog herleef het nie.

Dit is dus nie baie waarskynlik dat enige Amerikaanse politikus in 1937 dit aanvaarbaar sal vind om sy Klan -lidmaatskap in Suid of andersins toe te laat nie. 10 jaar vroeër of 50 later - miskien (hoewel dit steeds onwaarskynlik is), maar nie in hierdie spesifieke tydperk nie.


Hierdie vraag is geïnspireer deur die film O Brother Where Art Thou, wat in 1937 in Mississippi afspeel ... Ek sou gedink het dat dit in die dertigerjare nog relatief veilig sou gewees het vir 'n blanke suidelike politikus om hom verbonde aan die KKK te vind.

In die film, duidelik die 1937, was die skare van die Mississippi ontsteld oor die onderbreking van die musiek, nie die Klan -band nie. Die eerste idee van hierdie antwoord moet wees: Wie was die senator van Mississippi in 1937?

Theodore G. Bilbo - voormalige goewerneur van Mississippi (17 Januarie 1928 - 19 Januarie 1932). En Senator van die Verenigde State (3 Januarie 1935 - 21 Augustus 1947) Soos baie Suid -Demokrate van sy era het Bilbo geglo dat swart mense minderwaardig is; hy verdedig die segregasie en was 'n lid van die Ku Klux Klan. In 1939 die eerste keer geïdentifiseer as 'n Klansman deur 'n koerant genaamd die Dixie Demagogues. Toe hy gevra is of hy in 'n nasionale onderhoud in die Klan gebly het Ontmoet die pers in 1946 het hy geantwoord.

"Geen mens kan die Klan verlaat nie. Hy neem 'n eed om dit nie te doen nie. Een keer 'n Ku Klux, altyd 'n Ku Klux. Theodore G. Bilbo op Meet the Press 1946,

Ja, The Klan was 'n politieke krag in hierdie land, en nie net in die suide nie, en nie net in die vroeë 1900's nie. Dit was nasionaal kragtig rondom die tyd van die Groot Depressie en dit was kragtig in dele van die land tot by Martin Luther King se burgerregtebeweging van die 1960's.

Die klan het 'n groot opstanding in die Verenigde State gehad ná die vrylating van DW Griffins (1915), 'n baie gewilde geboorte van 'n nasie, en nie net in die suide nie. Die gewildste tydperk van die klan was bekend as die tweede klan (1914-1944). en dit dek die periode van die film "Brother Where Art You" volledig. Gedurende hierdie tydperk bereik die klanlidmaatskap 1924-1925 'n hoogtepunt van 6 miljoen mense.

word 'n politieke mag in baie streke van die Verenigde State, nie net in die suide nie. Sy plaaslike politieke krag in die hele land het dit 'n belangrike rol gespeel in die National Convention of Democratic Party in 1924 (DNC). Die Ku Klux Klan van die 20ste eeu was berug teen antikatoliek en antisemities, benewens antiswart.

Die Demokratiese nominasiebyeenkoms in 1924 wat in New York gehou is, het bekend gestaan ​​as die klanbake omdat soveel deelnemers klansmen was. Daar was absoluut tye en plekke wat in die klan 'n politieke bate was. 'N Beduidende deel van 'n politieke masjien.

Die antwoord op u vraag:

Was in die kkk polities sosiaal aanvaarbaar in die vroeë 1900's amerikaans.

Ja, natuurlik. Selfs in die 1960's ondersteun ouens soos George Wallace en Bull Connors rassisme in die algemeen en die klan spesifiek hul politieke basis.

(Ek het in die middel 1980's in Alabama gewoon toe George Wallace sy laaste termyn as goewerneur gewen het. Hy het dit gedoen met oorweldigende steun van die Afro -Amerikaanse gemeenskap. na 'n nuwe politieke basis en herleef sy politieke loopbaan, toe die politieke landskap van die staat Alabama aansienlik verander het.)

Eugene "Bull" Connor was die kommissaris van openbare veiligheid in Birmingham in 1961 toe die ... Hy was bekend as 'n ultra-segregasie-persoon met noue bande met die KKK.

Ek weet nie of jy weet wie Bull Connors was nie. Klan -affiliasie het sy herverkiesingspogings gedurende die 1960's nie benadeel nie. Hy was die hoof -rassis in die stad Birmingham, Alabama, wat verantwoordelik was vir die toepassing van segregasiewette en om mense wat nie van die wette hou nie, in die algemeen te versterk. Hy het in die sestigerjare die antagonis geword van een van die groot opstandpunte van die burgerregtebeweging. Martin Luther King wou 'n stryd met 'n rassis op nasionale TV kies. Bull Connors was sy man. Vorige optogte na Birmingham deur volwassenes is deur brandslange en aanvalhonde ontmoet. Martin Luther King het gereageer deur 'n golf van kinders betogers te stuur ... sommige so jonk as 8 jaar oud. Bull Connors het nie teleurgestel nie, deur aanvalshonde en brandslange op die kinders te gebruik, wat deur nasionale TV -kamera's vasgevang is, en dit het 'n belangrike keerpunt in die burgerregtebeweging geword namate mense oor die hele land vertroud was met Bull Connors. 3 Mei 1963.

Bull Connors is verslaan vir herverkiesing in 1972 !!!

Die lys van klan -aangeslote politici deur die jare is nie beperk tot die Suide nie, en ook nie die vroeë 1900's nie. Dit is lank genoeg om 'n cliche te wees.

Robert Bird senator van Wes -Virginia was 'n werwer vir die klan en het na die kantoor van groot fietsryers gekom. 'N Uitgesproke advokaat van die klan in die senaat vroeg in sy loopbaan. Vroeg was die clan sy politieke basis.

Hugo Swart Hooggeregshofregter (1937 tot 1971) en senator van Alabama (1927 tot 1937). Black, 'n demokraat, het by die Ku Klux Klan aangesluit om stemme te verkry van die anti-Katolieke element in Alabama. Hy het sy wen -senaat -veldtog opgebou rondom verskeie optredes tydens KKK -vergaderings in Alabama.

Edward L. Jackson Gov van Indiana, het tydens die herlewing in die vroeë 1920's by die Ku Klux Klan aangesluit. Toe hy as republikein in 1925 goewerneur van Indiana word, kom sy administrasie in die spervuur ​​omdat hy die Klan se agenda en medewerkers onnodige guns verleen het.

Rys W. Beteken, 'n Republikeinse senator van die Verenigde State van Colorado, was lid van die Klan in Colorado.

Clarence Morley was 'n Republikeinse goewerneur van Colorado van 1925 tot 1927. Hy was 'n KKK -lid en 'n sterk voorstander van verbod. Hy het probeer om die Katolieke Kerk te verbied om sakramentele wyn te gebruik en het probeer om die Universiteit van Colorado alle Joodse en Katolieke professore af te dank.

Bibb Graves, 'n demokraat, wat die 38ste goewerneur van Alabama was. Hy verloor sy eerste veldtog vir goewerneur in 1922, maar vier jaar later, met die geheime goedkeuring van die Ku Klux Klan, word hy verkies tot sy eerste termyn as goewerneur. Graves was byna seker die Exalted Cyclops (hoofstukpresident) van die Montgomery -hoofstuk van die Klan. Graves het, net soos Hugo Black, die krag van die Klan gebruik om sy kiesvooruitsigte te bevorder.

George Gordon, 'n demokraat en kongreslid vir die 10de kongresdistrik van Tennessee, het een van die eerste lede van die Klan geword. In 1867 word Gordon die eerste Grand Dragon van die Klan vir die koninkryk van Tennessee, en skryf sy voorskrif, 'n boek wat sy organisasie, doel en beginsels beskryf.

Ongeveer teen die tyd dat die tweede Klan -periode tot 'n einde gekom het, het die gewilde radioprogram Superman 'n boog van 16 episodes gedoen oor Superman wat teen die Klan in 1947 geveg het. 'N Man met die naam Stetson wat verbonde was aan die Stetson -hoedmaatskappy (afstammeling) ... het die Klan geïnfiltreer. , het hulle geheime geleer en met die hulp van Superman (die radioprogram) die geheime nasionaal versprei. Ek het verskeie bronne (freakanomics) gelees wat Superman erken dat hy die tweede Klan beëindig het, of ten minste dieselfde soort herlewing wat die klan aan die einde van die Eerste Wêreldoorlog in die Tweede Wêreldoorlog gehad het, voorkom.


Indiana Klan

Die Indiana Klan was 'n tak van die Ku Klux Klan, 'n geheime genootskap in die Verenigde State wat in 1915 georganiseer het om idees van rasse -meerderwaardigheid te bevorder en openbare aangeleenthede te beïnvloed oor verbod, opvoeding, politieke korrupsie en moraliteit. Dit was 'n sterk blanke oppergesag teen Afro -Amerikaners, Chinese Amerikaners, en ook Katolieke en Jode, wie se geloof algemeen verband hou met Ierse, Italiaanse, Balkan- en Slawiese immigrante en hul afstammelinge. In Indiana was die Klan nie geneig om openlik geweld te beoefen nie, maar het in sekere gevalle intimidasie gebruik, terwyl die organisasie nasionaal onwettige dade teen etniese en godsdienstige groepe van minderhede beoefen het.

Die Indiana Klan het in die vroeë twintigerjare na die Eerste Wêreldoorlog bekend geword, toe wit protestante bedreig gevoel het deur sosiale en politieke kwessies, insluitend veranderinge wat veroorsaak is deur dekades van swaar immigrasie uit Suid- en Oos -Europa. Teen 1922 het die staat nasionaal die grootste organisasie gehad, en sy ledetal het dramaties toegeneem onder leiding van DC Stephenson. Dit was gemiddeld 2 000 nuwe lede per week van Julie 1922 tot Julie 1923, toe hy aangestel is as die Groot Draak van Indiana. Hy het aan die einde van 1923 die Indiana Klan en ander hoofstukke onder toesig gelei om van die nasionale organisasie weg te breek.

Die Klan-organisasie van Indiana het in die daaropvolgende jare sy hoogtepunt bereik, met 250 000 lede, na raming 30% van die inheemse blanke mans. Teen 1925 was meer as die helfte van die verkose lede van die Indiana General Assembly, die goewerneur van Indiana en baie ander hooggeplaaste amptenare in die plaaslike en staatsregering lede van die Klan. Politici het ook verneem dat hulle Klan -goedkeuring nodig het om die amp te wen.

Daardie jaar is Stephenson aangekla en skuldig bevind vir die verkragting en moord op Madge Oberholtzer, 'n jong onderwyser. Sy gemene gedrag het 'n skerp daling in die lidmaatskap van Klan veroorsaak, wat verder afgeneem het met sy blootstelling aan die pers van geheime transaksies en die omkoop van die Klan van openbare amptenare. Ontkenning vergewe, in 1927 begin Stephenson met die Indianapolis Timesgee hulle lyste van mense wat deur die Klan betaal is. Hulle persondersoek het baie Klan-lede blootgelê, getoon dat hulle nie wetsgehoorsaam was nie en het die mag van die organisasie beëindig, aangesien lede by die tienduisende uitgeval het. Teen die einde van die dekade was die Klan ongeveer 4000 lede en eindig in die staat. Sommige pogings om dit in die 1960's en 1970's te laat herleef, was nie suksesvol nie.


Nou stroom

Meneer Tornado

Meneer Tornado is die merkwaardige verhaal van die man wie se baanbrekerswerk in navorsing en toegepaste wetenskap duisende lewens gered het en Amerikaners gehelp het om voor te berei op en te reageer op gevaarlike weerverskynsels.

Die Polio Kruistog

Die verhaal van die polio -kruistog bring hulde aan 'n tyd toe Amerikaners saamgespan het om 'n vreeslike siekte te oorwin. Die mediese deurbraak het ontelbare lewens gered en 'n deurdringende impak op die Amerikaanse filantropie gehad wat vandag nog steeds gevoel word.

Amerikaanse Oz

Verken die lewe en tye van L. Frank Baum, die skepper van die geliefde Die wonderlike towenaar van Oz.


Die media en die Ku Klux Klan: 'n debat wat in die 1920's begin het

In die 1920's het die lidmaatskap van die Ku Klux Klan landwyd ontplof, deels te danke aan die dekking daarvan in die nuusmedia. Na beraming het een koerant -uitstalling die Klan gehelp om honderdduisende lede te kry.

Dr Felix Harcourt, 'n professor in geskiedenis aan die Austin College en die skrywer van Ku Klux Kulture, breek wat hy die 'wedersyds voordelige' verhouding tussen die Klan en die pers noem - en verduidelik hoeveel die debat gewoed het oor die dekking van die Ku Klux Klan in die 1920's weerspieël die argumente van vandag.

Hierdie artikel bevat inhoud wat op wnyc.org aangebied word. Ons vra u toestemming voordat iets gelaai word, aangesien die verskaffer moontlik koekies en ander tegnologieë gebruik. Om hierdie inhoud te sien, klik op 'Laat toe en gaan voort '.

Ons kyk na die debat wat tans in die media plaasvind oor die hantering van wit supremacistiese en neo-Nazi-bewegings. U het gekyk na dieselfde debat wat amper 100 jaar gelede plaasgevind het. Kan u die toneel vir ons bepaal?

In 1921 het die New York World 'n drie weke lange voorblad-uiteensetting van die Klan gehou: daaglikse veroordelings van sy ideologie, van sy aktiwiteite, van sy geheimhouding en van sy geneigdheid tot geweld. Hulle het daarin geslaag om feitlik elke groot verteenwoordiger van New York op rekord te kry in teenstelling met die Klan. Uiteindelik lei dit tot 'n kongresverhoor oor die groeiende krag van die Klan. Volgens sommige ramings verhoog dit die verspreiding van die wêreld met meer as 100,000 lesers. Dit word aan 17 ander koerante gesindikeer en veroorsaak soortgelyke blootstellings regoor die land. Maar sommige het geraam dat terwyl die wêreld 100 000 lesers optel, die Klan se wins in die honderdduisende nuwe lede is - na berig word selfs lidmaatskapaansoeke uit die New York World -verhale uitgesny het om by hierdie organisasie aan te sluit waarvan hulle pas gehoor het.

Hulle sê: 'Hier is die geheime lidmaatskap -aansoekvorm van Klan. Is dit nie vreeslik dat haat in die Verenigde State so lyk nie? ” en mense sny dit uit hul koerante en sê: "Ek gaan aansluit."

Waarom het iets soortgelyks tydens 'n vroeëre periode van Klan -aktiwiteit nie plaasgevind nie?

Tot 'n mate verander dit koerantstyle. Teen die tyd dat die twintigerjare kom, was daar 'n geweldige stap in die rigting van poniekoerant en joernalistiek. En in werklikheid pas die dekking van die Klan perfek in die neiging. Dit het opvallende beelde op die voorblaaie van koerante gemaak. Dit het baie oogballe getrek. En die Klan was heeltemal bewus hiervan. Hulle was baie versigtig om geleenthede op die verhoog te bestuur om maksimum aandag te trek, en hulle het 'n gesamentlike poging aangewend om joernaliste uit te nooi, maar het daarna gesorg dat joernaliste nie te na kom nie-om oënskynlik 'die geheime te beskerm', om die mythos. Maar dit is alles 'n taktiek van hulle - hulle benodig aandag van die pers, maar moet hul mistiek behou.

So was die Klan bewus van die mediakonteks waarin dit werk?

Baie bewus. Hulle weet dat foto's van die Klan - duidelike foto's van naby - baie wenslik is vir baie koerante. Daarom stig hulle hul eie persfotograaf en verkoop die foto's dan aan die plaaslike koerante. Hulle weet dat sekere soorte gebeure meer pers aandag sal trek, en daarom sien u voortdurend eskalerende gebeure om die grootste vuurkruis in die Verenigde State te hê of die vloot vliegtuie met elektriese kruise wat daaronder hang. En daar is werklik hierdie klem op skouspelagtigheid.

Hoe het die debatte oor die mediadekking aanvanklik afgespeel en toe verander?

Die neiging is om die New York World -model van hiperboliese veroordeling te volg. Daar is egter steeds meer bewustheid dat die Klan baie effektiewe metodes het om die dekking wat hy ontvang, te reguleer. Soms gebruik hulle fisiese bedreigings. Die redakteurs van die Messenger ['n Afro-Amerikaanse tydskrif] het 'n afgesnyde hand per pos ontvang. Maar meer dikwels, omdat hulle in mag en invloed gegroei het, kon hulle die boikot as 'n baie, baie effektiewe hulpmiddel gebruik - en toenemend advertensies, om advertensiedolles te beloof aan publikasies wat ten minste 'n neutrale lyn van die organisasie volg.

Het die fokus op advertensie -dollars vrugte afgewerp?

Amper sekerlik. Hulle huur vroeg in die 20's groot agentskappe. U sien baie verspreide advertensies wat beweer: 'Dit is die waarheid oor die Klan. Moenie luister na wat die pers sê nie. ” Baie veral blanke hoofblaaie is al hoe meer bewus daarvan dat terwyl die veroordeling van die Klan sommige lesers kan kry, dit ook lesers kan verloor. Die manier om voordeel te trek, is om die Klan in 'n redelik neutrale lig te bedek. Die probleem hiermee is natuurlik dat deur te probeer om onpartydig te wees wat u werklik doen, die Klan as genormaliseerd en gesanitiseer word - omstrede, ja, maar 'n gewilde en algemeen aanvaarde organisasie.

So, watter groepe en gemeenskappe betwis die manier waarop die KKK in die media uitgebeeld word?

Katolieke, Joodse en swart koerante het teruggedruk. Sommige in die swart pers dink dat die beste ding is om die Klan hoegenaamd geen publisiteit te ontken nie - dit was destyds 'waardige stilte' genoem. Ander vergelyk die Klan egter met 'n veldbrand. As u die suurstof afsny, sal dit uiteindelik doodgaan, maar dit beteken nie dat dit intussen geweldige skade sal aanrig nie. En so voer ander koerante aan dat daar 'n baie meer aktiewe persveldtog moet wees. Dus, eerder as om die verhaal van 'n gewilde dag op die Texas State Fair aan die Klan te bied, sou 'n publikasie soos die Pittsburgh Courier eerder fokus op beplande byeenkomste wat in geweld en onluste neergedaal het - om hierdie idee te probeer bestry omdat dit implisiet in die gewone wit koerante geplaas word, was dit suksesvol terwyl die Klan omstrede was.

Is joernaliste humor of spot gebruik?

U sien baie politieke tekenprente wat oor die Klan spog, maar een van die mees prominente teaterkritici van die tyd het opgemerk dat die Klan in 'n wolk vla -pasteie kan floreer. Hierdie bespotting het nie regtig 'n uitwerking op die Klan -lidmaatskap nie. Dikwels het Klan -lede en Klan -simpatiseerders die kritiek gesien as 'n bewys dat hulle die regte vyande het, dat hulle op die regte pad was. En hierdie kritiek is uiteindelik uiteindelik teenproduktief.

U het gesê dat die Klan uiteindelik verder gegaan het as selfs gunstige algemene persdekking en hul eie afsetpunte gemaak het.

Die nasionale Klan -leierskap skep hul eie nasionale koerantsindikaat genaamd die Kourier, met 'n K, wat teen die begin van 1925 aanspraak maak op 'n oplaag van meer as een en 'n half miljoen lesers. Die waarskynlikheid is dat dit 'n opgeblase getal is, soos met enige getalle wat die Klan beweer het. Maar selfs al sê ons dat daar slegs 'n halfmiljoen lesers was wat dit tot dusver tot een van die mees geleesde weeklikse publikasies in die Verenigde State sou maak. Dit was 'n baie waardevolle vorm van propaganda om bestaande nuusbronne effektief te vervang met hierdie publikasie wat plaaslike nuus gebruik, maar ook 'n nasionale nuus gebring het en dit alles deur hierdie Klannish ideologiese lens aangebied het.

Watter soort nasionale verhale sou in 'n Klan -koerant verskyn?

Die verhouding tussen die VSA en Mexiko. Presidensiële politiek. Gebalanseer deur die idee dat dit bedoel is om 'n familiepublikasie te wees, sodat u 'n lang katholieke invloed in Amerika op een bladsy en op die volgende bladsy 'n resep vir pimento toast sou hê. 'N Bladsy vir jong lesers met 'n grap. Dit bevat blokkiesraaisels en raaisels wat belaglik die vurige blokkiesraaisel genoem word.

U beskryf 'n opkomende organisasie wat sy eie koerant bestuur en 'n ontploffing in lidmaatskap. Wat het gebeur? Waarom het dit nie gehou nie?

Daar is 'n soort standaardvertelling wat sê dat druk van buite en veral skandaal draai om een ​​van die belangrikste Klan -leiers in Indiana wat 'n vrou seksueel aanrand wat haar dan doodmaak. Hierdie skandale diskrediteer uiteindelik die Klan en die openbare oog en lei tot hul ineenstorting. Alternatiewelik is daar argumente dat die Klan na die goedkeuring van die immigrasiewet van 1924 tot 'n mate sy rede verloor het en weer in die eter oplos. Hierdie tradisionele vertellings is egter problematies, want nie een van hulle handel eintlik oor die feit dat terwyl die Klan as organisasie weggaan, die Klan as 'n beweging heeltemal teenwoordig bly omdat die mense wat die Klan uitgemaak het - die miljoene lede en die miljoene lede simpatiseerders - moenie skielik van plan verander oor hul oortuigings nie. En dit is dus minder akkuraat om te sê dat die Klan in duie stort as om te sê dat die Klan in nuwe vorms ontwikkel.

Watter uitwerking het die debat oor die Klan en die dekking van die Klan in die twintigerjare op die media gehad? Het hul benaderings tot hierdie soort verhaal verander?

Dit het opvallend baie min impak gehad. Dit is 'n hartseer verhaal. Daar was 'n kruistog in die koerante deur die 20's, wat gewaagde standpunte teen die Klan ingeneem het, selfs al was die gewaagde standpunte uiteindelik nie baie effektief om dit te bestry nie. Maar die feit dat hierdie standpunte ingeneem is onder 'n aantal van hierdie artikels wat met Pulitzer -pryse bekroon is, het die pers in werklikheid vanaf die dertigerjare laat terugkyk en hulself gelukgewens met die verslaan van die Klan.

So kyk koerante terug en sien hulle hul Pulitzer-bekroonde ondersoeke en ignoreer hulle die feit dat dekking in werklikheid die Klan-lidmaatskap laat toeneem het.

Ja. Daar is baie min historiese bewustheid van die werklikheid van die verhouding tussen die Klan en die pers, wat eintlik 'n verhouding van wedersydse uitbuiting was, meer as enigiets anders.


Amerikaanse ervaring

Amerikaanse ervaring het die sosioloog en Ku Klux Klan -geleerde David Cunningham gevra om antwoorde te gee op die vyf vrae wat hy die meeste oor die Klan gevra word. Die skrywer van Klansville, VSA: Die opkoms en ondergang van die burgerregte-era KKK (Oxford University Press, 2013), Cunningham is professor en voorsitter van sosiologie aan die Brandeis Universiteit.

David Cunningham. Krediet: Rick Friedman

Voordat ek die dringendste vrae bespreek wat mense oor die KKK het, wil ek 'n bietjie agtergrond byvoeg vir die basiese konteks. Die Ku Klux Klan is die eerste keer in 1866 gestig deur die pogings van 'n klein groepie konfederale veterane in Tennessee. Die KKK het vinnig uitgebrei van 'n gelokaliseerde lidmaatskap, en is miskien die mees resonerende voorstelling van blanke oppergesag en rasseterreur in die VSA. die gebruik van nou ikoniese rassistiese simbole-wit kappies, vloeiende lakens, vurige kruise-en 'n voorliefde vir vigilante geweld. Die gevolg van die Klan het geneig om te styg en te daal in siklusse waarna dikwels 'golwe' verwys word. Die oorspronklike KKK-inkarnasie is grootliks gestaak na federale wetgewing wat in die vroeë 1870's op klan gepleeg is. Die tweede - en grootste - golf van die Klan het in die 1920's 'n hoogtepunt bereik, met KKK -lidmate in die miljoene. Na die ontbinding van die tweede golf in die vroeë veertigerjare, het self-geïdentifiseerde KKK-groepe gedurende die 1960's ook aansienlike opvolgings gebou in reaksie op die stygende burgerregtebeweging. Verskeie inkarnasies het sedertdien steeds gemobiliseer-dikwels deur gemengde verbintenisse met neo-nazi's, neo-konfederate en Christelike identiteitsorganisasies-maar in klein getalle en sonder 'n beduidende invloed op die algemene politiek.

Die AMERICAN EXPERIENCE -dokumentêr Klansville, VSA fokus op die burgerregte-era KKK en vertel die verhaal van Bob Jones, die suksesvolste Klan-organiseerder sedert die Tweede Wêreldoorlog. Vanaf 1963 neem Jones die Noord -Carolina -leiding oor van die vooraanstaande KKK -organisasie in die suide, die United Klans of America, en teen 1965 spog sy 'Carolina Klan' met meer as 10 000 lede in die hele staat, meer as die res van die Suide saam. Jones se verhaal belig ons begrip van die lang geskiedenis van die KKK in die algemeen, en bied veral 'n lens om die vrae wat volg te oorweeg.

1. Hoe groot 'n bedreiging is die KKK vandag in die VSA?
In 'n belangrike sin kan dit so wees die sleutelvraag oor die KKK en of ons ons vandag nog moet bekommer oor die Klan. Dit is waarskynlik daarom dat elke bespreking wat ek oor die Klan gehad het - hetsy in klaskamers, gemeenskapsgeleenthede, radio -onderhoude of skemerkelkies - 'n weergawe van hierdie probleem is. Ek reageer gewoonlik kortliks dat 'n groter aantal KKK -organisasies vandag bestaan ​​as op enige ander tydstip in die lang geskiedenis van die groep, maar dat byna al hierdie groepe klein, marginaal is en geen betekenisvolle politieke of sosiale invloed het nie.

Ek kan egter twee voorbehoude by die gerusstellende portret voeg. Die eerste is dat marginale, geïsoleerde ekstremistiese selle self broeiplekke kan word vir onvoorspelbare geweld. Op die hoogtepunt van sy invloed uit die 1960's, sou Bob Jones gereeld aan verslaggewers sê dat, as hulle werklik bekommerd was oor geweld wat deur Klan -lede gepleeg is, hulle grootste vrees sou wees dat hy die KKK sou ontbind, sodat individuele lede 'n chaos kon loslaat van die struktuur opgelê deur die groep. Aangesien Jones se volgelinge honderde terreurdade gepleeg het wat deur die KKK -leierskap goedgekeur is, was sy bewering natuurlik oneerlik, maar dit bevat ook 'n greintjie waarheid: Jones en sy medeleiers het lede afgeraai - van wie baie dolle rassisme met onstabiele aggressie gekombineer het - - van geweld wat nie deur die KKK -hiërargie goedgekeur is nie. By gebrek aan 'n breër organisasie met baie te verloor as gevolg van 'n onderdrukking deur owerhede, kan rassistiese geweld baie moeiliker wees om te voorkom of te polisieer.

Die tweede voorbehoud spruit uit KKK se geskiedenis van opkoms en terugtrek in uitgesproke "golwe." Tussen die groep se periodes van groot invloed - byvoorbeeld gedurende die 1880's, of in die 1940's, of die 1980's - het die lot van die Klan nog altyd verskyn. Maar in elke geval het die een of ander 'wedergebore' weergawe van die KKK daarin geslaag om te herstel en te oorleef. Alhoewel die KKK vandag 'n anachronisme en miskien 'n bedreiging is as ander rassistiese haat, moet ons steeds rassistiese ondernemers teenstaan ​​wat probeer om die historiese kachet van die KKK te benut om nuwe veldtogte te organiseer om wit supremacistiese doelwitte te bevorder. Vir my is dit 'n primêre les uit die verlede van die KKK, en 'n dwingende rede om nie die blywende relevansie van die geskiedenis te vergeet of te verwerp nie.

2. Het die KKK 'n blywende politieke impak gehad?
Volgens die mees eenvoudige maatreëls lyk die KKK as 'n mislukte sosiale beweging. Ondanks die politieke inmenging van die Klan gedurende die 1920's, toe miljoene lede daarin geslaag het om honderde KKK-gesteunde kandidate vir die plaaslike, staats- en selfs federale kantoor te kies, was die groep nie in staat om sy invloed by die stembus na die dekade te behou nie. Later kon KKK -golwe nooit beloftes nakom om hierdie invloedryke Klan -stemblok te herbou nie. Bob Jones se Carolina Klan kom die naaste daaraan toe om sodanige invloed te wen, met hoofstroomkandidate wat guns (soms in die openbaar en meer dikwels heimlik by Klan-byeenkomste en ander geleenthede) by Jones en ander leiers in 1964 en 1968. Maar hierdie poging het van korte duur gelyk. , met beide Jones en die Carolina Klan, wat in die vroeë sewentigerjare amper verdwyn het.

Meer algemeen het die KKK se verbintenis tot blanke oppergesag, wat die duidelikste besef is deur die segregasie van die Jim Crow-styl wat dekades lank in die Suide geduur het, by enige formele maatstaf as 'n werklike moontlikheid in die VSA teruggetrek, maar op minder openlike maniere het die impak van die KKK kan nog steeds gevoel word. Onlangse studies wat ek met mede -sosioloë Rory McVeigh en Justin Farrell onderneem het, het getoon hoe die provinsies waarin die KKK gedurende die 1960's aktief was, verskil van dié waarin die Klan nooit op twee belangrike maniere vastrapplek gekry het nie.

Eerstens toon die provinsies waarin die Klan tydens die burgerregte -era teenwoordig was, steeds hoër geweldsmisdaad. Hierdie verskil duur selfs 40 jaar nadat die beweging self verdwyn het, en word beslis nie verklaar deur die feit dat voormalige Klansmen self meer misdade pleeg nie. Die impak van die Klan werk eerder wyer, deur die bytende effek wat georganiseerde waaksaamheid op die algemene gemeenskap het. Deur wet en orde te skend, stel 'n kultuur van waaksaamheid die legitimiteit van gevestigde owerhede in twyfel en verswak bande wat normaalweg dien om respek en orde onder gemeenskapslede te handhaaf. Sodra dit verbreek is, is dit moeilik om sulke bande te herstel, wat verklaar waarom ons selfs vandag nog 'n toename in geweldsmisdaad in voormalige KKK -vestings sien.

Tweedens help die verlede Klan -teenwoordigheid ook om die belangrikste verskuiwing in die plaaslike stempatrone sedert 1950 te verduidelik: die suidelike uitgesproke beweging na die Republikeinse Party. Hoewel die steun aan Republikeinse kandidate sedert die 1960's regoor die land toegeneem het, vind ons dat sulke verskuiwings aansienlik meer uitgespreek is in gebiede waarin die KKK aktief was. Die Klan het gehelp om hierdie effek te bewerkstellig deur kiesers aan te moedig om weg te gaan van Demokratiese kandidate wat toenemend steun aan hervormings van burgerregte maak, en ook deur rassekonflikte na vore te bring en die kwessies duideliker in ooreenstemming te bring met partyplatforms. As gevolg hiervan, teen die negentigerjare, korreleer ras-konserwatiewe houding onder die suidelike mense sterk met die Republikeinse steun, maar slegs in gebiede waar die KKK aktief was.

3. Is die KKK meestal 'n beweging in die landelike Suid?
While many of the Klan's most infamous acts of deadly violence -- including the 1964 Freedom Summer killings, the 1965 murder of civil rights activist Viola Liuzzo, and the 1981 lynching of Michael Donald that led to the 1987 lawsuit that ultimately put the United Klans of America out of business for good -- occurred in the Deep South, during the 1920s the KKK was truly a national movement, with urban centers like Detroit, Portland, Denver, and Indianapolis boasting tens of thousands of members and significant political influence.

Even in the 1960s, when the KKK's public persona seemed synonymous with Mississippi and Alabama, more dues-paying Klan members resided in North Carolina than the rest of the South combined. KKK leaders found the Tar Heel State fertile recruiting ground, despite -- or perhaps because of -- the state's progressive image, which enabled the Klan to claim that they were the only group that would defend white North Carolinians against rising civil rights pressures. While this message resonated in rural areas across the state's eastern coastal plain, the KKK built a significant following in cities like Greensboro and Raleigh as well.

Today, the Southern Poverty Law Center reports active KKK groups in 41 states, though nearly all of those groups remain marginal with tiny memberships. So, while the KKK originated after the Civil War as a distinctly southern effort to preserve the antebellum racial order, its presence has extended well beyond that region throughout the 20th and 21st centuries.

4. Why do KKK members wear white hoods and burn crosses?
Some of the most recognizable Klan symbols date back to the group's origins following the Civil War. The KKK's white hoods and robes evolved from early efforts to pose as ghosts or "spectral" figures, drawing on then-resonant symbols in folklore to play "pranks" against African-Americans and others. Such tricks quickly took on more politically sinister overtones, as sheeted Klansmen would commonly terrorize their targets, using hoods and masks to disguise their identities when carrying out acts of violence under the cover of darkness.

Fiery crosses, perhaps the Klan's most resonant symbol, have a more surprising history. No documented cross burnings occurred during the first Klan wave in the 19th century. However, D.W. Griffith's epic 1915 film Die geboorte van 'n nasie, which adapted Thomas F. Dixon, Jr.'s novels The Clansman en The Leopard's Spots to portray the KKK as heroic defenders of the Old South and white womanhood generally, drew on material from The Clansman to depict a cross-burning scene. The symbol was quickly appropriated by opportunistic KKK leaders to help spur the group's subsequent "rebirth."

Through the 1960s, Klan leaders regularly depicted the cross as embodying the KKK's Christian roots -- a means to spread the light of Jesus into the countryside. A bestselling 45rpm record put out by United Klans of America included the Carolina Klan's Bob Jones reciting how the fiery cross served as a "symbol of sacrifice and service, and a sign of the Christian Religion sanctified and made holy nearly 19 centuries ago, by the suffering and blood of 50 million martyrs who died in the most holy faith." He emphasized cross burnings as "driv[ing] away darkness and gloom… by the fire of the Cross we mean to purify and cleanse our virtues by the fire on His Sword." Such grandiose rhetoric, of course, could not dispel the reality that the KKK frequently deployed burning crosses as a means of terror and intimidation, and also as a spectacle to draw supporters and curious onlookers to their nightly rallies, which always climaxed with the ritualized burning of a cross that often extended 60 or 70 feet into the sky.

5. Has the KKK always functioned as a violent terrorist group?
The KKK's emphasis on violence and intimidation as a means to defend its white supremacist ends has been the primary constant across its various "waves." Given the group's brutal history, validating Klan apologists who minimize the group's terroristic legacy makes little sense. However, during the periods of peak KKK successes in both the 1920s and 1960s, when Klan organizations were often significant presences in many communities, their appeal was predicated on connecting the KKK to varied aspects of members' and supporters' lives.

Such efforts meant that, in the 1920s, alongside the KKK's political campaigns, members also marched in parades with Klan floats, pursued civic campaigns to support temperance, public education, and child welfare, and hosted a range of social events alongside women's and youth Klan auxiliary groups. Similarly, during the civil rights era, many were drawn to the KKK's militance, but also to leaders' promises to offer members "racially pure" weekend fish frys, turkey shoots, dances, and life insurance plans. In this sense, the Klan served as an "authentically white" social and civic outlet, seeking to insulate members from a changing broader world.

The Klan's undoing in both of these eras related in part to Klan leaders' inability to maintain the delicate balancing act between such civic and social initiatives and the group's association with violence and racial terror. Indeed, in the absence of the latter, the Klan's emphasis on secrecy and ritual would have lost much of its nefarious mystique, but KKK-style lawlessness frequently went hand-in-hand with corruption among its own leaders. More importantly, Klan violence also often resulted in a backlash against the group, both from authorities and among the broader public.


Nou stroom

Meneer Tornado

Meneer Tornado is die merkwaardige verhaal van die man wie se baanbrekerswerk in navorsing en toegepaste wetenskap duisende lewens gered het en Amerikaners gehelp het om voor te berei op en te reageer op gevaarlike weerverskynsels.

Die Polio Kruistog

Die verhaal van die polio -kruistog bring hulde aan 'n tyd toe Amerikaners saamgespan het om 'n vreeslike siekte te oorwin. Die mediese deurbraak het ontelbare lewens gered en 'n deurdringende impak op die Amerikaanse filantropie gehad wat vandag nog steeds gevoel word.

Amerikaanse Oz

Verken die lewe en tye van L. Frank Baum, die skepper van die geliefde Die wonderlike towenaar van Oz.


Inhoud

Racism in Oregon Edit

Starting when it was still a territory, Oregon had several laws prohibiting both enslaved and free African Americans from living in the state. The first, in 1843, outlawed slavery except as part of a sentence for a crime. It was amended in 1844 to set a restriction on how long slave owners had to move their slaves out of state before the state would free them. However, free blacks were also not allowed to remain in the state, the punishment for staying being a lashing, although this provision was repealed before ever being enforced. A second law was passed in 1848 that barred African Americans from migrating into Oregon but allowed those already residing in the state to stay this law was overturned in 1854. [3] When Oregon was admitted into the Union in 1859, there was an exclusionary law included in its constitution that prohibited blacks from living in the state, owning property, or entering into contracts. [4] The 14th Amendment effectively overrode this law, but it was not officially repealed until 1926. [5]

Ku Klux Klan Expansion into Oregon Edit

With similar views of racism, white supremacy and anti-Catholic, anti-Semitic, and anti-immigrant stances, it was easy for the Klan to move in to Oregon. The first member of the Ku Klux Klan was sworn in by Major Luther I. Powell in 1921 in Medford. During the same time, other members of the Klan were at work searching for new recruits across the state to add to their numbers and organize local chapters and klaverns. [2]

Eugene Edit

Early recruitment in Eugene was led by Powell, with help from local members and other associates of Powell, who would speak to the public alongside showings of the D. W. Griffith film The Birth of a Nation. In tandem with a religious revival in the area, they appealed to residents' concern for keeping foreign influences out as well as their desires for patriotism and morality. There were already over 80 members when a local newspaper wrote about the Klan arriving in town, and shortly thereafter the group would be formally organized under Exalted Cyclops Frederick S. Dunn, who was employed at the University of Oregon as department head of Latin studies. Members of Eugene Klan No. 3 quickly became involved in local politics, voicing not only moral stances against alcohol and prostitution, but anti-Catholic views as well, that resulted, directly and indirectly, in the ouster of several teachers and local leaders, which also coincided with the sudden resignation of Mayor O. C. Peterson, Chief of Police Chris Christensen, and City Attorney O. H. Foster. Additionally, many candidates endorsed by the Eugene Klan obtained local office in the fall of 1922. However, efforts to include the University of Oregon in their sphere of influence did not succeed, due to opposition from students, graduates, and faculty and administration, though this did not mean that there was no Klan presence on campus. The Klan was able to keep speakers and activities contrary to their values to a minimum several members had business ties to campus life, a few were alumni, a few more faculty and students. Even the football graduate manager Jack Benefiel and coach, C.A. "Shy" Huntington were klansmen. When the state legislature passed the Compulsory Education Act in 1922, the Klan's presence put Lane county among the 14 counties in the state where voters were in support of the measure. [1] In March 1924, the Klan joined forces with the local post of the American Legion (which at the time was led by klansman George Love) to oppose Peter Vasillevich Verigin announcing that he would send around 10,000 of his Doukhobor followers from British Columbia to settle in the Willamette Valley. Ultimately, after a rally against the Doukhobor in Junction City in August, not much else would be done due to the murder of Verigin and very few Doukhobor actually moving, and their eventual return to Canada. Other than the Doukhobor incident, one of the last notable activities of Eugene Klan No. 3 was June 27, 1924 at the Lane County Fairgrounds. They held a parade through downtown, with participants and spectators from all over Oregon and from various Klan-related organizations, joined also by the city band and another local organization's band. There were fireworks and a burning cross above them on Skinner's Butte, and they gathered afterwards at the fairgrounds for an initiation ceremony, lit by cross covered in red lights instead of fire. Eventually, after the resignation of Fred L. Gifford from his post as Grand Dragon, in addition to national issues within the Klan, Klan No. 3 died out in the 1930s, although the exact time is not clear. [1]

Tillamook Edit

In 1922-1925, the Ku Klux Klan saw unlikely growth in Tillamook, a small county found on the northern Oregon coast. Soon after the rise of the Klan's presence in Portland, Oregon, the Klan was established in Tillamook. the Klan found lots of success in Tillamook. The KKK also offered recognition of many native-born Protestants who were not previously accepted in their society. The KKK was originally drawn to Tillamook because of the lack of external opposition and threats. While no klansmen were directly involved with local political occupations, becoming allies with the KKK was essential for any politician to succeed and get re-elected. [6]

Portland Edit

The Ku Klux Klan's development and growth across America was widely known as the "Middle-Class Movement". [7] Initial growth in Portland, Oregon was fundamentally founded on this principle. The traditions of the middle class, as well as their populist beliefs, complimented the black exclusion laws that existed in the mid-1800s. In addition, there were anti-Chinese and anti-Japanese sentiments present because of the populations of such groups in Portland and the surrounding areas. [1] Portland was not fully made up of middle-class citizens, however, and its political activity was often anti-populist. The Klan had a very deep and complex presence in Portland, and no membership records exist of Klan members in the early 1900s. During the months of February and April of 1922, over two thousand klansmen participated in induction ceremonies the specific number of Portland klansmen is still unknown, but the state was estimated to contain more than 50,000 members. Members of the KKK in Portland came from a variety of backgrounds including doctors, lawyers, businessmen, clerks, and many other professions. Mount Tabor was home to many cross burnings. [7] [8]

The 1924 bidding process for the replacement of the Burnside Bridge ended with a suspicious winning bid the public would later learn that the 1924 contract was given for $500,000 more than the lowest bid. Having moved the bridge location to profit by selling their land, three Multnomah County commissioners were recalled as a result of the scandal, and a new engineering company assumed control of the project. The KKK had backed the commissioners and the enabled their system of kickbacks and grafts the ensuing "rotten bridge scandal" removed much of their clout even by 1924. [8]

Black Exclusion Laws Edit

Around 1840 to 1850, residents of Oregon generally did not support slavery, however, they also did not want to live alongside African Americans. As a result, section four of article XVII was amended to prohibit slavery in Oregon, and force slave owners to remove slaves from the state. Once in effect, freed male slaves could not stay in Oregon for more than two years, and a female slave could not stay longer than three years. Any free African American who refused to leave would be subject to lashings and beatings. Eventually, the lashings were prohibited in 1845. [9]

The Territorial Legislature enacted the second exclusion law on September 21, 1849. This law specified that "it shall not be lawful for any negro or mulatto to enter into, or reside" in Oregon. This law targeted African American seamen who could be tempted to jump overboard and swim to the coast to escape. Lawmakers were concerned that blacks would "intermix with Indians, instilling into their minds feelings of hostility toward the white race". The second exclusion act was later rescinded in 1854. [9]


‘White Shadows in the Yard’

In his family, Kent A. Garrett Jr. ’63 is one generation removed from sharecroppers. Having grown up in Brooklyn, N.Y., he says going to Harvard was so foreign, it was “kind of like landing on the moon.”

Garrett was one of 18 Black members of Harvard’s class of 1963. After racing across the country to interview his former classmates, he anthologized their experiences in his book “The Last Negroes at Harvard,” published last year.

He tells me that Fred Lee Glimp Jr. ’50, then Dean of Admissions who later became the Dean of the College, called him and other Black students at Harvard “an experiment.” Garrett remembers a white classmate even “studied” him and the other Black students, dubbing them the “White Shadows in the Yard,” in a class paper that received an A. Racial hatred as glaring as cross burning, Garrett says, was rare — but constant indignities and less aggressive forms of racism were regular.

Garrett joined Harvard just seven years after the cross burning and says that no students had “passed down” the history of the incident to him. He never learned about it until he began work on his book. But the cross burning’s legacy, in the form of institutional and interpersonal racism, blazed bright.

While he was at Harvard, Garrett said, students had a willingness to associate with the Klan as a “joke.”

“It was the thing to do — to be in the KKK,” Garrett recalls.

By mid-century, an organized Klan at Harvard had all but vanished. Instead “KKK” transformed into a frequent racist invocation, a conjuring jeered at Black and Jewish students.

The “KKK brothers,” in a 1937 demonstration reported on by The Crimson, released “flory crosses, crudely constructed from paper but none-the-less grimly reminiscent of [the] real thing” to float down and around the Dunster House courtyard.

“Perhaps KKK terrorism is not confined to the deep South,” a Dunster resident remarked at the time.

Between the 1950s and 1970s, Harvard students would sign up for or propose at least four separate screenings of “The Birth of a Nation,” a historic 1915 Klan manifesto turned three-hour film. All were criticized as being shown without historical context.

One screening, planned in the same year as the cross burning, was canceled after the NAACP put the pressure on, which “disappointed” the more than 250 students signed up, according to a Crimson article at the time.

Howard J. Phillips ’62, elected as Harvard’s student body president in 1962, was lauded by “The Cross and the Flag,” a Klan magazine, for his “patriotic” ideological bent. Phillips publicly and immediately disavowed the Klan. But later in life, Phillips invited Richard Shoff, the former Grand Kilgrapp (state secretary) of the Indiana Klan, to serve on a lobbying group governing board with him.

In several incidents across the 20th century, including one as late as 1996, students saw KKK leaflets, threatening letters, and KKK graffiti on campus.

Garrett never mentioned any acknowledgement from the University of the challenges he and other Black students at the time faced.

“Yale and Harvard were intent on keeping their Southern alumni happy,” he surmised.


The Red Scare in the 1920

America may be famed for its Jazz Age and prohibition during the 1920’s, and for its economic strength before the Wall Street Crash, but a darker side existed. The KKK dominated the South and those who did not fit in found that they were facing the full force of the law. Those who supported un-American political beliefs, such as communism, were suspects for all sorts of misdemeanors.

The so-called “Red Scare” refers to the fear of communism in the USA during the 1920’s. It is said that there were over 150,000 anarchists or communists in USA in 1920 alone and this represented only 0.1% of the overall population of the USA.

“The whole lot were about as dangerous as a flea on an elephant.” (US journalist)

However many Americans were scared of the communists especially as they had overthrown the royal family in Russia in 1917 and murdered them in the following year. In 1901, an anarchist had shot the American president (McKinley) dead.

The fear of communism increased when a series of strikes occurred in 1919. The police of Boston went on strike and 100,000’s of steel and coal workers did likewise. The communists usually always got the blame.

A series of bomb explosions in 1919, including a bungled attempt to blow up A. Mitchell Palmer, America’sProkureur-generaal, lead to a campaign against the communists. On New Year’s Day, 1920, over 6000 people were arrested and put in prison. Many had to be released in a few weeks and only 3 guns were found in their homes. Very few people outside of the 6000 arrested complained about the legality of these arrests such was the fear of communism. The judicial system seemed to turn a blind eye as America’s national security was paramount

However, far more people complained about the arrest of Nicola Sacco en Bartolomeo Vanzetti.

They were arrested in May 1920 and charged with a wages robbery in which 2 guards were killed.

Both men were from Italy and both spoke little English. But both were known to be anarchists and when they were found they both had loaded guns on them. The judge at their trial – Judge Thayer – was known to hate the “Reds” and 61 people claimed that they saw both men at the robbery/murders. But 107 people claimed that they had seen both men elsewhere when the crime was committed. Regardless of this both men were found guilty. They spent 7 years in prison while their lawyers appealed but in vain. Despite many public protests and petitions, both men were executed by electric chair on August 24th, 1927.

Throughout the 1920’s and 1930’s a culture developed within America which both feared and despised communism. This stance against the “Reds” only become diluted when America and Russia allied against a common foe in the Second World War.


White Supremacy and Terrorism

White supremacy is the belief that white people are superior to others because of their race. Prior to the Civil War, racism and white supremacy had been common attitudes in both the North and the South. After the Emancipation Proclamation, when Union troops began to fight for the abolishment of slavery, Northern attitudes shifted slightly, and many felt that blacks deserved equal legal rights and equal protection, even if they were not considered socially equal.

In the South, however, white supremacists did not believe blacks should have any such rights. During Reconstruction, white supremacists formed political and social groups to promote whites and oppress blacks, and to enact laws that codified inequality. The Ku Klux Klan (founded in 1865) and the Knights of the White Camellia (1867) were secret groups, while members of the White League (1874) and the Red Shirts (1875) were publically known. All four groups used violence to intimidate blacks and Republican voters. Their efforts succeeded, and with the end of Reconstruction in 1877, white supremacy became the reality of the South.


The Racist History of Portland, the Whitest City in America

It’s known as a modern-day hub of progressivism, but its past is one of exclusion.

PORTLAND, Ore.—Victor Pierce has worked on the assembly line of a Daimler Trucks North America plant here since 1994. But he says that in recent years he’s experienced things that seem straight out of another time. White co-workers have challenged him to fights, mounted “hangman’s nooses” around the factory, referred to him as “boy” on a daily basis, sabotaged his work station by hiding his tools, carved swastikas in the bathroom, and written the word nigger on walls in the factory, according to allegations filed in a complaint to the Multnomah County Circuit Court in February 2015.

Pierce is one of six African Americans working in the Portland plant whom the lawyer Mark Morrell is representing in a series of lawsuits against Daimler Trucks North America. The cases have been combined and a trial is scheduled for January 2017.

“They have all complained about being treated poorly because of their race,” Morrell told me. “It’s a sad story—it’s pretty ugly on the floor there.” (Daimler said it could not comment on pending litigation, but spokesman David Giroux said that the company prohibits discrimination and investigates any allegations of harassment.)

The allegations may seem at odds with the reputation of this city known for its progressivism. But many African Americans in Portland say they’re not surprised when they hear about racial incidents in this city and state. That’s because racism has been entrenched in Oregon, maybe more than any state in the north, for nearly two centuries. When the state entered the union in 1859, for example, Oregon explicitly forbade black people from living in its borders, the only state to do so. In more recent times, the city repeatedly undertook “urban renewal” projects (such as the construction of Legacy Emanuel Hospital) that decimated the small black community that existed here. And racism persists today. A 2011 audit found that landlords and leasing agents here discriminated against black and Latino renters 64 percent of the time, citing them higher rents or deposits and adding on additional fees. In area schools, African American students are suspended and expelled at a rate four to five times higher than that of their white peers.

All in all, historians and residents say, Oregon has never been particularly welcoming to minorities. Perhaps that’s why there have never been very many. Portland is the whitest big city in America, with a population that is 72.2 percent white and only 6.3 percent African American.

“I think that Portland has, in many ways, perfected neoliberal racism,” Walidah Imarisha, an African American educator and expert on black history in Oregon, told me. Yes, the city is politically progressive, she said, but its government has facilitated the dominance of whites in business, housing, and culture. And white-supremacist sentiment is not uncommon in the state. Imarisha travels around Oregon teaching about black history, and she says neo-Nazis and others spewing sexually explicit comments or death threats frequently protest her events.

A protester at a Portland rally against the reinstatement of a police officer who shot a black man (Rick Bowmer / AP)

Violence is not the only obstacle black people face in Oregon. A 2014 report by Portland State University and the Coalition of Communities of Color, a Portland nonprofit, shows black families lag far behind whites in the Portland region in employment, health outcomes, and high-school graduation rates. They also lag behind black families nationally. While annual incomes for whites nationally and in Multnomah County, where Portland is located, were around $70,000 in 2009, blacks in Multnomah County made just $34,000, compared to $41,000 for blacks nationally. Almost two-thirds of black single mothers in Multnomah County with kids younger than age 5 lived in poverty in 2010, compared to half of black single mothers with kids younger than age 5 nationally. And just 32 percent of African Americans in Multnomah County owned homes in 2010, compared to 60 percent of whites in the county and 45 percent of blacks nationally.

“Oregon has been slow to dismantle overtly racist policies,” the report concluded. As a result, “African Americans in Multnomah County continue to live with the effects of racialized policies, practices, and decision-making.”

Whether this history can be overcome is another matter. Because Oregon, and specifically Portland, its biggest city, are not very diverse, many white people may not even begin to think about, let alone understand, the inequalities. A blog, “Shit White People Say to Black and Brown Folks in PDX,” details how racist Portland residents can be to people of color. “Most of the people who live here in Portland have never had to directly, physically and/or emotionally interact with PoC in their life cycle,” one post begins.

As the city becomes more popular and real-estate prices rise, it is Portland’s tiny African American population that is being displaced to the far-off fringes of the city, leading to even less diversity in the city’s center. There are about 38,000 African Americans in the city in Portland, according to Lisa K. Bates of Portland State University in recent years, 10,000 of those 38,000 have had to move from the center city to its fringes because of rising prices. The gentrification of the historically black neighborhood in central Portland, Albina, has led to conflicts between white Portlanders and longtime black residents over things like widening bicycle lanes and the construction of a new Trader Joe’s. And the spate of alleged incidents at Daimler Trucks is evidence of tensions that are far less subtle.

“Portland’s tactic when it comes to race up until now, has been to ignore it,” says Zev Nicholson, an African American resident who was, until recently, the Organizing Director of the Urban League of Portland. But can it continue to do so?

From its very beginning, Oregon was an inhospitable place for black people. In 1844, the provisional government of the territory passed a law banning slavery, and at the same time required any African American in Oregon to leave the territory. Any black person remaining would be flogged publicly every six months until he left. Five years later, another law was passed that forbade free African Americans from entering into Oregon, according to the Communities of Color report.

In 1857, Oregon adopted a state constitution that banned black people from coming to the state, residing in the state, or holding property in the state. During this time, any white male settler could receive 650 acres of land and another 650 if he was married. This, of course, was land taken from native people who had been living here for centuries.

This early history proves, to Imarisha, that “the founding idea of the state was as a racist white utopia. The idea was to come to Oregon territory and build the perfect white society you dreamed of.” (Matt Novak detailed Oregon’s heritage as a white utopia in this 2015 Gizmodo essay.)

With the passage of the Thirteenth, Fourteenth, and Fifteenth amendments, Oregon’s laws preventing black people from living in the state and owning property were superseded by national law. But Oregon itself didn’t ratify the Fourteenth Amendment—the Equal Protection Clause—until 1973. (Or, more exactly, the state ratified the amendment in 1866, rescinded its ratification in 1868, and then finally ratified it for good in 1973.) It didn’t ratify the Fifteenth Amendment, which gave black people the right to vote, until 1959, making it one of only six states that refused to ratify that amendment when it passed.

The Champoeg meetings organized early government in Oregon. (Joseph Gaston / The Centennial History of Oregon)

This history resulted in a very white state. Technically, after 1868, black people could come to Oregon. But the black-exclusion laws had sent a very clear message nationwide, says Darrell Millner, a professor of black studies at Portland State University. “What those exclusion laws did was broadcast very broadly and loudly was that Oregon wasn’t a place where blacks would be welcome or comfortable,” he told me. By 1890, there were slightly more than 1,000 black people in the whole state of Oregon. By 1920, there were about 2,000.

The rise of the Ku Klux Klan made Oregon even more inhospitable for black people. The state had the highest per-capita Klan membership in the country, according to Imarisha. The democrat Walter M. Pierce was elected to the governorship of the state in 1922 with the vocal support of the Klan, and photos in the local paper show the Portland chief of police, sheriff, district attorney, U.S. attorney, and mayor posing with Klansmen, accompanied by an article saying the men were taking advice from the Klan. Some of the laws passed during that time included literacy tests for anyone who wanted to vote in the state and compulsory public school for Oregonians, a measure targeted at Catholics.

It wasn’t until World War II that a sizable black population moved to Oregon, lured by jobs in the shipyards, Millner said. The black population grew from 2,000 to 20,000 during the war, and the majority of the new residents lived in a place called Vanport, a city of houses nestled between Portland and Vancouver, Washington, constructed for the new residents. Yet after the war, blacks were encouraged to leave Oregon, Millner said, with the Portland mayor commenting in a newspaper article that black people were not welcome. The Housing Authority of Portland mulled dismantling Vanport, and jobs for black people disappeared as white soldiers returned from war and displaced the men and women who had found jobs in the shipyards.

Dismantling Vanport proved unnecessary. In May 1948, the Columbia River flooded, wiping out Vanport in a single day. Residents had been assured that the dikes protecting the housing were safe, and some lost everything in the flood. At least 15 residents died, though some locals formulated a theory that the housing authority had quietly disposed of hundreds more bodies to cover up its slow response. The 18,500 residents of Vanport—6,300 of whom were black—had to find somewhere else to live.

Men wade through the Vanport flood in 1948 (AP photo)

For black residents, the only choice, if they wanted to stay in Portland, was a neighborhood called Albina that had emerged as a popular place to live for the black porters who worked in nearby Union Station. It was the only place black people were allowed to buy homes after, in 1919, the Realty Board of Portland had approved a Code of Ethics forbidding realtors and bankers from selling or giving loans to minorities for properties located in white neighborhoods.

As black people moved into Albina, whites moved out by the end of the 1950s, there were 23,000 fewer white residents and 7,000 more black residents than there had been at the beginning of the decade.

The neighborhood of Albina began to be the center of black life in Portland. But for outsiders, it was something else: a blighted slum in need of repair.

Today, North Williams Avenue, which cuts through the heart of what was once Albina, is emblematic of the “new” Portland. Fancy condos with balconies line the street, next to juice stores and hipster bars with shuffleboard courts. Ed Washington remembers when this was a majority black neighborhood more than a half a century ago, when his parents moved their family to Portland during the war in order to get jobs in the shipyard. He says every house on his street, save one, was owned by black families.

“All these people on the streets, they used to be black people,” he told me, gesturing at a couple with sleeve tattoos, white people pushing baby strollers up the street.

Since the postwar population boom, Albina has been the target of decades of “renewal” and redevelopment plans, like many black neighborhoods across the country.

Imarisha says she is often the only black person in Portland establishments. (Alana Semuels / The Atlantic)

In 1956, voters approved the construction of an arena in the area, which destroyed 476 homes, half of them inhabited by black people, according to “Bleeding Albina: A History of Community Disinvestment, 1940-2000,” a paper by the Portland State scholar Karen J. Gibson. This forced many people to move from what was considered “lower Albina” to “upper Albina.” But upper Albina was soon targeted for development, too, first when the Federal Aid Highway Act of 1956 provided funds for Portland to build Interstate 5 and Highway 99. Then a local hospital expansion was approved, clearing 76 acres, including 300 African American–owned homes and businesses and many shops at the junction of North Williams Avenue and Russell Street, the black “Main Street.”

The urban-renewal efforts made it difficult for black residents to maintain a close-knit community the institutions that they frequented kept getting displaced. In Portland, according to Gibson, a generation of black people had grown up hearing about the “wicked white people who took away their neighborhoods.” In the meantime, displaced African Americans couldn’t acquire new property or land. Redlining, the process of denying loans to people who lived in certain areas, flourished in Portland in the 1970s and 1980s. An investigation by The Oregonian published in 1990 revealed that all the banks in Portland together had made just 10 mortgage loans in a four-census-tract area in the heart of Albina in the course of a year. That was one-tenth the average number of loans in similarly sized census tracts in the rest of the city. The lack of available capital gave way to scams: A predatory lending institution called Dominion Capital, The Oregonian alleged, also “sold” dilapidated homes to buyers in Albina, though the text of the contracts revealed that Dominion actually kept ownership of the properties, and most of the contracts were structured as balloon mortgages that allowed Dominion to evict buyers shortly after they’d moved in. Other lenders simply refused to give loans on properties worth less than $40,000. (The state's attorney general sued Dominion’s owners after The Oregonian's story ran the AP reported that the parties reached a settlement in 1993 in which Dominion’s owners agreed to pay fines and to limit their business activity in the state. The company filed for bankruptcy a few days after the state lawsuit was filed U.S. bankruptcy court handed control of the company to a trustee in 1991.)

The inability of blacks to get mortgages to buy homes in Albina led, once again, to the further decimation of the black community, Gibson argues. Homes were abandoned, and residents couldn’t get mortgages to buy them and fix them up. As more and more houses fell into decay, values plummeted, and those who could left the neighborhood. By the 1980s, the value of homes in Albina reached 58 percent of the city’s median.

“In Portland, there is evidence supporting the notion that housing market actors helped sections of the Albina District reach an advanced stage of decay, making the area ripe for reinvestment,” she writes.

Construction in Portland along the Willamette River (Don Ryan / AP)

By 1988, Albina was a neighborhood known for its housing abandonment, crack-cocaine activity, and gang warfare. Absentee landlordism was rampant, with just 44 percent of homes in the neighborhood owner-occupied.

It was then, when real-estate prices were at rock bottom, that white people moved in and started buying up homes and businesses, kicking off a process that would make Albina one of the more valuable neighborhoods in Portland. The city finally began to invest in Albina then, chasing out absentee landlords and working to redevelop abandoned and foreclosed homes.

Much of Albina’s African American population would not benefit from this process, though. Some could not afford to pay for upkeep and taxes on their homes when values started to rise again others who rented slowly saw prices reach levels they could not afford. Even those who owned started to leave by 1999, blacks owned 36 percent fewer homes than they had a decade earlier, while whites owned 43 percent more.

This gave rise to racial tensions once again. Black residents felt they had been shouting for decades for better city policy in Albina, but it wasn’t until white residents moved in that the city started to pay attention.

“We fought like mad to keep crime out of the area,” Gibson quotes one longtime resident, Charles Ford, as saying. “But the newcomers haven’t given us credit for it …We never envisioned the government would come in and mainly assist whites … I didn’t envision that those young people would come in with what I perceived as an attitude. They didn’t come in [saying] ‘We want to be a part of you.’ They came in with this idea, ‘we’re here and we’re in charge’… It’s like the revitalization of racism.”

Many might think that, as a progressive city known for its hyperconsciousness about its own problems, Portland would be addressing its racial history or at least its current problems with racial inequality and displacement. But Portland only recently became a progressive city, said Millner, the professor, and its past still dominates some parts of government and society.

Until the 1980s, “Portland was firmly in the hands of the status quo—the old, conservative, scratch-my-back, old-boys white network,” he said. The city had a series of police shootings of black men in the 1970s, and in the 1980s, the police department was investigated after officers ran over possums and then put the dead animals in front of black-owned restaurants.

Yet as the city became more progressive and “weird,” full of artists and techies and bikers, it did not have a conversation about its racist past. It still tends not to, even as gentrification and displacement continue in Albina and other neighborhoods.

“If you were living here and you decided you wanted to have a conversation about race, you’d get the shock of your life,” Ed Washington, the longtime Portland resident, told me. “Because people in Oregon just don’t like to talk about it.”

The overt racism of the past has abated, residents say, but it can still be uncomfortable to traverse the city as a minority. Paul Knauls, who is African American, moved to Portland to open a nightclub in the 1960s. He used to face the specter of “whites-only” signs in stores, prohibitions on buying real estate, and once, even a bomb threat in his jazz club because of its black patrons. Now, he says he notices racial tensions when he walks into a restaurant full of white people and it goes silent, or when he tries to visit friends who once lived in Albina and who have now been displaced to “the numbers,” which is what Portlanders call the low-income far-off neighborhoods on the outskirts of town.

“Everything is kind of under the carpet,” he said. “The racism is still very, very subtle.”

Ignoring the issue of race can mean that the legacies of Oregon’s racial history aren’t addressed. Nicholson, of the Urban League of Portland, says that when the black community has tried to organize meetings on racial issues, community members haven’t been able to fit into the room because “60 white environmental activists” have showed up, too, hoping to speak about something marginally related.

Protesters at a ruling about a police shooting in Portland (Rick Bowmer / AP)

If the city talked about race, though, it might acknowledge that it’s mostly minorities who get displaced and would put in place mechanisms for addressing gentrification, Imarisha said. Instead, said Bates, the city celebrated when, in the early 2000s, census data showed it had a decline in black-white segregation. Die rede? Black people in Albina were being displaced to far-off neighborhoods that had traditionally been white.

One incident captures how residents are failing to hear one another or have any sympathy for one another: In 2014, Trader Joe’s was in negotiations to open a new store in Albina. The Portland Development Commission, the city’s urban-renewal agency, offered the company a steep discount on a patch of land to entice them to seal the deal. But the Portland African American Leadership Forum wrote a letter protesting the development, arguing that the Trader Joe’s was the latest attempt to profit from the displacement of African Americans in the city. By spending money incentivizing Trader Joe’s to locate in the area, the city was creating further gentrification without working to help locals stay in the neighborhood, the group argued. Trader Joe’s pulled out of the plan, and people in Portland and across the country scorned the black community for opposing the retailer.

Imarisha, Bates, and others say that during that incident, critics of the African American community failed to take into account the history of Albina, which saw black families and businesses displaced again and again when whites wanted to move in. That history was an important and ignored part of the story. “People are like, ‘Why do you bring up this history? It’s gone, it’s in the past, it’s dead.” Imarisha said. “While the mechanisms may have changed, if the outcome is the same, then actually has anything changed? Obviously that ideology of a racist white utopia is still very much in effect.”

Read Follow-Up Notes

Dit kan moeilik wees om konstruktief oor ras te praat, veral op 'n plek soos Portland, waar inwoners so min blootstelling het aan mense wat anders lyk as hulle. Miskien het Portland, en inderdaad Oregon, ook nie daarin geslaag om die lelike verlede te verstaan ​​nie. Dit is nie die enigste rede vir voorvalle soos die beweerde rassemishandeling by Daimler Trucks nie, of vir die bedreigings wat Imarisha in die gesig staar wanneer sy die staat deurkruis. Maar dit is moontlik deel daarvan.


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