The other day I posted an analogy ("An Effective Analogy") by William Blair which tries to draw a connection between the importance of slaveholding for non-slaveholding white southerners with our own attitudes towards home ownership. I have to admit that I was quite impressed with Blair’s analogy before I read this very thoughtful and skeptical response by Hiram Hover. I was so impressed that I decided to post it so that more might be forced to think critically about his challenge to Blair. Here is Hover’s response:
1. The question about homeownership is being asked of kids/young
adults, and not of a range of adult men–who are the ones who
participated in elections that involved questions of slavery and
sectionalism before the Civil War.
2. One reason the difference matters is because of the question of
future expectations. You’re asking this question about homeownership of
relatively privileged high school/college kids in a society where
homeownership is a normal and expected part of the life path for people
like them. Slaveownership was not the normative condition of adult
white men in the antebellum South. The kids of slaveowners might have
wanted and expected to follow in their parents footsteps. But esp. by
the 1850s, rising slave prices made it very hard for those who didn’t
already own slaves to break into the ranks of slaveowners–even if they
wanted to do so. That inability, in turn, could lead to frustration and
resentment that might not make a non-slaveowner into an abolitionist,
but could easily give him reason to cast a suspicious eye on political
ideas and programs designed to defend other men’s ownership of slaves.
(Here, the question isn’t whether non-home owners do or would storm the
tax office to protest the deductibility of interest on home mortgages.
The better analogy is to ask how they’d respond if homeowners proposed
to destroy the federal union after the election of a president who
supported the "ultimate extinction" of the home mortgage interest
3. The homeownership analogy also writes the possibility of moral
and political objections out of the picture. The premise is that of
course these kids want to become homeowners–there may be financial
obstacles to buying a home, or practical reasons it’s not advisable
(don’t buy now because of a housing bubble, or because you might leave
the area in a year or two), but there’s nothing politically or morally
objectionable about homeownership per se–it’s hard in modern America
even to imagine what those objections might be. But of course, that was
hardly the case with slaveownership in antebellum America. I’m not
suggesting that most non-slaveowning white Southerners objected on
moral or political grounds to slavery, but it seems unwise to start off
with a teaching technique that effectively excludes such possibilities
from the start.
My question is whether the analogy can still be salvaged. Any idea?
I just came across a blogsite called The Learned Foot. The site is maintained by Jennifer Goellnitz who is an Ohio-based attorney, runner, and Civil War buff. I browsed her site and found it to be quite entertaining. As I am also a runner I thoroughly enjoyed her reflections on jogging through Civil War battlefields. I once jogged the Antietam battlefield in the middle of the summer — not a smart idea. Brian Dirck (A Lincoln Blog) is also a runner and will no doubt find this site to be of some interest. Jennifer also maintains websites on a few Civil War leaders, including A.P. Hill, Strong Vincent, and Dr. Hunter McGuire. I don’t usually recommend non-.edu websites, but these are filled with relevant material that can be used for research purposes. You will find a link to her site in the right hand column.
It is probably safe to assume that as we approach Memorial Day Weekend we will see an increase in stories purporting to demonstrate the origin of this commemoration. Even as we emphasize our nationalistic zeal our fascination with the old saw of North v. South will be highlighted for our reading pleasure. No doubt the question will be framed in terms of when white Americans gathered to commemorate the first memorial day. Little thought will be given to the possibility that our tendency to see the Civil War as a white man’s war is both too narrow and overly simplistic. I first came across the story of how black Charlestonians commemorated Union soldiers buried in a local race track in David Blight’s Race and Reunion, and I recently came across the story again in the on-line journal Common-place by the same author.
After Charleston, South Carolina was evacuated in February 1865 near the end of the Civil War, most of the people remaining among the ruins of the city were thousands of blacks. During the final eight months of the war, Charleston had been bombarded by Union batteries and gunboats, and much of its magnificent architecture lay in ruin. Also during the final months of war the Confederates had converted the Planters’ Race Course (a horse track) into a prison in which some 257 Union soldiers had died and were thrown into a mass grave behind the grandstand.
In April, more than twenty black carpenters and laborers went to the gravesite, reinterred the bodies in proper graves, built a tall fence around the cemetery enclosure one hundred yards long, and built an archway over an entrance. On the archway they inscribed the words, "Martyrs of the Race Course." And with great organization, on May 1, 1865, the black folk of Charleston, in cooperation with white missionaries, teachers, and Union troops, conducted an extraordinary parade of approximately ten thousand people. It began with three thousand black school children (now enrolled in freedmen’s schools) marching around the Planters’ Race Course with armloads of roses and singing "John Brown’s Body." Then followed the black women of Charleston, and then the men. They were in turn followed by members of Union regiments and various white abolitionists such as James Redpath. The crowd gathered in the graveyard; five black preachers read from Scripture, and a black children’s choir sang "America," "We Rally Around the Flag," the "Star-spangled Banner," and several spirituals. Then the solemn occasion broke up into an afternoon of speeches, picnics, and drilling troops on the infield of the old planters’ horseracing track.
This was the first Memorial Day. Black Charlestonians had given birth to an American tradition. By their labor, their words, their songs, and their solemn parade of roses and lilacs and marching feet on their former masters’ race course, they had created the Independence Day of the Second American Revolution.
To this day hardly anyone in Charleston, or elsewhere, even remembers this story. Quite remarkably, it all but vanished from memory. But in spite of all the other towns in America that claim to be the site of the first Memorial Day (all claiming spring, 1866), African Americans and Charleston deserve pride of place. Why not imagine a new rebirth of the American nation with this scene?
It is easy to see how such an event could be lost during the postwar period as white Americans chose to ignore the theme of emancipation and in its place substituted a narrative that could more easily bring about sectional reunion. The remembrance of such events, however, challenges those who continue to downplay or ignore entirely the role that slavery played in the secession debates and the eventual outcome of the war itself. Regardless of whether we choose to remember these central themes, black Americans clearly did view the war along these lines. And that is not up for debate.
One of the most common retorts to the argument that slavery was central to the Southern way of life is to point out that only 1 in 4 white southerners actually owned slaves. The argument suggests that ownership of slaves was a precondition for any decision that involved secession and even a reason to go off to war. Recent studies of Southern society clearly show that the maintenance of the institution of slavery mattered in more ways than simple ownership. It propped up a hierarchical society based on race and provided a means for advancement within society. After all it took only one slave to be considered a "slave owner." I find it difficult to make these points in class in a way that students identify with. Luckily William Blair offers a wonderful analogy in his essay on slavery and secession which recently appeared in the new edited volume Struggle for a Vast Future.
Imagine asking the question to a room full of primarily 18- through 21-year olds, "How many of you are homeowners?" The predictably few hands that go up might provoke the following question: "Then does that mean you are against homeowning?" The absurdity of the question strikes them almost immediately. They understand that they have grown up in a society based on property owning by individuals, with homeowning as a means of measuring success. Although listed on a census as non-homeowners, most have grown up in domiciles owned by parents and, even if they begin their independent adult lives as renters, wish to find property reflective of their social stations as soon as conditions allow. Those who were raised in apartments admit to the power that homeowning holds on the culture. Furthermore, while renters derive no benefit from the tax code that credits expenditures for interest rates on mortgages, few of them storm the tax office and cry for an end to the advantage, even if they grumble on tax deadline day about the lack of similar breaks for themselves. Similar to our ancestors, we can overlook the contradictions within our society. Many of us can walk by the homeless on the street and believe that a character flaw contributes to their condition, rather than challenge the individualism that undergirds our society or question whether we ought to accept the poverty-stricken as unfortunate, if inevitable casualties of a free-market system.
As Blair points out students can see the possibilities of a future war over the rights of homeowning and property, especially if it is couched in a broader ethical/moral language regarding a way of life. Slavery and homeowning both involve the rights of property ownership which makes this such an effective analogy. Students can reflect on all the ways that homeowning fits into their broader economic and social world view. What would it mean to lose this opportunity as an individual (freedom and self esteem) and a society?
I recently picked up Aaron Sheehan-Dean’s new edited collection Struggle for a Vast Future. It is one of the best edited volumes to appear in some time. There are twelve essays from some of the leading historians in the field. The book is well illustrated which gives it a less scholarly feel. This is one of those unusual books that includes high quality essays that are accessible to a general audience. Contributors include Willam Blair on slavery and the orgin of the war, Bob Krick on battlefield leadership, and Gerald Prokopowicz on Civil War soldiers. Fellow blogger Mark Grimsley contributed a chapter on the evolution of the war. In addition, Michael Vorenberg contributed an essay on emancipation, Jeffrey Prushankin on the war in the West, and Victoria Bynum on the home front. Aaron Sheehan-Dean tops all of this off with an analysis of how the Civil War has been remembered and portrayed in popular culture. Every aspect of the war is covered in this volume. As I’ve argued over and over on this blog, we don’t really understand the importance of the Civil War if we fail to take both a broad and focused view.
Over the past few years I’ve used America’s Civil War (Harlan Davidson, 1996) by Brooks Simpson as my basic narrative of the war. This year I plan to add Sheehan-Dean’s book to their reading list. I think my students will enjoy reading it.