BYRON.

[Illustration]

Easily the most striking thing in the history of the American Negro

since 1876 is the ascendancy of Mr. Booker T. Washington. It began at

the time when war memories and ideals were rapidly passing; a day of

astonishing commercial development was dawning; a sense of doubt and

hesitation overtook the freedmen’s sons,—then it was that his leading

began. Mr. Washington came, with a simple definite programme, at the

psychological moment when the nation was a little ashamed of having

bestowed so much sentiment on Negroes, and was concentrating its

energies on Dollars. His programme of industrial education,

conciliation of the South, and submission and silence as to civil and

political rights, was not wholly original; the Free Negroes from 1830

up to war-time had striven to build industrial schools, and the

American Missionary Association had from the first taught various

trades; and Price and others had sought a way of honorable alliance

with the best of the Southerners. But Mr. Washington first indissolubly

linked these things; he put enthusiasm, unlimited energy, and perfect

faith into his programme, and changed it from a by-path into a

veritable Way of Life. And the tale of the methods by which he did this

is a fascinating study of human life.

It startled the nation to hear a Negro advocating such a programme

after many decades of bitter complaint; it startled and won the

applause of the South, it interested and won the admiration of the

North; and after a confused murmur of protest, it silenced if it did

not convert the Negroes themselves.

To gain the sympathy and cooperation of the various elements comprising

the white South was Mr. Washington’s first task; and this, at the time

Tuskegee was founded, seemed, for a black man, well-nigh impossible.

And yet ten years later it was done in the word spoken at Atlanta: “In

all things purely social we can be as separate as the five fingers, and

yet one as the hand in all things essential to mutual progress.” This

“Atlanta Compromise” is by all odds the most notable thing in Mr.

Washington’s career. The South interpreted it in different ways: the

radicals received it as a complete surrender of the demand for civil

and political equality; the conservatives, as a generously conceived

working basis for mutual understanding. So both approved it, and to-day

its author is certainly the most distinguished Southerner since

Jefferson Davis, and the one with the largest personal following.

Next to this achievement comes Mr. Washington’s work in gaining place

and consideration in the North. Others less shrewd and tactful had

formerly essayed to sit on these two stools and had fallen between

them; but as Mr. Washington knew the heart of the South from birth and

training, so by singular insight he intuitively grasped the spirit of

the age which was dominating the North. And so thoroughly did he learn

the speech and thought of triumphant commercialism, and the ideals of

material prosperity, that the picture of a lone black boy poring over a

French grammar amid the weeds and dirt of a neglected home soon seemed

to him the acme of absurdities. One wonders what Socrates and St.

Francis of Assisi would say to this.

And yet this very singleness of vision and thorough oneness with his

age is a mark of the successful man. It is as though Nature must needs

make men narrow in order to give them force. So Mr. Washington’s cult

has gained unquestioning followers, his work has wonderfully prospered,

his friends are legion, and his enemies are confounded. To-day he

stands as the one recognized spokesman of his ten million fellows, and

one of the most notable figures in a nation of seventy millions. One

hesitates, therefore, to criticise a life which, beginning with so

little, has done so much. And yet the time is come when one may speak

in all sincerity and utter courtesy of the mistakes and shortcomings of

Mr. Washington’s career, as well as of his triumphs, without being

thought captious or envious, and without forgetting that it is easier

to do ill than well in the world.

The criticism that has hitherto met Mr. Washington has not always been

of this broad character. In the South especially has he had to walk

warily to avoid the harshest judgments,—and naturally so, for he is

dealing with the one subject of deepest sensitiveness to that section.

Twice—once when at the Chicago celebration of the Spanish-American War

he alluded to the color-prejudice that is “eating away the vitals of

the South,” and once when he dined with President Roosevelt—has the

resulting Southern criticism been violent enough to threaten seriously

his popularity. In the North the feeling has several times forced

itself into words, that Mr. Washington’s counsels of submission

overlooked certain elements of true manhood, and that his educational

programme was unnecessarily narrow. Usually, however, such criticism

has not found open expression, although, too, the spiritual sons of the

Abolitionists have not been prepared to acknowledge that the schools

founded before Tuskegee, by men of broad ideals and self-sacrificing

spirit, were wholly failures or worthy of ridicule. While, then,

criticism has not failed to follow Mr. Washington, yet the prevailing

public opinion of the land has been but too willing to deliver the

solution of a wearisome problem into his hands, and say, “If that is

all you and your race ask, take it.”

Among his own people, however, Mr. Washington has encountered the

strongest and most lasting opposition, amounting at times to

bitterness, and even today continuing strong and insistent even though

largely silenced in outward expression by the public opinion of the

nation. Some of this opposition is, of course, mere envy; the

disappointment of displaced demagogues and the spite of narrow minds.

But aside from this, there is among educated and thoughtful colored men

in all parts of the land a feeling of deep regret, sorrow, and

apprehension at the wide currency and ascendancy which some of Mr.

Washington’s theories have gained. These same men admire his sincerity

of purpose, and are willing to forgive much to honest endeavor which is

doing something worth the doing. They cooperate with Mr. Washington as

far as they conscientiously can; and, indeed, it is no ordinary tribute

to this man’s tact and power that, steering as he must between so many

diverse interests and opinions, he so largely retains the respect of

all.

But the hushing of the criticism of honest opponents is a dangerous

thing. It leads some of the best of the critics to unfortunate silence

and paralysis of effort, and others to burst into speech so

passionately and intemperately as to lose listeners. Honest and earnest

criticism from those whose interests are most nearly touched,—criticism

of writers by readers,—this is the soul of democracy and the safeguard

of modern society. If the best of the American Negroes receive by outer

pressure a leader whom they had not recognized before, manifestly there

is here a certain palpable gain. Yet there is also irreparable loss,—a

loss of that peculiarly valuable education which a group receives when

by search and criticism it finds and commissions its own leaders. The

way in which this is done is at once the most elementary and the nicest

problem of social growth. History is but the record of such

group-leadership; and yet how infinitely changeful is its type and

character! And of all types and kinds, what can be more instructive

than the leadership of a group within a group?—that curious double

movement where real progress may be negative and actual advance be

relative retrogression. All this is the social student’s inspiration

and despair.

Now in the past the American Negro has had instructive experience in

the choosing of group leaders, founding thus a peculiar dynasty which

in the light of present conditions is worth while studying. When sticks

and stones and beasts form the sole environment of a people, their

attitude is largely one of determined opposition to and conquest of

natural forces. But when to earth and brute is added an environment of

men and ideas, then the attitude of the imprisoned group may take three

main forms,—a feeling of revolt and revenge; an attempt to adjust all

thought and action to the will of the greater group; or, finally, a

determined effort at self-realization and self-development despite

environing opinion. The influence of all of these attitudes at various

times can be traced in the history of the American Negro, and in the

evolution of his successive leaders.

Before 1750, while the fire of African freedom still burned in the

veins of the slaves, there was in all leadership or attempted

leadership but the one motive of revolt and revenge,—typified in the

terrible Maroons, the Danish blacks, and Cato of Stono, and veiling all

the Americas in fear of insurrection. The liberalizing tendencies of

the latter half of the eighteenth century brought, along with kindlier

relations between black and white, thoughts of ultimate adjustment and

assimilation. Such aspiration was especially voiced in the earnest

songs of Phyllis, in the martyrdom of Attucks, the fighting of Salem

and Poor, the intellectual accomplishments of Banneker and Derham, and

the political demands of the Cuffes.

Stern financial and social stress after the war cooled much of the

previous humanitarian ardor. The disappointment and impatience of the

Negroes at the persistence of slavery and serfdom voiced itself in two

movements. The slaves in the South, aroused undoubtedly by vague rumors

of the Haytian revolt, made three fierce attempts at insurrection,—in

1800 under Gabriel in Virginia, in 1822 under Vesey in Carolina, and in

1831 again in Virginia under the terrible Nat Turner. In the Free

States, on the other hand, a new and curious attempt at

self-development was made. In Philadelphia and New York

color-prescription led to a withdrawal of Negro communicants from white

churches and the formation of a peculiar socio-religious institution

among the Negroes known as the African Church,—an organization still

living and controlling in its various branches over a million of men.

Walker’s wild appeal against the trend of the times showed how the

world was changing after the coming of the cotton-gin. By 1830 slavery

seemed hopelessly fastened on the South, and the slaves thoroughly

cowed into submission. The free Negroes of the North, inspired by the

mulatto immigrants from the West Indies, began to change the basis of

their demands; they recognized the slavery of slaves, but insisted that

they themselves were freemen, and sought assimilation and amalgamation

with the nation on the same terms with other men. Thus, Forten and

Purvis of Philadelphia, Shad of Wilmington, Du Bois of New Haven,

Barbadoes of Boston, and others, strove singly and together as men,

they said, not as slaves; as “people of color,” not as “Negroes.” The

trend of the times, however, refused them recognition save in

individual and exceptional cases, considered them as one with all the

despised blacks, and they soon found themselves striving to keep even

the rights they formerly had of voting and working and moving as

freemen. Schemes of migration and colonization arose among them; but

these they refused to entertain, and they eventually turned to the

Abolition movement as a final refuge.

Here, led by Remond, Nell, Wells-Brown, and Douglass, a new period of

self-assertion and self-development dawned. To be sure, ultimate

freedom and assimilation was the ideal before the leaders, but the

assertion of the manhood rights of the Negro by himself was the main

reliance, and John Brown’s raid was the extreme of its logic. After the

war and emancipation, the great form of Frederick Douglass, the

greatest of American Negro leaders, still led the host. Self-assertion,

especially in political lines, was the main programme, and behind

Douglass came Elliot, Bruce, and Langston, and the Reconstruction

politicians, and, less conspicuous but of greater social significance,

Alexander Crummell and Bishop Daniel Payne.

Then came the Revolution of 1876, the suppression of the Negro votes,

the changing and shifting of ideals, and the seeking of new lights in

the great night. Douglass, in his old age, still bravely stood for the

ideals of his early manhood,—ultimate assimilation _through_

self-assertion, and on no other terms. For a time Price arose as a new

leader, destined, it seemed, not to give up, but to re-state the old

ideals in a form less repugnant to the white South. But he passed away

in his prime. Then came the new leader. Nearly all the former ones had

become leaders by the silent suffrage of their fellows, had sought to

lead their own people alone, and were usually, save Douglass, little

known outside their race. But Booker T. Washington arose as essentially

the leader not of one race but of two,—a compromiser between the South,

the North, and the Negro. Naturally the Negroes resented, at first

bitterly, signs of compromise which surrendered their civil and

political rights, even though this was to be exchanged for larger

chances of economic development. The rich and dominating North,

however, was not only weary of the race problem, but was investing

largely in Southern enterprises, and welcomed any method of peaceful

cooperation. Thus, by national opinion, the Negroes began to recognize

Mr. Washington’s leadership; and the voice of criticism was hushed.

Mr. Washington represents in Negro thought the old attitude of

adjustment and submission; but adjustment at such a peculiar time as to

make his programme unique. This is an age of unusual economic

development, and Mr. Washington’s programme naturally takes an economic

cast, becoming a gospel of Work and Money to such an extent as

apparently almost completely to overshadow the higher aims of life.

Moreover, this is an age when the more advanced races are coming in

closer contact with the less developed races, and the race-feeling is

therefore intensified; and Mr. Washington’s programme practically

accepts the alleged inferiority of the Negro races. Again, in our own

land, the reaction from the sentiment of war time has given impetus to

race-prejudice against Negroes, and Mr. Washington withdraws many of

the high demands of Negroes as men and American citizens. In other

periods of intensified prejudice all the Negro’s tendency to

self-assertion has been called forth; at this period a policy of

submission is advocated. In the history of nearly all other races and

peoples the doctrine preached at such crises has been that manly

self-respect is worth more than lands and houses, and that a people who

voluntarily surrender such respect, or cease striving for it, are not

worth civilizing.

In answer to this, it has been claimed that the Negro can survive only

through submission. Mr. Washington distinctly asks that black people

give up, at least for the present, three things,—

First, political power,

Second, insistence on civil rights,

Third, higher education of Negro youth,—and concentrate all their

energies on industrial education, and accumulation of wealth, and the

conciliation of the South. This policy has been courageously and

insistently advocated for over fifteen years, and has been triumphant

for perhaps ten years. As a result of this tender of the palm-branch,

what has been the return? In these years there have occurred:

The Souls of Black Folk · 第 6 / 22 题