If we listen vainly for the heart-throb of the race problem in the
Negro's laziness, and criminality, and brutality, and ignorance, and
inefficiency, do we detect it with clearness and certainty in the
personal aversion felt by the white people for the black people,
aversion which the white people can no more help feeling than the black
people can help exciting? Is this the real trouble, the real burden, the
real tragedy and sorrow of our white population in those sections of the
country where the Negroes are many,--that they are compelled to dwell
face to face, day by day, with an inferior, degraded population,
repulsive to their finer sensibilities, obnoxious to them in countless
ways inexplicable? Facts are far from furnishing an affirmative answer.
However pronounced may be the feeling of personal aversion toward the
Negroes in Northern communities, where they are few, or known at long
range, or casually, there is no such thing in Southern communities as
personal aversion for the Negro pronounced enough to be responsible for
anything resembling a problem. How could there be in the South, where
from infancy we have all been as familiar with black faces as with
white; where many of us fell asleep in the laps of black mammies, and
had for playmates Ephrom, Izik, Zeke, black mammy's grandchildren; where
most of us have had our meals prepared by black cooks, and been waited
on by black house-servants and dining-room servants, and ridden in
carriages and buggies with black hostlers? We are so used to the black
people in the South, their mere personal presence is so far from being
responsible for our race problem, that the South would not seem Southern
without them, as it would not without its crape myrtles, and live-oaks,
and magnolias, its cotton and its sugar-cane!
It is very easy to go astray in regard to the matter of personal
aversion toward the members of alien races, to magnify greatly the
reality and importance of it. What seems race-aversion is frequently
something else, namely, revulsion aroused by the presence of the
strange, the unusual, the uncanny, the not-understood. Such revulsion is
aroused, not only by the members of alien races, alien and unfamiliar,
but as certainly by strange animals of not more terrifying appearance
than the well-loved cow and horse; and it would be aroused as really
and as painfully, doubtless, by the sudden proximity of one of Milton's
archangels. It was not necessarily race-aversion which made Emerson,
and may have made many another Concord philosopher, uncomfortable in the
presence of a Negro, any more than it is race-aversion which makes the
Fifth Avenue boy run from the gentle farmyard cow; any more than it is
race-aversion which would make me uncomfortable in the presence of Li
Hung Chang. The Negro, simply, it may be, was a mystery to Emerson, as
the farmyard cow is a mystery to the Fifth Avenue boy, as the Chinaman
is a mystery to me.
The Negro is NOT a mystery to people whom he has nursed and waited on,
whose language he has spoken, whose ways, good and bad, he has copied
for generations; and his personal presence does not render them
uncomfortable, not, at any rate, uncomfortable enough to beget the sense
of a burden or a problem.
It may be very difficult for Northern readers, to whom the Negro is in
reality a stranger, a foreigner, to appreciate fully the force of what
has just been said; but appreciated by them it must be, or they can
never hope to realize the innermost meaning of the race problem in the
South.
So much for what the race problem is not. Let me without further delay
state what it is. The foundation of it, true or false, is the white
man's conviction that the Negro as a race, and as an individual, is his
inferior: not human in the sense that he is human, not entitled to
the exercise of human rights in the sense that he is entitled to the
exercise of them. The problem itself, the essence of it, the heart
of it, is the white man's determination to make good this conviction,
coupled with constant anxiety lest, by some means, he should fail to
make it good. The race problem, in other words, is NOT that the Negro is
what he is in relation to the white man, the white man's inferior; but
this, rather: How to keep him what he is in relation to the white man;
how to prevent his ever achieving or becoming that which would justify
the belief on his part, or on the part of other people, that he and the
white man stand on common human ground.
That such is the heart of the problem should be made evident by this
general consideration alone: namely, that everywhere in the South
friction between the races is entirely absent so long as the Negro
justifies the white man's opinion of him as an inferior; is grateful for
privileges and lays no claim to RIGHTS. Let him seem content to be as
the South insists he shall be, and not only is he not harshly treated,
not abused, and never boycotted, but he is shown much kindness and
generosity, and employment awaits him for the asking. Trouble brews when
he begins to manifest those qualities, to reveal those tastes, to
give vent to those ambitions, which are supposed to be characteristic
exclusively of the higher human type, and which, unless restrained,
would result in confounding the lower with the higher. The expression
"Good Nigger" means everywhere in the South a real Negro, from the
Southern standpoint, one who in no respect gets out of focus with that
standpoint; the expression "Bad Nigger" means universally one who in
some respect, not necessarily criminal, does get out of focus with it.
So, stated differently, the race problem is the problem how to keep the
Negro in focus with the traditional standpoint.
But we are very far from needing to rely upon any general consideration
in support of the proposition advanced above. It is supported by
evidences on every hand, waiting only the eye of recognition. Scarcely
a day passes but something is said or done with this end in view, to
emphasize, lest they forget, the conviction for both white man and Negro
that the latter is and must remain an inferior. Let me instance a few
such evidences.
Consider, first, the "Jim Crow" legislation in the manner of its
enforcement. Such legislation is supposed to have for its object the
separation of the races in trains, street-cars, etc., to save the
white people from occasional contact with drunken, rowdy, ill-smelling
Negroes, and to prevent personal encounters between the whites and
blacks. How is this object attained in the street cars of Southern
cities? Members of the different races occupy the same cars, separated
only by absurdly inadequate little open-mesh wire screens, so tiny and
light that a conductor can move them from one seat to another with the
strength of his little finger. Needless to add, these screens would
serve to obscure neither sound, sight, nor smell of drunken rowdies
who sat behind them! In summer cars black and white passengers may be
separated not even by a make-believe screen; they are simply required,
respectively, to occupy certain seats in the front or the back end of
the cars.
In Birmingham, Alabama, the front seats are assigned to Negroes in all
closed cars, and the back seats in all open ones. Why the front seats
in the one case, and the back seats in the other, it is not easy to
understand in the light of the letter and alleged spirit of the Jim Crow
law! The underlying purpose of the law is clearly not the separation
of the races in space; for public sentiment does not insist upon its
fulfillment to that end. The underlying purpose of it would seem to be
the separation of the races in status. The doctrine of inequality would
be attacked if white and black passengers rode in public conveyances on
equal terms; therefore the Negro who rides in a public conveyance
must do so, not as of undoubted right, but as with the white man's
permission, subject to the white man's regulation. "This place you may
occupy, that other you may not, because I am I and you are you, lest to
you or me it should be obscured that I am I and you are you." Such is
the real spirit of the Jim Crow laws.
Why is it that in every Southern city no Negro is allowed to witness a
dramatic performance, or a baseball game, from a first-class seat? In
every large city, there are hundreds of Negroes who would gladly pay
for first-class seats at the theatre and the baseball game, were they
permitted to. It can hardly be that permission is withheld because
theatres and baseball games are so well attended by half the population
that first-class seats could not be furnished for the other half. As a
matter of fact, theatre-auditoriums and baseball grand-stands are seldom
crowded; the rule is, not all first-class seats occupied, but many
vacant. Surely as simple as moving from seat to seat a make-shift screen
in a street-car, would it be to set apart a certain number of seats
in the dress-circle of every theatre, and in the grand-stand of every
baseball park, for Negro patrons. The reason why this is not done is
perfectly obvious: it would be intolerable to the average Southern
man or woman to sit through the hours of a theatrical performance or a
baseball game on terms of equal accommodation with Negroes, even with a
screen between. Negroes would look out of place, out of status, in the
dress circle or the grand-stand; their place, signifying their status,
is the peanut-gallery, or the bleachers. There, neither they nor others
will be tempted to forget that as things are they must continue.
How shall we account for the "intense feeling" (to quote the language
of the mayor or New Orleans) occasioned in that city one day, last July,
when it was flashed over the wires that the first prize in the National
Spelling Contest had been won by a Negro girl, in competition with white
children from New Orleans and other Southern cities? The indignation of
at least one of the leading New Orleans papers verged upon hysterics;
the editor's rhetoric visited upon some foulest crime could hardly
have been more inflamed than in denunciation of the fact that, on the
far-away shore of Lake Erie, New Orleans white children had competed at
a spelling bee with a Negro girl. The superintendent of the New Orleans
schools was roundly denounced in many quarters for permitting his wards
to compete with a Negro; and there were broad hints in "Letters from the
People" to the papers that his resignation was in order.
Certainly in the days following the National Spelling Contest the race
problem was in evidence, if it ever was, in New Orleans and the South!
Did it show itself, then, as the problem of Negro crime, or brutality,
or laziness? Assuredly not! Of the Negro's personal repulsiveness? By
no means! There was no evidence of Negro criminality, or brutality, or
laziness in the Negro child's victory; and every day in the South,
in their games and otherwise, hundreds of white children of the best
families are in closer personal contact with little Negroes than were
the white children who took part in the Cleveland spelling bee. The
"intense feeling" can be explained on one ground only: the Negro girl's
victory was an affront to the tradition of the Negro's inferiority;
it suggested--perhaps indicated--that, given equal opportunities, all
Negroes are not necessarily the intellectual inferiors of all white
people. What other explanation is rationally conceivable? If the race
problem means in the South to its white inhabitants the burden and
tragedy of having to dwell face to face with an intellectually and
morally backward people, why should not the Negro girl's triumph have
occasioned intense feeling of pleasure, rather than displeasure, by its
suggestion that her race is not intellectually hopeless?
Consider further that while no Negro, no matter what his occupation,
or personal refinement, or intellectual culture, or moral character, is
allowed to travel in a Pullman car between state lines, or to enter as
a guest a hotel patronized by white people, the blackest of Negro nurses
and valets are given food and shelter in all first-class hotels, and
occasion neither disgust, nor surprise in the Pullman cars. Here again
the heart of the race problem is laid bare. The black nurse with a white
baby in her arms, the black valet looking after the comfort of a white
invalid, have the label of their inferiority conspicuously upon them;
they understand themselves, and everybody understands them, to be
servants, enjoying certain privileges for the sake of the person served.
Almost anything, the Negro may do in the South, and anywhere he may go,
provided the manner of his doing and his doing is that of an inferior.
Such is the premium put upon his inferiority; such his inducement to
maintain it.
The point here insisted on may be made clearer, if already it is not
clear enough, by this consideration, that the man who would lose social
caste for dining with an Irish street-sweeper might be congratulated for
dining with an Irish educator; but President Roosevelt would scarcely
have given greater offense by entertaining a Negro laborer at the White
House than he gave by inviting to lunch there the Principal of Tuskegee
Institute. The race problem being what it is, the status of any Negro is
logically the status of every other. There are recognizable degrees
of inferiority among Negroes themselves; some are vastly superior to
others. But there is only one degree of inferiority separating the Negro
from the white person, attached to all Negroes alike. The logic of the
situation requires that to be any sort of black man is to be inferior to
any sort of white man; and from this logic there is no departure in the
South.
Inconsistent, perhaps, with what has been said may seem the defeat
in the Louisiana Legislature (1908) of the anti-miscegenation bill, a
measure designed to prohibit sexual cohabitation between white persons
and Negroes; to be specific, between white men and Negro women. But
there was no inconsistency whatever in the defeat of that bill. In all
times and places, the status of that portion of the female population,
Lecky's martyred "priestesses of humanity," whose existence men have
demanded for the gratification of unlawful passion, has been that of
social outcasts. They have no rights that they can insist upon; they
are simply privileged to exist by society's permission, and may be
any moment legislated out of their vocation. Hence the defeat of an
anti-miscegenation measure by Southern legislators cannot be
construed as a failure on their part to live up to their conviction
of race-superiority. It must be construed, rather, as legislative
unwillingness to restrict the white man's liberty; to dictate by statute
the kind of social outcast which he may use as a mere means to the
gratification of his passion. To concede to Negro women the status of
a degraded and proscribed class, is not in any sense to overlook or
obscure their racial inferiority, but on the contrary, it may be, to
emphasize it. Precisely the same principle, in a word, compasses the
defeat of an anti-miscegenation bill which would compass the defeat of a
measure to prohibit Negro servants from occupying seats in Pullman cars.
At the risk of reiteration, I must in concluding this article take sharp
issue with the view of a recent very able writer, who asks the question,
"What, essentially, is the Race Problem?" and answers it thus: "The race
problem is the problem of living with human beings who are not like us,
whether they are in our estimation our 'superiors' or inferiors,
whether they have kinky hair or pigtails, whether they are slant-eyed,
hook-nosed, or thick-lipped. In its essence, it is the same problem,
magnified, which besets every neighborhood, even every family."
I have contended so far, and I here repeat, that the race problem is
essentially NOT what this writer declares it to be. It is emphatically
not, in the South, "the problem of living with human beings who are not
like us, whether they are in our estimation our superiors or inferiors."
It may be, it probably is, that in the North, where the Negro is largely
a stranger, a foreigner, very much to the same degree that the Chinese
are strangers and foreigners in the South; and where, consequently, the
Negro's personal repulsiveness is a much more significant force than
it is in the South. Assuredly there would be no race problem, anywhere,
were there no contact with others unlike ourselves! The unlikeness
of the unlike is everywhere its indispensable foundation. But we get
nowhither unless we carefully distinguish between the foundation of the
problem and the problem itself. There is nothing in the unlikeness of
the unlike that is necessarily problematical; it may be simply accepted
and dealt with as a fact, like any other fact. The problem arises only
when the people of one race are minded to adopt and act upon some policy
more or less oppressive or repressive in dealing with the people of
another race. In the absence of some such policy, there has never been a
race problem since the world began. It is the existence of such a
policy become traditional, and supported by immovable conviction, which
constitutes the race problem of the Southern states.
There was an immensely tragic race problem distressing the South fifty
years ago; but who will suggest that it was the problem of "living with
human beings who are not like us?" The problem then was, clearly, how to
make good a certain conviction concerning the unlike, how to maintain a
certain policy in dealing with them. What else is it today? The problem,
How to maintain the institution of chattel slavery, ceased to be at
Appomattox; the problem, How to maintain the social, industrial, and
civic inferiority of the descendants of chattel slaves, succeeded it,
and is the race problem of the South at the present time. There is no
other.
Whether the policy adopted by the white South, and supported, as I have
said, by immovable conviction, is expedient or inexpedient, wise or
unwise, righteous or unrighteous, these are questions which I have not
sought to answer one way or another in this article. Perhaps they cannot
be answered at all in our time. Certain is it, that their only real and
satisfactory answer will be many years ahead of the present generation.
In the mean time, nothing could be more unwarranted, than to suppose
that the race problem of one section of this country is peculiar to
that section, because its white inhabitants are themselves in some
sense peculiar; because they are peculiarly prejudiced, because they
are peculiarly behind the hour which the high clock of civilization has
struck. Remove the white inhabitants of the South, give their place to
the white people of any other section of the United States, and, beyond
a peradventure, the Southern race problem, as I have defined it, would
continue to be--revealed, perhaps, in ways more perplexing, more intense
and tragic.