To me there is a frightening arrogance in this performance.

Because I believe this book to be of exceptional importance, I urge it

upon your immediate attention. It is sent to you with the compliments

of the North-South Council, James E. Simpson, Chairman, P. O. Box 5554,

Friendship Station, Washington 16, D. C., out of funds contributed by

people in both the North and the South.

Harry F. Byrd,

United States Senator

Race and Reason

A YANKEE VIEW

By Carleton Putnam

+Public Affairs Press, Washington, D. C.+

Copyright, 1961, by Public Affairs Press

419 New Jersey Avenue, S.E., Washington 3, D. C.

Printed in the United States of America

Library of Congress Catalog Card No. 61-8447

FOREWORD

This book is a signal contribution to an understanding of the race

controversy. No other writer, in my opinion, has yet combined so

forceful an analysis of the viewpoints of both North and South with so

clear a grasp of the reasons behind each.

Carleton Putnam strikes at the root of the matter. He thoroughly

explores the ideology which led to the Supreme Court’s decision in

the desegregation cases and traces it to its source. In the process

he puts race against the background of fundamental American ideals

with arresting results. He presents documented facts, and discloses a

situation, which I believe should be brought to the immediate attention

of the American people. _Race and Reason_ may well become a text for

the unorganized majority in their battle against the social concepts of

our minority groups.

If there be an argument in favor of integration which is not plainly

set out in this volume, and as plainly examined, I have not heard it.

The writing is incisive and can be read by the layman at one sitting

with pleasure as well as profit. The author has thought through many

issues, and has combined his thinking with careful research. He gives

his results in telling sentences, crisp and spare. In these pages, any

legislator, judge, lawyer, minister or college debater can have at his

finger tips, conveniently indexed, a succinct reply to every sophistry

advanced by the propagandist. To those who recognize that the salvation

of the South lies in the education of public opinion rather than in

rear-guard court actions, and that our national leaders must be told

the scientific as well as the political facts of race, this book will

be indispensable.

My personal enthusiasm has been increased by knowing Putnam himself.

He is a dyed-in-the-wool Northerner, a New Englander collaterally

descended from both Israel Putnam, George Washington’s first

major-general, and Rufus Putnam, founder of the Ohio Colony. Putnam is

a Yankee in the true sense of the word. He speaks with detachment and

from what I may term the native American outlook. Few men are better

qualified by inheritance and training to recall us to the principles on

which our republic rests.

In his own career Putnam has been singularly successful both as a

practical man of affairs and as a scholar. Graduating with a science

degree and with honors in history and politics from Princeton, and

with a law degree from Columbia, he was for fifteen years president

of Chicago and Southern Air Lines and later chairman of the board of

Delta Air Lines. He finally retired, in his early fifties, to write

biography, and has already distinguished himself in this field. My

fellow journalist, Virginius Dabney, aptly described the situation

when he said editorially that the first volume of Putnam’s _Theodore

Roosevelt_ “had the critics turning handsprings”.

Putnam writes from a knowledge of history, science and law. He writes

from nation-wide experience in business, and from long residence in

North and South. He knows America, its past and its present. I consider

his message imperative reading for its own sake, and doubly valuable

because of the man who speaks.

I would like finally to comment upon the panel of scientists who have

signed the Introduction which follows this Foreword. Their tribute is,

I believe, unique. I know of no other case where a social study of

this kind has had such combined support from the fields of genetics,

psychology, anthropology, zoology and anatomy.

The panel is headed by R. Ruggles Gates, generally acknowledged to be

one of the world’s leading human geneticists. Born a Canadian, Dr.

Gates received his M.A. from Mt. Allison, his B.Sc. from McGill, his

Ph.D. from Chicago and his D.Sc. from the University of London. He has

been a Fellow of the Royal Society since 1931.

His active career began as a Lecturer in Biology at St. Thomas’s

Hospital in London, continued as Associate Professor of Zoology at

the University of California, then as Professor of Botany at King’s

College, University of London, and as Honorary Research Fellow in

Biology at Harvard. For the last eight years he has been engaged

in world travel for the study of Races and Race Crossings. His

publications include _The Mutation Factor in Human Evolution_ (1915),

_Human Genetics_, 2 Vols. (1946), _Human Ancestry_ (1948), and

_Pedigrees of Negro Families_ (1949).

From the field of psychology we find Henry E. Garrett, Professor

Emeritus, Columbia University. For fifteen years Dr. Garrett headed

the Department of Psychology at Columbia. He has been President of

the Eastern Psychological Association and the American Psychological

Association. In addition he has served as Vice Chairman of the

Division of Psychology and Anthropology of the National Research

Council. He is general editor of the American Psychological Series,

and is the author of _Statistics in Psychology and Education_; _Great

Experiments in Psychology_; _Psychological Tests, Methods and Results_;

_Psychology_; _General Psychology_; and _Testing_.

Robert Gayre is a Scot. Presently Editor of the _Mankind Quarterly_,

he was formerly Professor of Anthropology and head of the postgraduate

Department of Anthropo-Geography, University of Saugor, India. He is

the author of _Teuton and Slav_ (1944) and of _Ethnology_, 3 Vols.

(soon to be published). He was Director of Education in the Allied

Control Commission for Italy after World War II.

Wesley C. George began his career as Instructor in Zoology at the

University of North Carolina, served variously as Professor of Biology

at Guilford College, Adjunct Professor of Zoology at the University

of Georgia, and Associate Professor of Histology and Embryology at

the University of Tennessee Medical School. He has been Professor of

Anatomy at the University of North Carolina since 1924 and was for

ten years head of the department there. He is the author of numerous

articles on the development of man and other vertebrates, comparative

hematology and the philosophy of science.

There can be no doubt that the endorsement of these men, taken together

with the evidence of other scientists called as witnesses by the author

in his text, guarantee the scientific integrity of _Race and Reason_

and confirm the soundness of its premises.

+T. R. Waring+

Editor, Charleston _News and Courier_

INTRODUCTION

Biological scientists seldom find themselves writing an introduction to

what is essentially a study of a social problem. However, the problem

in this instance is of such great importance from both the scientific

and social standpoints, and the two are so closely interrelated, that

we cannot dissociate ourselves from the task.

Our professional interest lies in the scientific foundations on which

Mr. Putnam rests his thesis. We are in complete accord with what he

has to say concerning these foundations. We agree with his balanced

presentation of genetic and environmental factors in the area of

both racial and individual biology. We believe they deserve this

sharp reappraisal in the light of current problems in the world at

large. We can also confirm Putnam’s estimate of the extent to which

non-scientific, ideological pressures have harassed scientists in the

last thirty years, often resulting in the suppression or distortion of

truth.

The intrusion of political thought into the social and anthropological

sciences which has occurred on a massive scale during this period, has

been a very great disservice to scientific investigation and to the

guidance which scientific work and its conclusions ought to be able to

render to human society. Man must be guided by science, but scientific

thought must not be moulded to preconceived political ideas.

We, as signatories to this introduction, although we may differ over

some aspects of genetic, biological, anthropological and sociological

theory, believe that statesmen and judges today frequently take

positions based upon an inadequate knowledge of the facts so far as

they relate to the nature of man. Therefore, we have no hesitation in

placing on record our disapproval of what has been all too commonly a

trend since 1930. We do not believe that there is anything to be drawn

from the sciences in which we work which supports the view that all

races of men, all types of men, or all ethnic groups are equal and

alike, or likely to become equal or alike, in anything approaching the

foreseeable future. We believe on the contrary that there are vast

areas of difference within mankind not only in physical appearance, but

in such matters as adaptability to varying environments, and in deep

psychological and emotional qualities, as well as in mental ability and

capacity for development. We are of the opinion that in ignoring these

depths of difference modern man and his political representatives are

likely to find themselves in serious difficulties sooner or later.

Whatever may be said for or against minor or detailed points made by

the author of this book, we feel that it deserves the serious attention

of both scientists and public men wherever racial problems exist. The

facts in it cannot much longer be ignored. It probes to the core of an

abscess, yet does so with a healing touch. There is logic and common

sense in these pages; there is also inescapable scientific validity.

+R. Ruggles Gates+,

M.A., Ph.D., D.Sc., LL.D., F.R.S.

+Henry E. Garrett+,

Ph.D., D.Sc.

+R. Gayre of Gayre+,

M.A., D.Phil., D.Pol.Sc., D.Sc.

+Wesley C. George+,

M.A., Ph.D.

CONTENTS

I

+A Frame of Mind+ 1

II

+The Hidden Issue+ 15

III

+Point by Point+ 34

Anthropology and Intermarriage 35

American Democracy 60

Christian Ethics 67

Sociology and Communism 71

The Constitutional Issue 97

Summation and Outlook 101

IV

+Conclusion+ 114

+Index+ 119

+Chapter I+

A FRAME OF MIND

When the Supreme Court reached its desegregation decision in 1954, not

all of us stopped to think about its implications. There were many, of

course, who were joyful. The Negro population and those white minority

organizations which had played so large a part in pressing the case

were elated. So were those good people who dream in general terms of

pleasing everybody without counting the cost. But the majority of

Americans, at least in the North, were preoccupied with other matters.

They were surprised, perhaps a little startled, but quite willing to

leave such a subject to the courts.

I confess that I was in the latter category. In those days, I was

board chairman of a major airline, and such spare time as I had was

occupied in beginning a four volume biography of Theodore Roosevelt.

On the one hand, I was involved in a life of action; on the other, I

was committed to the life of the mind, steeped in the moods of the

nineteenth century, far removed from either action or the social trends

of the mid-twentieth century. I cannot blame myself for not realizing

immediately the meaning of the desegregation cases. Had I been resident

in the South, it might have struck me sooner. But I was living in the

national capital.

I speak of these things because the reaction, when it came, could not

be unrelated to the personal equation. I believe that in 1954 I could

lay claim to the viewpoint of an average American, a viewpoint in

my case essentially Northern but modified by long experience in the

South. In my early airline days I had spent seven years in Memphis,

Tennessee, and had travelled extensively throughout all the Southern

states, dealing with local governments, business groups and individuals

in the most practical of activities. Twenty years before I had begun my

airline career along the California coast by starting a service between

Los Angeles and San Francisco. At a still earlier period I had gone to

school for two years in Arizona, and I had spent many summer vacations

in the northern Rockies.

In fact, to the American West I owed a large part of my life’s

motivation. From pack-trips across the Painted Desert in my college

days, to camps in the Bad Lands of North Dakota where I began research

on my biography of Roosevelt, I had known and loved the stage on which

the pioneer played out the drama of the American Dream. It was not just

a question of the sun setting beyond the Pass, nor the sound at night

of wind rising in the forests of the Big Horn Mountains. These were

important as symbols to the senses, but there were other scenes in the

montage of memory--episodes involving people, from old prospectors and

cowpunchers to women who had come to Arizona in covered wagons over

the Santa Fe Trail--these were symbols of a different sort, figures of

pride and self-reliance, and primordially American.

In a spiritual sense, of course, the Santa Fe Trail and the Oregon

Trail had begun at Jamestown and Plymouth Rock, and had left me what I

regarded as a personal heritage. My first American ancestors, on both

my father’s and my mother’s side, had arrived in Massachusetts from

England in the fourth decade of the seventeenth century. From Salem, to

northern Vermont, to Saratoga and the Mohawk Valley, my father’s people

migrated to the West of their day and bequeathed me a proprietary

interest in a sunset and a frame of mind. Call it individualism, say

it was rugged, nonetheless it was American in its time. There were

certain traditions that were taken for granted, yet which passed by

osmosis from father to son. A man expected the community to do for him

only what there was no way of his doing for himself. When he asked

the community to do what he ought to have done for himself, this was

begging; it was begging because it meant another’s effort was making up

his lack--and beggars were not popular on the frontier.

Nor was there a notion of equality in any sense except the equal

chance. The frontier had its aristocracy of character to which one

earned the right to belong. And the man with the bad reputation was

not easily or quickly forgiven. I realize that today the frontier is

history and that social conditions have changed. I do not see that the

principles have changed.

Of my two grandfathers, one was a justice of the New York Supreme

Court, another was a New York publisher who had the doubtful

distinction of rejecting Mark Twain’s first book. My father, who died

young, was more adventurous. Having been cited for gallantry in action

during the Philippine Insurrection, he remained in Manila to start the

first American newspaper published in the Islands. There was something

vitally American, in a turn-of-the-century sense, about my father--a

certain gallantry, a gay initiative, a confidence in the strength of

being right, and a willingness to take risks in its service. Once or

twice he spoke with a twinkle of the close call I had had in getting

into the world. Two years before I was born, he had come back to camp

one evening from a skirmish at Tabuan and had found his undershirt cut

across by a bullet.

Father was less fortunate in 1918. He died in the Argonne, and I went

on to Princeton in 1920. I took a science degree, but majored in

history and politics, because I wanted an education that would give

me a perspective on the river of time, and I hoped a combination of

science and history would provide it. So I began with astronomy, the

story of the universe; went on to geology, the story of the earth;

and finally to history, the story of man, elaborating the details

through physics, chemistry and biology and flavoring the whole with

some philosophy and considerable English literature. Perhaps it was a

jack-of-all-trades education, but I cannot say I have regretted it. If

I was vague about some of the trees, I believe I saw the outline of the

woods.

Then came three arduous years which ended in a law degree at Columbia.

From the law I acquired a wholesome regard for precedent. It is a

lesson that can be learned from history, or from science, or, over a

long life, from personal observation. But the law, I think, teaches it

best. For a thousand years our Anglo-American common law has been based

upon the evolution of man’s experience in particular cases. Experience

has produced the theory, rather than theory coloring the experience.

In leafing through a book I wrote some twelve years later, I find the

following record of my reaction to Columbia: “The American ardor for

the new is one of the great hopes of the human race, but a respect

for the experience of the past can, I think, contribute more to its

fulfillment than the average American appreciates. For me, three years

of saturation in the law did something to offset a very inadequate

education in the classics, for it made real to me the substance of the

soil out of which the present and the future grow.”

Another fifteen years have passed since I wrote the preceding

sentences, but I would now only re-emphasize, in an age obsessed with

novelty and change, the importance of our Anglo-American heritage,

particularly in the field of moral values and basic principle. There

are very few social experiments that have not been tried before, and

there are absolutely no principles that have not been thoroughly

tested. “Winds of change” do not alter these.

If I were asked to be specific, I would say that as time has gone on,

I have been impressed with two fallacies that have crept into the

thinking of Americans: the fallacy that men by weight of numbers can

defy the moral law and lean increasingly upon other men under the guise

of the State, and the fallacy that this dependence is justified by the

supposed right of all men to share equally in everything. I shall have

more to say on this subject later. My purpose here is to suggest the

roots from which my views have grown.

It may seem strange, in the light of such views, that in June of 1954,

when the Supreme Court’s desegregation decision burst upon the country,

I did not react at once. Surely, here was a sharp departure from the

past--a confusion of equality of opportunity and equality before the

law, with social and cultural equality--as well as a clear challenge to

other American principles. My only answer, as I have said, must be that

I was absorbed in other matters, an answer I believe I shared with many

“average” Northerners. It took four years, in my case, before a chance

incident brought the whole situation home.

I was thumbing through _Life_ magazine for September 22, 1958, when

I came upon an article by Virginius Dabney, editor of the Richmond

_Times-Dispatch_. The article appeared to be a part of a debate which

_Life_ had arranged between Northern and Southern writers on the

school integration controversy. It stated the Southern viewpoint most

ably, I thought, but what really aroused me was something else in the

same magazine. It was an editorial purporting to answer Dabney--an

editorial wholly lacking in perception and full of inept analogies and

abandoned principles. I was not by habit addicted to writing letters to

the press, but in this case I could think of no better way to relieve

my feelings. So I composed a letter of protest to _Life_ and sent a

copy to the newspaper editor I knew best. In my airline years I had

shared some press flights with Frank Ahlgren, manager of the Memphis

_Commercial Appeal_, and he might be sympathetic. A few days later,

_Life_ answered with a polite acknowledgment, Ahlgren with an envelope

enclosing a page of his latest edition. On it my letter appeared in

full. It was a contrast that would grow sharper.

Then other things began to happen. Notes started to come in from old

Memphis friends and from strangers. It was a comfort, they said, that

at least one Northerner understood. Next, Dabney himself telephoned

from Richmond. He had seen my letter in the _Commercial Appeal_ and he

asked if he might reprint it in his _Times-Dispatch_.

I hesitated for a moment because by that time I had had a chance to

think further about the subject. There were several additional points

I wanted to make. Moreover, there was one man who could do more to

correct the situation than any other, if he would, and that man was

the President of the United States. Perhaps, in the maelstrom of other

problems and activities, he had overlooked the real significance of

the desegregation cases. Perhaps, if others as well as I wrote him, he

might be led to see the reasonableness behind the Southern position.

Then from the pulpit of the Presidency he might enlighten the nation.

I began to wonder whether the best contribution I could make might not

be to try to reach him with a new letter, more complete than the one to

_Life_. Meanwhile, as far as Dabney was concerned, it might be wiser

for him to wait and see whether he preferred to publish the letter to

the President.

Dabney agreed and I set to work, helped by an opinion of Justice

Frankfurter in a case growing out of the Little Rock episode.

Frankfurter’s views, printed in the Washington _Post_, had spoiled my

breakfast a morning or two before, but now they gave me a starting

point. On October 13, 1958--I remember the occasion well because it was

the climax of weeks of deliberation--I wrote as follows to President

Eisenhower:

A few days ago I was reading over Justice Frankfurter’s opinion in

the recent Little Rock case. Three sentences in it tempt me to write

you this letter. I am a Northerner, but I have spent a large part of

my life as a business executive in the South. I have a law degree,

but I am now engaged in historical writing. From this observation

post I risk the presumption of a comment.

The sentences I wish to examine are these: “Local customs, however

hardened by time, are not decreed in heaven. Habits and feelings they

engender may be counteracted and moderated. Experience attests that

such local habits and feelings will yield, gradually though this be,

to law and education.”

It is my personal conviction that the local customs in this case

were “hardened by time” for a very good reason, and that while they

may not, as Frankfurter says, have been decreed in heaven, they

come closer to it than the current view of the Supreme Court. I was

particularly puzzled by Frankfurter’s remark that “the Constitution

is not the formulation of the merely personal views of the members of

this court.” Five minutes before the court’s desegregation decision,

the Constitution meant one thing; five minutes later, it meant

something else. Only one thing intervened, namely, an expression of

the personal views of the members of the court.

It is not my purpose to dispute the point with which the greater part

of Frankfurter’s opinion is concerned. The law must be obeyed. But I

think the original desegregation decision was wrong, that it ought to

be reversed, and that meanwhile every legal means should be found,

not to disobey it, but to avoid it. Failing this, the situation

should be corrected by constitutional amendment.

I cannot agree that this is a matter involving “a few states” as

Frankfurter suggests. The picture in reality is of a court, by

one sudden edict, forcing upon the entire South a view, and a way

of life, with which the great majority of the population are in

complete disagreement. Although not from the legal, in fact from the

practical, standpoint the North, which does not have the problem, is

presuming to tell the South, which does have the problem, what to do.

To me there is a frightening arrogance in this performance. Neither

the North, nor the court, has any holy mandate inherent in the

trend of the times or the progress of liberalism to reform society

in the South. In the matter of schools, rights to equal education

are inseparably bound up with rights to freedom of association

and, in the South at least, may require that both be considered

simultaneously. (In using the word “association” here, I mean the

right to associate with whom you please, and the right not to

associate with whom you please.) Moreover, am I not correct in my

recollection that it was the social stigma of segregation and its

effect upon the Negro’s “mind and heart” to which the court objected

as much as to any other, and thus that the court, in forcing the

black man’s right to equal education was actually determined to

violate the white man’s right to freedom of association?

In any case the crux of this issue would seem obvious: social

status has to be earned. Or, to put it another way, equality of

association has to be mutually agreed to and mutually desired. It

cannot be achieved by legal fiat. Personally, I feel only affection

for the Negro. But there are facts that have to be faced. Any man

with two eyes in his head can observe a Negro settlement in the

Congo, can study the pure-blooded African in his native habitat

as he exists when left on his own resources, can compare this

settlement with London or Paris, and can draw his own conclusions

regarding relative levels of character and intelligence--or that

combination of character and intelligence which is civilization.

Finally, he can inquire as to the number of pure-blooded blacks

who have made contributions to great literature or engineering or

medicine or philosophy or abstract science. (I do not include singing

or athletics as these are not primarily matters of character and

intelligence.) Nor is there any validity to the argument that the

Negro “hasn’t been given a chance.” We were all in caves or trees

originally. The progress which the pure-blooded black has made

when left to himself, with a minimum of white help or hindrance,

genetically or otherwise, can be measured today in the Congo.

Lord Bryce, a distinguished and impartial foreign observer, presented

the situation accurately in his _American Commonwealth_ when he wrote

in 1880:

“History is a record of the progress towards civilization of races

originally barbarous. But that progress has in all cases been slow

and gradual.... Utterly dissimilar is the case of the African Negro,

caught up in and whirled along with the swift movement of the

American democracy. In it we have a singular juxtaposition of the

most primitive and the most recent, the most rudimentary and the most

highly developed types of culture.... A body of savages is violently

carried across the ocean and set to work as slaves on the plantations

of masters who are three or four thousand years in advance of them in

mental capacity and moral force.... Suddenly, even more suddenly than

they were torn from Africa, they find themselves, not only freed, but

made full citizens and active members of the most popular government

the world has seen, treated as fit to bear an equal part in ruling,

not only themselves, but also their recent masters.”

One does not telescope three or four thousand years into the 70 years

since Bryce wrote. One may change the terms of the problem by mixed

breeding, but if ever there was a matter that ought to be left to

local option it would seem to be the decision as to when the mixture

has produced an acceptable amalgam in the schools. And I see no

reason for penalizing a locality that does not choose to mix.

I would emphatically support improvement of education in Negro

schools, if and where it is inferior. Equality of opportunity and

equality before the law, when not strained to cover other situations,

are acceptable ideals because they provide the chance to earn and to

progress--and consequently should be enforced by legal fiat as far as

is humanly possible. But equality of association, which desegregation

in Southern schools involves, pre-supposes a status which in the

South the average Negro has not earned. To force it upon the Southern

white will, I think, meet with as much opposition as the prohibition

amendment encountered in the wet states.

Throughout this controversy there has been frequent mention of the

equality of man as a broad social objective. No proposition in recent

years has been clouded by more loose thinking. Not many of us would

care to enter a poetry contest with Keats, nor play chess with the

national champion, nor set our character beside Albert Schweitzer’s.

When we see the doctrine of equality contradicted everywhere around

us in fact, it remains a mystery why so many of us continue to give

it lip service in theory, and why we tolerate the vicious notion that

status in any field need not be earned.

Pin down the man who uses the word “equality,” and at once the

evasions and qualifications begin. As I recall, you, yourself, in a

recent statement used some phrase to the effect that men were “equal

in the sight of God.” I would be interested to know where in the

Bible you get your authority for this conception. There is doubtless

authority in Scripture for the concept of _potential_ equality in the

sight of God--after earning that status, and with various further

qualifications--but where is the authority for the sort of _ipso

facto_ equality suggested by your context? The whole idea contradicts

the basic tenet of the Christian and Jewish religions that status is

earned through righteousness and is not an automatic matter. What is

true of religion and righteousness is just as true of achievement in

other fields. And what is true among individuals is just as true of

averages among races.

The confusion here is not unlike the confusion created by some

left-wing writers between the doctrine of equality and the doctrine

of Christian love. The command to love your neighbor is not a command

either to consider your neighbor your equal, or yourself his equal;

perhaps the purest example of great love without equality is the

love between parent and child. In fact the equality doctrine as a

whole, except when surrounded by a plethora of qualifications, is

so untenable that it falls to pieces at the slightest thoughtful

examination.

Frankfurter closes his opinion with a quotation from Abraham Lincoln,

to whom the Negro owes more than to any other man. I, too, would like

to quote from Lincoln. At Charleston, Illinois, in September 1858 in

a debate with Douglas, Lincoln said:

“I am not, nor ever have been, in favor of bringing about in any

way the social and political equality of the white and black races;

I am not nor ever have been in favor of making voters or jurors

of Negroes, nor qualifying them to hold office.... I will say in

addition to this that there is a physical difference between the

white and black races which I believe will ever forbid the two races

living together on terms of social and political equality. And in as

much as they cannot so live, while they do remain together, there

must be the position of superior and inferior, and I as much as any

other man am in favor of having the superior position assigned to the

white race.”

The extent to which Lincoln would have modified these views today,

or may have modified them before his death, is a moot question, but

it is clear on its face that he would not have been in sympathy

with the Supreme Court’s position on desegregation. Many historians

have felt that when Lincoln died the South lost the best friend it

had. This also may be moot, but again it seems clear that for 94

years--from the horrors of Reconstruction through the Supreme Court’s

desegregation decision--the North has been trying to force the black

man down the white Southerner’s throat, and it is a miracle that

relations between the races in the South have progressed as well as

they have.

Perhaps the most discouraging spectacle is the spectacle of Northern

newspapers dwelling with pleasure upon the predicament of the

Southern parent who is forced to choose between desegregation and

no school at all for his child. It does not seem to occur to these

papers that this is the cruelest sort of blackmail; that the North is

virtually putting a pistol at the head of the Southern parent in a

gesture which every Northerner must contemplate with shame.

Indeed, there now seems little doubt that the court’s recent decision

has set back the cause of the Negro in the South by a generation. He

may force his way into white schools, but he will not force his way

into white hearts nor earn the respect he seeks. What evolution was

slowly and wisely achieving, revolution has now arrested, and the

trail of bitterness will lead far.

After dispatching this letter to the White House, I sent a copy to

Dabney. Dabney allowed three days to pass out of courtesy to the

President. Then he printed it on the editorial page of the Richmond

_Times-Dispatch_ and devoted his leading editorial to it. On the same

page he included a cartoon showing the North being awakened from sleep

by an alarm clock tagged “The Putnam Letter”. Like the cartoon, the

editorial was unduly complimentary. It referred to my effort as “one of

the most incisive and convincing discussions we have seen”. It dwelt

on my training in history and law as well as my years of residence

in the South and my New England origins. Finally it concluded: “The

fact that Mr. Putnam has written this letter ... is eloquent testimony

to the fact that the South’s case is getting across, at last, to

intelligent Northerners. We still have a long way to go but we are

making progress.”

I took the personal references in this editorial with a grain of salt.

I knew well enough that it was not Putnam but the predicament of the

South that produced what appeal my letter may have had, together with

the fact that I was a Northerner. But the response from Memphis, and

now Dabney’s remarks, made me wonder about something else. Here,

in effect, was a call to the North for help, over the heads of the

court, over the head of the President. Here was a great section of

the country, more indigenously American than many of the areas most

loudly denouncing the South, asking for understanding and aid. What

sort of responsibility did this place upon me, and upon all impartial

Northerners?

Day by day my concern increased. The effect of Dabney’s publication

was a new flood of letters, even of telegrams. If Memphis had produced

a rain, Richmond produced a torrent. Dabney, too, was inundated. On

November 4 he wrote me: “The response from individuals has been truly

colossal. Nothing of the sort we have published in years has caused

such a sensation.” Neighboring newspapers started to copy, and mail

began arriving from Norfolk and other Virginia towns. “The open letter

to the President,” said the Norfolk _Ledger-Star_ on October 18, “has

occasioned so much comment and brought so many requests for copies that

the regular supply of back issues for that day has been exhausted.

However, a supply of reprints of the page containing the letter is now

available and copies may be had by writing or calling in person.”

Referring to this announcement, a letter from Virginia Beach remarked,

“During the ten years that I have been a resident of Tidewater Virginia

this is the first time such an offering has ever appeared in either

Norfolk newspaper. I thought nothing of a forty mile trip to and from

Norfolk in order to purchase twelve copies.... Like yourself, I am a

Northerner, a Chicagoan, educated at Williams College....”

Actually, many of the letters were from native Northerners moved

South, and I hope I will not be accused of egotism if I say that most

seemed to come from sane and earnest men and women. Few were from the

group the Attorney General had said he thought was the source of all

Southern opposition--“Crackpots running printing presses in cellars.”

Several of my correspondents overwhelmed me with their courtesy and the

courtly expression of their gratitude, although I knew that the praise

was for a viewpoint, not for a man. As the letter began to be published

more widely throughout the South, the cross-section of comments from

all parts of the area had a common intensity. _Charlottesville_:

“Permit me to say that, as a member of the School Board of this city,

and therefore one more deeply and grievously concerned than even my

fellow Southerners, your letter is the most thought-provoking and

complete statement of the case that I have ever seen.” _Birmingham_:

“May I offer a toast to a scholar and an honorable gentleman and

shatter the glass!” _Jacksonville_: “Your words so expressed my own

views and opinion that I seemed to be reading my thoughts.” _Columbia_:

“I must tell you that that letter is the finest piece of logic and

truth I’ve ever read; many I have talked with are thrilled with it.”

_Savannah_: “You have expressed so very well the feeling of Georgians,

who love our country and also love our children.” _Shreveport_: “The

entire South is deeply grateful.... It is highly possible your efforts

will be as fruitful for the North. You may be receiving the thanks of

their thinking citizenship in the near future.” _Meridian_: “Thank God

for people like you. It does my heart good to know that someone other

than a native Southerner understands.”

These letters did not arrive by tens or hundreds; they arrived by

thousands. College students wrote me they had framed the letter

and hung it on the walls of their rooms. Schools assigned it for

class discussion. Editors of law journals asked to print it. Judges

wrote me from chambers. Senators and Congressmen simultaneously

requested permission to insert it in the Congressional Record, and I

was embarrassed as to the proper protocol in reply. The Birmingham

_Post-Herald_ alone supplied 22,000 demands for reprints. Whether

or not I had the point of view of an average American on things in

general, it looked as if many Southerners felt I had presented their

viewpoint on integration.

Again I realized that my own efforts had had little to do with the

matter. It was clear this time that the pent-up frustrations of the

South had snatched at this straw because of its almost universal

publication by the Southern press with favorable editorial comment.

There were a few, but only a few, islands of silence where papers were

in the control of so-called “moderates”. For the most part, comment ran

in the vein of Dabney’s editorial.

Among columnists, the most active was John Temple Graves of Birmingham.

Day after day he urged my letter upon his readers, upon the President,

upon the North. In one of his syndicated articles he remarked: “What

Carleton Putnam has written the President is newer than the New Deal,

fairer than the Fair Deal, and as old as the Constitution of the United

States. Let Southern young people be told. Let some of our Southern

religious leaders be told, too.”

Finally one morning my telephone rang and I found Graves on the

wire from Birmingham. He wanted to know what reception my letter

had received in Northern newspapers. I was compelled to answer that

although Dabney had sent reprints to every editor in the United States

only one Northern paper--a small one in Plattsburg--had printed it and

with unfavorable comment. The sectional cleavage had been extraordinary.

Graves appeared shocked by this, and then an antidote occurred to him.

He would call in his column for the starting of a fund to print the

letter in the North by advertisement. He asked me if I would sanction

such a move, and I replied that I had no objection, but that I could

not personally be associated with it. He said he was in the same

position, but that he would try to form a committee in Birmingham to

receive the money and plan the campaign.

The upshot was the creation of what later became known as the Putnam

Letter Committee, consisting of James E. Simpson, son of a former

president _pro tem_ of the Alabama Senate, Chairman; former Governor

Frank Dixon; Lieutenant Governor Albert Boutwell and former Lieutenant

Governor W. G. Hardwick. These distinguished public figures offered

their services without compensation, not only to solicit and receive

funds, but to perform the arduous task of handling what proved to be a

voluminous and instructive correspondence--this time from the North. My

own mail surpassed the flood from the South. The Committee’s mail was

many times mine.

The Southern press again lent their aid. An editorial in the Roanoke

_World-News_ was typical:

“We believe this plan to be a worthy one. Mr. Putnam’s statement of the

South’s case deserves a nationwide audience. While it is true that he

offers Virginia no quick way out of its present dilemma, it would be

erroneous to say the letter is not constructive.

“In fact, we would say that the only hope of Virginia and the rest of

the South lies not in ‘massive resistance’ but in persuasion, in logic

and in salesmanship. The fact that Mr. Putnam wrote the letter is

evidence that among some intelligent Northerners there is understanding

and sympathy for the prevailing opinion in the South.

“More Americans need to know and understand this opinion for only by a

change in national feeling can there be a real solution to the problem

which faces us.”

With the last paragraph in this editorial I heartily agreed. My

observation of the manner in which “the paper curtain”, as Southerners

have come to call it, had fallen on my letter in the North and West

was only a minor part of the pattern I was beginning to recognize. It

was a small episode which provided a personal introduction to a wider

panorama. I had said to the President: “From the practical standpoint

the North, which does not have the problem, is presuming to tell the

South, which does have the problem, what to do.” I would soon discover

that controlling forces in the North were not only telling the South

what to do, they were refusing to let the Northern public even listen

to the South’s case. I would begin to harbor a suspicion, entirely

apart from my letter, that in no other area of human affairs, at home

or abroad, were so many people with no personal knowledge of a subject,

and no practical concern in it, spending so much time dictating to

other people, who had great experience with the subject and vital

concern in it.

I would begin also, in due course, to understand the reason for this.

Meanwhile, the Birmingham Committee set to work. Within six weeks they

had raised enough money, mostly from hundreds of small contributions,

to place their first advertisement. It appeared in the New York _Times_

on January 5, 1959, in a format six columns wide and a full page deep.

To it was attached a coupon asking that readers who sympathized with

the message and wished to see further advertising contribute to the

fund. This procedure proved informative in itself. Each advertisement,

as it appeared, brought in enough money _from the North_ to pay for

the next. Within five months the fund had passed $37,000 and the

letter had been published in eighteen Northern and Western papers

with a circulation of nearly seven million. Adding the initial free

publication in the South, the total circulation had amounted to over

ten million. I had no figures on foreign printings, but I was informed

by the United States Information Agency that a paper in Salisbury,

Rhodesia, carried the letter in full, and I had received comments from

India and other remote areas.

Eight newspapers had refused to print the letter, even as an

advertisement. These were: the Washington _Post_, the Los Angeles

_Examiner_, the Los Angeles _Times_, the Pittsburgh _Press_, the

Indianapolis _Star-News_, the Newark _News_, the Newark _Star-Ledger_,

and the Buffalo _News_. None of the publishers of these papers felt

able to give their reasons, but again, as my knowledge of the situation

developed, they became clear.

The interesting thing to me was less the quality and extent of the

paper curtain than the money the man and woman in the street were

willing to pay to keep the advertisement going, and the nature of the

correspondence it produced. Northern replies were ninety-five percent

in sympathy. Public relations experts tell me that out of ten people

who will write favorably on a subject only one will write when he finds

himself in opposition, but even with this allowance, the man and woman

in the street in the North seemed to be on the side of the South.

As to the unfriendly letters, they were the most significant of all.

After a short time, I gave instructions to the Birmingham Committee

to forward me no more favorable replies. All I wanted to see were

the hostile five percent. Out of these I sought to distill some

understanding of what was going on in the minds of the opposition

behind the paper curtain. And the more I learned the more startled I

became.

+Chapter II+

THE HIDDEN ISSUE

There were, of course, some violent letters from both Negroes and

whites. There were a few from obvious crackpots. But by and large the

disagreement seemed to be both sincere and emotional. It was impossible

not to smile at letters from teachers and ministers who protested with

incoherent emotion at the thought of my emotion, and who urged me to

face the facts--which they had never faced themselves.

A scattering of superficial argument on a variety of subjects arrived

daily: Did I not realize how unchristian my position was? Did not

American democracy clearly require desegregation? Must we not set an

example to other nations in the fight against Communism? Was not my

position simply a revival of Hitlerism? These, and similar subjects,

could be handled one by one without too long a letter in reply.

What I found of larger significance, because it seemed to be the

common denominator in a universal misunderstanding, lay in what my

correspondents called “modern” anthropology. Through almost all the

letters that attempted really to reason, one consistent theme could be

found: How could I be so dated in my thinking! Why was I still living

in the nineteenth century! What was the point in quoting Lincoln and

Bryce when everyone now-a-days knew they were obsolete! I could not

help but remember a remark John Temple Graves had made to me concerning

a debate on segregation he had had a few years before on the Town Hall

of the Air. In it the opposition had continually harassed him with the

comment, “Oh, Mr. Graves, if only you knew modern anthropology!” Mr.

Graves, not being a professional scientist, had not attempted to meet

this challenge in a Town Hall debate. But I was quite prepared to meet

it in my correspondence. My only surprise was that it should need to be

taken seriously.

And here I discovered an actual advantage in having separated myself

for twenty years from the academic world and then returned to feel the

fresh impact of what had happened in the interval. The process had

its handicap only in a momentary disorientation. It had its value in a

detachment of judgment and above all in a freedom from exposure to the

creeping distortion of view, the slow but pervasive hypnosis, that two

decades of ideological pressure can force even upon the sciences.

I had realized that there had been a broad movement to change man’s

concept of the nature of man. I had known that there had been

pressure to widen the American doctrine of equality of opportunity

into a doctrine of social, cultural, economic and genetic equality.

By 1954 I had witnessed its invasion of the minds of Supreme Court

justices. But I had not even then quite grasped how cleverly it had

proceeded--infiltrating first the sciences that surround anthropology,

moving next into the more strictly social sciences, enthroning itself

at last in the Supreme Court’s desegregation order.

Race and reason · 第 1 / 12 段