Recently in Civil Rights Category

"The cultural climate is far different today, besides. Now, roughly 75 percent of Americans support an end to Don't Ask, and gay issues are no longer a third rail in American politics. Gay civil rights history is moving faster in the country, including on the once-theoretical front of same-sex marriage, than it is in Washington. If the country needs any Defense of Marriage Act at this point, it would be to defend heterosexual marriage from the right-wing 'family values' trinity of Sanford, Ensign and Vitter."

The NYT's Frank Rich reflects on the gay rights movement on the 40th anniversary of Stonewall. "No president possesses that magic wand, but Obama's inaction on gay civil rights is striking. So is his utterly uncharacteristic inarticulateness...It's a press cliché that 'gay supporters' are disappointed with Obama, but we should all be."

"It's worth remembering how Vincent Canby began his review on June 30, 1989, in the New York Times: 'In all of the earnest, solemn, humorless discussions about the social and political implications of Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing, an essential fact tends to be overlooked: it is one terrific movie.'"

In The Root, Henry Louis Gates reflects on the 20th anniversary of Do the Right Thing, and checks in with Spike Lee on the film. "None of us back then could possibly have imagined all that has transpired for our people, and for this country, in the intervening two decades: a black prince and princess so elegantly sitting up in the White House, and their very first date was in a movie theater in 1989, watching--what else? Do the Right Thing."

"'There are times when an abortion is necessary. I know that. When you have a black and a white,' he told an aide, before adding, 'Or a rape.'" Another round of newly-released Nixon tapes sheds more light on the dark and troubling imaginings of the 37th president. "'What I really think is deep down in this country, there is a lot of anti-Semitism, and all this is going to do is stir it up,' Nixon said...'It may be they have a death wish. You know that's been the problem with our Jewish friends for centuries.'" Class act, this guy.

"I was able to sit at Lincoln's side and see how he thought and how he acted, and how he felt about what was going on around him. I felt the pressures that were on him. You can see what people were writing to him, how they were nudging him." Historian David Herbert Donald, 1920-2009. "'It is the most balanced of the biographies out there," Mr. Foner said in a telephone interview Monday. 'It is not a work of hero worship, nor does it have a prosecutorial brief. He presents Lincoln as a rather passive figure, not at all in charge of the forces raging around him, which is quite accurate.'"

"More than 60 years ago, I began the task of trying to write a new kind of Southern History. It would be broad in its reach, tolerant in its judgments of Southerners, and comprehensive in its inclusion of everyone who lived in the region,' he wrote....'Looking back, I can plead guilty of having provided only a sketch of the work I laid out for myself.'" John Hope Franklin, 1915-2009. "I think knowing one's history leads one to act in a more enlightened fashion. I can not imagine how knowing one's history would not urge one to be an activist."

"The dogmas of the quiet past are inadequate to the stormy present. The occasion is piled high with difficulty, and we must rise with the occasion. As our case is new, so we must think anew, and act anew. We must disenthrall ourselves, and then we shall save our country." Happy 200th, Mr. President.

All in all, I thought this was a great speech, both in its reaffirming of the real challenges ahead and its calm, resolute, and determined temper. And, with its emphases on virtue, history, commonality, and citzenship, this was as progressive-minded an inaugural as I could have ever hoped for. It's early yet. But, so far, 44 has lived up to his progressive potential, and then some.

In any case, now the real work begins. Make us proud, Mr. President. The world is watching.

Two recent and choice Columbia-related links by way of Ted at The Late Adopter:

"Lincoln is important to us not because of his melancholia or how he chose his cabinet but because of his role in the vast human drama of emancipation and what his life tells us about slavery's enduring legacy...In the wake of the 2008 election and on the eve of an inaugural address with 'a new birth of freedom,' a phrase borrowed from the Gettysburg Address, as its theme, the Lincoln we should remember is the politician whose greatness lay in his capacity for growth." In The Nation and on the 200th anniversary of Lincoln's birth, Eric Foner evaluates the continuing legacy of the 16th president.

"Economic orthodoxy -- which gave high priority to balanced budgets and fiscal restraint -- remained a powerful force in the 1930s, even as its limitations became increasingly obvious. Similar arguments can still be heard today...The New Deal was least successful when it was least aggressive--when it let concerns about fiscal prudence override the urgent need to pump enormous sums of money into a moribund economy." And, over in TNR, Alan Brinkley notes what the Obama administration can learn from the New Deal.

Update: "Most Americans, I suspect, if asked whether they would prefer a president with strong principles or one who prefers pragmatic politics, would choose an idealist over a realist in a flash. But almost all successful politicians combine principle with pragmatism constantly." In a TNR piece that ties the two above together quite well, Prof. Brinkley speculates on the fatal flaw in Dubya's make-up: certitude. "For whatever reasons...Bush has seemed to be comfortable only when he could make quick and firm decisions, however complicated the issue, and then move on. Admitting mistakes or changing course seems almost contrary to his nature."

It took awhile to get here, but Gus Van Sant's timely and vibrant biopic Milk, which I caught on Christmas day, is well worth the wait. In a year that witnessed a former community organizer take his message of hope all the way to the White House, and saw a majority of Californians vote for legislating and invalidating their neighbors' marriages (my favorite pin: "Can we vote on your marriage now?"), Milk couldn't feel any more of the moment. (If anything, I wish Milk had come out before the Prop 8 vote, when it might've done some good.) Arguably the best film about the realities of politics since Charlie Wilson's War, Milk is blessed with excellent performances across the board -- most notably Sean Penn, James Franco, and Josh Brolin, but also supporting turns by Emile Hirsch, Alison Pill, and others. And as a chronicle of a key moment in an ongoing civil rights struggle, Milk also feels like a watershed film of its own in its approach to its gay and lesbian characters. In short, it's one of the best films of 2008.

"My name is Harvey Milk, and I want to recruit you." So began the oft-repeated speel of the San Francisco city supervisor and "Mayor of Castro Street," who, in 1977 and after several attempts, became the first openly gay official elected to office in the US. But, seven years before those heady days, Milk (Sean Penn) was just a 40-year-old insurance man (and Republican, even), living a closeted life of quiet desperation in NYC. After a chance encounter and illicit proposition becomes an impromptu birthday party, Milk and new beau Scott Smith (James Franco) fall in love, talk about starting over, and decide to go West. Life is peaceful there...or is it? Even as Milk's camera shop in the gay-friendly Castro district becomes a salon of artists, thinkers, and free spirits, bigotry is rampant even in the streets of San Francisco, and the cops at best turn a blind eye to -- and at worst actively participate in -- antigay violence. No more, says Milk. Taking a page from the ethnic political machines of an earlier century, he organizes Castro's gays and lesbians into first a protest movement and then an organized voting and boycotting bloc. And when a redistricting plan emphasizing community self-rule in San Francisco is put into effect, Milk becomes an actual, legitimate political wheeler-and-dealer, with all the benefits and aggravations attending. (For more on the man and the movement, see the 1984 documentary The Times of Harvey Milk, now on Hulu for free.)

But, even as Harvey Milk rises to power in San Fran, a parallel movement stirs amid the churches and suburbs of Orange County. Led by former beauty queen, singer, and orange juice shiller Anita Bryant, the ever-so-Christian "Save Our Children" campaign gathers steam across the nation in its quest to roll back what meager protections gays and lesbians have managed to establish over the years. And when conservative state senator John Briggs (Denis O'Hare, seemingly forever destined to play assholes) brings the fight west in the form of Proposition 6, an initiative that would ban gays and lesbians from public schools, the battle for California is on. And even as Milk becomes the poster boy against Prop 6 and for recognizing gays and lesbians as full citizens and fellow human beings, he has to contend with trouble on the homefront -- not only in his personal life (his new boyfriend Jack (Diego Luna) is more than a little erratic) but in his political backyard, where supervisor Dan White (Josh Brolin), from the Catholic, working-class district next door, is starting to act increasingly unstable. (But, I guess this is what happens when society is so permissive as to let a man get all hopped up on twinkies.)

Which reminds me: A word of appreciation for Josh Brolin's work here. Sean Penn is garnering kudos across the board, and a likely Oscar nod, for his portrayal of Milk, and they're very well-deserved. It's really an astonishing transformation Penn accomplishes here -- not so much because he's playing someone who's gay (homosexual), but because he's playing someone who's gay (happy).This is the same guy who sulked through Mystic River?) And, while Brolin will likely -- and, imho, justifiably in the end -- get edged out for Best Supporting Actor by Heath Ledger for The Dark Knight, his work here suggests he's got some serious chops. At first it seems as if Brolin will just be coasting on his recent Dubya impression -- another good-natured, hard-hearted conservative fratboy for the resume. Then, just as you think Brolin's endangering himself in terms of typecasting, it's suggested Dan White might also be a deeply repressed closet case. (I tend to find the argument that all frothing-at-the-mouth homophobes are in reality trapped in the closet to be too simplistic by half, but apparently there's some grounding for it in White's story. In any case, Brolin underplays it beautifully ) As Milk progresses, we begin to sense other reasons why White is such a strange and ultimately homicidal bird -- he's envious of Harvey, he feels personally screwed over by him, he's something of a friendless wonder, he's not the brightest bulb on the tree anyway, he feels trapped by, and powerless before, the authority figures in his life (his wife, his cop buddies, his church). Brolin lets all of this play out without tipping his hand in any one direction. It's a subtle, complex, and very worthwhile performance, and it's a testament to the film's heart that it extends such empathy even to its ostensible antagonist.

Speaking of empathy, this isn't at all a surprise coming from Gus Van Sant, always a very humanistic director, but it should be noted regardless: When it comes to full recognition of gays and lesbians, Milk laudably practices what it preaches. Jonathan Demme's Philadelphia was good for its time, but nowadays (it's on heavy rotation on AMC) it gives off a distinctly Guess Who's Coming to Dinner? vibe. And, as I said when it came out, Ang Lee's Brokeback Mountain often seemed "as somber, restrained, and delicate as Kabuki theater." By contrast, the couples of Milk are passionate -- both physically and emotionally -- messy, flawed, and alive. Of course, there have been other well-rounded depictions of gays and lesbians in film in the past -- in Van Sant's earlier work, in the films of other gay directors like Todd Haynes, John Cameron Mitchell, and Kimberly Peirce, and in countless others. Still, Milk feels like an event of sorts. Unlike many of its forebears, it's a mainstream Oscar-caliber movie that just takes its characters' sexuality at face value and without apology. In that sense, it feels like a film whose time has come.

I said earlier that Dan White was ostensibly the villain of Milk, but that's not entirely true. Rather, to its credit, the film is pretty bold about pointing the finger where the trouble really lies: at the conservative-minded legions of organized Christendom -- or at the very least its right-wing, for-profit flank -- who've decided that arbitrarily upholding one proscription mentioned in passing in the Old Testament (shellfish, anyone?), and then ruthlessly enforcing it on the backs of their neighbors and co-workers, is more important than upholding the central tenet of the actual teachings of Jesus: "Love one another." (Along those lines, expect a good bit of "godless liberal Hollywood" bluster from the usual corners if this film gets any Oscar buzz.)

Which brings us to that Wal-Mart of spirituality, Rick Warren, who as you all know will be delivering the invocation at Obama's inauguration this month, and who has said all manner of intemperate things about gays and lesbians (as well as jews, pro-choice voters, and others) in the past, even going so far as to campaign for Prop 8 in California two months ago.

Now, when the Rick Warren pick first came out, I didn't say anything here for two reasons. One was deeply selfish: That was the week I was finishing up my speechwriting app, and it didn't seem like the most opportune time to be too critical of the administration around here at GitM. (In the end, it didn't matter anyway, of course.) More importantly, though, I am -- and still partly remain -- of the mind that the bigger picture needs to be kept in mind here. If it keeps the right-wing fundies relatively happy and docile, and helps them to buy into the notion of a post-partisan Obama presidency, then Rick Warren can give all the one minute ceremonial speeches he wants, so long as Obama ultimately shows himself a friend to gay and lesbian rights in his presidential actions.

But, there's a sequence in Milk that brought me around a bit. When Dan White mentions the "issue" of gay rights in one crucial scene, Harvey replies: "These are not issues, Dan. These are our lives we're fighting for." And, put that way, the calculus changes. To straight progressive folk such as myself, one can easily -- too easily -- get to thinking of gay rights as an "issue" among many. But, for gays and lesbians all around the country, this is their lives. And, when considered thusly, the president of these United States -- least of all a president who ran and won on a campaign of hope -- should not be legitimizing bigotry, such as that continuously expressed by Warren without apology, in any kind of forum, let alone the most portentous and culturally significant inauguration in at least fifty years, perhaps ever.

In an eloquent column last week, the NYT's Frank Rich articulated basically where I stand on Obama's decision at this point: His choice of Warren is "no Bay of Pigs. But it does add an asterisk to the joyous inaugural of our first black president. It’s bizarre that Obama, of all people, would allow himself to be on the wrong side of this history." Let's hope that Obama doesn't follow in the footsteps of the last Democratic president, who very quickly started backpedaling on gay rights once in office, vis a vis "Don't Ask, Don't Tell." And, while I'm sure he's pretty busy these days, the president-elect (apparently a movie buff of sorts) could do worse than spend a few hours to reflect on the story of another community-organizer who believed in the transformative power of hope, who carried the hopes of his constitutents into higher office...and who faced unflinching and unwavering contempt from an irreconcilable opposition once he got there.

I'm not sure if it made it to the networks, but Rep. John Lewis' introduction to the MLK tribute was easily the most spine-tingling and moving moment of the day outside of Obama's nomination speech. When Lewis spoke, it was still a bright, sunny afternoon in Denver, and it was easy to imagine -- and even almost feel the tangible presence of -- that August day in Washington forty-five years ago.

I'm fully aware that this is just an illusion, that the two events were quite different in feel and tone, and that the former will always remain unknowable to me, outside of book-learning. But, as Lewis spoke with such emotion and conviction Thursday afternoon, it was a very powerful feeling, as if the space-time of American history was folding around us to fashion bookends, forty-five years apart. I felt extraordinarily lucky to be there to witness and experience it. "'We’ve had disappointments since then, but if someone told me I would be here' Mr. Lewis said, shaking [his] head. 'When people say nothing has changed, I feel like saying, "Come walk in my shoes."'"

When it comes to penning movie reviews around here, I tend to find writing about comedies the most difficult. (See, for example, my original mulligan on Borat.) For one, it's hard to quantify exactly what makes a picture *funny*, and often what one person finds uproarious, another finds on the wrong side of lame. (Although I'm sure all right-thinking people can agree on the merits of The Big Lebowski.) For another, comedy more than any other genre seems dependent on one's mood. (Case in point, Anchorman, which I saw in a funk and shrugged at, then caught later on TV and found quite amusing)

All of which is to say that, even more than usual, my thoughts on Ben Stiller's Tropic Thunder should be taken with a grain of salt -- Actual results may vary. For my part, even though both Stiller and Jack Black were basically doing their usual schtick, and Steve Coogan is pretty much wasted (in more ways than one), I found Thunder to be a decently funny experience last Wednesday. It's got a bit of the "throw everything at the wall and see what sticks" approach, and some jokes -- say, Tom Cruise gyrating in a Harvey Weinstein fat suit -- end up getting run into the ground through overuse, Austin Powers-style. But, that being said, I had a good time. It helped that I'm a sucker for the sort of Hollywood inside-baseball humor that Thunder endlessly trafficks in. (IMHO, that's also the only redeemable thing about HBO's otherwise aggravating Entourage.) And there are elements of it that just appealed to my funny bone -- seeing Nick Nolte finally get all Chris Walken up on us, for example, or the funny-'cause-they're-tired 'Nam-era ditties (Creedence, Rolling Stone, Buffalo Springfield) interspersed throughout the flick. So, I'm not going to say it was the best film of the year or anything, but as a diverting and amusing morsel of late-summer fare, Tropic Thunder gets the job done...for me anyway.

The story, as you probably know, involves a behind-the-scenes look at an Apocalypse Now-level movie disaster deep in the jungles of Southeast Asia. After a few wry trailers (the funniest and most dead-on being Satan's Alley, although I'd have hated to be Eddie Murphy during The Fatties 2), we're introduced to the gang on hand. There's fading action star Tugg Speedman (Stiller, being Stiller), drug-addled comedian Jeff Portnoy (Black, going for Farley/Belushi and ending up with Black), Aussie thespian Kirk Lazarus (Robert Downey Jr, weirdly genius), hip-hop phenom Alpa Chino (Brandon T. Jackson, used mainly to cover Downey's ass), and newbie Kevin Sandusky (Jay Baruchel, late of the Apatow factory), all under the supervision of video director Damien Cockburn (Coogan). Once the film ends up a month behind schedule (three days into filming), the who's-more-grizzled source material for this 'Nam picture, Four-Leaf Tayback (Nolte), insists Cockburn bring his bevy of spoiled stars into "the s**t." Well, things go wrong, of course. And, soon, stranded somewhere near the Laotian border without even a Tivo on hand, this cast of thespians -- only some of whom seem to understand the trouble they're in -- must navigate and negotiate their way back to SoCal-style civilization...but not before ticking off the local drug cartel, living out the inexorable men-on-a-mission tropes, and, just possibly, making a decent 80's-style actioner in the process.

The aspect of Tropic Thunder which *originally* was drawing the most heat is Downey, Jr.'s resurrection of one of Hollywood's darker stains in its past, blackface. (Controversy has since moved on to the portrayal of mentally handicapped people in the film-within-the-film Simple Jack, which, to my mind, is patently absurd. Watch Forrest Gump or Rain Man again sometime and you should get the point.) At any rate, surprisingly given the poor taste involved in reviving minstrelsy in any form, I thought Downey and the writers actually pulled it off. This is mainly thanks to the incredulity of Jackson's Alpa Chino to most of Downey's racist tics, such as reveling in crawfish, gumbo, and the like. All in all, I'd say David Roediger should be proud: Downey and the Tropic Thunder team managed to make their blackface routine a comment about the enduring racist foibles of white people (and the supreme actorly ego of Russell Crowe-type Method men) more than anything else, and thus help to subvert black stereotypes by drawing attention to them. (Of course, one irony here, at least from Spike Lee's perspective, is that Jackson's "Alpa Chino/Booty Sweat" act could be construed as even more minstrel-ish than Downey's role.) In any case, it was a high-wire tightrope act for Downey to pull off, and the fact that his performance has elicited so little controversy suggests how well he pulled it off. (In fact, the five minutes where Downey pretends to be Asian, and pretty much just chop-sockey's it up rather embarrassingly, illustrates how badly this could've gone, and how much we've still got to work on.)

"African-Americans continue to suffer from the consequences of slavery and Jim Crow -- long after both systems were formally abolished -- through enormous damage and loss, both tangible and intangible, including the loss of human dignity and liberty, the frustration of careers and professional lives, and the long-term loss of income and opportunity." The House looks set to pass a resolution apologizing for slavery and Jim Crow. Well, better late than never, I suppose.

"'The world is a tough place,' he said with a chuckle. 'You're never going to get out of it alive.'" A damn dirty ape no longer, Charlton Heston, 1923-2008. (Between this and Buckley, it's been a bad year so far for the patriarchs of conservatism.)

Update: Hmmm. After reading up on him further, it seems Heston (nee John Carter!) was a late-comer to the conservative movement, and even to the NRA philosophy: "In his earlier years, Heston was a liberal Democrat, campaigning for Presidential candidates Adlai Stevenson in 1956 and John F. Kennedy in 1960. A civil rights activist, he accompanied Martin Luther King Jr. during the civil rights march held in Washington, D.C. in 1963...In 1968, following the assassination of Senator Robert F. Kennedy, Heston...called for public support for President Johnson's Gun Control Act of 1968...He was also an opponent of McCarthyism and racial segregation, which he saw as only helping the cause of Communism worldwide. He opposed the Vietnam War and considered Richard Nixon a disaster for America. He turned down John Wayne's offer of a role in The Alamo, because the film was a right-wing allegory for the Cold War."

"Not one lawyer in 100 can identify Ohio congressman John Bingham as the main drafter of the 14th Amendment. Yet Bingham is a fascinating historical figure: he served in Congress in the 1850s as the country was torn apart and in the 1860s as it was stitched back together. He was a federal judge and the nation's minister to Japan. As a prosecutor, he convicted John Wilkes Booth's co-conspirators, and as a member of Congress he gave closing arguments in President Andrew Johnson impeachment trial. All that, plus he drafted Section 1 of the 14th Amendment, which is perhaps the single most important paragraph of our Constitution." Over at TNR, Doug Kendall pleas with Obama and others to remember the Reconstruction amendments.

"'I really didn't want to rehab and come back this season because I don't think that was possible,' Webber said. 'Plus, because the way the team is playing, the chemistry is great with these guys, they're on a roll. I feel like they're going to win, they have a great chance to go very far in the playoffs. I just felt it was time to let the game go and be able to be happy about what I accomplished without trying to keep coming back.'" Undone by knee injuries, longtime NBA forward Chris Webber calls it quits. (He had recently returned to the Golden State Warriors.)

I always liked C-Webb, and wish he'd won a ring with one of the early-00's Sacramento outfits. On the debit side of the ledger, there's his unfortunate timeout and, more importantly, his criminal contempt plea in his perjury trial (concerning loans he received from a booster while at Michigan.) But, still, you have to have some respect for a guy who parlays his NBA millions into an impressive and widely-circulated African-American history collection (probably the coolest basketball-related public project this side of fellow Warrior alum Adonal Foyle's campaign finance reform group.)

"As easy as it is for those of us who are white to look back and say 'That's a terrible statement!' ... I grew up in a very segregated South. And I think that you have to cut some slack -- and I'm gonna be probably the only conservative in America who's gonna say something like this, but I'm just tellin' you -- we've gotta cut some slack to people who grew up being called names, being told 'you have to sit in the balcony when you go to the movie. You have to go to the back door to go into the restaurant...And you know what? Sometimes people do have a chip on their shoulder and resentment. And you have to just say, I probably would too. I probably would too. In fact, I may have had more of a chip on my shoulder had it been me." Jeremiah Wright is defended by a brother from across the pew, Mike Huckabee. Gotta say, I don't agree with basically any of Huckabee's policy positions, but, he can be a seriously likable guy at times (even if he did fold a defense of Falwell into his remarks.)

In the wake of the Wright controversy, Sen. Obama delivers a thoughtful and nuanced speech on race in America. Video below:

Now, on one hand, I sorta wish Sen. Obama had never had to give this speech, that we were as far along with regard to race in this country as it had first seemed after Iowa. That being said, since events of recent days in particular have suggested how far we still have to go on the racial recrimination front, this speech was both a necessary and important one. It's been garnering rave reviews across the political spectrum, and I'd throw my hat in there too -- my main quibble with the address is that Obama wrote it himself. C'mon, Sen. Obama, think of the speechwriters. When political leaders write speeches as memorable and moving as this one, it's going to put a lot of people out of work!

Seriously, tho', I thought the address moved beyond soundbites to give a substantive and nuanced view of race in America, the type of which we haven't heard in this country from a politician in a very long time. (I particularly like the Faulknerian flourish on the legacy of history.) And it -- in true Obama form -- showed that the Senator has an understanding of the grievances on both sides of the racial divide, and went out of its way to establish that Ferraro and Wright were two manifestations of the same intrinsic problem. Like TNR's Michael Crowley, I am somewhat concerned about whether the nuance of his message will come through to undecided voters, once the Hardballs, Hannitys, and Blitzers are done with it. Still, today's address was the type of leadership moment that I frankly can't see either Sen. Clinton or Sen. McCain providing, and it showed once again how much our country stands to gain by electing Sen. Barack Obama our next president in November. Black, white, latino, or asian, leaders this wise, intelligent, thoughtful, and inspiring do not come along often.

"This Fourth of July is yours, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn...your celebration is a sham; your boasted liberty, an unholy license; your national greatness, swelling vanity; your sound of rejoicing are empty and heartless; your denunciation of tyrants brass fronted impudence; your shout of liberty and equality, hollow mockery; your prayers and hymns, your sermons and thanks-givings, with all your religious parade and solemnity, are to him, mere bombast, fraud, deception, impiety, and hypocrisy -- a thin veil to cover up crimes which would disgrace a nation of savages. There is not a nation on the earth guilty of practices more shocking and bloody than are the people of the United States, at this very hour."

Breaking news! As an eagle-eyed commenter at TPM discovered, it appears one Frederick Douglass, an orator of some repute in the African-American community, and one whom Senator Clinton has called "one of my heroes" and "a great American," actually despises our great nation, and has given public remarks filled with hate-mongering toward patriotic Americans.

I for one was planning to vote for Senator Clinton, but now I am very concerned. She should reject and denounce this fellow Douglass immediately, although it may be too late. After reading this, I totally feel Clinton is not proud of America and I fear where she would lead this country.

Update: All kidding aside, Sen. Obama gave some eloquent remarks on the politics of division in Indiana today, citing RFK's elegy for MLK in Indianapolis. "I just want to say to everybody here that as somebody who was born into a diverse family, as somebody who has little pieces of America all in me, I will not allow us to lose this moment, where we cannot forget about our past and not ignore the very real forces of racial inequality and gender inequality and the other things that divide us. We have to come together. That’s what this campaign is about. That’s why you are here. That’s why we're going to win this election. That’s how we're going to change the country."

Excerpted from Sen. Barack Obama's speech at Ebenezer Baptist Church yesterday. Worth reading in its entirety. Update: Or watch it here.

Update: John Nichols of The Nation gushes: "This is the speech Obama has needed to deliver. This is the speech America has been waiting for since that awful and glorious spring of 1968. Barack Obama has found the language for a politics that transforms rather than merely transitions. He should not retreat from the mountaintop. He should hold the rhetorical ground he has finally captured, and call us to join him upon it." Hear, hear.

"Since the birth of our nation change has been won by young presidents and young leaders who have shown that experience is not defined by time in Washington and years in office. It is defined by wisdom and instinct and vision...The only charge that rings false is the one that tells you not to hope for a better America. Don't let anyone tell you to accept the downsizing of the American dream." Barack Obama picks up a few more endorsements in Sen. John Kerry (and more importantly, his voter list and organization), South Dakota Senators Tim Johnson and Tom Daschle, and Congressman George Miller (which some see as a nod from Speaker Pelosi, although Pelosi clarified again today that she plans not to endorse anyone.) In the meantime, while a new poll has Obama up 12 in South Carolina (not that polls mean much anymore, of course), South Carolina's leading Democrat (and my old congressman) Jim Clyburn still hasn't officially picked his candidate. "Clyburn, continuing to be coy about his endorsement, often tells reporters that he’s made up his mind, but never offers a name. Most signs, though, point to Obama."

Update: "To call that dream [of an Obama presidency] a fairy tale, which Bill Clinton seemed to be doing, could very well be insulting to some of us." No official word yet, but Clyburn suggests again he's leaning Obama now, in part because of the Clintons' dismaying behavior in New Hampshire. Speaking of Senator Clinton's enthronement of LBJ as the civil rights ideal: "'We have to be very, very careful about how we speak about that era in American politics,' said Mr. Clyburn, who was shaped by his searing experiences as a youth in the segregated South and his own activism in those days. 'It is one thing to run a campaign and be respectful of everyone’s motives and actions, and it is something else to denigrate those. That bothered me a great deal.'"

Update 2: I posted more about Clyburn's remarks -- and Clinton's view of history -- here.

"'What does that mean, false hopes?' he said at Claremont, the start of a 720-word summation about 'false hope' he repeated almost word for word during the day. 'How have we made progress in this country? Look, did John F. Kennedy look at the moon and say, 'Ah, it's too far?' We can't do that. We need a reality check. Dr. King standing on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. 'You know, this dream thing, it's a false hope. We can't expect equality.' 'False hopes. Let me tell you something about hope. I do talk about hope quite a bit. Out of necessity. There is no oddsmaker who would have said that I would be standing here when I was born in 1961.'" Invoking JFK and MLK, Obama turns Clinton's dismaying "false hopes" barb into campaign music. (And, hey, Al Smith is in there too: "We are happy warriors for change," Obama cried at a rally in Lebanon.")

For her part, Senator Clinton also went to the historical analogy well of late and came back with...Lyndon Johnson? "'Dr. King's dream began to be realized when President Johnson passed the Civil Rights Act,' Clinton said. 'It took a president to get it done.'" (One of her introducers took it all a bit far and brought up Kennedy's murder: "'Some people compare one of the other candidates to John F. Kennedy. But he was assassinated. And Lyndon Baines Johnson was the one who actually' passed the civil rights legislation." As my sister-in-law Lotta also noted recently, Not Cool.) At any rate, Clinton's factual grasp of history is basically sound, if dismayingly top-heavy. In the inspiration department, however, LBJ probably isn't going to get it done.

So, sorry to regale y'all with another long-winded, bloviating political post only two entries after the last one. But Ted of The Late Adopter asked an important follow-up to my comments on David Greenberg's Obama piece and public-interest progressivism, namely: "If FDR, Stevenson, the Kennedys all spoke with the rhetoric of citizenship, when did the Democrats stop? With Johnson? Carter? During the 80s while trying to oppose Reagan?" And, while trying to respond in the comment section, I apparently blathered on so long that I broke the site. ("Access Denied with Code 406....severity [EMERGENCY]") So, I'm posting my response as an entry instead (and there's precedent for this anyway, as when Scully and I discussed the space program a few years ago.) So, if you find this all ponderous and insufferable, feel free to skip down to the previous entry, where I raved on at equal length about Todd Haynes' I'm Not There (10/10!) And I promise to get back to more concise entries again soon...

Reagan aside, I do respectfully take issue with Greenberg's prior Slate piece comparing Obama to a long list of well-meaning losers, including Adlai Stevenson and Bill Bradley. Greenberg writes: "Obama exhibits other elements of this Stevensonian style as well. It's a style -- an ideology, really -- that links the quest for common ground with a language of enlightened reason. It disdains the passionate and sometimes ugly politics of backroom deals, negative campaigning, sordid tactics, and appeals to emotion. It extols sacrifice and denigrates self-interest...What he doesn't seem to understand -- as Stevenson did not -- is that democratic politics fairly demands a measure of thrust and parry, of appeals to self-interest, and of playing the political game. And so does being a good president."

I would argue that these constant appeals to individual self-interest is exactly what's what wrong with Democrats today. Put simply, our civic life has nearly wasted away, with devastating consequences for the Left in this country.The major operative question our politics seeks to answer today is not "How should we live?" or "What can we accomplish together?" but "Where's my stuff?" And, due to this narrow, limiting absorption with individual self-interest, lefty candidates of late have mostly based their proactive appeals on small-minded ideas like bribing elderly voters with prescription drug benefits and everyone else with tax cuts. That's it? That's all you've got?

As a result, more and more citizens are tuning out of the process completely. Without vision, the people perish. People find the grasping individualism at the center of politics today inherently unsatisfying, and they look for a deeper common purpose wherever they can find it. And, since Democrats too often can't stop speaking in uninspiring technocratic policy-wonk, a consequence of their limited vision and ambitions, voters have been inclining in recent years toward the GOP, who at least offer a flawed but workable story, often rooted in gung-ho nationalism and unpacked ideas like "Freedom, Yeah!", about who we are as a people. The story is everything (which is one main reason why I was drawn to American history in the first place.) To be successful, to be anything other than GOP-lite -- a pathetic state we've been floundering in for decades -- Democrats need to tell the nation a story about our shared history and our shared goals, and stop pandering to voters' immediate self-interest all the live-long day.

Greenberg may argue that civic-mindedness in a political candidate is the province of losers, but I disagree -- It's all in the telling. After all, it was the extremely popular John F. Kennedy who reminded us to ask what you can do for your country, and his slain brother RFK obviously talked a great game in that respect too.

In this piece, Greenberg also discusses the retreat from the "the Mugwumps' and Progressives' moral uplift in favor of a pragmatic approach" under FDR. (This is also the ground my dissertation covers.) And, yes, the broker-state model of governance honed by the New Deal worked for a long time. More importantly, the idea of interest-group pluralism it cultivated has had many critically important successes to its name, not the least the civil rights revolutions of the past few decades (although those too have a strong civic component -- MLK's "I Have a Dream" speech makes it explicit: "I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed...And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true." This is not the language of self-interest but an appeal to a shared narrative as Americans.)

But I would argue that the enthronement of individual self-interest above all else in politics has reached its logical endpoint, and as a result our system is on the verge of falling apart -- half the country doesn't vote, money constantly bends the rules and everyone knows it, people are losing the inclination (or even the capacity) to act as informed, independent citizens. Indeed, you could argue Hillary Clinton's failure with health care reform in the nineties exemplified the problem with broker-state leadership: When setting out to confront the issue, the Clintons cut everyone in on the deal, from insurance companies to HMOS to the AMA, in true broker-state fashion. As a result, no reform at all was forthcoming.

This was mainly because, as I've said before, the individualistic/broker state model of liberalism has no theory for coping with corporate power -- It serves the wants, needs, and interests of consumers, what's wrong with that? But a civic-minded progressive would argue that there are more important goals than the sating of individual desire, that the government is an expression of our common aspirations and should be more than just a dispensing machine, and that undue corporate influence over -- and outright corruption in -- our political affairs in fact represents a dire threat to the republic and to our way of life.

The progressive idea of citizenship both offers and demands higher aspirations of people than the lowest common denominator of individual self-interest that both parties appeal to today. We're fast becoming a society where freedom is measured at best by what choices we make, but more often by what we can own as consumers. Progressives envison a society where freedom is also measured by what we can accomplish as citizens. Ultimately, freedom isn't a state of being -- it's a state of becoming, of improvement, of progress. A political candidate who could tap into this progressive vein, I think, could inspire people like they haven't been inspired by politics in a good long while. So, this is my crux of disagreement with Greenberg here -- I don't subscribe to the notion that common-good, public-interest progressivism is inherently a losing proposition. Quite the contrary.

Still, Greenberg's article does a solid job of delineating the origins of Obama's progressive appeal, and, at the very least, we agree that Obama is considerably more progressive than Clinton.

"The upshot was that by 1980, race and ideology had become so commingled that one's stand on racial issues served as a proxy for one's partisan preference. Previously, economic issues had been the chief dividing line between the parties. By 1980, though, according to the Edsalls, the changes that followed the civil rights movement had crystallized, and racial politics figured just as strongly." Slate's resident historian David Greenberg weighs in on the recent furor at the NYT (and elsewhere) over Ronald Reagan's 1980 campaign kickoff speech in Philadelphia, Mississippi, site of the 1964 Schwerner-Chaney-Goodman murders. (Coincidence? Sheah.) Therein, Greenberg correctly and succinctly argues that Reagan's "I believe in states' rights" was, in an apt turn of phrase, "a dog whistle to segregationists."

Honestly, I'm not really sure how you could dispute this, unless you want to argue that Reagan and his political handlers were completely ignorant about the civil rights struggle, massive resistance, and the significance of Philadelphia, Miss. in those struggles. (Of course, then you'd have to explain how Reagan remained blissfully unaware of the fact his 1966 gubernatorial bid often relied on similar loaded language.) Was Reagan a racist? I dunno, that's not the issue. Did Reagan rely on coded racial messages to appeal to white conservatives, akin to what Dubya does these days with pro-lifers and Dred Scott? Obviously.

"In The Atlantic's very first issue, in 1857, the magazine's founders -- an illustrious group that included Ralph Waldo Emerson, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and James Russell Lowell -- declared that they would dedicate their new publication to monitoring the development, and advancing the cause, of what they called 'the American idea.' And for the last century and a half, the magazine has been preoccupied with the fundamental subjects of the American experience: war and peace, science and religion, the conundrum of race, the role of women, the plight of the cities, the struggle to preserve the environment, the strengths and failings of our politics, and especially, America's proper place in the world." To commemorate the magazine's 150th anniversary, The Atlantic Monthly publishes The American Idea, an anthology of articles which includes republished writings by TR, W.E.B. DuBois, Albert Einstein, John Muir, Helen Keller, and Vannevar Bush. (Alas, only ten of the included articles are online.)

Fifty years ago, high above Earth, Sputnik signalled a new era for mankind. But on the ground in Little Rock, Arkansas, where nine black students were jeered mercilessly, the prospects for Humanity didn't seem as sanguine. By way of Do You Feel Loved and to commemorate the fiftieth anniversary of the desegregation of Litle Rock Central High, Vanity Fair's David Margolick tells the sad but illuminating story of Elizabeth Eckford (of the Little Rock 9) and Hazel Bryan (her tormentor in the pic at right.) "[T]he picture belongs to Elizabeth and Hazel, and for them it set off a drama that has never really ended. Bound together in fame and misfortune, they have tried, separately and together, to escape the frame. After a brief and well-photographed pseudo-reconciliation 10 years ago, the two are once more incommunicado, living only a few miles, and a cultural chasm, apart."

Well, it may seem like they've been going at it for awhile now...nevertheless, the first official Democratic primary debate was held last night, co-sponsored by the good folks at CNN and YouTube. [Transcript.] (As you likely heard, this gimmick this time was that the questions were submitted by Youtube users the nation over. All in all, they turned out to be a mixed bag, but no more or less cutting than the ones usually conjured up by George Stephanopoulos, Anderson Cooper, or some other venerable talking head of the moment. Still, not a single query on campaign finance reform managed to sneak through the vetters...so now, I kinda wish I had at least tried to submit one.)

And the verdict this time? Well, no one broke out of the pack as a result of their performance last night, which -- the talking heads tell me (hey, David Gergen's gotta eat) -- means a win for Clinton. But, as with the past few debates, I still find my position further solidifying in favor of Obama and Edwards, and against the Senator from New York. (My reasons have been put forth previously here and here.) In fact, the most irritating moment of the debate for me, and I'll admit that this'll be considered well beyond stupid and pedantic to most people, was Senator Clinton's butchering of the distinction between "liberal" and "progressive" to contort her way out of having to name herself the former. For what it's worth, the key element of a turn-of-the-century progressive was never "someone who believes strongly in individual rights and freedoms" -- that would be a liberal. Indeed, arguably the major flaw in the progressive movement -- until after WWI -- was its inattentiveness to individual rights and freedoms...hence, Prohibition, or, to take an even more sordid example, the proliferation of Jim Crow in the South.

But, more importantly, and this is what really irked me, Hillary Clinton has proven herself to be the least progressive of the Democratic candidates, in that she's been the most willing to get into bed with corporate interests time and time again. (And, for you historians reading this, yes, I'm calling shenanigans on Kolko.)

Ok, I'll concede, Clinton can't honestly be expected to deliver a comprehensive historical disquisition about liberalism v. progressivism in a 45-second debate answer. But, please don't chalk up my concern simply to being an aggrieved aspiring egghead just yet. (And, hey, speaking of parochial, Obama mentioned my hometown, Florence, SC, tonight, albeit not in a positive light. But I digress again.) The fact is, the differences between liberalism and progressivism do matter, particularly when you consider [a] how often politicians in our party seem confused, or even ignorant, about the Left's guiding political philosophies these days, and [b] how different a truly progressive presidential candidate would seem from what Hillary Clinton has yet offered us.

Most importantly, a true "modern progressive" would push campaign finance reform, ethics in government, and voting reform though the heavens fall. These are hardly central tenets of the Clinton campaign, to say the least. And, along with the obvious necessities of a sane, competent, foreign policy, accessible, affordable health care, and comprehensively reworked environmental and energy plans, a real "modern progressive" would also extol education, civics reform, universal (if not mandatory) service, community-building, a vast increase in arts and science funding, an end to child poverty...all ways to help renew the bonds of citizenship, to help encourage an active, engaged, self-governing electorate, and to help foster a new generation of Americans more attuned and responsive to the concerns of their fellow men and women -- here and around the globe -- than they are to the self-absorbed and increasingly inescapable dictates of rapacious consumerism and the corporate bottom line.

It's late, and I've clearly started soapboxing. Still, what I wrote back in 2000 here, before I came to Columbia, still holds: "I know it all sounds a bit academic and removed from reality, but, what can I say? This is where my idealism (or what vestiges of it that survive this election cycle) lies." Well, it's been a few election cycles since then, and in many other ways the years since have not been kind, in terms of progressivism or otherwise. I'd very much like to continue indulging in "the audacity of hope" when it comes to such matters -- I know it's way early in the game, and that we're probably still at least a good 3 or 4 "Macaca moments" out before this all gets decided. But increasingly, and particularly after listening to these debates thus far and the virtual Clinton coronation by the talking heads thereafter, other quotes often come to mind as well. For example: "Look for your friends, but do not trust to hope. It has forsaken these lands."

I'm not saying Clinton would make a terrible president -- Obviously, she'd be much better than the current fiasco of an administration. (But, as always, who wouldn't be?) But I do increasingly fear her tenure -- if it's marked by the same confused, wishy-washy and corporate-friendly Republican-lite "centrism" her campaign and the DLC have pushed in the past -- will make for yet another missed opportunity in terms of fostering real progressive change in this country. (And Senator Clinton, to get to the point: I know progressives. I've spent the past six years and change studying progressives. And, you, Madam, have been no progressive.)

The 2007 Pulitzers are announced: Cormac McCarthy wins the fiction prize for The Road; Lawrence Wright's The Looming Tower: Al Qaeda and the Road to 9/11 takes non-fiction; Gene Roberts and Hank Klibanoff win the history prize for The Race Beat: The Press, the Civil Rights Struggle, and the Awakening of a Nation, and Debby Applegate's biography The Most Famous Man in America: The Biography of Henry Ward Beecher wins in that category. Congrats to all.

"This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning." Ground is broken on the new MLK memorial, to be "built along the edge of the Tidal Basin, midway between monuments to Thomas Jefferson and Abraham Lincoln. It will be the first on the Mall honoring an African American and the first that does not memorialize a president or a war hero." Great! As I've said before in this space, I'm all in favor of adding more historically-themed monuments to the Mall, and a tribute to Dr. King seems a particularly worthy addition to our nation's central gathering place.

"'I gave blood,' Mr. Lewis said, his voice rising, as he stood alongside photographs of the clash. 'Some of my colleagues gave their very lives.'" Publicly embarrassed by their recent lapse into old-school "massive resistance," (and no doubt chagrined by their dismal poll numbers), the House GOP get their act together enough to pass the Voting Rights Act extension 390-33, after giving fringe right-wingers the chance to vote up or down on a few poison-pill amendments. (All failed, thanks to the Dems.) Still, several southern conservatives are not appeased: "One of the 33 holdouts was Rep. Patrick T. McHenry (R-N.C.). 'Some politicians in Washington wouldn't dare vote against this bill because they'd be lambasted by the media and liberal interest groups.'"

And the GOP veil of moderation didn't just slip on economic policy yesterday: Southern conservatives actually spiked a renewal of the 1965 Voting Rights Act in order to protest multilingual ballots, as well as the (well-earned) perception that the South still disenfranchises African-Americans. "Barbara Arnwine, executive director of the Lawyers' Committee for Civil Rights Under Law, said a bipartisan commission found evidence of recent voting rights violations in Georgia, Texas and several other states. 'These are not states that can say their hands are clean,' she said."

"When you have a deep enough infection and you just open it up a little bit and let air get to it to heal over, it will come back. It will keep coming back until you open it up and you let it heal from the inside out." The city of Waco, Texas attempts to come to terms with its local history of lynching.

"In his conversation with Robert Kennedy, King refused to heed an appeal for moderation: 'I am different from my father. I feel the need of being free now.' This impatience for freedom, acted out by the courageous young Freedom Riders, helped propel a reluctant America at least part of the way down the road to racial justice." In the same NYT Book Review as the Brinkley piece posted on Monday, Columbia's Eric Foner favorably reviews Raymond Arsenault's Freedom Riders: 1961 and the Struggle for Racial Justice. And, also in history news, the AP profiles historian, Dylanologist, and recent Bancroft winner Sean Wilentz. "There isn't much that's gone wrong with the country's institutions that a good election can't cure. Or a few good elections. So I have a kind of willful optimism."

"If you are going to tell people the truth, you'd better make them laugh. Otherwise they'll kill you." This savvy George Bernard Shaw quote introduces Kevin Willmott's razor-sharp documentary-satire C.S.A.: The Confederate States of America, which opened at the IFC Center tonight (followed by a Q&A), and, by that measure, Willmott's film is a rousing success. At times both blisteringly funny and quietly devastating, C.S.A is a take-no-prisoners alternate history of our Confederacy -- Yep, the South won -- done in the style of Ken Burns' The Civil War (or Andy Bobrow's Old Negro Space Program), right down to bizarro versions of Shelby Foote and Barbara Fields. Punctuated throughout by offbeat television commercials that are eerily similar to today's TV, C.S.A. is one of the best (and most ruthless and unflinching) satires I've seen in some time. And it illuminates a central fact often obscured in so many Brother-against-Brother tributes to America's bloodiest conflict (as well as drek like Gods and Generals): The Civil War was begun and fought over slavery. In the words of C.S.A. Vice-President Alexander Stephens -- in his inaugural address, no less -- the Confederacy was founded "upon the great truth that the negro is not equal to the white man; that slavery --subordination to the superior race -- is his natural and normal condition."

To kick off its conceit, C.S.A requires that you make two leaps of logic from the history of the Civil War: First, that, after the Emancipation Proclamation is issued, C.S.A. Secretary of State Judah P. Benjamin managed to convince England and France to join the war on the side of the Confederacy. (This was less likely, I think, than the film makes it out to be. Popular support in England -- who had abolished slavery in 1833 -- was pretty clearly on the side of the Union, particularly after Lincoln's Proclamation, and "King Cotton diplomacy" just wasn't going to work when England and France could import cotton instead from India, Egypt, and other waystations in their respective empires. And, even if the European powers had recognized the CSA, which they might've done had the South won more battles, they weren't about to send troops across the Atlantic to fight on the side of slavery without severe popular repercussions.) Second, and more unlikely, is that, after capturing Washington DC, the South managed to subdue and annex the entire North, leveling Boston and Philadelphia (a la Sherman's March) in the process. Even despite the Union's hold on the Mississippi in the Western theater, the South might well have won the war, if Northern public opinion had collapsed in 1863 and 1864 (As it was, timely Union victories -- and particularly the fall of Atlanta -- buoyed Lincoln's reelection.) But, had that happened, IMHO, there would likely be two nations uneasily living side by side for decades to come, as you find in Harry Turtledove's How Few Remain series.

Ok, all that history geekery notwithstanding (which is somewhat unfair to the movie -- it's an alternate history satire, after all, which also explains the more recognizable battle flag replacing the official Stars and Bars on the moon and elsewhere), once you make the conceptual leap that the Confederacy managed to win the war and annex the Union, the rest of C.S.A is remarkably well-thought-out, and at times even scarily plausible. Like Jeff Davis, Lincoln is captured trying to escape in costume (on the Underground Railroad) and sent to Fort Monroe -- Here, it's dramatized in the 1915 D.W. Griffith film, The Hunt for Dishonest Abe. While the South contemplates various "Reconstruction" plans to reintroduce slavery to the North (and Nathan Bedford Forrest reenacts Fort Pillow over and over again), William Lloyd Garrison leads an abolitionist/transcendentalist contingent to Canada. Rather than the Chinese Exclusion Act, the C.S.A. passes a "Yellow Peril Mandate" providing for the enslaving of Chinese laborers. And, as in our world, the nation comes together again to fight a (here much broader) Spanish-American War.

As we get to the 20th century, C.S.A. continues to adroitly riff on American history. Audiences swarm to the Civil War musical, A Northern Wind. ("You tried to take my blacks, But I still want you back.") In WWII, the C.S.A. plays nice with Germany while despising Japan. (Thanks to the service of Judah Benjamin, Jews can still live in the Confederacy, provided they stay on their "reservation" in Long Island.) Eventually, an armed, highly defended border -- the "Cotton Curtain" -- descends between Canada and the C.S.A., and '50's Confederates scour the nation for the "Abs" (abolitionists) in their midst. Later still, slave riots break out in Newark, Watts, and elsewhere in the turbulent '60s, as many white Confederates reconsider slavery (due to global sanctions, give or take South Africa) and women begin to demand the vote.

Equally as nimble as the mirror-image counterhistory of the CSA are the many commercial breaks throughout the fake documentary, with ads that are both jaw-droppingly brazen and laugh-out-loud funny. (You can get a sense of this from the trailer -- Think Spike Lee's Bamboozled, itself an excellent satire, to the nth degree.) They range from fake ads for unfortunately real products (Darky Toothpaste, Coon Chicken Inn) to all-too-possible modern innovations -- The Slave Shopping Network, a LoJack "Shackle", a Claritin-ish drug to treat drapetomania (the runaway disease "discovered" by Dr. Samuel Cartwright in 1851), a COPS-style show called RUNAWAYS, etc. etc. As you can see, this is withering stuff, and some might find it in horrible taste. But, there's method to CSA's madness. As I noted before, we tend to do a pitiful job of facing up to slavery, America's Original Sin, and for ninety hilarious, cringeworthy minutes, CSA forces us to look the peculiar institution square in the eye. If we're serious about our proclaimed role as a Beacon of Freedom to the world, that's something we need to start doing a lot more often. (But, don't worry -- C.S.A. sweetens this tonic with quite a few laughs.) At any rate, if it's anywhere near you, definitely go check it out.

A quick book bash: I wasn't going to write about Philip Roth's The Plot against America, which I read a few weeks ago, until seeing C.S.A tonight crystallized my problems with it. I should say up front that I run hot and cold on Roth -- I quite liked Portnoy and American Pastoral, but kinda loathed Goodbye, Columbus. And, while The Plot Against America is getting good reviews all around, I had a strongly adverse reaction to it. For those of you who haven't heard anything about it, Plot describes an alternate USA in which famed aviator and rabid isolationist Charles Lindbergh defeats FDR in 1940, makes peace with Hitler, and begins a pogrom of sorts against Jewish-Americans, forcibly enrolling Jewish children (including the narrator's brother) in Americanization programs and, eventually, attempting to relocate Jewish families to the Midwest. As per Roth's usual m.o., the tale is told from the perspective of a Newark family trying to find their way -- not very successfully -- amid the deteriorating events.

As alternate histories go, it's a great idea for a book, and I was really looking forward to seeing what Roth did with it. But, unlike CSA, which clearly showed an attentiveness to both what happened and what might have happened, Roth here has written an alternate history without seeming to give a whit about the history. In short, I found the book stunningly, almost narcissisticly, myopic. One gets the sense from reading Plot that the rift beween Jews and Gentiles in America was not only the most significant but the only ethnic or cultural schism in FDR's America. This is not to say anti-semitism wasn't rampant and widespread at the time -- Of course it was, as attested by Father Coughlin, Breckinridge Long, and Lindbergh himself, who -- in a speech that tarnished his reputation much more than Roth lets on -- blamed support for the war on the "large ownership and influence [of Jews] in our motion pictures, our press, our radio, and our Government." But, in The Plot Against America, no one else seems to even exist besides Jews and (White) Gentiles -- To take the two most notable examples, there's no mention of the fact that Africans-Americans were being lynched in staggering numbers in this period (the only lynching mentioned is that of Leo Frank), or that we actually did intern Japanese-Americans during the war. (As a point of contrast, C.S.A.'s central thesis is about slavery, but it moves beyond white-black relations to explore, or at least reference, the place of Asians, Latinos, and gay Americans in the new Confederate system.)

This isn't about tokenism -- it's about doing justice to the people and the history of the period you're writing about. And, frankly, the history in The Plot Against America strains credulity time and time again. I'll skip over the final twist so as not to give it away, and because it's so ridiculously implausible that Roth couldn't have intended for us to take it seriously. But, even despite that, Lindbergh's popularity -- and the public's taste for isolationism -- by 1940 seem significantly overstated throughout. (To take one example, there is no way that the Solid Democratic South would up and vote GOP that year -- With the Civil War only recently out of living memory, the Dems could've run a wet paper bag in the South, so long as it wasn't of the party of Lincoln and didn't threaten to upset the Jim Crow racial order. That didn't even begin to change until Strom in '48.) And, while Walter Winchell plays a large role here in calling out the Nazi-American pact and resulting Jewish pogrom, he seems to be the only public figure in America doing so. Where's everyone else? It doesn't make sense.

Finally (and I'll admit, this really ticked me off), Plot basically commits a character assassination of progressive/isolationist Burton Wheeler of Montana, who here appears as Lindbergh's Vice-President (or, more to the point, his Cheney -- I'm assuming that's what Roth was getting at.) At a certain point in Plot, we're supposed to believe that Wheeler -- a guy who refused to prosecute alleged dissenters as Montana Attorney General during the hysteria of WWI, helped lead the investigation into the government corruption of Teapot Dome, and turned on FDR because he thought court-packing was an unconstitutional powergrab -- is going to, out-of-the-blue, declare martial law and start rounding people up? That makes zero sense, and is, in effect, a slander on a real historical figure. Roth is obviously one of America's most gifted writers -- but, lordy, I thought The Plot Against America needed more research, more attention to historical nuance, and more sense that injustice and suffering in this country has often run along more than one axis of discrimination.

"Hate is too great a burden to bear. It injures the hater more than it injures the hated." Coretta Scott King, 1927-2006. Said Rep. John Lewis today, ""She was the glue that held the civil rights movement together."

In related news, a site is chosen for the National Museum of African American History and Culture (at 14th and Constitution NW, near the Washington Monument.) As I argued before, some museum along such lines on our nation's Mall is long overdue.