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A review by brianlokker
A More Beautiful and Terrible History: The Uses and Misuses of Civil Rights History by Jeanne Theoharis
3.0
In this important book, Professor Harris argues that the common and “official” narrative of the civil rights movement in the United States is wrong—she calls it a “fable.” The fable is neatly summarized in Julian Bond’s quip: “Rosa sat down, Martin stood up, then the white folks saw the light and saved the day.” In other words, after a couple of high-profile actions by a couple of well-known leaders, the white majority embraced the cause and everything changed.
Theoharis explores numerous ways in which this narrative is false, including, among others, the following: The common view that the civil rights movement was confined to the South, because it was only necessary in the South, ignores the racism in the North and other parts of the country, which led to school boycotts and other struggles. The idea that the movement consisted of the well-known boycotts, marches, riots, and other events of the 1950s and 1960s obscures the long history of activism that preceded them. The popular view that “fat Southern sheriffs” and other bigoted Southerners were the only people who kept Black people down lets a lot of people off the hook, even white liberals whose complacency gave silent assent to racist systems. The notion that the media lent its support to the movement and helped popularize it is wrong, especially as it pertains to the early years, when the media largely supported the status quo. And, most tellingly, the identification of the movement with Martin Luther King, Jr., Rosa Parks, and a few other leaders ignores the longstanding and essential activism of the Black community as a whole.
Theoharis notes that the national narrative of U.S. civil rights history frames the movement as a part of history, a struggle in the past, the success of which entitles us to self-congratulation. In this telling, civil rights progress demonstrates America’s essential goodness. “A movement that had challenged the very fabric of US politics and society was turned into one that demonstrated how great and expansive the country was—a story of individual bravery, natural evolution, and the long march to ‘a more perfect union.’” For many people, the success of the movement was demonstrated by Barack Obama’s election, which “made many of his supporters feel like we had overcome.”
Theoharis makes it clear that her critique is intended not only to set the historical record straight as an academic matter, but also to demonstrate that current expressions of the struggle, such as Black Live Matter, are consistent with the true history of the movement. She argues that the fable that America tells itself is dangerous. It’s easy to be complacent if we believe the struggle is essentially over and little or nothing more needs to be done. And with a sanitized vision of the past, it becomes easier to demonize BLM and other activists now because they are allegedly “not like Martin” or “not like Rosa.”
There are many important ideas in this book, and I learned a lot by reading it. I especially enjoyed and learned from the sections about Rosa Parks (Theoharis has also written a political biography of Rosa Parks), Coretta Scott King, and the women who were marginalized at the March on Washington, as well as about some of the school boycotts in Boston, New York, Los Angeles, and elsewhere. And the final chapter, in which she summarizes ten lessons to be learned from the true history of the civil rights movement, is excellent.
On the negative side, I found the book to be somewhat repetitious (even to the point of repeating quotes) and unnecessarily polemical. To cite one small example of the latter, Theoharis notes that former FBI Director James Comey initiated the practice of including a visit to the Martin Luther King Jr., Memorial and a discussion of a King quote in FBI agent training, in order to help understand what happens when power is abused. But instead of giving Comey some credit for this initiative and discussing it in more detail, she just dismisses it and complains that it’s inadequate for understanding how abuse of power occurs.
With those caveats, I recommend the book as a worthwhile resource for understanding the history of the U.S. civil rights movement.
Theoharis explores numerous ways in which this narrative is false, including, among others, the following: The common view that the civil rights movement was confined to the South, because it was only necessary in the South, ignores the racism in the North and other parts of the country, which led to school boycotts and other struggles. The idea that the movement consisted of the well-known boycotts, marches, riots, and other events of the 1950s and 1960s obscures the long history of activism that preceded them. The popular view that “fat Southern sheriffs” and other bigoted Southerners were the only people who kept Black people down lets a lot of people off the hook, even white liberals whose complacency gave silent assent to racist systems. The notion that the media lent its support to the movement and helped popularize it is wrong, especially as it pertains to the early years, when the media largely supported the status quo. And, most tellingly, the identification of the movement with Martin Luther King, Jr., Rosa Parks, and a few other leaders ignores the longstanding and essential activism of the Black community as a whole.
Theoharis notes that the national narrative of U.S. civil rights history frames the movement as a part of history, a struggle in the past, the success of which entitles us to self-congratulation. In this telling, civil rights progress demonstrates America’s essential goodness. “A movement that had challenged the very fabric of US politics and society was turned into one that demonstrated how great and expansive the country was—a story of individual bravery, natural evolution, and the long march to ‘a more perfect union.’” For many people, the success of the movement was demonstrated by Barack Obama’s election, which “made many of his supporters feel like we had overcome.”
Theoharis makes it clear that her critique is intended not only to set the historical record straight as an academic matter, but also to demonstrate that current expressions of the struggle, such as Black Live Matter, are consistent with the true history of the movement. She argues that the fable that America tells itself is dangerous. It’s easy to be complacent if we believe the struggle is essentially over and little or nothing more needs to be done. And with a sanitized vision of the past, it becomes easier to demonize BLM and other activists now because they are allegedly “not like Martin” or “not like Rosa.”
There are many important ideas in this book, and I learned a lot by reading it. I especially enjoyed and learned from the sections about Rosa Parks (Theoharis has also written a political biography of Rosa Parks), Coretta Scott King, and the women who were marginalized at the March on Washington, as well as about some of the school boycotts in Boston, New York, Los Angeles, and elsewhere. And the final chapter, in which she summarizes ten lessons to be learned from the true history of the civil rights movement, is excellent.
On the negative side, I found the book to be somewhat repetitious (even to the point of repeating quotes) and unnecessarily polemical. To cite one small example of the latter, Theoharis notes that former FBI Director James Comey initiated the practice of including a visit to the Martin Luther King Jr., Memorial and a discussion of a King quote in FBI agent training, in order to help understand what happens when power is abused. But instead of giving Comey some credit for this initiative and discussing it in more detail, she just dismisses it and complains that it’s inadequate for understanding how abuse of power occurs.
With those caveats, I recommend the book as a worthwhile resource for understanding the history of the U.S. civil rights movement.