A few weeks ago Dr. Lonnie Bunch visited the Valley of the Sun and ASU. My colleague Matt Whitaker and I had the opportunity to sit down with him for a few hours. As many of you may know, Dr. Bunch is the founding director of the National Museum of African American History and Culture, which plans to open its doors in 2015 … which happens to be the 150th anniversary of the ratification of the Thirteenth Amendment. This was no coincidence, as Dr. Bunch assured me. During our conversation, I noted that I had read his response in the new Washington Post Civil War blog when asked about the best new book on the Civil War. He answered by pointing to a new book on Reconstruction, Stephen Budiansky’s The Bloody Shirt: Terror After Appomattox. After all, Dr. Bunch reasoned, the war didn’t end in 1865, and what the war achieved, even for the generation that fought it, was not defined for another dozen years.
Now, Mr, Budiansky’s book is not the first one to point this out, and if I’d say anything about the recent outpouring of books on violence and violent incidents during Reconstruction, it is how in many cases the authors of these works did not pause to read what was already in print before they plunged into their research. Charles Lane’s The Day Freedom Died is to my mind the best of these books, although one might also find useful LeeAnna Keith’s study of the Colfax massacre; I am not as enamored of Nicholas Lemann’s Redemption, a popular study of the overthrow of the Republican regime in Mississippi in 1875, because its analysis of national politics is simply uninformed (it simply rehashes William McFeely’s interpretation offered in his 1981 biography of Grant), and reviewer Sean Wilentz’s essay offered a perceptive corrective. Moreover, I suspect this renewal of interest in the violence of Reconstruction and of the triumph of white terrorism owes more than a little to current affairs.
That said, however, these books remind us that the 150th anniversary of Reconstruction is fast approaching. Indeed, one can argue that Reconstruction actually began on December 20, 1860, with South Carolina’s secession, because after that secession, whatever settlement was crafted, the American republic would in some way be reconstructed … whether that “reconstruction” meant constructing again or constructing anew remained to be determined. That premise helped shape my 1998 book, The Reconstruction Presidents, and the idea that Appomattox was more of a transition point than a dividing line is emphasized, in my first book, Let Us Have Peace: Ulysses S. Grant and the Poltics of War and Reconstruction, 1861-1868, which appeared in 1991. So these ideas are not new to me, and indeed they are not new with me: they are part of a longer discussion among scholars.
So how should we observe the sesquicentennial of Reconstruction? How will we observe it? Given all I’ve read about observing the sesquicentennial of the Civil War, are we in danger of overlooking that it was during Reconstruction that Americans defined what that “new birth of freedom” meant? Will we remember that for all the handshaking and saluting at Appomattox, Americans disagreed–violently–over what it all meant? Was that “battle cry of freedom” we hear so much about a celebration of triumph in 1865 or the cries of the dying in Colfax, Louisiana on April 13, 1873? Will we recall the Memphis Riot and the New Orleans Riot of 1866 in the same way that we will observe how both those cities fell to Union arms in 1862? When we commemorate the fall of Vicksburg in 1863, will we remember the riot there in December 1874? When we recall John B. Gordon returning Joshua Chamberlain’s salute at Appomattox (which, in fact, may not have happened quite in the way those two tale tellers recalled), will we remind ourselves of how Gordon was a Klansman in 1868, advocating political violence, while Chamberlain faltered when it came to protecting the freedmen?
Or if, as David Blight suggests, the study of memory is as much about what we forget as how we remember, will we simply decide to forget Reconstruction? Because, folks, that’s where some people are going to have to deal with some troubling questions. After all, a belief in white supremacy was not limited to slaveholders … nor was it limited to white southerners. And yet during Reconstruction the majority of white southerners were united by a desire to maintain white supremacy in a way that they were never united by the quest for independence: some white southerners were willing to fight the guerrilla war to preserve white supremacy that they refused to fight for Confederate independence. And, if a majority of white northerners supported a war for reunion and the destruction of slavery, not nearly as many made the realization and protection of the equality of African Americans before the law a priority during Reconstruction … and, indeed, a significant number actively opposed that end.
It is something of a trite observation to claim that the Civil War made us what we are: I would add that Reconstruction suggested just as much about who we are, and that is why it remains an unfinished revolution.
Crossroads 
I think the vast majority of Americans who observe the Civil War’s Sesquicentennial won’t give a thought about Reconstruction’s–which means only a tiny fraction will even think about Reconstruction’s Sesquicentennial, let alone mark it. No feinting and flanking, no battlefield memorials, and no national battlefield parks, so no interest. It’s too confusing for most anyway, since it’s hardly ever covered in school and they just pick up little snippets here and there.
Plus, studying Reconstruction doesn’t give people the “feel good” story that the Civil War does – the North wins, the slaves are free, the country is United after Appomattox. Reconstruction then creates those uncomfortable questions about topics like race and violence, and the “feel good” spirit of Appomattox is forgotten. People (at least most, from what I understand) aren’t as likely to study or want to read about stuff that makes them feel uncomfortable.
What unfinished revolution are you talking about here professor? Racial equality? If so, what’s the finish line going to look like? And who gets to declare the revolution has ended?
On Reconstruction, however, of course aspects of it will be remembered. No, it’s not the Civil War. Nor is it easily bracketed into a period of time like the Civil War is. Events and people from the time will be remembered of course. I mean, are their not historians who will blog about this?
… however, I think to use history to beat certain political drums today, is a bit grotesque, cause we’re burdening people not responsible for whatever happened in New Orleans on a certain date in 1866. I mean supposed racist, white Louisiana largely voted for, in Reconstruction era language (if I may), the darkey Piyush Jindal. I think thats says as much as we need to know about current affairs in New Orleans and Louisiana today. Yes, we should remember the 1866 riots and the Battle of Liberty Place… but what really is the lesson to be learned from this when New Orleans has had African-American mayors from 1979-2009; has and has had African-American representation in Congress for umpteen years; elected the first Vietnamese Representative to Congress in U.S. history; and, again, has a State governor named Piyush Jindal?
Remember and acknowledge our history we should, but the remembrance and acknowledgement shouldn’t be used to promote bigotry, self-hate, and disunion today, i.e. it is not a tool with which to metaphorically bludgeon certain groups of people with.
My first response would be that if it is simply left to historians who blog to discuss Reconstruction, then I guess some people would rather enjoy a selective and sanitized memory of the past. I’d argue that for all the work done on the memory of the Civil War, the memory of Reconstruction in many ways is equally important, and that the two are intimately related.
It’s unclear what you have in mind about “using history to beat certain political drums today.” After all, certain groups wanted to beat political drums when it came to the debate over Confederate History Month in Virginia, including the SCV. Nor do I understand your point about “burdening people not responsible for whatever happened” in the past. Who’s done that?
I note that many white southerners do seem to think that somehow addressing the past is to point a finger of accusation at them, but those folks will have to explain why they feel accused of anything. No one said that people today are responsible for what happened during Reconstruction, so it’s interesting that anyone should feel accused. Usually in an accusation there’s someone doing the accusing. Moreover, you assume that any memory of Reconstruction will somehow “accuse” southern whites alone. I find this to be a peculiarly southern defensiveness as a way to try to fend off historical discussion … because anyone who actually reads my work understands that I hold certain white Americans in both the North and the South as largely responsible for the failure of Reconstruction to achieve the fruits of freedom envisioned by the postwar amendments. But I never have white northerners complain that somehow they’re being accused of anything when they read my work.
I fail to see the relevance of today’s politics in Louisiana to Reconstruction in Louisiana. I would venture that one reason you see a black mayor in New Orleans is because black people vote, something a majority of white Louisianans did not want them to do during Reconstruction. So you would think people in Louisiana would want to recall Reconstruction as a way to show people how much the state and its people have changed. How would that promote “bigotry, self-hate, and disunion”?
So why are some white southerners so sensitive? Why do they feel they’re being bludgeoned? Why would they prefer that we forget Reconstruction? Why do they assume that the study of the past is somehow all about them, and that it’s really about the present and not the past?
What do you mean by “Moreover, I suspect this renewal of interest in the violence of Reconstruction and of the triumph of white terrorism owes more than a little to current affairs.”?
… and what do you mean by “an unfinished revolution.”?
The “unfinished revolution” phrase, which Eric Foner uses as the subtitle to his classic study of Reconstruction, seems to me to suggest improving race relations between whites and blacks and addressing inequalities due to race and racial discrimination. Even as we recognize how much has changed for the better, I think we as a society are not where we want to be on this issue, and perhaps we’ll never be (in part because it’s becoming something of a moving target, and we still see signs of friction all around us). Racism’s a national issue; it’s not dead; how we address it (and whether we want to address it) continues to be part of the national dialogue. It’s not restricted to black/white relations (recall that I live in Arizona) and I think you raise a good point about defining when it is “finished.” There are no simple answers to that question.
Although there were a few studies of terrorism and violence during Reconstruction, I suspect the wave of books this past decade (mostly by non-professional historians) may owe more than a little to the events of 9/11 and “the ensuing “war on terror,” including the challenges posed by occupations in Afghanistan and Iraq. Several of these books, in contrast to earlier studies, are put out by trade presses; I’m curious as to the reasons for this surge in interest about something once restricted to scholars writing mostly for their peers.
“So you would think people in Louisiana would want to recall Reconstruction as a way to show people how much the state and its people have changed. How would that promote “bigotry, self-hate, and disunion”?”
You would think this… if that is how the history is shown, i.e. “hey, everybody, lets remember Reconstruction and look at how much Louisiana has changed”. That’s not necessarily how it will be portrayed though… at least not by everyone.
There will be people who will expect people to act ashamed (those students in Minnesota for example… no different than their ancestors). There will be further calls for reparations perhaps. Some will say “nothing has changed, we’re still victims”. People make these points today.
Then perhaps the best way for the people of Louisiana to show how much has changed is to feature that progression from the war and reconstruction to today. One thing’s for sure: it’s up to them to discuss how they want to commemorate the conflict. Other people will chip in with their perspectives.
“So how should we observe the sesquicentennial of Reconstruction? How will we observe it? Given all I’ve read about observing the sesquicentennial of the Civil War, are we in danger of overlooking that it was during Reconstruction that Americans defined what that ‘new birth of freedom’ meant? Will we remember that for all the handshaking and saluting at Appomattox, Americans disagreed–violently–over what it all meant? Was that ‘battle cry of freedom’ we hear so much about a celebration of triumph in 1865 or the cries of the dying in Colfax, Louisiana on April 13, 1873? Will we recall the Memphis Riot and the New Orleans Riot of 1866 in the same way that we will observe how both those cities fell to Union arms in 1862? When we commemorate the fall of Vicksburg in 1863, will we remember the riot there in December 1874? When we recall John B. Gordon returning Joshua Chamberlain’s salute at Appomattox (which, in fact, may not have happened quite in the way those two tale tellers recalled), will we remind ourselves of how Gordon was a Klansman in 1868, advocating political violence, while Chamberlain faltered when it came to protecting the freedmen?
Or if, as David Blight suggests, the study of memory is as much about what we forget as how we remember, will we simply decide to forget Reconstruction? Because, folks, that’s where some people are going to have to deal with some troubling questions. After all, a belief in white supremacy was not limited to slaveholders … nor was it limited to white southerners. And yet during Reconstruction the majority of white southerners were united by a desire to maintain white supremacy in a way that they were never united by the quest for independence: some white southerners were willing to fight the guerrilla war to preserve white supremacy that they refused to fight for Confederate independence. And, if a majority of white northerners supported a war for reunion and the destruction of slavery, not nearly as many made the realization and protection of the equality of African Americans before the law a priority during Reconstruction … and, indeed, a significant number actively opposed that end.
It is something of a trite observation to claim that the Civil War made us what we are: I would add that Reconstruction suggested just as much about who we are, and that is why it remains an unfinished revolution.”
This says it all. It is even a bit prescient.
So, how will we remember Reconstruction? Will race be seen as central to the national narrative of how we became who we are, or peripheral? “A footnote”, as one Indigenous Elder put it.
It remains to be seen.