Sons of Master and Man

The world-old phenomenon of the contact of diverse races of men is to have new exemplification during the new century. Indeed, the characteristic of our age is the contact of European civilization with the world’s undeveloped peoples. Whatever we may say of the results of such contact in the past, it certainly forms a chapter in human action not pleasant to look back upon. War, murder, slavery, extermination, and debauchery,—this has again and again been the result of carrying civilization and the blessed gospel to the isles of the sea and the heathen without the law. Nor does it altogether satisfy the conscience of the modern world to be told complacently that all this has been right and proper, the fated triumph of strength over weakness, of righteousness over evil, of superiors over inferiors. It would certainly be soothing if one could readily believe all this; and yet there are too many ugly facts for everything to be thus easily explained away. We feel and know that there are many delicate differences in race psychology, numberless changes that our crude social measurements are not yet able to follow minutely, which explain much of history and social development. At the same time, too, we know that these considerations have never adequately explained or excused the triumph of brute force and cunning over weakness and innocence.

Contact between different races is as old as the world, and the new century will bring new examples. Indeed, the defining feature of our age is European civilization’s contact with the world’s undeveloped peoples. Whatever we may say about the results of such contact in the past, the record is certainly unpleasant to revisit. War, murder, slavery, extermination, and moral corruption have followed again and again. These have been the results of bringing civilization and the blessed gospel to distant islands and to heathens outside religious law. Nor is the modern world’s conscience entirely satisfied by smug assurances that all this was right and proper. We are told these horrors were the inevitable triumph of strength over weakness, righteousness over evil, and superiors over inferiors. It would certainly be comforting if we could readily believe all these assurances. Yet too many ugly facts stand in the way of explaining everything away so easily. We feel and know that there are many subtle differences in the psychology of races. There are also countless changes that our crude methods of measuring society cannot yet track in detail. These differences and changes explain much of history and social development. At the same time, we also know that these factors have never adequately explained or excused certain triumphs: those of brute force and cunning over weakness and innocence.

It is, then, the strife of all honorable men of the twentieth century to see that in the future competition of races the survival of the fittest shall mean the triumph of the good, the beautiful, and the true; that we may be able to preserve for future civilization all that is really fine and noble and strong, and not continue to put a premium on greed and impudence and cruelty. To bring this hope to fruition, we are compelled daily to turn more and more to a conscientious study of the phenomena of race-contact,—to a study frank and fair, and not falsified and colored by our wishes or our fears. And we have in the South as fine a field for such a study as the world affords,—a field, to be sure, which the average American scientist deems somewhat beneath his dignity, and which the average man who is not a scientist knows all about, but nevertheless a line of study which by reason of the enormous race complications with which God seems about to punish this nation must increasingly claim our sober attention, study, and thought, we must ask, what are the actual relations of whites and blacks in the South? and we must be answered, not by apology or fault-finding, but by a plain, unvarnished tale.

All honorable people of the twentieth century must therefore work toward a goal for the future competition among races. They must ensure that the survival of the fittest means the triumph of the good, the beautiful, and the true. The aim is to preserve everything truly fine, noble, and strong for future civilization, rather than keep rewarding greed, shamelessness, and cruelty. To fulfill this hope, we must turn increasingly, day by day, to a conscientious study of contact between races. Such a study must be honest and fair, not distorted or shaped by our wishes or fears. The South offers as fine a setting for this study as any in the world. Admittedly, the average American scientist considers this field somewhat beneath his dignity. Meanwhile, the average person who is not a scientist knows all about it. Nevertheless, this field must increasingly demand our serious attention, study, and thought. This is because God seems about to punish this nation with enormous racial complications. We must ask: What are the actual relations between white and Black people in the South? The answer must offer neither excuses nor fault-finding, but a plain, unvarnished account.

In the civilized life of to-day the contact of men and their relations to each other fall in a few main lines of action and communication: there is, first, the physical proximity of home and dwelling-places, the way in which neighborhoods group themselves, and the contiguity of neighborhoods. Secondly, and in our age chiefest, there are the economic relations,—the methods by which individuals cooperate for earning a living, for the mutual satisfaction of wants, for the production of wealth. Next, there are the political relations, the cooperation in social control, in group government, in laying and paying the burden of taxation. In the fourth place there are the less tangible but highly important forms of intellectual contact and commerce, the interchange of ideas through conversation and conference, through periodicals and libraries; and, above all, the gradual formation for each community of that curious tertium quid which we call public opinion. Closely allied with this come the various forms of social contact in everyday life, in travel, in theatres, in house gatherings, in marrying and giving in marriage. Finally, there are the varying forms of religious enterprise, of moral teaching and benevolent endeavor. These are the principal ways in which men living in the same communities are brought into contact with each other. It is my present task, therefore, to indicate, from my point of view, how the black race in the South meet and mingle with the whites in these matters of everyday life.

In modern civilized life, people’s contact and relationships with one another follow a few main patterns of activity and communication. First, there is physical closeness: where people live, how homes form neighborhoods, and how neighborhoods border one another. Second, and most important in our age, are economic relationships. These involve how people work together to earn a living, meet one another’s needs, and produce wealth. Next come political relationships: working together to guide society, govern communities, and assign and pay taxes. Fourth, there are less tangible but highly important forms of intellectual contact and exchange. People exchange ideas through conversations and meetings, through periodicals and libraries. Above all, each community gradually develops that curious tertium quid, or third thing, we call public opinion. Closely related to intellectual exchange are the various forms of social contact. These occur in everyday life, during travel, at theaters, at gatherings in homes, and through marrying and arranging marriages. Finally, there are the various forms of religious activity, moral teaching, and charitable work. These are the main ways people living in the same communities come into contact with one another. My task now is to describe, from my perspective, how Black people in the South meet and mingle with white people. I will consider these everyday activities and relationships.

First, as to physical dwelling. It is usually possible to draw in nearly every Southern community a physical color-line on the map, on the one side of which whites dwell and on the other Negroes. The winding and intricacy of the geographical color-line varies, of course, in different communities. I know some towns where a straight line drawn through the middle of the main street separates nine-tenths of the whites from nine-tenths of the blacks. In other towns the older settlement of whites has been encircled by a broad band of blacks; in still other cases little settlements or nuclei of blacks have sprung up amid surrounding whites. Usually in cities each street has its distinctive color, and only now and then do the colors meet in close proximity. Even in the country something of this segregation is manifest in the smaller areas, and of course in the larger phenomena of the Black Belt.

First, consider where people live. In nearly every Southern community, it is usually possible to draw a racial dividing line on a map. White people live on one side, and Black people on the other. Of course, how much this geographical color-line twists and turns varies from community to community. I know some towns where a straight line down the main street separates nine-tenths of white residents from nine-tenths of Black residents. In other towns, a broad band of Black residents surrounds the older white settlement. In still other places, small Black settlements or clusters of homes have sprung up among surrounding white residents. In cities, each street usually has its own distinct racial identity. Only occasionally do Black and white residents live close together. Even in the countryside, some segregation is visible in smaller areas and, of course, across the larger Black Belt.

All this segregation by color is largely independent of that natural clustering by social grades common to all communities. A Negro slum may be in dangerous proximity to a white residence quarter, while it is quite common to find a white slum planted in the heart of a respectable Negro district. One thing, however, seldom occurs: the best of the whites and the best of the Negroes almost never live in anything like close proximity. It thus happens that in nearly every Southern town and city, both whites and blacks see commonly the worst of each other. This is a vast change from the situation in the past, when, through the close contact of master and house-servant in the patriarchal big house, one found the best of both races in close contact and sympathy, while at the same time the squalor and dull round of toil among the field-hands was removed from the sight and hearing of the family. One can easily see how a person who saw slavery thus from his father’s parlors, and sees freedom on the streets of a great city, fails to grasp or comprehend the whole of the new picture. On the other hand, the settled belief of the mass of the Negroes that the Southern white people do not have the black man’s best interests at heart has been intensified in later years by this continual daily contact of the better class of blacks with the worst representatives of the white race.

All this segregation by race is largely separate from the natural grouping by social class found in all communities. A Black slum may be dangerously close to a white residential neighborhood. Meanwhile, a white slum is quite commonly found in the heart of a respectable Black neighborhood. Yet one thing seldom happens: the best white people and the best Black people almost never live near each other. As a result, in nearly every Southern town and city, both white and Black people commonly see each other’s worst members. This is a vast change from the past. Under the paternal authority of the plantation’s big house, enslavers and household servants lived in close contact. There, the best of both races were close to one another and shared mutual sympathy. Meanwhile, the family neither saw nor heard the squalor and monotonous labor of the enslaved field workers. It is easy to see how someone who viewed slavery from his father’s parlors might misunderstand the new situation. He now sees freedom on the streets of a great city and fails to understand the whole picture. On the other hand, most Black people firmly believe that Southern white people do not have Black people’s best interests at heart. In recent years, this belief has grown stronger through daily contact between higher-class Black people and the worst white people.

Coming now to the economic relations of the races, we are on ground made familiar by study, much discussion, and no little philanthropic effort. And yet with all this there are many essential elements in the cooperation of Negroes and whites for work and wealth that are too readily overlooked or not thoroughly understood. The average American can easily conceive of a rich land awaiting development and filled with black laborers. To him the Southern problem is simply that of making efficient workingmen out of this material, by giving them the requisite technical skill and the help of invested capital. The problem, however, is by no means as simple as this, from the obvious fact that these workingmen have been trained for centuries as slaves. They exhibit, therefore, all the advantages and defects of such training; they are willing and good-natured, but not self-reliant, provident, or careful. If now the economic development of the South is to be pushed to the verge of exploitation, as seems probable, then we have a mass of workingmen thrown into relentless competition with the workingmen of the world, but handicapped by a training the very opposite to that of the modern self-reliant democratic laborer. What the black laborer needs is careful personal guidance, group leadership of men with hearts in their bosoms, to train them to foresight, carefulness, and honesty. Nor does it require any fine-spun theories of racial differences to prove the necessity of such group training after the brains of the race have been knocked out by two hundred and fifty years of assiduous education in submission, carelessness, and stealing. After Emancipation, it was the plain duty of some one to assume this group leadership and training of the Negro laborer. I will not stop here to inquire whose duty it was—whether that of the white ex-master who had profited by unpaid toil, or the Northern philanthropist whose persistence brought on the crisis, or the National Government whose edict freed the bondmen; I will not stop to ask whose duty it was, but I insist it was the duty of some one to see that these workingmen were not left alone and unguided, without capital, without land, without skill, without economic organization, without even the bald protection of law, order, and decency,—left in a great land, not to settle down to slow and careful internal development, but destined to be thrown almost immediately into relentless and sharp competition with the best of modern workingmen under an economic system where every participant is fighting for himself, and too often utterly regardless of the rights or welfare of his neighbor.

We now turn to the economic relations between the races. Study, much discussion, and considerable charitable effort have made this familiar ground. Yet many essential parts of Black and white cooperation in work and wealth are too easily overlooked or poorly understood. The average American can easily picture a rich land awaiting development and filled with Black laborers. To that American, the Southern problem is simply how to turn these laborers into efficient workers. All they need is the necessary technical skills and the support of invested capital. But the problem is far more complicated, for an obvious reason: these workers have been trained for centuries as slaves. They therefore show all the advantages and faults of that training. They are willing and good-natured, but not self-reliant, careful, or prepared for the future. Now suppose the South’s economic development is pushed to the edge of exploitation, as seems likely. Then a mass of workers will be thrown into ruthless competition with workers around the world. Yet their training puts them at a disadvantage. It is the very opposite of the training of modern, self-reliant workers in a democracy. What Black laborers need is careful personal guidance and group leadership from men with compassion. Such leaders must teach them to plan ahead, take care, and be honest. No elaborate theories of racial differences are needed to prove the need for such group training. For 250 years, relentless training in submission, carelessness, and stealing has battered the intelligence out of the race. After Emancipation, someone had a clear duty to provide this group leadership and training for Black laborers. I will not pause here to ask whose duty it was. Was it the white former master’s, who had profited from unpaid labor? Was it the Northern philanthropist’s, whose persistence brought on the crisis? Or was it the National Government’s, whose decree freed the enslaved? I will not pause to ask whose duty it was. But I insist that someone had a duty to make sure these workers were not left alone and unguided. They had no capital, no land, no skills, and no economic organization. They lacked even the bare protection of law, order, and decency. They were left in a great land, but not to settle into slow, careful development from within. Instead, they were destined almost immediately for ruthless, fierce competition with the best modern workers. Under that economic system, everyone fights for himself, too often with no regard for his neighbor’s rights or welfare.

For we must never forget that the economic system of the South to-day which has succeeded the old regime is not the same system as that of the old industrial North, of England, or of France, with their trade-unions, their restrictive laws, their written and unwritten commercial customs, and their long experience. It is, rather, a copy of that England of the early nineteenth century, before the factory acts,—the England that wrung pity from thinkers and fired the wrath of Carlyle. The rod of empire that passed from the hands of Southern gentlemen in 1865, partly by force, partly by their own petulance, has never returned to them. Rather it has passed to those men who have come to take charge of the industrial exploitation of the New South,—the sons of poor whites fired with a new thirst for wealth and power, thrifty and avaricious Yankees, and unscrupulous immigrants. Into the hands of these men the Southern laborers, white and black, have fallen; and this to their sorrow. For the laborers as such, there is in these new captains of industry neither love nor hate, neither sympathy nor romance; it is a cold question of dollars and dividends. Under such a system all labor is bound to suffer. Even the white laborers are not yet intelligent, thrifty, and well trained enough to maintain themselves against the powerful inroads of organized capital. The results among them, even, are long hours of toil, low wages, child labor, and lack of protection against usury and cheating. But among the black laborers all this is aggravated, first, by a race prejudice which varies from a doubt and distrust among the best element of whites to a frenzied hatred among the worst; and, secondly, it is aggravated, as I have said before, by the wretched economic heritage of the freedmen from slavery. With this training it is difficult for the freedman to learn to grasp the opportunities already opened to him, and the new opportunities are seldom given him, but go by favor to the whites.

For we must never forget that the South’s economic system today, replacing the old order, differs from other industrial systems. It is not the system of the old industrial North, England, or France. Those places have trade unions, laws restricting business practices, written and unwritten business customs, and long experience. Instead, the South’s system copies England’s in the early nineteenth century, before laws regulating factories. That England stirred pity in thinkers and ignited Carlyle’s anger. Southern gentlemen lost their ruling power in 1865, partly through force and partly through their own childish resentment. That power has never returned to them. Instead, it has passed to the men who now control the industrial exploitation of the New South. These include sons of poor whites, driven by a new thirst for wealth and power. They also include thrifty, greedy Yankees and unscrupulous immigrants. Southern workers, white and black, have fallen into these men’s hands, to the workers’ sorrow. These new industrial leaders feel neither love nor hate for workers as workers, neither sympathy nor romantic attachment. For these leaders, labor is simply a cold calculation of dollars and dividends. Under such a system, all workers are bound to suffer. Even white workers are not yet knowledgeable, thrifty, and well trained enough to withstand organized capital’s powerful advances. Even white workers face long working hours, low wages, child labor, and no protection against excessive interest charges and cheating. But black workers suffer all these conditions more severely, first because of racial prejudice. Among the best white people, that prejudice takes the form of doubt and distrust. Among the worst, it becomes frenzied hatred. Second, as I have said before, slavery left formerly enslaved people a miserable economic inheritance that worsens their suffering. With the preparation slavery gave them, formerly enslaved people struggle to learn how to seize opportunities already open to them. And new opportunities are seldom offered to them, but go instead to white people through favoritism.

Left by the best elements of the South with little protection or oversight, he has been made in law and custom the victim of the worst and most unscrupulous men in each community. The crop-lien system which is depopulating the fields of the South is not simply the result of shiftlessness on the part of Negroes, but is also the result of cunningly devised laws as to mortgages, liens, and misdemeanors, which can be made by conscienceless men to entrap and snare the unwary until escape is impossible, further toil a farce, and protest a crime. I have seen, in the Black Belt of Georgia, an ignorant, honest Negro buy and pay for a farm in installments three separate times, and then in the face of law and decency the enterprising American who sold it to him pocketed the money and deed and left the black man landless, to labor on his own land at thirty cents a day. I have seen a black farmer fall in debt to a white storekeeper, and that storekeeper go to his farm and strip it of every single marketable article,—mules, ploughs, stored crops, tools, furniture, bedding, clocks, looking-glass,—and all this without a sheriff or officer, in the face of the law for homestead exemptions, and without rendering to a single responsible person any account or reckoning. And such proceedings can happen, and will happen, in any community where a class of ignorant toilers are placed by custom and race-prejudice beyond the pale of sympathy and race-brotherhood. So long as the best elements of a community do not feel in duty bound to protect and train and care for the weaker members of their group, they leave them to be preyed upon by these swindlers and rascals.

The best people in the South have left the black man with little protection or oversight. As a result, law and custom have made him the victim of each community’s worst and most unscrupulous men. The crop-lien system, which lets creditors claim a farmer’s crops for debts, is emptying the South’s fields. This system is not simply the result of laziness among black people. It also results from cleverly designed laws governing mortgages, liens, and minor crimes. Ruthless men can use these laws to trap the unsuspecting until escape becomes impossible. Further work becomes pointless, and protest becomes a crime. In the Black Belt of Georgia, I have seen an uneducated, honest black man buy a farm in installments. He paid for that farm three separate times. Yet, defying law and decency, the enterprising American who sold him the farm pocketed the money and kept the deed. The seller left the black man landless, working on his own land for thirty cents a day. I have seen a black farmer fall into debt to a white storekeeper. The storekeeper went to the farmer’s land and stripped it of every single item that could be sold: mules, plows, stored crops, tools, furniture, bedding, clocks, and a mirror. The storekeeper did all this without a sheriff or other officer present, defying the law protecting essential household property from seizure. He gave no responsible person any account of what he had taken. Such acts can and will happen wherever custom and racial prejudice place a class of uneducated workers beyond sympathy and racial brotherhood. As long as a community’s best people feel no duty to protect, educate, and care for their group’s weaker members, those members remain prey to these swindlers and scoundrels.

This unfortunate economic situation does not mean the hindrance of all advance in the black South, or the absence of a class of black landlords and mechanics who, in spite of disadvantages, are accumulating property and making good citizens. But it does mean that this class is not nearly so large as a fairer economic system might easily make it, that those who survive in the competition are handicapped so as to accomplish much less than they deserve to, and that, above all, the personnel of the successful class is left to chance and accident, and not to any intelligent culling or reasonable methods of selection. As a remedy for this, there is but one possible procedure. We must accept some of the race prejudice in the South as a fact,—deplorable in its intensity, unfortunate in results, and dangerous for the future, but nevertheless a hard fact which only time can efface. We cannot hope, then, in this generation, or for several generations, that the mass of the whites can be brought to assume that close sympathetic and self-sacrificing leadership of the blacks which their present situation so eloquently demands. Such leadership, such social teaching and example, must come from the blacks themselves. For some time men doubted as to whether the Negro could develop such leaders; but to-day no one seriously disputes the capability of individual Negroes to assimilate the culture and common sense of modern civilization, and to pass it on, to some extent at least, to their fellows. If this is true, then here is the path out of the economic situation, and here is the imperative demand for trained Negro leaders of character and intelligence,—men of skill, men of light and leading, college-bred men, black captains of industry, and missionaries of culture; men who thoroughly comprehend and know modern civilization, and can take hold of Negro communities and raise and train them by force of precept and example, deep sympathy, and the inspiration of common blood and ideals. But if such men are to be effective they must have some power,—they must be backed by the best public opinion of these communities, and able to wield for their objects and aims such weapons as the experience of the world has taught are indispensable to human progress.

This unfortunate economic situation does not prevent all progress among Black people in the South. Nor does it mean there are no Black landowners and skilled workers gaining property and becoming good citizens despite disadvantages. But this class is far smaller than a fairer economic system could easily make it. Those who succeed despite the competition face obstacles that keep them from achieving nearly as much as they deserve. Above all, the membership of this successful class depends on chance and accident, not thoughtful choice or reasonable selection methods. There is only one possible way to remedy this situation. We must accept some of the South’s racial prejudice as a fact. Its intensity is deplorable, its results unfortunate, and its threat to the future dangerous. Nevertheless, racial prejudice is a hard fact that only time can erase. We cannot hope that most white people will provide the close, sympathetic, self-sacrificing leadership that Black people’s situation so clearly demands. Not in this generation, or for several generations to come. Such leadership, social teaching, and example must come from Black people themselves. For some time, people doubted whether Black people could develop such leaders. But today, no one seriously disputes that individual Black people can absorb the culture and practical wisdom of modern civilization. Nor does anyone seriously dispute their ability to pass that knowledge on to other Black people, at least to some extent. If these abilities exist, then here is the way out of this economic situation. Here is the urgent need for trained Black leaders of character and intelligence. We need skilled men, men of knowledge and leadership, college-educated men, Black industrial leaders, and missionaries of culture. These men must thoroughly understand and know modern civilization. They must be able to guide Black communities, helping them advance and educating them through teaching and example. They must lead with deep sympathy and the inspiration of shared ancestry and ideals. But if such men are to be effective, they must have some power. They must have the support of the most enlightened public opinion in these communities. And they must be able to pursue their goals using the tools that human experience has shown are essential to progress.

Of such weapons the greatest, perhaps, in the modern world is the power of the ballot; and this brings me to a consideration of the third form of contact between whites and blacks in the South,—political activity.

Of such weapons, perhaps the greatest in the modern world is the power to vote. This power brings me to the third form of contact between whites and blacks in the South: political activity.

In the attitude of the American mind toward Negro suffrage can be traced with unusual accuracy the prevalent conceptions of government. In the fifties we were near enough the echoes of the French Revolution to believe pretty thoroughly in universal suffrage. We argued, as we thought then rather logically, that no social class was so good, so true, and so disinterested as to be trusted wholly with the political destiny of its neighbors; that in every state the best arbiters of their own welfare are the persons directly affected; consequently that it is only by arming every hand with a ballot,—with the right to have a voice in the policy of the state,—that the greatest good to the greatest number could be attained. To be sure, there were objections to these arguments, but we thought we had answered them tersely and convincingly; if some one complained of the ignorance of voters, we answered, “Educate them.” If another complained of their venality, we replied, “Disfranchise them or put them in jail.” And, finally, to the men who feared demagogues and the natural perversity of some human beings we insisted that time and bitter experience would teach the most hardheaded. It was at this time that the question of Negro suffrage in the South was raised. Here was a defenceless people suddenly made free. How were they to be protected from those who did not believe in their freedom and were determined to thwart it? Not by force, said the North; not by government guardianship, said the South; then by the ballot, the sole and legitimate defence of a free people, said the Common Sense of the Nation. No one thought, at the time, that the ex-slaves could use the ballot intelligently or very effectively; but they did think that the possession of so great power by a great class in the nation would compel their fellows to educate this class to its intelligent use.

American attitudes toward Negro voting rights reveal prevailing ideas about government with unusual precision. In the 1850s, the echoes of the French Revolution were still close enough for us to believe firmly in universal suffrage. We argued in a way we then thought quite logical. No social class was so good, honest, and free from self-interest that its neighbors’ political future could be entrusted entirely to it. In every state, the people directly affected were the best judges of their own welfare. So the greatest good for the greatest number could be achieved only by giving everyone a ballot. Everyone needed the right to a voice in state policy. There were objections to these arguments, of course. But we thought our answers were brief and convincing. If someone complained that voters were ignorant, we answered, “Educate them.” If another complained that voters could be bribed, we replied, “Take away their voting rights or put them in jail.” Finally, some men feared demagogues and the natural stubbornness of some human beings. We insisted that time and bitter experience would teach even the most hardheaded. At this point, the question of Negro voting rights in the South arose. Here was a defenseless people, suddenly set free. How could they be protected from people who rejected their freedom and were determined to undermine it? Not by force, said the North. Not by government protection, said the South. Then by the ballot, said the Common Sense of the Nation, the only legitimate defense of a free people. No one then thought that formerly enslaved people could use the ballot intelligently or very effectively. But people did believe that giving so much power to such a large group within the nation would compel others to act. Their fellow citizens would have to educate this group to use the ballot intelligently.

Meantime, new thoughts came to the nation: the inevitable period of moral retrogression and political trickery that ever follows in the wake of war overtook us. So flagrant became the political scandals that reputable men began to leave politics alone, and politics consequently became disreputable. Men began to pride themselves on having nothing to do with their own government, and to agree tacitly with those who regarded public office as a private perquisite. In this state of mind it became easy to wink at the suppression of the Negro vote in the South, and to advise self-respecting Negroes to leave politics entirely alone. The decent and reputable citizens of the North who neglected their own civic duties grew hilarious over the exaggerated importance with which the Negro regarded the franchise. Thus it easily happened that more and more the better class of Negroes followed the advice from abroad and the pressure from home, and took no further interest in politics, leaving to the careless and the venal of their race the exercise of their rights as voters. The black vote that still remained was not trained and educated, but further debauched by open and unblushing bribery, or force and fraud; until the Negro voter was thoroughly inoculated with the idea that politics was a method of private gain by disreputable means.

Meanwhile, new ideas came to the nation. The moral decline and political trickery that inevitably follow war overtook us. Political scandals became so blatant that respectable men began to stay out of politics. As a result, politics itself became disreputable. Men began to take pride in having nothing to do with their own government. Without saying so, they agreed with those who treated public office as a source of personal benefits. With this attitude, people easily turned a blind eye to the suppression of the Black vote in the South. They also advised self-respecting Black people to stay out of politics altogether. Decent, respectable Northerners neglected their own civic duties. Yet these same citizens laughed heartily at the exaggerated importance Black people placed on the right to vote. So, increasingly, the more respectable Black citizens followed the advice from outside the South and yielded to pressure at home. They lost all further interest in politics. They left the exercise of their voting rights to the careless and corrupt members of their race. The Black voters who remained active received no training or education. Instead, blatant, shameless bribery, or force and fraud, corrupted them further. Eventually, Black voters became thoroughly convinced that politics was a way to profit personally through dishonorable means.

And finally, now, to-day, when we are awakening to the fact that the perpetuity of republican institutions on this continent depends on the purification of the ballot, the civic training of voters, and the raising of voting to the plane of a solemn duty which a patriotic citizen neglects to his peril and to the peril of his children’s children,—in this day, when we are striving for a renaissance of civic virtue, what are we going to say to the black voter of the South? Are we going to tell him still that politics is a disreputable and useless form of human activity? Are we going to induce the best class of Negroes to take less and less interest in government, and to give up their right to take such an interest, without a protest? I am not saying a word against all legitimate efforts to purge the ballot of ignorance, pauperism, and crime. But few have pretended that the present movement for disfranchisement in the South is for such a purpose; it has been plainly and frankly declared in nearly every case that the object of the disfranchising laws is the elimination of the black man from politics.

And finally, today we are recognizing what the survival of republican government on this continent depends on. We must rid elections of corruption, educate voters in citizenship, and make voting a solemn duty. A patriotic citizen who neglects that duty endangers himself and his children’s children. Now, as we seek a revival of civic responsibility, what are we going to say to the South’s black voter? Will we still tell him that politics is a disreputable and useless activity? Will we encourage the best members of the black community to take less and less interest in government? Will we encourage them to give up their right to that interest without protest? I am not speaking against any legitimate efforts to keep ignorance, extreme poverty, and crime out of elections. But few have claimed that the current movement to deny voting rights in the South serves that purpose. In nearly every case, supporters have plainly and openly stated the aim of laws denying voting rights. Their aim is to eliminate black men from politics.

Now, is this a minor matter which has no influence on the main question of the industrial and intellectual development of the Negro? Can we establish a mass of black laborers and artisans and landholders in the South who, by law and public opinion, have absolutely no voice in shaping the laws under which they live and work? Can the modern organization of industry, assuming as it does free democratic government and the power and ability of the laboring classes to compel respect for their welfare,—can this system be carried out in the South when half its laboring force is voiceless in the public councils and powerless in its own defence? To-day the black man of the South has almost nothing to say as to how much he shall be taxed, or how those taxes shall be expended; as to who shall execute the laws, and how they shall do it; as to who shall make the laws, and how they shall be made. It is pitiable that frantic efforts must be made at critical times to get law-makers in some States even to listen to the respectful presentation of the black man’s side of a current controversy. Daily the Negro is coming more and more to look upon law and justice, not as protecting safeguards, but as sources of humiliation and oppression. The laws are made by men who have little interest in him; they are executed by men who have absolutely no motive for treating the black people with courtesy or consideration; and, finally, the accused law-breaker is tried, not by his peers, but too often by men who would rather punish ten innocent Negroes than let one guilty one escape.

Now, is this a minor matter that has no effect on Black people’s economic and intellectual development? Can we build a large population of Black workers, skilled tradespeople, and landowners in the South under these conditions? Law and public opinion give them absolutely no voice in shaping the laws they live and work under. Modern industry assumes free, democratic government. It also assumes that working people have the power and ability to demand respect for their well-being. Can this system work in the South when half its workforce has no voice in government? When that half is powerless to defend itself? Today, Black people in the South have almost no say in how much they are taxed or how taxes are spent. They have almost no say in who enforces the laws or how those laws are enforced. They have almost no say in who makes the laws or how those laws are made. It is shameful that, at critical moments, desperate efforts are needed just to get lawmakers in some States to listen. Even a respectful presentation of Black people’s side of a current dispute requires such efforts. Every day, Black people increasingly see law and justice not as protections, but as sources of humiliation and oppression. The laws are made by men who have little interest in Black people. The men enforcing those laws have absolutely no incentive to treat Black people with courtesy or consideration. Finally, a Black person accused of breaking the law is not tried by peers. Too often, the men judging the accused would rather punish ten innocent Black people than let one guilty person escape.

I should be the last one to deny the patent weaknesses and shortcomings of the Negro people; I should be the last to withhold sympathy from the white South in its efforts to solve its intricate social problems. I freely acknowledged that it is possible, and sometimes best, that a partially undeveloped people should be ruled by the best of their stronger and better neighbors for their own good, until such time as they can start and fight the world’s battles alone. I have already pointed out how sorely in need of such economic and spiritual guidance the emancipated Negro was, and I am quite willing to admit that if the representatives of the best white Southern public opinion were the ruling and guiding powers in the South to-day the conditions indicated would be fairly well fulfilled. But the point I have insisted upon and now emphasize again, is that the best opinion of the South to-day is not the ruling opinion. That to leave the Negro helpless and without a ballot to-day is to leave him not to the guidance of the best, but rather to the exploitation and debauchment of the worst; that this is no truer of the South than of the North,—of the North than of Europe: in any land, in any country under modern free competition, to lay any class of weak and despised people, be they white, black, or blue, at the political mercy of their stronger, richer, and more resourceful fellows, is a temptation which human nature seldom has withstood and seldom will withstand.

I would be the last to deny the obvious weaknesses and shortcomings of the Negro people. I would also be the last to deny the white South sympathy as it tackles its complex social problems. I freely acknowledged that a people not yet fully developed may be ruled for their own good. Sometimes, rule by the best of their stronger and better neighbors may be the best course. Such rule would last until those people can begin facing the world’s struggles on their own. I have already explained how badly emancipated Negro people needed such economic and spiritual guidance. I readily admit that the conditions I have described would be fairly well met under certain leadership. That would be true if representatives of the best white Southern public opinion ruled and guided the South today. But I have insisted on one point, and I emphasize it again: the South’s best opinion does not govern today. Leaving Negro people helpless and without the vote does not leave them under the guidance of the best. Instead, it leaves them open to exploitation and moral corruption by the worst. This danger is no greater in the South than in the North, or in the North than in Europe. The same danger exists in any land, in any country under modern free competition. Place any weak and despised group, whether white, black, or blue, at the political mercy of stronger, richer, better-resourced people. The temptation to exploit that group is one human nature has seldom resisted and seldom will resist.

Moreover, the political status of the Negro in the South is closely connected with the question of Negro crime. There can be no doubt that crime among Negroes has sensibly increased in the last thirty years, and that there has appeared in the slums of great cities a distinct criminal class among the blacks. In explaining this unfortunate development, we must note two things: (1) that the inevitable result of Emancipation was to increase crime and criminals, and (2) that the police system of the South was primarily designed to control slaves. As to the first point, we must not forget that under a strict slave system there can scarcely be such a thing as crime. But when these variously constituted human particles are suddenly thrown broadcast on the sea of life, some swim, some sink, and some hang suspended, to be forced up or down by the chance currents of a busy hurrying world. So great an economic and social revolution as swept the South in ’63 meant a weeding out among the Negroes of the incompetents and vicious, the beginning of a differentiation of social grades. Now a rising group of people are not lifted bodily from the ground like an inert solid mass, but rather stretch upward like a living plant with its roots still clinging in the mould. The appearance, therefore, of the Negro criminal was a phenomenon to be awaited; and while it causes anxiety, it should not occasion surprise.

Moreover, the political status of Black people in the South is closely tied to the question of Black crime. There is no doubt that crime among Black people has noticeably increased over the last thirty years. A distinct criminal class has also emerged among Black people in the slums of large cities. To explain this unfortunate development, we must note two things: (1) Emancipation inevitably increased crime and the number of criminals. (2) The South’s police system was designed primarily to control slaves. On the first point, we must remember that under a strict system of slavery, crime can hardly exist. But suddenly cast these people, with their different natures and abilities, onto the sea of life, and some swim. Some sink, and some remain suspended. The chance currents of a busy, hurried world force those suspended people up or down. The enormous economic and social revolution that swept the South in 1863 meant a weeding out of the incompetent and vicious among Black people. It marked the beginning of a separation into different social levels. Now, a rising group of people does not lift off the ground all at once, like a solid, lifeless mass. Instead, the group stretches upward like a living plant whose roots still cling to the soil. The emergence of Black criminals was therefore to be expected. Although their emergence causes anxiety, it should not cause surprise.

Here again the hope for the future depended peculiarly on careful and delicate dealing with these criminals. Their offences at first were those of laziness, carelessness, and impulse, rather than of malignity or ungoverned viciousness. Such misdemeanors needed discriminating treatment, firm but reformatory, with no hint of injustice, and full proof of guilt. For such dealing with criminals, white or black, the South had no machinery, no adequate jails or reformatories; its police system was arranged to deal with blacks alone, and tacitly assumed that every white man was ipso facto a member of that police. Thus grew up a double system of justice, which erred on the white side by undue leniency and the practical immunity of red-handed criminals, and erred on the black side by undue severity, injustice, and lack of discrimination. For, as I have said, the police system of the South was originally designed to keep track of all Negroes, not simply of criminals; and when the Negroes were freed and the whole South was convinced of the impossibility of free Negro labor, the first and almost universal device was to use the courts as a means of reenslaving the blacks. It was not then a question of crime, but rather one of color, that settled a man’s conviction on almost any charge. Thus Negroes came to look upon courts as instruments of injustice and oppression, and upon those convicted in them as martyrs and victims.

Here again, hope for the future depended especially on treating these criminals carefully and sensitively. Their offenses at first came from laziness, carelessness, and impulse, rather than malice or uncontrolled cruelty. Such minor offenses needed careful judgment and treatment that was firm but aimed at reform. There must be no hint of injustice, and guilt must be fully proved. The South had no system for treating criminals this way, whether white or black. It had no adequate jails or reformatories. Its police system was set up to deal with black people alone. The system also assumed, without saying so, that every white man was by that very fact part of the police. So a double system of justice developed. For white people, justice was too lenient, allowing even criminals caught in the act to go virtually unpunished. For black people, justice was too harsh and unjust, failing to distinguish between individual cases. For, as I have said, Southern policing was originally designed to keep track of all Negroes, not simply criminals. Then the Negroes were freed, and the whole South became convinced that free Negro labor could not work. The first and almost universal response was to use the courts to enslave black people again. Conviction on almost any charge was then determined not by a man's crime, but by his color. So Negroes came to see courts as instruments of injustice and oppression. They saw those convicted in these courts as martyrs and victims.

When, now, the real Negro criminal appeared, and instead of petty stealing and vagrancy we began to have highway robbery, burglary, murder, and rape, there was a curious effect on both sides the color-line: the Negroes refused to believe the evidence of white witnesses or the fairness of white juries, so that the greatest deterrent to crime, the public opinion of one’s own social caste, was lost, and the criminal was looked upon as crucified rather than hanged. On the other hand, the whites, used to being careless as to the guilt or innocence of accused Negroes, were swept in moments of passion beyond law, reason, and decency. Such a situation is bound to increase crime, and has increased it. To natural viciousness and vagrancy are being daily added motives of revolt and revenge which stir up all the latent savagery of both races and make peaceful attention to economic development often impossible.

Now, when serious Black criminals appeared, petty theft and vagrancy gave way to highway robbery, burglary, murder, and rape. This change had a curious effect on both sides of the color line. Black people refused to believe white witnesses or trust the fairness of white juries. As a result, the strongest deterrent to crime, the judgment of one’s own social group, was lost. The criminal was seen as crucified rather than hanged. White people, meanwhile, were accustomed to giving little thought to whether accused Black people were guilty or innocent. In moments of passion, white people were swept beyond law, reason, and decency. Such a situation is bound to increase crime, and has increased crime. Alongside natural viciousness and vagrancy, motives of rebellion and revenge are being added daily. These motives stir up all the hidden savagery of both races and often make peaceful work toward economic development impossible.

But the chief problem in any community cursed with crime is not the punishment of the criminals, but the preventing of the young from being trained to crime. And here again the peculiar conditions of the South have prevented proper precautions. I have seen twelve-year-old boys working in chains on the public streets of Atlanta, directly in front of the schools, in company with old and hardened criminals; and this indiscriminate mingling of men and women and children makes the chain-gangs perfect schools of crime and debauchery. The struggle for reformatories, which has gone on in Virginia, Georgia, and other States, is the one encouraging sign of the awakening of some communities to the suicidal results of this policy.

But the main problem in any community plagued by crime is not how to punish criminals. It is how to prevent young people from being trained in crime. Here again, the South’s particular conditions have prevented proper safeguards. I have seen twelve-year-old boys working in chains on Atlanta’s public streets, directly in front of schools. They worked alongside older, hardened criminals. Mixing men, women, and children without distinction makes chain gangs perfect schools for crime and depravity. The fight to establish reformatories in Virginia, Georgia, and other States is the one encouraging sign. It shows that some communities are beginning to recognize the self-destructive results of this policy.

It is the public schools, however, which can be made, outside the homes, the greatest means of training decent self-respecting citizens. We have been so hotly engaged recently in discussing trade-schools and the higher education that the pitiable plight of the public-school system in the South has almost dropped from view. Of every five dollars spent for public education in the State of Georgia, the white schools get four dollars and the Negro one dollar; and even then the white public-school system, save in the cities, is bad and cries for reform. If this is true of the whites, what of the blacks? I am becoming more and more convinced, as I look upon the system of common-school training in the South, that the national government must soon step in and aid popular education in some way. To-day it has been only by the most strenuous efforts on the part of the thinking men of the South that the Negro’s share of the school fund has not been cut down to a pittance in some half-dozen States; and that movement not only is not dead, but in many communities is gaining strength. What in the name of reason does this nation expect of a people, poorly trained and hard pressed in severe economic competition, without political rights, and with ludicrously inadequate common-school facilities? What can it expect but crime and listlessness, offset here and there by the dogged struggles of the fortunate and more determined who are themselves buoyed by the hope that in due time the country will come to its senses?

Outside the home, however, public schools can become the greatest means of raising decent, self-respecting citizens. Recently, we have been so caught up in debating trade schools and higher education that we have almost lost sight of the South’s public schools. The public-school system there is in a pitiful state. Of every five dollars spent on public education in Georgia, white schools get four dollars and Black schools get one. Even with that funding, the white public-school system outside the cities is poor and desperately needs reform. If that is true for white people, what about Black people? As I examine basic schooling in the South, I become increasingly convinced that the national government must soon step in. It must help provide education for the public in some way. So far, only the most strenuous efforts by thoughtful men in the South have protected Black school funding. Those efforts have kept the Black share from being cut to almost nothing in some six states. But the movement to cut that funding is not dead. In many communities, it is growing stronger. What, in the name of reason, does this nation expect from Black people under these conditions? They have little training, face fierce economic competition, lack political rights, and have laughably inadequate public schools. What can the nation expect but crime and apathy? Here and there, the dogged struggles of the fortunate and more determined offer a counterweight. Those strivers themselves draw strength from the hope that, in time, the country will come to its senses.

I have thus far sought to make clear the physical, economic, and political relations of the Negroes and whites in the South, as I have conceived them, including, for the reasons set forth, crime and education. But after all that has been said on these more tangible matters of human contact, there still remains a part essential to a proper description of the South which it is difficult to describe or fix in terms easily understood by strangers. It is, in fine, the atmosphere of the land, the thought and feeling, the thousand and one little actions which go to make up life. In any community or nation it is these little things which are most elusive to the grasp and yet most essential to any clear conception of the group life taken as a whole. What is thus true of all communities is peculiarly true of the South, where, outside of written history and outside of printed law, there has been going on for a generation as deep a storm and stress of human souls, as intense a ferment of feeling, as intricate a writhing of spirit, as ever a people experienced. Within and without the sombre veil of color vast social forces have been at work,—efforts for human betterment, movements toward disintegration and despair, tragedies and comedies in social and economic life, and a swaying and lifting and sinking of human hearts which have made this land a land of mingled sorrow and joy, of change and excitement and unrest.

So far, I have tried to explain how I understand the physical, economic, and political relations between Black and white Southerners. For the reasons already given, I have included crime and education. But beyond these more concrete forms of human contact, something essential to a full description of the South remains. This essential part is difficult to describe or explain in terms that outsiders can easily understand. It is the atmosphere of the land, its thoughts and feelings, and the countless small actions that make up life. In any community or nation, these small things are the hardest to grasp. Yet they are also the most essential to understanding the life of the group as a whole. This is especially true of the South. There, beyond written history and printed law, human souls have endured a generation of profound turmoil. Feelings have churned as intensely, and spirits have struggled as painfully and intricately, as any people have ever experienced. Within and beyond the dark veil of color, powerful social forces have been at work. There have been efforts to improve human life, alongside movements toward breakdown and despair. There have been tragedies and comedies in social and economic life. Human hearts have wavered, risen, and fallen. Together, these forces have made the South a land of mingled sorrow and joy, of change, excitement, and unrest.

The centre of this spiritual turmoil has ever been the millions of black freedmen and their sons, whose destiny is so fatefully bound up with that of the nation. And yet the casual observer visiting the South sees at first little of this. He notes the growing frequency of dark faces as he rides along,—but otherwise the days slip lazily on, the sun shines, and this little world seems as happy and contented as other worlds he has visited. Indeed, on the question of questions—the Negro problem—he hears so little that there almost seems to be a conspiracy of silence; the morning papers seldom mention it, and then usually in a far-fetched academic way, and indeed almost every one seems to forget and ignore the darker half of the land, until the astonished visitor is inclined to ask if after all there IS any problem here. But if he lingers long enough there comes the awakening: perhaps in a sudden whirl of passion which leaves him gasping at its bitter intensity; more likely in a gradually dawning sense of things he had not at first noticed. Slowly but surely his eyes begin to catch the shadows of the color-line: here he meets crowds of Negroes and whites; then he is suddenly aware that he cannot discover a single dark face; or again at the close of a day’s wandering he may find himself in some strange assembly, where all faces are tinged brown or black, and where he has the vague, uncomfortable feeling of the stranger. He realizes at last that silently, resistlessly, the world about flows by him in two great streams: they ripple on in the same sunshine, they approach and mingle their waters in seeming carelessness,—then they divide and flow wide apart. It is done quietly; no mistakes are made, or if one occurs, the swift arm of the law and of public opinion swings down for a moment, as when the other day a black man and a white woman were arrested for talking together on Whitehall Street in Atlanta.

At the center of this spiritual turmoil have always been millions of formerly enslaved black people and their sons. Their destiny is bound so deeply to the nation’s own. Yet a casual visitor to the South sees little of this turmoil at first. As he travels, he notices black faces becoming more frequent. Otherwise, the days pass lazily, the sun shines, and this little world seems as happy and contented as others he has visited. Indeed, he hears so little about the greatest question, the Negro problem, that there almost seems a conspiracy of silence. The morning papers seldom mention the problem. When they do, they usually discuss it in a strained, academic way. Indeed, almost everyone seems to forget and ignore the darker half of the land. The astonished visitor begins to wonder whether there IS any problem here after all. But if he stays long enough, an awakening comes. Perhaps a sudden outburst of passion leaves him gasping at its bitter intensity. More likely, he gradually becomes aware of things he had not noticed at first. Slowly but surely, his eyes begin to see the shadows of the color-line. Here he encounters crowds of Negroes and whites. Then he suddenly realizes he cannot find a single black face. Or, after a day of wandering, he may find himself in an unfamiliar gathering where every face is brown or black. There he has the vague, uncomfortable feeling of being a stranger. At last he realizes that the world around him flows silently and irresistibly past him in two great streams. Both streams ripple in the same sunshine. Their waters approach and mingle, seemingly without concern, then divide and flow far apart. The separation happens quietly. No mistakes are made. Or, if a mistake occurs, the swift arm of the law and public opinion swings down for a moment. Just the other day, a black man and a white woman were arrested for talking together on Whitehall Street in Atlanta.

Now if one notices carefully one will see that between these two worlds, despite much physical contact and daily intermingling, there is almost no community of intellectual life or point of transference where the thoughts and feelings of one race can come into direct contact and sympathy with the thoughts and feelings of the other. Before and directly after the war, when all the best of the Negroes were domestic servants in the best of the white families, there were bonds of intimacy, affection, and sometimes blood relationship, between the races. They lived in the same home, shared in the family life, often attended the same church, and talked and conversed with each other. But the increasing civilization of the Negro since then has naturally meant the development of higher classes: there are increasing numbers of ministers, teachers, physicians, merchants, mechanics, and independent farmers, who by nature and training are the aristocracy and leaders of the blacks. Between them, however, and the best element of the whites, there is little or no intellectual commerce. They go to separate churches, they live in separate sections, they are strictly separated in all public gatherings, they travel separately, and they are beginning to read different papers and books. To most libraries, lectures, concerts, and museums, Negroes are either not admitted at all, or on terms peculiarly galling to the pride of the very classes who might otherwise be attracted. The daily paper chronicles the doings of the black world from afar with no great regard for accuracy; and so on, throughout the category of means for intellectual communication,—schools, conferences, efforts for social betterment, and the like,—it is usually true that the very representatives of the two races, who for mutual benefit and the welfare of the land ought to be in complete understanding and sympathy, are so far strangers that one side thinks all whites are narrow and prejudiced, and the other thinks educated Negroes dangerous and insolent. Moreover, in a land where the tyranny of public opinion and the intolerance of criticism is for obvious historical reasons so strong as in the South, such a situation is extremely difficult to correct. The white man, as well as the Negro, is bound and barred by the color-line, and many a scheme of friendliness and philanthropy, of broad-minded sympathy and generous fellowship between the two has dropped still-born because some busybody has forced the color-question to the front and brought the tremendous force of unwritten law against the innovators.

Look closely at these two worlds. Despite frequent physical contact and daily mixing, the two races share almost no intellectual life. There is almost no place where their thoughts and feelings can meet directly in mutual understanding. Before and immediately after the war, all the best Black people were domestic servants in the best white families. Bonds of closeness, affection, and sometimes blood relationship connected the races. Black servants lived in the same homes as white families and shared in family life. They often attended the same church and talked with one another. But Black people's growing education and social advancement since then have naturally brought the development of higher social classes. There are growing numbers of ministers, teachers, physicians, merchants, skilled workers, and independent farmers. By their abilities and training, these people form the Black upper class and its leadership. Yet these Black leaders have little or no intellectual exchange with the best members of white society. The two groups attend separate churches and live in separate neighborhoods. They are strictly separated at all public gatherings, travel separately, and are beginning to read different newspapers and books. Most libraries, lectures, concerts, and museums either exclude Black people entirely or admit them under especially humiliating conditions. Those conditions wound the pride of the very classes who might otherwise be drawn to these places and events. The daily newspaper reports on the Black world from a distance, with little concern for accuracy. The same pattern usually holds across other means of intellectual communication: schools, conferences, efforts to improve society, and similar activities. For their mutual benefit and the country's welfare, the representatives of both races ought to share full understanding and sympathy. Yet these representatives are usually such strangers that one side thinks all white people are narrow-minded and prejudiced. The other side thinks educated Black people are dangerous and insolent. Moreover, correcting this situation is extremely difficult in the South. For obvious historical reasons, public opinion there is powerfully oppressive, and criticism meets strong intolerance. White people, as well as Black people, are constrained and shut out by the color line. Many efforts at friendship, charitable help, open-minded sympathy, and generous fellowship between the races have died before they could begin. They failed because some busybody pushed the race question to the forefront and turned powerful unwritten rules against the innovators.

It is hardly necessary for me to add very much in regard to the social contact between the races. Nothing has come to replace that finer sympathy and love between some masters and house servants which the radical and more uncompromising drawing of the color-line in recent years has caused almost completely to disappear. In a world where it means so much to take a man by the hand and sit beside him, to look frankly into his eyes and feel his heart beating with red blood; in a world where a social cigar or a cup of tea together means more than legislative halls and magazine articles and speeches,—one can imagine the consequences of the almost utter absence of such social amenities between estranged races, whose separation extends even to parks and streetcars.

I hardly need to add much about social contact between the races. Nothing has replaced the deeper sympathy and love that once existed between some masters and house servants. In recent years, stricter and more uncompromising racial boundaries have made those feelings almost completely disappear. We live in a world where taking a man by the hand and sitting beside him means so much. So does looking openly into his eyes and feeling his heart beating with red blood. In such a world, sharing a cigar or a cup of tea means more than legislatures, magazine articles, and speeches. One can imagine, then, the consequences when such friendly encounters are almost entirely absent between estranged races. Their separation extends even to parks and streetcars.

Here there can be none of that social going down to the people,—the opening of heart and hand of the best to the worst, in generous acknowledgment of a common humanity and a common destiny. On the other hand, in matters of simple almsgiving, where there can be no question of social contact, and in the succor of the aged and sick, the South, as if stirred by a feeling of its unfortunate limitations, is generous to a fault. The black beggar is never turned away without a good deal more than a crust, and a call for help for the unfortunate meets quick response. I remember, one cold winter, in Atlanta, when I refrained from contributing to a public relief fund lest Negroes should be discriminated against, I afterward inquired of a friend: “Were any black people receiving aid?” “Why,” said he, “they were all black.”

Here, there can be no social outreach to the people by those considered the best toward those considered the worst. There can be no opening of hearts and hands in generous recognition of a shared humanity and destiny. On the other hand, the South is generous to a fault in giving charity without any possibility of social contact. The same is true of aid to the elderly and sick. It is as if the South feels moved by an awareness of its unfortunate limitations. A black beggar is never turned away without much more than a crust of bread. An appeal for help for the unfortunate gets a quick response. I remember one cold winter in Atlanta when I held back from contributing to a public relief fund. I feared that Negroes would face discrimination. Afterward, I asked a friend: “Were any black people receiving aid?” “Why,” he said, “they were all black.”

And yet this does not touch the kernel of the problem. Human advancement is not a mere question of almsgiving, but rather of sympathy and cooperation among classes who would scorn charity. And here is a land where, in the higher walks of life, in all the higher striving for the good and noble and true, the color-line comes to separate natural friends and coworkers; while at the bottom of the social group, in the saloon, the gambling-hell, and the brothel, that same line wavers and disappears.

And yet this does not reach the heart of the problem. Human progress is not simply a matter of giving to those in need. Rather, it requires understanding and cooperation among social classes whose members would scorn charity. Yet here is a country where the color line divides natural friends and coworkers in the higher levels of life. It separates them in all their efforts to pursue what is good, noble, and true. But at the bottom of society, in bars, gambling dens, and brothels, that same color line blurs and disappears.

I have sought to paint an average picture of real relations between the sons of master and man in the South. I have not glossed over matters for policy’s sake, for I fear we have already gone too far in that sort of thing. On the other hand, I have sincerely sought to let no unfair exaggerations creep in. I do not doubt that in some Southern communities conditions are better than those I have indicated; while I am no less certain that in other communities they are far worse.

I have tried to give a typical picture of actual relations between the sons of masters and servants in the South. I have not glossed over problems for strategic reasons, because I fear we have already gone too far in doing so. On the other hand, I have sincerely tried to avoid any unfair exaggerations. I do not doubt that conditions in some Southern communities are better than I have described. But I am just as certain that conditions in other communities are far worse.

Nor does the paradox and danger of this situation fail to interest and perplex the best conscience of the South. Deeply religious and intensely democratic as are the mass of the whites, they feel acutely the false position in which the Negro problems place them. Such an essentially honest-hearted and generous people cannot cite the caste-levelling precepts of Christianity, or believe in equality of opportunity for all men, without coming to feel more and more with each generation that the present drawing of the color-line is a flat contradiction to their beliefs and professions. But just as often as they come to this point, the present social condition of the Negro stands as a menace and a portent before even the most open-minded: if there were nothing to charge against the Negro but his blackness or other physical peculiarities, they argue, the problem would be comparatively simple; but what can we say to his ignorance, shiftlessness, poverty, and crime? can a self-respecting group hold anything but the least possible fellowship with such persons and survive? and shall we let a mawkish sentiment sweep away the culture of our fathers or the hope of our children? The argument so put is of great strength, but it is not a whit stronger than the argument of thinking Negroes: granted, they reply, that the condition of our masses is bad; there is certainly on the one hand adequate historical cause for this, and unmistakable evidence that no small number have, in spite of tremendous disadvantages, risen to the level of American civilization. And when, by proscription and prejudice, these same Negroes are classed with and treated like the lowest of their people, simply because they are Negroes, such a policy not only discourages thrift and intelligence among black men, but puts a direct premium on the very things you complain of,—inefficiency and crime. Draw lines of crime, of incompetency, of vice, as tightly and uncompromisingly as you will, for these things must be proscribed; but a color-line not only does not accomplish this purpose, but thwarts it.

The contradiction and danger of this situation also trouble and puzzle the South’s most conscientious people. Most white Southerners are deeply religious and strongly committed to democracy. They feel keenly how questions concerning Black people put them at odds with their own beliefs. Such fundamentally honest and generous people cannot avoid this conflict. They cite Christianity’s teachings against caste divisions and believe in equal opportunity for all men. Yet with each generation, they increasingly recognize that the existing racial boundary directly contradicts their beliefs and stated principles. But whenever white Southerners reach this conclusion, the present social condition of Black people alarms even the most open-minded. If Black people faced no charge beyond their skin color or other physical differences, these Southerners argue, the problem would be relatively simple. But what can we say about their ignorance, laziness, poverty, and crime? Can any self-respecting group survive while maintaining more than the slightest contact with such people? Should we let excessive sentimentality sweep away our fathers’ culture or our children’s hopes? Presented this way, the argument is powerful. But it is no stronger than the argument made by thoughtful Black people. We admit, they reply, that conditions among the majority of our people are bad. But history certainly gives adequate reasons for these conditions. And unmistakable evidence shows that a considerable number have reached the level of American civilization despite tremendous disadvantages. Yet racial exclusion and prejudice place these same Black people alongside the lowest of their people. They are treated the same simply because they are Black. Such a policy discourages thrift and intelligence among Black people. It also directly rewards the very things you complain about: inefficiency and crime. Draw boundaries against crime, incompetence, and vice as strictly and firmly as you wish, because these things must be rejected. But a racial boundary not only fails to serve this purpose. It works against that purpose.

In the face of two such arguments, the future of the South depends on the ability of the representatives of these opposing views to see and appreciate and sympathize with each other’s position,—for the Negro to realize more deeply than he does at present the need of uplifting the masses of his people, for the white people to realize more vividly than they have yet done the deadening and disastrous effect of a color-prejudice that classes Phillis Wheatley and Sam Hose in the same despised class.

Faced with these two arguments, the South’s future depends on whether representatives of these opposing views can understand and sympathize with each other’s positions. Black people must recognize more deeply than they do now the need to improve conditions for the masses of their people. White people must recognize more clearly than they have so far the numbing and disastrous effects of racial prejudice. Such prejudice places Phillis Wheatley and Sam Hose in the same despised class.

It is not enough for the Negroes to declare that color-prejudice is the sole cause of their social condition, nor for the white South to reply that their social condition is the main cause of prejudice. They both act as reciprocal cause and effect, and a change in neither alone will bring the desired effect. Both must change, or neither can improve to any great extent. The Negro cannot stand the present reactionary tendencies and unreasoning drawing of the color-line indefinitely without discouragement and retrogression. And the condition of the Negro is ever the excuse for further discrimination. Only by a union of intelligence and sympathy across the color-line in this critical period of the Republic shall justice and right triumph,

It is not enough for Black people to say racial prejudice is the sole cause of their social conditions. Nor is it enough for the white South to say those conditions are the main cause of prejudice. Each is both a cause and an effect of the other. Changing only one will not bring the desired result. Both must change, or neither can improve very much. Black people cannot endure the current backward-looking trends and irrational racial divisions indefinitely without losing hope and ground. Yet Black people's condition is always used to excuse further discrimination. Only through understanding and sympathy across racial divisions in this critical period of the Republic can justice and right prevail.