Strom Thurmond & the Politics of Southern Change

Rating:
Summary: A fair account of the politics of racial upheaval
Review: Published only a decade ago, the tenor of Strom Thurmond & the Politics of Southern Change seems quaint in its occasional indignation. Yet it also gives context to the firestorm that erupted when then-Senate Majority Leader Trent Lott recently proclaimed that America would have been better off if Thurmond had defeated President Harry Truman in 1948. As author Nadine Cohodas' work shows, even Sen. Thurmond may not agree with Lott these days.

The Politics of Southern Change, it could be argued, does not devote enough attention to Thurmond's Dixiecrat presidential campaign. From a historic standpoint, Thurmond's most important political decision was to bolt the Democrats and run on a pro-segregationist platform; it is almost a given that in the future this will be the lead in Thurmond's obituary. Yet Cohodas attempts to give a complete picture of a man whose life almost is a metaphor for Southern politics as he evolves from a Yellow Dog Democrat to a Dixiecrat and finally becomes a conventional Republican. The author could not focus solely on the 1948 presidential campaign and tell the whole story of the man and the political and racial tumult of the times. Instead, Cohodas traces Thurmond's remarkable career from his stint as a humble school official, a progressive governor, and finally as a United States senator who transformed with the times. In the process, she avoids what easily could have been a one-dimensional account of the senator, who recently retired and turned 100 years old.

The Thurmond who emerges is a complex man who could be an opportunistic, hate-filled race baiter and at other times a truly courageous figure who put his principles first. Cohodas describes a politician better than many of his contemporaries, including the notorious racist governor "Pitchfork" Ben Tillman, but a leader who also appears unable to connect his words and actions to the violence committed against innocent black Southerners who simply wanted to vote and participate in society. Yet as blacks gain the franchise, Thurmond adjusts to court their votes in the two-party contemporary South.

Cohodas tries, with mixed results, to make the case that while most white Southern politicians embraced segregation and racist views until the civil rights movement triumphed, a schism always was below the surface between those who would now be considered "liberal" or "conservative." Thus, with the victory of the civil rights movement, arch-segregationists such as Senator William Fulbright come to represent conventional liberal Democrats, and former race-baiters like Thurmond become traditional Republican conservatives. The glue that held together the one-party South was segregation, and once it ended so did Democratic dominance in the region. Cohodas falls short in explaining these dynamics, which are subtle, difficult to understand, and a harsh reality for members of both major parties to admit. At times, she seems to give a pass to people who are now considered left-of-center Democrats like South Carolina Senator Fritz Hollings, who once held the very same racist beliefs as Thurmond did. The author also glosses over a reality that amused Thurmond and outraged the Rev. Martin Luther King: the rank hypocrisy that whites outside the South demonstrated when attempts were made and often failed to end de facto (and in some cases de jure) segregation in other regions of the country.

Cohodas avoids tabloid pursuit of Thurmond's alleged black child, but she also omits other personal details that leaves the reader with questions. Among these are the reasons that led to the senator's divorce from his second wife, Nancy.

Ultimately, though, this is the story of how a well-bred boy from rough-hewn upcountry Carolina became a national figure and symbolized the transformation of a region and the country as a whole. Thurmond's and the South's long journey into modernity make for a fascinating and important read.

Rating:
Summary: A fair account of the politics of racial upheaval
Review: Published only a decade ago, the tenor of Strom Thurmond & the Politics of Southern Change seems quaint in its occasional indignation. Yet it also gives context to the firestorm that erupted when then-Senate Majority Leader Trent Lott recently proclaimed that America would have been better off if Thurmond had defeated President Harry Truman in 1948. As author Nadine Cohodas' work shows, even Sen. Thurmond may not agree with Lott these days.

The Politics of Southern Change, it could be argued, does not devote enough attention to Thurmond's Dixiecrat presidential campaign. From a historic standpoint, Thurmond's most important political decision was to bolt the Democrats and run on a pro-segregationist platform; it is almost a given that in the future this will be the lead in Thurmond's obituary. Yet Cohodas attempts to give a complete picture of a man whose life almost is a metaphor for Southern politics as he evolves from a Yellow Dog Democrat to a Dixiecrat and finally becomes a conventional Republican. The author could not focus solely on the 1948 presidential campaign and tell the whole story of the man and the political and racial tumult of the times. Instead, Cohodas traces Thurmond's remarkable career from his stint as a humble school official, a progressive governor, and finally as a United States senator who transformed with the times. In the process, she avoids what easily could have been a one-dimensional account of the senator, who recently retired and turned 100 years old.

The Thurmond who emerges is a complex man who could be an opportunistic, hate-filled race baiter and at other times a truly courageous figure who put his principles first. Cohodas describes a politician better than many of his contemporaries, including the notorious racist governor "Pitchfork" Ben Tillman, but a leader who also appears unable to connect his words and actions to the violence committed against innocent black Southerners who simply wanted to vote and participate in society. Yet as blacks gain the franchise, Thurmond adjusts to court their votes in the two-party contemporary South.

Cohodas tries, with mixed results, to make the case that while most white Southern politicians embraced segregation and racist views until the civil rights movement triumphed, a schism always was below the surface between those who would now be considered "liberal" or "conservative." Thus, with the victory of the civil rights movement, arch-segregationists such as Senator William Fulbright come to represent conventional liberal Democrats, and former race-baiters like Thurmond become traditional Republican conservatives. The glue that held together the one-party South was segregation, and once it ended so did Democratic dominance in the region. Cohodas falls short in explaining these dynamics, which are subtle, difficult to understand, and a harsh reality for members of both major parties to admit. At times, she seems to give a pass to people who are now considered left-of-center Democrats like South Carolina Senator Fritz Hollings, who once held the very same racist beliefs as Thurmond did. The author also glosses over a reality that amused Thurmond and outraged the Rev. Martin Luther King: the rank hypocrisy that whites outside the South demonstrated when attempts were made and often failed to end de facto (and in some cases de jure) segregation in other regions of the country.

Cohodas avoids tabloid pursuit of Thurmond's alleged black child, but she also omits other personal details that leaves the reader with questions. Among these are the reasons that led to the senator's divorce from his second wife, Nancy.

Ultimately, though, this is the story of how a well-bred boy from rough-hewn upcountry Carolina became a national figure and symbolized the transformation of a region and the country as a whole. Thurmond's and the South's long journey into modernity make for a fascinating and important read.