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Como bien ha analizado la historiadora Joanne Freeman en su excelente libro Field of Blood: Congressional Violence in Antebellum America (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2018), previo a la guerra civil el Capitolio era un lugar peligroso. Separados cada vez más por el tema de la esclavitud, los legisladores recurrieron a métodos más violentos para tratar de imponer su posición. En otras palabras, la guerra de secesión se comenzó a pelear en los hemiciclos del Congreso años antes de que la primera bomba confederada cayera sobre Fort Sumter el fatídico día 12 de abril de 1861.

En este nota que comparto con mis lectores, la escritora Livia Gershon comenta uno de los episodios más famosos de violencia ocurridos en el Capitolio. El 22 de mayo de 1856, el Representante Preston S. Brooks, un esclavista de Carolina del Sur, atacó con una bastón al senador por el estado de Massachussets y abolicionistas, Charles Sumner. El severo ataque fue en respuesta a un discurso de Sumner criticando a la esclavitud y a los senadores que la defendían.

En el contexto del asalto contra del Capitolio el pasado 6 de enero, creo conveniente continuar subrayando que la violencia es un elemento intrínseco en la historia política estadounidense.


A dramatic portrayal of the 1856 attack and severe beating of Massachusetts senator Charles Sumner by Representative Preston S. Brooks of South Carolina.

A dramatic portrayal of the 1856 attack and severe beating of Massachusetts senator Charles Sumner by Representative Preston S. Brooks of South Carolina
via LOC

Political Divisions Led to Violence in the U.S. Senate in 1856

The horrific caning of Charles Sumner on the floor of the Senate in 1856 marked one of the most divisive moments in U.S. political history.

As we prepare for a new term of government in the wake of the recent insurrection at the U.S. Capitol, we might wonder just how contentious federal politics can get. But let’s not forget that time when South Carolina congressman Preston Smith Brooks assaulted Massachusetts senator Charles Sumner with a cane in the Senate chamber, beating him so badly that his skull was exposed and he lost consciousness, was covered in blood, and nearly died. As historian Manisha Sinha writes, this 1856 attack highlighted and magnified the divisions that would cause the country to come apart less than five years later.

Charles Sumner | American Battlefield TrustWhen Sumner joined the Senate in 1851, Sinha writes, his anti-slavery beliefs quickly made him enemies. Opponents blocked him from committee appointments, denied him the floor, and heckled him when he spoke.

Brooks’s attack came after Sumner gave his May 1856 speech “The Crime Against Kansas,” in which he condemned the actions of pro-slavery forces. Brooks claimed that he was provoked by Sumner’s insulting words about another senator, who was a distant relation of his. But, Sinha points out, under the prevailing southern code of honor, the appropriate response to a personal insult from a social equal would be a challenge to duel. Instead, Brooks resorted to a form of violence reserved for social inferiors—notably including the enslaved. Many southerners praised Brooks specifically for using a demeaning form of physical force. As a public letter to Brooks from five Charleston residents put it, “You have put the Senator from Massachusetts where he should be. You have applied a blow to his back… His submission to your blows has now qualified him for the closest companionship with a degraded class.”

Charles Sumner

Senator Charles Sumner was beaten nearly to death by Representative Preston Brooks on the Senate floor in 1856
via Flickr/Boston Public Library

Sinha writes that abolitionists drew the same comparison, to different ends. The New York Tribune asked if Congress was “a slave plantation where Northern members act under the lash, the bowie-knife, and the pistol.” Robert Morris, a Black Boston lawyer, wrote to Sumner that “no persons felt more keenly and sympathized with you more deeply and sincerely than your colored constituents in Boston.”

The attack on Sumner also highlighted divisions in the nation when it came to ideas of masculinity. Some in the South reviled Sumner’s “unmanly submission.” This was in line with pro-slavery rhetoric that tied abolitionism to feminism and accused white male abolitionists of effeminate “sickly sentimentality.” Northerners, on the other hand, were more likely to embrace a bourgeois idea of masculinity rooted in self-control and to view Brooks’s attack on an unarmed man as cowardly.

For many in the North, Sinha writes, the incident called to mind the question of whether slavery was compatible with a republican form of government. The New England Anti-Slavery Convention warned that slaveholders were trying to “crush out” freedom of speech on the floor of Congress, as they had done on their plantations.

As we think about division in our own time, it’s worth considering the historical context of political anger and division in the past.

El asalto al Capitolio por partidarios del Presidente Trump el 6 de enero de 2021 ha provocado infinidad de comentarios. Muchos lo han visto como un evento excepcional que no retrata ni refleja a los Estados Unidos.  Nada más alejado de la realidad.  En este artículo publicado por el diario La vanguardia, el escritor Francisco Martínez Hoyos  examina casos previos de violencia política y de intentonas golpistas.

Captura de pantalla 2021-01-14 a la(s) 16.36.23

De Newburgh a los Proud Boys: el golpismo antes de Trump

FRANCISCO MARTÍNEZ HOYOS

El mundo entero presenció los hechos con más o menos incredulidad. En Estados Unidos, la democracia más antigua de cuantas existen en el planeta, una horda de partidarios del presidente Trump irrumpía en el Capitolio mientras el Congreso ratificaba la victoria electoral de Joe Biden. Tras los incidentes planea la inquietante sombra del golpismo. Por sorprendente que parezca al tratarse de una república como la norteamericana, con una arraigada tradición de libertades, no es la primera vez que se lanza allí una amenaza contra el poder emanado del pueblo.

Cuando se produjo el primer peligro para la república, la conspiración de Newburgh, aún no había terminado la guerra de Independencia contra los británicos. En marzo de 1783, las tropas del ejército patriota estaban descontentas porque llevaban meses sin cobrar y no habían recibido de las pensiones vitalicias prometidas, que consistían en la mitad de la paga. Se difundió entonces una carta anónima que proponía resolver el problema con un acto contra el Congreso que no llegaba especificarse.

Ante la gravedad, el general Washington intervino de inmediato. En un emotivo discurso, emplazó a sus oficiales a mantenerse fieles al poder legislativo. Todo quedó en un susto cuando el Congreso satisfizo algunos atrasos a los soldados y les ofreció, en lugar de la proyectada pensión, cinco años de paga completa.

La estabilidad política norteamericana volvió a verse amenazada a principios del siglo XIX. Esta vez, el responsable fue un antiguo héroe de la guerra de la Independencia, Aaron Burr, protagonista de una carrera política tan polémica como turbulenta. Tras ocupar la vicepresidencia en el gabinete de Thomas Jefferson, entre 1801 y 1805, intervino en un plan para crear un nuevo estado con territorios mexicanos que serían arrebatos a España. Tal vez, esta hipotética nación también estaría integrada por territorios del Oeste de Estados Unidos, que se desgajarían de la Unión.

Retrato de Aaron Burr, por John Vanderlyn

Retrato de Aaron Burr, por John Vanderlyn.  Dominio público

¿Intentó, además, derrocar por la violencia al gobierno de Washington? Él aseguró que no, pero todo el asunto era lo bastante turbio como para que nada se pudiera dar por seguro. Uno de sus amigos y cómplices, el general James Wilkinson, que resultó ser un espía al servicio de los españoles, acabó por denunciar sus actividades. Burr sería juzgado por traición, aunque declarado inocente. Desde entonces, su controvertida figura ha suscitado un amplio debate.

A nivel estatal

No todo el golpismo se encaminaba a un cambio de poder en el conjunto del país. También se dieron intentonas en algunos los estados de la Unión, como Arkansas. Fue allí donde Joseph Brooks perdió las elecciones para gobernador en 1872. Al estar convencido de que su derrota no había sido justa, dos años después decidió alzarse en armas contra su antiguo rival, el también republicano Elisha Baxter. Contaba con el apoyo de una milicia de más de 600 hombres frente los 2.000 que respaldaban a Baxter.

La pugna violenta entre los dos líderes obligó al ejército federal a interponerse entre sus respectivos partidarios. Brooks acabó destituido, pero el presidente Grant le concedió un cargo en la administración de Correos de Little Rock.

Fue también en 1874 cuando la Liga Blanca, una organización paramilitar de antiguos confederados, se rebeló contra el gobierno de Luisiana en nombre del supremacismo blanco. Para sus partidarios, dar más oportunidades a la población negra significaba ejercer una tiranía. Ante los disturbios, las tropas federales tuvieron que intervenir y obligar a los rebeldes a retirarse.

Contra Roosevelt

Casi sesenta años después, en 1933, tuvo lugar un oscuro episodio, el Business Plot. Un prestigioso general retirado, Smedley Butler, afirmó que un grupo de capitalistas y banqueros le había tanteado para que encabezara un golpe de Estado fascista contra Roosevelt.

En aquellos momentos, en plena Gran Depresión, las gentes adineradas veían con suspicacia al presidente. Su política reformista, basada en la intervención del poder público sobre la economía, le había convertido en sospechoso de socialismo o comunismo. Lo cierto es que Roosevelt se proponía solucionar los problemas del capitalismo para que el sistema funcionara otra vez.

Smedley Butler con uniforme en una imagen sin datar

Smedley Butler con uniforme en una imagen sin datar
 Dominio público

Se suponía que Butler debía derrocar al gobierno al frente de una organización de veteranos de la Primera Guerra Mundial. En esos momentos, el descontento cundía entre los antiguos soldados. Un año antes, un movimiento de protesta había reclamado en Washington el pago de los bonos prometidos por el Congreso. El general MacArthur, futuro héroe en la lucha contra los japoneses, reprimió sin contemplaciones a los manifestantes.

Según Butler, los conjurados buscaban a un hombre fuerte al servicio de Wall Street. Partidario convencido de la democracia, el antiguo militar se negó en redondo a proporcionarles cualquier tipo de apoyo. Sin embargo, las personas a las que implicó negaron su intervención y finalmente no pasó nada. La prensa restó importancia al asunto, como si todo hubiera sido una fantasía.

En 1958, el historiador Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr. señaló que pudo existir un plan sobre el papel sin que se diera ningún intento de llevarlo a cabo. Otros autores han concedido mayor relevancia a la conspiración. En 2007, Scott Horton, abogado conocido por su labor a favor de los derechos humanos, afirmó que entre los cómplices del Business Plot se hallaba Prescott Bush. Este banquero fue el padre del presidente George H. W. Bush y el abuelo de George W. Bush. Su implicación, a día de hoy, es un tema controvertido.

La intentona fracasó, pero fue más seria de lo que muchos quisieron admitir. Para cuestionarla se argumentó que era inverosímil que un grupo de extremistas de derechas se pusiera en contacto con un hombre como Butler, de conocido antifascismo. Pero para Roberto Muñoz Bolaños precisamente su fama de progresista lo convertía en una figura interesante para los artífices del plan. Se trataba, según este historiador, de “crear una situación de inestabilidad, que permitiera un cambio político radical y un giro autoritario en el sistema político”.

Nikita Kruschev y John Kennedy en un encuentro de 1961.

Nikita Kruschev y John Kennedy en un encuentro de 1961.

La mayoría de militares estadounidenses se han distinguido por su obediencia a las autoridades civiles, pero eso no significa que estén desprovistos de influencia. En 1961, al abandonar la presidencia, Eisenhower hizo un conocido discurso en el que advirtió a sus compatriotas contra los peligros del “complejo militar-industrial”, una alianza entre los mandos del Ejército y los fabricantes de armas. Unos y otros habían alcanzado el suficiente poder como para inmiscuirse en las decisiones de los políticos elegidos por el pueblo.

Este peligro se hizo patente durante la crisis de los misiles, en la que Estados Unidos y la Unión Soviética estuvieron al borde de una guerra nuclear. Miembros de la cúpula militar presionaron para que el presidente Kennedy respondiera a Moscú con la máxima contundencia por la instalación en Cuba de armamento atómico. Si eso significaba el uso del arsenal nuclear, que así fuera.

En el momento de mayor tensión, Kennedy avisó a Jruschov, el mandatario ruso, de que el Pentágono podía patrocinar un golpe en su contra si no se encontraba una salida a la pugna entre ambos países.

Donald Trump ha alentado actitudes golpistas al anunciar que no estaba dispuesto a acatar el resultado de las elecciones de noviembre. Poca duda hay de que su política populista ha ahondado en Estados Unidos una fractura social con incalculables consecuencias. ¿Qué salida cabe? El asalto al Congreso nos hace recordar una conocida cita de Jefferson, acerca de los deberes de todos los demócratas: “El precio de la libertad es la eterna vigilancia”.

Una de las pocas cosas que podríamos denominar como “positivas” de la pandemia, es que el distanciamiento social nos obligó a buscar nuevos mecanismos para compartir y circular el conocimiento. Es así como las videoconferencias en la red -los famosos webinar­- se convirtieron en herramientas muy útiles para  acceder a conferencias, seminarios y presentaciones de las que en “tiempos normales” no habríamos podido participar. Gracias a Zoom, Blackboard Collaborate, Facebook Life y otras plataformas, he podido acceder conferencias de colegas en Estados Unidos, Puerto Rico, Inglaterra, Argentina, etc.

Una de esas actividades es la presentación del libro de la colega Valeria L. Carbone, Una historia del movimiento negro estadounidense en la era post derechos civiles (1968-1988) (Universidad de Valencia, 2020). Producto de su tesis doctoral “Racismo, Raza y clase en la lucha de base y resistencia de los afro-estaunidenses durante 1968-1988” (UBA, 2017), este libro examina el desarrollo de la lucha de los afro estadounidenses en el periodo posterior a aprobación de las históricas  Ley de Derechos Civiles (1964) y la Ley de Derecho al Voto (1965). Como no he leído esta obra, comparto la descripción que la acompaña:

La presente obra analiza la evolucion de la lucha y la resistencia de los afro-norteamericanos a lo largo de las décadas de 1970 y 1980 desde una perspectiva que incorp ora las categorías de racismo, raza y clase. Desde la centralidad de las elaboraciones discursivas e institucionales de las nociones de raza y racismo, así como desde el papel fundamental que ha adquirido la ideología de la supremacía de la raza blanca en el devenir historico estadounidense, la poblacion negra ha entendido su lucha desde la nocion de raza como lugar de resistencia, lo que ha delimitado sus acciones a la hora de perfilar estrategias de lucha colectiva. El estudio de determinados movimientos significativos de cada region del territorio (centro-oeste, el sur profundo, noreste, este) evidencia como estos permiten establecer conexiones y continuidades en cuanto a problemas, tácticas y estrategias, formas de organizacion, retoricas discursivas y tipos de participacion, que dieron forma a un complejo, heterogéneo y versátil proceso de incesante movilizacion nacional mediante el cual la comunidad negra desafio al racismo institucional estadounidense bajo las consignas de raza y clase.

Antes de finalizar debo destacar dos cosas. Primero, que la publicación de este libro coincidió con  la intensificación de los conflictos raciales provocada por el asesinato de George Floyd en mayo de 2020.  Segundo, que publicaciones académicas en castellano analizando la historia estadounidense son escazas o de difícil acceso dados los problemas de distribución que nos separan. Ambos factores hacen del libro de la Dra. Carbone una importante aportación que debe ser reconocida.

Invito a quienes estén interesados en estos temas a ver la presentación de este libro aquí.

Norberto Barreto Velazquez

Lima, 3 de enero de 2021

In How to Hide an Empire, Daniel Immerwahr pulls back the curtain on  American imperialism. | History | Chicago Reader

Para quienes han sido víctimas directas o indirectas del imperialismo estadounidense, hablar de su insivibilidad podría ser un chiste de mal gusto. Demasiados muertos, demasiada sangre. Sin embargo, es necesario reconocer que durante gran parte de su historia, el imperialismo estadounidense ha sido invisible -no existente- para la mayoría de los estadounidenses y sus líderes. La amnesia imperial estadounidense es una enfermedad crónica. Muchos son los ejemplos, por lo que solo mencionaré uno. Tras completar la invasión de Iraq, el entonces Secretario de Defensa de los Estados Unidos Donald Rumsfeld, realizó una especie de gira triunfal por varios países del Golfo Pérsico.  El 28 de abril de 2003, Rumsfeld y el comandante en jefe de las fuerzas estadounidense en la región el General Tommy Frank, llevaron a cabo una conferencia de prensa en la ciudad de Doha, Qatar. Durante esa conferencia de prensa un periodista de la cadena noticiosa Al Jazeera preguntó a Rumsfeld si el gobierno estadounidense estaba inclinado a la creación de un imperio en la zona. Visiblemente molesto el secretario respondió: «No buscamos un imperio. No somos imperialistas. Nunca los hemos sido. Ni siquiera puedo imaginar por qué me hace esa pregunta.»* Rumsfeld, uno de los principales responsables del peor error en la historia de la política exterior en la historia de Estados Unidos y quien se ofendía ante la insinuación de un imperio estadounidense, era entonces el «administrador» de las más de 600 bases militares estadounidenses alrededor del globo.

How to Hide an Empire' Shines Light on America's Expansionist Side - The  New York Times

Daniel Immerwahr

En los últimos veinte años, la historiografía estadounidense se ha encargado en visibilizar al imperialismo estadounidense. Me refiero a los trabajos de Amy Kaplan (QEPD), Alfred W. McCoy,  Donald Pease,  Lany Thompson,  Courtney Johnson, Anne L. Foster, Paul A. Kramer,  Kristin Hoganson, Jeremi Suri, Jorge Rodríguez Beruff, Francisco Scarano y Mariola Espinosa,  entre otros. Acabo de leerme un libro que sigue esta línea historiográfica enfocando al imperialismo estadounidense a niveles que no había visto en otras obras. Se trata de la obra de Daniel Immerwahr, How to Hide an Empire: A History of the Greater United States (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2019). El Dr. Immerwhar es profesor en el Departamento de Historia de Northwestern University en el estado de Illinois. Immerwhar es también autor de Thinking Small: The United States and the Lure of Community Development (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2015).

Debo reconocer que me acerque a este texto con dudas, pues me preguntaba qué más se podía añadir a la historiografía del imperialismo estadounidense, y, en especial, de su «invisivilidad».  Mayor fue mi sorpresa a encontrarme con una obra  que además de hilvanar una historia fascinante, hace una aportación sustantiva a lo que sabemos sobre las prácticas, ideas e instituciones del imperialismo yanqui.  No por nada ha ganado múltiples premios, entre ellos, el Robert H. Ferrell Book Prize,  de la Society for Historians of American Foreign Relations, el Publishers Weekly, Best Books of 2019  y el National Public Radio, Best Books of 2019.

Por  la naturaleza de esta bitácora y el tañamo de este libro, me limitaré a hacer algunos comentarios generales. Lo primero que quiero comentar es cómo esta escrito este libro, pues me parece uno de sus principales activos. Immerwahr hilvana una historia fascinante, muy bien escrita y documentada, superando las limitaciones típicas de los trabajos tradicionales sobre la política exterior estadounidense.

El autor construye una historia integral  del imperio estadounidense a través del análisis cronológico de su evolución con énfasis en cómo éste ha sido escondido accidental e intencionalmente. Comienza en el periodo colonial y termina en el siglo actual. Entre los eventos que destaca no necesariamente enfocados por otros autores destacan la adquisición de islas guaneras, el desarrollo de una arquitectura colonial en las Filipinas producto del trabajo de Juan Arellano, la imposición de un gobierno militar y opresivo en Hawai durante la segunda guerra mundial y los abusos cometidos contra los pobladores de la islas aleutianas durante ese conflcito.

File:US claimed atlantic guano islands.jpg - Wikimedia Commons

Islas guaneras «estadounidenses»

La segunda parte del libro -a partir del fin de la segunda guerra mundial- es la que me resulta más innovadora por cuatro puntos. El primero, la idea de que el desarrollo de toda una industria de productos sintéticos durante el conflicto contra los Nazis liberó a Estados Unidos de la dependencia en ciertas materias primas como el caucho, la quinina, etc. Esto liberó a los estadounidenses de poseer un imperio territorial, a pesar de que al termino del conflicto, controlaban una gran extensión de territorios en Asia y Europa.

Otra idea interesante tiene que ver con el siginificado imperial que el autor le asigna al desarrollo después de la guerra a la estandarización económica dominada por los estadounidense. Tras la guerra el poderío económico estadounidense hizo imposible -a países ricos y pobres- retar o rechazar los estandares definidos por Estados Unidos, lo que constituyó otra herramienta imperial.

El tercer punto que subraya el autor es el predominio del idioma inglés en la segunda mitad del siglo XX. Immerwahr analiza cómo una lengua minoritaría como el inglés se impuso como el idioma dominante a nivel académico, técnico, científico, diplomático y hasta cibernético.

Bases militares de Estados Unidos.

El cuarto y último punto tiene que ver con lo que Immerwahr denomina como «Baselandia». Tras acabada la segunda guerra mundial, los Estados Unidos no renunciaron ni abandonaron su proyecto imperial, sino que lo rehicieron a través de la estableciemiento de unas 800 bases militares a nivel global. Según el autor, éstas son, además de herramientas imperiales, el imperio estadounidense. Las bases han servido para ejercer el poder imperial de diversas formas, desde bombardear Vietnam o Irak, hasta impulsar costumbres, modos de consumo, valores, estilos musicales, etc.

Termina el autor comentando cómo diversos países lograron dominar la estandirazación, el idioma y la zona de contacto que significaban las bases, para alcanzar e inclusive superar a Estados Unidos.

Debo terminar señalando que este libro es lectura obligada para aquellos interesados en el desarrollo del imperialismo estadounidense y, en especial, para quienes combatimos su «invisibilidad».


*Eric Schmitt, Aftereffects: Military Presence; Rumsfeld Says US Will Cut Forces in the Gulf”, New York Times, April 30, 2003. Disponible en: http://query.nytimes. com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9A01EEDE103DF93AA15757C0A9659C8B63&sec=&s pon =& pagewanted=2. eeerrtyip

En 1865,  el Congreso estadounidense aprobó  una enmienda a la constitución de los Estados Unidos aboliendo la esclavitud. Esta enmienda, la número trece, fue ratificada por todos los estados de la Unión (los estados sureños rebeldes no participaron).  Aunque histórica, la enmienda 13  no acabó, realmente, con la esclavitud en Estados Unidos, sino que dejó las puertas abiertas a la injusticia y al abuso. En su primera sección, la enmienda establece que «ni en los Estados Unidos ni en ningún lugar sujeto a su jurisdicción habrá esclavitud ni trabajo forzado, excepto como castigo de un delito del que el responsable haya quedado debidamente convicto.» En los ciento cincuenta y cinco años de su existencia, esta sección ha sido utilizada para esclavizar a miles de personas, la mayoría de ellos negros. Acusados y convictos, en muchos casos por acusaciones frívolas o inventadas, negros, blancos pobres, latinos e imigrantes terminaron trabajando como esclavos en granjas estatales en el Sur, apagando fuegos forestales en el Oeste, etc.

En esta artículo publicado en The New York Times, el gran historiador estadounidense Eric Foner aborda este tema con la claridad que ha caracterizado su trabajo académico. Quienes estén intersados en este asunto podrían complementar la lectura del trabajo de Foner con el excelente documental 13th (2016) de la directora Ava DuVernay.


 We Are Not Done With Abolition

Eric Foner

New York Times     December 16, 2020

Convicts working on a prison farm in 1934.

Credit…Lomax Collection, via Library of Congress

Early this month, a group of Democratic members of Congress introduced an Abolition Amendment to the U.S. Constitution. Why, in the year 2020, does the Constitution need an amendment dealing with the abolition of slavery? Wasn’t that accomplished over a century and a half ago?

The problem is that the Thirteenth Amendment, ratified in 1865, which prohibits slavery throughout the country, allows for “involuntary servitude” as a “punishment for crime.” This loophole made possible the establishment of a giant, extremely profitable, system of convict labor, mainly affecting African-Americans, in the Jim Crow South. That system no longer exists but its legacy remains in the widespread forced labor of prisoners, who are paid far below the minimum wage. The Abolition Amendment would eliminate the Thirteenth Amendment’s “criminal exemption” by adding these words to the Constitution: “Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude may be imposed as a punishment for a crime.”

When enacted, the Thirteenth Amendment was recognized as a turning point in the history of the United States, indeed the entire world. When the House of Representatives approved it as the Civil War drew to a close, wild scenes of celebration followed. Members threw their hats in the air and embraced one another. Passage, wrote one newspaper, was “the crowning event of the war, indeed of the century.”

The Amendment’s wording, including the criminal exemption, was based on Thomas Jefferson’s proposed but never enacted Land Ordinance of 1784, which would have barred slavery in all the new nation’s territories. From there, it migrated to the Northwest Ordinance of 1787, which prohibited slavery in territories north of the Ohio River. Scholars have not explained why Jefferson devised this language. Perhaps he thought that labor was good for the character and would aid in the rehabilitation of prisoners. But the coupling of a ban on slavery with an exemption for convicted criminals quickly became embedded in American law. By the time of the Civil War, it could be found in the constitutions of a large majority of the free states. Such language survives in nearly half the state constitutions.

 

During the 1850s, Republicans, including Abraham Lincoln, popularized the claim that the Northwest Ordinance demonstrated that their new party was following the intentions of the founding fathers when it sought to bar slavery from the western territories. When it came time during the Civil War to write an amendment abolishing slavery, Charles Sumner, the abolitionist Senator from Massachusetts, proposed wording based on the 1791 French Declaration of the Rights of Man and the Citizen. His colleague Jacob Howard of Michigan rejected the idea of using a French model. “Good old Anglo-Saxon language” was adequate, he declared, and Congress gravitated to the wording of Jefferson’s ordinance.

Because of its very familiarity, the text of the Thirteenth Amendment did not undergo necessary scrutiny. The criminal exemption was almost never mentioned in congressional debates, contemporary newspapers or at antislavery conventions that endorsed the proposed amendment.

Petition · amend the 13th amendment · Change.org

But the clause did not go unnoticed by white Southerners. The all-white governments established in the South by President Andrew Johnson after the war’s end enacted laws known as the Black Codes, which sought to use the courts to consign African-Americans to involuntary labor. Black Americans who failed to sign a contract to work for a white employer could be convicted of vagrancy, fined and, if unable to pay, sold at public auction.

“Cunning rebels,” one congressman complained in 1866, were using “the exceptional clause” to reduce freed persons to slavery. In 1867, the National Anti-Slavery Standard, an abolitionist journal published in New York City, called for the passage of a new amendment eliminating the words “except as a punishment for crime.” Today’s abolition amendment seeks to accomplish the same result by other means.

Also in 1867, a Republican congressman from Iowa, John A. Kasson, introduced a resolution clarifying the “true intent” of the 13th Amendment. It was not meant, he insisted, to authorize the “sale or other disposition” of people convicted of crime. If prisoners were required to labor, this should be under the supervision of public authorities, not private individuals or companies. The resolution passed the House, but did not come to a vote in the Senate.

By this time, Congress had enacted, over Johnson’s veto, the Civil Rights Act of 1866, which mandated racial equality in judicial punishments, and had approved the 14th Amendment, requiring states to provide to all people the “equal protection of the laws.” These, senators thought, would prevent the use of the courts to victimize African-Americans, rendering Kasson’s resolution unnecessary. Time would prove them tragically wrong.

During Radical Reconstruction, when hundreds of thousands of African-Americans voted for the first time and large numbers held public office, racial bias in the criminal justice system and the forced labor of those convicted of crime remained minor problems. There were hardly any prisons or prisoners in the South. But with the overthrow of Reconstruction and the imposition of the comprehensive system of white supremacy known as Jim Crow, the prison population expanded rapidly.

Southern states filled their jails with African-Americans, often former slaves convicted of minor crimes. They then rented them out as labor for the owners of railroads, plantations and factories, or required them to work on chain gangs building roads and other public projects, or inside prison walls for private businesses.

The labor of prisoners became a significant source of revenue for Southern states. The system also took hold, but in a much smaller way, in the North.

Without violating the 13th Amendment, Republicans in post-Reconstruction Texas complained, “the courts of law are employed to re-enslave the colored race.” Plantations, they added, “are worked, as of old, by slaves, under the name of convicts.”

Conditions were barbarous and the supply of convicts seemingly endless. “One dies, get another,” became a popular refrain among those who profited from the labor of prisoners.

Credit…William Widmer for The New York Times

To this day, many convicts are required to work while incarcerated. As janitors, plumbers and the like they help make prisons function. They produce goods like furniture for government offices. This year, prisoners have been making hand sanitizer to help combat the pandemic and fighting California wildfires.

 

With the expansion of private prisons, more and more inmates work for private contractors, sometimes in factory settings within prison walls. In recent years, many companies have used or benefited from the labor of prisoners.

As late as the 1980s, the Department of Justice concluded that the 13th Amendment attaches “some of the characteristics of slavery” to prisoners, including exemption from minimum-wage laws. Indeed, courts have ruled that inmates working in prisons have no constitutional right to payment at all.

A few years ago, the documentary film “13th” linked the origin of today’s racially biased mass incarceration to the criminal exemption clause. But the members of Congress who voted on the 13th Amendment did not anticipate the later emergence of a new system of involuntary servitude in the South.

We hear a great deal in judicial circles about the “original intent” or “original meaning” of constitutional provisions. But the 13th Amendment shows that unanticipated consequences can be as significant as intended ones. The amendment, which destroyed the largest slave system the modern world has known, was deservedly an occasion for celebration. Especially given our heightened awareness of the inequities of our criminal justice system, it is high time the criminal exemption was eliminated, as the abolition amendment proposes.

Like any change in the Constitution, the abolition amendment would need the approval of two-thirds of Congress and three-quarters of the states, a daunting requirement. It is certain to encounter resistance from those who profit from prison labor, now a multibillion-dollar industry, as well as those who deem unpaid labor a just punishment.

But approval would recognize the basic human rights of those convicted of crime. Reinforcing the idea that all people who work should be paid for their labor, it would be a major step in bringing to fruition the “new birth of freedom” promised by the Civil War.


Eric Foner is an emeritus professor of history at Columbia University and the author, most recently, of The Second Founding: How the Civil War and Reconstruction Remade the Constitution.

Cultures of United States Imperialism (New Americanists): Amy Kaplan,  Donald E. Pease: 9780822314134: Amazon.com: BooksAcabo de enterarme que en julio de este terrible año murió la Dra. Amy Kaplan. En 1993, la Dra. Kaplan editó, junto a Donald Pease, Cultures of United States Imperialism, un libro paradigmático que nos sirvió de guía e inspiración a quienes en la década de 1990 buscabamos darle un nuevo aire a los estudios del imperialismo estadounidense.  Esta obra analizó, de forma magistral, la ausencia o invisiblidad del imperialismo en el análisis de la cultura estadounidense, y subrayó la importancia de estudiarle como una parte esencial de la historia de Estados Unidos.

Profesora en la Universidad de Pennsylvania, la Dr. Kaplan dejó trabajos de lectura obligada para quienes quieran entender la complicada relación de los estadounidenses con las prácticas, ideas e instituciones imperialistas  de Estados Unidos.

Su muerte es una perdida irreparable. !Qué descanse en paz!

Amy Kaplan | Department of English

La Smithsonian National Postal Museum’s Maynard Sundman Lecture Series invita a su próximo webinair titulado «Under Three Flags, the Postal History of the Spanish-Cuban/American War» por Yamil Kouri Jr. Ganador del 2020 Luff Award for Exceptional Contributions to Philately, el Sr. Kouri dialogará sobre su más reciente libro analizando el impacto de la guerra hispano-cubano-estadounidense sobre el servicio postal de los países involucrados en tal conflicto.

La conferencia será el día 9 de diciembre a las 4:00PM EST. Los interesados pueden registrarse aquí.

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La revista digital 80 grados acaba de publicar un corto ensayo de Rafael Rodríguez Cruz sobre el impacto que tuvo la mal llamada gripe española entre los habitantes autóctonos de Alaska. Debo reconocer que es un tema que desconocía, pero  lo que relata el autor no me ha sorprendido para nada. Rodríguez Cruz  describe cómo la pandemia de 1918 se cebó sobre la población amerindia de Alaska y la reacción genocida de la minoría blanca que habitaba ese territorio.  Para evitar que se contagiaran los habitantes blancos el gobierno local  le prohibió a los habitantes locales sus actvidades económicas tradicionales, especialmente, el trapping o caza de animales. Esto tuvo consecuencias desatrosas para estos pueblos amerindios.

Comparto con mis lectores este escrito.

El 13 de enero de 1919, el entonces gobernador del territorio de Alaska, Thomas Riggs, compareció ante el Congreso de Estados Unidos solicitando fondos federales para combatir la influenza o gripe. Alaska era un territorio recién incorporado en el que residían cerca de 20,000 ciudadanos blancos y aproximadamente 30,000 indígenas. La gripe llegó tardíamente al lugar, pero se regó como pólvora. Aunque los datos son aún inciertos, para fines de 1918 el conteo de muertes excedía de 2,000. Riggs venía ahora ante el Comité de Apropiaciones de la Cámara de Representantes con una lista de gastos incurridos por el gobierno territorial en la lucha en contra de la pandemia. Pocos días antes el Senado Federal había aprobado $100,000 para las arcas del gobierno territorial de Alaska. Riggs buscaba la aprobación final por la Cámara. Lo interesante de su reclamo es que, en enero de 1919, el gobierno de Alaska no tenía un problema presupuestario. De hecho, le sobraba dinero.

Thomas Riggs Jr. - Wikipedia

Thomas Riggs

¿Cuál era el motivo de la petición de Alaska y por qué acudía Riggs ante el gobierno federal, si al gobierno territorial le sobraba la plata? ¿No se suponía, acaso, que la Cruz Roja era la institución llamada a proveer socorro en eventualidades como esta? El testimonio de Riggs revela la verdadera naturaleza colonial y genocida de la anexión de Alaska. Sí, en Alaska murieron cerca de 2,000 personas entre 1917 y 1919 debido a la gripe, pero casi todas eran indígenas. Riggs testificó que esta disparidad se debía a que las comunidades originarias exhibían una mayor vulnerabilidad ante la enfermedad. «La influenza ataca más violentamente a los nativos que a las personas blancas; estos simplemente no tienen poder de resistencia», indicó él. Un detalle interesante de sus respuestas ante los miembros del comité fue que Riggs no conectó todas las muertes directamente con el «poco poder de resistencia» biológica de los indígenas. Muchas se debían a la hambruna y a la falta de ropa y cobijo para el duro invierno durante la pandemia.

Thomas Sisson, presidente del comité, le pidió a Riggs que explicara la anomalía de que las comunidades originarias del territorio de Alaska estuvieran muriéndose de hambre y congelación en medio de la pandemia. En todas las regiones de Estados Unidos, puntualizó él, los indígenas se sufragaban sus propios gastos y procuraban sus propios alimentos. Además, obtenían abrigos y pieles mediante la caza. Tal había sido hasta hace poco el caso de las comunidades originarias de Alaska, que desde tiempos inmemoriales se dedicaban al «trapping». El problema declaró Riggs es que, tan pronto aparecieron las primeras señales de la influenza española en el territorio, su administración puso a los indígenas en cuarentena, prohibiéndoles que se desplazaran por el territorio y practicaran el trapping. ¿Por qué? Pues para prevenir que se contagiaran los ciudadanos blancos. Al fin y al cabo, añadió él, los «indios» no tenían ni derechos legales ni tierra para vender. Es más, no pagaban impuestos. «Si se trata de socorrer a la población blanca, no me hace falta ni un centavo federal», prosiguió Riggs. El dinero era para alimentar a los «indios» en cuarentena y prevenir, por medios policíacos, que se salieran de sus villorrios, regando la influenza.

  • Mr. Sisson: ¿Por qué no están trapping los esquimales?
  • Mr. Riggs: La mayor parte están muertos, y los que no están muertos deben de ser controlados, para que no vayan a otras comunidades.

 

What Alaskans learned from 'the mother of all pandemics' in 1918 - Alaska  Public Media

¿Quiénes eran, entonces, los indígenas que quedaban en las comunidades en enero de 1919? Sobre todo, niños y niñas menores de edad, o sea, criaturas huérfanas. El cuadro que mostró Riggs de la situación en las comunidades indígenas era pavoroso. Sobre mil cadáveres de mujeres y hombres indígenas yacían sobre el hielo sin ser sepultados. No había médicos ni medicinas para socorrer a los vivos. Incluso la Cruz Roja se negaba a aventurarse a las regiones más remotas y frígidas del territorio. La poca ayuda que recibían los indígenas era en forma de alimentos y ropas que llevaban los empleados del Departamento de Educación de Alaska y algunos pobladores blancos compasivos. Cientos y cientos de huérfanos, a menudo concentrados en grupos de 300 o más, eran alimentados y suplidos de mantas y ropa. De hecho, Riggs había acudido al gobierno federal no para pedir ayuda para la gente blanca, sino para que le reembolsaran al gobierno territorial los costos de vigilar a los indios en cuarentena y mantener a los huérfanos en los villorrios. Al fin y al cabo, los indígenas de Alaska no tenían nada que vender ni nada que se les pudiera confiscar. «No es justo –expresó Riggs– que los 20,000 habitantes blancos de Alaska, que sí pagan impuestos, tengan que hacerse cargo de los pupilos del gobierno federal que fueron heredados de Rusia». Tan solo los costos de alimentar los perros de los trineos, finalizó él, ascienden a miles y miles de dólares de los taxpayers. Cada perro de trineo recibía $30 de alimentación diaria.

What the Arctic reveals about coronavirus | CRYOPOLITICSLos efectos de la influenza de 1918-1919 entre la población originaria de Alaska van más allá de la cifra de muertos. Nada se habló de prohibir el trapping por los blancos, quienes fueron precisamente los que llevaron la infección a las comunidades indígenas. Pero no todo era tragedia. Para el gobierno racista de Alaska, la pandemia, al generar cientos de huérfanos, creaba una oportunidad única para imponer la cultura blanca a los niños y niñas indígenas, ahora en custodia de los funcionarios del régimen territorial. Así lo expresó, sin filtros lingüísticos, el gobernador Riggs al leer documentos del Departamento de Educación de Alaska que hablaban del tema: «Oportunidad espléndida para el avance educacional de los esquimales». Cobrando una cifra de $10 al mes por cada huérfano, una plaga de misioneros cristianos inculcaba la visión de que los antiguos chamanes y religiosos eran discípulos del Diablo. Esto, a una población indígena que había vivido por siempre en armonía con la naturaleza. Yuuyaraq (la vía humana) era para estas comunidades la palabra que expresaba una vida conformada a la naturaleza. Se trataba de una cosmogonía de paz muy parecida, en detalle y hermosura, a la de los Dakota en Mni Sota Makoce (hoy Minnesota), antes de su expulsión del lugar por el gobierno territorial en 1863. A las madres Dakota encarceladas en las reservaciones les daban animales podridos para que alimentaran a sus criaturas. Las de Alaska estaban muertas. Es la vieja regla de la política indígena y expansionista del gobierno de Estados Unidos, de que las naciones más indefensas fueron (y siguen siendo) las más abusadas y avasalladas por el invasor blanco. Todavía hoy perduran en las comunidades originarias de Alaska las cicatrices dejadas por el cruel genocidio de 1918-1919 y el abuso de los misioneros.

Referencias:

  1. U.S. Congress. House Committee on Appropriations. Influenza in Alaska and Puerto Rico. Subcommittee of House Committee on Appropriations. Sixty-Fifth Congress, Third Session, Washington: Government Printing Office, 1919.
  2. Alaska Division of Public Health. 1918 Pandemic Influenza Mortality in Alaska. Alaska Government, 2018.
  3. Napoleon, Harry. Yuuyaraq: The way of the Human Being. Alaska Native Knowledge Network, 1991.

Westerman, Gwen y Bruce White. Mni Sota Makoce: The Land of the Dakota. Minnesota Historical Society, 2012.

Las elecciones presidenciales de 1876 fueron unas históricas caracterizadas por el fraude, la intimidación y la violencia. Los Republicanos nominaron como su candidato al gobernador de Ohio Rutherford B. Hayes, un político insípido, pero integro. Los Demócratas nominaron al gobernador de Nueva York Samuel J. Tilden. Ambos favorecían el gobierno propio para el Sur (es decir, no interferir ni intervenir en los asuntos políticos del Sur) y, además, la reconstrucción no era una de sus prioridades.

Esta elección ha sido una de las más cerradas en la historia de los Estados Unidos. Hayes obtuvo el 48% de los votos populares y 185 votos electorales, mientras que Tilden le superó en votos populares con el 50% de éstos, pero sólo alcanzó 184 votos electorales. Ninguno de los dos candidatos obtuvo el número de votos electorales necesarios para ser electo presidente, lo que provocó una seria crisis política. Para resolver esta crisis el Congreso nombró un comité compuesto por cinco senadores, cinco representantes y cinco jueces del Tribunal Supremo, ocho Republicanos y siete Demócratas. El comité votó en estricta línea partidista a favor de reconocer la elección de Hayes, lo que generó las protestas  de los Demócratas. Éstos controlaban la Cámara de Representantes y amenazaron con bloquear la juramentación de Hayes. Para superar esta crisis se llevaron a cabo negociaciones secretas que culminaron con un acuerdo en febrero de 1877: los Demócratas aceptaron la elección del Hayes a cambio de que éste nombrara a un sureño en su gabinete, no interfiriera en la política del Sur y se comprometiera a retirar las tropas federales que quedaban en el sur.

Poco tiempo después de su juramentación como Presidente de los Estados Unidos, Hayes ordenó la salida de las tropas federales de Florida y Carolina del Sur. La salida de los soldados conllevó la eventual derrota de los gobernadores Republicanos de ambos estados. Al adoptar una política de no interferencia en los asuntos del Sur, los Republicanos abandonaron a los afroamericanos. Aunque formaban parte de la constitución, las Enmiendas 14 y 15 quedaron sin efecto en el Sur porque fueron sistemáticamente ignoradas por los gobiernos sureños. Con ello murió la era de la Reconstrucción y se inició una era vergonzosa caracterizada por la supremacía de los blancos, la violencia racial, la violación sistemática de los derechos de los ciudadanos afroamericanos y la segregación de los negros.


Chief Justice Morrison R. Waite administering the oath of office to Rutherford B. Hayes, 1877.

Chief Justice Morrison R. Waite administering the oath of office to Rutherford B. Hayes, 1877.

The Presidential Election of 1876

In the summer of 1876 the United States celebrated a centenary of independence. Although it was a jubilee year, the American Republic was also deeply troubled. The desperate battles of the Civil War had ended more than a decade before; yet Abraham Lincoln’s call for ‘malice toward none’ remained an unfulfilled appeal, as Federal troops continued to occupy some of the former Confederate States. President Ulysses S. Grant’s second term of office was drawing to a close under a barrage of criticism directed at corruption in his government. The coming Presidential election would take place in November.

It promised to be an exciting fight, but no one foresaw that the struggle between Republican Rutherford B. Hayes and Democrat Samuel J. Tilden would result in an unparalleled scandal and bring America perilously close to another civil conflict. Indeed, the roots of the dispute were firmly woven into the Civil War and its tragic aftermath.

On April 9th, 1865 General Robert E. Lee surrendered the Army of Northern Virginia and the guns at Appomattox stopped firing. The Civil War drew to a close. In four years of grim fighting the troops of both sides had developed a respect for each other, a bond of harsh experiences mutually endured. Now Yankees shared their rations with Confederates and traded wartime stories.

The day after the surrender, Abraham Lincoln returned to Washington after a visit to Richmond. A wildly cheering crowd called for a speech, but the President demurred. Instead, he asked the military band to strike up ‘Dixie’. For a brief moment there seemed to be hope of genuine reconciliation. It was unquestionably Lincoln’s fervent hope. Then, only days later, John Wilkes Booth fired a fatal bullet into the President’s head at Ford’s Theatre in Washington.

Election Cartoon, 1876 Photograph by Granger

With Lincoln’s death, the ‘Radicals’ in the Republican Party gained the upper hand. For men like Thaddeus Stevens of Pennsylvania and Charles Sumner of Massachusetts, the South fully deserved the revenge they had planned. The bitter years of ‘Reconstruction’ followed. Government tax-collectors enjoyed a bonanza below the Mason-Dixon Line. General Lee’s magnificent home at Arlington was seized for taxes. Properties worth thousands of dollars were sold for a few hundred and Federal Treasury agents laid claim to supposedly abandoned land. Even General William Tecumseh Sherman, whose army made the famous march from Atlanta to the sea, burning and destroying everything in its path, spoke in compassionate terms to a veterans’ gathering shortly after the war:

It was in this atmosphere that white Southerners fought to regain control of South Carolina, Texas, Virginia, Florida and other states of the former Confederacy; the newly emancipated slaves fought for a place in a society previously denied them; and political scavengers fought to hang on to the spoils of war. Gradually, however, the South returned to the control of its native white population. In doing so, it became more solidly attached to the Democratic Party than ever before.

Due to the presence of Federal troops and officials in positions of power, Ulysses S. Grant was able to carry eight southern states for the Republican Party in the Presidential election of 1868. Grant won a second term in 1872, but this time only six southern states were in the Republican camp. The grip of Radical Republican power was fading. Perhaps more significant, the immediate post-war zeal in the North for African-American welfare had diminished.

 

Republican election poster

Republican election poster, 1876.

 

As the election of 1876 approached, Grant’s Republican administration reeled under a heavy attack by the press when a great whisky scandal broke. Western distillers had been flagrantly evading Federal taxes, and Grant’s own private secretary, General Babcock, was implicated. The President’s enemies gleefully pointed to corruption in the White House. Instead of dissociating himself from Babcock, Grant leaped to his defence.

Indeed, Grant displayed an almost incredible loyalty to dubious colleagues during his Presidency. His support of Babcock largely contributed to an acquittal. But this was just part of the rapidly mounting troubles faced by the Republican Party.

In March 1876, just eight months before the election, Secretary of War William Belknap was charged with malfeasance in office by the House of Representatives. Rather than remove Belknap from his post, Grant merely accepted the cabinet member’s resignation. One month later it was James G. Blaine’s turn to embarrass the Administration. As Republican leader in the House of Representatives, Blaine was in a most influential position. When the press charged that he had taken favours from the Union Pacific Railroad, the tag of ‘Grantism’ received new life as a synonym for political avarice.

The scandals could not have come at a more inopportune time, for the Republicans desperately needed a politically untarnished standard-bearer in the coming election and Blaine was a strong candidate. Despite the publicity, Blaine’s name was prominent when the Republicans met at Cincinnati, Ohio, on June 14th to nominate a contender for the Presidency. Recognising that public attention had to be focused on something other than the Administration’s record, Blaine attacked the South and stirred up fears of a new war. In doing so, he alienated those members of his party who sought a genuine rapprochement with the old Confederacy. On the seventh ballot, he lost the nomination to a ‘dark horse’ candidate, Rutherford B. Hayes of Ohio. Hayes was a compromise between the extreme wings of the Party. Above all, his personal record and political integrity could not be seriously challenged.

The 53-year-old Hayes had a good, if not spectacular, background. Born in Delaware, Ohio, he had been raised by a widowed mother who, fortunately, enjoyed financial security. He received a degree from the Harvard Law School in 1845 and subsequently accepted a number of fugitive slave cases. During the Civil War, Hayes rose to the rank of brevet major-general of volunteers, participated in many actions and was severely wounded. While the war still raged he was elected to Congress. He was later elected Governor of Ohio on three separate occasions and put through a number of reforms.

In accepting the nomination, Hayes vowed to end the spoils system and called for an end to ‘the distinction between North and South in our common country’. This conciliatory statement was in sharp contrast to Resolution Number 16 of the Party Platform which went so far as to question the loyalty of the Democratic majority in the House of Representatives. This allegation reflected the presence of Congressmen who had fought for the Confederacy.

The Democrats had no problem in devising their campaign strategy. The entire nation was aware of the Administration’s shortcomings. Corruption was the issue and the Democratic Party promised reform. On June 27th they held their convention in St Louis, Missouri. In an auditorium jammed with 5,000 people, Governor Samuel J. Tilden of New York scored a landslide victory on the second ballot.

 

Samuel J. Tilden is announced as the Democratic presidential nominee

Samuel J. Tilden is announced as the Democratic presidential nominee.

 

Tilden was a unique figure, and certainly one of the most interesting to cross the American political scene. This frail, cold, articulate bachelor commanded a crusading zeal from his supporters. As a boy, Tilden was withdrawn and showed little inclination to mix with young people. Politics, however, fascinated him and his father fostered that interest. At the age of 15 he used his own money to buy Adam Smith’s Wealth of Nations. By 1841 he was a qualified lawyer with a continuing and consuming interest in politics. His brilliant grasp of political matters brought him to the attention of Democratic leaders who sought his counsel. For some time Tilden studiously avoided candidacy for high public office, but his own abilities soon brought him national recognition.

A particularly significant event was Tilden’s exposure and prosecution of New York’s notorious racketeer, ‘Boss’ William M. Tweed. His popularity soared and he was elected Governor of New York. Then he broke up the Canal Ring, a group of crooks and unscrupulous politicians. Tilden’s name became associated with integrity in politics. This was just what the Democratic Party wanted as a contrast to the Republican Administration.

The battle lines were clearly defined. Left to themselves, it is possible that Hayes and Tilden might have kept the election campaign free from distortion of facts and bitter personal invective, but it was not to be. Tilden was subjected to a number of damaging of charges. There seemed to be no limit to the accusations: that he was a liar, swindler, perjurer, counterfeiter and even an absurd claim that he had been in league with the infamous Tweed. In line with their basic campaign strategy, the Republicans alleged that Tilden had supported the Confederacy, the right of secession and the continuation of slavery. This all stemmed from his opposition to Lincoln in 1860, but that was because he was a Democrat and feared a Republican victory would bring disaster to the United States. This feeling had no bearing on his fundamental loyalty to the Union, and once the war began he had urged the quick suppression of the Confederacy.

As election day approached, excitement grew with each rally and parade. It was, after all, the centenary of American independence. Even politically apathetic citizens came out for Hayes or Tilden with great enthusiasm. But on polling day, November 7th, calm prevailed as people made their way to voting centres. It was a stillness soon to be shattered. Hayes’ hopes began to sink as swing states such as Connecticut, Indiana and New Jersey went to Tilden. When New York finally fell into Tilden’s camp, Hayes admitted defeat to those around him and went to bed.

Tilden was not only leading in the popular vote: he had 184 of the far more important electoral votes to Hayes’ 166. The 19 votes of South Carolina, Florida, and Louisiana were had not yet been declared, but they were in the heartland of the Democratic South. At the Republican National Headquarters, exhausted and dispirited party workers began to go home. On the morning of November 8th, the press of both parties was crowded with news of Tilden’s victory. Even the militantly Republican New York Tribune conceded the election.

The New York Times, however, would do no more than admit a Democratic lead. Two days after the election, John C. Reid, the newspaper’s influential editor, sat in the editorial room with two assistants. It was after 3am when a message arrived from the State Democratic Committee: ‘Please give your estimate of the electoral votes secured by Tilden. Answer at once.’ Reid was astounded. If they urgently needed such information, then the Democrats were not certain of victory. In a matter of minutes he conceived a scheme to wrest the election away from Tilden and put Rutherford B. Hayes into the White House. Tilden had 18 more electoral votes than Hayes, but if the 19 from South Carolina, Louisiana and Florida were secured by the Republicans, Hayes would win by one vote, 185 to 184.

Tilden (left) and Hayes

Samuel J. Tilden (left) and Rutherford B. Hayes (right).

Reid, accompanied by a Republican official, hurried into the night and awakened Zachariah Chandler, National Republican Chairman. Chandler agreed to Reid’s proposal: telegrams must be sent immediately to Republican officials in the three states, with the following message: ‘Hayes is elected if we have carried South Carolina, Florida and Louisiana. Can you hold your state? Answer immediately.’ The meaning was clear: those states were to be held at any cost. At the same time, Republican headquarters proclaimed Hayes’ election.

The key to the plot’s success lay in the state canvassing boards. They had the power to certify the votes and cast out those that, in the board’s opinion, were questionable. The need for absolute honesty by the boards in exercising their power was self evident, but the personnel of some made comedy of that requirement. Of course, all of the boards were Republican and backed by Federal troops.

Initially, Hayes dissociated himself from the plan, saying: ‘I think we are defeated … I am of the opinion that the Democrats have carried the country and elected Tilden.’ A few weeks later, however, he changed his mind: ‘I have no doubt that we are justly and legally entitled to the Presidency.’

From the beginning there was an outside chance that Hayes could have carried South Carolina and Louisiana on the strength of votes from African-Americans and ‘carpetbaggers’ (a pejorative term for Northerners who moved South during the Reconstruction). Florida’s heavily Democratic white majority, however, made that state a dim prospect for Republican hopes. But they had to have Florida or Tilden would win by 188 to 181. During the actual election campaign, all three states witnessed a wide variety of attempts by both sides to cow voters and fraud was rampant. In one shameful tactic, the Democrats tried to distribute ballots with the Republican emblem prominently displayed over the names of Democratic candidates. It was worth the chance in the hope of picking up votes from illiterate voters. On the Republican side, one inspired person devised ‘little jokers’. These were tiny Republican tickets inside a regular ballot. A partisan clerk could slip them into the ballot box with little chance of being detected.

In Louisiana, Tilden held a comfortable majority over Hayes. And in New Orleans, the Democratic elector with the smallest plurality had more than 6,000 votes over his Republican opponent. The canvassing board solved the problem in that state by simply throwing out 13,000 Tilden votes against only 2,000 for Hayes. Then the electors for Hayes were certified.

The prelude to the election in South Carolina was a bloody affair. The Governor was Daniel H. Chamberlain of Massachusetts, a strict dogmatist on the race question and thoroughly loathed by white South Carolinians. In addition to the Presidential election, there was a gubernatorial race. The Democrats were running a war hero, former Confederate General Wade Hampton. ‘Rifle clubs’ were organised over the entire state by Hampton’s supporters and there were numerous clashes with African-American groups. As far back as July 8th, there had been a sharp fight in Aiken County at which African-Americans suffered a severe defeat. Chamberlain appealed to President Grant for help. Grant described the rifle clubs as ‘insurgents’ and sent all readily available troops to South Carolina. The resultant fury at this action was compounded when the Republican canvassing board ensured the certification of Hayes’ electors.

The Election of 1876 & The End of Reconstruction

Florida was the most critical problem. As the polling booths closed, each side claimed victory. Once again, the canvassing board held the decision in its hands. The three-man board was dominated by two Republicans, Florida’s Secretary of State and its Comptroller. The third man was the Democratic Attorney General. The board had the right to exclude ‘irregular, false or fraudulent’ votes. In a complete travesty of integrity, the board voted for Hayes by virtue of its Republican majority. Thus, Florida’s key electoral votes went to Hayes. The Republican Governor certified them with the official blessing of the state. The outraged Democrats held a meeting and had the Attorney General certify the Tilden electors. With this action, a new and dangerous complication entered the scene. Democrats, claiming dishonesty by the canvassing boards, were certifying their own electors by whatever legal or quasi-legal means they could. To further complicate matters, Florida Democrats elected G. F. Drew as Governor and he appointed a new board of canvassers who promptly judged Tilden’s electors to be victorious. In South Carolina, where Wade Hampton had been elected Governor, there were unqualified demands to disenfranchise the Hayes electors.

As a precaution, General Grant ordered Federal troops into all three state capitals, directing General Sherman ‘to see that the proper and legal boards of canvassers are unmolested in the performance of their duties’. That meant Hayes would win. At this point, Samuel Tilden’s followers almost begged him to denounce the plot publicly, but he would no nothing to prejudice the legal process. This is somewhat difficult to understand in view of his previous anti-fraud successes.

The Senate and House of Representatives convened for the second session of the 44th Congress on December 4th, 1876. It was just two days before the date set for Presidential electors chosen in each state to meet and declare their choice for President and Vice-President of the United States. It was the responsibility of each state Governor and Secretary of State to affix the official state seal to the voting certificates and send them to the President of the Senate in Washington D.C. who would then count them before a joint session of Congress.

Since the Senate was controlled by Republicans, the Democratic House demanded the right to decide which votes were valid. The Senate, understandably, refused. Here was an incredible situation; each day bringing the United States closer to March 4th, the date when Grant’s term expired. Who would succeed him and how would it be done? Rumblings of a new civil war rolled ominously across America. There were drills and parades and wartime units began to reform. Even cool heads discussed the possibility of the National Guard, under the command of Democratic Governors in most states, marching on Washington to install Tilden by force, if necessary. In that case, the Regular Army under Grant would oppose the Guard as Hayes had been ‘legally’ elected.

Amazon.com: Presidential Campaign 1876 Ncontemporary American Newspaper  Cartoon Attacking William Eaton Chandler Who Directed Republican Tactics In  The Rutherford B Hayes And Samuel J Tilden Election In Which Twe: Posters &  PrintsIt was an unthinkable prospect. Fortunately, there were men of influence on both sides who saw that a peaceful solution was absolutely mandatory. On December 14th, the House appointed a committee to approach the Senate in the hope that a tribunal could be created; one ‘whose authority none can question and whose decision all will accept as final’. After much debate, an Electoral Commission was approved. Congress proceeded to set up a group of 15 men; five from the Senate, five from the House and five from the Supreme Court. Presumably, the Court Justices would be non-partisan. Both Hayes and Tilden declared the Commission unconstitutional, but they reluctantly agreed to accept its verdict.

It was clear to everyone what would happen without the Commission. Republican Senator Thomas Ferry of Michigan, presiding officer of the Senate, would open the certificates before a joint session and declare Hayes the winner by 185 to 184 electoral votes. The House would then immediately adjourn to its own chambers where Speaker Samuel Randall would declare no electoral majority and throw the election into a vote by each state delegation in the House. That would assure Tilden’s victory, and on March 4th, 1877 both Hayes and Tilden would be in Washington to be inaugurated as President of the United States. Senator Roscoe Conkling of New York described this route as a ‘Hell-gate paved and honeycombed with dynamite’. It was no understatement.

The Commission held its first session just four weeks before the inauguration. Democratic members of the Commission pressed for a searching examination of the honesty of the canvassing boards. The Republican members claimed that the legal state authorities had filed legitimate certificates and Congress had no power to interfere.

The Commission finally voted along party lines with the decision going to Hayes, 8 to 7. On Friday, March 2nd at 4am, the Senate awarded the last certificate to Hayes. It was just two days before the inauguration. The fury of the South was matched by its Democratic allies in the North. All eyes turned to Samuel J. Tilden. If he claimed that the will of the American people had been frustrated by partisan duplicity and fraud, then America faced civil war. Instead, Tilden said: ‘It is what I expected.’

Electoral map of 1876: Republican wins in red, Democrat in blue, non-states in grey.

Electoral map of 1876: Republican wins in red, Democrat in blue, non-states in grey.

 

Open conflict might still have been a possibility except for a meeting that has since been the subject of much speculation. One week before the inauguration, Southern Democrats and Republicans met at the Wormley Hotel in Washington in an effort to find some compromise before it was too late. There is ample evidence to suggest that a quid pro quo was reached; the South to agree to Hayes’ election if the North would agree to abandon all efforts to maintain carpetbag regimes in the South. That meant withdrawal of Federal troops. In return, the South presumably agreed not to take reprisals against African-Americans or carpetbag officials.

For that matter, the South and its Democratic friends in the North already held a powerful sword over the head of the United States Army. They attached a clause to the Army Appropriations Bill that outlawed the use of Federal troops to sustain state governments in the South without Congressional approval. When the Senate refused the clause, the House simply adjourned and left the Army without funds to pay soldiers. Morale collapsed and the end of Reconstruction was at hand.

After the decision, Tilden commented: ‘I can retire to private life with the consciousness that I shall receive from posterity the credit for having been elected to the highest position in the gift of the people, without any of the cares.’ That summer he sailed for Europe for a year’s vacation. Rutherford B. Hayes took the oath of office in private, kissing the open Bible at Psalm 118:13 ‘… the Lord helped me’.

There was no inaugural parade or ball. There was little to celebrate.

El fraude y la manipulación electoral son problemas que han acompañado a los estadounidenses a lo largo de su historia. Desde la compra de votos hasta el amendrentamiento y la violencia,  diversos grupos y partidos políticos han usado diferentes mecanismos para manipular la elecciones a nivel local y nacional.  Comparto esta nota escrita por el Dr. Jon Grinspan, curador en el  National Museum of American History, analizando este problema desde la actual coyuntura electoral estadounidense.


In the old days, nobody needed help from a foreign country.

The New York Times      October  24, 2020

Around supper time on Election Day, 1880, the poll workers in Bolivar County, Miss., were getting hungry. Someone ran out for sardines and crackers. The officials noshed and counted votes until the “violent laxative” that had been added to the Republicans’ sardines started to take effect. Then they ran for the outhouses while the remaining Democrats counted a suspiciously large majority.

As a historian of American democracy, I used to collect anecdotes like this from the mid-to-late 1800s. They dramatized, with outlandish gall, just how different America’s past was from the square politics I grew up with in the late 20th century. But on the eve of an election the president of the United States has declared might be stolen from him, a fear he promises to counter with an “army” of partisan poll watchers, dirty tricks don’t feel so distant. As our politics have darkened, I’ve shifted away from studying spiked sardines, wondering instead how Americans ever stopped stealing elections.

 

Such thefts are not cute. They robbed thousands of people of their rights, helped kill Reconstruction, and forestalled political reform. We still suffer from these crimes, over a century later. But in a striving nation dominated by what Charles Dickens called “the love of smart dealings,” crooked politicians often chuckled about their cunning. “Instead of wrath” at stolen elections, the humorist James Russell Lowell complained upon returning from abroad, “I found banter.” When the journalist Lincoln Steffens mentioned a St. Louis trick to a party boss in Philadelphia, the two began excitedly talking shop, “as one artist to another.” Although most elections were (relatively) clean, “majority manufacturers” in teeming Northern cities, racially tense Southern districts and new Western settlements laid out two paths for stealing elections — steal the cast or steal the count.

Understanding how these swindles worked can help shed light on what we should and shouldn’t worry about in 2020.

Stealing elections often started with the U.S. Postal Service — central to this election as well. In a nation that was over 80 percent rural, post offices were a choke point for political news. But they were run by deeply partisan postmasters, appointed by the very congressmen they’d help elect, and they frequently “lost” the opposition’s newspapers or correspondences. And because parties privately printed their own ballots in those days, post offices and newspaper publishers could buy up all the paper in town, making it difficult for rivals to get enough tickets. Even the telegraph wires couldn’t be trusted: In the contested presidential election of 1876, Western Union operators sent Democratic politicians’ private messages straight to Republican headquarters.

The tricks grew more confrontational on Election Day itself. Most states lacked voter registration systems, so partisans hung around the polls, challenging illegal voters — on account of age, race or residency — and intimidating legal ones they believed would vote for the rival ticket. Challenges could be oddly intimate, like the elderly Democrat in Civil War-torn Missouri who was threatened by a young man who “I have known ever since he was a child.” They could also lead to atrocious brutality. In the South at the end of Reconstruction, white Democratic rifle clubs “policed” the polls. They invented the term “bulldoze” in 1876 to describe the use of a “dose” of the bullwhip to terrorize African-American voters.

No Registry Law and Tammany | ClipArt ETC

Unlike today, there actually was widespread fraud in casting ballots, what Rudyard Kipling called the uniquely American “art of buying up votes retail.” A glass of lager, $5 or a pork chop sandwich might win over a decisive minority, up to 10 percent in some states. A Norwegian immigrant in Minneapolis was struck by how open this illegal behavior was, often “considered clever and was not concealed.” But an odd code dominated this illicit activity. Jane Addams described the consequences for an unscrupulous man who sold his vote to both parties. He was punished with a Chicago-style tar-and-feathering, his head held under a blasting fire hydrant on a cold November day.

Wholesale fraud trumped buying votes retail. In big cities and new settlements where many voters were strangers, parties practiced what became known as “colonizing”: filling a district with temporary voters. Mid-Atlantic cities saw an election season shell game, with Philadelphians sent to vote in Manhattan and New Yorkers swinging Baltimore elections. In the South, elections were sometimes stolen in the opposite manner. White Democrats conspired to win north Florida in 1876 by sending a large crew of Republican African-American railroad workers to work in Alabama. Their train mysteriously broke down there, stranding them on Election Day.

Ballot fraud was even easier than moving men around, at a time when voters cast a galaxy of paper tickets. There were “tissue ballots,” so thin that a voter could cast ten folded up to look like a single vote, or “tapeworm ballots,” long and skinny to prevent dissenters from “scratching” in names of candidates not approved by the party. When parties began to color-code ballots, some used the opposition’s chosen color to fool illiterates. Among election thieves, “every body thought it was a pretty sharp trick.”

“Stealing the cast” on Election Day was a lot of work, much of it illegal and confrontational. “Stealing the count” was easier. It required quietly turning power into more power, using local officials to swing state elections with national consequences. The notorious Democratic journalist Marcus (Brick) Pomeroy later bragged about throwing opposition votes into the fire when he worked one election in Wisconsin. Missing ballots sometimes showed up, charred and deserted, on Mississippi roads.
The Republican Convention in Chicago in June 1880, at which James A. Garfield became the nominee. This era of outlandish dirty tricks no longer seems so distant.

Credit…C.D. Mosher, via Getty Images

In the 1876 election, while the Democrats decisively won the popular vote, Republican-controlled returning boards in disputed states used fraud, bribery and the U.S. Army to steal the count. In Louisiana, they disqualified whole parishes, throwing out one in 10 votes statewide, 85 percent of them for Democrats. To figure out who would win an election, wrote a furious Democrat watching Republicans inaugurate President “Ruther-fraud” B. Hayes, you needn’t predict the future: “You need only to know what kind of scoundrels constitute the returning boards.”

This ugly history tells us some useful things about the present. First, stealing the vote itself takes an incredible amount of labor. Coordinating machines capable of casting large numbers of fraudulent ballots required massive efforts, amounting to organized criminal conspiracies. Study after study finds that there is no significant voting fraud today, a claim borne out by history: Such a crime takes a lot of work and leaves a lot of evidence.

History also shows that there is a choice to be made. Around 1890 the nation came to a fork in the road. Southern states systematized “bulldozing,” writing new constitutions that made it nearly impossible for African-Americans to vote. With Jim Crow laws and minuscule turnouts, those states ceased to be functioning democracies.

But in the rest of the nation, many were tired of the smirking frauds. The radical Nebraska activist Luna Kellie wrote that until elections were cleaned up, there was “very little use of thinking of any other reform.” James Russell Lowell warned that democracy was in more danger than it had been during the Civil War, because while Confederates seceded with half the nation, crooked politicians were “filching from us the whole of our country.”

Acts of Enforcement: The New York City Election of 1870Electoral reform became a hot topic, attracting canny reformers and rapt attention. Men who had once colonized districts wrote new elections laws. Steffens, a muckraking journalist whom the Philadelphia boss described as “a born crook that’s gone straight,” published wildly popular studies of different political machines’ dirtiest tricks. Many of our election rules date from that moment, around 1900, when Americans redirected their “love of smart dealings” toward tightening up electoral systems, rather than finding ways around them.

In 2020, America may be at another fork. “Bad men at the ballot box,” as one Texas preacher called them in 1890, may reappear to intimidate voters. Accusations of fraud might motivate spiraling political thefts. Or perhaps all of this anxiety will focus our wandering attention back to neglected electoral practices, as it did after 1890. How elections work — once a powerfully unsexy topic — may well attract the vital interest of activists, donors and students once again.

There’s no telling how the cast and count will go in 2020, but we can hope that the American people know a rotten sardine when they smell one.