In "What Caused the Civil War", a book part autobiography, part history, part sociology, University of Richmond professor Edward Ayers gives us a personal account of his upbringing in Kingsport, Tennessee in the 1960's. At the time of publication in 2005, Ayers was a professor at the University of Virginia.
"In the second grade I had a beautiful young teacher who led us in singing every morning. One song had acting that went along with it: "Stoop down, bend down, pick a bale of cotton." No cotton grew in East Tennessee, and I had never cotton plants, but the song and this teacher made it sound like fun. This teacher liked me, for we shared a high-energy level and a certain dramatic inclination. She chose me to appear with the sixth graders' glee club, putting on a big show for parents. For this show, she covered my face in burnt cork, gave me a tambourine, and made me a tall hat of white cardboard. My job,...was to beat our tambourine along with the songs of the South performed by the bigger kids. At one point, under the hot lights and between songs, I took off my hat for a moment and was surprised - but pleased, I discovered - by a wave of good-natured laughter from the audience. The burnt cork stopped in a straight line across the middle of my forehead, where the hat had covered.
That would have been about 1960. So far as I know, no one at Andrew Johnson Elementary, segregated as it was, had any problems with a minstrel show. The civil rights movement must have seemed pretty far away from the white people of Kingsport at that point. The little city was about 5 percent black, the population carefully segregated. I saw black kids only rarely.
Though we lived in a Republican district in Appalachia and in a quite modern young city, the culture of white supremacy thoroughly saturated us. People I knew did not hesitate to identify bright colors as "nigger colors" and big sedans as "nigger cars." It was not uncommon to see signs that caricatured black men enjoying watermelon. Downtown, signs identified the colored entrances to the Strand and the State theaters around to the side, leading to the balcony. When we white boys fought, we charged that two on one was nigger fun; when we had to decided the last one chosen for ball, eenie meenie minie mo ended with a nigger's toe. When we want to frighten our younger siblings, we told them a big nigger was coming to get them. We thought nothing of it.
Once I read these passages while browsing the history section in Barnes and Noble, I knew that I had to buy it. Ayers' openness is comforting, to say the least, because most historians that I have encountered in academia don't often relate to the reader on such a human and emotional level. In fact, the premise of Ayers' book appears to be less about rehashing arguments over what may have caused the Civil War and whether Reconstruction was a failure, though he certainly outlines various schools of thought. This book really concerns how any historical narrative must capture the human element. It's what Ayers calls "deep contingency".
"(D)eep contingency reverberates throughout the recesses of the social order. To understand deep contingency we must try to comprehend a society as a whole, its soft structures of ideology, culture, and faith as well as its hard structures of economies and politics."
As a deep contingency, Ayers could have delved into the role of racism in American society as way to explain both the Civil War and most certainly the return of slavery in form, sharecropping. Instead, he chose to look at how "Reconstruction may be more useful as a guide to what to expect elsewhere in the world than any other reconstruction in which the United States has engaged." In other words, Reconstruction in the South has its own deep contingencies given the U.S. intervention in the Philippines and the Dominican Republic at the turn of the century, Europe in World War I and II, Japan in World War I, etc. More interestingly, Ayers emphasizes not so much the contingencies themselves, but the lessons we should take from them. In the case of reconstructions, which obviously could include U.S. involvement in Iraq, Ayers offers the following lessons.
- Lesson One: Because they tend to follow wars, reconstructions often becomes a heavy burden to carry. To borrow a phrase from Eckhart Tolle, reconstructions create collective pain bodies.
- Lesson Two: Reconstructions have the effect of creating "cohesion, identity, and solidarity" among the reconstructed people
- Lesson Three: Reconstructions "foster steadfast and violent defenders of the old order"
- Lesson Four: Reconstructions rely on the most powerful of the old order for economic recovery and renewal.
- Lesson Six: "Sixth, in order to be reconstructed, people need to be perceived as needing to be reconstructed. Accordingly, they are often attributed with pathologies, ingrained limitations, and flawed heritages."
- Lesson Seven: "Reconstructions..cannot last long before they seem another form of oppression"
- Lesson Eight: Reconstructions can unleash a Pandora's box, in which different actors and their irreconcilable goals threaten to upend progress.
- Lesson Nine: The end goal of any reconstruction usually involves "freedom," but the meaning of freedom can vary by groups and over time.
- Lesson Ten: Reconstruction can ultimately be its own enemy, especially if the terms of peace and freedom are absolute.
Now, Ayers does answer the question he poses in the title. Ayers calls this inclusive approach, "open narrative".
"What caused the Civil War?" misleads us because it seems such a straightforward question....
Slavery was a profound economic, political, religious, and moral problem, the most profound the nation has ever faced. But that problem did not lead to war in a rational, predictable way. The war came through misunderstanding, confusion, miscalculation. Both sides underestimated the location of fundamental loyalty in the other. Both received incorrect images of the other in the partisan press. Political belief distorted each side's view of the other's economy and class relations. Both sides believed the other was bluffing, both believed that the other's internal differences and conflict would lead it to buckle, and both believed that had latent but powerful allies in the other region would prevent war. By the time people made up their minds to fight, slavery itself had become obscured. Southern white men did not fight for slavery; they fought for a new nation built on slavery. White Northerners did not fight to end slavery; they fought to defend the integrity of their nation. Yet slavery, as Abraham Lincoln later put it, "somehow" drove everything.