by Karl Fleming
Son of the Rough South is a
journey back into a meaner time and a gentler time, a time of grace,
and a time hardness, a time of brutality, and a time of courage, and
above all, a time of dignity and nobility, the best stuff of
humankind. It is the true story of Karl Fleming, a hardworking
reporter for Newsweek magazine, who in his role as southern district
correspondent covered the civil rights movement from 1961 to 1968
and had a front row seat for such tumultuous events as the
desegregation of Ole Miss University by James Meredith, the bombing
of the 16th Street Baptist Church, which galvanized Martin Luther
King and his followers, the shooting of Medger Evers, the murders of
the three young civil rights workers Schwerner, Goodman and Chaney,
and the assassination of Bobby Kennedy.
These were heady days for liberalism, when the very word resonated
with connotations of courage, compassion and determination. When
reaching out to your fellow citizens to support them in their
struggle against injustice was the only morality worth discussing,
and when boorishness, narrow-mindedness and insensitivity were seen
as just that, and not qualities that would get you a good slot on AM
radio. The willingness of liberals, both black and white, to run the
gauntlet of laughing, tobacco-chewing rednecks, many of whom spent
their evenings in white robes and peeked hoods, and who were only
too willing to murder and torture anyone
who offended them, reminds us of what it takes to stand up to a
philosophy that says that the only way to enjoy your freedom is to
deprive others of theirs. Ah, how times have changed. Or have they?
Today, many Americans are as frightened of incipient terrorism as
Southern whites were of blacks winning their freedom. As a result,
the Patriot Act has arrived to curtail our freedoms and loud mouth
Conservatives have popped up to question our patriotism.. A similar
thing happened in the South in 1959. As Fleming points out, racism
in the South had a lot to do with Southern whites' feelings of
inadequacy and shame at their own ignorance and poverty. If blacks
were allowed to prosper and advance, than who would be the lowest
man on the totem pole? It was unacceptable, and fear of such a
possibility drove them to trample on the rights of others while
bullying and browbeating anyone who disagreed with them, all the
while justifying their actions as a natural, moral and right.
Fleming lost his devotion to religion during this time as he watched
right-wing churches in the South turn a blind eye to the horrors and
misery inflicted on blacks, while they continued preaching the glory
of "Jay-sus Christ!" and asking for contributions. His Christian
feelings were revived when he watched black preachers raising the
spirits of their congregations and inspiring non-violent resistance.
He learned a great deal from his experiences.
Not the least of which was that racism cuts both ways. In all the
time he was in the eye of the storm in Dixie, Fleming was never
badly hurt. As he points out, this probably had much to do with the
fact that he himself was a good ol' boy from North Carolina who
could walk the walk. But when he was covering the Watts riot in Los
Angeles in 1966, an old acquaintance, Stokely Carmichael, turned on
him, raising the ire of the crowd against him by saying, "We need to
stop these honky reporters from coming down here." Fleming was
beaten unconscious and left for dead.
Through all this, and upon reflection, Fleming sees his abiding
sympathy for the civil rights movement as stemming from a profound
distaste for bullying of which he had been the victim as a child,
particularly during his years in the orphanage where his mother left
him when she could no longer afford to raise him. His relation of
his time spent in the orphanage is both moving and whimsical and a
wonderful glimpse back into the mindset of late 1940's America.
Taken as a whole, the book is worth every moment spent with it. It
unfolds and grows as America unfolds and grows in the post-war years
from 1945 to 1970. It tells us a lot about ourselves, both then and
now.
For one thing, it reminds us of how far authority will go to
maintain order and impose their will, and the courage and fortitude
it takes to overcome such oppression. In fact, reading this
narrative, and reacquainting myself with these events, I was struck
by how far the pendulum has swung the other way now. It would have
been inconceivable to the courageous people of the civil rights
movement, who were willing to risk their lives to insure that
ordinary citizens were granted their constitutional liberties, that
a single horrific event - no matter how shocking - should be
accepted by most Americans as a sound rationalization for rolling
back civil liberties and granting the government the power to spy
on, search through and keep tabs on ordinary people, as well as
imprison them without trial, and hold them without counsel. But they
only do that to suspected terrorists! you cry. Maybe, but who gets
to decide who is a terrorist?
White southerners routinely accused civil rights leaders of being
Communists, before beating, shooting and lynching them.
Let us hope that our cowardice has not made it so that some future
generation has to risk their lives in order to regain the freedoms
we have so cavalierly tossed away.
This book is worth every minute you spend with it.
