WILLIAM
JEFFERSON CLINTON,
"RACISM IN THE
UNITED
STATES" (16 OCTOBER
1995)
Jill M. Weber
The Pennsylvania State
University
The 1995
O.J. Simpson trial was heralded as the trial of the century, a moniker that
reflected the sensationalism and hype surrounding the legal drama: a black football
star accused of killing his ex-wife and her companion, two high profile legal
teams, and an attentive viewing audience. Indeed, the Simpson trial elicited
all of the suspense of a Hollywood murder
mystery. When a nearly all black jury acquitted Simpson, the drama intensified
as white and black Americans "divided sharply along racial lines"
responded to the verdict.[1] According to a
survey completed by the Washington Post,
"eight out of 10 blacks interviewed said they agreed with the decision,
including 66 percent who expressed strong approval of the verdicts. But 55
percent of all whites interviewed said they disapproved of the jury's decision,
including 40 percent who said they strongly disapproved."[2] The disagreement of whites and blacks over the Simpson
verdict aggravated racial tensions and prompted the nation, including President
Bill Clinton, to acknowledge the existence of America's long-standing racial
divide.
On October 16, 1995, President Clinton discussed America's
racial problems in his first extended remarks on race in the aftermath of the
Simpson trial. In his speech, Clinton
acknowledged that black and white Americans saw the world differently and tried
to educate each race about the causes of these differences. Promoting a message
of compassion and conciliation, Clinton
encouraged all Americans to "clean our house of racism" and called
for a national dialogue on race that, he argued, would set America on a path to racial harmony
(35).[3]
Although critics, including the
controversial black leader Minister Louis Farrakhan, criticized Clinton for not offering any solutions to the problems of
racism and discrimination in America,
Clinton
maintained that dialogue was the first step in understanding racial differences.
Two years later, Clinton
made dialogue the cornerstone of "One America in the 21st
Century: The President's Initiative on Race," a formal program founded on
the principles of "thoughtful study, constructive dialogue, and positive
action."[4]
Critics again accused Clinton
of failing to offer solutions, ultimately concluding that the President's
Initiative on Race was a failure.
Nevertheless,
many praised Clinton
for his efforts to improve race relations. His continued interest in civil
rights and his concern for black Americans even led Toni Morrison to dub him
the "nation's first black President"--a comparison that drew
criticism from some prominent blacks.[5]
Whatever the merits of such praise, few can deny that throughout his
presidency, Clinton
remained very popular within the black community. According to the U.S.
Department of State, 83 percent of black voters voted for Clinton in 1992 and 84 percent voted for him
in 1996.[6]
Clinton's Initiative on Race may not have
produced many tangible results, but through speeches like "Racism in the United States," Clinton
announced a new era in civil rights within the United States. By embracing racial
differences rather than trying to transcend them, Clinton not only declared
that "race matters" in America, he offered blacks hope
that their concerns would be addressed. "Racism in the United States,"
although it may not have initiated immediate change in America's race
relations, effectively confronted symbolic racism in America and laid a
foundation for future conversations about America's racial divisions and civil
rights.
Clinton's Path to
the White House
Bill Clinton was born William Jefferson Blythe,
III on August 19, 1946, in Hope, Arkansas, three months after his father died
in a car accident.[7] Clinton
and his mother, Virginia Dell Blythe, moved into her parents' home in Hope
where Clinton
spent the next four years. In 1950, Blythe married Roger Clinton, the man whom Clinton would come to
refer to as "Daddy." In 1956, she gave birth to his only brother,
Roger Cassidy Clinton.[8] Shortly
thereafter, the family moved to Hot Springs, Arkansas where Clinton
spent the remainder of his childhood.
After graduating from high school in 1964, Clinton enrolled in the
Georgetown University School of Foreign Service, a program designed to prepare
students for leadership roles in international affairs.[9] In Washington, D.C.,
he attended school and, as he wrote in his application for a Rhodes Scholarship
a few years later, began to "prepare for the life of a practicing
politician."[10] In
addition to taking classes, Clinton
worked on a number of political campaigns and assisted Senator J. William
Fulbright (D-AR) as a clerk for the U.S. Senate Foreign Relations committee.
Although Clinton
received high marks during his first two years of college, his political
activities eventually took a toll. As Clinton
recalled in his memoir, My Life, his "formal
studies increasingly fought a losing battle with politics, personal experience,
and private explorations."[11]
Those same political aspirations helped him win
a Rhodes Scholarship and after graduating from Georgetown
in 1968, he studied at Oxford
for two years. In 1970, he enrolled in law school at Yale University.
He completed his law degree in 1973 and accepted a teaching position at the University
of Arkansas Law School at Fayetteville.
Two years later, Clinton
married Hillary Rodham, a fellow law student he met at Yale. In 1980, Rodham
gave birth to Chelsea, their only child.
Clinton's
political career included both triumphs and setbacks. In 1974, Clinton
lost a bid for the Arkansas
state legislature. Two years later, he won the election for Attorney General
and, in 1978, he ran for governor and won. In 1980, Clinton suffered a devastating defeat in his
reelection campaign. According to Jeremy D. Mayer, he lost his bid in part
because of his opponent's "adroit exploitation of racial fears."[12] A few
months prior to the election, President Jimmy Carter had resettled more than
20,000 Cuban refugees at a military base in Arkansas. The relocation program frightened
and angered many local residents who did not want the black refugees, many of
whom had criminal records, in their community.[13] When riots
broke out among the refugees, resident concerns were further elevated,
producing "weeks of crisis in Arkansas,"
for which Clinton
was "ill-prepared."[14] Clinton's opponent seized
upon the opportunity to reinforce the public's fears, running a television
advertisement that featured grainy images of the black Cubans rioting. The
campaign ad further compounded the other "problems and mistakes" Clinton made during his
first term as governor.[15] After
losing the governorship, Clinton
returned to practicing law.
Mayer asserts that Clinton's
later attitudes toward race and any number of other issues "cannot be
understood outside the context of this deeply personal rejection," which,
according to Mayer, "drove Clinton
into the depths of despair."[16] Clinton admitted as much
in his own memoir. Describing the defeat as a "near-death experience,"
Clinton claimed
that it forced him to "be more sensitive to the political problems
inherent in progressive politics."[17] He added: "if
I hadn't been defeated, I probably would never have become President."[18] Two years
later, Clinton
announced his plans to run for governor once more. In one of his first
television campaign ads, he reflected on how he had "learned from defeat
that 'you can't lead without listening.'"[19] Clinton won that election and continued to serve as
governor of Arkansas until 1993, when he took
the oath of office as the forty-second president of the United States.
The 1980 gubernatorial election was not the
first time Clinton
had to deal with racial issues. As a young boy growing up in Arkansas,
Clinton
witnessed first hand the devastating effects of racism, segregation, and
prejudice. He wrote in his memoir that it was "rare to find an uneducated
rural southerner without a racist bone in his body."[20] Clinton credited his
grandfather, however, with teaching him to treat black Americans with kindness
and compassion and with encouraging him to look past differences in color. The
civil rights movement in the 1950s and 1960s, Clinton added, further shaped his
understanding of the need for racial equality and harmony. He recalled how
events like the 1957 high school crisis in Little Rock, Arkansas,
Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s 1963 "I Have a Dream" speech, and the
race riots in the mid-1960s left a lasting impression on him and motivated him
to speak out in support of civil rights.
Clinton,
however, recognized the limitations of political action on issues of race.
David Maraniss explains that Clinton
expressed those concerns even before entering public office. Maraniss recalls
that during the American Legion Boys' Nation mock legislation session in July
of 1963--one month before King's speech--"Clinton's Nationalists," the leading
civil rights proponents at the conference, declared: "Racial
discrimination is a cancerous disease and must be eliminated . . . But
legislation alone cannot change the minds and hearts of men."[21] The high
school participants identified education as the "primary tool we must
employ," and insisted that change must begin "in the home, in the
church, and in the schools."[22] More than
thirty years later, Clinton
advanced a similar approach in his "President's Initiative on Race."
He explained that the initiative's panel would "help to educate Americans
about the facts surrounding race" and promote dialogue and understanding.[23] But, he
insisted: "in the cause of building one America, all citizens must serve. .
. . Government must play its role, but much of the work must be done by the
American people as citizen service."[24] Echoing
his past proposal for eliminating racism in the United
States, Clinton
once again stressed the importance of education and personal responsibility.
Clinton's
ease and familiarity with blacks helped him gain popularity within the black community
and secure the black vote in almost every political contest he entered.[25] His "formidable
personal magnetism," which Mayer assets "seemed colorblind,"
helped Clinton
appeal to other minority voters as well.[26] In a 1993
speech, Clinton
acknowledged the minority community's role in his political success:
I would not
be here tonight; I would never have been reelected Governor of Arkansas in
1982; I would not have been elected President of the United States through all
those tough primaries if it hadn't been for African-American and Hispanic
voters and Asian voters, people who were different from me, voting for me. I
wouldn't be here.[27]
Although Clinton demonstrated a dedication to ending
racism and racial injustices, he never fully committed himself to one group.
Maraniss writes that as governor, Clinton
"used his power to accomplish many of the integrationist goals" he
had.[28] "But
as a politician seeking to survive in a state dominated by conservative white
voters . . . Clinton
was not always able or willing to assist the causes of black activists."[29] Mayer adds
that during his first presidential term, Clinton
"as he did in Arkansas
. . . repaid his black supporters with appointments but did not often address
race as a policy question."[30] Seemingly
recognizing the threat of alienating potential supporters, Clinton was careful not to align himself too
closely with any special interest or identity groups.
Clinton
strategically negotiated his position on racial policy as well. Shawn J. Parry-Giles and Trevor Parry-Giles write
that Clinton "frequently turned to
questions of race and America's
enduring struggle with racial division in the definition of his public and
presidential image."[31] But to the
dismay of both conservatives and liberals, he refused to position himself on
one side of a debate. Parry-Giles and Parry-Giles explain: "the clarity of
black and white was something Clinton
refused to acknowledge and tried to blunt in both his policy pronouncements and
his many image reconstructions."[32] Adopting a
centrist position, Clinton
called for compromise on issues of race and tried to find policies and
approaches that would appeal to both liberals and conservatives. Although the
centrist approach is "attractive in the abstract," Paul J. Quirk and
William Cunion point out, "it is likely to pose difficulties in practice."[33] The
specific policies of such a program, they write, "will often be hard to
sell, if indeed they even exist."[34] Clinton's approach to race
seemed to experience this difficulty. Parry-Giles
and Parry-Giles write that Clinton's
"continuing quest for compromise (frequently on questions of race) often
frustrated and militated against powerful grammars of political understanding."[35] As a
result, Clinton
was "unable to fully accomplish much on racial issues aside from the
symbolic."[36]
Despite Clinton's
ambivalence toward issues of race, he generated praise from many in the black
community. DeWayne Wickham wrote in July 2005, "Clinton was not this nation's first black
president, but he almost certainly was the next best thing."[37] Why was Clinton so popular among black
voters? How did he come to represent the hopes and dreams of so many American blacks
in the 1990s? In order to answer those questions, we must examine Clinton's rhetoric about racism in America.
Racial Tension in the 1990s
The 1990s brought a number of
developments that exposed America's
racial divide and thrust cultural differences into the national spotlight.[38]
First, the videotaped beating of African American motorist Rodney King by four
white police officers on March
3, 1991, called attention to police brutality and forced Americans "to
see the dirty underside of our institutions."[39]
Armed with Taser stun guns and batons, four officers brutally attacked the
unarmed King, prompting a national uproar and setting off a debate over
treatment of blacks by police around the country. An all white jury's "not
guilty" verdict cast further doubt on the fairness of the justice system
and caused some angry protesters to respond with violence and rioting in
south-central Los Angeles.
Drawing national and international attention to America's
racial problems, the King trial belied the myth of the United States as a great ethnic "melting
pot."[40]
In 1995, the O.J. Simpson trial
again drew attention to America's
racial divide. Simpson, a black and former professional football star, was
accused of murdering his ex-wife Nicole Brown Simpson and a male friend in her California home. The news
media quickly leapt on the story and saturated the air waves with intimate
details of the investigation and trial, allowing Americans to draw their own
conclusions about the case. The nation's response following Simpson's acquittal
made it appear that those conclusions were largely determined by their skin
color. According to the Cleveland Call
and Post, "a large majority of African-Americans" celebrated
Simpson's "fair trial" and "savored the verdict of a justice
system that rarely works on their behalf."[41]
At the same time, however, the paper reported that "nearly 70 percent of
whites polled" in the United
States "became unraveled at the seams
following the acquittal," convinced that a "nearly all black jury
sided with one of their own, therefore, giving a blood thirsty killer his
freedom."[42]
Of course, not everybody reacted to the Simpson verdict based on race. But as
the Boston Globe reported, "whatever
the legal merits of the Simpson verdict, it was a setback for those favoring a
race-neutral culture."[43]
Like the King trial, the Simpson
verdict aggravated racial divisions in America and prompted many,
including President Clinton, to acknowledge "differences of perceptions"
between black and white citizens.[44]
However, throughout the Simpson trial President Clinton remained fairly silent,
and after the verdict he only briefly remarked that the nation should accept
the Simpson verdict and move on. The Atlanta
Journal echoed the President's brief statement: "The jury heard the
evidence and rendered its verdict. Our system of justice requires respect for
their decision. At this moment our thoughts and prayers should be with the
families of the victims of this terrible crime."[45]
According to Marc Sandalow in the San
Francisco Chronicle, Clinton's
response reflected the desire of most politicians to avoid the controversy
surrounding the trial.[46]
The Million Man March, which was
scheduled for October that same year in Washington,
D.C., threatened to further aggravate racial
tensions in America.
In March 1995, Nation of Islam leader Minister Louis Farrakhan called upon "one
million disciplined, committed, and dedicated black men, from all walks of life
in America" to march in Washington, D.C., in support of reconciliation,
responsibility, and atonement.[47]
According to the vision statement written by Farrakhan, the march would convey
to the world a "vastly different picture" of the black male, "publicly
proclaim[ing] to the global community" that black men were "prepared
and moving forward" to unify their families and build their communities.[48]
Many skeptics feared, however,
that the Million Man March would only exacerbate the racial differences exposed
by the verdicts in the King and Simpson cases. Farrakhan's extremist views and
his reputation for allegedly racist, sexist, and anti-Semitic remarks, made it
difficult for some to separate the positive vision of the Million Man March
from its controversial messenger. Many black and white Americans were hesitant
to support the march out of concern that a statement supporting its goals would
be taken as an endorsement of Farrakhan. The Washington Post commented on the unusual silence that greeted the
announcement of the march: "Normally loquacious politicians and possible
presidential candidates, such as President Clinton, Senate Majority Leader
Robert J. Dole (R-KS), House Speaker Newt Gingrich (R-GA) and Colin L. Powell,
initially stepped back rather than forward in the face of widely divergent
racial perceptions of the Simpson verdicts and the growing controversy over the
organizational role of Nation of Islam leader Louis Farrakhan in Monday's march
of black men in the capital."[49]
Most politicians, it seemed, wanted to avoid getting caught up in the volatile
racial climate of the mid 1990s.
Garth Pauley notes that "modern
presidents inevitably face demands that they speak publicly about the nation's
racial problems."[50]
The racial climate of the time, the circumstances surrounding the Million Man
March, and Farrakhan's emerging leadership of the black community created just
such a demand for Clinton.
According to the Washington Post,
Clinton "agonized" over whether to respond publicly to the Million
Man March, "both over what to say and when to say it: He didn't want to
have his agenda driven by the sensationalism of the Simpson case, nor was he
sure he wanted his words to be heard amid the clamor and controversy over today's
march."[51]
Carol Gelderman, however, offered a less dramatic account. She asserts that Clinton "had planned
to speak about racial reconciliation since the O.J. Simpson verdict."[52]
Disturbed by the racial division following the jury's announcement, she
continues, "he decided to make it on that particular day after a tactical
debate within his inner circle."[53]
Reports from those inside the
White House conveyed a similar account. In an October 6, 1995, press briefing, White House
press secretary Mike McCurry explained that the President supported people
coming together to express concern about values and personal responsibility,
but added: "He is not endorsing this march. He's not saying that this
march is a good idea."[54]
In a press conference four days later, Clinton
briefly discussed the racial divide in America and explained that he "may
have some more to say about it in the next few days."[55]
On October 12, McCurry told the media that the President had not yet decided
whether to discuss racial issues in a speech already scheduled for the morning
of the march. McCurry stated: "it does not seem likely to me that he will
be making some major policy address on the subject of race on Monday."[56]
The next day, however, the White House announced that Clinton would abandon his planned campaign
speech and instead would "lay out in a philosophical way some of the
things that he thinks are suggested by the recent debate and discussion in this
country about the subject of race."[57]
McCurry added that Clinton
would "talk in a philosophical vein about what obligations Americans have
to each other" and discuss how they could "come together and address
some of the profound divisions that do exist in our society."[58]
Clinton's speech writers began drafting the
speech on Friday and worked with Clinton
up until 3:00 A.M. on the
morning of the Million Man March developing his final copy. "'There's not
a word in that speech untouched by the president,'" David Shipley, Clinton's speechwriter,
reported.[59]
On the morning of October
16, 1995, President Clinton thus delivered his first extended
comments on race since the Simpson trial, speaking more than fifteen hundred
miles away as crowds began gathering on the mall in Washington, D.C.,
for the Million Man March.
The "Racism in the United States" Speech
Martín Carcasson and Mitchell F.
Rice write that the President of the United States is "perhaps the
most likely figure to be able to rise above the various factions concerning
race" in this country and to make a "substantial contribution to
bettering the situation."[60]
However, "talking about race" is a "difficult enterprise"
in the United States,
Carcasson and Rice note, because of the "heavily fractured" nature of
the audience. In order for a president to make progress, he needs to "transcend
at least some of the differences" among the audience members and achieve
some sort of common ground.[61]
Rhetorical scholars note that
past presidents have often tried to transcend racial differences by emphasizing
Americans' shared values and national identity. For example, Vanessa Beasley
found that in state of the union messages and inaugural addresses, presidents
defined American identity "ideationally, explaining that the civil
religion required citizens to transcend their differences and that they can do
so only by adopting a set of proper attitudes."[62]
Pauley has described presidential rhetoric on civil rights similarly. He notes
that modern presidents commonly use a "constitutional" vocabulary
that allows them to "transcend national differences of opinion about
racial equality."[63]
By grounding their appeals in American values like individual rights, freedom,
and equality, modern presidents have suggested that the nation has not always
lived up to its principles and urged support for civil rights in universal
terms. This seemingly inclusive strategy, however, runs the risk of
side-stepping questions of responsibility, inequality, and economics that perpetuate
the racial divide. Presidents who try to disassociate racial problems from
concrete issues, Beasley suggests, often do more harm than good.[64]
Modern presidents who seek to
transcend racial differences must now also consider a "new form of
antiblack prejudice" that has arisen in the United States: "symbolic
racism."[65]
According to Michael Hughes, symbolic racism is a "new form of resistance
to change in the racial status quo" that is "rooted in deep-seated
feelings of social morality and propriety and in early-learned racial fears and
stereotypes."[66]
Symbolic racism represents the belief of many white Americans that black
Americans "violate traditional U.S. values and thus do not deserve
any special help." [67]
Frequently, he explains, this attribute is manifested in white Americans'
disapproval of social programs designed to promote equality for African
Americans. Symbolic racism therefore poses additional challenges for those who
try to improve race relations. Modern presidents who seek to mend the racial divide,
for example, must not only address the "old-fashioned racism" of the
past, but also the "symbolic racism" that exists in U.S. culture. President Clinton, I
will argue, confronted both types of racism in "Racism in the United States."
Beasley has argued that President
Clinton's "candid" assessment of America's racial problems and his
emphasis on national and individual accountability marked a new approach to
presidential civil rights discourse.[68]
Clinton's critics, however, described his call for a national dialogue on race--first
introduced in his "Racism in the United States" speech and later
featured in "One America in the 21st Century: The President's
Initiative on Race"--as too much talk and not enough action.
Clinton's "Racism in the
United States," delivered on the morning of the Million Man March, is
significant to understanding both Clinton's approach to race issues and the
ongoing civil rights debates in the United States. The speech not only
demonstrates the compassionate and conciliatory approach that helped Clinton gain the support
of so many African Americans, it also contributes to our understanding of how
presidential rhetoric can serve as "symbolic action."[69]
Unlike past presidents who attempted to transcend racial differences, Clinton offered a candid discussion of racism in the United States.
He acknowledged that racial differences existed and tried to create a sense of
unity by recognizing and celebrating Americans' diversity. Although "Racism
in the United States"
may not have produced immediate changes in the racial status quo, the speech
effectively demonstrated Clinton's commitment to
eliminating symbolic racism in America
and gave African Americans hope that change could occur.
Adopting the centrist approach
that seemed to define his governing strategy, President Clinton seemingly
stepped forward as a mediator between the races and worked to promote racial
reconciliation and compromise in his "Racism in the United States" address. In the
process, Clinton
articulated a rhetoric of identification and understanding, designed to create
unity between black and white Americans, while educating his white listeners
about the inequalities in society. He even offered the Million Man March itself
as evidence that black and white Americans shared many of the same personal
qualities and social values. Calling upon all Americans to engage in their own
dialogues on race, Clinton
urged both black and white Americans to "clean our house of racism."
(35)
Clinton
began his speech by talking about the "rift" that was "tearing
at the heart of America"
(11). "In recent weeks," he stated, "every one of us has been
made aware of a simple truth: white Americans and black Americans often see the
same world in drastically different ways." (10) Clinton's acknowledgement of what Beasley
calls a "division of ideas"
among whites and blacks "was unprecedented in American history."[70]
Although the divide has always existed in American society, Beasley notes that
past presidents had promoted a rhetoric of inclusion and espoused an "ideational
model of national identity" that minimized race.[71]
Clinton,
however, recognized that race caused black and white Americans to "experience
the threats of modern life to personal security, family values, and strong
communities" in different ways. (12)
This admission not only
illustrated Clinton's own observations, it
echoed the rise of identity politics in the United States in the late-twentieth
century. Amy Gutmann explains that the "failure of conventional interest
group politics and government to concern themselves with the civic equality,
equal freedom, and opportunity of disadvantaged women, people of color, and the
disabled" led to the formation of organized identity groups in U.S.
politics.[72]
Drawing upon their shared social markers and their mutual identification, these
groups stress the importance of difference and call upon the government to
promote equality. Even though Clinton's
recognition of difference is likely a response to the shift toward identity
politics, his willingness to talk about these differences is characteristic of
his new approach to civil rights.
By drawing attention to the
differing points of view, Clinton
thus affirmed that the racial divide was, in fact, real. His acknowledgement
that race matters in American society not only granted legitimacy to African
Americans' claims of racial inequality, but also justified particular programs
designed to address these issues. Speaking directly to white's deep-moral
feelings about black Americans, Clinton
paved the way for a discussion about racial inequalities and differences. He
even suggested that having the racial divide "so clearly out in the open"
created an opportunity for Americans to learn more about racial differences and
to unite as one America
(17). His race rhetoric thus broke from the traditional "colorblind
rhetoric" that, Carrie Crenshaw notes, "makes its most significant
mark in the political crucible of race relations" as a "symbolic
inducement" to "transcend the race problem."[73]
Asking black and white Americans to confront rather than transcend racial
differences, Clinton
announced that the time had come for a new national dialogue on race that
promoted compassion and conciliation between the races.
Clinton took the lead in the conversation and
described some of the truths and distortions that prevented blacks and whites
from unifying. He acknowledged the existence of two Americas and tailored a message
specifically to black Americans and white Americans. Instead of emphasizing the
concerns of one side over the other, however, Clinton called for compromise and
understanding.
Clinton first introduced white Americans to
the roots of black pain, explaining that African Americans suffered from
unequal treatment "first in law and later in fact" (21). In an
apparent reference to the Rodney King incident, he stated, "Still today,
too many of our police officers play by the rules of the bad old days"
(22). Clinton's
firm declaration suggested that the President generally agreed with blacks who
complained of unfair treatment by police and acknowledged that old-fashioned
racism was still a factor in contemporary society. It was "beyond wrong,"
he stated, when blacks had to fear the police paid to protect them (22). It
also was "terribly wrong" that black men were more likely to be
incarcerated or become victims of violent crime (23). And it was right for blacks
"to think something is terribly wrong" when examining the statistics
on crime, drug use, and college graduation rates among African American men
(23). Clinton's
list of injustices helped to affirm his point that it was just "not true"
that African Americans had been "some sort of a protected class" (24).
Those who believed that blacks were getting "more than their fair share"
through government programs were simply ignoring the facts. By illuminating the
injustices that black Americans still experienced, Clinton's
message to white America
refuted the assumption that blacks received special treatment.
Turning to his black listeners, Clinton called upon African
Americans to "understand and acknowledge" the "roots of white
fear"(26). He stated, "There is a legitimate fear of the violence
that is too prevalent in our urban areas"(26). He noted that it was not
racist to "recoil in disgust" at the views of gang members as
reported in a national survey (28). White Americans did not understand why
black people "put up" with gangs or drugs in their neighborhoods, nor
was it racist for them to question the culture of welfare-dependency,
out-of-wedlock pregnancy, and absent fatherhood among blacks (28). These
problems, Clinton
argued, "cannot be broken by social programs unless there is first more
personal responsibility"(28). Emphasizing problems most closely identified
with impoverished black communities, Clinton
urged his black listeners to acknowledge that there was some legitimacy behind
white fears.
Clinton took special care not to blame blacks
for the ills they faced or white Americans for perpetuating racism. Instead, he
asked all Americans to "take responsibility" for themselves, their
conduct, and their attitudes (35). Emphasizing the need for both national and
individual accountability, Clinton declared, "America,
we must clean our house of racism" (35). Clinton's plan for racial reconciliation
included an open dialogue about race, the promotion of "real opportunity"
(44) for all Americans, and the assurance of a "good education" (45) for
all children and adults. Identifying these measures as first steps in bridging
the racial divide, Clinton
encouraged all Americans to stand up against racism and to unite behind his
initiatives to promote racial harmony.
Clinton's emphasis on individual
accountability illustrated his new approach to civil rights and affirmed
race-conscious Americans' existing efforts to promote change.[74]
At the same time, however, it placed the onus for change on those who still
harbored feelings of difference or animosity toward other races. As Hughes
notes, symbolic racism was a powerful force resisting change, as many whites
remained convinced that blacks already benefited from special treatment.[75]
So too did many black Americans resist Clinton's
plan to acknowledge their own responsibility for racial divisions. Perhaps even
more than white Americans' unwillingness to confront their own racist attitudes,
criticism from prominent blacks jeopardized Clinton's initiative on race.
Louis Farrakhan and the Million
Man March posed perhaps the greatest threat to Clinton's vision of racial unity. Mass
support for the march might seem to suggest that many blacks embraced Farrakhan's
call for black solidarity and opposed Clinton's
vision of racial unity and reconciliation. As the Washington Post reported, Clinton
hoped that by speaking on the day of the march, he could "ensure that his
words were topical, and could perhaps guide the way white Americans especially
interpreted the event."[76]
George Stephanopoulos, one of Clinton's senior
advisors, wrote that he advised Clinton:
"You can praise the values behind the March if you want, but keep
Farrakhan out of it."[77]
Clinton did
just that. In a seemingly strategic move, Clinton
tried to upstage Farrakhan by delivering his major address on race just hours
before Farrakhan spoke at the Million Man March.
Ignoring the more radical views
of its leadership, Clinton described the Million Man March as evidence of the
black community's "old-fashioned American values" (30). He applauded
the black men for openly asserting that "without changes in the black
community and within real individuals, real change for our society will not
come"(29). He encouraged white Americans to recognize the march's "larger
truth" that blacks shared white Americans' fears and convictions (29).
Noting that "most black Americans still do work hard, care for their
families, pay their taxes, and obey the law," Clinton portrayed the march's emphasis on
personal responsibility, family, and community as an affirmation of values that
white Americans could embrace (30). The Million Man March, Clinton suggested, clearly showed that blacks
embraced the same traditional American values that whites embraced.
This interpretation of the
Million Man March differed greatly from that of its controversial leader,
Minister Farrakhan. Clinton
acknowledged his differences, saying: "Of course, some of those in the
march do have a history that is far from its message of atonement and
reconciliation"(15). Although Clinton
never mentioned Farrakhan by name, he clearly tried to minimize the minister's
role in the march. He said, "one million men are right to be standing up for
personal responsibility. But one million men do not make right one man's
message of malice and division"(15). Differentiating Farrakhan's goals
from those of the majority of participants in the march, Clinton said, "Let us pray that those
who have spoken for hatred and division in the past will turn away from that
past and give voice to the true message of those ordinary Americans who march"
(16). By separating the controversial Farrakhan from the march's message of
responsibility, reconciliation, and atonement, Clinton was able to present the event as
evidence that white and black Americans actually shared similar beliefs,
values, and convictions. American values, once again, became the "common
ground" that Carcasson and Rice described as essential to racial
reconciliation.[78]
Clinton's
"Racism in the United States"
offered the president an opportunity to teach both black and white Americans
about their misinterpretations of one another and to lay the foundation for a
new dialogue about race in America.
"Today we face a choice," he said. "One way leads to further
separation and bitterness and more lost futures. The other way, a path of
courage and wisdom, leads to unity, to reconciliation, to a rich opportunity
for all Americans to make the most of the lives God gave them"(17). Urging
Americans to choose the second path, Clinton
declared his own commitment to real social change, stating, "I will do my
part" (63). Clinton,
however, tried to limit the government's role in resolving racial problems by
emphasizing that legislation alone could not create equality among the races.
He claimed that "this issue of race is not about government or political
leaders, it is about what is in the hearts and minds and life of the American
people"(47).
Although other presidents had
also acknowledged that racism still existed in America,
Clinton
stressed the need for individuals to take personal responsibility for promoting
racial harmony. He advanced a centrist position and called upon all Americans
to "build on this effort, to share equally in the promise of America"(37).
In order to do that, he stated, "your house, too must be cleaned of racism"(37).
Until all Americans assumed responsibility for their behaviors and their
beliefs, he concluded, "there will be no progress"(47). Clinton's emphasis on
dialogue as an approach to civil rights would later become the source of great
contention. Claire Jean Kim asserts that Clinton's
"focus was no longer on curtailing the harms that one group afflicted on
one another (or others) but on getting everyone to get along."[79]
To some, that unfairly blamed blacks by relieving whites of their
responsibility for racism in America.
Clinton's "Racism in the United States" reflected both
the racial tension of the time and concerns that Farrakhan and the Million Man
March would exacerbate those tensions. Speaking on the morning of the Million
Man March, Clinton
tried to preempt Farrakhan's anticipated separatist rhetoric and promote
conciliation among the races. Clinton acted as the
mediator between black and white Americans and promoted honest, candid
discussions about racial differences and disparities. His new approach to civil
rights issues offered hope that America
could begin mending its racial divide. At the same time, however, it suggested
that the government's involvement would be minimal.
Many took notice of the speech's
promise. Some journalists praised Clinton's
speech, calling it one of the "most powerful"[80]
and "most sweeping"[81]
speeches of his presidency. Others, like Susan Page, wrote that it "may be
the bluntest presidential speech on race relations since the civil rights
debates of the 1960s."[82]
Mary McGrory called it the "best speech" on race "since Lyndon
Johnson's 'We Shall Overcome.'"[83]
Terry Edwards, Clinton's
speechwriter, explained that as the only known
African American in speechwriting, it was for him a "defining speech."[84]
U.S. Representative John D. Lewis (D-GA), who advised Clinton as he was writing the speech, told
CNN that he thought the president "spoke in a very forceful, in a
straightforward and aggressive manner. . . I think the president said what had
to be said."[85]
CNN also reported that Akbar Muhammad, the international representative of the
Nation of Islam, called the speech "the greatest speech of [Clinton's] life."[86]
Whites and blacks from various political perspectives, it seemed, took note of
the symbolic significance of Clinton's
speech.
Not everyone, most notably
Minister Farrakhan, interpreted the president's message so positively. A few
hours later, Farrakhan addressed an estimated 800,000 men at the Million Man
March in Washington, D.C., along with a national television
audience. He criticized the president for failing to "dig deep enough at
the malady that divides black and white in order to affect a solution to the
problem."[87]
He demanded that the president "clear the scales" from his eyes and "give
ear to what we say."[88]
Insisting that the president "perhaps" might "save this great
nation" if he listened to the "beat of our hearts and the pulsating
rhythm of the truth," Farrakhan called for more attention to the African
American community's problems and demands for change.[89]
Farrakhan's suggestion that Clinton did not go far
enough was echoed by political leaders. House Speaker Newt Gingrich, for
example, said, "I think, quite frankly, that the president's halfway
there. I commend him for trying to move in the right direction . . . but I
think we need to move beyond sensitivity training and talking with each other
about race."[90]
The day after the march, a bipartisan group of House lawmakers, including
African American Representatives John Lewis (D-GA) and Eleanor Holmes Norton
(D-D.C.), urged Clinton
to appoint a panel to lead a commission on race. "We believe a new
presidentially appointed, bipartisan commission
with impeccable credentials may lead to a healthy discussion and a new era of
progress between the races,
both of which this country desperately needs," the group wrote.[91]
Other leaders criticized Clinton
for not taking a firm enough stand against Farrakhan. For instance, Senate
Majority leader Bob Dole said, "I am shocked and dismayed that President
Clinton did not find the moral courage to denounce Louis Farrakhan by name in
his speech today in Texas.
Farrakhan is a racist and anti-Semite, unhinged by hate. He has no place in
American public life, and all who would lead must say so."[92]
These sorts of criticisms would continue to plague Clinton's race initiative in the late 1990s
and undermine his efforts to mend the divisions between black and white
Americans.
At first glance, Clinton's speech may seem
to have little impact on the ongoing civil rights debates. His "philosophical"
address did not motivate many Americans to dramatically change their ways and
his message was greatly overshadowed by Farrakhan and the Million Man March.
Yet, in some ways, "Racism in the United States" might be judged
a rhetorical success. At a time when racial tensions were high, Clinton stepped forward to
address the concerns of both blacks and whites. He strengthened his commitment
to alleviating racial inequalities and laid the foundation for his 1997
Initiative on Race. Although many Americans continue to resist confronting
racial issues in America, Clinton's efforts and
accomplishments are not lost. By stepping forward as President and declaring
that race matters, Clinton offered new hope that Americans could move toward a
more racially equal society by confronting the symbolic racism that stands in the way of civil rights for all.
The Legacy of the "Racism in the United States"
Speech
In 2004, Beasley wrote, "The
modern president who will be remembered for, among other things, trying to put
race back in the national agenda was of course Bill Clinton."[93]
As Beasley noted, Clinton's
approach to civil rights differed from previous presidents. Instead of looking
past racial differences, Clinton
emphasized how blacks and whites viewed the world differently and stressed the
need for all races to take responsibility for the problems. He celebrated
racial diversity and encouraged Americans to come together to discuss and even
embrace the value of racial diversity. As Beasley concluded, "there seemed
to be a newfound emphasis on both national and individual accountability in Clinton's rhetoric."[94]
Pauley has observed that "presidential
rhetoric in the form of public teaching can serve an important function in the
polity, and it is a special type of action--symbolic action."[95]
Understanding Clinton's
symbolic politics and action, both Darlene Clark Hine and Sharon D. Wright have
observed, is essential to understanding his popularity among African Americans.
Hines writes that Clinton
became a "proficient practitioner of the politics of symbolism," a "talent"
that, she argues, "proved to be
enormously appealing to some African Americans."[96]
Wright asserts that Clinton's
symbolic actions "won him even greater levels of admiration from the
majority of African Americans."[97]
Both Hines and Wright refer to many instances when Clinton showed compassion towards blacks and
acknowledged past offenses committed against them. Not surprisingly, both offer
Clinton's 1997 "Presidential
Initiative on Race" as one of his many symbolic actions toward African
Americans.
In "Racism in the United States," Clinton laid the foundation for the formal
governmental initiative on race launched two years later.[98]
Announced in a May 1997 speech at the University of California at San Diego,
the "President's Initiative on Race" promised to "prepare
America for the 21st century with a strategy of opportunity for all,
responsibility from all, and an American community of all our citizens."[99]
The initiative called for a diverse panel of experts to help educate Americans
about the facts surrounding issues of race--including but not limited to
tension between blacks and whites--and to promote local discussions about those
issues. The panel's charge would also include finding, developing, and
recommending concrete solutions to America's race problems. Adding
government support and funding to Clinton's goal
to help "lift the heavy burden of race from our children's future,"
the initiative offered Americans a new route to a unified America.[100]
That path, as Beasley notes, was "paved with talk" and "honest,
direct conversation" about Americans' differences, but also called for
action.[101]
Carcasson and Rice note that dialogue was "not advanced as the solution,
but only as the prerequisite to positive action."[102]
Clinton's heavy emphasis on conversation,
however, prompted much of the criticism of his initiative.[103]
Carcasson and Rice have noted how some critics labeled Clinton's race
initiative "naïve," "rudderless," "blind to reality,"
a "dud," and "timid."[104]
Many skeptics dismissed the whole idea of a national dialogue on race as a
diversionary tactic designed to deflect attention away from the Paula Jones
scandal Clinton
was involved in at the time. Carcasson and Rice argue that the Jones scandal
and later the Monica Lewinsky scandal greatly inhibited the initiative's
success because they drew attention away from Clinton's efforts. They write that the "end
result may have been the most difficult audience problem imaginable: nobody was
really listening."[105]
Carcasson and Rice identified
other significant problems that inhibited the initiative's success. First, the
race initiative itself "suffered from a lack of focus and solidarity."[106]
Carcasson and Rice argued that Clinton's
rhetoric "exhibited an inclination toward class and geography-based
concepts, downplayed the role of past and present discrimination and racism
when discussing what caused racial inequalities, and stressed personal
responsibility." His advisory board, however, emphasized the "enduring
legacy of past and presently active discrimination" and openly declared
that "yes, race matters."[107]
During the fifteen-month initiative, they note, Clinton and the advisory board
were never able to reconcile his preoccupation with class and their
preoccupation with race. Any attempts Clinton
may have made to create the appearance of unity and consistency between the
messages fell short.
Second, Clinton was unable to overcome the
fragmentation of his audience. Carcasson and Rice suggest that Clinton's attempts to
elevate race to the top of his agenda "likely worked to galvanize his
opponents against it."[108]
This division became most apparent on the issue of affirmative action. Not only
did Clinton
have difficulty reconciling the initiative's call for personal responsibility
with his defense of affirmative action programs, he was not able to generate
support for his position from either party. Carcasson and Rice claim that the
conservatives could not get past Clinton's
defense of affirmative action and the liberals did not think that Clinton had gone far enough in his critiques of white America.
"In the end," they write, "the initiative received the support
of neither side and stalled."[109]
Third, Carcasson and Rice argue
that Clinton's
rhetorical strategies "played well in theory but poor in practice."
Indeed, critics were quick to point out that Clinton spoke in favor of racial harmony,
while "avoiding mention of race-specific solutions to discrimination,"
a pattern that Mayer referred to as "Classic Clinton."[110]
Carcasson and Rice observe that Clinton's
lofty rhetoric "may have worked well to inspire, but did little to
overcome real everyday difficulties."[111]
That inspiration, however, "failed to motivate the majority of Americans"
who did not consider race an important issue in their lives. Although they
claimed that it was too early for a "final judgment" on Clinton's race initiative,
Carcasson and Rice concluded that in its first year, the initiative "clearly
failed to achieve what it had promised."[112]
The "President's Initiative
on Race," however, was not a complete failure. Critics of Clinton's approach, Pauley
argues, "should investigate how a president's words might affect national
attitudes on race."[113]
Because "citizens often look to the president for meaningful rhetoric"
on civil rights, Pauley asserts, the "persuasive powers of the office"
give the president an opportunity to "induce the citizenry to move toward
a greater good it might have ignored or resisted if not for powerful symbolic
action."[114]
By speaking about racial differences throughout his time in the White House, Clinton engaged citizens
on an "individual and collective moral level, in addition to shaping public
policy."[115]
His assessment of the race problem and his new approach to promoting racial
reconciliation and compassion dealing with racial differences had at least the
potential to move the "nation toward overcoming its racial problems."[116]
Clinton seemed to recognize this possibility
as well. In his 1996 book Between Hope
and History, Clinton wrote, "It was
clear to me that if my vision of twenty-first century America was to become reality, we
had to break out of yesterday's thinking and embark on a new and bold course
for the future."[117] The "President's
Initiative on Race," Kim concluded, tried to do just that. She agues that
the initiative "bore an historical significance" that critics,
journalists, and pundits overlooked: "the race initiative dramatically
redefined the American race problem at the century's end."[118] Clinton's recognition of
the "multicultural, multiracial character" of American society, she
suggests, set a new standard that future initiatives may follow.[119] Although Kim
acknowledges that Clinton's approach may not
have produced concrete solutions to the nation's race problems (and she
suggests that was not Clinton's goal in any
case), she concludes that Clinton
was successful in "effecting a semantic closing of the racial breach."[120] In her final
assessment of the "President's Initiative on Race," she concludes: "Highlighting
the discrepancy between the nation's practices and its creed has not solved the
race problem but it has done much to advance the cause of racial justice and
equality throughout U.S.
history."[121] Consistent
with Pauley's view that presidential discourse can change perceptions about
race, Kim recognized the race initiative's acknowledgement of racial
differences as prompting larger contributions to the ongoing civil rights
debates in America.
President Clinton's "Racism
in the United States,"
along with his race initiative, reflected a new approach to civil rights.
During his eight years in the White House, Clinton laid the foundation for the "diverse,
democratic community" that the race initiative was designed to promote.
His cabinet and judicial appointments, Virginia Shapiro and David T. Canon
contend, "achieved the greatest gender and racial balance of any in U.S.
history."[122] He also
spoke out publicly about America's
race problem, Wickham observes, "with a candor and insight that far
surpasses that of any of the forty-one men who preceded him into the Oval
Office."[123] Although
many of his critics viewed Clinton's efforts as "merely"
symbolic, an overwhelming number of blacks concluded that Clinton's compassion and interest were
genuine. Tom Joyner, a black syndicated radio talk show host, for example,
found much to praise in Clinton's
efforts:
Bill Clinton had, and still has, a way of making people
believe they are important--that they matter and that he has genuine concern
for their well being. For a group of people like African Americans who have
been treated, at best, like second-class citizens and afterthoughts by most
politicians, he was a welcomed change.[124]
Bill
Campbell, former mayor of Atlanta, Georgia added: "Clinton
had a true commitment to diversity that was not seen in the presidency of the United States
before his election--and black folks understand that."[125]
Indeed, for many blacks, Clinton's words and
deeds reflected his compassion and his sincere desire to create a unified America
that recognized and celebrated racial differences. Although President Clinton's
"Racism in the United States" and his race initiative may not have
produced the dramatic results some had hoped for, Clinton's redefinition of the
race problem in America marked an important step in the ongoing debate over
civil rights in America and revealed the President's ability to help turn that
debate in more positive and hopeful directions.
Jill
M. Weber is a Doctoral Student at Th e Pennsylvania State University.
She would like to thank J. Michael Hogan
and Shawn J. Parry-Giles for their
help with the project.
[1]
Richard Morin, "Poll Reflects
Division Over Simpson Case," Washington Post, Final Edition, 8 October 1995,
A31.
[2] Morin, "Poll Reflects Division Over
Simpson Case," A31.
[3] Here and elsewhere passages in "Racism
in America"
are cited with reference to paragraph numbers in the text of the speech that
accompanies this essay.
[5] Toni Morrison, "The Talk of the Town,"
The New Yorker (5 October 1998), 31.
[7] All of the information about Clinton's childhood and
political career was taken from his autobiography. Bill Clinton, My Life (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2004).
[8] After he became President, Clinton learned that his birth father had at
least two other children with previous wives. Clinton, My
Life, 5.
[10] Clinton,
My Life, 155.
[11] Clinton,
My Life, 80.
[12] Jeremy D. Mayer, Running on Race: Racial Politics in Presidential Campaigns 1960-2000
(New York:
Random House, 2002), 233.
[13] Clinton,
My Life, 275.
[14] Clinton,
My Life, 233.
[15] Clinton,
My Life, 287.
[16] Mayer, Running
on Race, 233.
[17] Clinton,
My Life, 287.
[18] Clinton,
My Life, 287.
[19] Clinton,
My Life, 295.
[20] Clinton,
My Life, 11.
[21] Statement quoted in David Maraniss, First in His Class: A Biography of Bill
Clinton (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1995), 17.
[22] Statement quoted in Maraniss, First in His Class, 17.
[24] Clinton, "Remarks
by the President at University of California at San
Diego Commencement."
[25] Mayer, Running
on Race, 234, 237, 250.
[26]
Mayer, Running on Race, 232.
[28] Maraniss, First in His Class, 453.
[29] Maraniss, First in His Class, 453.
[30] Mayer, Running
on Race, 255.
[31] Shawn J. Parry-Giles and Trevor Parry-Giles,
Constructing Clinton:
Hyperreality & Presidential Image-Making in Postmodern Politics (New York: Peter Lang,
2002), 8.
[32] Parry-Giles and Parry-Giles, Constructing Clinton, 9.
[33] Paul J. Quirk and William Cunion, "Clinton's Domestic Policy: The Lessons of a 'New Democrat,"
The Clinton
Legacy, ed. Colin Campbell and Bert A. Rockman (New York, Seven Bridges Press, LLC, 2000),
203.
[34] Quirk and Cunion, "Clinton's Domestic Policy," 203.
[35] Parry-Giles and Parry-Giles, Constructing Clinton, 9.
[36]
Parry-Giles and Parry-Giles specifically discuss Clinton's
first term, but others have come to a similar conclusion about Clinton's accomplishments
during his second term as well. Parry-Giles and Parry-Giles, Constructing Clinton, 134. See Martín Carcasson and
Mitchell F. Rice, "The Promise and Failure of President Clinton's Race
Initiative of 1997-1998: A Rhetorical Perspective," Rhetoric and Public Affairs 2 (1999): 243-274.
[37]
DeWayne Wickham, "Clinton, Africa, and True
Colors," USA Today, Final Edition, 27 July 2005, 15A.
[38] Vanessa Beasley has observed that the nation
has always been split on racial matters and that the issue of slavery has been
a source of great disagreement in society. Vanessa B. Beasley, You, the People (College
Station: Texas
A&M University
Press, 2004), 94.
[39]
Dana Parsons, "Who'll Police the Police
When It Comes to Brutality?" Los Angeles Times, 20 March 1991, 1.
[40] Although the riots were contained within Los Angeles, the anger extended
throughout the country. See Aldore Collier, "After the Rodney King
Verdict, Where Do We Go From Here?" Jet
82, no. 4 (18 May 1992): 4.
[41] Armetta Landrum, "The Simpson Verdict
in Black and White," Call and Post
(Cleveland, Ohio), 12 October 1995, A1.
[42] Landrum, "The Simpson Verdict in Black
and White," A1.
[43]
Peter S. Canellos, "Acquittal is Said to Stir Voices
of Racial Discord," Boston Globe, 5 October 1995, 1.
[44]
Greg McDonald, "Clinton in Texas for
Votes, Cash/Speech to Tackle U.S.
Race Relations," Houston Chronicle, 16 October 1995, 1.
[45]
"The Simpson Verdict: The Reaction and What They Said," Atlanta Journal, 4 October 1995, C3.
[46]
Marc Sandalow, "Candidates Avoid Trial's Hot Issues," San Francisco Chronicle, 4 October 1995, A12.
[47] Haki R. Madhubuti and Maulana Karenga, eds.,
Million Man March/Day of Absence
(Chicago: Third World Press, 1996), 151.
[48] Madhubuti and Karenga, Million Man March/Day of Absence, 152.
[49] Dan Balz and John F. Harris, "Speaking
Softly on Racial Matters; Political Leaders Largely Ignore the National Debate,"
Washington Post, 14 October 1995, A1.
[50]
Garth Pauley, The Modern Presidency and
Civil Rights (College Station: Texas A&M
University Press, 2001),
3.
[51] John Harris, "'Clean Our House of
Racism,' Clinton Urges Nation," Washington Post, 17 October 1995, A1.
[52] Carol Gelderman, All the President's Words: the Bully Pulpit and the Creation of the
Virtual Presidency (New York: Walker and Company, 1997), 172.
[53]
Gelderman, All the President's Words,
172.
[58]
"October 13, 1995,
Press Briefing by Mike McCurry."
[59] Gelderman, All the President's Words, 172.
[60] Carcasson and Rice, "The Promise and
Failure," 246.
[61]
Carcasson and Rice, "The Promise
and Failure," 246.
[62] Beasley, You,
the People 150.
[63] Pauley, The
Modern Presidency and Civil Rights, 209.
[64] Beasley, You,
the People, 119.
[65] Lawrence
Bobo, James R. Kluegel, and Ryan A. Smith, "Laissez-Faire Racism: The
Crystallization of a Kinder, Gentler Antiblack Ideology," in Racial Attitudes in the 1990s: Continuity
and Change, eds. Steven A. Tuch and Jack K. Martin (Westport, CT: Praeger,
1997), 21.
[66] D.R. Kinder and D.O. Sears, "Prejudice
and Politics: Symbolic Racism Versus Racial Threats to the Good Life," Journal of Personality and Social Psychology
40 (1981), 416.
[67] Michael Hughes, "Symbolic Racism,
Old-Fashioned Racism, and Whites' Opposition to Affirmative Action," in Racial Attitudes in the 1990s: Continuity
and Change, eds. Steven A. Tuch and Jack K. Martin (Westport, CT: Praeger,
1997), 45.
[68]
Beasley, You, the People, 94,
118-120.
[69] Pauley, The
Modern Presidency and Civil Rights, 9.
[70] Original emphasis. Beasley, You, the People, 94.
[71] Beasley, You,
the People, 95.
[72] Amy Gutmann, Identity in Democracy (Princeton, NJ: Princeton
University Press, 2003),
19.
[73] Carrie Crenshaw, "Colorblind Rhetoric,"
Southern Journal of Communication 62
(Spring 1998): 244.
[74] Claire Jean Kim notes, "the emphasis on
dialogue shifted the burden for solving the race problem from the government
onto private citizens." Clinton's
emphasis on personal responsibility also may explain why many more did not
criticize the president for not making race much of a policy issue during his
presidency. See Claire Jean Kim, "Clinton's
Race Initiative: Recasting the American Dream," Public Opinion Quarterly 33 (Winter 2000): 194.
[75] Hughes, "Symbolic Racism, Old-Fashioned
Racism, and Whites' Opposition to Affirmative Action," 47.
[76] Harris, "'Clean Our House of Racism, Clinton Urges Nation,"
A1.
[77] George Stephanopoulos, All Too Human (Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1999), 391.
[78] Carcasson and Rice, "The Promise and
Failure," 246.
[79] Kim, "Clinton's Race Initiative," 195.
[80]
Martin Walker, "Clinton Plea for End to
Hate," Guardian (London), 17 October 1995, 13.
[81]
Todd S. Purdum, "The March on Washington:
The President," New York Times, 17 October 1995, A20.
[82]
Susan Page, "Clinton Urges Open Dialogue,"
USA Today, 17
October 1995, 4A.
[83] Mary McGrory, "Conversations about
Race," St. Louis Post-Dispatch, 18
October 1995, 7B.
[84] Gelderman, All the President's Words, 173.
[86] "Reaction to Clinton's Speech Varies."
[88] Farrakhan, "Minister Farrakhan
Challenges Black Men."
[89]
Farrakhan, "Minister Farrakhan
Challenges Black Men."
[90] "Reaction to Clinton's Speech Varies."
[91] "Lawmakers Urge Panel on Race," Washington Post, 18 October 1995, sec. A, A8.
[92] "Reaction to Clinton's Speech Varies."
[93] Beasley, You,
the People, 118.
[94] Beasley, You,
the People, 119.
[95]
Pauley, The Modern Presidency and Civil
Rights, 9.
[96]
Darlene Clark Hine, "African Americans and the Clinton
Presidency: Reckoning with Race, 1992-2000," The Clinton
Riddle: Perspective on the Forty-Second President, eds., Todd G. Shields,
Jeannie. M. Whayne, and Donald. R. Kelley (Fayetteville:
University of Arkansas Press, 2004), 81.
[97] Sharon D. Wright, "Clinton
and Racial Politics," In The
Postmodern Presidency: Bill Clinton's Legacy in U.S.
Politics, ed. Steven E. Schier (Pittsburg: University of Pittsburg Press, 2000), 225.
[99] Clinton, "Remarks
by the President at University of California at San
Diego Commencement."
[100]
Clinton, "Remarks by the President at University of California
at San Diego
Commencement."
[101] Beasley, You,
the People, 168.
[102] Carcasson and Rice, "The Promise and
Failure," 254.
[103] Patricia A. Sullivan and Steven G. Goldzwig
identified Clinton's
"model of conversation" as one of the most prominent reasons that the
initiative failed to produce results. Mari Boor Ton has argued that the
therapeutic, conversational approach to public problems may result in more
negative consequences than the traditional debating approach. Rather than
promote conversation and dialogue, she notes, the approach can be co-opted to
silence rather than empower marginalized voices, risks "increasing rather
than diminishing political cynicism and alienation," and can "stymie
productive action" (407-408). These critiques, as Carcasson and Rice note,
were made against Clinton's
race initiative. See Patricia A. Sullivan and Steven R. Goldzwig, "Seven
Lessons from President Clinton's Race Initiative: A Post-Mortem on the Politics
of Desire," in Images, Scandals, and
Communication Strategies of the Clinton
Presidency, eds., Robert E. Denton, Jr. and Rachel Halloway (Westport, CT:
Praeger, 2003), 160; Mari Boor Ton, "Taking
Conversation, Dialogue, and Therapy Public," Rhetoric & Public Affairs 8, (2005): 405-430. Carcasson and
Rice, "The Promise and Failure," 243-274.
[104] Carcasson and Rice, "The Promise and
Failure," 243.
[105] Carcasson and Rice, "The Promise and
Failure," 263.
[106] Carcasson and Rice, "The Promise and
Failure," 260.
[107] Carcasson and Rice, "The Promise and
Failure," 244.
[108] Carcasson and Rice, "The Promise and
Failure," 261.
[109] Carcasson and Rice, "The Promise and
Failure," 261.
[110] Mayer, Running
on Race, 234.
[111] Carcasson and Rice, "The Promise and
Failure," 263.
[112] Carcasson and Rice, "The Promise and
Failure," 263.
[113] Pauley does not explore Clinton's civil rights rhetoric in depth, but
offers a few comments about his approach in the introduction and conclusion. Pauley,
The Modern Presidency and Civil Rights,
220.
[114] Pauley, The
Modern Presidency and Civil Rights, 220.
[115] Pauley, The
Modern Presidency and Civil Rights, 220.
[116] Pauley, The
Modern Presidency and Civil Rights, 220.
[117] William J. Clinton, Between Hope and History: Meeting Americas Challenges for the 21st
Century (New York: Time Books, 1996), 7.
[118] Kim, "Clinton's Race Initiative: Recasting the
American Dream," 177.
[119] Kim, "Clinton's Race Initiative: Recasting the
American Dream," 191.
[120] Claire Jean Kim, "Managing the Racial
Breach: Clinton,
Black-White Polarization, and the Race Initiative," Political Science Quarterly 117 (Spring 2002): 77.
[121] Kim, "Clinton's Race Initiative: Recasting the
American Dream," 197.
[122] Virginia Sapiro and David T. Canon, "Race,
Gender, and the Clinton Presidency," The Clinton
Legacy, eds., Colin Campbell and Bert A. Rockman (New York: Seven Bridges Press, 2000), 188.
[123] Wickham, Bill
Clinton and Black America,
155.
[124] Wickham, Bill
Clinton and Black America,
23.
[125] Wickham, Bill
Clinton and Black America,
58.