A DEEPER DIVE INTO THE N-WORD: DISTURBING HISTORY/TROUBLING PRESENT

In our last post we expressed the idea that perhaps today’s racists should abandon their fake civility and speak like they think and act. We noted thatcurrent day racists don’t regularly use the n-word in public, unlike their more obviously racist predecessors, who often did. The thought occurred to us that we should take a deeper dive into the history of this racial slur. Maybe we could explain there isn’t any difference between the fake civility of Georgia Governor Brian Kemp, Texas Governor Greg Abbott, and Fox News host Tucker Carlson and 1960s era segregationists like Mississippi Senator Jim Eastland, South Carolina Senator Strom Thurmond, and Alabama Governor George Wallace. The words differ, but the policies are the same – voter suppression, gerrymandering, and fearmongering that prevent the accumulation of black (and brown) political power and quash challenges to white supremacy.

 

‘The Atom Bomb of Racial Slurs’

In the O.J. Simpson trial, prosecutor Christopher Darden called the n-word “the filthiest, nastiest word in the English Language.” One British Member of Parliament (MP) termed it “the most offensive word in English.”  Harvard law professor Randall Kennedy dubbed it the “atomic bomb of racial slurs” because “if you want to put somebody down, analogize them to the [n-word].”  These characterizations of the n-word haven’t stopped its use in contemporary society, on either side of the Atlantic.

Just in 2017, Diane Abbott, a Labor Party MP of African descent, described being repeatedly referred to by the n-word on social media and in e-mails from members of the public.  In the United States in 2016 a Charlotte, North Carolina television journalist was reporting on a hurricane when a man walked by and dropped the n-word on him. Donald Trump’s election as president spurred numerous accounts of racial slurs, including the n-word, being hurled at public school students.

 

History

Where did the n-word come from and how did it become the slur it’s now recognized as?  Scholars seemingly agree that the word originated around 1619 with the arrival of the first African slaves in what’s now the United States. The slaves were referred to by the Spanish and Portuguese term for “black.” The word—N-I-G-G-U-H-S—for a time was seen as merely descriptive, but before long it became derogatory. By the 1820s and 1830s, white people had begun using it as a way of admonishing children not to engage in certain behavior. It became a widely recognized epithet aimed at making black people feel inferior and unworthy. As one British professor observed, “It’s really tied into the idea that African people aren’t really human beings.”

 

Substitutes

It’s clear that much of the public now won’t stand

for use  of the n-word. The BBC, for example, received over 18,600 complaints about a July 2020 story that included the word in an account of a racially aggravated attack. Scrubbing the word from accepted public discourse, however, hasn’t prevented racists from getting their racial message across. Consider:

•       In 2014 then-National Football League star Richard Sherman noted that he’d been called a “thug” and “ghetto” for a rant he went on about events in an NFL game.  Sherman said such terms had become “the accepted way of calling somebody the n-word.”

•       Beginning in the 1980s with Ronald Reagan, code words like “welfare queen” in essence became a surrogate for the n-word as conservative political figures put a black face on abuse of public assistance programs.

•       “States’ rights” was a favorite term of southern politicians in the ‘60s in opposing civil rights measures. Reagan gave that term new life by opening his 1980 general election campaign in Mississippi in the same county where three civil rights workers were murdered in 1964. The n-word wasn’t used in his speech, but it was an undercurrent of his message.

•       Reagan’s vice president, George H.W. Bush, saved his 1988 presidential campaign with the infamous Willie Horton ad that put a black face on crime. The ad didn’t use the n-word, but it wasn’t needed. His base got the message.     

Former NBA star Charles Barkley was once quoted as saying many people “don’t have enough courage to say the n-word, so they say things like ‘thug’ or ‘street cred.’” Even if Barkley is controversial as a social commentator, he’s not wrong about this.  Many people won’t say the n-word in public, but their policy preferences get the message across.

We’d prefer a world in which people didn’t use the n-word. What we really prefer is a world in which

people  didn’t think the thoughts that lead to the n-word.  In advocating an end to false civility and for honesty about the n-word, we’re really suggesting that what we’d like to know is where people stand. If they won’t stand with us in opposition to racial oppression, we prefer seeing who they are and understanding how they think.  As we said before, talk like you think and act. It was clear to everyone what racists believed and meant when they used the n-word.  That had the benefit of letting the rest of us identify them.

THE 2020 REPUBLICAN CONVENTION: RENDERING JUDGMENT ON THE BAD, THE BAD, AND THE UGLY OF DONALD J. TRUMP

If the August 24-27 Republican National Convention were a legal case and we sat as appellate judges deciding on the proceedings, our opinion might look like this:

Before Justices Jones, Walker, and Wiley. Justice Wiley delivered the opinion of the court, joined by Justice Jones. Justice Walker, joined by Justice Jones, concurred and dissented in a separate opinion:  

As with Democrats the previous week, the coronavirus pandemic  dictated an event unlike traditional American political

conventions because it wasn’t held in a big hall before thousands. Republicans weren’t as careful as Democrats had been about social distancing or wearing masks. The GOP permitted live audiences for some speeches.    

We don’t know if President Trump will get the coveted “bounce” in the polls. Even if he does, history suggests that won’t last and the presidential race will settle into stability until the debates begin at the end of September.

A Matter of Location

Unable because of the pandemic to hold their convention in the original Charlotte, North Carolina location or at a substitute venue in Jacksonville, Florida, most speakers delivered their remarks from places around Washington. They spoke from The White House, Fort McHenry in Maryland, and the Andrew W. Mellon Auditorium. The federal government owns Mellon Auditorium and it’s available for public use. Using The White House and Fort McHenry, however, raised legal and ethical questions about employing government property and workers for political purposes. 

Trump delivered his 71-minute acceptance speech from the White House rose garden before 1500 people, not socially distanced and mostly unmasked. Trump made clear the GOP’s strategy in the coming campaign –  falsely claim he has handled the pandemic well, attack Joe Biden on China-related trade issues, and go after Democrats over civil disturbances.

Trump delivering his speech before large crowd - mostly unmasked and not socially distanced.

Tuesday night Trump announced a pardon at the White House and participated in a naturalization ceremony there for new citizens. Critics thought using the “People’s House” in such a blatantly political way was unethical, perhaps illegal. His involvement in the naturalization ceremony seemed hypocritical in light of his immigration policies.

Convention planners paid the criticism no mind. They thumbed their noses at potential Hatch Act violations, secure in the knowledge Congress, with a Republican-controlled Senate, could do little about them. Some House members promised investigations, but probably nothing will come of them.

A Matter of Strategy

For Trump, trailing in the polls, the strategic question as putting on a show targeting the limited number of undecided voters versus one aimed at solidifying the base. For the most part, he chose the latter approach. Speakers and prepackaged segments served up red meat on abortion, guns, and the horror of black and brown hordes supposedly invading the suburbs. That decision made commentators like MSNBC’s Nicole Wallace, a former GOP

operative herself, wonder out loud if the Trump campaign feared it didn’t have its base locked down. Others speculated he was simply trying to scare his base to the polls. Few speakers offered an inclusionary vision. The messages catered to those already on the Trump train or standing at the station for boarding. 

        

A Matter of Race

The convention occurred during an uproar, including postponements of NBA, WNBA, MLB,  and NHL games by protesting players,

over the shooting by a white policeman of an unarmed black man, Jacob Blake in Kenosha, Wisconsin. Republicans barely mentioned him (Tuesday night’s invocation being an exception).  Vice

Mike Pence

President Mike Pence used the unrest generated by the shooting for a loud call in his Wednesday night acceptance speech for “law and order.” Pence didn’t mention that the teenager accused  of killing two people in the disturbances was photographed attending a Trump rally.

Most speakers made only passing references to calls for reform in the wake of the police shootings. Instead, they heaped praise on law enforcement and painted a dark picture of life under a Biden presidency, ignoring the fact recent civil unrest occurred on Trump’s watch.

Convention planners trotted out black male speakers who proclaimed Trump isn’t a racist and that blacks who think for themselves support him. The move likely came from the view, reflected in polling, that some black men find Trump’s aggressive style appealing, meaning Republicans could peel off ballots from a few black men while black women remain the Democratic party’s most loyal voting group.

A Matter of Truth

This convention didn’t establish a new standard for honesty in Trump world. One CNN fact-checker found over 20 inaccuracies in Trump’s acceptance speech. In fact, speaker after speaker misstated facts, offered blatant inconsistencies, or told outright lies about Democrats, Biden, and the world in general. Some of the insults were particularly

Lou Holtz speaking at RNC

troubling, like former football coach Lou Holtz’s Wednesday night assertion that Biden is a Catholic “in name only” because he supports abortion rights. One Catholic priest pointed out Trump and his supporters don’t agree with or follow many other Catholic teachings.

The convention’s portrayal of Trump also suffered from a truth-telling deficit. Much said conflicted with what we’ve seen the last three and a half years. The program presented Trump as compassionate, competent in handling the pandemic, and sensitive to ordinary Americans. It resembled a play put on for the purpose of supporting a man who embodies almost nothing he is. The party described a fictional character when someone just the opposite hovered off stage waiting to speak his lines. 

Trump’s convention marked another low point in his presidential tenure. He disregarded

norms, flaunted or openly violated the law, and engaged in massive deception. It was an additional item on the long exhibit list justifying a vote for his challenger.

Justice Walker, joined by Justice Jones, concurring and dissenting:

The Republican National Convention reminds me of the principle I learned from my mother: If you can’t say something good about something or somebody, don’t say anything.