Healing and hatred in the South

Faith is used and misused in America’s racial struggle, writes Paul Keenan

‘The South shall rise again.’ For those southern US states which suffered so badly in the nation’s civil war, the words are a still-heard clarion call. They are at once a mantra of defiance against the humiliation of defeat in the conflict of 1861-65, but also, depending on the voice, a promise to resurrect the darker elements of the south in that era: segregation and lynchings, the Klan and church-burnings.

Looking at recent events across the same southern states over recent weeks, one could be forgiven for thinking the South, in that ugliest guise, is indeed rising again.

At first glance, the count of churches burned stands at seven, an appalling and intimidating figure. With the passage of days and detailed investigations into each incident, however, the definitive number (at the time of writing) of arsons stands at ‘just’ three: College Hill Seventh Day Adventist Church in Knoxville, Tennessee, which burned on June 22; God’s Power Church of Christ in Macon, Georgia, June 23, and Briar Creek Road Baptist Church in Charlotte, North Carolina, June 24. 

Investigators

The figure may yet rise to five, as investigators in both the northern state of Ohio and South Carolina are still seeking the cause of fires at College Heights Baptist Church in Elyria on June 27, and Mount Zion African Methodist Episcopal Church in Greeleyville, on June 30.

Of course, there is no ‘just’ when it comes to attacks on those most open and welcoming – and therefore most vulnerable –    of places. There can be no doubt that killer Dylann Roof, in seeking to vent his frustrations at the world and, allegedly, spark his envisioned race war, deliberately chose the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston in the knowledge that attacking a praying congregation was the easier alternative to facing off against potentially armed ‘gang-bangers’, while the shock tactic demonstrates that even the twisted Roofe recognised that attacking a place of worship is an anathema to society.

That truth was clearly demonstrated in the days after the shootings, when ordinary people from across the racial divide joined in solidarity against the ‘message’ communicated by Roof. In a move unseen by the shooter, the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church became a focus for that clear majority against his work. Different races and different denominations became united at a site of worship, in a symbolism every bit as powerful as a burning church for the hate mongers on the other side.

The Catholic Church, too, was part of this extraordinary moment of unity.

On behalf of the US Catholic Bishops, conference president Archbishop Joseph Kurtz of Louisville, Kentucky issued a message of sympathy to Charleston. “There have been far too many heart-breaking losses in the African-American community this year alone,” the archbishop wrote. “Our prayers are with all those suffering from this heinous crime. We join our voices with civic and religious leaders in pledging to work for healing and reconciliation.”

The message in turn prompted Charleston’s Bishop Robert Guglielmone to call on his flock to make “a personal commitment” to ending racism and promoting peace.

One’s inner ear can almost hear the impassioned tones of a southern preacher recognising in this cross-community unity ‘faith defending, faith blending, faith transcending, amen!’

Sadly, though, other elements are also at work, even as ordinary citizens seek healing to the enduring phenomenon of racism, what one observer termed ‘America’s original sin’.

In response to political moves to remove the Confederate flag and its racist overtones from public display as a result of the Charleston shootings, the Ku Klux Klan, still very much in existence, announced plans for a July 18 rally in Charleston towards defending both the Confederacy and white heritage. In doing so, and standing up – according to its own website – for Christian values at a time when “America is under judgement from God”, Klan members will host a public cross burning to demonstrate its resolve. 

This, it is hoped, will fulfil the Klan’s self-stated mission of “bringing a message of hope and deliverance to white Christian America”.

Of course, the Klan is not about to concede that its activities are in any way linked with the current spate of church arsons, no more than it did when its resurgence against the civil rights movement of the 1960s saw a similar raft of attacks – let’s not forget the notorious 1963 bombing of a church in Birmingham, Alabama, in which four young girls perished. And herein lies a measure of frustration for those in the current fight against racism.

For congregations fearing attack, the law currently requires proof of the motive for a given fire before it can be classified as a hate crime. In the absence of that element, an arson attack on a church or place of worship (approximately 280 annually, according to the National Fire Protection Association) may well be shrugged off as a teenage prank gone too far, affecting the on-paper perspective of the challenges faced by the African-American community in the US today.

Poverty

This fact prompted the renowned Southern Poverty Law Centre (SPLC), a group which tracks both militant hate groups and crimes associated with them to pen a letter to the US Congress on June 29, urging legislators to recognise that home-grown extremism is on a par with the so-feared Islamist threat from abroad. 

The group pointed out, for example, that while America and the international community frets about online radicalisation of Muslim youth, Dylann Roof openly admitted that his own path to Charleston was paved by “the white supremacist propaganda he found on the website of the Council of Conservative Citizens, a group with a long history of racist extremism”. 

As a side note, the SPLC released a report in late June revealing that, since 9/11, Americans are twice as likely to be killed by right-wing extremists at home than by Islamist militants.

Through all of this, the Klan can maintain its claim to being merely the voice of ordinary and peaceful white Christians.

Most frustrating of all, of course, is that these aspects of ‘America’s original sin’ are not elements of the past long-consigned to the pages of history books, despite the best efforts of faith communities to unite and heal. 

Today, as you read this, the Ku Klux Klan roves about the South. And on July 18, 2015, a cross will burn in Charleston.