MISSISSIPPI BURNING

History, art and progress

On 21 June this year, I read two essays on an important anniversary, written from two perspectives.  The first was by the historian and professor, Heather Cox Richardson (Letters from an American), and the second was by the professor, author, lawyer, and political commentator, Robert Reich.

Sixty years ago, on that day, June 21, 1964, three young men (Andrew Goodman, Michael Schwerner, and James Chaney) were murdered in Meridien, Mississippi.  They had come to the attention of the local chapter of the Ku Klux Klan because of their work to encourage voter registration in the county.  (At the time, less than 7% of Black Mississippians were registered to vote.)

This was a dreadful event that shocked the US.  The Klan had murdered the three men, and the Sheriff and his Deputy, also Klansmen, were complicit.

Photo source ar.inspiredpencil.com  

The historical context is the 14^th Amendment of 1868 of the US Constitution.  This granted citizenship, equal protection, and due process of law to all persons born or naturalised in the country and includes, "nor shall any State ... deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws."

This extension of rights to all citizens makes it even more shocking that the authorities that would usually be expected to investigate and prosecute the crime had no intention of doing so.  The moral decay from generations of segregation and racism had become socially and culturally engrained.  Consequently, those institutions of authority could not be relied upon to do what would be reasonably expected and provide “equal protection of the laws.”

The failure of the local police to investigate the murders led to the FBI sending agents to do that.  “While the state of Mississippi would not prosecute, claiming insufficient evidence, in January 1965, a federal grand jury indicted 18 men for their participation in the murders” (Richardson).

This was one of the most shocking crimes in a tumultuous decade for civil rights. It contributed to a public swell of opinion, and on July 2, President Johnson signed the Civil Rights Act of 1964 into law.

The article by Robert Reich was very different – personal and poignant.  Reich had known Michael ‘Mickey’ Schwerner at school.  Reich was several years younger than Schwerner, and although they weren’t friends, “…I do remember Mickey’s warmth and reassuring presence.  He wore a sailor’s cap and seemed forever cheerful. His calm good nature seemed to automatically cast a positive spell over kids who’d otherwise turn to bullying.”

The telling of this history brought some connections to mind. First, it reminded me of the film Mississippi Burning (1988), which was based on this event. The film was directed by Alan Parker and starred Gene Hackman and Willem Dafoe, who portrayed two FBI agents. It went on to be nominated for seven Academy Awards. At the awards ceremony, a single Oscar was awarded to Frances McDormand (Best Supporting Actress).

The film made a powerful impact.  Living in the UK, I didn’t have a strong understanding of America's civil rights history.  The film’s portrayal of racist brutality, smugness, and acceptance of the ways things were prompted audiences to ask questions about the social mores that could make this acceptable. 

Photo source Mississippi Burning (1988) - Photos - IMDb

Many people who watched this film, worldwide and in America, would have had a similar reaction.  The film conveys important messages: these kinds of things happened; Black people couldn’t depend on the police and the judiciary for the protection of their rights; racial hatred was deeply and culturally embedded in the psyche of the US. 

The film had critics.  The Black lobby groups and members of the victims’ families felt that the movie deviated from the actual events and did the victims a disservice.  Some film critics deplored presenting the events from a white filmmaker's perspective and hijacking the civil rights journey to make a cinematic thriller.  Alan Parker responded that it was a work of fiction and that, as such, it relayed important messages to a broader audience.  The latter is the view I share – the film had a huge impact and would have made many much more aware of the iniquities that existed for those who argued for civil rights for Black people.

The second impact was personal.  I spent a year at the University of South Carolina in 1980 on a scholarship from my university in the UK.  While there, I was shocked to hear the N-word shouted out from cars and trucks to Black people on the street.  There was undoubtedly racism in the UK, but what I saw in South Carolina was different; it was more overt and vicious.

At the time, I felt fortunate to be courting a Puerto Rican student who happened to be Black.  I thought almost nothing of what other people made of our relationship, but we were the only mixed-race relationship I recall on campus.  One weekend, we visited Savannah, Georgia, where we experienced a particularly hostile and scary environment on the riverside.  My girlfriend’s mother told us afterward that it was less than twenty years since the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and that fixed cultural attitudes would need much more than a generation to shift.  I hadn’t thought about it in that way before.

Progress on human rights and equalities can seem glacially slow.  Cultural activity – history, fiction, art, filmmaking, poetry, etc. – is essential to building understanding, consensus, and momentum.  Crucially, there are critical moments in history when a surge in progress is made, often due to legislation.

Heather Cox Richardson June 21, 2024 - by Heather Cox Richardson (substack.com)

Robert Reich - 60 years ago today, they murdered my protector (substack.com)