In Charleston, South Carolina, history is everything. The city welcomes travelers from all over the world and sells its sometimes beautiful, sometimes tragic history to everyone. This is one of the oldest cities in the “New World.” It was the site of Revolutionary and Civil War battles. Indeed, Fort Sumter, guarding its harbor, was the starting point of the Civil War.
My wife’s family arrived in Charleston in the 1600s. One of her ancestors signed the Ordinance of Secession in 1860. (Indeed, we have a copy of this document in our closet.) I studied at the medical school. Our daughter was born there. We were attended historic churches there. We ate the city’s fine food, and we delighted in the city’s rich culture.
That’s why the removal of John C. Calhoun’s statue today in Charleston’s Marion Square is magnanimous and particularly moving to me. It speaks that the city, the pride of the state, has realized that there are better patriots than Calhoun. Yes, Calhoun, a U.S. Senator and Vice President, was influential. He sought to preserve the Union by preserving slavery. Ultimately, his life’s work failed. Slavery is not compatible with American ideals.
Charleston has housed greater leaders than Calhoun. For example, Denmark Vesey, who went to church a block away from where I once attended church, died for planning a slave rebellion, the greatest fear of slaveowners. His notion of liberty was and is more compatible with American ideals than anything Calhoun stood for. After emancipation, Septima Clark fought for legal equality and education as human rights. Such contributions continue today in Charleston through the sweat equity of those of different skin-colors, genders, ethnicities, and heritages. Indeed, both conservatives and liberals in the state are represented by people of color in national leadership.
There are others – many others – who demonstrate the best in humanity better than Calhoun. The Charleston Nine, savagely murdered at Mother Emmanuel Church for the color of their skin, brought about more positive change than anything Calhoun did. Their deaths reminded South Carolina of its checkered past and its noble black citizenry. In response, Charlestonians took to the streets to hug each other (of all things!) in a united stand, and the state legislature removed the Confederate flag from atop the statehouse dome. As if such a symbol of traitorous defiance and inhumane oppression ever belonged there.
Yes, in Charleston, history is everything – our chosen narratives of history are everything. To remove Calhoun’s statue from overlooking the city removes his ghost from haunting us any further. It inhibits his legacy of using “state’s rights” to stand up against human freedom. Charleston chooses to integrate itself with human longings for liberty instead of an oppressive, outdated view of the “good life.”
This political battle is about preserving and defending our history, but it’s not only about the Confederate history. It’s about which version of history – i.e., whose history – we choose to self-identify with. The freedom of American slaves is the narrative South Carolina is starting to embrace. We no longer view ourselves through the prism of the ante bellum South. Patriots abound in South Carolina, from the Revolutionary War period, through the Civil War and Reconstruction, into the Civil Rights era, and onto modern times. These patriots are not only the ones from 160 years ago on statues tragically glorifying racist defiance. Rather, they are people of all colors and creeds, people with human hearts – like us.
South Carolina portends to be a religious state that has predominantly Judeo-Christian values. It’s high time that we recognize images-of-God among us in every form. Yes, in Charleston, history is everything. In our time, we must take our place in history by choosing a better and more inclusive narrative that celebrates American and human freedom. Who better than ennobled and long-suffering people of color to lead us in this change?
Well written and well thought, Scott