The 1964 Civil Rights Act - Then and Now
By Juan Williams
Forty years after the passage of the 1964 Civil Rights Act, it is hard
to understand and even remember the furious battle over the passage
of that law. Today, in 2004, with more than a third of the nation made
up of African Americans, Hispanics, and Asians, it seems as if the impassioned
filibuster in Congress took place in a different century and maybe on
a distant galaxy. How could well-respected senators ranging from West
Virginia Democrat Robert Byrd to Arizona Republican Barry Goldwater
really oppose the idea of ending legal racial discrimination against
blacks at hotels, restaurants, and department stores? How could they
view it as a threat to the nation?
In 1964, however, opponents of the Civil Rights Act (Act) argued that
it was a gross violation of every American’s freedom to decide
who they wanted to work with, do business with, and even eat with. Southern
Democrats, also known as Dixiecrats, portrayed the law as an attack
on the “southern way of life” and prime evidence of the
federal government’s intent to force racial mixing on the South.
The idea of a civil rights act stirred old resentments among segregationists.
Just ten years earlier, southern separatists had sparked the so-called
“massive resistance” movement in an attempt to halt the
implementation of the Supreme Court’s Brown v. Board of Education
decision, which ended the legal segregation of public schools. Using
Confederate rhetoric from the Civil War era, Senator Strom Thurmond
mounted a historic filibuster effort to block the Act. Speaking for
twenty-four straight hours on the Senate floor, he charged that the
federal government was once again intruding in the affairs of sovereign
states and, even worse, interfering in the lives of free citizens.
When the filibuster finally ended and the Senate passed the Act by
a vote of seventy-three to twenty-seven, the nation’s racial and
political landscape was reshaped. Senator Goldwater, who voted against
the Civil Rights Act, made it the basis of his GOP campaign for president
in 1964. Senator Thurmond, once a Democrat, threw his support to Goldwater
in a show of political solidarity. Thurmond also encouraged a steady
stream of southern Democrats to leave their party and join Goldwater
and the Republicans. Forty years later, we understand this switch as
the first step toward the Republicans’ absolute political control
of the South. The GOP has made the South its base for the election of
every Republican president since 1964.
Meanwhile, the Act’s key provisions banning racial discrimination
by employers remain at the heart of politically explosive arguments
over affirmative action. At the start of the twenty-first century, most
people accept the fact that all Americans, regardless of race, sex,
or religion, have the right to eat in any restaurant and stay in any
hotel. Today, this is beyond debate, at least in acceptable company.
Instead, the Act triggered key racial debates that have continued for
more than forty years. These range from whether minority students should
be given preference in college admissions to whether minority businesspeople
should have access to contract set-asides. The Civil Rights Act of 1964
also opened the door to years of legal and political fights over court-ordered
plans for hiring blacks and women previously excluded from some police
and fire departments as well as some labor unions.
In Search of “Elementary Rights”
The advocates of the 1964 Civil Rights Act simply wanted a law to strengthen
the government’s meager efforts to protect the rights of freed
slaves after the Civil War. In 1868, just after the end of the “War
Between the States,” Congress passed the Fourteenth Amendment
requiring equal rights for all citizens without regard for race. But
nearly a hundred years later, the reality of American life was “separate
but equal,” as reflected in the Supreme Court’s 1896 decision
in Plessy v. Ferguson, which ruled that it was legal for a
Louisiana passenger train line to separate black and white travelers
in different rail cars.
The key to the Plessy ruling was separation—not equality.
Once separated, blacks never experienced equality. They always got inferior
facilities, second-class treatment, and even outright harassment, right
down to being lynched. That oppression by private businesses and the
government, as well as the likes of the Ku Klux Klan, flouted the intent
of the Fourteenth Amendment. The Supreme Court acted only in 1954, when
the Brown decision outlawed segregation in public schools on
the basis of the Fourteenth Amendment’s requirement of equal rights.
Still, serious questions remained about the government’s power
to undo racial discrimination in employment and other areas. A similarly
thorny set of questions existed about the rules of racial equality at
private businesses such as hotels, restaurants, and department stores.
But in the aftermath of the Brown decision, black citizens
and their allies in the integrationist movement had a heightened expectation
that the federal government would act to protect their rights. The Supreme
Court demonstrated its willingness to do so with the Brown
case. Later, President Eisenhower offered further proof by sending the
101st Airborne to Little Rock, Arkansas, to protect black schoolchildren
as they integrated Central High School.
In the meantime, however, Congress was paralyzed on the race issue
because of the presence of southern Democrats, all white and many holding
important positions as heads of leading committees in the Senate. President
Eisenhower and later President Kennedy feared risking major political
fights with leading senators, much less opening old wounds with voters
in the South. It was clear that there was a high political price to
pay for formally proclaiming through federal law that blacks had a right
to equality in public as well as private areas of American life. President
Kennedy, narrowly elected to office in 1960 with 70 percent of the black
vote, settled on a strategy of having the attorney general press the
federal courts to review cases of discrimination against blacks. His
plan ran into trouble because the federal judges he had appointed to
the bench to satisfy southern Democrats were segregationists, generally
indifferent or in some cases hostile to the idea of mandating equal
rights for blacks.
Faced with the political stalemate in Congress and the courts, civil
rights activists developed their own strategy. They pursued a series
of highly visible protests and boycotts intended to force the Kennedy
administration and those in Congress who supported civil rights to defend
the rights of blacks to eat at lunch counters, to ride buses without
sitting in the back, and to spend the night in any hotel. Civil rights
groups were also pushing for an end to employment discrimination.
Despite the pressure, Congress and the federal courts—even those
courts free of segregationist thinking—had trouble dealing with
the question of a private business’s right to choose its own employees
without government interference. Housing presented a similar issue,
with owners and landlords of apartment buildings and housing developments
arguing that their decisions on whom to rent or sell to were based on
business. In areas where whites preferred to flee the neighborhood instead
of living with blacks, there was a real cost attached to selling property
to African Americans.
On June 11, 1963, President Kennedy appeared on national television
and said that the country was facing a “moral crisis” over
the issue of civil rights. Earlier that day, Alabama Governor George
Wallace had stopped two black students from registering at the University
of Alabama, literally positioning himself to block them from walking
through the doors. A month earlier, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. had led
demonstrations to end segregation in stores in downtown Birmingham;
Eugene “Bull” Connor, the police chief of the city, responded
by attacking the protestors with vicious dogs and painful blasts of
water from firemen’s hoses. Connor and Robert Shelton, the grand
dragon of the Ku Klux Klan, even tried to get local businessmen to refrain
from negotiating a settlement with the protestors. All the while, the
federal government feared that the widespread media coverage of arrests
and physical abuse might spark nationwide race riots.
While King was in jail in Birmingham for leading the protests against
segregation, he wrote a letter that directly challenged the Kennedy
administration’s cautious approach to civil rights. In emotional
language, King wrote, “We have waited for more than 340 years
for our constitutional and God-given rights. The nations of Asia and
Africa are moving with jet-like speed towards gaining political independence
but we still creep at horse and buggy pace towards gaining a cup of
coffee at a lunch counter.” King’s letter was published
in The New York Times and widely circulated in churches.
During this period of racial confrontations in the South, Kennedy addressed
the topic at a White House news conference, saying that he couldn’t
understand why some southern leaders refused to negotiate a settlement
with civil rights leaders. Speaking with exasperation of a man who had
introduced a civil rights act in 1961 and seen it die in Congress, the
president said it should be possible for Americans of different races
to negotiate at a time when “the U.S. government is involved in
sitting down at Geneva with the Soviet Union.” Later, speaking
on television, Kennedy announced a new plan to deal with racial discontent
in the country: “I am therefore asking the Congress to enact legislation
giving all Americans the right to be served in facilities which are
open to the public—hotels, restaurants, theaters, retail stores,
and similar establishments. This seems to me to be an elementary right.
Its denial is an arbitrary indignity that no American in 1963 should
have to endure. . .”
The president was caught between the moral power of the civil rights
protests and the political power of segregationists. He had seen his
1961 effort at a civil rights act go down in defeat. He was not convinced
that he could be any more successful with a new act. But King and Clarence
Mitchell, National Association for the Advancement of Colored People
(NAACP) lobbyist on Capitol Hill, insisted on a new attempt.
On June 19, 1963, Kennedy sent a civil rights act to Congress. It asked
for an end to segregation on interstate buses and trains and also gave
the attorney general the power to end federal funding for any state
or local government program that practiced discrimination. Kennedy also
requested that the Justice Department be empowered to begin filing suits
against school districts that refused to integrate.
The bill stalled through the summer of 1963. A. Philip Randolph, the
union leader who was then the senior leader of the civil rights movement,
got King and the leadership of the NAACP, the Urban League, and other
major civil rights groups to agree to participate in a massive March
on Washington for Jobs and Freedom (March). The Kennedy administration
and Congress opposed the March.
Administration officials told civil rights leaders that a major gathering
of black people might turn into a riot and set back the cause of civil
rights. Members of Congress told reporters that the march was an attempt
to intimidate them. The administration, sensing that it could not stop
the march, switched tactics and convinced white religious leaders and
major trade unions to join the protest. They also alerted the National
Guard and persuaded the March’s organizers to hold it on one day
in the middle of the week. That way, people coming to Washington would
be more likely to go home on the same day. The March was a success,
and President Kennedy met with its leaders afterwards. Once again, they
pressed him to put his name and political muscle behind the Civil Rights
Act.
In the months following the March, however, the act appeared to be
stalled. In November, President Kennedy was assassinated. In early 1964,
as pressure continued to build over civil rights protests, the new president,
Lyndon B. Johnson, asked Congress to honor Kennedy by passing the Civil
Rights Act. But first, President Johnson, a former Senate majority leader,
got his supporters in Congress to strip provisions on voting rights
out of the bill to reduce opposition from segregationists. They also
assured employers that the act did not institute any racial quotas for
hiring employees. The two major provisions were found in Titles II and
VII. Title II made it federal law to open hotels, restaurants, gas stations,
and stadiums to all Americans without regard to their race. Title VII
banned racial, sexual, or religious discrimination in hiring, promotions,
or assignments. Congress voted to approve the Civil Rights Act on July
2.
Looking Forward
In 2004, it seems as though the days of public support for denying
blacks the right to have a hamburger or go to the movies took place
more than forty years ago. But the political arguments at the heart
of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 continue to be relevant. The controversy
surrounding the debate over whether colleges and universities can engage
in affirmative action to diversify their student bodies is only one
example. The broader argument on civil rights for blacks still exists
as well, as when Senator Trent Lott of Mississippi praised South Carolina
Senator Strom Thurmond for his lifetime of political leadership by saying
that the nation would not have had “all these problems over the
years” if Thurmond—who ran for president on a segregationist
ticket in 1948 and later voted against the Civil Rights Act—had
won that race.
In a nation that is now one-third people of color, the issue of ending
discrimination is even more critical today than it was in 1964, although
the deep-seated racism of years past is not the norm today. The arguments
over how to heal those wounds of race continue to be debated and most
of them rise out of the historic 1964 Civil Rights Act.
Juan Williams is a senior correspondent for National Public Radio’s
Morning Edition. He is the author of My Soul Looks Back
in Wonder: Voices of the Civil Rights Experience (Sterling 2004)
and Eyes on the Prize: America’s Civil Rights Years, 1954–1965
(Penguin 1988), among others.