A Journalist of Heart, Mind and Courage:
Andrew McDowd "Mac" Secrest, September 15, 1923 - April 17, 2010
By Tom Scheft
Part 3
Mac’s wring style was at once that of teacher,
preacher, iconoclast, activist, and historian. In a May 13, 1954 Cheraw Chronicle editorial, “A Time for
Courage, Responsibility,” Mac discussed the Supreme Court’s unanimous decision
to ban segregation in the public schools. He spoke to people in the South,
noting that their reaction would be scrutinized not only by other American
citizens but also by people throughout the world. The Court’s decision, he
explained, not only affirmed “the free world’s fight against totalitarianism”
but also sends an important message on how
it was to be done:
The democratic way of life is based
on a concept of justice arrived at by due process of law. The end of
segregation, with all the social
realignment and readjustment which it implies, comes about in an orderly,
legal, constitutional manner, in contrast to revolution and upheaval which characterizes
less mature and less stable societies.
Mac
urged a united acceptance of the decision, asking citizens to assume “a moral,
if not legal, obligation to resist the temptation to go into temporizing
subterfuge, such as abolishing the public school system and leasing the schools
to churches or private organizations.” This theme of one’s moral responsibility
to follow just laws, while not abiding unjust laws, would be a central message
years later in Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s 1963 “Letter from a Birmingham
Jail.”
In
contrast to many of today’s political pundits, there was no gloating in Mac’s
editorial. He was well aware that the court’s decision, while creating an end,
also signified a beginning with much work to be done. As such, he reached out
to the decision’s critics:
As painful and as shocking as the
Supreme Court ruling may initially seem, it may well prove to be the final act
that removes the last remaining major differences which have separated the
South from the rest of the nation for over 90 years.
Rather
than dismissing the philosophy of his adversaries, he defended the “vital and
dynamic function” of states’ rights; he called for their preservation, but he
issued this warning:
[W]hen states rights sentiment
becomes stronger than was originally intended and when it becomes so forceful
as to threaten to become a “separtist” movement, endangering our nation and our
constitution, then it becomes subverted, misused, and abused.
He
concluded the piece by restating his opening appeal to all Southern citizens:
Southern Whites and Southern Negroes
have a history of mutual respect, confidence and affection. Those noble
sentiments will survive the trials of educational integration, and we will show
the nation that we are still capable of national leadership and moral
responsibility, even when we feel that some sacrifice is required on our part.
Of
course the battle for school integration would rage on. In a 1962 Chronicle editorial, Mac took on Ross
Barnett, the governor of Mississippi from 1960-1964, and the critics of integration
on the college level who were protesting James Meredith’s attempt to become the
first Black student admitted to the University of Mississippi. Mac presented
both sides of the argument in a clear, straightforward manner. He inserted his
knowledge of history to both inform the reader and dismantle his opponents’
argument. He did not “dumb things down,” but, as the skilled teacher/editor, made
things accessible.
He
began by criticizing Barnett for overshadowing the problem of integration by
raising constitutional questions and ignoring a court order permitting Meredith
to register at the university. When Barnett finally capitulated to the federal
mandate, Mac noted that this “does not change
[Barnett’s] views on the
matter,” and then focused on the crux of the argument—states rights versus
federal law:
On
matters pertaining to the
Constitution, the federal courts
have the authority to make final
decisions and the right to
expect that the executive branch
of the government will see to it
that they are enforced.
In matters of
civil rights, the United States
government holds that every citizen is entitled to the individual liberties guaranteed him by the Bill of Rights and that the 14th Amendment made the first nine amendments to the Constitution binding upon the states as well as upon the
federal government. The 14th
amendment guarantees, among other things, that each citizen is to be given
equal protection of the laws.
Mac explained that the argument of Barnett and others rested on an
extreme literal reading of the Constitution. Because there was no mention of “public
education” or “segregation,” they argued, the court ruling was illegal. With
his knowledge of history, Mac discussed Kentucky and Virginia’s opposition to
laws passed by Congress in 1790. He brought in South Carolina’s attempts to
nullify federal law in the 1820s
and ’30s. He discussed the fight over the right of secession in 1860:
This constitutional issue was resolved on the battlefield in a struggle the full consequences of which the South has yet to pay. In countless court decisions since the Constitution was ratified, the supremacy of federal over state
law has been established. It is no argument at all to say that since the Constitution does not specifically
mention education, the federal
government has no authority in this field.
. . . .
In precedent after precedent, the courts have clearly established that
there are implied powers not specifically stated in the Constitution which give Federal Courts, the Congress and the President a great many powers. Nowhere in the Constitution will one find any mention of the National Labor Regulation Board,
yet few people will argue with the
right of such executive body to arbitrate labor disputes or with the right of the courts and the
President to enforce the rulings
of this body.
One will search in vain for reference in the Constitution to the federal income tax, the Federal Communication Commission, the Interstate Commerce Commission, or
any other of the regulatory
agencies which exercise such tremendous power in our government today. Yet few
will argue that wage and hour, minimum wage, and agricultural laws, as well as the federal income tax, are
unconstitutional.
If the
Supreme Court had no authority to rule on the constitutionality of legislative acts or executive orders,
then the Court would have been acting
illegally in ordering President Truman to return the steel mills to their owners in 1952 and would have been without
authority to review any of the
laws passed during the New Deal.
Does anyone seriously believe that the
American system could long survive under such an arrangement?
After his thorough
history lesson, Mac offered an accessible, but compelling analogy: “Whether it
be a ball game or a government, there must be rules to
go by, and there must be umpires to settle disputes. That is the function of our federal courts.
That question is settled. No amount of legal sophistry by Gov. Barrett and no
amount of riots and demonstrations at the
University of Mississippi will change it.” To this he added: “To upset the legal tradition and reverse the whole pattern of jurisprudence in
this country would be to create intolerable chaos and confusion. It would
paralyze the nation and render its government
impotent at a point in history
when the country faces
unparalleled dangers … What was not clear in 1790, 1832 and 1860 is crystal
clear today. The situation in
Mississippi approximates insurrection.”
Mac completed the editorial
with points that continue to ring true today:
The question of state
sovereignty was settled 110 years ago. The
states are not sovereign. This is a
misnomer. States rights, something quite different from sovereignty, do not
include the right to disobey
federal law as interpreted by the
courts or to deprive any citizen of rights guaranteed to him by the Constitution.
How
does one argue with that? Answer: not very well. Mac’s reasonableness—a term
his son David used in part 2 of this series to describe Mac’s temperament and
persistent, calm argumentative style—was bolstered by his command of history
and augmented by a writing style that juxtaposed formality with, at times, a
comfortable familiarity. The result: serious, convincing writing—rich in detail
and, more importantly, insight. As Shannon A. Justice, the former general
manager of The Cheraw Chronicle, observed
in 2012: “In his editorial writing, Secrest has the ability to take complicated
matters and break them down … explain them clearly through the thoroughness of
his historical knowledge … and give the reader the opportunity to discover the
significance of the argument and then determine what makes, or doesn’t make,
sense.”
She was saying the longest prayer possible in order to put off
going to sleep. She was “God-blessing” everybody she could think of, and when
she had gotten past all the members of the family, all our friends, all the
cousins, and the uncles and the aunts, and the household pets, she added, “And
God bless everybody else in the whole world.” She paused, thought for a minute,
then added, “Except Gov. Barnett.”
In another 1962 editorial, Mac revisited the college integration conflict involving James Meredith:
If most people credit Gov. Ross Barnett with
sincerity in his defense of state sovereignty, and most people do, however misguided
they may believe him to be, why can’t the
same credit be extended to James Meredith, Negro applicant at Ole Miss?
Mac began by addressing Meredith’s critics, who claimed he “isn’t
interested in getting an education there, … is a poor choice for the
role, [and is] being paid off by the
NAACP.” Mac downplayed the financial incentive with “Maybe he is,” but immediately
added “… those who know [Meredith] describe the slight, 29-year-old Air Force veteran as a ‘man with a mission.’ ”
The connotation in elevating Meredith’s endeavor to “a mission” was
significant, and Mac built upon it—suggesting that the objective of Meredith’s
cause was likely far more important than financial reward, that “perhaps
Meredith feels that he is fighting for a
cause larger than himself, for the
opportunity of future generations.” After invoking the future, Mac then recalled
the past:
It was this same sort of fervor that prompted Negro
grandmothers to walk to work for months in Birmingham rather than ride on
segregated buses, the same sort
of dedication that prompts Negro college students to run the risks inherent in sit-ins and
freedom rides. No, one cannot dismiss the
Negro urge for equality of opportunity as simply a desire to make a
fast buck.
While Mac united the generations, he then distinguished the young
activists:
Most people define good race relations as simply the absence of conflict. But the younger generations of Negroes
don’t see it that way. They understand that such a definition simply perpetuates the status quo. They view this as peace at any price, with Negroes
meeting most of the costs. With
most of the country behind their
aspirations for a larger stake in
American democracy, there is no chance that the new generation of Negro leaders will accept the old definition of good race
relations.
They view good, healthy race relations as an open
and free exchange of opinion whereby differences are expressed and then worked
out. The interaction of ideas
and the compromise and changes
which arise out of them spell real progress to them.
Mac went on to write: “It is not easy to find a candidate for potential martyrdom such as James Meredith … Whether
or not you agree with Meredith …, you have to admire [his] courage and
dedication.”
The editorial, beyond asserting facts and perspectives, was significant
in helping people read between the lines. By evoking powerful images of the
Birmingham bus boycott and current protests, by creating a sense of continuity
between generations, by juxtaposing an older view of “good race relations” with
a ’60s view attributed to “the new generation of Negro leaders,” by using terms
like “open and free exchange of opinion,” Mac described a process in which
people communicate, compromise, and work out differences.
Lofty and idealistic? Yes. Naïve? Absolutely not, as history has
confirmed—although at the time it must have appeared that way to many people,
both Black and White. When one reads that editorial today, 54 years after it
was written, one is struck by the inspiration and insight.
As discussed in parts 1 and 2 of this series, the reasonableness and
genuineness of Mac, the person, help explain his success as an editorial
writer, which is further validated by The
Chronicle’s success as a business. During his 17-year tenure, the paper’s
circulation, amount of advertising and net profit increased each year. In his
book Mac explained why The Chronicle not only survived but thrived,
especially since “it would have been easy for outraged readers to drive me out
of Cheraw at any time between 1954 and 1968” (443). In explaining why that did
not happen and why the liberal, progressive views of The Chronicle
“prevail[ed] over the much larger, more powerful voices of the State, the Greenville News, and the News
and Courier” (443), Mac gave credit to “the average citizen”:
There
must also have been deep affirmative bonds among many individuals of the two
races that went deeper than the surface fear and resentment the court decisions
aroused and politicians exploited. There was also the presence of strong,
well-organized Negro organizations. Black people weren’t afraid, or, if they
were, they overcame their personal fears out of a devotion to a larger cause. (Curses and Blessings, 444)
He also credited his newspaper’s
evenhandedness:
[O]ur
readers accepted the Chronicle
because it remained a community newspaper, neither obsessed by nor avoiding
discussion about race relations and related political, legal and constitutional
issues. Cheraw was a microcosm of small towns all over the post World War II
South, and there was plenty to write about besides racial matters. Any honest
reading of the Chronicle or understanding of my personal
activism would reveal my pragmatism and moderation. To call me a radical, a
communist, fellow traveler, outside agitator, carpetbagger, scalawag and so on
was just too laughable to be believed. (444)
In other editorials Mac showed his
appreciation for the strides being made in the South, even while he urged
further progress. In contrast to the simple sound bites of today’s media, it was
his ability to explain his points thoroughly that is so compelling. For
example, in a March 26, 1959 editorial about South Carolina’s progress in
developing its public school system, Mac explained why the state’s low ranking
in terms of public school funding does not tell the full story. Beginning his
editorial with a quote from Gov. Ernest F. Hollings (“All of us must realize
that we in state government are trying to correct the ills of a century in
eight short years.”), Mac then stated “[a] revolution has occurred in education
in this state since 1950.”
Mac spoke of Hollings’ honest admission
“that historically our state has been something less than perfect in its
efforts on behalf of public education.” In explaining how statistics often
distort, Mac argued that South Carolina didn’t “get the credit we really
deserve for progress made over the past decade.” He admitted that South
Carolina ranked 48th or 49th among the states in education
spending, but he pointed out that the public didn’t hear “the corresponding explanations:
that we have a lower per capita income, and, therefore, less money to spend;
that we have a greater percentage of school-age children to educate than any
other state; or that, from a state aid vantage point, South Carolina ranks eighth
among the states in her appropriations to public schools, when we compare state
to local effort.”
He offered a sobering thought: “The
reason our system of public education isn’t even better than it is lies in the
fact that we had such a long way to come.” That explanation was no attempt to
conceal or obfuscate or deny. He was honest: “Although we have had a glorious
history in many respects, we’ve always been rather laggard in the matter of
public education.” He explained South Carolina’s lack of concern for developing
a strong public school system, as well as providing “no effort” to offer schools
for Black children. Mac recalled the 1911 governor’s veto of money for a Black
college, which that politician labeled “a curse against the people of South
Carolina”; the defeat of a $10 million bond issue in 1924 for public schools (as
contrasted with a $65 million bond issue for highways five years later); and the
state’s tardiness and reluctance in levying a sales tax for school purposes, in
approving the 12th grade, and in paying for vital public school
services. Mac returned positively to the present: “Indeed a revolution HAS
occurred in the past nine years, and when our State is the object of criticism,
we can at least take comfort in the fact that we have at last taken off the
blinders and are making tremendous strides forward.”
In addition to his realistic state
pride, Mac was also one to stand up for his region, the South, but not based on
blind chauvinism. In a February 5, 1959 editorial, he sought to educate those
who chose to view discrimination as only a Southern phenomenon. When the Civil
Rights Commission went to New York City to investigate housing discrimination, Mac
wrote: “[W]e hope the Commission will reveal the sham, hypocrisy, and
self-righteous deceit which converts the New Yorker’s concern for Southern
Negroes into such crocodile tears.”
As usual, Mac bolstered his argument
with facts. “While it is to [New York’s] credit that there are laws to prevent
discrimination, there is a tremendous gap between the law and actual
performance.” He was even-handed in his approach. Rather than pit North against
South, he spoke to injustice wherever it existed:
So
long as [prejudice and discrimination are] permitted to exist …, cities will
suffer from juvenile gangs, black board jungles, and all the other horrors
reported in the headlines of the daily press. The waste of human
potentialities, not to mention the more obvious problems, is sad to contemplate.
The first step toward improvement of the situation is to publicize the facts
and make the problem known. That is an important contribution the Civil Rights
Commission can make in New York. We’re glad it is training its guns North as
well as South.
Next Issue: Part 4 explores the
psychological and developmental experiences of childhood and adolescence that
shaped Mac Secrest’s voice as a crusading editor.
References
Secrest, Andrew McDowd.
(2004). Curses
and Blessings: Life and Evolution in the 20th Century South.
Bloomington, Indiana: Author House.
A time for courage,
responsibility. Cheraw, S.C.: The Cheraw Chronicle, May, 1954.
A voice heard across the
nation: A.M. “Mac” Secrest gained national attention with these October 2, 1962
editorials on desegregation and issues at Ole Miss. Cheraw, S.C.: The Cheraw
Chronicle & The Chesterfield Advertiser.
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