An Officer, A Gentleman and America's Continued Battle Over Race- Colin Powell and the Legacy of the Black Civil War Soldier

A few nights ago, MSNBC aired a documentary about the Civil War, which is to say that it re-opened a discussion about our history and the subject of race. Actor Brad Pitt and Harvard professor Henry Louis Gates served as producers- a fitting synergy since Pitt hails from a Confederate state (Missouri) and Gates hails from West Virginia, a state that rejected siding with the Confederacy.

For those of us of Southern birth, much of the film's discussion retread familiar territory about the enduring tenacity of Confederate loyalty, even within the 21st century, the constancy of racial tension in the American South, America's mythologizing of "genteel" Old South antebellum plantation culture and dismissal of the brutal work camp realities that actually defined plantation life. (Can you imagine any European choosing to have weddings or family gatherings at any of the brutal work camp sites associated with its 20th century history?)

But there was one subject raised that was especially illuminating and that was the history of the Black soldier in the Civil War. In fact, for those of who follow American military history, as my late father did, the Black soldier has been the hidden figure in both our great Revolutionary War and Civil War.

Much may be known about Crispus Attucks as the first casualty of the Revolutionary War. Far less has been discussed about former slaves such as David George, one of my maternal ancestors, who fought with the British in order to secure his freedom, which he in fact did after fleeing with British soldiers to Nova Scotia.

And certainly within the context of the Civil War, the role of Black soldiers has been widely ignored, with the exception of the storied Massachusetts 54th Regiment which inspired the movie "Glory" - the movie that led to Denzel Washington's first Oscar for Best Supporting Actor and the ascendancy of the incomparable Morgan Freeman. The documentary shared an insight that I had not heard before- when President Lincoln decided to enlist Black men as soldiers, not the help, their engagement helped turned the tide of the Civil War that eventually secured the Union's victory.

Yet, their fight for equality, even when ostensibly secured by the 13th, and 15th amendments to our Constitution endured. Moreover, Reconstruction did nothing to mitigate the divisive hostilities of race. As the Civil War documentary points out, the only lasting reconstruction that took place was that political and economic expediency that effectively restored the status quo.

The battle fought by the nation's colored regiments did nothing to stop the systemic barriers that replaced plantations and institution of slavery with legally sanctioned and socially accepted barriers to racial equality and economic independence in every single aspect of American life. More importantly, what the Civil War documentary makes very plain is that the old minefields and battlegrounds of race remain quite active in our country.

During the segment on Black Civil War soldiers, I couldn't help but reflect on the storied legacy of General Colin Powell, who passed away last week. General Powell didn't fight in the Civil War, of course, but his service and engagement in numerous tours of duty beginning with the Vietnam War represents a seldom-discussed theme- Black patriotism and what military service has historically represented within the Black community.

In the whirlwind of of diversity conversations and racial strife in our country, the story of Black victimhood is a prevailing one, rather than the story of Black heroes and bravery within American institutions like the military. In many respects, Black Civil War soldiers with their blood, sweat and tears laid the groundwork for federally recognized civil rights and pathways within a segregated country. They helped to further the cause of equal opportunity and success unblemished by racial prejudice and alienation.

General Powell's story is both highly inspirational and instructive about the original template for leadership success and equal opportunity for Black men in America- the military. The American military isn't a perfect institution by any means, but it still does something extraordinarily well that other institutions do not.

It draws straight and uncompromising lines around values such as honor, duty, sacrifice and service. People in the armed forces dedicate their lives to preserving those principles, not for money, but for love of country.

Yes, there are benefits, of course. Yet, no one can deny that military people carry themselves in a way that makes them stand out in the rooms they are in.

They know beyond a shadow of a doubt that they are standard bearers. America's standard bearers. The fact that the military provides a place where Black men and women can assume that role as an institutional standard bearer without question, when the fight for pay parity, employment, and leadership continues to rage in the corporate, philanthropic and higher education sectors, is incredibly significant.

Have there been ugly incidents of racism and sexism in the military and its service academies that have seriously negated these principles? Absolutely. But when those principles are violated, perpetrators have violated not only their victims and fellow officers, they have violated the tenets of the democracy that have they sworn to protect. Increasingly, the military has moved resolutely to address those violations. Accountability, after all, is a cornerstone of military service.

The strength of our military has always rested on the fundamental willingness of men and women in our armed forces to be accountable for and devote their lives to protecting an ideal- democracy. That ideal is larger than their own biases and the racial divides still prevalent in our country. And when we think carefully about where the foundational steps for institutional integration began in America, the military has been in the vanguard as an undeniable influence.

President Truman's Executive Order 9981 desegregating the military and integrating it entirely in 1946 was a game changer that preceded Brown v. Board of Education, the Civil Rights Act of 1964, affirmative action and our current mandate for increased diversity and inclusion. Truman, the grandson of slave owners from Missouri, evolved into an unlikely ally for civil rights in America and paved the way for a leadership platform for Black men in our country centered by equality.

For Black men in America who didn't want to teach or preach, practice medicine, or run a funeral home (These were broadly accepted pathways to respectability and leadership for Black men in the 1940s and 50's), the options were slim. For a certain ambitious Caribbean-American son of immigrants from the Bronx, life in the military offered an opportunity to be part of a noble mission that was larger than himself and his personal circumstances. It also offered a chance at equal opportunity.

The military offered a space in which exceptionalism could be groomed nurtured, elevated, even as a Black man in segregated America. The examples, while spare, were clear- the Tuskegee Airmen, General Benjamin O Davis, Sr. the first Black general in the U.S. Army, and Robert Smalls, a former slave turned captain in the Union Army who gained his freedom by commandeering a Confederate gunnery ship from Fort Sumter South Carolina into Union hands at a blockade checkpoint.

Unlike the military structure that Davis and Smalls navigated in which, more often than not, Black men, even college-educated ones, found themselves relegated to performing menial roles in the kitchen, maintaining equipment, or janitorial duties, the military that Colin Powell entered in the late 1950's was a fully integrated one. Truman's 1946 executive order opened the door to Black men and enabled them to enter into the full trajectory of military life.

However, life outside of the base was still a strictly segregated one. Powell never forgot the indignity of being denied service in the local cafeterias and restaurants in Fort Benning, Georgia for instance, even when in uniform. There also remained a shameful history of Black military veterans being beaten, even lynched by mobs, while still in their uniform as part of race riots or for simply daring to wear their uniforms in public.

In 1946 , the brutal blinding of Issac Woodard, a decorated World War II veteran, by the police in South Carolina while in uniform hours after his discharge from the Army, provoked a George Floydesque moment in the country that highlighted scores of prior similar incidences involving Black service members. The subsequent integration of the armed forces later than year offered a compelling promise of overcoming societal prejudice and racial alienation within the straight lines of honor, duty, sacrifice.

Powell, who served as a member of his college ROTC, believed in that promise and grasped it like a lifeline. Of his time as a young officer in Georgia, he noted: “The Army was living the democratic ideal ahead of the rest of America.”  

Through his own exceptional talents, discipline and deeply felt love of America and belief in its Democratic promise, Powell honored the sharply drawn lines of a soldier's life and ascended into the upper ranks of military leadership. And from there, well we all know the story, he became an American icon as the country's first Black Secretary of State and head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

In many respects, General Powell was the most powerful Black man in America and one of the most powerful in the world.

Decades earlier, in the dawning of a different civil rights movement known as Reconstruction, Robert Small also elevated himself from military service into trailblazing roles in the South Carolina General Assembly as a state senator and representative before becoming South Carolina's first Black congressman. His exceptionalism in the military had paved a way for him in a most remarkable way. It's unclear how much of this history is being taught in South Carolina schools or as part of Civil War history in other parts of the country.

But one thing is clear. Robert Smalls' story and that of the men who fought valiantly in the War Between the States and the women who helped, like Civil War spy Mary Bowser who worked in the home of Confederate President Jefferson Davis, to preserve the American union isn't critical race theory. It is flesh and bone American history that shouldn't require a documentary to be acknowledged or discussed.

Those men of the colored regiments and the women who assisted their efforts had dreams about an America that would transcend race. They put their lives on the line as enslaved people and war "contraband" to fight for their race, their freedom, and a nation in which men and women would be judged strictly in terms of their talent, potential and yes, patriotism.

Powell's record on race is a muted one defined less by words and more by his actions. He rarely talked about race in explicit terms, but if you read his autobiography, note his marriage to his wife Alma, a native of Deep South Alabama, and other details of his life, it's clear race was a consideration that he was mindful of throughout his entire career.

Race, however wasn't at the front and center in his story. That was a fight in and of itself. Those are the personal stories that we will never know.

There were other fights for others, too. His active support and mentorship of Black soldiers is seldom mentioned in summaries about his life. The role he played in his post-military life as a spokesman at National Diversity Council conferences isn't widely known. Much, however, has been noted about his defiant stand at the 1996 Republican National Convention for abortion rights and affirmative action.

But the more important part of his speech often gets overlooked. His statement that "I believe that we are a big enough party- a big enough people- to disagree on individual issues and still work together towards a common goal- that is to restore the American dream" lies at the center of his speech. He believed that disagreements shouldn't tear apart our country, rather we, as citizens, should focus on America and making our country all that it could be.

The legions of Black Civil War soldiers and leaders like Robert Smalls had belief in the same principle. In response to a multi-faction(that included former slaves) Reconstruction movement to repatriate formerly enslaved men and women to Africa, Smalls declared: “There are men now in Congress who are willing to vote for an appropriation out of the treasury to have us sent out of the country. “We do not intend to go anywhere, but will remain right here and help make this the most powerful of all governments.”

That's patriotism.

The embrace of the American promise by formerly enslaved men and women like Harriet Tubman and Cathay Williams, the first Black women to enlist in the US Army(she disguised herself as a man), willing to fight for the future of a nation that regarded them either as commodities or during the war, as contraband, lies at the heart of General Powell's transformative and iconic legacy. It's important more than ever to connect those dots and to celebrate the legacy they reflect.

General Powell once noted that "America was a family" above being reduced to warring factions over race. That remains to be seen. This is the moment that will determine who we are as a nation. In many ways, we are still fighting the Civil War.

Of that tumultuous, dark period, Union Captain and U. S Congressman Robert Smalls noted in 1915 "My race needs no special defense for the past history of them and this country. It proves them to be equal of any people anywhere. All they need is an equal chance in the battle of life.” Colin Powell embraced that chance and excelled at the highest levels.

The Civil War remains the most defining moment in American history and true reconciliation still lies at a distance, but in fighting for the America he believed in and that Robert Smalls believed during the Civil War, General Powell triumphed and showed us all what the American dream could be. For everyone.

He was the future that those brave men and women envisioned and fought for. He stood on their shoulders. General Powell's legacy is also a reminder that even though our country's battle over the issue of race is ongoing, there are shimmering threads of hope, cross-racial goodwill, community and opportunity that can shape a personal destiny, even under the most improbable of circumstances. More importantly, his life reminds us that race should never matter more than personal excellence, honor and duty.

This essay is dedicated to Cedric Jerome Rogers, who served in our armed forces following the the footsteps of his father and left us way too soon. Rest in peace, young man.