Reclaiming the Southern Cross
My parents were born and raised in the south, before the civil rights era. They’d headed north to Indianapolis, in the mid-50’s, before anyone had heard of Rosa Parks or Thurgood Marshall. By the time 2 boys and a girl came along they’d pretty much lost the pace and the accent, taking dinner in the evening, just like the neighbors.
We visited my Dad’s Mom quite a bit. She was an old-school refined southern woman with a piano in the parlor, with pictures of dead relatives on the top. A couple of these photos were of folks in Confederate uniforms. She was well versed in and proud of her southern heritage. I remembered her being amused when I asked her, at 7 years old, who was the enemy and who was the “us” listed on the battlefield memorial near her home in Red Bank, Tennessee.
These visits south intrigued me as a young history buff. I memorized all the battles, and read biographies of the major figures and technologies used during the civil war of 1861–1865. Just like I’d done, and would later do, with all the other wars in US history.
On my walls, as a ten-year old, were 2 flags, a 13-star United States flag, and a flag that most of us would refer to as a “rebel” flag or the “stars-and-bars”.
I knew that the stars-and-bars flag was not the actual flag of the Confederate States of America, a “country” declared as a “rebellion” against the United States of America. The flag that was originally adopted by the Confederate Congress to serve as the flag of the nation looked like this- well, these:
This flag was the official CSA flag from March 4, 1861 — May 1, 1863. The different versions reflect the addition of further stars representing states rebelling and seceding: it grew from the original 7 stars to the eventual 13 stars, including the border states of Kentucky and Missouri that remained in the Union, but were strongly southern in sympathy and sent representatives to the Confederate Congress.
This flag was too easily confused with the “stars-and-stripes” of the Union Army on the very smoky and chaotic battlefields of the 1860’s. Adding to all the confusion was the lack of a standard army kit, like we’re used to, as the regiments were from the various states, carried a variety of standards and banners, and wore a bewildering array of uniforms.
In 1863, The Confederate Congress adopted the second national flag- incorporating the flag of General Robert E. Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia into a plain white field. This was the official CSA flag at the time of the Battle of Gettysburg in July 1863. Several of the flags above would have been seen flying at that battle. This design also proved troublesome- it was easily mistaken for a white flag of truce. The Congress adopted a third national flag on March 4, 1865, a version of the second flag with a red vertical bar on the tail, known as the “blood-stained” banner. For all intents and purposes no one ever saw one of these over a battlefield- the surrender at Appomattox took place in April.
So, let’s get to this flag, the one I had on my wall when I was a young teen, the one that seems to get everyone all worked up anymore:
This flag style was around in a lot of versions, and the design was included in the canton, or field, of the second and third national CSA flags. The original square battle flag was designed by General Joseph Johnston for the Army of Northern Virginia, who then designed the version above after taking command of the Army of Tennessee Volunteers following the Battle of Chickamauga. A similar design had been considered for adoption as the national flag but was not selected.
It was a rather memorable flag, easily recognized at a distance. Many regimental flags were based on it’s design. It was adopted as the final jack flown by the small Confederate Navy. Influenced heavily by the St. George’s cross of the British Union Jack, it reflected the anglophile sentiment of the region due to its long history of trade with England. The south’s cotton output was the necessary raw material for a British garment industry just entering the Industrial Age of the 1800’s, and the foundation of the southern economy.
In the decades following the war, the battle flag was increasingly displayed as a memorial to the Confederate soldiers who had fought beneath it. The “lost cause” southern perspective of the war came into vogue in the early 1900’s, with many memorials dedicated and decorated with the traditional rectangular ANV flag.
Romantic stories of life in the antebellum south and the war struck a chord among southern youth and display of mass produced rectangular versions of the battle flag became quite common. Many of these youth took those flags with them into the second world war and they were on display during that conflict. Although the rectangular version of the flag was opposed by confederate memorial groups like the United Confederate Veterans and the Daughters of the Confederacy in favor of the square ANV flag, popular sentiment preferred the rectangular flag- equal in size and perspective to the Union flag.
The flag was also widely used at southern sporting events, particularly football games. As the 20th century progressed, merchandising of this flag on apparel and tourist memorabilia and in popular culture, placed it as the public symbol of the south and it’s history.
From the reconstruction period through the 1940’s, southern sentiments had protected misappropriation of this potent southern symbol from use by radical right-wing and racist organizations. During the second resurgence of the Ku Klan Klan in the 1920’s and 1930’s, the battle flag began to be regularly displayed by racist and extremist groups due to it’s availability and cultural popularity.
Beginning with election of 1948 the flag was used as the political symbol of the segregationist Dixecrat party during the third party-presidential candidacy of Strom Thurmond. This was caused by a fight over the inclusion of a civil rights plank in that year’s Democratic Party platform. Traditional confederate groups were opposed to this use and several states passed laws against desecration of the flag to prevent it’s use by these racist groups and on commercial items.
These efforts were ineffective. By the mid-sixties, with the nation watching the civil rights struggles in the south, and the attendant terrorism of those carrying the “rebel” flag, the association of this flag with racism, violence and segregation took hold in popular culture.
The 1954 supreme court ruling in Brown v. Board of Education prohibiting segregated education polarized the racial discussion in the nation. A new generation of southern politicians utilized the issue to gain power. After Georgia incorporated the battle flag into their state flag, confederate imagery became common atop state capitols throughout the south. During this period the flag also became a commonly seen item in northern rural areas that were predominantly white where conservative racist sentiments were common.
The 1970’s through the early 21st century saw continuing discussions about the appropriateness of these displays on public property. The period saw many states taking down the flags and removing the imagery from their state’s symbols. Following a racially motivated terrorism attack at a black church in Charleston in 2015, Governor Nikki Haley ordered the rectangular ANV flag displayed near the confederate memorial removed from the grounds of the South Carolina capitol.
Following this event, a firestorm of protest and dissension played out in social media. Many supported the display of the flag as a symbol of southern heritage, although a substantial number of the protests for the flag came from white Americans in the north.
Now that we have looked at the design and usage history of the “rebel” flag that generates all the controversy with it’s changing symbolism, we should look at the meanings, and the context of its display, associated with the flag following the Civil War.
During the discussion of the choice for a second national banner, the white background of the so-called “stainless banner” was designed to reflect the “supremacy of the white race under heaven”. The battle flag, as adopted into the field of the second national flag, was referred to as “the southern cross” by elements in the Confederate government who believed it reflected the south’s manifest destiny to control and colonize south America. One of the leaders of this faction, George William Bagby, praised the battle flag as reflecting “…the destiny of the Southern master and his African slave” during the adoption debate.
At this point a brief discussion of the political causes behind the war might be helpful. The common view we are taught in our history classes is that the war was inevitable due to need to eliminate the inherent evil of the institution of slavery in our democratic nation. Abolitionists were a very passionate and vocal political minority, and their rhetoric may have been useful to recruit troops for service in the war, but the truth is complicated and nuanced. The labor intensive agrarian economy of the old south, with it’s institutional wealth and political power, and the need for capital to continue the industrialization of the north were in conflict. Issues of the role of the federal government in state affairs that were not settled during the founding of the union also played a role in the beginnings of the war.
Slaveowners were a small minority of the southern population, but controlled a huge portion of the overall wealth of the region. Their prosperity was dependent on the cheap human labor provided by slaves and therefore, their support of the southern effort was based largely on their need to continue the economics of slavery. Were they motivated, then, by racism? In the sense of our modern definition of the term, the answer is obvious, but in the context of a person raised in a centuries-old institution ordained and supported by the political and religious powers of the era it is hard to apply that term.
The average rural southerner, your typical confederate enlisted man, would have been more motivated by patriotism for his home state. Prior to the draft armies of the global wars in the 20th Century, Americans tended to self-identify less as “American” than “Virginian” or in the case of my native soil, “Hoosier”. The confederate soldier, raised to respect the institutions of the south, of lower economic status, would aspire to wealth like any other working-class American, and in the context of the southern economy of the era, wealth was represented by slave ownership. Was his motivation to take up arms a defense of racism in our modern sense? Or perhaps it was simply and understandably a defense of a way of life he was taught to consider as normal, ordained by the bible, and morally acceptable?
In the decades following reconstruction, the battle flag and other confederate imagery were displayed and revered, generally, in the context of a memorial to the fallen soldiers in the war. As the “Lost Cause” movement romanticized the traditions and culture of the old south apart from the archaic institution of slavery, these “rebel” flags became powerful symbols of the region’s history separated from their connection to slavery.
The loss of the war was followed by the industrial revolution in the cities of the north, attracting many of the children and grandchildren of the confederate soldiers to the prosperity to be had in the land of the hated “Yankees”. The postwar economic boom bypassed much of the south. Emigration to the north reduced an aging rural southern population into an endemic poverty that in many areas persists to the current era. The flag became, to the poor whites of the rural south, an icon of a bygone era of southern prosperity and economic influence that is passed generation to generation with reverence.
Given this history, and in light of modern sensibilities and current events, should we seek to discourage the private display, and prevent the “rebel” from being displayed in public venues outside of museums? Private display is doubtless considered protected expression under the first amendment. As far as public display, I’d consider an analogous situation. Is there a Union Jack flying on the grounds of the Virginia Capitol? It is, after all, a former British colony named in honor of an English queen. Flags of other nations are usually appropriate only at embassies, consulates, museums, and memorials. Add in the fact that it offends the hell out of a good number of citizens and it seems like a pretty good idea not to feature it on a state flag or other imagery that represents the people of the state.
Private display is a right, for whatever reason you choose. To celebrate your heritage, your passion for music, your love of trucks, guns, beer, to piss off the neighbors- whatever the motivation, it’s your right to display the “rebel” flag. Even if you fly it to show your dislike for other races, or foreigners that you hate.
The flag I had on my wall in my youth had no connection to racism in my mind. It was about a love for a romantic history and a link to my family’s past. I will not be flying the flag anymore, not because my feelings have changed about the romanticized picture of the old south I held in my childhood or my family heritage, but because this symbol, this flag, was hijacked by a group of people who turned it into symbol of racism and hatred. A banner that stands for violence and terrorism to a large number of Americans.
In ancient times a symbol meaning “good luck” or “prosperity” was common throughout India, the Mideast and Europe. Prior to the mid-20th century it was still used as a motif in tile patterns in Greek revival homes in the US. This hook-cross symbol is still considered sacred in the Hindu and Buddhist religions.
This same symbol, encircled in white on a red background was adopted as the symbol of Hitler’s Nazi Party in 1920, and in the span of a quarter-century had changed the global perception of this ancient symbol of good luck into the ultimate symbol of hate and horror.
It is understandable that a citizen could be offended by someone who displayed this rather memorable flag, easily recognized at a distance. It would also be the person’s right to display this as free expression of whatever they were trying to freely express. Regardless of whether it were displayed as an endorsement of abhorrent Nazi philosophy, or a sincere salute to a German heritage, made by someone ignorant in the history of the symbol.
So- my two cents worth- If you choose to display a “rebel” flag, be at least educated as to why many people will be offended by it. I will certainly support your right to do so, as an American.
But you must be fair and balanced, because free speech rights extend to everybody. So if you choose to fly a “rebel” flag, and expect people not to express their strong opinions about that flag, you also don’t get to say anything about the next time you see someone flying a “rainbow flag”, Mexican flag, or even an ISIS flag. That’s not just “politically correct”. It’s constitutionally correct.
So, for the record, If I get the urge to fly a “rebel” flag, I’ll be flying this:
More info on the “rebel” flag:
