A top Washington journalist recounts the dramatic political battle to pass the Civil Rights Act of 1964, the law that created modern America, on the fiftieth anniversary of its passage
It was a turbulent time in America—a time of sit-ins, freedom rides, a March on Washington and a governor standing in the schoolhouse door—when John F. Kennedy sent Congress a bill to bar racial discrimination in employment, education, and public accommodations. Countless civil rights measures had died on Capitol Hill in the past. But this one was different because, as one influential senator put it, it was “an idea whose time has come.”
In a powerful narrative layered with revealing detail, Todd S. Purdum tells the story of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, recreating the legislative maneuvering and the larger-than-life characters who made its passage possible. From the Kennedy brothers to Lyndon Johnson, from Martin Luther King Jr. to Hubert Humphrey and Everett Dirksen, Purdum shows how these all-too-human figures managed, in just over a year, to create a bill that prompted the longest filibuster in the history of the U.S. Senate yet was ultimately adopted with overwhelming bipartisan support. He evokes the high purpose and low dealings that marked the creation of this monumental law, drawing on extensive archival research and dozens of new interviews that bring to life this signal achievement in American history.
Often hailed as the most important law of the past century, the Civil Rights Act stands as a lesson for our own troubled times about what is possible when patience, bipartisanship, and decency rule the day.
When it came to civil rights, 1963 America was paralyzed. The Supreme Court had outlawed segregation in public schools in 1954, but in much of the country, segregation was still the norm. In the South, just twelve thousand of the three million black students attended integrated schools. Martin Luther King’s 1955 boycott to desegregate public buses in Montgomery, Alabama, had succeeded (thanks to a parallel lawsuit financed by the NAACP), but his subsequent direct action campaigns – including a long desegregation crusade in Albany, Georgia, in 1961 and 1962 – had failed. Although Richard Russell, the Senate’s most ardent defender of segregation, gloomily concluded the newly elected president would advocate civil rights legislation, in the first two years of the Kennedy administration no such advocacy was forthcoming. Instead, John F. Kennedy "temporized at every turn." The truth was that he believed strong civil rights legislation would be difficult, if not impossible, to pass, and could jeopardize his reelection. While he did enjoy two-to-one Democratic advantage in the Senate, eighteen of those Senate Democrats were staunch segregationists, which meant that the President’s party could not muster a simple majority for civil rights legislation, nothing to say of the two-thirds vote that would be needed under the Senate’s rules to force a vote on any bill. Thus, no civil rights bill could pass without Republican support, and while many Republicans liked to think of themselves as civil rights supporters, many also believed compulsory integration would entail undesirable government encroachment on private property rights. This is why "President Kennedy saw civil rights legislation as an ideal to aspire to – perhaps in a second term – and not a hill to die on," explains Todd S. Purdum.
Nevertheless, in the two years since 1961, Kennedy travelled a long, hard road on civil rights. The crises of the Freedom Rides and Ole Miss had their impact on him. When Governor George C. Wallace sought unsuccessfully to block the integration of the University of Alabama, Kennedy made a nationally televised speech, at last pledging his administration’s support for the kind of comprehensive civil rights bill that Martin Luther King, Jr. and others had been demanding for years. Three months later, after the murder of four little girls in a bombing at the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, JFK showed renewed resolve to see the bill enacted. The next month, on October 29, the civil rights bill passed the House Judiciary Committee, but in November 1963, on the day the cruel and shocking act in Dallas, Texas, happened, the bill already lay bottled up in the House Rules Committee, whose chairman, Howard W. Smith of Virginia, an ardent segregationist, had announced his intention to keep it there indefinitely. King feared that now "the world would never get to see what history might have had in store had Kennedy lived."
As a southerner who had accommodated himself to segregation through most of his career, the new president seemed like an unreliable advocate for a civil rights bill. But in reality, LBJ knew exactly what he wanted to do about civil rights. From the moment he assumed the presidency, his goal became to drive his assassinated predecessor's bill through Congress with no major compromises that would weaken it. He had several reasons for wanting to make good on civil rights. First, he felt that passing Kennedy's bill would help to at least partially heal the wound opened by the assassination. Roy Wilkins, one of the civil rights leaders who had met with LBJ at the time, remembered that the tragedy of JFK's death hung over the civil rights bill and influenced Johnson's view of it. "And it was on this note that he [Johnson] felt the federal government had to take a stand to halt this schism between people – violence, bloodshed and that sort of thing." Second, to the President, the moral issue, the matter of fairness, was just as important. According to his biographer Robert Dallek, "Johnson – the prominent politician, the great Majority Leader, the Vice President, the all-powerful President – was at the same time Johnson the underdog, the poor boy from Texas struggling to emerge from the shadows and win universal approval." He identified with and deeply experienced the suffering of the disadvantaged. Third, Johnson saw personal political gain from pressing ahead with civil rights legislation. While in the fall of 1963, 50 percent of the country had felt that Kennedy was pushing too hard for integration, by the last week of April, 1964, 57 percent of the public said they approved of the way Johnson was handling the civil rights problem and just 21 percent disapproved. This was welcome news to LBJ, who believed his election to the presidency depended in significant part on his firm advocacy of a civil rights law.
As Purdum shows in his book, LBJ decided to follow the same legislative strategy as Kennedy's, first focusing on getting the bill through the House. On November 25, Johnson told the country's governors that he expected bipartisan approval of the bill in the House. "The real problem will be in the Senate," he advised congressional leaders. When Howard Smith tried to delay matters as long as possible, Johnson put pressure on him by launching a campaign for a petition that would bypass Smith's committee. Eventually, on January 30, after the President promised to withdraw his petition, the Rules Committee approved the bill by an 11-to-4 vote. Then, Johnson carefully considered his role in trying to win Senate approval. While he realized that "[The President] . . . must be the combat general in the front lines . . . ," he also understood that it would be a bad idea to become too involved in the "day-to-day tactics" on the Hill because senators would resent it as an inappropriate Executive intrusion on their legislative function. Instead, he decided to use the prestige of his office to advance the cause of civil rights. In June of 1964, after three young men, two northern whites and a southern black, disappeared in Mississippi, the President accepted a request from the parents for a meeting and turned the occasion to effective account, using the meeting to suggest that the full majesty of the government was behind the search for these young men and equal treatment under the law a civil rights bill would assure. He did not confine his efforts only to public statements and symbolic gestures, though. He continually gave direction and energy to the Senate battle for a bill. In January, he told Roy Wilkins "to get on this bill" and "get twenty-five Republican votes for cloture." "You're gonna have to persuade [Minority Leader Everett] Dirksen why this is in the interest of the Republican party," LBJ said. (Dirksen was important because he successfully soothed the feelings of congressmen, "moved projects through the bureaucratic web," and "functioned as President Johnson's ambassador in telling important people things they did not want to hear.")
On June 10, after seventy-five days of debate, the Senate took a cloture vote. Having predicted that the bill would get sixty-nine votes at most, Vice President Hubert Humphrey was astonished when he saw the final tally of 71 to 29. He "involuntarily" raised his arms over his head at what he saw as the culmination of a lifetime in politics fighting for equal rights. President Johnson took great satisfaction from this historic victory. When he asked legislative aide Lee White whether they should have a major signing ceremony or do it quietly, White replied that it was so monumental, the equivalent to signing an Emancipation Proclamation, and ought to have all the possible attention LBJ could focus on it. So, on the evening of July 2, in a simple ceremony in the East Room of the White House attended by government officials, foreign diplomats, and black and white civil rights activists, Johnson signed the bill before a national television audience. "We believe all men are entitled to the blessings of liberty," he said. "Yet millions are being deprived of those blessings – not because of their own failures, but because of the color of their skin. The reasons are deeply imbedded in history and tradition and the nature of man. We can understand – without rancor or hatred – how this happened, but it cannot continue. . . . Our Constitution, the foundation of our Republic, forbids it. The principles of our freedom forbid it. Morality forbids it. And the law I will sign tonight forbids it."
Because the civil rights bill was an act of Congress rather than "judge or court made law," the South accepted the outcome with little trouble. By the 1980s, access to public facilities across the South for black Americans was so commonly accepted that youngsters born in the 1970s could not even imagine the segregated society of pre-1964.
Ok, this is my second favorite book of the year thus far. It should be required reading for EVERY American Citizen!
The year 1963 was a seismic one for America. From the racial imbroglios of Birmingham and the attempted discrimination at the University of Alabama to the death of our beloved president in Dallas, America was nothing if not a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode. To attempt to combat the hatred brewing in the country President Kennedy decided to finally send a Civil Rights bill to the Congress to pass into law. Of course, this was easier said than done. The Legislative Branch of the government was then (as was most of the southern portion of the country) nothing but a hotbed of secessionist-minded thinking men. Just the fact that JFK thought to create the bill is stunning in itself. On the night of June 10, 1963 JFK gave a televised address to the nation to explain the reasons behind his decision. Calling Civil Rights at its heart 'a moral issue that is as old as the scriptures' he gave one of the most important speeches of his entire presidency.
For years historians like myself have wondered just why this decision took so long. Both JFK and his brother Robert were anything but fully supportive of the plight of the African American citizen. Token gestures and small steps forward were the maxim of the day where the Kennedy brothers were involved. Frightened that there would be some kind of a conflagration if they pushed too hard President Kennedy urged the black community (and their leader Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.) to use caution and advance slowly forward towards full and clear equality. Tired of waiting and through being patient the Movement created one of the seminal events in American History: the 1963 March on Washington for Jobs and Equality.
Even with this impetus, the Civil Rights Bill languished in the Legislature. Upon his death that November it still sat there. It took a both a new administration and a new president to undo the gridlock and forge ahead. Lyndon Johnson was many things if not a successful legislator and negotiator. This isn't to say that JFK and RFK weren't of the same mold, it's just that I believe that for as much as they hoped for a successful passage of the bill they just didn't have the same gravitas and fortitude that LBJ possessed.
This is Lyndon Johnson at his very best, before the building of the Great Society and the escalation of the conflict of Vietnam which would serve to define, derail and destroy his entire Presidency. This is Lyndon Johnson in the spring of 1964 when it truly did seem perhaps that everything and anything was indescribably possible. LBJ had always stated to everyone that he knew exactly where power lay and he knew certainly how to use/wield it. With the creation and eventual passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, not only did Lyndon Johnson end up proving himself but he created an talisman of justice and equality for all Americans that exists to this day.
An Idea Whose Time Has Come: Two Presidents, Two Parties, and the Battle for the Civil Rights Act of 1964 by Todd Purdum. Reading like an extended episode of West Wing, the book follows the tortuous route through which a bill must go: procedures that must be adhered to, hurdles to overcome, as well as the stalling techniques practiced by those opposed to its passage. Frankly, while reading the book, I wondered if John Kennedy would have had the political chops to get the Bill passed. Kennedy’s early death rendered the responsibility of this important legislation to Lyndon Johnson who (for all his faults) knew the ways, byways, snares and shortcuts of both the House and Senate. LBJ knew how, when and who to push, plead, threaten and woo. And, oh, the characters whom he had to deal with in this drama! The cast is rich from Hubert Humphrey (the Happy Warrior of Minnesota, who, after strenuously arguing in the Senate, would complement his opponent and share a drink) to Howard Smith (the gentlemanly, but stern, segregationist from Virginia) to John Lindsay (a liberal Republican -- which sounds like an oxymoron today) among many others. But my favorite character was Everett Dirksen from Illinois, he of the tousled white hair and deep silken voice (he even had a best-selling album of patriotic poems). Dirksen’s Senate office was fully stocked; it was called the Twilight Bar and had a wall clock which always displayed that it was 5:00 p.m. However, in that office many deals were struck insuring there was a higher percentage of Republicans supporting the Civil Rights Act than Democrats. (What would we give for such a Republican today!) Some critics found the book bogged down by the minutiae of individual characters, but I enjoyed those details and thought they added a lot of color. I also felt that the author surrounded the in-house political battle with contemporary events and commentary that added perspective to how the country as a whole experienced this landmark legislation. A great read which documents the events leading up to the law’s signing that happened exactly fifty years ago this June.
The story behind the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 is a fascinating read of both history and politics. Todd S. Purdum writes a comprehensive account of the forces, both social and political, leading up to the writing of the bill and legislative battle to enact it. Within the account are men and women, whites and blacks, elected officials and lobbyists, proponents and opponents, and most importantly both Democrats and Republicans.
The book is divided into three sections: The Administration, The House, and The Senate. Purdum recounts how first the Kennedy administration and later Johnson used the influence of the White House to introduce then campaign for the bill to the American people, while others within the executive branch began the process of working with both houses of Congress. When the focus shifts to Capitol Hill, Purdum introduces the major political figures that helped shape, defend, and oppose passage of the bill along with numerous aides and lobbyists who worked behind the scenes to get things accomplished. While Johnson is given credit for pushing through the Civil Rights Act, Purdum shows that the real work was done by an unsung bipartisan group of leaders with both houses who fought for their convictions.
“An Idea Whose Time Has Come” is an in-depth, engaging account of how Jim Crow was pushed aside to create the United States of the 21st Century. Purdum does not let the contributions of anyone be missed and lets the reader know how important the individual was in the early 60s. I enthusiastically recommend this book to any student of history and politics.
First off, I received this book through Goodreads First Reads. Overall, this was an interesting, well-researched read. I didn't think that a book about a single piece of legislation would be as intriguing as this was, but Purdum's focus on each person kept a measured flow to the story. As I mainly prefer 19th Century American history, there wasn't a lot I previously knew about this subject, but the factual context was well-provided and made most of the read easy to grasp on to. The only faults in the book mainly come about because it is a piece written about a single law: the minutiae of how Congress works, how the legislature had to have been written, how the intricacies of the stipulations and requirements of the Senate bogged down certain parts. The details of the actual bill itself didn't hold up to how interesting the politics among the key players actually was.
An idea Whose Time has Come covers the time period between the election of President Kennedy and the immediate aftermath of the Civil Rights Act of 1964. The book by Todd Purdum expertly and concisely assesses the various threats that faced the passage of the Civil Rights act and looks at them from the perspective of the Presidents (JFK and LBJ) to Congress to the Civil Rights leaders. From the impeccable foes such as Southern Governors to J. Edgar Hoover the trails and tribulations of the bill are covered. Much of the great legislative strategizing the LBJ is best known for is on display in this book as well as the power brokers of Congress at the time. The tumultuous relationships between Civil Rights leaders and the various law enforcement agencies is also well covered. Overall the book is fast paced and does an excellent job of broadly covering the topic while still giving a lot of information without becoming bogged down in details. Well worth the read for those interested in the history of civil rights or major legislative battles of the Congress.
This was an interesting and very clear account of the legislative machinations that led to the passage of the Civil Rights Act. Purdum did a particularly excellent job in capturing the broad range of legislative personalities - far beyond Lyndon Johnson - who were instrumental in the fight over the bill, and the brief biographical vignettes he provides of many of these individuals were thoroughly enjoyable. That being said, in some ways the account of the climatic battle seemed somewhat lacking in drama, and in detail. He paints a picture of slow momentum toward an inevitable conclusion, but gives relatively short shrift to the many individual episodes that built up that momentum - the type of episodes discussed in very enjoyable detail, albeit in a very Johnson-centered way, in Robert Caro's biographical volume. In some ways, I feel that he makes the battle for the civil rights bill seem easier than it truly was.
This is a very complete look at the internal machinations that went on to get the Civil Rights Bill passed. If you are looking for a quick read, this is not it because it's hard to follow the names of almost 400 congressmen and their stance on different issues. But it is a very important chronicle of an important piece of legislation and I was struck by how similar some of the arguments made are to those now made for and against gay rights. A good read for a history buff.
As good as this book is, if you are going to read just one book about the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, I would recommend "Bill of the Century" by Clay Risen over this one. "Bill of the Century" is more substantive and focuses more on the people who deserve the credit for passing the bill such as Bill McCullough, the Republican from Ohio who pushed it through the House Rules Committee, Tom Kuchel, the liberal Republican from California who helped push Dirksen, Nicholas Katzenbach, the asst attorney general who helped usher through changes and compromises Clarence Mitchell, the NAACP lobbyist, the number of church lobbyists and others. In this book, Purdum focuses more on the famous actors, underscored by the subtitle's reference to the two Presidents, Kennedy and Johnson, who as shown in "Bill of the Century" were not key players in the bill's passage
This is still a good book about a compelling and important topic, I'm glad I read it. It includes fascinating anecdotes such as after Republican Leader Charles Halleck supplied enough Republican votes to pass the bill in the House, he found an umbrella on his House seat, the conservative's way of saying he surrendered to Democrats and civil rights bills and Everett Dirksen catching a bad cold forcing him to be absent during days of the crucial filibuster allowing the start of the unraveling of GOP support in the Senate which was somewhat stopped upon his return. "Bill of the Century" is a more substantive history(but still just as well written with just as much suspense) while Purdum's book reflects more of the depth you would would expect from a newspaper reporter(which Purdum is)
When one thinks of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, they may think immediately of the giants of history: Martin Luther King Jr., The Kennedy Brothers, and Lyndon Johnson among others. Todd Purdum in his book “An Idea Whose Time Has Come” accomplishes something really interesting because he is able to give these grand historical figures their due, but also profiles several lesser known figures in the Halls of Congress during this period who fought for and against the Civil Rights Act of 1964.
The number of colorful personalities covered in this book are far too exhaustive to list here. But he draws the key Senate Leaders and House Members in distinctive detail, including the counter-pressures that they faced from constituencies at home for their support of civil rights. Throughout the book, it feels as though the reader is on Capitol Hill itself inside the offices of Lyndon Johnson or the Halls of Congress listening to the debate between the anti-segregationists and their segregationists. Purdum made me feel the tension and desperation of these debates down to my bones.
A powerful look back at a tumultuous time in American history with a lesson in compromise that todays political leaders could learn from.
As a conservative Republican, I was delighted to read about the Civil Rights Act, as I was well aware that the historic civil rights legislation would have been dead without conservative Titan Bill McCulloch of Ohio (which both the author and Jacqueline Kennedy acknowledge). The books was great until the last twenty or so pages. It started an interesting history of the passage of the law, but then degenerated into petty left-wing talking points. For example, as evidence that the South is eternally intent on subjugating minorities, he laughably asserts that voter identification is one such manifestation (PoltiFact rated as true Jason Riley's observation that "Black voter turnout in 2012 exceeded the rate of white voter turnout, even in the states with the strictest voter ID laws.") Also, the author casually, and infuriatingly, asserts at the very end (instead of the beginning) of the book that racial oppression has been now championed by-wait for it-the Tea Party (but declines to provide evidence), thus committing the elementary logical fallacy of hasty generalization. I'm disappointed that the author rejected the bipartisan spirit that embodied 1964 and chose to dive off the deep end at the end of his book. Recommended, but don't even bother with the last twenty or so pages.
A useful overview of the legislative process in getting the 1964 Civil Rights Act passed. It's important to keep in mind, and the author notes this, that so much more was done to get the bill TO Congress - so many people were killed and hurt, and so many others marched and worked so hard before the US government considered taking on this issue. But it's also important to recognize how much work goes into getting bills through Congress. In fact, most important bills don't make it through. But this one did, and the story is interesting. Most amazing, considering our increasingly polarized country, was how Democrats and Republicans, conservatives and liberals worked together to get this thing passed. The stories involved of people like LBJ, Everett Dirksen, Hubert Humphrey, and so many others, were all interesting. Ultimately, the legislative process is confusing, and that reality comes through in this book.
To commemorate the 50th anniversity of the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, Todd Purdum tells the story of the Congressional maneuvering that resulted in the bill's passage. In just over a year, individuals such as Everett Dirkson, Hubert Humphrey, Robert Kennedy, Edward Kennedy, and Lyndon Johnson hammered out a compromise over the act that led to the longest filibuster in the Senate's turbulent history and was finally adopted with bipartisan support. An interesting, informative, and highly readable book.
In its published form, the rules and procedures of Congress--rendered as the Senate Manual and the House Rules and Manual--are voluminous, each coming in at just under 1500 pages.* On its surface, this fact might be explained away by the relative size and responsibilities of the legislative branch, which, after all, must oversee the world's largest military, largest economy, and third largest population. In truth, however, these 3,000 collective pages are a labyrinthine, almost unreadable series of motions, requirements, guidelines, steps, and exceptions that reduce what is supposed to be a model of democratic governance to something akin to a Kafkaesque bureaucracy, in which the legislature's own rules prevent it from fulfilling its sole responsibility: to do the most good for the greatest number of its people. In the right hands, these rules are a tool to accomplish just that goal; in the wrong hands, however, they become a weapon against justice, equality, and the very freedoms embodied in our Constitution. And nowhere in our nation's history is this disparity more clearly seen than the fight for civil rights, which began during the presidency of John F. Kennedy and ended--if it ever truly did end--with Lyndon Johnson.
Congress of the 1960s was an institution in turmoil, its members--almost all of them white men--embodying the complicated feelings of their constituents and, in essence, the country as a whole. There were those from the Deep South, where segregation and bigotry were fully ingrained, who defined any attempts at correcting the deep inequality between white and black as, ironically enough, government intrusion and oppression. There were those in the North who spoke of compassion and humanity, much to the chagrin of their colleagues from below the Mason-Dixon, but who often flinched when the time came to translate their attitudes into action; after all, words were cheap and forgettable, but votes were preserved in record, and anyone aspiring to higher office back then often needed the votes of the South--and the support of their representatives--to gain that office. There were those who were confused and unsure if they should err on the side of tradition or take steps towards change. The country was in the midst of social upheaval; the news was dominated by stories of peaceful protests, illegal arrests, violent counter-attacks, bombings, and riots, and it seemed as though any change, however warranted, would be little more than another fuel-soaked piece of timber on the fire.
Regardless, the forces pushing for civil rights had the majority--slight to be sure, but nonetheless mathematically sound. Unfortunately, they did not have the rules and procedures on their side. Instead, the minority pushing back against change was led by a series of men who, for better or worse, used the rules to their advantage, and a massive bill that should've taken weeks to reach a vote and achieve passage instead took more than a year, during which time one president was assassinated, another assumed office, hundreds of subversive amendments were proposed, and millions of Americans continued to live as second-class citizens, the victims of a prejudicial society that stood defiant and strong in the face of impending change. As was the case in decades past, and as it has been in the years since, Congress once again found itself two steps behind the march of progress, and had it not been for a small cadre of elected officials--a bipartisan group of politicians, many of whom put their own political careers on the line to fight for civil rights--there may never have been a bill at all, at least nothing compared to the wide-ranging act that even today is a landmark in American history.
Which is the true story behind the Civil Rights Act of 1964. As years passed and focus shifted to the roles played by Lyndon B. Johnson, Robert Kennedy, and Martin Luther King, Jr., those who labored behind the scenes--sometimes to the point of illness and exhaustion--largely vanished from the textbook history of civil rights, which is a travesty. Because, in order to understand how change happens, we must understand the men and women who make those changes. While civil rights activists braved fire-hoses, dogs, and gunfire to push for equality in their own hometowns, block by dangerous city block, senators and congressmen worked through the grinding machinations of their own government...a strange, almost surreal instance of opposites--white and black, powerful and powerless, the one and the many, the elected and the appointed, the establishment and the grassroots--battling the very same institutional roadblocks, often put in place by the very same people, albeit in widely different forms. The latter fought these roadblocks with their words and their feet and their ideas, often for no recognition and at the end of a gun, while the former fought them with motions and procedures, threatened by little more than a gavel and the op-ed pages of their hometown newspapers. And yet without one there could not have been the other, each pressing forward towards victory.
While Martin Luther King Jr. rallied his supporters and met with elected officials, Congressman Charles Halleck of Indiana worked to keep his Republican colleagues assembled behind the bill, which often threatened to shake Congress apart. Halleck did this even as the people of his district, which was almost entirely white, expressed displeasure with the entire bill, often in racist terms. Within five years of the bill becoming law, Martin Luther King would be dead, the victim of an assassination, and Halleck would retired from office after being summarily removed from his leadership position by the very same colleagues who once stood behind him. Around the same time, Halleck's counterpart in the Senate, Everett Dirksen of Illinois, died of poor health; having pushed himself to the point of exhausting trying to crate a bill that could pass the Senate without obstruction or fillibuster, he was able to garner even more support without sacrificing the bill's strength--a noble and almost impossible feat for even the most seasoned politician. (Fifty years later, the senator occupying Dirksen's seat--Barack Obama, an African-American--would be elected president, personifying the very clear moral purpose of the Civil Rights Act.) There were others, of course--William McCulloch, the soft-spoken Ohioan whose demand for a solid, unaltered bill ensured that its most necessary parts would not be "bargained away," is perhaps the great unsung hero of civil rights--and together they stand as a choir of unassuming and forgotten voices that rose above the chaos to lead the nation, just as they were elected to do.
Most if not all of the congressional rules used in the 1960s remain to this day. And today, much like the era of Kennedy and Johnson, our country faces a growing divide between what we believe and what our laws say we believe. A clear majority of Americans believe in same-sex marriage; Congress, however, remains two steps behind. The Supreme Court gutted important sections of the Civil Rights Act in 2013, making it easier for state governments to keep segments of the population from voting, having fair representation, or living free of discrimination. Americans agree wholeheartedly in the rights protected by the 50-year-old legislation and want those protections maintained; Congress remains two steps behind. Americans believe women should be paid the same as men for the same work, but Congress remains two steps behind. Americans believe in funding early education, supporting the social safety net, providing easy and fair steps towards immigrant naturalization, guaranteeing some form of health care to the sick and poor...and in every instance, Congress remains two steps behind. The rules are the same, and the men and women who wield them speak much like their predecessors did a half-century ago, but the true heroes--those who will stand with the oppressed and fight for progress, regardless of how it will affect their careers, their reputations--are surprisingly hard to find. Perhaps they wish to fade into history like the men of 1964, unrecognized but effective. Or perhaps, unlike those long-overlooked men, they have seen the crusade marching ahead of them and decided that making up those two steps is not worth the effort.
*The Senate Manual can be downloaded here, and the manual for the House--which is officially titled Constitution, Jefferson's Manual, and Rules of the House of Representatives--can be downloaded here.
Book Review: An Idea Whose Time Has Come: Two Presidents, Two Parties, and the Battle for the Civil Rights Act of 1964 by Todd S. Purdum
In An Idea Whose Time Has Come, Todd S. Purdum delivers a compelling and insightful narrative about the tumultuous political landscape surrounding the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Drawing on extensive research and interviews, Purdum recounts the gripping story of how this landmark legislation came to fruition amidst fierce opposition and intense societal change in America.
A Deep Dive into Historical Context
Purdum masterfully sets the stage by exploring the social and political climate of the early 1960s, a time marked by civil rights protests, sit-ins, and the resonant voices of leaders like Martin Luther King Jr. He deftly illustrates the frustrations of African Americans faced with systemic discrimination and the urgent call for legislative change. By providing historical context, Purdum enables readers to grasp the magnitude of the challenges that lay ahead for those advocating for civil rights.
The Dual Presidency Perspective
One of the book’s unique strengths is its dual focus on Presidents John F. Kennedy and Lyndon B. Johnson. Purdum examines how each leader approached the civil rights issue, highlighting their differing philosophies and strategies. Kennedy’s initial hesitance and Johnson’s eventual commitment to pushing the bill through Congress reflect the shifting priorities within the Democratic Party. Purdum’s detailed portrayal of their political maneuvers gives readers an understanding of the complex dynamics at play and the pressures each president faced from both supporters and detractors.
The Role of Bipartisanship and Opposition
Purdum does not shy away from discussing the formidable opposition that the Civil Rights Act encountered, including resistance from Southern Democrats and other conservative factions. He emphasizes the crucial role of bipartisan support in overcoming these hurdles, showcasing how unlikely alliances were formed to champion the cause of civil rights. This aspect of the narrative serves as a powerful reminder of the collaborative efforts sometimes required to achieve monumental social progress.
Richly Researched and Engagingly Written
With a journalist’s eye for detail and a storyteller’s flair, Purdum weaves a narrative that is as informative as it is engaging. He brings to life the personal stories of key figures involved in the civil rights movement, giving readers a sense of the stakes involved. His clear, accessible writing style makes complex political maneuvers understandable, allowing readers to follow the intricate path of the legislation from conception to enactment.
Conclusion: A Timely Reflection
An Idea Whose Time Has Come serves not only as a historical account but also as a timely reflection on the ongoing struggle for civil rights in America. Purdum’s exploration of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 resonates deeply in today’s political climate, reminding us of the importance of advocacy, perseverance, and unity in the face of adversity. This book is essential reading for anyone interested in understanding the roots of civil rights in the United States and the enduring impact of this legislation on contemporary society.
Whether you are a student of history, a civil rights enthusiast, or simply someone seeking to understand the foundations of modern America, Purdum’s work provides an enlightening and thought-provoking journey through a pivotal moment in our nation’s history. Highly recommended.
Most probably read this book for a solid narrative history of civil rights in the early 1960s, culminating in Congress’s greatest achievement, the enactment of the Civil Rights Act of 1964. But for this reader, the book really hits its stride where it describes with exacting detail the legislative history of the bill that became the storied law. Think Schoolhouse Rock’s “I’m Just a Bill,” but on steroids.
The passage of H.R. 7251 has everything. It starts with strong executive leadership setting the civil rights agenda. JFK began unwilling to take the political risk on civil rights, but racial strife in Birmingham and elsewhere push him from ambivalence to supporting a bill. His administration proposes a bill weeks before his death. When LBJ becomes president, he immediately understood the political imperative for his reelection to enact a civil rights bill given his role in eliminating the teeth from the Civil Rights Act of 1957. He uses the memory of the late president to make the moral case for action on civil rights.
But after setting the vision, LBJ recognizes that he cannot micromanage the process because the key votes belong to conservative Republicans. Northern liberals from both parties had long supported civil rights, but there were not enough liberals to break a filibuster. So, to LBJ’s great personal consternation as a former Senate floor leader, his role is limited to making the public case for civil rights, consulting with legislative leaders (and griping about the slow pace of the bill), and making a few side deals with Senators to aid in obtaining their yes vote on cloture.
Consequently, the principal protagonists of this book are stalwart midwestern Republicans like William McCulloch and Everett Dirksen, whose votes and leadership were needed to overcome the near universal opposition of the Solid Democratic South. While they were well within the civil rights tradition of the GOP going back to Lincoln, their hesitancy to interfere with private business made it difficult to prohibit discrimination in public accommodations. McCulloch and Dirksen’s fingerprints are all over this bill to finesse that internal conservative conflict. Thus, 80% of Congressional Republicans voted for the Civil Rights Act of 1964—the secret sauce to enacting a sweeping civil rights legislation.
I could obsess all day about the legislative process: you have angry interest groups and true believers who support civil rights and despise any efforts compromise; you have an entrenched remnant who have exploited the rules to kill or water down meaningful civil rights reform since Reconstruction; you have innumerable amendments, both friendly and hostile, in the House Judiciary Committee and on the floor of both houses; you have the strong committee system where seniority rules the day and a chairman’s power of agenda control is nearly total; you have a discharge petition and other rare processes to circumvent obstructionist chairmen; you have obstreperous debate with speeches that go on for hours; you have intemperate outbursts on the floor (sometimes lubricated with alcohol); and in the end you have “an idea whose time has come” to be the law after several weeks of occupying nearly all of the Congress’s attention.
In all, this a great history of the era, but an even better primer for legislative process.
This account of the most significant act of Congress is a page-turning tour-de-force conveying the atmosphere of the times, the personalities, and the multitude of challenges for enacting the 1964 Civil Rights Act. It is also a study in the 'messy business' of Congress, namely the unfathomable layers of rules and procedures involved in passing legislation, especially in laws that are consequential. Even as there was overwhelming popular support and support among members of Congress to address racial inequality, the feature of the government most on display in this saga is painfully slow deliberation. While the importance of the Civil Rights Act may be a driving force for the book, the author deserves praise in providing the reader an exciting and even thrilling account. I had several moments of emotion during the read, and I expect most would agree with me in this high praise.
This was a fascinating look into the complicated passing of one of the most important pieces of legislation in history. Purdam detailed the entire year long process, and the decades of history leading up to it, with a narrative story structure, noting specific conversations with key players and the internal discourse many of them faced. Overall a very in-depth look at this period of history and a deep dive into the intricacies of the congressional process when it comes to passing monumental legislation.
This book is an history of the passage of the civil rights act. The maneuvering, the cajoling, the promises made, and legislative tactics used. But it lacks the depth of understanding of the principal characters that The Walls of Jericho has. That being said, it is a better work of history for focusing on the work of the Kennedy administration and the House of Representatives-- before diving into the senate in the third part of the book. I recommend reading both books.
Learned a great deal about the legislative process and how street protests and violent segregationalist backlash in the South played into the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Back then, the Democrats and Republicans, within their ranks, had much more ideological diversity. Also learned a great deal about President Kennedy and LBJ, in particular the latter's strengths on working the Hill.
The best place to read about the most important legislative act of the 20th century remains Robert Caro's LBJ biography Passage to Power, but Purdum adds some detail, especially on the dynamics within the Republic Party and has a good sense of the broader contexts. Likely to remain the best one volume study.
Solid overview of the Voting Rights Act. Found that it was a bit hand wavy in describing how decisions were ultimately made. The character studies also broke up the plot.
Purdum gives us a terrific account of the many forces pushing for and against the landmark legislation that became the Civil Rights Act of 1964. This is an impressive look into the back rooms.
I received an advanced reading copy of this from the publisher via Goodreads' First-reads giveaway program.
"An Idea Whose Time Has Come" relates the convoluted steps leading to the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, starting with the championship and oversight of the bill's design by the executive branch (namely the Kennedy brothers) and its subsequent evolution through passage in the House and Senate. This political development, rather 'dry' in itself, is of course set amid the turbulent social upheavals of the era and that event that both helped propel this 'project' forward and led to new difficulties in its realization, namely the Kennedy assassination and the new leadership of Southerner Johnson.
Purdum does a fine job relating the details of the Act's development and ultimate passage, and after reading about the many failed party compromises of recent years it is interesting to read about one instance where something substantial was achieved. Unlike recent issues, however, this Act had split support and opposition from wings of both Republican and Democratic parties, and thankfully the extreme wings of each party that fought against this Act were each in the minority, unlike today.
The majority of focus in the book is on the executive branch, pervading each step leading to the final passage, and as such the people involved in the legislative branch on either side get relatively less attention. Already less familiar with these people, greater biographical detail on these players and their pasts would have been nice.
While the book does an excellent and fair job of relating the history involved, it spends very little space on any type of analysis. Largely this seems to avoid any kind of bias or opinion, as opposed to just stating the facts or reporting the recorded opinions of those involved in the process at the time. This is not a fault, but if you are looking for something beyond a simple history of passage this may not be of interest. But if you are largely unfamiliar with the details of this period of history, Purdum's work serves as an excellent primer and education, offering glimpses not just into politics, but the social situation of the United States in the early 60's and the racial injustices so many citizens endured and fought to overcome.
Full Disclosure - I received this book as a First Reads Giveaway.
When I started this book, I first thought that it was too detailed. But it needed this detail to enable the reader to understand all of the efforts and machinations to get the Civil Rights Act through congress - and in a form that had meaningful effect. The insight into the many players and the process involved was fascinating. But this was not just a book about the process for getting the Act passed, it was a look into the complex nature of getting a major piece of legislation passed - all of the legislative maneuvering and tradeoffs that it took enables a real appreciation for (and much better understanding of) the process. The restraint exercised by many, including the President and a lot of the civil rights leadership, was a delicate balance of and exercise of self-discipline.
The insight into the myriad of people involved and their interrelationships was highly interesting. Mr. Purdum provided some basic background on the major players that helped to better understand their roles and their interactions with others. It was enlightening to see civility in places where it was not expected and to see the lack of it where it would have been expected. It was great that he showed how much was done by such unsung heroes as Congressman McCullough.
This was a behind-the-scenes look into the workings of Congress and the many nuances involved in their inner workings. The process has many more paths and traps than I would have ever imagined.
Anyone who thinks Congress and legislation is simple should read this book. Anyone who wants a better understanding of the social attitudes prevalent in the late 50's and early 60's should read this book. Anyone wanting to better understand the Civil Rights Movement should read this book.
I received a free advanced reader’s copy through GoodReads.
The book covers the complicated history of the Civil Rights Act, from the plans of the legislative branch through the debates in the House and Senate. Purdum works well with a wide cast of actors, drawing their character and their history to give context to their political and social views. He’s at his best when he focuses on a principle actor, such as Robert F. Kennedy, Ev Dirkson, and LBJ, but it’s very clear that the Civil Rights Act is not the brainchild of a single person. This was definitely a group effort, with lots of opinions and conflicts.
The topic is fascinating and culturally important, particularly when you compare it to the current workings of our government. It’s amazing that anything ever gets done when so many people with such different opinions are involved.
But for all the importance of the subject, there are times that the book drags. Purdum drills down into minutiae, which is not always enlightening. I don’t need to know where a Senator when on vacation, only that he wasn’t present for a vote. Also, I wanted more analysis and less narrative description, e.g., the Senate did this on this day, and on the next day did something else. Probably Purdum does a good job describing the machinery of government, but I confess I couldn’t always follow the process.
There were a few quirks in the writing that may be corrected by the time the book is in print. Purdum occasionally referred to Martin Luther King as Martin King, and he alternated using Robert and Bobby when referring to Kennedy.
Overall, an important topic that I’m glad I got to learn more about.
This is an excellent book for many reasons. First and foremost it chronicles a heroic time in US history when various diverse elements of society, everyone from the elderly mother of the Republican governor of Massachusetts, to college students to ordinary African American activists, to senators and congressmen and two presidents of the United State, came together to smash segregation.
The book also shows the three political parties of America interacting, progressive Democrats, conservative and racist Dixiecrats.
The story of the passage of the Civil Rights bill is filled with numerous compelling characters. It is not so much a story of the presidency, although the largely ineffective efforts of Kennedy and effective gestures of LBJ are chronicled. This is a book on how legislation is crafted. It is far more the story of Senators Humphrey, Dirksen, and the villainous Russell in the senate. In the House, Charles Halleck and Howard Smith are the leading characters.
The passage of the Civil Rights bill of 1964 changed American society. Before its passage, the young Colin Powell found himself unable to buy a meal in the south, afterwards, he could without incident. It is interesting just how controversial the bill was in some quarters. No less a figure than Claire Booth Luce was positively livid at the rumor that the bill providing African Americans with some of the rights enjoyed by whites would be signed on 4 July. Some elements did not recognize what was going on, or maybe they did and the threats to privilege were more than body and soul could bear.
This is an excellent book dealing with an important era in the United States.
When I was a small boy, almost every summer my family and I would visit my grandparents in North Carolina. The first two nights on the road we slept in the our station wagon. On the third night we would reach Knoxville, TN and be able to spend the night in a Howard Johnsons. Why sleep in the car? Back then, that is what African-American families had to do. Holiday Inn and the other motels located along the Interstate Highways would not lease rooms to traveling African-Americans. In order to provide some assurance that we would not be hassled by state or local police my father, an officer in the U.S. Army, wore his summer uniform.
Fifty years ago this summer LBJ signed into law the 1964 Civil Rights Act. And matters in America, matters like leasing a hotel room, changed. Todd Purdum tells the story how this radical piece of legislation came into existence after years of bitter resistance from the Southern wing of the Democratic party. The Act did not solve the issue of racism, the events of 21st century America make that obvious. But it was a major step towards ensuring the basic rights for every American. In telling this story the author portrays a different Washington DC and a far different Congress. After reading this book you will realize how far the House and Senate have fallen in the quality of the men and women who are elected to office.
Leading up to the civil rights act there were freedom rides, sit ins, mass protests and a general upswell of mass action demanding equal rights for all. My criticism of this book is that those mass actions that pressured the politicians into actually taking legislative action are just barely alluded to in passing. I suppose it was hard to completely ignore what was happening on the streets, but this book certainly does not give a lot of attention to it. Instead, it gives the impression that the civil rights act was the invention of politicians and that the fight to pass it was a fight among politicians. To read this book you would think that all gratitude should be given to politicians because the people were just passive rrecipients of the legislation.