“Reconstruction can…reasonably be characterized as the ugly duckling of American history. The twelve years that are the conventional designation of the Reconstruction period, from 1865 to 1877, teem with associations and developments that seem regrettable, if not simply baleful. They left a long legacy of bitterness, especially among Southerners who believed that they had fought an honorable war and were handed a dishonorable peace, as well as Southerners who refused to accept defeat and manufactured the myth of a glorious ‘Lost Cause’ to justify themselves…Reconstruction also coincided with an eruption of notorious levels of graft, corruption, and fraud in American civil governments – not least in the ones erected by federal forces in the former rebel states. But Reconstruction is probably best known, and least liked, as the greatest missed opportunity Americans ever had to erase the treacherous impact of slavery and race in a reconstructed and unified nation. There is, in other words, something in Reconstruction for nearly every American to regret…”
- Allen C. Guelzo, Reconstruction: A Concise History
One of my general rules of reading is to avoid books with subtitles that include the words “a short history” or “a concise history.” My reasoning is simple. If I’m going to take the time to learn a subject, I don’t want to waste it on brief summaries that flatten out complications and substitute judgment for analysis.
Obviously – no sense burying the lede – I have broken that rule in the case of Allen C. Guelzo’s Reconstruction: A Concise History. I did this for a couple reasons. First, the Reconstruction Era is a hugely important part of American history, but one that is overshadowed by the war that came before it, and by the Civil Rights Movement that came after. Second, Guelzo is one of the best Civil War historians around, and wrote my all-time favorite book on the subject (Gettysburg: The Last Invasion).
Unsurprisingly, given Guelzo’s reputation, Reconstruction is an excellent primer on a thorny topic. It is brisk, well-structured, and hits all the high notes. Early on, Guelzo presents an analytical framework for approaching Reconstruction, dividing it into four stages.
The first stage, Early Reconstruction, begins in 1862, when Abraham Lincoln began tinkering with ways to bring seceded states back into the Union. This stage ended in 1865, with the surrender of the Confederate Armies, and Lincoln’s own death (leaving us to ponder what he would have done).
From 1865 to 1867, we have Executive Reconstruction, the period in which Andrew Johnson made his bid for worst, most racist president in the history of the United States. Initially vengeful toward the South, Johnson made a startlingly quick U-turn on the issue of Reconstruction, standing by as rebellious states tried to return to the fold as though the Civil War never happened. One of the telling low points of this interim was the election of Confederate Vice President Alexander Stephens – he of the infamous Cornerstone Speech – to the United States Senate.
The third stage, Congressional Reconstruction, took place between 1867 and 1870. This is the stage that hurts the most, because it was the period when the course of the United States could have been altered, putting her on the trajectory to live up to her loftiest notions. During this hopeful span – hopeful, at least, to those who believed in basic decency – the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Amendments were ratified, blacks were elected to Congress and state legislatures in impressive numbers, and economic standards rose dramatically for the previously enslaved.
Unfortunately, beginning in 1870, we have the Overthrow of Reconstruction, which saw the Democrats kick the Republicans out of power and “redeem” the Southern states. As Guelzo notes, it is hard to pin down when this period actually ended. Some say it’s 1877, when the Democrats took over the last Republican governments in South Carolina and Louisiana. You could also say, however, that this dismantling of progress – a massive detour of that arc bending towards justice – lasted until the 1890s, when the Supreme Court in Plessy v. Ferguson gave its imprimatur to legalized segregation.
Guelzo moves through these stages efficiently and elegantly. His perceptions about Reconstruction are often quite nuanced and strongly argued. One of his major points is to reclaim Reconstruction from the Lost Causers who tarred it as an unlawful and corrupt exercise in federal authority (apparently taking the view that starting a war that kills almost a million and costs a few billion is a no-harm, no-foul sort of situation). For Guelzo, the failure of Reconstruction is not in its actual functioning, but in the fact that it ended far too soon. As he points out, there were black voter majorities in five states, and when those people were allowed to vote – there and elsewhere – blacks were able to attain positions of power. He implicitly agrees with the view of abolitionist Wendell Phillips, who believed that federal troops should have occupied the South for forty years, irrevocably changing their behavior, if not necessarily their hearts.
Eschewing the conventional wisdom that Reconstruction ended because of the exhaustion of white northerners, Guelzo lays out a variety of reasons for its ultimate demise. The most obvious is the campaign of terror waged by Southerners, in particular by ISIS-adjacent organizations such as the Ku Klux Klan and the White League. These terrorists recognized an irony in the Fifteenth Amendment, which stripped away the Three-Fifths Clause. Now, in the apportionment of Congressional delegates, every black person would be counted, giving Southerners more power in Congress. By keeping those black persons from voting, they actually gained an advantage from a constitutional amendment meant to increase equality.
Another problem came from the Republican Party itself, riven by factionalism. Some white Republicans tried to make deals with white Democrats, only to see themselves betrayed. Among blacks as well there were sharp disagreements that ultimately weakened them in the face of a monolithic foe marching in lockstep.
Guelzo also makes an interesting, often overlooked point about the role of the Supreme Court. Even though it was filled with men appointed by Lincoln and Ulysses Grant – both extremely supportive of black civil rights – the Court at this time decided it was going to reassert itself. During the Civil War, for example, Lincoln ran the war from the White House. In the aftermath of Johnson, Congress ran Reconstruction. At a certain point, the Court decided to announce its presence by a willy-nilly evisceration of the foundational elements of Reconstruction. Important civil rights laws were ruled unconstitutional, while the Fourteenth Amendment was unceremoniously castrated.
Overall, I found Guelzo’s take on Reconstruction to be fascinating, mainly because he does not seem to be advancing a single hard and fast position. Instead, he is holistic in his examination, at times bordering on the Jesuitical. To that end, Guelzo mentions that while the end of Reconstruction was a tragic abandonment of the black community, it allowed for white reconciliation. This is an ugly truth – and certainly not something that Guelzo endorses – but it did allow post-Civil War America to avoid having the Mason-Dixon Line turn into the 38th Parallel.
Because this is a “concise history,” there were many moments when I wanted more amplification. For example, Guelzo makes an offhand comment that Reconstruction – at its best – was far more successful than other post-enslavement programs in places like Russia and Brazil. Not knowing anything about the end of Brazilian slavery or Russian serfdom, I would have appreciated a deeper comparison. Furthermore, with space at a premium, there is no opportunity to learn anything about the lives, actions, and motivations of those who lived during this tumultuous time of transition.
The shortcomings of concision, however, are more than offset by the benefits of distilled insights. I’ve had Eric Foner’s huge, well-regarded Reconstruction: America’s Unfinished Revolution on my shelf for years. Having read this as an aperitif, I feel prepared to take it on.
Even if you do not plan on studying Reconstruction at any great depth, this is a valuable contribution to our understanding of the ongoing struggle for equal rights in America. In one short volume, Guelzo shows us what was possible, and what was lost.