Faculty Research Edition of The Savannah State College Bulletin

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Collection:: Archives of Savannah State University
Title:: Faculty Research Edition of The Savannah State College Bulletin
Creator:: Savannah State College (Ga.)
Publisher:: Faculty Research Edition of The Savannah State College Bulletin, Vol. 27, No. 2 December 1973
Date of Original:: 1973
Subject:: Savannah State College (Ga.)--Faculty
Savannah State College (Ga.)--Faculty--Research
Universities and colleges--Georgia--Faculty--Research
Location:: United States, Georgia, Chatham County, Savannah, 32.08354, -81.09983
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Description:: Note: The Savannah State College Bulletin is published in October, December, February, March, April and May by Savannah State College. Contributers-- Chandra, Dr. Kailas; Cochran, Dr. John Jr.; Daub, Dr. Oscar; Fisher, Randolph; Greene, Dr. John W.; Moore, Charles W.; Jackson, Dr. Prince A. Jr.; Johns, Elizabeth; Johns, Dr. Max Theo; Johnson, Otis S.; Kornegay, Levone; Menon, Dr. M. P.; McCarthy, Dr. Joseph M.; Simpson, Dr. John; Narayanan, Dr. V. Anantha; Verreen, Winfred; Powell, Randolph; McIver, Dr. Isaiah; Walton, Dr. Hanes Jr.
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http://www.archive.org/details/facultyresear2721973sava

FACULTY

RESEARCH

EDITION

The Savannah State
College Bulletin

Volume 27, No. 2 December, 1973

Published by

SAVANNAH STATE COLLEGE

STATE COLLEGE BRANCH
SAVANNAH, GEORGIA

Editorial Policies Which Govern The

Savannah State College Research Bulletin

1. The Bulletin should contain pure research, as well as creative
writing, e.g., essays, poetry, drama, fiction, etc.

2. Manuscripts that have already been published or accepted for
publication in other journals will not be included in the
Bulletin.

3. While it is recommended that the Chicago Manual of Style be
followed, contributors are given freedom to employ other ac-
cepted documentation rules.

4. Although the Bulletin is primarily a medium for the faculty of
Savannah State College, scholarly papers from other faculties
are invited.

FACULTY RESEARCH EDITION

The Savannah State College
Bulletin

Published by
The Savannah State College

Volume 27, No. 2 Savannah, Georgia December, 1973

Prince A. Jackson, Jr. President

Editorial Committee

Thomas H. Byers Isaiah McIver

Gian Ghuman George O'Neill

Max Johns

A. J. McLemore, Chairman

Articles are presented on the authority of their writers, and
neither the Editorial Committee nor Savannah State Collegt
assumes responsibility for the views expressed by contributors.

Contributors

Dr. Kailash Chandra, Associate Professor,
Savannah State College, Savannah, Georgia

Dr. John H. Cochran, Jr., Associate Professor,
Savannah State College, Savannah, Georgia

Dr. Oscar Daub, Assistant Professor,
Savannah State College, Savannah, Georgia

Mr. Randolph Fisher, Professor,
Savannah State College, Savannah, Georgia

Dr. John W. Greene and Charles W. Moore,

Department of Educational Technology,

Howard University, Washington, D. C.

Dr. Prince A. Jackson, Jr., President
Savannah State College, Savannah, Georgia

Mrs. Elizabeth Johns, Assistant Professor,
Savannah State College, Savannah, Georgia

Dr. Max Theo Johns, Associate Professor,
Savannah State College, Savannah, Georgia

Mr. Otis S. Johnson, Instructor, Savannah
State College, Savannah, Georgia

Levone Kornegay and Dr. M. P. Menon, Chemistry
Professor, Savannah State College, Savannah, Georgia

Dr. Joseph M. McCarthy, Ph.D., Assistant

Professor, History and Philosophy of Education

Suffolk University, Boston, Massachusetts

Dr. John E. Simpson, Assistant Professor
Savannah State College, Savannah, Georgia

Dr. V. Anantha Narayanan, Professor of Physics,
Savannah State College, Savannah, Georgia

Winfred Verreen and Randolph Powell, Physics
Students, Savannah State College, Savannah, Georgia

Dr. Isaiah Mclver, Associate Professor,
Savannah State College, Savannah, Georgia

Dr. Hanes Walton, Jr., Associate Professor,
Savannah State College, Savannah, Georgia

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Training Physics Teachers for Secondary Schools
and Colleges

Dr. Kailash Chandra 5

Opinions of Black and White Elementary Teachers
about Economically Deprived Children

Dr. John H. Cochran, Jr., Ph.D 13

The Function of Religious Language in Ibsen's Brand

Dr. Oscar Daub 23

The Intent and Importance of Black Studies

Mr. Randolph Fisher 36

Some Effects of the Application of Computer Assisted
Mastery Learning Techniques on Black College Students
Dr. John W. Greene, Ph.D. and Mr. Charles W. Moore,

M.A 39

The Legal Quest by the American Negro for Equal
Educational Opportunity

Dr. Prince A. Jackson, Jr., Ph.D 44

Durrenmatt's Heroes

Mrs. Elizabeth Johns 63

Income Profile of Savannah Residents; A Comparison of the
Status of Black and Non-Black Families

Dr. Max Theo Johns 83

The Evolving Black Church

Mr. Otis S. Johnson 101

Measurement of the Solubility and Solubility Product of
Zinc Chromate by the Radiotracer Method

Levone Kornegay and Dr. M. P. Menon Ill

Quintilian's Modernity: Implications for the Nature of
Educational Theory

Dr. Joseph M. McCarthy, Ph.D 116

The U. S. Bank and the Tarriff: A Jacksonian Dilemma

Dr. John E. Simpson 123

Large Angle Oscillations of a Simple Pendulum
A Computer Oriented Experimental Approach
Dr. V. Anantha Narayanan, Winfred Verren, and

Randolph Powell 127

Refraction in a Prism - A Computer Simulated Experiment
To Calculate the Angles of Deviation and to Plot the I-D
Curve

Dr. V. Anantha Narayanan 131

Black Political Autobiographies; Panacea for a Race

Dr. Hanes Walton, Jr. and Dr. Isaiah Mclver 136

The Political Theory of the Black Muslims

Dr. Hanes Walton, Jr. and Dr. Isaiah Mclver 148

TRAINING PHYSICS TEACHERS FOR SECONDARY
SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES

Kailash Chandra - Professor

Mathematics and Physics Department

Savannah State College

One of the major problems faced by the Physics community
today is "Despite the intense interactions between Physics and
society, the understanding of the aims and contents of Physics by
the general public is generally very poor." 1 The problem bears
serious consequences for the future of Physicists and must be at-
tacked at the high school level since half of the high school
graduates do not get further higher education. These students as
citizens take part in making decisions governing the support of
science (through the ballot box) and their ignorance of Physics
further increases the gap between the practicing physicists and
the society which supports them. The efforts can be made and
should be made at the college level also by offering the courses
for non-professional students with an objective of developing an
appreciation of Physics in them, but it is very difficult to attract
them in college if they have been discouraged at the high school
level.

Early exposure of Physics is vital to the recruitment of new
physicists also. It has been observed that those students who
develop an early interest in science go to higher studies during
their later years.

Keeping this in mind, let us review the situation of Physics in
the high schools of the United States. Most schools offer no more
than one or two classes of Physics each year. Enrollment in these
classes is dropping each year relative to the number of students,
in spite of the decade of efforts on Physics project courses, the
widespread interest in the space program, and the increasing
realization that some knowledge of the physical science is essen-
tial to the educated citizen. The main reason for this "flight from
Physics" by today's students is the shortage of qualified high
school Physics teachers.

If we define minimally an adequate college preparation as 18
semester hours (27 quarter hours) in the discipline taught, we
find the fraction of high school classes (throughout the nation)
taught by inadequately trained teachers to be 2

Biology 21%

Mathematics 23%

Chemistry 34%

Physics 66%

These data indicate that the problem of the shortage of
qualified high school physics teachers is nation-wide and needs
immediate attention.

The problem with regard to Georgia:

People teaching Physics in Georgia high schools in 1966 had
the following preparation in Physics. 3

Number of College Percentage of Teachers

Courses in Physics With This Preparation

33.0

1 16.0

2 25.0

3 15.0

4 7.5
More than 4 3.5

It would be safe to estimate that each of the 385 state-
supported schools offering physics in 1966 employed just one
teacher of Physics in the State. There were only 3.5 percent of
these, or 13 teachers, with more than four college physics courses.

A personal correspondence with the State Superintendent of
Schools, Department of Education, State of Georgia, has revealed
that there have never been more than five or six physics teachers
prepared in any one year in the past. Last year only eight physics
teachers were certified, which is the most the State Department of
Education has ever had.

The NEA (National Education Association, Research Re-
port, 1969-R 4) report shows that 22 states of the South produced
four or fewer certified physics teachers only at the time of study
in 1969.

These data show though jobs for physical scientists are fewer
and monies are scarcer; the outlook for secondary school physics
teachers is still brighter. This study further points out that
colleges and universities must bear the responsibility of
promoting the programs for training qualified secondary school
physics teachers for the benefits of schools and the future of the
physics community as well.

The training problem can be divided into three areas: Stan-
dards of teacher certification, teacher training curricula, and
student recruitment for these curricula.

Standard of Georgia State Teacher Certification:

The general requirements 4 for Physics teacher's professional
four-year (T-4) certificates are:

(1) The bachelors degree from a regionally accredited four-
year college.

(2) Approximately sixty quarter hours in General Education
courses the freshmen and sophomore courses in
English, science, social sciences, mathematics, and
related subjects basic to the general needs of all students
regardless of vocational or professional activities.

(3) Requirements for teaching field:

Physics: 40 quarter hours which may include a maximum
of 10 quarter hours selected from chemistry, calculus,
and analytical geometry.

(4) Professional Education: 30 quarter hours which must in-
clude a minimum of 10 quarter hours in each of the
following areas:

Foundations of Education (Human growth and develop-
ment, educational psychology,
adolescent psychology, history
and philosophy of education,
etc.)

Curriculum and Methods (Secondary curriculum and

methods, principles of secon-
dary education, educational
media, etc.)

Secondary student teaching or

an approved substitute (With at least one year of ac-
ceptable teaching experience;
the approved substitutes are
secondary workshop or 10
quarter hours in education
courses approved by the cer-
tification office).

Teacher Training Curricula:

A three-leveled physics curriculum 5 has been outlined by the
Panel on the Preparation of Physics Teachers (PPPT) to meet the
various backgrounds and career goals of prospective teachers,
which can be used as guidelines for developing the program for
training students for secondary school teaching. However, the
following points are suggested here which may be helpful in
designing the program.

1. The prospective teacher must receive a broad and
thorough education in Physics in order to understand the
subject matter to be taught. Since most schools are
generally unable to employ a teacher for one discipline
only, the training must be broad enough to allow the
teaching of at least one other field besides Physics.

2. The sequence of physics courses will affect recruitment
and must accommodate likely sources of students. 5

3. The content of the Physics courses should reflect the need
of the high school teachers.

4. The prospective teacher must have a functional under-
standing of pedagogical theory, an opportunity to
develop their skills in a realistic but controlled practice
teaching situation, and familiarity with an environment
in which they expect to teach.

5. A course in history and philosophy of physics is par-
ticularly important for the teacher.

6. It is not desirable to have teacher candidates simply take
the courses of the research oriented bachelor's degree

program. New courses may be developed with an objec-
tives:

(a) the unity of the physical and biological sciences may
be given greater emphasis.

(b) the classes may be conducted in a laboratory-
demonstration format which stresses students par-
ticipation more than formal lectures.

(d) the students interact directly with local high school
students and teachers.

7. The prospective teacher must have the necessary rigorous
training in the sciences to be able to utilize effectively
new curriculum material and ideas without spending an
excessive amount of time in reviewing (or learning) the
material.

8. Many high schools lack in adequate space and money for
materials. It means that the teacher must be able to use
the environment and materials at hand to create ex-
periments and demonstrations by which the students can
experience the scientific principles being studied.

9. The prospective teacher must be able to present Physics
in a manner which the students will understand, without
sacrificing the content of the subject matter. In order to
do this the teacher will have to find ways of releasing the
confidence and creative ability that the students show
outside the school in the classroom. He must be trained
to establish a rapport between himself and the student
which depends critically upon the teacher's understan-
ding of the total social, cultural, and educational
background of the school, and how the background af-
fects the classroom performance.

10. It is desirable to provide students with technical drawing
and workshop practice to make them well rounded ex-
perimentalists.

11. The program should enable teachers already in service to
get further training in Physics. A new in-service program
can also be designed.

12. It is desirable to provide students with early practice
teaching experience, either through participation in high
school visitation or through some other activity
associated with the course.

13. For the prospective teacher, Physics must be stimulating,
interesting, personally useful, and socially, politically,
and historically significant. Because the attitude that the
teacher takes towards his subject influences the attitude
of his students towards it.

14. Prospective teachers must like Teaching. The fundamen-
tal problems involved in teaching Physics in any high
school is as follows: How to make Physics interesting,

relevant, and comprehensible: that is to teach Physics to
students in such a way that they are excited by it, feel
that they are gaining knowledge about things previously
not understood or less clear, and believe that this
knowledge is important in their lives and to society. The
teacher trained to demonstrate that Physics has much to
offer towards the solutions of many of the problems of
our society as we contend, will certainly be an asset to
the institution and Physics community.

Recruitment for These Curricula:

1. The existence of the program at the College should be
made known to the students while they are still in school.
This can be done by sending the details of the program to
school principals, counselors and also by participation in
the career week program of the high schools.

2. Greater efforts to recruit new teachers should be focussed
from those areas, rural ones in particular, which are ex-
periencing teacher shortages, as in all probability, it is
these schools which will be hiring the future graduates of
the teacher training program.

3. From time to time visits by a faculty member of the
Physics department to the schools and physics teachers
will be very useful for recruiting prospective candidates.

4. Many of the students are oriented toward teaching from
the very beginning; hence the direction of recruitment ef-
fort should be to sell physics to the teachers instead of
selling the teaching to physicists. Each secondary
education major who enters the required physical science
course or general physics course should be regarded as a
potential candidate. If he does well above average in
these courses, one of the faculty members may counsel
him and discuss the possibility of going into physics
teaching.

5. Teachers' salary schedule (1971-72) of the Chatham
Board of Education is attached herewith as Appendix.
The teacher's salary in other counties of the State of
Georgia will be nearly the same with a difference of one
or two hundred dollars. As it can be seen, salary is not
very alluring to attract very brilliant young students for
the school teaching profession, though some schools give
salary supplements to physics teachers. But the question
of salary supplements will depend upon supply and
demand. Hence efforts should be made to recruit only
those students who really are interested in making
teaching their career. Students should be made aware of
the fact that there is still a great demand for science
teachers particularly in the area of Physics.

6. The profession of secondary school physics teacher will
be more suitable to married girls, as they can easily find

a suitable job as physics teacher at any place their
husbands plan to move.

7. To popularize Physics, colleges should offer a variety of
physics courses appealing to a broader spectrum of
students interests, abilities and needs. Special emphasis
should be put upon inclusion of course objectives with
strong appeal to girls, to students of low average
academic abilities, to students not planning academic
work after graduation and to students who tend to be
people oriented. This emphasis implies greater inclusion
of social, historical and political aspects of physics in
course objectives.

8. Dr. Fletcher Watson, Professor of science education at
Harvard University, remarks 6 that, as a professional
group, we demonstrate a negative bias towards teaching
which is felt by and transmitted to our students. In many
departments, if a person decides to major in physics and
go into teaching, he is not well received by the majority
of the physics faculty members. As we commonly say, he
becomes a "second-class citizen." This negative bias is
something that we need to try to eliminate if we are to
improve our recruitment.

It is also needed to bring into college teaching some exam-
ples of methods of teaching which prospective teachers are expec-
ted to use when they themselves begin to teach. Most likely these
students are to do the same things to their students as they are
taught themselves in the college, no matter what they are told by
their professor in methods of teaching. It increases, further, the
responsibility of colleges and universities to train suitable
students for college teaching also.

The colleges offer the courses to both science majors and
non-science majors. The faculty of the college has to teach
research oriented courses as well as courses for non-science
majors. It, therefore, appears desirable that along with the
present physics preparation and course, training must be given to
prospective college teachers in learning theory, use of teaching
aids, instructional use of computers, design and development of
laboratory experiments and science related to Physics. One or two
educational psychology courses should also be added in their
curriculum along with teaching experience using demonstrations.
This problem has been given deep consideration during recent
years and two fine articles (references 7 and 8) have recently ap-
peared which are concerned with college physics teacher
preparation. These will be helpful in developing a curriculum for
these students.

It is certain that, with this combination of personal ties with
high schools and physics teachers, a rapport between teacher and
student, design of new courses appealing to a broader spectrum of
student's interests, abilities, and needs, good college teaching,

and a strong aggressive faculty, colleges and universities are
bound to attract better and more students to both the
professional major and teacher training program.

REFERENCES

1. National Academy of Sciences, Physics: Survey and Outlook (Washington, D.
C, 1966), p. 23.

2. Ben A. Green, Jr., Newsletter, Commission on College Physics, May 1967.

3. State Department of Education, unpublished report, "The Present Status of
High School Physics in Georgia," 1966.

4. Source - Office of Instructional Services, Division of Teacher Education and
Certification, State Department of Education, Atlanta, (IC-91a, Revised
August 1971).

5. "Preparing High School Physics Teachers" Commission on College Physics,
1968.

6. Newsletter No. 20, Commission on College Physics, September 1969, p. 5.

7. 'A Course for Graduate Preparation for Teaching,' F. B. Stumf, American
Journal of Physics, Vol. 39, October 1971, p. 1223.

8. 'College Physics Teacher Preparation How to Do It,' A. A. Strassenburg,
American Journal of Physics, Vol. 39, November 1971, p. 1307.

APPENDIX
BOARD OF PUBLIC EDUCATION - SAVANNAH, GEORGIA

TEACHERS' SALARY SCHEDULE 1971-72

Yr.

XB-4*

B-4*

T-4*

B-5*

T-5*

T-6*

T-7*

Yr.

6175

6288

6400

6810

7219

6558

6983

7408

6715

7156

7597

6873

7329

7786

8700

7030

7503

7975

8920

7188

7676

8164

9141

10,117

7345

7849

8353

9361

10,369

7503

8022

8542

9582

10,621

7660

8196

8731

9802

10,873

7818

8369

8920

10,023

11,125

7975

8542

9109

10,243

11,377

8133

8715

9298

10,464

11,629

8290

8889

9487

10,684

11,881

8448

9062

9676

10,905

12,133

8605

9215

9865

11,125

12,385

9865

11,125

12,385

*This salary will be paid in 12 monthly payments - September 30
through August 31.

OPINIONS OF BLACK AND WHITE

ELEMENTARY TEACHERS ABOUT

ECONOMICALLY DEPRIVED CHILDREN

John H. Cochran, Jr., Ed.D.

Division of Education

Savannah State College

Savannah, Georgia

Rationale for the Study

If the primary activity of schools is the teaching of children,
then all children should benefit from an education consistent
with their actual capabilities, regardless of their socio-economic
condition. Teachers who are sensitive to the capabilities and
needs of children can promote learning through a curriculum
planned with these capabilities and needs in mind.

Attempts have been made to assess the sensitivites of
teachers through research which measured attitudes and
opinions. An attitude has a cognitive element and an affective
reaction (White, 1969, p. 95). An opinion is an unverified
judgment, usually used interchangeably with belief and is direc-
ted to the cognitive domain (White, 1969, p. 95). Opinions often
influence attitudes.

Ulibarri (1960) in a study regarding teacher awareness notes
that ghetto teachers are often unaware of cultural differences in
the motivation of students, and are insensitive to socio-cultural
factors as they impinge on the classroom behavior of different
ethnic groups. Clark (1965) stresses the significance of teacher at-
titudes in the success or failure of students in Harlem ghetto
schools. This researcher believes it is important that teachers
demonstrate those behaviors that will encourage the child to
learn and at the same time minimize negative-type behaviors.

Many teachers' attitudes can be modified as a result of in-
creased awareness, exposure, and knowledge. Teachers should ac-
tively seek the information and experience that will give them a
better understanding of economically deprived children (Stone,
1969). The development of positive attitudes and opinions by
teachers can significantly affect the learning opportunities
provided these children.

Although teachers may bring positive behaviors to a learning
situation, there may be other problems to encounter. Teachers
who are sincere in their efforts to teach all children, regardless of

their academic levels, sometimes are hindered more through ad-
ministrative limitations or blocks than any other source.
Williams (1970), elaborating upon some of the limitations,
asserts, "An analysis of opinions regarding hindrances to
programs for disadvantaged youth reveals that . . . uniform and
large classes throughout the system is number one." He also
suggests that lack of equipment and teacher-denial of permission
to try new procedures are hindrances. Elementary teachers in-
dicated that system-wide policies and procedures which are in-
flexible are their second greatest hindrance to effective programs.

To some degree, the literature supports the fact that teacher
expectation influences pupil-achievement (Rosenthal and Jacob-
son, 1968). There is little research evidence relative to the
opinions of teachers about children in poverty areas. This study
may provide needed data on the opinions of teachers about
economically deprived children.

Purpose of the Study

The purpose of this study was to determine certain opinions
that Black and White elementary teachers had about
economically deprived children.

Methodology
Population

The inner city population in this study was composed of the
teachers from five elementary schools in the Atlanta Public
School System and five elementary schools in the City of Savan-
nah and Chatham County System. The rural population was
composed of teachers from schools located in a North Georgia
shared services area, and a South Georgia shared services area.

The final numbers in the population were 104 rural elemen-
tary teachers and 171 inner city elementary teachers. The rural
areas, to qualify for this study, had to be located outside a 50-
mile radius of a metropolitan area (100,000 or more in
population).

The teachers that participated in the study taught in elemen-
tary schools whose student population was considered
economically deprived. This condition was determined by the
requirement of a school's having 50% or more of its student
population eligible to receive free or partial-pay lunches.

Fifty-nine percent of the teachers in this study were white.
However, Whites and Blacks in the urban group were almost
identical in percentage, as contrasted to 22 percent Blacks and 78
percent Whites in the rural group. Only 51, or 19 percent, held the
master's degree or had approximately 30 semester hours beyond
that level; 81 percent held the bachelor's degree; one person did

not respond to this question. Seventeen percent of the inner city
group held the master's degree, and nine percent of the rural
group held that degree. In contrast, three percent of those in the
inner city group and eight percent of the rural population had
earned the master's degree plus 30 semester hours.

Instrumentation

The survey instrument for the study consisted of an opinion-
naire totaling 54 items. In order to obtain certain opinions of
teachers about economically deprived children, it was necessary
for the researcher to develop the instrument, Opinions About
Economically Deprived Children (OEDC). This opinionnaire was
a modification of the Culturally and Economically Disadvan-
taged Children and Youth Opinion Questionnaire, Form S-l
(Torrance and Cichoke, 1967). The Opinions About Economically
Deprived Children (OEDC) opinionnaire was derived from the
Torrance and Cichoke (1967) modification of the Culturally and
Economically Disadvantaged Children (Opinion Questionnaire)
(Beck, 1963).

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RESULTS

The results of the teachers' responses to the items in the
OEDC are arranged in the accompanying table. The responses to
items in the opinionnaire have been discussed in two categories,
agreed and disagreed. This was done by combining the percen-
tages in the "strongly agree" and "agree" columns to form one
response, agreed. The same was done for the "strongly disagree"
and "disagree" columns to form one response, disagreed.

Differences between the responses of Black and White
elementary teachers to the same item occurred in approximately
50 percent of the items on the OEDC. The responses of Black and
White teachers differed 10 percent or more on the several items.
White teachers agreed 10 percent or more than Black teachers on
items: 1.5, 1.8, 1.10, 2.4, 2.7, 3.6, 3.8, 4.3, 4.6, 5.4, 5.6, and item 6.5.
Black teachers agreed 10 percent or more than White teachers on
items: 1.9, 2.5, 3.5, and item 5.3. White teachers disagreed 10 per-
cent or more than Black teachers on items: 1.1, 1.9, 1.13, 3.12,
and item 5.3. Black teachers disagreed 10 percent or more than
White teachers on items: 1.5, 1.7, 1.10, 2.4, 2.7, 3.2, 3.6, 3.10, 4.6,
and item 6.5.

Summary and Conclusions

This study sought to determine certain opinions that Black
and White elementary teachers had about economically deprived
children. On the basis of the findings these conclusions were
made:

1. The overall responses of Black and White elementary
teachers to the OEDC were similar.

2. Economically deprived persons would be successful if
they only exerted themselves.

3. Economically deprived persons lack ambition to obtain
an education.

4. Parents of economically deprived children want their
children to earn a living as soon as possible.

5. Poor parents trust teachers and other school personnel.

6. In order for economically deprived children to be suc-
cessful, they must accept middle-class values.

7. Teachers must insist that middle-class values are adop-
ted by economically deprived children.

8. Economically deprived children have shorter attention
spans than other children.

9. Textbooks are not necessary for economically deprived
children.

10. Economically deprived children use their poverty
background as an excuse to do slipshod work.

11. White teachers believed that a salable skill is more im-
portant to poor children than did Black teachers.

12. Black teachers disagreed that economically deprived
children feared corporal punishment from teachers they
did not know.

13. White teachers agreed that economically deprived per-
sons lacked enough ambition to sacrifice present pleasure
to obtain an education.

14. White teachers, more than Black teachers, disagreed that
poverty level parents were vitally interested in national
and world affairs.

15. More White than Black teachers agreed that teachers
lowered academic standards for economically deprived
youth. However, the majority of White teachers did not
agree that this was so.

Implications

Many teachers tended to be undecided in regard to many of
their opinions about economically deprived children. On certain
items, teachers seemed to respond in terms of middle-class values.
Teachers according to the present study seem to be primarily
middle-class in their orientation, regardless of race and size of
school system.

Teachers probably need more training in regard to accep-
tance of people according to their situation and economic con-
dition. They need to be trained, pre-service and in-service, to
adapt themselves to almost any setting and provide an ap-
propriate instructional program. Those who are not interested in
public education for all people should be separated from the ser-
vice. This should apply to administrators, teachers and others in-
volved in professional education.

References

Beck, R. H. Culturally and economically disadvantaged children (opinion

questionnaire). College of Education, University of Minnesota, 1963.
Clark, K. B. Dark ghetto: Dilemmas of social power. New York: Harper and Row,

1965.
Cochran, J. H., Jr. Opinions of rural and inner city elementary teachers about

economically deprived children and appropriate procedures for curriculum

development. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, The University of Georgia,

1971.
Rosenthal, R. and Jacobson, L. Pygmalion in the classroom. New York: Holt,

Rinehart and Winston, 1968.
Stone, J. C. Teachers for the disadvantaged. San Francisco: Hossey-Bass, 1969.
Torrence, E. P. and Cichoke, A. J. Culturally and economically disadvantaged

children and youth opinion questionnaire. Form S-l. Department of

Educational Psychology, The University of Georgia, 1967.
Ulibarri, H. Teacher awareness of sociocultural differences in multicultural

classroom. Sociology and Social Research, 1960.
White, W. F. Psychosocial principles applied to classroom teaching. New York:

McGraw Hill, 1969.
Williams, P. V. Education of disadvantaged youth: vs. administrators. The

Educational Forum, 1970, 34 (2).

THE FUNCTION OF

RELIGIOUS LANGUAGE IN IBSEN'S BRAND

Oscar C. Daub

The significance of Brand in Ibsen's career both as an ar-
tistic achievement and as a turning point is widely recognized, 1
yet there is very little scholarship in English about this important
play. Some of the reasons for this virtual disregard are obvious:
as a verse play it almost demands to be read in Norwegian; for
the same reason, translations are even less reliable than usual;
there are many allusions to contemporary events which are
remote from English readers in significance, as well as time; and
the sense of mission to his countrymen which impelled Ibsen to
write the drama in the first place 2 is obscured and undercut by
lack of familiarity with nineteenth-century Scandinavian cultural
development. Nevertheless, now that Gathorne-Hardy has
provided a full translation, in verse, 3 it behooves those readers of
Ibsen restricted to reading him in English to attempt to come to
terms with what is certainly one of his greatest and most impor-
tant plays.

To examine the use of religious language in the play
simultaneously excludes many other avenues of meaning and
challenges Ibsen's stated position that he could just as well have
written the play about a sculptor or a politician. 4 Gathorne-
Hardy has provided a succinct rebuttal of Ibsen's contention by
observing, "This perhaps was not in a sense untrue, but it was
certainly an equivocation. After all, he had in fact written a play
on the same subject with Peer Gynt as the central figure, but the
whole moral effectiveness of Brand certainly depends on
arguments drawn from religion, and the Bible, which Ibsen had
stated at the time was his only reading." 5 Ibsen's protestations
notwithstanding, then, one of the important entrances into the
significance of the play as it is not as it might have been is
to carefully trace the use of religious language in it. The religious
terms in which Brand conceives of himself and his mission, the
religious words in which he is characterized by the other charac-
ters, and the language devoted to the explicitly religious aspects
of the play's meaning all contribute to such a study. The results
of such a reading of the play provide interesting insights into the
character of Brand and, by extension, into some of the basic
meanings of the play.

In the brief first act, some of the basic religious tensions
which inform the entire play are established. These issues are
verbalized in two ways: either through one of Brand's soliloquies
or monologues, or through Brand's conversations with Einar and
Agnes and, later, Gerd. The central image of Brand's first
soliloquy is his recollection of two childhood fancies which
always caused him to laugh: "The figure of an owl scared by the
dark,/ Or a fish afraid of water . . ." (p. 37). While these figures
are not religious in nature, the humor they caused the young

Brand is analyzed by the mature Brand as consisting in "just the
contradiction, dimly felt,/ Between the thing that is, and that
should be" (p. 38). The real significance of this analysis rests in
the application which Brand makes of it to his present situation.
He is now a clergyman who sees a majority of the people involved
in such a contradiction in that they "think that burden is too
hard/ Which they were specifically designed to bear" (p. 38). It is
important to notice that when Brand applies his childhood fan-
cies to the present situation he is doing so in religious, but pre-
Christian, terms. There is Biblical allusion to Matthew 11: 28-29,
where Jesus urges his followers, "Come unto me, all ye that labor
and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest . . . For my yoke is
easy, and my burden is light," but despite the New Testament
referent, the pre-Christian nature of Brand's allusion is apparent:
he is not concerned with the quality of the people's faith, but with
their ability to endure their own suffering, much as the pre-
Christian Israelites were called on to do. This Old Testament
theme is more explicitly verbalized when Brand, in his second
soliloquy, spoken while he is surveying the village from the moun-
tainside, likens the extent of his powerlessness to act in the local
situation to that of Samson, "shorn and tamed" (p. 51). The
culmination of the act, and of Brand's evolving sense of the
nature of his mission, occurs in the closing soliloquy. Here Brand
concludes: "I recognize my task: These monsters three [Frivolity,
Slackness, madness] / Must fall, and thus redeem the suffering
world" (p. 55). The remarkable aspect of this formulation is its
essentially un-Biblical nature; it certainly makes Brand sound
more like a social reformer than a Christian priest. The tone of
Brand's conclusion, as well as the language of it, effectively
dramatizes the fact that Brand considers himself a type of
prophet.

Brand's personal reflections are both corroborated and
modified by his dialogue with other characters during the act. In
his conversation with Einar and Agnes, Brand is forced to at-
tempt to explain himself and his mission. In the course of this ex-
planation he makes it apparent that the state of contemporary
religious life with which he is so impatient transcends, at this
point in the play, any one-to-one equation with specifically Nor-
wegian religious practice: as far as Brand is concerned, his call
lies in the regions to the south. The most important piece of infor-
mation which Brand divulges about himself in this scene occurs
when he attempts to differentiate between himself and other
reformers: "No I'm no pulpit-thumping Puritan,/ I am not
speaking of or for the church,/ I hardly know if I'm a Christian;/
But that I am a man that I know quite well:/ And I am sure
that I can see the flaw/ Which saps our nation's marrow
everywhere" (p. 45). This remarkable little speech clearly
establishes two things. In the first place, the speech underscores
the basically pre-Christian nature of Brand's evolving sense of
mission. When seen in the perspective on the Judeo-Christian

tradition, however, his emphasis on his own manhood, and the
fact that he is genuinely interested in a type of religious reform,
again align him with the prophets of the Old Testament. This
association is further borne out by Brand's posturing throughout
the scene with Einar and Agnes, and in his warning to them
which opens the scene, "Stop! Stop! There is a precipice beyond"
(p. 39), which has overtones of much of the prophetic rhetoric
found in the Old Testament. In the second place, a fact related to
but importantly different from, Brand's conception of himself as
a kind of prophet becomes apparent: Brand has a profound sense
of his unique position as an aloof observer and judge of his
society. The quality of egoism involved in such a position could,
when applied to a religious crisis, result in martyrdom. Given
Brand's confessedly uncertain convictions, however, his ego-
strength must always be regarded as an essentially secular trait.
Even later in the play, when his sense of mission begins to define
itself in more explicitly New Testament terms, his reliance on his
own strength and will disallows the assigning of particularly
Christian commitment to his purpose.

As the conversation with Einar and Agnes proceeds, Brand
finds that he is required to articulate for them precisely what his
conception of God is. He combines his delineation of his God's at-
tributes with an attack on the formalized, benign God of the state
churches. The dual concern makes it clear that Brand conceives
of his mission as one of purification through commitment, but it
is noteworthy that he formulates his own perception of God in
purely Old Testament, hence, pre-Christian, terms. Brand's God
is "a storm . . . inflexible . . . all-loving . . . His voice with thunder
and with terror rang/ When, in the burning bush of Horeb's
mount,/ He fronted Moses . . ." (p. 47). With such a conception of
God, it is not surprising that Brand then asserts, "I stand to
champion the eternal law" (p. 49). There is an almost directly
anti-Christian element in his desire to pursue his goal "till God
shall know/ Once more His masterpiece, the man He made,/ His
offspring, Adam, young and strong once more!" (p. 48) According
to the New Testament, Christ was the "second Adam" who
restored man's lost status in the cosmos, so Brand's ambition
here even suggests an element of blasphemy. Quite apart from
this, however, Brand has now clearly aligned himself with Moses
and the tradition of law, as opposed to Jesus and the tradition of
grace.

In the subsequent dialogue with Gerd Brand develops the
first notion that his mission might be more local than world-wide.
Refusing Gerd's invitation to accompany her to the Ice Church,
Brand says, "You mustn't ever go there: It's not safe"; to
which Gerd retorts, gesturing at the village in the valley, "There
you must never go: it's ugly there" (p. 54). This retort causes
Brand to begin to countenance the idea that his mission might be
directed to the local situation. In spite of the continuing uncer-
tainty about the object of his mission, however, he persists in ver-

balizing the nature of it in terms which are reformist and Old
Testament. Thus, by the end of the first act Brand has begun to
narrow the scope of his mission as well as to define the object of
his attack. Debilitating, institutionalized, apathetic State
Christianity and, increasingly, that branch of it found in Nor-
way emerges as his opponent, and his attack is conceived and
verbalized in predominantly Old Testament language.

The primary action of the second act is Brand's decision to
become the parson of the local village church. The language in
which this decision is contemplated, made, and substantiated
again underscores the basically Old Testament perspective in
which Brand sees himself and in which he functions.

As in the first act, an interplay between three monologues by
Brand and intervening dialogue structure this act. After the
heroic, almost melodramatic, crossing of the fjord to schrive the
man who has murdered his child and taken his own life, Brand
emerges from the cottage in which the man has just died and he
reflects on the nature of death and guilt. His dismissal of his ad-
ministration of priestly comfort as "vain illusion" (p. 64), allows
him to discourse on his perception of the true nature of the dead
man's guilt e.g. the effect of the murder-suicide on the two
children who witnessed it but who were not physically touched by
it. Brand calls the survivors "the victims of his homicide," and
anticipates that, from them, "perchance, [there] shall issue forth/
For generations, further sin and crime" (p. 65), because of the Old
Testament precept that the sins of the fathers are visited upon the
children. This theme becomes one of the major motifs of the en-
tire act, for later Brand exclaims to Agnes, "But how discharge
the load of debt/ Inherited from generations past" (p. 71), and his
exclamation is immediately followed by the symbolic entrance of
his own mother. In the course of his encounter with her, Brand
again digresses on the theme of guilt, but he makes a much more
personal statement in which he recounts to his mother how he
had hidden in the room where his father was laid out and had
watched her ransack the room looking for money. This infor-
mation does much to explain Brand's obsession with inherited
guilt; it also prepares for his decision to remain in the village
church for the unarticulated, but dramatically inevitable, motive
in this decision is the sense of reparation for the sins of his own
fathers, the chief o." which is that his parents were guilty of a
loveless marriage.

In the third monologue of this act, Brand recognizes the
many self-serving elements in his former vision of a world
crusade, and he finally relinquishes that vision for a life of
dedicated work in the village. He claims, "The one thing needful
is to rouse the will;/ Will, which can either liberate or destroy,"
and he specifies his goal for the populace by saying, "We serve
alike the dignity of man:/ We have one common object to
become/ Fit writing-tablets for the hand of God" (p. 81). Thus,

through the use of another image alluding to the Mosaic
revelation, Brand indicates his genuine desire to serve God, but
the way he proposes to attain this end through the main
strength of his will simultaneously measures the dangerous
power of his own ego, and the Old Testament, legalistic cast of his
mind. The irony of the decision to remain consists, of course, in
the fact that when Brand renounces one crusade because of its
personally gratifying aspects, he fails to recognize the same forces
operative although on a more subtle level in the choice he
does make.

The thematically important dialogues of the second act begin
in the second scene, after Brand has crossed the fjord. The first
scene presented him with the opportunity for action; the second
scene initiates the process of his decision to remain in the village,
ostensibly as a consequence of that action. Brand's action has
demonstrated to the people the degree of commitment which
governs his life, and they appeal to him to serve them. In an
ironic turning of Brand's own words upon him, one of the men
counters his refusal to remain by observing, "If life you grudge,
though all things else are bought,/ Remember that your sacrifice
is nought" (p. 68). The irony is compounded by Brand's response
to this challenge. He had originally scoffed at the idea of such a
limited ministry, but, confronted by his own words, his ego is
seduced into reconsidering the matter. The process of recon-
sideration is reinforced through Agnes' vision.

Agnes relates a vision of a barren world in which a voice
commands her to "Discharge the solemn task assigned to thee,/
People this land" (p. 70). After she relates more details, the im-
port of the vision breaks upon Brand, who exclaims, "That is the
call! It is written . . . there the new Adam must be born," (p.
70) and who demands the privilege "To be oneself/ Wholly" (p.
70). As if to undercut this possibility, while Brand ponders the
role of inherited guilt in a man's life, his mother enters. It is most
significant that in the subsequent encounter with his mother
Brand reaffirms the appropriateness of the preceding Old
Testament allusions by placing her under an injunction to
"voluntarily cast aside/ All that which now is binding you to
earth," (p. 78) before he will ever come to her spiritual aid. Thus
he imposes upon her a standard of behaviour which is similar to,
but which also exceeds, that which God imposed upon Job. Job
underwent a process of loss and suffering imposed by God in a
way which progressively tested his faith, but in which he, himself,
was passive; Brand demands that his mother subject herself to
only the final phase of a similar process without allowing her to
undergo a progressive testing and without assuring her of faith as
its outcome. Brand's demand also echoes the New Testament in-
junction, "Go, sell all thou hast," but in a way which again
measures his dangerously pre-Christian mindset, for the end
which he foresees for such casting aside is not faith but his own
spiritual aid. Focusing on such a New Testament allusion one

might even argue that Brand commits a kind of blasphemy, for he
inserts himself into the role which Christ fulfills in the source of
the allusion.

The culmination of the decisions made in this act is, of
course, Brand's decision to stay in the village, but this is not the
only decision made: it is complemented by Agnes' decision to stay
with Brand, rather than to go with Einar. The contrast between
the two decisions could not be more marked. Brand's decision is a
willful response to his call to serve the village; Agnes' decision is
a response to her love for Brand. The drama of her fateful choice
almost overshadows the most ominous note sounded in these
closing scenes, for when Brand is delineating the life she can ex-
pect with him, he says, "My claim is 'nought or all'" (p. 82). The
ominousness of this inheres in its egoism; Brand usurps the role
of God in placing demands on people's lives. One would be amiss
to construe this is a consciously blasphemous act on Brand's part,
but it does serve to enhance his developing role as an Old
Testament-like prophet speaking in the absence of complete
Christian revelation.

By the close of the second act, then, important decisions have
been made, accompanied by subtle, portentous revelations about
Brand's character. Significantly, all of these things are verbalized
in essentially Old Testament language. Ibsen is carefully and
consistently signaling the sources of later, more spectacular,
developments.

The major dramatic events of the third act are the death of
Brand's mother and the decision which Brand makes to remain
in Norway, at the inevitable cost of his son's life. The religious
language of this act, too, is almost exclusively Old Testament in
nature, the dominant image being one which Brand, himself, ar-
ticulates when he realizes that, as Abraham was required by God
to offer Isaac as a sacrifice, so he might be required to offer Alf.
The savage irony of Brand's association of himself with Abraham
is, of course, that while God required Abraham to be willing to of-
fer Isaac, He did not permit the actual deed. Brand appears
unable to discern that his demands, resulting in actual death, ex-
ceed those God made. Regardless, Brand's association of himself
with the Old Testament patriarch-prophets is one of the major
motifs of this act. At one time or another Brand identifies himself
with Noah (p. 91), Adam (p. 91), or Moses (p. 92). In addition, he
is characterized as a "stern judge" by one of the minor characters
(p. 93).

Consistent with such frequent identification with Old
Testament figures, Brand's major religious concern in this act is
his effort to exalt the precept of no compromise "to a law" (p. 88).
The falsity of this goal is pointed out by the doctor although it
remains unrecognized by Brand who says that Brand's mother
will be judged, "not by the law, but by the grace of God" (p. 105).
The doctor further insists, "you [Brand] still believe/ The

covenant of the law is binding yet,/ Both upon God and ordinary
men" (p. 105). This formulation of Brand's problem is certainly
consistent with the previous religious language in the play, and is
the very heart of the problem which Brand must resolve. Brand is
not proposing a program of reform beyond men's capabilities, but
the terms in which he proposes it his demand for will and law,
rather than faith are terms which indicate how his own per-
sonality has been projected into his religious tenets. This charge
by the doctor also clarifies his previous accusation, "Yes, vicar, in
life's ledger, you can show/ Plenty of credit entries under 'will';/
But turn the page to 'love,' you'll find it blank" (p. 90). To ac-
cept this as a blanket statement that Brand knows no love at all
is to do violence to the play (cf. Gathorne-Hardy's Introduction,
pp. 25-26); however, when rendered in spiritual terms, it is quite
accurate. Brand does follow a covenant of law, and he refuses to
rely on the covenant of grace based on love which supplan-
ted it. Perhaps the most confusing aspect of this motif of the play
lies in the fact that Brand bases his rejection of this New
Testament love, not on theology he explicitly admires the
strength of God's love in refusing to alleviate Jesus' suffering in
Gethsemene but on the feeble manifestations of love in the life
and religion of the people around him. Thus, there is a persistent
element of the conscious "nay-sayer" in Brand. He attacks the
Church for what it has done to the demanding love which God
promulgated in the New Testament; ironically, in doing so he
demonstrates time and again that he, too, does not really under-
stand the nature of this love, for he allows his apprehension of it
to dehumanize him, rather than to fulfill him. This confusion ex-
plains Brand's deep-seated affinity for the Old Testament; he has
yet to experience God as love, but he is irreversibly bound to the
Judeo-Christian tradition. Just as the Old Testament prophets
were bound and restricted by the extent of their revelation, so
Brand is bound and restricted by his.

This limitation is severely challenged by the suffering ex-
perienced in the fourth act. The entire sphere of Brand's func-
tioning in this act is an expansion of his Old Testament ap-
prehension of God. Agnes delineates the hardness of his God (p.
120), and Brand, himself, declares his pre-Christian view of man
when he says, "a man is made/ To carry out the duty of mankind./
His aim is to attain to Paradise" (p. 125). The notion that a man
is able to attain Paradise contradicts the entire import of the
New Testament message of salvation as the gracious gift of God.
The gulf between Brand's position and even a nominally
Christian one becomes more obvious a few lines later, when
Brand exclaims to the Sheriff, "But surely black can never
turn to white!" (p. 125) In traditional religious language this is a
frequent metaphor for the effect of the Atonement, but it is
literally incomprehensible to Brand. The terrible suffering which
Brand inflicts on Agnes in the fourth act is another manifestation

of the limited nature of his apprehension of God. Since Brand is
obviously not a sadist, it must be remembered that, because he
loves her, her suffering causes him pain as well. But the rigors of
his legalistic religion require him to persist in applying his "all or
nothing" standard to her. The result of this process is that Agnes
achieves a momentary sense of triumph, but that she must pay for
it with her life. Ibsen here does not rely on mere allusion to the
Old Testament, but he has Agnes quote to Brand the Old
Testament admonition, "No one may look upon God's face and
live" (p. 151). The mere fact that they consider this precept still
operative within their lives as an inevitable corollary of certain
actions effectively denies the complete theological meaning of the
Incarnation. In the Old Testament economy, to see God was to
die; in the New Testament era, God became man, and through
His physical death and resurrection He obviated death for man.
Thus, for Brand, the price of persistence continues to mount. His
suffering, akin to Old Testament tribulations, cannot be ex-
piatory, but can only prepare him for his experiencing of God as
love. In this light, his use of the New Testament paradox, "Only
what's lost for ever is retained," (p. 152) becomes a part of his
quietly desperate attempt to rationalize the calamity of his life.

The long last act of Brand is the most critical to a reading
which concentrates on the use of religious language. The sub-
stance of the act begins with Brand's confrontation with the
Dean. In one sense, the Dean is the personification of the
organized religion which Brand has been fighting. In another
sense, however, the Dean is a representative of an order of belief
totally foreign to Brand, in that the Dean is a distinctly if
politically Christian figure. The weakness of the Dean's
position, and the fact of Brand's total inability to grasp Christian
doctrine, is reiterated when Brand questions, "Unless a man is
dead, he can't be used?" (p. 173) The Dean's ostensible rejection
of this notion curiously coincides with Brand's confused expan-
sion of it: "He has to have all his life drained away,/ Only a stif-
fened skeleton can suit/ The pale, anaemic sort of life you ask,"
(p. 173) for both of them fail to grasp the true meaning of Jesus'
admonition. But, whereas this lack of understanding is a severe
indictment of the Dean, the nominally Christian man, for Brand
it merely serves to measure again the gap between him and the
attainment of New Testament faith. Appropriately, then, Brand
verbalizes his attack on the Dean (cf. p. 173) in a series of Old
Testament allusions.

The Dean's closing attack on Brand (cf. pp. 174-75) is one of
the most crucial speeches in the play. He attacks the egoism and
hard selfishness which, as has been shown, have been a central,
driving force in Brand's program of reform. With the central ob-
servation, "You must become as smooth as others are,/ And never
stray along your private path," (p. 174) the Dean ostensibly
presents Brand with the formula for ecclesiastical-political suc-
cess, but Brand apprehends a much more telling truth in the

Dean's words. When the Dean leaves, the stage directions in-
dicate that Brand stands "as if petrified by his thoughts": he then
expresses his thoughts in the words, "All I have sacrificed upon
the shrine/ Of what I blindly deemed the call of God!/ Now rings
a blast from the dread trump of doom,/ To show me who the
spirit was I served" (p. 175). He then determines still, charac-
teristically, willfully "They shall not have my soul," (p. 175)
but he closes his speech with a despairing and uncharac-
teristically dependent "Oh, could I meet with one believing
soul,/ To give me confidence to bring me calm!" (p. 176) Thus
Brand undergoes a change which is really a reversal. Rather than
the self-assured, self-centered, prophet-like figure of the first por-
tions of the play, he is now a seeker, one who has the potential to
discover true faith because he is open to it.

The following scene with the reformed Einar serves two im-
portant functions. In the first place, it confronts Brand with an
embodiment of the heartless, dehumanized Christianity which
could become the end of his new quest. Secondly, his rejection of
this alternative reassures him in the strength of his individual in-
tegrity. When he says, "That was the man I needed: now all ties/
Are severed, I will fly my flag myself," (p. 179) he is asserting
once more his own strength, but he is asserting it with the dif-
ference that he is now primarily concerned with the state of his
own soul, and no longer obsessed with his scheme of attaining ex-
ternal religious successes.

This transformed understanding in Brand is concretized in
the symbol of the new church. In one sense this edifice represents
the ultimate material payment Brand makes to his own sense of
inherited guilt, for he uses all of the money he has inherited from
his mother to build it. Yet, he has ostensibly built it because the
former church was too small and tradition-laden to allow the
worshippers an appropriate sense of freedom in their worship.
Only after the Dean's attack and the confrontation with Einar
does Brand realize how he has used the new building for his own
purposes; he is then able to regain a measure of his original sense
of mission and to tell his parishioners, "I was too blind to see it
was a case/ Of everything or nothing ... I tell you, men,/ The
spirit of compromise is Satan's self (p. 184); he then urges upon
them a vision which encompasses "soaring flights on high among
the stars,/ And children playing around the Christmas tree,/ And
David's royal dance before the ark" (p. 184). The very ver-
balization of this vision underscores the groping, tentative nature
of it. It is too all-encompassing to mean anything in particular.
This does not inhibit its rhetorical effectiveness, however, for the
crowd is passionately moved. The irony of the people's sentiment
and a foreshadowing of the inevitable course their fervor will
run occurs in the language of their ecstasy. As the people begin
to follow Brand out of the valley, they dismiss the practical
although spitefully motivated challenges of the Sheriff and the
Dean by reminding them, "Manna was granted, from the dew of

heaven,/ To Israel in the wilderness!" (p. 186) Thus, precisely at
the moment when Brand has begun to redefine the nature of his
mission and to relinquish the assurance of consistently Old
Testament imagery, the people who follow him misunderstand
him profoundly enough to begin to see themselves and their
mission in Old Testament terms. What ensues is inevitable.

The disillusionment which the people suffer and their
outraged attack on Brand are consequences of the deep misun-
derstanding which has been anticipated in the clashing imagery
of the speeches. Throughout the early parts of the second scene,
the people fit consistently into their identity with the wandering
Israelites by complaining, grumbling and objecting.
Simultaneously, they also echo the words of the would-be
followers of Jesus who hedged in their commitment to his "sell all
thou hast" dictum. Brand's identity at this point has lost enough
of its original character that he begins to assume the bifurcated
role of part prophet, part Christ-like figure. His message is still
not Christian, but it has modified. The emphasis on will is still
present, but the "Nought or All" summons is no longer Brand's
but God's. Brand's association with a Christ-like figure is further
emphasized when the people who have looked to him in an-
ticipation of a temporal triumph reject him "cheated tricked
betrayed, betrayed!" (p. 189) when they realize the spiritual
nature of the conquest he is proposing. Like the Jews of Palm
Sunday, the villagers turn upon Brand when he formulates his
campaign in terms of "God's call" and lost souls (p. 196) rather
than social and political revolution.

Only after Brand has been driven "bruised and bleeding" (p.
196) into the solitary heights of the mountains, does he undergo
the conversion which is the previously unarticulated object of his
quest. In his long soliloquy opening the last scene Brand men-
tions for the first time, "One [who] once suffered death to save
them all," (p. 197) and his soliloquy then veers off on a long con-
sideration of the relationship between the ineffective, cowardly
faith of his countrymen and their paralysis in contemporary inter-
national events. With the questions, "And has that image of God,
in which mankind/ Was fashioned, been forgotten or lost?/ Can
our Creator's spirit know defeat?" (p. 201), Brand initiates the
closing sequence of the play.

Downs has noted 6 the visionary aspects of this closing
sequence, but he has not developed the idea completely enough to
explain the transformation Brand undergoes. It is true, as Downs
points out, that the appearance of Agnes is visionary because she
is a projection from Brand's subconscious. It is also true that
Gerd is actually present because she was seen by the others
following Brand in his ascent. What Downs overlooks is the brief
use of the heavenly chorus to introduce the phantom of Agnes. It
would appear, on first examination, that the chorus has an objec-
tive reality because, unlike Agnes, there is nothing in Brand's
subconscious which he could project in order to create it.

However, seen in the context, it becomes apparent that the voices
respond to Brand's questions in a way which indicates that they
are essentially projections of his conscience. Brand has reached a
state of still-faithless isolation and despair, and his conscience, as
well as his subconscious, works to deepen his mood. It is
supremely ironic that these forces drive Brand to a state such as
Einar, in his pompous, dehumanized, converted self, described as
his own condition just before his conversion. The positive aspect
of the irony in Brand's situation is that his conversion also begins
to emerge from the despair.

In the context of this conversion process, then, the vision of
Agnes becomes a temptation, tempting Brand to persist in doting
on his former self and its errors, rather than allowing him to pur-
sue his quest. Brand, himself, realizes this when, after the phan-
tom has assumed the form of a hawk and abandoned him, he
says, "Now I see !/ That phantom was the Spirit of Com-
promise!" (p. 206) As if to affirm the accuracy of this conclusion,
Gerd enters the scene, claiming to have seen the hawk depart,
and proposing that they hunt him together.

The proposed hunt is delayed when Gerd looks closely at the
wounded Brand. From the nature of his wounds, which resemble
the stigmata, the demented girl suddenly concludes that Brand is
Christ: "it is you who were the Crucified" (p. 207). Brand rejects
this blasphemous idea by significantly quoting (the line is
printed as a quotation in the play) Jesus' rebuke to Peter, "Get
thee behind me" (p. 207). The inclusion of such a startling event
so late in the play must be carefully understood. It is accurate
if superficial to say that Gerd is presenting Brand with another
temptation which he overcomes. But it is far more important to
notice Brand's status at this point; it is also necessary to insist
upon the distinction between Christ-likeness and a Christ-
figure. Brand's wounds, as well as some of the preceding events,
could indicate either identification, but the context of the play
precludes the latter alternative, for, within a few lines, Brand,
himself, prays to Jesus (p. 208). Thus, the necessary conclusion
about Brand at this point of the play is that he is developing
greater and more explicit Christ-likeness, e.g. he is drawing ever
nearer to the moment of his conversion. His human nature as
visualized by his physical self is being prepared for transfor-
mation.

When Gerd invites Brand to the Ice Church, his sense of
despair at his totally isolated position manifests itself in his lines,
"O that I were a thousand miles away!/ How desperately I long
for light and sun,/ Kindliness, and the sabbath calm of peace . . ."
(p. 208). This is immediately followed by his weeping, penitential
prayer:

O Jesus, I have called upon Thy name,

But Thou has never clasped me to Thy breast:

Thou has been near to me, yet hast glided past,

As slips a well-known word upon the tongue.

Oh, let me now touch but the paltry hem

Of thy redeeming mantle,

Which is dipped

In the true wine of penitence! (p. 208)

When Gerd questions why he has never wept before, the tone as
well as the substance of Brand's reply indicates that Brand has
experienced a conversion. Ibsen's stage directions indicate that
Brand replies, "in a clear, radiant voice, as if rejuvenated, " (p.
208) and Brand's words chronicle, in capsule form, the process of
the entire play:

Man treads the path of law through frosty days;

But then comes summer, and the light from heaven.

Till now, it was my duty to become

The stony table on which God writes His laws;

But from today the poetry of my life

Shall run meandering in warm pleasant streams:

Its icy crust is broken, I can weep,

And I can kneel, and I can pray at last! (pp. 208-09)

The final moments of the play concern the reappearance of
the hawk, and the avalanche caused by Gerd's shooting of the
bird. Previously, Brand had recognized the hawk as a temptation,
the spirit of compromise, and he had called it a hawk, but when
Gerd shoots the bird and it begins to fall, she says, "Why, he is
white as white as any dove" (p. 209). The transformation of the
hawk is a result of Brand's conversion. The dove is the
traditional embodiment of the Holy Spirit; therefore, the hawk of
compromising temptation is now recognized as really being the
dove of God's spirit, which has alternately driven and led Brand
to his conversion. The avalanche is, in a literal sense, an accident
the result of a gun-shot vibrating the loose snow. Brand had
previously anticipated a whole new life (see above), but he falls
victim to the avalanche. It is most incompatible with the text to
attempt to render the avalanche as a form of judgment on Brand,
for even in the midst of it his new-found faith persists, and, in his
final speech, he addresses God concerning the problem which,
had he lived, would have most occupied his attempt to under-
stand and to reconcile his new and old ways of life: "Answer me,
God, here in the jaws of death./ Can the full measure of a human
will/ Weigh not an atom in the scales of heaven/ Toward his
soul's salvation?" (p. 209) The success of Brand's prayer the
proof that it was heard is found in the ambiguous answer
ringing out over the roar of the avalanche, "He is the God of
Love." 7 The ambiguity of this statement does not lie, as many ap-
pear to think, in whether it is a censuring of Brand or a vin-
dication of him; the ambiguity lies in the fact that it is not a
direct answer to a very direct question. Cast in the light of the
career and experience of Brand, however, the implication of the

reply appears to be that, if a human will firmly persists in seeking
God, God, in His love, will redirect that will even if it means
virtually breaking it until it recognizes that, in order to
properly serve Him, love must provide the basis for any exercise
of will. This is what Brand has learned.

Thus, in the last act, the shifts in religious language and
imagery reflect the changes taking place within Brand. In the
final act the nature of the religious language evolves from con-
sistently Old Testament imagery to New Testament concern with
repentence, prayer, and love.

A reading of the play from the perspective of its use of
religious language is not definitive; however, it appears to con-
front the primary issues of the play in the terms in which they
confront the title character. As such, the religious images reflect
the changing nature of the main character, and chronicle his
progress from an Old Testament prophet to a New Testament
Christian. Simultaneously, the religious language allows fuller
appreciation of the sheer human strength of the character as he
persists in his quest. Combined, these elements perhaps clarify
why Ibsen liked to think that Brand was himself "in [his] best
moments."

NOTES

Almost everyone who writes on Brand, whether in a book or an article, men-
tions the great effect of its success on Ibsen's career. For example: M. C. Brad-
brook, in Ibsen the Norwegian (London: Chatto & Windus, 1948), says that Ibsen
"attained security and success with Brand" (p. 7); Theodore Jorgensen, in Henrik
Ibsen: A Study in Art and Personality (Northfield, Minn.: St. Olaf College Press,
1945), also acknowledges the importance of the play in Ibsen's career; Halvdan
Koht, in his standard The Life of Ibsen (London: American Scandinavian Foun-
dation, 1931), suggests that the moral impact of Brand in Norwegian culture was
almost an historic turning point for the nation, as well as for Ibsen; and George
Brandes, in Henrik Ibsen, A Critical Study (New York: Benjamin Blom, Inc.,
1964), says "[Brand] was a book which left no reader cold." (p. 21).

2 Halvdan Koht, The Life of Ibsen (London: American Scandinavian Foun-
dation, 1931), p. 260.

3 Henrik Ibsen, Brand, trans, by G. M. Gathorne-Hardy (Seattle: University of
Washington Press, 1966). Specific references to play noted in text.

4 George Brandes, Henrik Ibsen, A Critical Study (New York: Benjamin Blom,
Inc., 1964), p. 70.

5 Gathorne-Hardy, Introduction, p. 21. Although the influence of Kierkegaard
on Ibsen's thought at the time of the composition of Brand is important, the
present essay is not concerned with such extra-textual speculations. Rather, I
believe the use in the play of language from one source the Bible demon-
strates an important way of reading the play. Whether this reading in turn
suggests anything about Ibsen's own philosophical or religious positions remains,
of course, mere speculation. Indeed, to posit any Ibsenian positions based on
evidence from the play strikes me as the type of deduction which argues that Nora
(of A Doll's House) demonstrates Ibsen's defense of radical feminism.

6 Brian Downs, A Study of Six Plays by Ibsen (Cambridge: Cambridge Univer-
sity Press, 1950), p. 33 ff.

7 Henrik Ibsen, Brand, trans, by Michael Meyer (New York: Doubleday & Co.,
1960), p. 157. This translation was used at this point because it is a more literal
rendering of the Norwegian.

THE INTENT AND IMPORTANCE OF BLACK STUDIES
Randolph Fisher

Black studies become increasingly popular, hence growingly
important. So much so that Nick Aaron Ford, a charter member
of the National Council of Teachers of English Commission on
the Profession, feels that they lie "at the bottom of the greatest
crisis that has confronted higher education in this century."
Whether they are called black studies or black literature or
Negro literature or Afro-American or African-American or
Africana Studies and Research Center depends upon where the
program is and whose program it is. And so long as it is a
systematic and honest study of the Negro in American history and
society, it finds a place in the academic program. Although there
are many definitions of black studies and considerable
disagreement among scholars as to their value, students across
the country are demanding that their schools (white and black)
establish black studies programs immediately. The schools are
responding with attention-compelling haste.

Harvard University, for example, has established a new
Department of Afro-American Studies, which, broadly based,
covers the life of black America in all its major facets. It is staffed
by Ewart Guinier (chairman) and eight other Negroes. The of-
ferings range from the history of black people in Africa and the
Caribbean to courses on the role of the modern black community
in organized labor and politics, an in-depth study of Boston's
black community, and the philosophy and critiques of the black
movement, as well as African art and Afro-American Poetry and
thought. Sophomore tutorial students concentrating on the Afro-
American experience will encompass the politics of black Africa
and its role in the United Nations, economic differentials between
groups in the United States, the black church, the urban ghettos,
black literature, black liberation, and white liberalism. Harvard
is offering seven Afro-American courses this fall semester; ten
more courses are scheduled for the spring, with other courses of-
fered in related fields such as black literature, urban politics, and
the economics of discrimination. No attendance is taken but up to
150 students attend seminars.

Brown University and Pembroke College inaugurated a
Black Studies Program this year. Already 300 students, most of
them white, are enrolled in two courses. More courses are plan-
ned for next semester.

New York University's new Institute of Afro-American Af-
fairs is headed by Roscoe C. Brown, Jr. The program to be
developed by the Institute will attempt to identify and analyze
the contributions, problems, and aspirations of Americans of
African descent. The Institute has an education program in-
volving lectures, seminars, conferences, and courses in black
studies offered in collaboration with various schools and colleges
of the University. Presently the University offers more than

twenty individual courses in the area of black studies, ranging
from black African government and politics to race and the news
media. A research program, including various aspects of
economics, history, literature, art, education, politics, and other
areas of concern to Afro-Americans, is being considered. Black
scholars provide the intellectual leadership in the investigation of
areas of concern to black people, although white scholars are also
involved.

The State University of New York at Albany has a degree-
granting Department of Afro-American Studies, which offers thir-
teen black-oriented courses. The courses are open to all students
at the University. A graduate level program of Afro-American
Studies is expected to become operative as of the 1970-71 school
year.

Syracuse University has selected John Johnson to establish
its academic program of Afro-American Studies. As to his aim
Johnson said: "Afro-American Studies for me represent one of the
most exciting ventures into education. For the students at
Syracuse University, on the one hand, it will represent a chance
to understand the experience of black people in America, and, on
the other hand, it will provide a step forward for the education of
black people themselves. One of our highest priorities will be
research and scholarship."

Dartmouth College has chosen an alumnus, Robert G.
McGuire, III as coordinator of its first interdepartmental Black
Studies Program. It is designed to help make the college
curriculum meet relevant social and individual needs. The
Program consists of core courses, seminars, and field trips in a
wide range of subjects relating to the life and history of blacks in
the United States. It is open to all Dartmouth upper-classmen.
The Program is geared to eleven upper-level courses selected last
year by a faculty committee from the Dartmouth catalog. The
committee, working closely with the College's Afro-American
Society, developed five new courses which are now being offered.
Disagreement among scholars as to the intent and importance of
black studies is underscored by McGuire: "The idea of black
studies is being approved now by faculties, here as elsewhere, but
the implications of the programs have not yet really been
clarified ... If we can get a new world view by being more honest
about our deficiencies and more receptive to different values,
hopefully we will come up with more viable solutions to national
and world problems."

Brandeis University, whose Afro-American Department is
chaired by Ronald Walters, has eighty-one students in ten black
studies courses. Allegheny Community College (Pittsburgh) has
only two courses in Black Studies and they are crowded. DePaul
University offers twenty-four courses in Black Studies, which
draw more and more students.

Tougaloo College requires freshmen to take a social science
seminar which includes some black studies. Moreover two hun-

dred of the seven hundred students enrolled in this predominan-
tly black college also attend upper-level courses dealing with
Afro-American literature and race relations.

The University of California at Santa Barbara hurriedly set
up a Black Studies Department last summer. The courses were
not in the catalog, but on mimeographed sheets. Yet eighty-three
students enrolled for Black Studies and the enrollment increases.
Michigan State University offers a course called "Black Political
Movements." It was designed for fifty students, but over two hun-
dred have applied for admission. Lincoln University (Missouri)
offers a minor in Afro-American Studies under the Department of
History and Government. Howard University has established a
Department of Afro-American Studies with a $146,000 Ford
Foundation grant. Howard will offer a Doctor of Philosophy
program in Afro-American Studies.

What's happening? What's going on? Why this astounding
and unceasing demand for information about black people? An-
swers are many and varied. One is white students. Certainly the
high enrollment of white students in black studies courses is to
some extent explained by the higher number of white enrollment
in schools generally. That means several things one of which is
that Black Studies are designed not only to meet the needs of
black students, but also to meet the needs of white students.
"Although there is an increasing number of blacks at Syracuse,"
comments John Johnson, "the whites are still in the majority and
will continue to be, so any program must be geared to the
majority. Black refers to who is being studied, not who is studying
or who is teaching the course." Another reason comes from
Georgia Henderson of the University of Oklahoma: "A lot of this
is a search (by whites) for more information about black culture.
In their early years students didn't get an accurate portrayal of
black people. Now they want to do something about it." Perhaps
the basic reason is that more and more black students have en-
tered white colleges and universities during recent years. Their
strange and sometimes hostile environment has made par-
ticularly urgent their need for authentic information as to where
they came from, where they are going, why, and how to get there.

And so, as to intent, black studies are attempting to clarify
the black experience, to make a systematic and honest study of
the Negro in American history and society. As to importance,
black studies are a necessary unit of American studies. Firmly
established in academic programs across the country, black
studies apparently will be here on through the years.

SOME EFFECTS OF THE APPLICATION OF COMPUTER

ASSISTED MASTERY LEARNING TECHNIQUES

ON BLACK COLLEGE STUDENTS

John W. Greene, Ph.D

and
Charles W. Moore, M.A.

The use of the computer to complement existing instructional
programs is now almost common-place among American colleges
and universities (Lippert, 1971). Technical developments in com-
puter assisted instruction (CAI) have demonstrated a great
potential for large scale individualized instructional support for
which the time-shared computer is uniquely suited (Lekan, 1971).

However, progress in writing instructional programs under
CAI systems has not kept pace with technical developments
(DeCecco, 1968). In particular, research concerned with the in-
struction of Black or other minority students is lacking, although
research efforts have been directed toward programmed instruc-
tion and mastery learning.

Serious exploration of CAI and its ramifications as a tool of
instruction for Black college students is virtually non-existent.
Some first steps in this direction have been taken at Howard
University (OCS, 1971, 1973). A review of CAI research activities
at other universities across the country does not support a
promise of strong CAI research activity involving Blacks outside
of the Black campus (Lekan, 1971).

Research on the two principal approaches to programmed in-
struction and, in particular, on their relative validity has been
conducted. Coulson and Silberman (1959) reported that when the
performance of junior college students using the Holland-Skinner
constructed response programmed instruction technique was com-
pared with their performance using the Crowder multiple choice
technique, no significant difference in post test scores was found.
Evans, in 1960, during his experiment with symbolic logic (Fry,
1963), and Roe, also, in 1960, while teaching probability to
engineering students with these two principal programmed in-
struction types both found no significant difference in post test
scores. In a fourth study, however, Fry in 1960, teaching Spanish
words and phrases to high school students, found a significant
difference in favor of students using a constructed response
program over those using multiple choice items (Fry, 1963). But,
when a multiple choice type of post test was used, the difference
was not significant. Thus, it appears that the two types of
programmed instruction do not significantly differ in effec-
tiveness.

During an investigation of a strategy for mastery learning,
Bloom found that 90 percent of the students achieved mastery of
given material when instruction was made appropraite to the

characteristics and needs of each student (Bloom, 1968a). This
study utilized frequent detailed evaluations and diagnostic
techniques as well as prescriptive feedback within its operating
procedures. The study was supported by the earlier work of
Carroll in 1963 on whose classic model strategy for mastery lear-
ning Bloom's work was based (Bloom, 1968b).

An overview of these investigations suggested the query: How
might a computer assisted mastery learning strategy affect the
performance of Black college students? More precisely, how
might a mastery learning strategy within a given discipline and
for the achievement of a specific instructional objective in a CAI
environment affect the performance of Black college students?

The purpose of this study, then, was to investigate the effects
of the application of a mastery learning strategy in mathematics
instruction within a CAI environment on Black college students.
In particular, the experiment investigated the "time to mastery"
differences among Black college students in proving a minor
theorem in number theory which might result from the ap-
plication of such an instrument.

The null hypothesis was stated as follows: The "time to
mastery" in proving a minor theorem by an experimental group
using a mastery learning strategy within a CAI environment will
not differ significantly from that of a control group exposed to
traditional instruction.

The study was conducted over a five day period both in a
standard classroom and in a computer laboratory. The subjects
were twenty Black sophomore and junior mathematics and
engineering majors of both sexes currently enrolled in Howard
University. The twenty students ranged in age from 18 to 22
years. The students were assigned numbers randomly as they
arrived for the experiment. The median was computed for these
numbers and the subjects with numbers greater than the median
were designated control group; the remaining students were
assigned to the experimental group. Thus, each group consisted of
ten subjects.

The investigator developed a computer assisted programmed
instruction instrument based on a minor theorem in number
theory which had been treated in an intrinsic program sequence
by Norman Crowder (Fry, 1963b). Since research cited earlier in-
dicated that neither of the two principal programmed instruction
types was significantly superior to the other in effectiveness, this
investigator arbitrarily chose the Crowder method to use in the
study.

The Crowder program was transformed into a conversational
computer program written in the BASIC language and placed un-
der the Howard University CALL/360 Timesharing System. Cer-
tain modifications were made in the content and flow of the
Crowder program during transformation although its basic in-
tegrity was preserved. These modifications demanded by an
adherence to mastery learning concepts, were introduced to

provide greater feedback to the student and additional ex-
planation of "branched" material. Additional programming
provisions measured each subject's cumulative elapsed time while
using the program. Access to the instrument was provided
through interactive typewriter-like terminals. The instrument
was conversational, thus, allowing subjects to be provided with
immediate reward and feedback.

In one session both the control and experimental groups were
given 20 minutes of instruction which covered approaches to
mathematical proofs (Polya, 1957). Each group was given the
statement of the theorem to be proved and an illustration of its
application. The theorem and its proof are provided in the appen-
dix. Subjects in the control group were provided with paper and
pencil and told to prove the theorem. Subjects in the experimen-
tal group were given 5 minutes of instruction in the use of the in-
teractive terminals and told to prove the theorem at the terminal.
Both groups were told to work through to completion of the proof.

The results of the performance of each subject was evaluated
and the cumulative elapsed time for each subject was recorded.
The mean time to mastery for each group was computed and the
difference between these means was tested for significance using
the Student t ratio as outlined in Anderson and Bancroft (1952).

All subjects completed the proof of the theorem. The mean
times to mastery for each group are presented in Table 1.

TABLE 1

T-Test for Mean Time to Mastery in Minutes
of Experimental and Control Groups

Means Computed Critical Value (.01)

Control 39.3

Experimental 19.7

-3.1215 2.552

The time to mastery in the control group ranged from 18 to
85 minutes while the range in the experimental group was 13 to
27 minutes. The standard deviations were 19.2933 and 4.6916 for
the control and experimental groups respectively. When the dif-
ference between the two mean times to mastery was tested, it was
found to be not significant at the .01 level (Anderson and Ban-
croft, 1952b). Thus, the null hypothesis was not rejected.

Although the null hypothesis was not rejected the nearly 2 to
1 difference in mean scores indicate that there is considerable
merit to the use of a mastery learning strategy within a CAI en-
vironment and this instrument as an aid to mathematical instruc-
tion is a useful alternative to the use of the lecture method alone.
In addition, these results demonstrated that this instrument is an
effective instructional aid to Black college students.

Several questions may be posed as a result of this study: How
effective is the instrument with larger groups of students? How
might this technique be utilized in other areas of the mathematics
curriculum or within other academic disciplines? What are the
implications of the application of this technique to Black
students with known academic deficiencies? As a result of the
substantial savings in instruction time, how might course
scheduling and curriculum be affected? How cost-effective is this
technique when measured against more traditional instructional
techniques?

Hopefully, the results of this study will encourage further
serious exploration of the use of this and similar techniques in
support of instructional objectives of college curricula.

APPENDIX 1

Theorem:

Let N be any odd integer such that N 1.
Then,

N2-1
is divisible by 8.
Proof:

Since N is odd, then set N =2M+1 where M is an integer.
Hence,

N2-1 =(2M+ 1) 2 -1
=4M 2 + 4M .
But now,

N 2 -l =4(M 2 + M)
is clearly divisible by 4 and it remains to be shown that M 2 + M is
divisible by 2.

If M is odd, then M 2 is odd. Also, M 2 + M is even since the sum of
odd integers is even.

If M is even, then M 2 is even. Also, M 2 + M is even since the sum
of even integers is even.

Thus, M 2 + M is even and is divisible by 2. The theorem follows.

APPENDIX 2

Time to Mastery (in Minutes)
Control Experimental

23 16

18 24

42 13

22 18

50 27

38 20

85 14

45 18

30 23

40 24

REFERENCES

Anderson, R. L. and T. A. Bancroft, Statistical Theory in Research, New York:

McGraw-Hill Book Company, Inc., 1952 (a) p. 81; (b) p. 385.
Bloom, Benjamin S., "Learning for Mastery", RELCV Topical Papers and

Reprints, No. 1, (1968) (a) p. 10; (b) p. 2.
Coulson, J. E. and H. F. Silberman, "Results of Initial Experiment and

Automated Teaching," Santa Monica, California: System Development

Corporation, July, 1959.
"CAI - Systems and Projects", Automated Education Letter, No. 1, Detroit:

Automated Education Center, 1966, pp. 3-13.
DeCecco, John P., The Psychology of Learning and Instruction: Educational

Psychology, New Jersey: Prentice Hall, Inc., 1968, p. 538.
Fry, Edward B., Teaching Machines and Programmed Instruction, New York:

McGraw-Hill Book Company, Inc., 1963, (a) pp. 103-104; (b) pp. 225-239.
Lekan, Helen A., Index to Computer Assisted Instruction, Harcourt Brace

Jovanovich, Inc., New York, 1971.
Roe, A., "Automated Teaching Methods Using Linear Programs", Department of

Engineering Report, Los Angeles: University of California, 1960.
Polya, G., How To Solve It, Garden City, New York: Doubleday Anchor Books,

1957, pp. 33-36.
"CAI Festival at Howard University", OCS PRINTOUT, Vol IV, No. 1,

Washington, D. C: Howard University Office of Computer Services, 1971, p. 2.
"Time Sharing System Scorecard A Survey of On-Line Multiple User Computer

Systems", No. 2, Belmont, Mass.: Computer Research Corporation (CRC),

1965, pp. 1-4.
Lippert, Henry T., "Computer Support of Instruction and Student Services in a

College or University", Educational Technology, May 1971, pp. 40-43.
"OCS Seeks Full CAI Program", OCS PRINTOUT, Vol. V, No. 1, Washington, D.

C: Howard University Office of Computer Services, 1973, p. 2.

THE LEGAL QUEST BY THE AMERICAN NEGRO

FOR EQUAL EDUCATIONAL OPPORTUNITY

By Prince A. Jackson, Jr., Ph.D.

In the year 55 B.C., Marcus Tullius Cicero published his
great work, De Oratore, which contained what he considered to
be the basic principles necessary for an orator's education. One of
these principles, which the writer considers to be most apropos to
this paper is:

Nescire autem quid antequam notus sis acciderit, id est
semper esse puerum. 1

(To be unaware of what occurred before you were born is
to remain a boy always.)

Never before in the history of Black Americans has the value
of a knowledge of their past been so vital to their survival. Many
Blacks are learning for the first time that their forefathers had
developed advanced civilizations millennia ago in which Black
was not only beautiful, but the only color. After more than 350
years of exposure to an extrinsic culture designed to obliterate the
magnificent past, it is time for a close examination of certain
aspects of the struggle of Black Americans since the year 1619. It
is significant as well as disquieting to come to the realization that
no liberty or privilege enjoyed by other Americans, natural or
naturalized, came to Black Americans except through legal chan-
nels. Even today in 1973, it is still necessary for Blacks to go to
court for liberties other Americans take for granted. Thus, it is
necessary that all Americans become aware of the role of the law
in the survival of Black Americans in the past so they can chart a
better future. This paper is concerned with the legal quest for
equal educational opportunities by a suppressed American
minority.

The struggle for equal educational opportunity has been a
life-long fight of the American Negro. Although gains have been
many and tremendous, equal educational opportunity is yet to be
accomplished and the great struggle for it continues. Blacks have
not been alone in this quest. From the introduction of slavery into
the colonies there have been whites who have made it their moral
obligation to arouse the conscience of the nation concerning the
many massive problems of the Negro. Another ally of the Negro
in this struggle, perhaps the most powerful, has been the Federal
government. Without the active role of the Federal government, it
is inconceivable that the progress of the Negro in his quest for
equal educational opportunity would have achieved its present
status.

'Marcus Tullius Cicero, De Oratore, XXXIV (55 B.C.) Cicero's impact on
Romans was legendary. The great Roman educator Marcus Fabius Quintilianus
advised his students "ut quisque erit Ciceroni simillimus" (to study other authors
only in so far as they resemble Cicero).

The quest for equal educational opportunity can be divided
into four distinct periods. The first period extended from 1806 to
1896. It was during this period that the groundwork was laid for
the enunication of the "separate but equal" doctrine, and during
this period the first case involving the "separate but equal" doc-
trine was argued in a court in Boston, Massachusetts. The Dred
Scott case was also arbitrated during this period and the first
civil rights bill enacted by the Congress was ruled uncon-
stitutional.

The second period was from 1896 to 1935. During this period
the decisions involving Negroes and whites were adjudicated on
the basis of the "separate but equal" doctrine. There were only a
few cases involving education during this period, because Negro
education was in its embryonic stages and Negroes were not
prepared educationally to initiate test cases to challenge the doc-
trine.

The third period began in 1935 and ended in 1954. It was
during this period that the decisions of the courts eroded the
"separate but equal" doctrine by making it more difficult for the
states maintaining dual school systems to prove that the facilities
provided for Negroes were substantially equal to those provided
for whites. This period was most active with test cases, because
Negroes were prepared educationally to compete academically in
the professional and graduate schools maintained for whites.

The fourth period began May 17, 1954 with the demise of the
"separate but equal" doctrine. In the more than eighteen years
since the 1954 decision, the resistance to operating dual school
systems has continued. While recognizing that there is no longer a
legal basis for the separation of the races in public education,
many of the affected states have continued their search and ef-
forts to delay the effects of the decision as long as possible. Then
too, these efforts have been enhanced by the growing number of
Blacks who have become disenchanted with integration because
of the many recent injustices suffered such as the loss of jobs by
Black professionals and the systematic obliteration of Black
achievement symbols from local school systems.

This paper will deal briefly with the first two periods and in
detail with the latter two. The conclusion will pose vexatious
questions which have come to the fore during the late sixties and
which must be answered in the seventies.

The Establishment of the "Separate but Equal" Doctrine

The logical place to begin an examination of the American
Negro's quest for equality in all phases of American life is the
year 1808. Prior to 1808, the Federal government made the begin-
ning of what was to become a long series of interventions in the
destiny of Blacks. This initial intervention was the prohibition of
the importation of slaves. 2 The first part of the act made it illegal

2 U.S., Statutes at Large, II, 426.

to bring Blacks into the country for the purpose of selling or
holding them as slaves.

The Congress went one step further in the second section of
the act and prohibited citizens from taking part in any activity
that might tend to frustrate the intentions of the first section of
the act.

While this act signaled a change in attitude in the young
country toward the issue of legal involuntary servitude, Blacks
were still looked upon as being different from other human
beings. This was demonstrated in the first case in which
segregation in education was argued in Boston, Massachusetts.

Sarah Roberts, a Negro child of Boston, Massachusetts,
sought admission to a white school, 1,300 feet closer to her door
step than the closest colored school. Her request was refused by
the Boston School Committee. Charles Summer argued her case
before the Massachusetts Supreme Court. The Court ruled that
the increased distance to which the child was obliged to go was
not unreasonable nor illegal. 3 This decision was the first enun-
ciation of the "separate but equal" doctrine and predated the
celebrated 1896 Plessy v. Ferguson decision by 48 years.

The fight for equality reached its lowest point in 1854. Dred
Scott, a slave, sued for his freedom after his master took him to
the free territory of Minnesota and the free state of Illinois. 4 The
case reached the United States Supreme Court and Mr. Justice
Taney delivered the opinion of the Court which said in part:

It is obvious that they were not ever in the minds of the
framers of the constitution when they were conferring
special rights and privileges upon the citizens of a state
in every other part of the union. 2

The decision was momentous. Slavery now had legal sanc-
tion. The wording of the decision clearly indicated that the Negro
was a separate class and that the framers of the Constitution
never had him in mind when they accorded rights and privileges
to citizens of the various states. This meant that, whether eman-
cipated or not, the Negro could not become a citizen by natural
rights. This was the low point in the Negro's quest for eventual
equality. 5

A little more than eight years after the Scott decision,
President Abraham Lincoln signed the Emancipation
Proclamation to be issued on January 1, 1863, to free the slaves.
It proclaimed in part:

Whereas on the 22nd day of September, A.D. 1862, a
proclamation was issued by the President of the United

3 Roberts v. City of Boston, 59 Mass. 198 (1849).
4 Scott v. Sanford, 19 Howard 393 (1857).

5 Harvey Wish, Society and Thought in Early America (New York: McKay
Publishing Company, 1950), p. 511.

States, containing, among other things, the following, to

wit:

'That on the 1st day of January, A.D., 1863, all persons

held as slaves within any state or designated part of a

state the people whereof shall then be in rebellion

against the United States shall be then, thenceforward,

and forever free . . .

And by virtue of the power and for the purpose
aforesaid, I do order and declare that all persons held as
slaves within said designated states and parts of states
are, and henceforward shall be free . . .' 6

Thus, after nearly 250 years in America, legal citizenship for
Black Americans began January 1, 1863. The Thirty-eighth
Congress recognized that the newly established citizens needed
special assistance and created a bureau which became known as
the "freedmen's bureau." 7

During the 244 years prior to the Emancipation
Proclamation Black Americans had virtually no formal
education. Many of the slave states had enacted laws which ex-
pressly prohibited slaves from even acting in a learned manner.
Some of these laws even prohibited slave owners from en-
couraging intellectual development of their slaves. Typical of
such laws was an act of 1831 in North Carolina which stated in
part:

That it shall not be lawful under any pretence for any
free negro, slave or free person of color to preach or
exhort in public, or in any manner to officiate as a
preacher or teacher in any prayer meeting or other
association; . . . and if any free negro or free person of
color shall be thereof dully convicted on indictment
before any court having jurisdiction thereof, he shall for
each offense receive not exceeding thirty-nine lashes on
his bare back; . . .

and in case the owner of any slave shall consent or con-
nive at the commission of such offence, he or she so of-
fending shall be subject to indictment, and on conviction
be fined in the discretion of the Court not exceeding one
hundred dollars. 8

In 1875, Congress passed its first Civil Rights Act 9 which
gave Black Americans the right "to the full and equal enjoyment

6 U.S., Statutes at Large, XII, 1268 - 1269.
"Ibid., XIII, 507.

8 Laws of North Carolina, 1831-1832, Chapter IV.
9 U.S., Statutes at Large, XVIII, 335.

of the accommodations, advantages, facilities, and privileges of
inns, public conveyances on land or water, theaters and other
places of public amusement." Many states refused to recognize
the Civil Rights Act and the United States Supreme Court ruled
in 1883 that Congress had exceeded its power and virtually
eliminated the Act.

Following this decision several states enacted constitutional
amendments which effectively disfranchised the Negro. 10 The
lower Federal and State courts generally sustained state
segregation measures.

In 1896, the question of legality of "separate but equal" ac-
commodations was presented to the United States Supreme Court
in the Plessy v. Ferguson case. The case was initiated in 1892 in
Louisiana when Homer Plessy, a Negro, took a seat in a car
designated for whites. He was ordered to leave and upon refusing,
was taken from the train to jail. The issue presented to the
Supreme Court was whether the Louisiana law requiring
"separate but equal" accommodations denied equal protection of
the laws. In upholding the Louisiana law, Mr. Justice Brown in
delivering the majority opinion of the court declared in part:

We consider the underlying fallacy of the plaintiffs
argument to consist in the assumption that the enforced
separation of the two races stamps the colored race with
a badge of inferiority . . . The argument also assumes
that social prejudices may be legislated, and that equal
rights cannot be accured to the negro except by an enfor-
ced commingling of the two races. We cannot accept this
proposition . . .

... If one race be inferior to the other socially, the Con-
stitution of the United States cannot put them upon the
same plane. 11

The decision was not unanimous. Mr. Justice John Marshall
Harlan dissented widely from the majority of the Court in
eloquent language that was destined to be cited in later decisions.
We shall look at his dissent later in the paper.

The decision was a landmark. 12 It, in effect, legalized
separation of the races. Its implications were far-reaching. In
education, it gave the dual school system a legal foundation. In
due time, it came to mean, "separate but unequal."

The "separate but equal" doctrine was applied in some
states to non-whites as well as Negroes. An important case arose
in Mississippi involving the Chinese.

l0 Paul Lewinson, Race, Class, and Party (New York: Oxford University Press,
1932), p. 260.

" Plessy v. Ferguson, 163 U.S., 537 (1896).

12 The United States Congress might have inadvertently prognosticated the
decision in 1890 when it enacted the Second Merrill Act.

A Chinese girl, Martha Lum, a native-born American, was
denied admittance to Mississippi's "white schools." She took ac-
tion against the school authority which eventually reached the
United States Supreme Court, Chief Justice Taft, in delivering
the opinion of the Court said in part:

Most of the cases cited arose, it is true, over the
establishment of separate schools as between white
pupils and black pupils; but we cannot think that the
question is any different, or that any different result can
be reached, assuming the cases above cited to be rightly
decided, where the issue is as between white pupils and
the pupils of the yellow race. The decision is within the
discretion of the state in regulating its public schools,
and does not conflict with the Fourteenth Amendment. 13

The decision strengthened the legality of separate schools.
Thus at the dawn of the great depression and a pending period of
great social change, the "separate but equal" doctrine reached its
apex in strength. The application of the doctrine by the several
states maintaining dual school systems based on race, projected a
dim prospect for the eventual achievement of equal educational
opportunity.

The Deterioration of the "Separate but
Equal" Doctrine

At the end of the second decade of the Twentieth Century,
the United States entered into a huge depression. Fortunes of
men and families were wiped out overnight with the crash of the
stock markets. In the early thirties, to be precise, 1932, the coun-
try elected a new national administration that proposed the en-
actment of many Federal programs to assist the poor and needy.
The philosophy of the new administration placed great emphasis
upon the responsibility of the Federal government to the in-
dividual. Partly because of conditions created by the depression.
Southern states accepted the national programs enacted by
Congress and that in turn compelled them to give more attention
to the "equality" part of the "separate but equal" doctrine. 14

Another important factor that was to play a major role later
was the liberalizing of the Supreme Court by the Roosevelt ad-
ministration. 15

In the year 1935, Donald Murray, a Negro graduate of
Amherst College applied for admission to the law school of the

l3 Gong Lum v. Rice, 275 U.S. 78 (1927).

l4 Gunnar Myrdal, An American Dilemma (New York: Harper and Brothers,
Publishers, 1944), p. 463.

l5 Jeanette P. Nichols, Twentieth Century United States: A History (New York:
Appleton-Century, 1943), p. 361.

University of Maryland. He was refused in accordance with
Maryland's segregation statutes, although he was duly qualified.
Murray went to the state court seeking relief on the premise that
Maryland provided no legal training for Negroes and that the
state could not satisfy the "separate but equal" doctrine by of-
fering him a scholarship to a law school outside the state. The
court granted him the writ ordering his admission to the law
school of the University of Maryland. Officials of the University
appealed the decision to the Maryland Court of Appeals. The
higher court affirmed the lower court's decision. 16

The Court declared that the provisions made by the
legislature of Maryland for Negroes, in effect, declared the law
school of the University of Maryland "appropriated to the white
students only." The Court said further that "compliance with the
Constitution cannot be deferred at the will of the state" and
"whatever system it (the state) adopts for legal education now
must furnish equality of treatment now."

This decision was very significant because it was a departure
from prior decisions. It was the beginning of a closer look at the
doctrine of "equality" by the courts in future litigation.

As a result of the Murray decision, there was an increase in
the number of cases in which Negroes sought equal educational
opportunity in graduate and professional schools in the Southern
states. 17 Then, too, the attitude of the country had been changing
to a more sympathetic view of the Negro's fight for equal
educational opportunity.

Since the Murray case was settled in a state court, it was not
binding on other states with segregation school laws. Thus, the
next step in the climb to equal educational opportunity was to get
a ruling from the United States Supreme Court. The wait was not
long; a case arising in Missouri presented this opportunity.

Lloyd L. Gaines graduated in 1935 from Lincoln University,
the Negro land-grant institution of the State of Missouri. Lincoln
University did not have a law school. Gaines applied for ad-
mission to the University of Missouri law school and was refused.
The refusal of Gaines by the University Registrar was based on
the statutes of Missouri 18 which provided out-of-state aid for
Blacks who wanted courses offered by the University of Missouri
but not at Lincoln.

Gaines felt that the scholarship aid did not satisfy the re-
quirement of equal treatment. He sought a writ of mandamus
from the state circuit court and was refused. The Missouri
Supreme Court affirmed the lower court ruling and Gaines ap-
pealed his case to the United States Supreme Court. The Court

,6 169 Md. 487.

l7 Charles H. Houston, "Cracking Closed University Doors," in Fitzhugh L.
Styles, Negroes and the Law (Boston: Christopher Publishing House, 1937), p. 90.
^Revised Statutes, Missouri, 1929, II, 265-273.

reversed the rulings of the lower courts holding that the provision
of opportunities beyond the jurisdiction of Missouri did not
relieve the state of its obligation to furnish equal opportunities
within the state. Chief Justice Hughes in delivering the opinion of
the Court, said in part:

We think that these matters are beside the point. The
basic consideration is not as to what sort of oppor-
tunities other states provide, or whether they are as good
as those in Missouri, but as to what opportunities
Missouri itself furnishes to white students and denies to
Negroes solely upon the ground of color. 19

On the basis of this ruling, out-of-state scholarships for the
purpose of satisfying the "separate but equal" doctrine, was in-
validated. Many hailed the decision as very significant because of
the Court's close look at substantial equality. The Court in this
decision set a high standard for satisfying the doctrine of
"equality." This decision had far-reaching effects on graduate
and professional education for Negroes. It was clear from the
Court's ruling that the legal foundation for out-of-state tuition
assistance for Negroes, to prevent them from attending white
graduate and professional schools within the affected states, was
completely erroded. The decision implied three possible paths for
Missouri and other similarly affected states to consider: (1)
establish an "equal" graduate or professional school for Negroes
within the individually affected states; (2) admit Negroes to the
respective white graduate and professional schools; or (3) ter-
minate graduate and professional education for both races.

Almost immediately after the Gaines case, the fight for equal
educational opportunity moved into another area of inequality,
discrimination in the payment of salaries to Negro and white
public school teachers. In 1940, Melvin O. Alston, a Negro public
school teacher, sought an injunction to restrain the Norfolk,
Virginia, Board of Education from making any distinction on the
basis of race in determining the salaries of public school teachers
in Norfolk. The case was dismissed in the United States District
Court. The case was then carried to the United States Circuit
Court of Appeals where the judgment of the lower court was
reversed. In speaking for the Circuit Court, Judge Parker said:

That an unconstitutional discrimination is set forth in
these paragraphs hardly admits of argument. The
allegation is that the state, in paying for public services
of the same kind and character to men and women
equally qualified according to standards which the state
itself prescribes, arbitrarily pays less to Negroes than to
white persons. This is as clear a discrimination on the

^Missouri ex rel. Gaines v. Canada, 305 U.S. 337 (1938).

ground of race as could well be imagined and falls
squarely within the inhibition of both the due process
and the equal protection clauses of the Fourteenth
Amendment. 20

An appeal to the United States Supreme Court was filed but
the Court refused to issue a writ of certiorari to review the case. 21

As a result of the Alston case several other cases for
equalization of teachers' salaries were initiated and settled
favorably for Negroes.

In 1946, Ada Louis Sipuel applied for admission to the
University of Oklahoma Law School, the only state-supported in-
stitution for legal training in Oklahoma. She was refused ad-
mission solely because she was a Negro. She petitioned the state
courts for relief but was refused a writ of mandamus. Upon ap-
peal to the United States Supreme Court, the state courts were
reversed. 22

The case took two years in being finalized and the court or-
der reached the Oklahoma authorities exactly two weeks before
the second term of the law school was scheduled to open at Nor-
man. The Regents established a law school, January 17, 1948, at
Oklahoma City with a faculty of three white lawyers to teach
Miss Sipuel in rooms at the state capitol. 23 Miss Sipuel refused to
attend because the "school" lacked accreditation. 24 She peti-
tioned the United States Supreme Court for a writ of mandamus
to compel compliance with the Court's previous decision. The
Court's decision denied the writ because the majority of the
Justices felt that the Oklahoma trial court had not "departed )
from mandate."

In what was to become a guideline in future court decisions,
Mr. Justice Rutledge delivered blistering dissent which said in
part:

Obviously no separate law school could be established
elsewhere overnight capable of giving petitioner a legal
education equal to that afforded by the state's long-
established and well-known state university law school.
Nor could the necessary time be taken to create such
facilities, while continuing to deny them to petitioner,
without incurring the delay which would continue the
discrimination our mandate required to and at once.

20 Alston v. School Board of the City of Norfolk, 112 P. 24 992 (C. C. A. 4th
1940).

2, Ibid., 311 U.S. 693 (1940).

22 Sipuel v. Oklahoma Board of Regents, 332 U.S. 631 (1948).

-'Harry Ashmore, The Negro and the Schools (Chapel Hill: University of
North Carolina Press, 1954), pp. 33-34.

24 Walter A. White, A Man Called White (New York: The Viking Press, 1940).
pp. 144-148.

Neither would the state comply with it by continuing to
deny the required legal education to petitioner while af-
fording it to any other student, as it could do by ex-
cluding only students in the first-year class from the
state university law school.

Since the state courts' orders allow the state authorities
at their election to pursue alternative courses some of
which do not comply with our mandate, I think those or-
ders inconsistent with it. Accordingly, I dissent from the
Court's opinion and decision in this case. 25

In 1946, Herman Sweatt's application for admission to the
University of Texas law school was not accepted. In petitioning
for relief in the state court, he received a state court order holding
that he was entitled to relief. However, the court granted the
state six months in which to build a law school substantially
equal to that of the University law school at Austin. The new in-
stitution 26 was established on March 3, 1947. Sweatt continued to
fight his case for admission to the law school in Austin and in
1944 the United States Supreme Court agreed to hear it. The
Court rendered its decision in 1950. Chief Justice Vinson spoke
for a unanimous court and said in part:

What is more important, the University of Texas Law
School possesses to a far greater degree those qualities
which are incapable of objective measurements but
which make for greatness in a law school. Such qualities
. . . include reputation of the faculty, experience of the
administration, position and influence of the alumni,
standing in the community, traditions and prestige. It is
difficult to believe that one who had a free choice bet-
ween these law schools would consider the question
close.

The law school to which Texas is willing to admit
petitioner excludes from its student body members of the
racial groups which number 85% of the population of
the State and include most of the lawyers, witnesses,
jurors, judges and other officials with whom petitioner
will inevitably be dealing when he becomes a member of
the Texas Bar. With such a substantial and significant
segment of society excluded, we cannot conclude that the
education offered petitioner is substantially equal to
that which he would receive if admitted to the University
of Texas Law School. 27

^Fisher v. Hurst, 333 U.S. 147 (1948), p. 52.
NOTE: In the interval between her two cases, Miss Sipuel married and became
Mrs. Fisher.

26 Texas Southern University at Houston, Texas.

21 'Sweatt v. Painter, 339 US. 629 (1950).

This decision was a landmark in the quest for equality in
educational opportunites. It made it virtually impossible for any
newly established institution to be judged substantially equal to
an older established institution because of those intangible
"qualities which are incapable of objective measurements but
which make for greatness." Although the court did not rule on the
constitutionality of segregation in public education, it was ob-
vious that the net affect of the Sweatt v. Painter decision had
outlawed segregation in state-supported graduate and
professional education. The state of Texas petitioned the Court
for a rehearing but the petition was denied on October 9, 1950. 28

In 1948, G. W. McLaurin applied for admission to the
University of Oklahoma Graduate School. He was refused ad-
mission because of the state segregation school laws. The United
States District Court held that the state had to provide education
for him as soon as it provided that education for others. 29 The
Oklahoma legislature amended its laws to permit Negroes to at-
tend institutions of higher learning in the state, provided such
courses were unavailable in Negro schools. This instruction,
however, was to be given on a segregated basis. As a result,
McLaurin had to sit apart at a designated desk in an anteroom
adjoining the classroom; to sit at a designated desk on the mez-
zanine floor of the library, not to use the desks in the regular
reading room; and to eat at a different time from the other
students in the school cafeteria. 30 McLaurin filed a motion for
relief which was denied by the District Court. He then appealed
to the United States Supreme Court. The Court again spoke
through Chief Justice Vinson and said in part:

We conclude that the conditions under which this ap-
pellant is required to resolve his education deprive him
of his personal and present right to the equal protection
of the laws. 31

This decision established the principle that once Negroes
were admitted to a state institution, they had to be accorded the
same treatment and facilities as those accorded white students.
This principle was cited later on several occasions involving
similar cases. 32 The trend of the Court in the Gaines, Sipuel,
Sweatt, and McLaurin cases made the burden of the states in
proving substantial equality under the "separate but equal" doc-
trine all but impossible to carry. The stage was now set to

28 340 U.S. 846 (1950).

i9 New York Times, September 30, 1948, p. 1.

^McLaurin v. Oklahoma State Regents, 339 U.S. 637 (1950).

Ibid.

32 Thurgood Marshall, "An Evaluation of Recent Efforts to Achieve Racial In-
tegration in Education through Resort to the Courts," The Journal of Negro
Education (Summer, 1952), pp. 316-327.

challenge directly the "separate but equal" doctrine as it had
been applied to education.

The Fall of the "Separate but
Equal" Doctrine

By the fall of 1952 four cases had reached the United States
Supreme Court on appeals from Negroes. These cases originated
in Kansas, Virginia, South Carolina, and the District of Colum-
bia. A fifth case had reached the Court on an appeal from the
State of Delaware. The five cases were argued together before the
Court in December, 1952. The attorneys for the National
Association for the Advancement of Colored People challenged
segregated schools in such a fashion that the Court could not
avoid re-examining the "separate but equal" doctrine as it ap-
plied to education. 33

On May 17, 1954, Chief Justice Warren delivered the
unanimous opinion of the Court. He said in part:

In approaching this problem, we cannot turn the clock
back to 1868 when the Amendment was adopted, or even
to 1896 when Plessy v. Ferguson was written. We must
consider public education in the light of its full develop-
ment and its present place in American life throughout
the Nation. Only in this way can it be determined if
segregation in public schools deprives these plaintiffs of
the equal protection of the laws.

We come then to the question presented: Does
segregation of children in public schools solely on the
basis of race, even though the physical facilities and
other 'tangible' factors may be equal, deprive the
children of the minority group of equal educational op-
portunities? We believe that it does.

We conclude that in the field of public education the
doctrine of 'separate but equal' has no place. Separate
educational facilities are inherently unequal. Therefore,
we hold that the plaintiffs and others similarly situated
for whom the actions have been brought are, by reason of
the segregation complained of, deprived of the equal
protection of the laws guaranteed by the Fourteenth
Amendment. This disposition makes unnecessary any
discussion whether such segregation also violates the
Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. 34

"Ashmore, op. cit, pp. 95-108.

Brown v. Board of Education, 347 U.S. 483.

The Brown case was binding on the Kansas, South Carolina,
and Virginia cases:

The District of Columbia case (Boiling v. Sharpe) was
argued on the basis of the Fifth Amendment since the Fourteenth
Amendment applies only to states. In its decision in the Boiling v.
Sharpe case, the Court unanimously declared in part:

In view of our decision that the Constitution prohibits
the states from maintaining racially segregated public
schools, it would be unthinkable that the same Con-
stitution would impose a lesser duty on the Federal
Government. We hold that racial segregation in the
public schools of the District of Columbia is a denial of
the due process of law guaranteed by the Fifth Amend-
ment to the Constitution. 35

With these rulings the United States Supreme Court ended
over a century of litigation, beginning with Roberts v. Boston
(1849) and ending with Boiling v. Sharpe (1954). The real
meaning of the 1954 decisions was that segregation in public
education no longer had legal foundation under our Constitution.

The Court recognized that social conditions built up over the
years could not be overturned on short notice. Thus the Court did
not decree immediate compliance to give the affected school
systems time to make adjustments.

The May 17, 1954 decision of the United States Supreme
Court did not specifically include public higher education but it
was not long thereafter that the ruling was made applicable in
this area. Some of the states which had resisted the integration of
their facilities, now enunciated new policies for these facilities
complying with the Court's decision. 36 However, it was not until
1956 that the Court itself applied the May 17, 1954 decision to
public higher education. The case involved the University of
North Carolina and three Negro youths.

Upon presenting the necessary credentials required by the
University of North Carolina for admission to the undergraduate
division, the three Negroes were informed that the University ac-
cepted only Negroes desiring graduate and professional programs
not offered at one of the Negro state colleges. The applicants
petitioned the Federal District Court for relief. The District Court
ruled on January 6, 1956 that the "reasoning" of the May 17,
1954 Brown decision was binding on public higher education. The
Court said further that the reasoning "applied with greater force
to student of mature age in the concluding years of their formal

^Boiling v. Sharpe, 347 U.S. 497 (1954).

36 F. D. Moon, "Higher Education and Desegregation in Oklahoma," The Jour-
nal of Negro Education (Summer, 1958), pp. 300-301.

education as they are about to engage in the serious business of
adult life." 37

The University appealed the decision and on March 5, 1956,
the United States Supreme Court affirmed the lower court's
judgment. 38 This case in effect, removed all doubts concerning the
scope of the May 17, 1954 decision.

Although most of the affected states recognized that Brown v.
Board of Education was the "law of the land," it became
necessary for President Dwight D. Eisenhower to send Federal
troops to Little Rock, Arkansas in September, 1958 because the
state was unwilling to guarantee Federal rights. 39 Similarly, it
became necessary for President John F. Kennedy to send Federal
troops to Mississippi and Alabama to carry out the orders of the
Courts. 40

Recognizing that only equality of opportunity would heal the
wounds brought about the three and one-half centuries of
hypocrisy, President Kennedy told the Congress:

Therefore, let it be clear, in our own hearts and minds,
that it is not merely because of the Cold War, and not
merely because of the economic waste of discrimination,
that we are committed to achieving true equality of op-
portunity. The basic reason is because it is right. 41

In proposing legislation to Congress in what was to become
the Civil Rights Act of 1964, he said in part:

We face, therefore, a moral crisis as a country and as a
people. It cannot be met by repressive police action. It
cannot be left to increased demonstrations in the streets.
It cannot be quieted by token moves or talk. It is a time
to act in the Congress, in your state and local legislative
body, and above all, in all of our daily lives.

It is not enough to pin the blame on others, to say this is
a problem of one section of the country or another, or
deplore the fact that we face. A great change is at hand,
and our task, our obligation, is to make that revolution,
that change, peaceful and constructive for all. 42

* 7 Race Relations Law Reporter, I (February, 1956), 115-118.

Board of Trustees of the University of North Carolina, et al v. Leroy Ben-
jamin Fressler, Jr., et al, 350 U.S. 979 (1956).

39 Jack Greenberg, Race Relations and American Law (New York: Columbia
University Press: 1959), pp. 70-71.

40 Harry Golden, Mr. Kennedy and the Negroes (New York: World Publishing
Company, 1964), pp. 49-53.

41 Mr. Kennedy's Message to Congress, February 28, 1963. See Boston Globe,
March 1, 1963.

42 Mr. Kennedy's radio and television address to the Nation on June 11, 1963.
See Boston Globe, June 12, 1963.

Mr. Kennedy did not live to see his proposed legislation
become law, because of an assassin's bullets on November 22,

1963. The new President, Lyndon B. Johnson, in his first address
to a joint session of Congress urged:

No memorial, oration, or eulogy could more eloquently
honor President Kennedy's memory than the earliest
possible passage of the Civil rights bill for which he
fought so long. We have talked long enough in the coun-
try about civil rights. We have talked for one hundred
years or more. It is time now to write the next chapter
and to write in the books of law. John Kennedy's death
commands what his life conveyed that America must
move forward. 43

On July 2, 1964, the President of the United States signed
into law, Public Law 88-352, known as the Civil Rights Act of

1964. Under Title IV, 44 the Commissioner of Education was to
report to the President and the Congress within two years of the
enactment of the Title IV concerning the lack of availability of
equal educational opportunities for individuals by reason of race,
color, religion, or national origin in public educational in-
stitutions at all levels in the United States, its territories and
possessions, and the District of Columbia.

In 1965, a gigantic step was taken forward with the passage
of the Higher Education Act of 1965. Title III of the act was
aimed specifically at institutions of higher education with poten-
tial for greatness but lacking the necessary resources to realize
their potential. The wording of the title was in part:

Sec. 301. (a) The purpose of this title is to assist in
raising the academic quality of colleges which have the
desire and potential to make a substantial contribution
to the higher education resources of our Nation but
which for financial and other reasons are struggling for
survival and are isolated from the main currents of
academic life, and to do so by enabling the Com-
missioner to establish a national teaching fellow
program and to encourage and assist in this establish-
ment of cooperative arrangements under which these
colleges may draw on the talent and experience of our
finest colleges and universities, and on the educational
resources of business and industry, in their effort to im-
prove their academic quality. 45

4;! Mr. Johnson's address to a joint session of Congress, November 27, 1963. See
Boston Globe, November 28, 1963.

"U.S., Statutes at Large, LXXVIII, 246-247.
U.S., Statutes at Large, LXXIX, 1219.

The title was designed to bring to Black Americans through
the Black College, a new myriad of education opportunites. Most
educators felt that it represented another big step in the legal
quest for equal educational opportunity.

Although desegration of schools has been achieved at least
moderately in most states, it is still a step-by-step process which
operates only by court fiat. During the past six years, the United
States Supreme Court has had to eliminate several major ob-
stacles designed to legally circumvent the 1954 Brown v. Board of
Education decision. In its Green v. County School Board 46
decision, the delaying tactic of "freedom of choice" was struck
down by the Court. In its Alexander v. Holmes* 1 decision, the
delaying tactic of "all deliberate speed" was eliminated by the
Court. In its Charlotte-Mecklenburg Board of Education v.
Swann, et al., 4S the Court gave legal sanction to the use of busing
and "bizarre" remedial measures if necessary to bring about
desegregation.

Conclusion

In the thirty-eight years since the Murray decision of 1935,
the decisions of the Courts have completely changed the scope of
educational opportunities for Black Americans. Within this
period almost all legal barriers prohibiting Negroes from en-
joying the same educational opportunities afforded white
students, were removed. In trying to circumvent various decisions
of the Court, the affected states strengthened greatly, their Negro
institutions of higher education. Where meager support of these
institutions had been a fact of life, the decisions of the Court in-
directly stimulated increased appropriations, improved facilities,
expanded vertically and horizontally course offerings, and
changed attitudes toward the institutions from that of indif-
ference to that of great concern.

The legal quest for equal educational opportunity continues
in the 1970's which is complicated by the growing number of
Black Americans who are exhibiting "second thoughts" about the
merits of desegregation. Many Blacks have become discouraged
and frustrated by the callousness shown by some Whites when the
schools were desegregated in the mid-sixties. This feeling of
despair has been reinforced by the deliberate phasing out of
Black administrators, Black teachers, and Black institutions.
This diabolic pattern has changed many Black advocates of in-
tegration in the first decade following Brown v. Board of
Education to supporters of the concept of the all-black school
controlled by the black community. Such schools, they contend,

^Green v. County Board of Education, 391 U.S. 438 (1968).

47 Alexander v. Holmes County Board of Education, 396 U.S. 19 (1969).

4S The United States Law Week, pp. 4445-4446 (April 20, 1971).

will create the awareness necessary for the attainment of racial
pride, racial identity, and dignity. 49

At the time of this writing, it appears that those who are in
the forefront of the battle for equal educational opportunities for
Blacks must come to grips with several questions which are fun-
damental to progress in the 1970's. Among these are:

1. Is integration really a "no win" policy for Blacks?

2. Can integration be equated with disintegration of
Blacks as a future force in American life?

3. Is integration really the road to full equality for
Blacks in all walks of American life?

4. Are the fruits of integration worth the pains which
must be endured to achieve it?

5. Is integrated education necessarily equal education?

While there are abundant empirical data available to sup-
port any position one chooses to take, the writer reminds the
reader that Blacks have much bitter experience and knowledge of
the meager and calamitous fruits of a separated society. It is not
necessary for Blacks to walk that road again to find out where it
ends. Adequate money for education has always been in the white
community. When White students attend Black institutions,
money, somehow, always follows. It is not difficult, then, to see a
lot of truth in the popular supposition that "the money goes
where the White students go." And there is no reason why Whites
should not go to Black institutions just as Blacks go to White in-
stitutions because integration must be a two-way boulevard. The
writer also reminds the reader of the veracity of the Ciceronian
principle expounded at the beginning of this paper ignorance
of history will keep you a child always.

While the debate continues, the writer urges each concerned
American to ponder the eloquent dissent of Mr. Justice John
Marshall Harlan in Plessy v. Ferguson when he said in part:

But in view of the Constitution, in the eye of the law,
there is in this country no superior, dominant, ruling
class of citizens. There is no caste here. Our Constitution
is color blind, and neither knows nor tolerates classes
among citizens. In respect of civil rights, all citizens are
equal before the law. The humblest is the peer of the
most powerful. The law regards man as man, and takes
no account of his surrounding or his color when his civil
rights as guaranteed by the supreme law of the land are
involved. It is, therefore, to be regretted that this high

49 Jack Greenberg, "The Tortoise Can Beat The Hare," Saturday Review,
February 17, 1968, p. 57.

tribunal, the final expositor of the fundamental law of
the land, has reached the conclusion that it is competent
for a State to regulate the enjoyment by citizens of their
civil rights solely upon the basis of race.

In my opinion, the judgment this day rendered will, in
time, prove to be quite as pernicious as the decision
made by this tribunal in the Dred Scott case. 50

In conclusion, if we keep the faith, we shall overcome.

50 Plessy v. Ferguson, op. cit, pp. 559-561.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Books

Ashmore, Harry S., The Negro and the Schools. Chapel Hill: University of North

Carolina Press, 1954.
Golden, Harry, Mr. Kennedy and the Negroes. New York: The World Publishing

Company, 1954.
Greenberg, Jack, Race Relations and American Law. New York: Columbia

University Press, 1959.
Lewinson, PauL Race, Class, and Party. New York: Oxford University Press, 1932.
Myrdal, Gunnar, An American Dilemma. New York: Harper and Brothers,

Publishers, 1944.
Nichols, Jeanette P. Twentieth Century United States: A History. New York: Ap-

pleton-Century, 1943.
Styles, Fitzhugh, Negroes and the Law. Boston: Christopher Publishing House,

1937.
White, Walter A., A Man Called White. New York: The Viking Press, 1948.
Wish, Harvey, Society and Thought in Early America. New York: McKay

Publishing Company, 1950.

Articles and Periodicals

Greenberg, Jack, "The Tortoise Can Beat the Hare," Saturday Review (February
17, 1968), 57.

Marshall, Thurgood, "An Evaluation of Recent Efforts to Achieve Racial In-
tegration in Education through Resort to the Courts," Journal of Negro
Education, No. 21 (Summer, 1952), 316-327.

Moon, F. D., "Higher Education and Desegreation in Oklahoma," Journal of
Negro Education, No. 29 (Summer, 1958), 300-301.

Legal Documents

Race Relations Law Reporter. Vol. I, 1956.
The United States Law Week. April 20, 1971.

United States Supreme Court Cases

Alexander v. County Board of Education. 391 U.S. 438 (1968).

Alston v. School Board of the City of Norfolk. 311 U.S. 693 (1940).

Boiling v. Sharpe. 347 U.S. 497 (1954).

Brown v. Board of Education. 347 U.S. 483 (1954).

Fisher v. Hurst. 333 U.S. 147 (1948).

Gerg hum v. Rice. 275 U.S. 78 (1927).

Green v. County Board of Education. 391 U.S. 438 (1968).

McLaurin v. Oklahoma State Regents. 339 U.S. 637 (1950).

Missouri rel. Gaines v. Canada. 305 U.S. 337 (1938).

Plessy v. Ferguson. 163 U.S. 537 (1896).

Scott v. Sanford. 19 Howard 393 1857).

Sipuel v. Oklahoma Board of Regents. 332 U.S. 631 (1948).

Sweatt v. Painter. 339 U.S. 639 (1950).

Lower Federal Court Case

Alston v. School Board of the City of Norfolk. 112 F. 2d 992 (CCA. 4th 1940).

Legal Documents

Laws of North Carolina 1831-32.

Revised Statutes, Missouri, 1929. Vol. II.

The United States Law Week. (April 20, 1971) 4445-4446.

U.S. Statutes at Large. Vols. 2, 12, 13, 18, 78, 79.

State Court Case

Roberts v. City of Boston. 59 Mass. 198 (1849).

Newspapers

Boston Globe. 1963.

New York Times. 1948.

Southern School News. (Nashville). 1956-64.

DURRENMATT'S HEROES

Elizabeth Johns

Friedrich Durrenmatt states in his essay Problems of the
Theatre 1 that our age is non-tragic; he classifies his plays as
comedies. Yet his most striking dramatic creation is the hero who
breaks out of the comic world. Our age does not offer the
possibility of traditional heroic action. Power has become ab-
stract, so that no individual has the freedom to be responsible for
his actions. Not only is man not free in traditional terms, he can-
not find a traditional order in the universe: both of these are con-
ditions which presuppose comedy. Yet what Durrenmatt writes
reveals the possibility of a fleeting freedom and momentary unit
within this comic universe.

Although God exists, and is merciful, his universe is in-
scrutable to man; thus the world in Durrenmatt's plays is chaotic.
His characters stake their lives on order, either an order they
think already exists in the universe or an order they invent in the
faith that it will be confirmed. They assume they have the
freedom to commit their lives to a direction that is meaningful.
Most of Durrenmatt's characters never realize the illusory nature
of the order on which they have depended; these characters are
comic. But in each of five of Durrenmatt's comedies, one
character, faced with the meaninglessness of a life purposefully
lived, recognizes and accepts his absurdity. He has what Durren-
matt calls a "frightening moment" in which he looks into this
"abyss that opens suddenly" (Problems, p. 32). In accepting the
hopelessness of his position, he exercises the only freedom he has
and he confers on the chaotic world the only order that is real.

For just as the heroic world of the Greeks presupposed a
divinely sanctioned order, the heroic world of Durrenmatt
presupposes a divinely pitied disorder; the Greek tragic hero
probed what was possible in an orderly universe, and the Durren-
matt hero finds what is possible in a chaotic universe; the Greek
hero recognized his guilt, incurred by his own freedom; the
Durrenmatt hero recognizes his absurdity in his inability to act
freely. For Durrenmatt, the recognition, and this alone, makes
man heroic. When he avoids this moment he leaves himself comic.
Durrenmatt writes in Problems that "the world (hence the stage
which represents this world) is for me something monstrous, a
riddle of misfortunes which must be accepted but before which
one must not capitulate ... I have neither the right nor the
ability to be an outsider to this world" (p. 32).

Because Durrenmatt's understanding of the nature of
heroism is a criticism of the traditional Greek conception, his
dramatic method is to parody materials implicitly based on this
tradition. He complains (in Problems, p. 35) that literary scholars
and historians have interpreted so completely the events of
history and myth that a dramatist who uses this material
traditionally has only closed structures to work in. Thus in

Durrenmatt's use of traditional materials the fall of Rome, the
chaos of modern political revolution, the arrogance of Babylon,
the ritual of scapegoat murder, and the dilemma of the modern
scientist he inverts the usual conclusions. These are the con-
clusions that man does have power, that some order can be
brought from chaos, and that sacrifice is meaningful. In each of
Durrenmatt's plays, the hero sees that these possibilities do not
exist, but none of the plays is nihilistic. Durrenmatt's parody is
affirmative: man does have dignity, man can achieve heroic
stature. But dignity and heroism are attainable only when one
has seen through the illusions of the traditional faiths. The
heroism is that of accepted meaninglessness.

In Romulus the Great (second version, 1957 ) 2 Durrenmatt
places in juxtaposition several traditional conceptions of heroic
behavior, advertising with his subtitle, "An Historical Comedy
without Historical Basis," this parodic use he is making of the
subject of the fall of Rome. Durrenmatt's hero, Romulus, is the
last emporor of Rome. Until Act III we are convinced that
Romulus cares nothing for Rome and that through his insipidity
the Teutons will bring the Empire to its final collapse. However,
he reveals himself in Act III as a moralist determined to bring his
country to ruin in expiation to the world of her excesses. But
when the Teuton chief, Odoaker, invades the city, instead of mur-
dering Romulus and thereby fulfilling Romulus' moral sacrifice
of himself and his country, he wants to capitulate to him to
prevent what he fears will be barbarism in future Teutonic rule.
Romulus' twenty years as Emperor are thus instantly vitiated.
His agonized response is to accept the absurd end to which he has
come: he will retire meekly to a country estate, Odoaker will rule
the Empire, and barbarism worse than either can imagine will
descend upon the world when Odoaker's nephew Theodoric
assumes the throne.

Durrenmatt's gradual revelation of Romulus' plans creates
four types of heroic action, only the last of which is real. The first
is that of the anti-hero. Romulus appears to be a fool until Act
III. His primary concerns are for his body comforts and his
chickens, whom he has named after previous Roman emperors;
he eats throughout Act I, sleeps most of Act II, and delights in a
hot bath at the beginning of Act III. Apparently complacent, mat-
ter-of-fact, and sensual, he tells his chamberlain Achilles, "after
such a depressing day nothing helps as much as a good bath. Such
days are not for me. I am an untragic human being, Achilles" (p.
85).

In Act III Romulus suddenly seems to present himself as
having been all along not a fool, but a realist. Scoffing at his wife
Julia, he rejects the possibility of heroic resistance to the
Teutonic invasion because it would be fruitless: "Resistance at
any price is the greatest nonsense there is ... If we defend our-

selves, our fall will be bloodier. That may look grandiose, but
what is the sense? Why burn a world already lost?" (p. 87).

Almost immediately, however, he reveals himself further as a
man with a vision of moral judgment who has acted the fool in
order to force this judgment on the world. Romulus responds to
Julia's disgust with his passivity by telling her that he became
Emperor out of "political insight" (she was the illegitimate but
only heir of the Emperor Valentian, and Romulus the son of a
patrician family; the marriage was the result of his calculation)
and he defines his insight as the insight to do nothing: "To do
nothing as Emperor was the only way in which my doing nothing
could make sense. To do nothing as a private citizen is completely
ineffectual" (p. 89). In this sudden unveiling of Romulus' scheme,
Durrenmatt offers not only a surprise of characterization but an
explicit challenge to the traditional value of purposeful action.
Romulus reveals himself as a man after a goal of heroic propor-
tions, the collapse of a system he judges corrupt; to achieve this
traditional goal he has apparently nontraditionally refused to
act.

In fact, however, he has planned to take the most drastic ac-
tion of all, as he next reveals: to kill himself and take his country
with him. "The Teutons will kill me. I have always counted on
that death. That is my secret. I sacrifice Rome through sacrificing
myself (p. 94). This strong willfulness in putting the world under
one's control, and justifying it through self-sacrifice, is the most
extreme of the traditionally heroic roles. To Durrenmatt it is not
heroic; it is arrogant. In judging a world and determining its
course, Romulus has the ultimate responsibility to be right in his
judgment. Durrenmatt objects to Romulus as "a human being
who proceeds with the utmost firmness and lack of consideration
for others, a man who does not shrink from demanding the same
absoluteness of purpose from others. He is indeed a dangerous
fellow, a man determined to die" (p. 119).

But even this desperate attempt at heroic action fails.
Romulus' arrogant condemnation and self-righteous sacrifice are
denied him by Odoaker's refusal to kill him. Romulus sees the
meaninglessness of his attempted heroism: "My whole life was
aimed at the day when the Roman Empire would collapse. I took
it upon myself to be Rome's judge, because I was ready to die. I
asked of my country this enormous sacrifice because I, myself,
was willing to be sacrificed. By rendering my country defenceless,
I allowed its blood to flow because my own blood was ready to be
spilled. And now I am to live; my sacrifice is not being accepted.
Now I am to be the one who alone was saved . . . All I have done
has become absurd" (p. 113). As Durrenmatt states Romulus'
reversal: "If Romulus sits in judgment over the world in Act III,
the world sits in judgment over him in Act IV" (p. 119).

Romulus' real heroism lies in his reevaluation of human
freedom after his reversal. He tells Odoaker:

My dear Odoaker, I wanted to make my destiny and you
wanted to avoid yours . . . We thought we could drop the
world from our hands, you, your Germania, and I, my
Rome. Now we must busy ourselves with the pieces that
are left. I wanted Rome's end because I feared its past;
and you, you wanted the end of Germania because you
shuddered at its future. Two spectres ruled us, for we
have power neither over what was nor over what will be.
Our only power is over the present. But we did not think
of the present and now we founder on it . . . Reality has
put our ideas right, (p. 115)

In accepting the inevitable fate of every man to be limited by
unexpected, unseen forces, Romulus becomes heroic. The heroic
life is thus ultimately not one of action, plans, or integrity, but
one of acceptance.

Romulus' mistaken heroism, his earlier seizure of power, is
contrasted to Odoaker's anti-heroism, his attempts to refuse
power. Odoaker has spent his life fighting against his people's
rage for a traditional hero, and at the moment of the Teutons'
successful invasion of Rome his greatest fear is that his barbaric
nephew will seize power because "he dreams of ruling the world
and the people dream with him" (p. 111). The final horror for
Odoaker will have arrived, he tells Romulus, when the Teutons
"shall have become, once and for all, a people of heroes" (p. 112)
a people who live by the expectation that the world is orderly
and can be controlled. Odoaker's own attempts to control the
future, like those of Romulus, have been made meaningless. But
because he never expected to succeed, his position at the end of
the play is that of a disappointed man, but not an absurd man.

In ostensibly evaluating in this play the responsibility of a
citizen to his country, Durrenmatt is actually commenting on the
relationship between man and the universe and the consequent
nature of heroism. Romulus tells his wife Julia: "I don't doubt
the necessity of the state. I merely doubt the necessity of our
state," one which has institutionalized murdering, plundering,
taxing, and suppressing (p. 90). In response to his daughter Rea's
question about loving one's country above all else, Romulus
replies: "No, one should never love it as much as one loves other
human beings ... a country turns killer more easily than any
man" (p. 93). To Emilian, one of Romulus' most trusted soldiers,
Romulus speaks of Rome's collective depravity and demands:
"Do we still have the right to defend ourselves? Do we still have
the right to be more than victims?" (p. 101). The response of man
to the world is like that of the intelligent citizen to the state. He
cannot overpower it, and he must refuse to be overpowered by it.
Romulus tells Zeno, the deposed Emperor of Constantinople:
"We are provincials for whom the world has grown too large. We
can no longer comprehend it" (p. 66).

In Romulus man has no dependable power; he can find no order
in the universe; and even his sacrifice is meaningless. But despite
Romulus' early statement that "people whose number is up, like
us, can only understand comedy" (p. 52), he becomes more than
an actor in a comedy the very moment that he accepts his absurd
end and tells Odoaker: "Once more and for the last time, let us
play this comedy" (p. 115).

From the very beginning of the play The Marriage of Mr.
Mississippi (revised version, 1957) 3 , the world is obviously
chaotic. The action occurs in a room with two windows, the scene
out of one being northern European and the scene out of the other
being Mediterranean. The character introducing the play
suggests three alternate titles it could have had with equal
justification. This speaker, Saint-Claude, one of the main charac-
ters of the play, anticipates the action with the statement that
the play "concerns the somewhat regrettable fate of three
men, who, for various reasons, had taken it into their heads to
change and save the world and who then had the appalling bad
luck to run into a woman who could be neither changed nor
saved" (p. 48). The men are Saint-Claude, a communist
revolutionary, Florestan Mississippi, a public prosecutor, and
Count Ubelohe, an aristocrat turned medical missionary; the
woman is Anastasia, who loves and betrays each one of them.
Saint-Claude warns in his introductory speech that "as the plot
develops every project finally comes to nothing" (p. 48): the com-
munist revolution fails and Saint-Claude is executed; the public
prosecutor, in his zeal to exact Mosaic vengeance, is ousted by his
government for political reasons and poisoned by Anastasia by
accident; Ubelohe, who has fled the country in a sacrifice of his
career to Anastasia's selfishness, is rejected by her; and
Anastasia herself is poisoned by her husband, the public
prosecutor, in his attempt to extort a death-bed confession of her
honesty. She is dishonest to the death. The minister of justice,
Diego, survives the revolution and the play, riding to power as the
new prime minister when he restores order after Saint-Claude's
revolution fails. And Ubelohe, crushed by the meaninglessness
which Anastasia's rejection of him confers on his life, survives.
Diego is comic. Only Ubelohe recognizes his absurdity.

In this play, not just one but several attempted heroic actions
fail. In an epic speech to the audience, Ubelohe states that
Durrenmatt "was concerned to investigate what happens when
certain ideas collide with people who really take them seriously
and strive with audacity and vigour, with insane fervour and an
insatiable greed for perfection, to put them into effect" (p. 78). As
the play has begun with Saint-Claude's revelation that all comes
to naught, here in the midst of the play Durrenmatt is reinforcing
the meaninglessness of the frantic dedication of the doomed
characters: "The curious author sought an answer to the question
of whether the spirit in any shape or form is capable of
changing a world that merely exists and is not informed by any

idea ... he wished to ascertain whether or not the material
universe is susceptible of improvement" (p. 78).

Mr. Mississippi, the public prosecutor, bent on obtaining a
record number of death penalties in court, has staked his life on
his insistence that a moral law pervades the universe. This law,
which he believes that he alone represents, is the Mosaic law of
absolute retribution. The salvation of mankind, he claims, is "a
question of reversing the course of world history, which has lost
the Law and gained a freedom devoid of all moral responsibility"
(p. 60). On discovering that his first wife had taken Anastasia's
husband as a lover, he poisoned her in fulfillment of the Mosaic
death penalty for adultery; he then ascertained that Anastasia
had poisoned her husband in what she claimed was a fit of
jealous passion over his mistress (Madame Mississippi). Mr.
Mississippi demands that they marry each other as the punish-
ment which the Law demands of them both for their actions. But
he makes a clear distinction between his and Anastasia's murder
of their mates: "No, Madam. I am not a murderer. Between your
deed and mine there is an infinite difference. What you did in
response to a dreadful impulse, I did in obedience to a moral
judgment. You slaughtered your husband; I executed my wife" (p.
60).

Yet he is assailed with doubts about his faith in this Law of
retribution, as he reveals in his poisoning of Anastasia. When she
swears (falsely) that she has been faithful to him, he sees confir-
med his dedication to the ennobling quality of punishment:
"Then the Law is not senseless? Then it is not senseless that I
have killed? Not senseless these everlasting wars and revolutions
that add up to one single trumpet-blast of death? Then man does
change when he is punished? Then there is sense in the Last
Judgment?" (p. 116). The terrible irony of his comfort is felt by
the audience when he justifies this murder to Saint-Claude, one
of his wife's lovers: "To me she was the world. My marriage was a
terrible experiment. I fought for the world and won" (p. 117). As
the order which Mr. Mississippi posits in the universe is illusory,
so his death is ridiculous. He drinks the poison which Anastasia
has prepared for Saint-Claude.

As a revolutionary, Saint-Claude has dedicated his life to an
order also, but his is an order instituted by man, and not by God.
As a communist he is dedicated to the salvation of man's body; as
a moralist Mr. Mississippi was dedicated to the salvation of
man's soul. Saint-Claude argues that the public prosecutor's
course is futile. To Mr. Mississippi's "There is no justice without
God!", Saint-Claude replies, "There is only justice without God.
Nothing can help man but man . . . Man cannot keep God's law,
he has to create his own law" (p. 75). But Saint-Claude is
defeated. Justice of neither kind can prevail in the world because
there is no order; attempted heroic action postulated on a non-
existent world order is meaningless.

One of the play's survivors, Diego, fittingly the minister of
justice, has no illusions about order or justice. The only constant
in this universe is society, he claims, and the individual can
prevail if he recognizes this mindless power: "As though a
revolution directed against an individual were to be feared. You
sacrifice the individual, and the bitch known as society remains
untouched. That's a well tried rule the beast called society is
indestructible, if we put our money on the beast we shall stay on
top for ever" (p. 94). Morality is relative, determined by prac-
ticality: "Everything in the world can be changed, my dear
Florestan, except man" (p. 68). And because this is so, Diego will
not be in power long. His is the illusion that because he
recognizes the mindlessness of the universe, he is exempt from its
consequences.

Anastasia, who on convenient impulses gives herself to and
then betrays each of the main characters, is a paradigm of
Durrenmatt's world: a resisting but formless mass. Saint-Claude
tells us she "could be neither changed nor saved" (p. 48), and
Ubelohe describes her as "not modelled upon heaven or hell, but
only upon the world" (p. 79). Diego understands her: "You are an
animal, but I love animals. You have no plan, you live only in the
moment . . . For you what is will always be stronger than what
was, and what will be will always triumph over the present" (p.
83). This is a description of the world as Romulus came to per-
ceive it.

Only Ubelohe, because he has lost everything and recognizes
it, has Durrenmatt's fleeting moment of freedom and thus breaks
out of the comic world. As a wealthy physician, he was
Anastasia's lover when she was married to her first husband. She
asked him for poison to relieve her sick Pekinese from his misery
and promptly used it to murder her husband. Ironically, the
public prosecutor obtained poison from the Count under a similar
guise and "executed" his wife with it. With the conviction that the
poison would be traced to him, his reputation ruined, and he him-
self prosecuted, Ubelohe fled the country to become a missionary
in the miserable jungles of Borneo. Five years later, during the
action of the play, he returns with his health broken by the
tropics to see Anastasia for one last time. He expects to find her
in prison. The futility of his flight, of his lost health, of his lost
fortune, and of his love which he has borne all these years for
Anastasia hits him when he finds her, unprosecuted, the wife of
the public prosecutor, himself guilty and unprosecuted. However,
he risks losing himself again when he allows himself to be convin-
ced by Anastasia that she had no choice but to marry Mississippi
and that she still loves Ubelohe above all else.

Ubelohe tells the audience before he enters Anastasia's living
room on his return from Borneo: "Thus he [Durrenmatt] created
me, Count Bodo von Ubelohe-Zabernsee, the only one whom he
loved with all his passion, because I alone in this play take upon
myself the adventure of love, that sublime enterprise which,

whether he survives or perishes in it, endows man with his
greatest dignity" (p. 79).

After waiting with Anastasia for Mississippi's return from
the streets so that they might confess their love to him, Ubelohe
berates Mississippi when he refuses to believe that Anastasia has
betrayed him, citing as evidence for his faith the ennobling effect
the punishment of the marriage has had on her. Man is loved by
grace, not for his works, insists Ubelohe: "You fool . . . How can
you love a woman for her works? Do you not know that the works
of man lie? How petty is your love, how blind your Law; / do not
love your wife as a just woman, I love her as an unhappy one" (p.
100).

Anastasia's response to Ubelohe's love, like that of the world
to man's plans, is to deny to Mississippi that she loves Ubelohe.
Thus Ubelohe's every course has made him ridiculous.
"Everything I set my hand to is ridiculous. In my youth I read
books about the great Christians. I wanted to become like them. I
fought against poverty, I went to the heathen, I became ten times
sicker than the saints, but whatever I did and however terrible
the things that happened to me, everything became ridiculous.
Even my love for you the only thing left to me has become
absurd" (p. 91). He leaves Anastasia, after she has denied her
love for him, with a clear vision of his absurdity in a world
without order. His meaning now resides not in the
meaningfulness of his works, which have been made ridiculous,
but in the grace, the moment of freedom, he finds in recognizing
his absurdity. This is his tragic moment; he freely accepts the
existence of the abyss:

Thus I have been flung upon a world that is

now beyond salvation,

and nailed upon the cross of my absurdity,

I hang upon this beam

that mocks me,

exposed unprotected

to the gaze of God,

a last Christ. (p. 105)

In Durrenmatt's world the price of love is that of heroism:
the lover/hero becomes absurd. The man who makes demands on
the world pursues a meaningless course, as do Saint-Claude and
Mississippi, because all demands are resisted by chaos. Even
Diego will eventually come to naught, for governments topple.
However, the man who gives to the world, whether his gift is his
love or his meaning, acts heroically. He does not demand from
the world a non-existent external order but gives to the world his
inner order achieved, however fleetingly, in the relinquishing of
himself. That his gift will usually be rejected makes him absurd,
but the paradox of experience is that choosing absurdity in the
formlessness of the world is acting with the only vision of order
that is not illusory.

A dance of cosmic futility is evoked at the end of this play.
The dead characters rise to speak of their continual return to
earth to pursue aggressive, angry, lonely, and hungry lives. Ever
comic, they never realize their futility: "Again and again we
return, as we have always returned ... In every new shapes, year-
ning for every more distant paradises" (p. 119).

Only Ubelohe, seen jousting at a windmill, is aware of the
absurdity of his position. He shouts at the windmill:

Look at Don Quixote de la Mancha,
who knighted a drunken innkeeper,
who loves a pig-girl in Toboso

Many times battered and beaten, many times jeered at,
who yet defies you.

Forward then!

As you lift us up with your whirling hand,
horse and rider, both of them wretched,
as you hurl us into the swimming
silver of the glassy sky

I gallop on my sorry jade

away over your greatness

into the flaming abyss of the infinite

An eternal comedy

Let His glory blaze forth,

fed by our helpless futility (p. 120)

Heroic man appears again and again: first hopeful, then
vanquished, and finally absurd. His faith, itself absurd, is that
"in this finite Creation God's mercy is really infinite" (p. 79).

In the play An Angel Comes to Babylon (1957), 4 Durrenmatt
uses fantasy to make dramatically explicit his conviction that
meaningfulness comes only to the man who gives up everything,
as have Romulus and Ubelohe. In this play God sends His Grace,
the lovely young Kurrubi, to be a gift to the lowliest of mankind.
An Angel unfamiliar with the earth escorts Kurrubi with instruc-
tions to give her to Akki, the last beggar in Babylon. But he is th-
warted. King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon has outlawed begging
in his plan to rule the perfect state; only Akki has resisted his
edict. Nebuchadnezzar, in disguise as a beggar from Ninevah in
order to convince Akki to change his mind, unwittingly confuses
the Angel and Kurrubi is given to him instead of to Akki. But
Nebuchadnezzar does not want God's Grace if he has to be poor
to receive it, and, exasperatingly, Kurrubi will stay with
Nebuchadnezzar only if he is poor. She wants nothing to do with
him as a King. Indeed no one in the play wants Kurrubi,

beautiful as she is, because of her demand that she be received in
poverty. Only Akki, the beggar who knows the futility of wealth
and power, wants God's Grace. Together they flee the ugly
clamour of the insulted Babylonians, Kurrubi still loving
Nebuchadnezzar in his disguise as a beggar, and Akki loving the
earth for its faults and its promises.

The characters in this play who are comic King Nebuchad-
nezzar, his prime minister, and his theologian are those who do
not realize the illusory nature of the systems of order they have
imposed on the universe. Like the political leaders of Romulus
and Mississippi, they interpret the universe in terms of orders
which do not exist: material abundance, which is transitory; per-
sonal power, which is ephemeral; and non-empirical syllogisms,
which bear no confirmed relation to experience. The reality is
that man is a metaphorical beggar in this world, controlling
nothing and knowing nothing. His only dignity comes from the
mercy that God feels for him in his helplessness. Man cannot
therefore make his own dignity, nor can he propel himself to
heroic action. Dignity and heroism come to him only in the
moment in which he recognizes and accepts his helplessness.

Nebuchadnezzar, incredulous at being given God's Grace as a
beggar, has difficulty comprehending this paradox. In response to
his rather delicate suggestion that Kurrubi might better have
been given to a King, the Angel tells him: "Kings do not interest
Heaven. On the contrary, the poorer a man is, the more pleasing
he is in the sight of Heaven" (p. 225). And further, "Learn, once
and for all, that ruling the world is Heaven's business and
begging is mankind's" (p. 226).

As King, Nebuchadnezzar is pursuing single-mindedly his
dream of political order, ignoring the implications of his and
Nimrod's perpetual cyclical replacement of each other, one
always King, the other footstool, one libertarian and the other
socialist. His work is to improve mankind, and he believes that he
can achieve political perfection: "Perfection, by definition, con-
tains nothing superfluous. Yet a beggar is superfluous" (p. 208),
because a beggar supports no system but lives only for each
moment.

When he realizes that God's gift of Grace has been bestowed
purposely on him as a beggar rather than as a King, Nebuchad-
nezzar is outraged. It is as a King that man wants God's sanction.
"When will Heaven ever learn to give each man what he needs?"
(p. 228). To dramatize that a beggar is unworthy of God's atten-
tion, Nebuchadnezzar throws Kurrubi to the floor.

But Kurrubi loves Nebuchadnezzar anyway; however, as a
figure for the only meaning which God grants man, she will not
come to him when he is King but only when he is a beggar. In
refusing to marry him as King, she condemns his illusory security:
"You are make-believe: the beggar I seek is the reality . . . Your
power is weakness . . . your riches are poverty. Your love for me is

self-love. You neither live nor are you dead. You exist, but you
have no existence" (p. 279). Man's reality is his absurdity. But his
reality is also that God loves and pities him in his absurdity. For
Kurrubi, rejected by Nebuchadnezzar, flees Babylon asking:
"How could I live on this earth without the love I have for my
beloved?" (p. 233).

Nebuchadnezzar realizes at the end of the play that as he has
rejected God's Grace for the sake of his power, everyone else (ex-
cept Akki) has also rejected Kurrubi for the sake of something:
"The Minister betrayed her for reasons of state, the priest for the
sake of his theology, all of you for the sake of your property" (p.
285). Unable to see, however, that his power is illusory, he vows to
use it to curse God in return for God's insult to man. He will en-
slave his people and build the Tower. His last vision reveals what
his power will come to: his idiot son and only heir balances across
the stage on a tightrope.

Akki the beggar, however, has no illusions. He lives in the
humility of each moment, witty, discerning, capable, but
eschewing the temptation to depend on anything. Highly suc-
cessful as a beggar, he avoids the dangers of becoming wealthy by
throwing most of his proceeds into the Euphrates. Throwing
away, he explains to Kurrubi, "is the only way of maintaining a
really high standard in beggary. Prodigality is essential" (p. 232).

Akki has existed since the beginning of time. He claims to
have been Lilith's lover and has the sarcophagus that carried him
through the Flood. He offhandedly tells the disguised Nebuchad-
nezzar that he has been King seven times. In a rhetorical
dialogue with the poets who are thronging his living quarters (un-
der a bridge over the Euphrates), Akki relates the story of his life:
he was a merchant's son until the financial collapse of the world
(the poets summarize, "Nothing was saved from the wreck" p.
237); the adopted son of a prophet until the perishing of the
religion ("Nothing was saved from the wreck"); and the protege of
a general until the subjugation of the dynasty ("Nothing was
saved from the wreck"). Akki's conclusion is that man should be
like sand, for sand doesn't show footprints. Only beggars are
saved from the wrecks (p. 238) of systems and institutions.
Beggars alone do not commit themselves to systems which
collapse, they do not impose an illusory order on the universe:
"Secret teachers, we are, educators of the people. We go in rags as
a tribute to man's wretchedness, and we obey no law, that
freedom may be held in honor. We eat as greedily as wolves and
drink like drunkards to expose the appalling hunger and tor-
turing thirst which poverty brings with it; and we fill the arches
of the bridges under which we sleep with the treasures of long-
forgotten empires, to show that everything ends up with the
beggar in the course of time" (p. 223).

Although there are no systems which are permanent in the
world, Akki recognizes that there are situations which throughout

time mark the boundaries of man's existence. He agrees with the
Hangman that "the hidden framework of the world is
bureaucracy, beggary, and hanging" (p. 252). Always will there be
a Prime Minister or a King, imposing a short-lived civil order,
always a beggar, having nothing and depending on nothing, and
always the hangman, ending man's life unexpectedly. The beggar
is the only one without the illusion of power.

Because Akki depends on nothing, he alone is receptive to
God's Grace, Kurrubi. He cherishes and cares for her when she
stays with him, but he freely relinquishes her when the people
demand that she become King Nebuchadnezzar's queen: "I have
no right to you. You came to me, a fragment of Heaven, in a
chance bargain, and clung to me, like a thread of God's Grace,
uncomplaining and cheerful, until another puff of wind has come
to carry you away again" (p. 248). But when Kurrubi is rejected
by King Nebuchadnezzar in favor of his power, she returns to the
humble Akki and they flee Babylon together.

Akki is a fantastical creature who has always seen the world
for what it is. Although he thus does not have the tragic moment
that Romulus and Ubelohe have in facing their human absurdity,
he is Durrenmatt's hero not only because he recognizes the absur-
dity of power and wealth, but because, like Ubelohe, he gives him-
self to the world in love. He hurries from collapsing Babylon with
the words:

I love an earth which still exists; an earth of beggars,
lonely in its happiness, and lonely in its dangers, colour-
ful and wild, wonderful in all its possibilities; an earth
which I conquer again and again, maddened by its
beauty, entranced by its face, ever oppressed and never
defeated . . . what faces us? ... at the last, a land that
forgets the past; a land rising in the silver light of a new
dawning, full of new persecutions, but full, too, of new
promises, and full of the songs of a new morning.

The world of the play The Visit (1956) 5 is a chaos that en-
courages meanness of action, a chaos more oppressive than that
of the other plays. The play concerns the small central European
town of Gullen, which is in the grip of a deep economic depression
despite prosperity everywhere else. Into the town comes Madame
Claire Zachanassian, a sixty-three-year old millionairess who has
grown up in the town, with an offer to the Gulleners of a million
dollars. Her condition is that she receive "justice": that the
citizens murder their leading citizen, 111, because he inflicted an
injustice on Claire forty-five years earlier. He had made her
pregnant and then, perjuring himself and two witnesses, denied
his paternity in a court of law. Claire as a result had spent
several years in a brothel until she was found by the oil
millionaire Zachanassian. The shocked Gulleners, although ab-

ject in their poverty, refuse Claire's offer with professions of
deeply held humanistic principles. But the temptations of
material comforts are too strong for the Gulleners, and they
slowly lose their principles. As they move toward a readiness to
kill 111, he moves toward an acknowledgment of his earlier guilt.
He finally is able to see the absurdity of his penalty and to
relinquish himself to it. At his death, he is heroic, but the
Gulleners, rejoicing in their new prosperity, remain unaware and
comic.

In this play Durrenmatt presents several types of reactions to
the chaotic world which are attempts to impose order on it or to
accommodate to it with the least possible difficulty. Claire lives a
life of single-minded dedication to revenge for an evil perpetrated
on her which she cannot forget. The Gulleners, although they
claim a dedication to moral and humanistic principles, adapt
themselves to the possibility of material improvement of their lot
by ignoring the spiritual implications of their adaptation. And 111,
at first stupidly self-satisfied with his past, rises to a meaningful
death when he is able to face his guilt and the absurdity of that
guilt affecting him after forty-five years.

In her preoccupation with one event out of the chaos that
each man lives in, Claire has become like a stone idol (p. 88). Her
outrage at the injustice done her is out of proportion to the length
of time she has lived since the event and certainly to the comfor-
table circumstances in which she has since existed. She tells 111 in
their first interview after her return to Gullen that she has
"grown into hell itself (p. 29); in their last talk she admits "my
love could not die. Neither could it live. It grew into an evil thing,
like me, like the pallid mushrooms in this wood, and the blind,
twisted features of the roots, all overgrown by my golden
millions" (p. 88). Her response to evil has been ro reflect it back
on the world: "with financial resources like mine you can afford a
new world order. The world turned me into a whore. I shall turn
the world into a brothel" (p. 67). She imposes her order
everywhere possible, even on every detail of the lives of her nine
husbands. She is like "an avenging Greek goddess . . . spinning
destiny's webs herself (p. 26), observes the town Schoolmaster,
but Durrenmatt, in his afterword, emphasizes her humanness:
"The old lady is a wicked creature, and for precisely that reason
mustn't be played wicked, she has to be rendered as human as
possible, not with anger but with sorrow and humour" (p. 108).
Her response to the universe, although lamentable, is fixed and
unseeing and therefore comic.

Although the Gulleners slide slowly away from their
professed moral values, Durrenmatt is not cynical about their
reaction to the promise of material improvement. He writes in the
play's notes that The Visit "is told by someone who feels himself
at no great remove from the people involved, and who is not so
sure he would have acted differently" (p. 105). Throughout Act II,
when the Gulleners begin buying small luxuries on credit, they do

not seem to sense that their buying is taking them in any
inexorable direction; they are sure, as we learn in the Doctor and
Schoolmaster's appeal to Claire in Act III, that other
arrangements may be made for the financial recovery of Gullen.
The threat is too outrageous to be real, argues the policeman (p.
48), and another citizen convinces himself that Claire meant her
demand for Ill's death only as a "figure of speech for unspeakable
suffering" (p. 68). Even Ill's family, in their slow retreat from
him, have Durrenmatt's sympathy: prosperity, such a relief after
their long deprivation, inhibits their vision; they cannot believe
that something horrible would really be the price for these com-
forts which so many men enjoy as a matter of course. Limited in
their vision and comic in this limitation, the Gulleners are
nonetheless pitiable, and Durrenmatt's sympathy parallels that
of the God who in An Angel Comes to Babylon has mercy on man
in his absurdity.

The Schoolmaster has the educated vision of the Humanist
tradition, but he too participates in the slow capitulation of the
Gulleners. He describes Claire as "that damned old woman, that
brazen arch-whore changing husbands while we watch, and
making a collection of our souls" (p. 76). Nonetheless he feels his
own horrified participation in the movement of the Gulleners
toward Claire's "justice": "They will kill you. I've known it from
the beginning, and you've known it too for a long time, even if no
one else in Gullen wants to admit it. The temptation is too great
and our poverty is too wretched. But I know something else. I
shall take part in it. I can feel myself slowly becoming a mur-
derer. My faith in humanity is powerless to stop it" (p. 77). In a
perversion of the tradition he has espoused and taught for more
than twenty years, the Schoolmaster presides over the assembly
of the Gulleners when they gather before the unsuspecting press
to vote to accept Claire's "gift." With sophistic rhetoric he molds
the Gulleners into a group committed to a high purpose, which is
interpreted by the press as being a glorious passion for justice,
but which is known by the Schoolmaster and the Gulleners as
being an inglorious passion for material comfort.

The Priest similarly retreats into the rhetoric of his position
when 111 turns to him for help. He avoids evaluating the
Gulleners' responsibility to 111 by advising 111 to examine only his
own guilt. "You should fear not people, but God; not death in the
body, but in the soul" (p. 56). Ill discovers that the priest has
joined the Gulleners in their march toward prosperity on credit:
he has bought new bells for the church. Seeing Ill's recognition of
his capitulation, the Priest is agonized: "Flee! We are all weak,
believers and unbelievers. Flee! The Gullen bells are tolling,
tolling for treachery. Flee! Lead us not into temptation with your
presence" (p. 58). Thus the Priest and the Schoolmaster have the
moment of insight which distinguishes the Durrenmatt hero; but
for these men the moment is simply a recognition of the disparity

between what they say and what they do. They do not become
heroic, for they do not relinquish themselves or their action.

Ill, however, comes to realize that he will relinquish himself.
Like everyone else in the play, he has been the victim of a chaotic
world that encourages malignity. He and the Gulleners have lived
poverty-stricken lives because of Claire's rage for vengeance (she
had, after marrying Zachanassian, bought all the businesses in
Gullen so that she could close them and send the town into
depression); Claire herself has lived a life in petrified response to
the cruelty inflicted on her when she was seventeen. But these
people are not only the victims of cruelty, they perpetrate. Ill
abandoned Claire, she inflicted suffering on an entire community,
and the townspeople come to murder 111. The meaninglessness of
this cycle of malignity is caught by Claire in her declaration to
the Doctor and the Schoolmaster: "Your hopes [that Gullen
would come out of its depression] were lunacy, your perseverance
pointless, and your self-sacrifice foolish; your lives have been a
useless waste" (p. 66).

Ill begins his escape from this uselessness when he admits his
culpability. His first reactions are to toss off carelessly his youth-
ful irresponsibility to Claire: "Oh, it's an old story. I was young,
thoughtless" (p. 37). "I'm an old sinner . . . who isn't. It was a
mean trick I played on her when I was a kid" (p. 43). Then he ex-
cuses himself because as an ultimate result of his abandonment
of her Claire became a millionairess. Eventually, 111 sees that he
is guilty. He tells the Schoolmaster, "I'm not fighting any more
. . . I've realized I haven't the least right on my side" (p. 76). "I
made Claire what she is, and I made myself what I am, a failing
shopkeeper with a bad name. What shall I do, Schoolmaster?
Play innocent? It's all my own work, the Eunuchs, the Butler, the
coffin, the million. I can't help myself, and I can't help any of you,
any more" (p. 76).

But his admission of guilt does not exonerate the Gulleners
for their guilt in murdering him. He will not commit suicide to
ease their task. He tells the Mayor: "You must judge me, now. I
shall accept your judgment, whatever it may be. For me, it will be
justice; what it will be for you, I do not know. God grant you find
your judgment justified. You may kill me, I will not complain
and I will not protest, nor will I defend myself. But I cannot
spare you the task of the trial" (p. 81).

In Ill's progress toward heroism, he has faced his earlier guilt
honestly. But his final acceptance involves his recognition that
the penalty exacted of him is absurd. He alone has been picked
out of the malignity of the chaos to suffer the ultimate penalty;
what he deserves is justice, but everyone else deserves justice also.
In the inconsistency of events he relinquishes himself. His

heroism is tempered only by his demand that his fellows face
their absurdity as he has faced his.

With the play The Physicists (1962) 6 Durrenmatt has moved
away from considerations of the comic limitations of political
power, wealth, and morality to an examination of the comic
and horrible limitations of rationality. The play involves three
scientists who reside in Fraulein Doktor Mathilde von Zahnd's
villa-insane asylum. The scientists appear at first to be quite
mad. Of the two fairly recent arrivals, one claims to imagine
himself as Sir Isaac Newton and the other as Albert Einstein; the
third physicist, Mobius, who has been in the asylum for fifteen
years, claims that he sees visions of King Solomon. In apparent
lunacy each scientist has strangled his nurse. Sudden and strict
security measures ordered by the police inspector to prevent any
more stranglings force "Newton" and "Einstein" to reveal to
Mobius and to each other that they are physicists acting as in-
telligence agents for their respective governments and are in the
asylum to abduct Mobius. Mobius is considered by both of them
to be the greatest physicist of all time; each of their governments
wants access to his knowledge. Mobius confesses that he, too, is
not mad; he has feigned insanity for fifteen years in the
realization that the consequence of his knowledge is the risk of
the existence of humanity. He convinces Newton and Einstein
that his position is the only moral one that a physicist can take:
because a physicist cannot control the use of his knowledge, he
must withhold the knowledge if it represents a threat to
humanity. The three physicists agree to remain in the asylum to
protect humanity, meaningfully sacrificing not only their own
lives but the lives of the nurses they had murdered when the
women had begun to suspect their secret. Fraulein Doktor in-
terrupts their self-congratulation. She reveals that, under the or-
ders of King Solomon, she had photocopied Mobius' brain during
the entire time of his stay. With this knowledge she has seized
control of the world. All three physicists are her prisoners now;
their murders of their nurses, which she aggravated, certify their
derangement to the world so that they are completely powerless
to expose her. Their plans and sacrifice are made absurd. In
resignation they reassume their pretended identities. Mobius, as
King Solomon, laments: "My wisdom destroyed the fear of God,
and when I no longer feared God my wisdom destroyed my
wealth. Now the cities over which I ruled are dead, the Kingdom
that was given unto my keeping is deserted . . . the radioactive
earth" (p. 94).

The Physicists is ostensibly a statement about scientific
knowledge. The basic assumption of the points of view represen-
ted by Einstein and Newton is that knowledge cannot be held
privately. A man's intellectual discoveries are the property of
humankind, argues Newton when he tries to persuade Mobius to

leave the madhouse: "With all respect to your personal feelings,
you are a genius and therefore common property. You mapped
out new directions in physics. But you haven't a monopoly of
knowledge. It is your duty to open the doors for us, the non-
geniuses" (p. 74).

The genius can give his knowledge to mankind with either of
two points of view. The first is that the scientist is not responsible
for the uses and consequences of his discoveries. Newton boasts:

It's nothing more nor less than a question of the freedom
of scientific knowledge. It doesn't matter who guarantees
that freedom. I give my services to any system, providing
that system leaves me alone. I know there's a lot of talk
nowadays about physicists' moral responsibilities. We
suddenly find ourselves confronted with our own fears
and we have a fit of morality. This is nonsense. We have
far-reaching, pioneering work to do and that's all that
should concern us. Whether or not humanity has the wit
to follow the new trails we are blazing is its own lookout,
not ours. (p. 76)

The second point of view is that the scientist is responsible
for the consequences of his knowledge; therefore he must main-
tain enough power to control these consequences. This point of
view is advocated by Einstein: "Admittedly we have pioneer work
to do. I believe that too. But all the same we cannot escape our
responsibilities. We are providing humanity with colossal sources
of power. That gives us the right to impose conditions. If we are
physicists, then we must become power politicians. We must
decide in whose favor we shall apply our knowledge" (p. 76).

Mobius elicits from both of them the confession that neither
justification works in reality because of the nature of the govern-
ments which control mankind. In the first alternative, govern-
ments use an individual's scientific knowledge for destruction:
they advance their military defense systems; and in the second
alternative, political parties have an autonomy which leaves the
would-be physicist-politician ultimately powerless.

Mobius' argument against Einstein and Newton is that
knowledge, when it risks the destruction of humanity, is of
necessity a private concern. For the sake of mankind, the
physicist must refuse to explore such knowledge. That it is
inevitably dangerous is verified not only by Newton and Ein-
stein's reported experiences but by Fraulein Doktor's seizure and
perversion of Mobius' discoveries to establish herself as dictator
of the world.

But Durrenmatt's play is more profound than an in-
vestigation of the uses of knowledge. He is revealing the cost of
rationality. Unless the discoveries of rationality are used with a
concern for mankind, they may destroy mankind. Man is saved by

rationality, but he may be destroyed by it too. The ultimate irony
of The Physicists is that in our inscrutable universe the
rationality with which we make ourselves meaningful is the same
rationality with which we may make ourselves meaningless.
Because it is used by undependable man, rationality is itself
irrationally, or absurdly, undependable.

As a statement about the possibilities for heroic action in this
world, The Physicists is bleaker than the earlier plays. In this
play the consequences of the impossibility of traditional heroic
action are ultimate: the destruction of humanity. And yet Durren-
matt's analysis is still that the hero is the man who recognizes
and accepts his absurdity. However, in this play the hero sees that
the absurdity involves consequences horrible to the world. He
cannot privately pay the penalty, and thus he cannot be respon-
sible even for his own rationality.

As in the earlier plays, Durrenmatt presents several perspec-
tives on heroism. Scientists dedicated to the progress of
knowledge regardless of its consequences, Einstein and Newton
sacrifice several years of their lives in their intelligence missions
in the madhouse. Their resulting permanent incarceration by
Fraulein Doktor causes them suffering, but it is not unexpected,
nor does it lead to their recognition of their lives as absurd. They
remain comic. The nurse Monika, in offering herself to Mobius as
his wife, wants to sacrifice herself: "For five years I've been
looking after sick people out of love for my fellow-beings. I never
flinched; everyone could count on me: I sacrificed myself. But
now I want to sacrifice myself for one person alone, to exist for
one person alone, and not for everybody all the time. I want to
exist for the man I love. For you ... I have no one else in the
world! I am as much alone as you" (p. 52). But her offered
heroism is illusory, as through it she is hoping to gain an identity
rather than resigning herself to losing one. Finally, Fraulein
Doktor, who works singlemindedly in the comic, insane conviction
that King Solomon wants her to achieve world power, cannot see
her absurdity. She recognizes her triumph as grotesque ("It all
adds up, and the answer comes out in favor, not of the world, but
of an old hunchbacked spinster" p. 92), but not as illusory. She
cannot see her absurdity in being the last of a strange family line,
the presiding psychiatrist over an institution full of her insane
relatives, and the manipulator of a world cartel when the world
could blow up.

In contrast, Mobius has come to terms with the irrationality
of the universe fifteen years before the opening of the play. In
careful use of his limited power, he has carried out a sacrifice of
himself believing that he will thus preserve human life. Fraulein
Doktor's revelation that his disguise was penetrated and his
knowledge stolen from him strips his sacrifice of its meaning.

However, Mobius seems to have seen the possibility of this
absurd end much earlier in his life. He has chosen King Solomon

as his "informer." I Kings 3:9 tells the story that Solomon, on
becoming king as an inexperienced young man, asked God not for
wealth or power but for understanding: "Give thy servant
therefore an understanding mind to govern thy people, that I may
discern between good and evil; for who is able to govern this thy
great people?" Solomon was given wisdom "beyond measure, and
largeness of mind like the sand on the seashore" (I Kings 4:29),
and in addition, because he had not asked for them, wealth and
power. In his old age Solomon departed from God's ways, and in
retribution God stripped Solomon's son Rehoboam of power and
wealth when he became king.

Mobius uses King Solomon as a metaphor for the insight he
has into the irrationality of the universe. The "wisdom and un-
derstanding beyond measure" which are Solomon's in the
traditional sense are Mobius' in a contemporary sense: Mobius
has the largeness of vision to see that rationality is illusory.
Mobius tells Monika: "But I have always remained faithful to
King Solomon. He thrust himself into my life, suddenly, unbid-
den, he abused me, he destroyed my life, but I have never
betrayed him" (p. 53). At that time we assume he is speaking as
an insane man of the penalties of a vision we consider to be
imaginary. In retrospect we can see that, perfectly sane, Mobius is
insisting on the irrevocable quality of man's moment of
realization that the universe is incomprehensible and that man is
absurd.

After Fraulein Doktor's announcement, Mobius sees himself
as a representative of mankind, an old King Solomon who has
lost his kingdom. In the absurdity that man must bear guilt for
his intellect, Mobius is responsible for the loss of the kingdom.
But Newton, Eistein, and Fraulein Doktor are guilty also. Only
Mobius sees what has happened and mourns the loss. He has
broken out of the comic world; his tragedy, and that of Romulus,
Ubelohe, and 111, is that he can go no further because there is no
other world.

Durrenmatt's heroes, although they are shaped by the
heaviness of disappointment, meaninglessness, and absurdity, are
not ponderous. Durrenmatt's plays reverberate with comedy from
beginning to end: stock comic situations, frivolous banter, scenery
flying up and down, and epic speeches contribute to the lightness
of atmosphere with which he captures the profound sadness that
is at the center of life. Art, Durrenmatt writes, appears where
least expected. "Literature must become so light that it will weigh
nothing against the scale of today's literary criticism; only in this
way will it regain its true worth" (p. 39, Problems). Similarly, the
Durrenmatt hero is so transparent, having relinquished every
illusion in his recognition of the absurdity of the world, that he
"weighs nothing" against the standards of society. Only in his

lightness that of the resigned Romulus, the spurned Ubelohe,
the eternal Akki, the sacrificed 111, and the defeated Mobius
can man break through the intractable, comic world for the one
moment of vision that grants him heroic dignity.

Elizabeth Johns
Assistant Professor English
Savannah State College
Savannah, Georgia 31404

Candidate for the Ph.D. in General Studies
Institute of the Liberal Arts,
Emory University

FOOTNOTES

^riedrich Durrenmatt, The Marriage of Mr. Mississippi and
Problems of the Theatre (New York: Grove Press, 1958). All
pages cited from this essay are from this edition.

2 , Four Plays (New York: Grove Press, 1965).

3 , The Marriage of Mr. Mississippi, above edition.
All pages cited from this play are from this edition.

4 , Four Plays, above edition. All pages cited from the
play An Angel Comes to Babylon are from this edition.

5 , The Visit (New York: Grove Press, 1962). All
pages cited from this play are from this edition.

6 , The Physicists (New York: Grove Press, 1964). All
pages cited from this play are from this edition.

INCOME PROFILE OF SAVANNAH RESIDENTS:

A COMPARISON OF THE STATUS OF

BLACK AND NON-BLACK FAMILIES

Max Theo Johns

I. Introduction.

The decennial United States Census of Population contains
massive volumes of statistics on social and economic aspects of
American life. It is a fact, however, that these data are usually
not made publicly accessible to the degree of yielding more than a
small fraction of their potential information. There have not in
the past been sufficiently energetic attempts to transform sterile
numerical census data into the kind of social and economic infor-
mation that is needed to inform the non-expert citizen about his
society and community.

Recent censuses have provided particularly interesting
statistical series which, when analyzed and interpreted satisfac-
torily, provide very relevant information about American society
from a variety of viewpoints. It is possible today to extract from
the census much information on the social and economic con-
ditions of the local community. There are, for instance, detailed
treatments of economic and social data 1 given for each of the
nation's 240 or so standard metropolitan statistical areas
(SMSA's). These statistical treatments are in the form of census
tract 2 breakdowns. Analyses and interpretations such as those
presented below are made possible by the availability of such
detailed "grassroots" materials as these.

The term SMSA denotes a geographical unit composed of a
city and its contigious environs, the total population of the unit
being at least 50,000. Census economists, in developing the con-
cept of SMSA, sought to create a geographic unit which possessed
economic integrity and which, therefore, could be considered to
be an economic system in its own right. The goal of this endeavor
was to frame, for census focus, geographic units which have
greater economic integrity than the state, which is too inclusive,
and the corporate city, which usually excludes a substantial por-
tion of its actual economic system. The county is the basic
building block of the SMSA, each one being composed of one or
more counties. There are six SMSA's located wholly or partially
in the state of Georgia. These SMSA's and the counties which

1. The term "census" normally denotes total count of the population.
However, most of the socio-economic data gathered by presentday U. S. censuses
are from samples of 20 percent of the population. One out of every five subjects
contacted gives answers to a large set of social and economic questions in addition
to the demographic questions which are answered by all subjects. Error in the
socio-economic data resulting from the use of samples rather than total count is
small due to abundantly large samples.

2. The data which are analyzed and interpreted here come from the volume
entitled Census Tracts, Savannah, Georgia Standard Metropolitan Statistical
Area (PHC(1)-193), Census of Population and Housing, 1970, U. S. Bureau of the
Census.

comprise them are: Savannah: Chatham 3 ; Augusta: Richmond
and Aiken (S. C); Chattanooga: Walker, Catoosa, and Hamilton
(Tenn.); Atlanta: Cobb, Fulton, DeKalb, Gwinnett, and Clayton;
Columbus: Muscogee, Chattahoochee, and Russell (Ala.);
Albany: Dougherty.

The census tract was created in an effort to establish a
homogeneous microgeographic observation unit within the city or
SMSA. In order to develop the actual census tracts for a city the
Census Bureau works with local experts to draw up the
geographic boundaries of the tracts. They attempt to establish
statistical units which correspond to neighborhoods whose
residents tend to have similiarity with respect to such economic
elements as race, education, and income. Within the Savannah
SMSA there are fifty-four populated tracts. It is the Savannah
census tract which forms the observation unit for this study.

Information extracted from the census can provide answers
to many questions of importance to the community. The impor-
tant questions which this paper attempts to answer have to do
with variation in the economic well-being of families in the
Savannah area. The following pages show that wide variations in
family income exist throughout the city as one examines and in-
terprets the census statistics from neighborhood to neighborhood.
Family income ranges from $1,956 per year in the poorest neigh-
borhood to $12,186 per year in the most affluent. There is also
demonstrated to be extreme variation between families along
racial lines. Average annual income for Black families, at $4,723,
is less than half as high as average yearly income for non-Black
families, $9,772. More interesting than such single-value com-
parisons as these are the probability income distributions given in
Table 3. These show, in terms of mathematical probability, the
propensity, in neighborhood after neighborhood, for Black
families to fall into the lower income classes and the inclination
of non-Black families to receive incomes in higher income
categories.

II. Income Profile.

The economic well-being of a community is best measured by
median family income. Family (as opposed to individual) income
is the most meaningful income magnitude since most economic
activity is carried out for the ultimate purpose of supporting
family households. Further, most goods and services are pur-
chased and consumed on a household-family basis. The median
as a measure of central tendency (average) for community income
is preferrable to its alternative, the arithmetic mean, since the
median provides a measure which is more solidly grounded to the
typical family income in the community. Median family income is

3. The Bureau of the Census has recently decided to add two counties to the
Savannah SMSA: Effingham and Bryan Counties.

the level of income above which half of the families earn and
below which half the families earn. This measure of average
family income tends to be an accurate indication of the economic
well-being of families in a community since its value is deter-
mined jointly by the size of incomes and by the distribution of
families along the income scale. The arithmetic mean, on the
other hand, is calculated by summing up all family incomes and
dividing by the number of families in the community. Given the
number of families, then, the arithmetic mean is determined
solely by income size. Relative to our present need this variable
can be given an unrealistically large or small value by the oc-
currence of a few very high or a few very low incomes. In either
case the mean would be a measure of central tendency which is
distorted by the extreme values and thus is not representative of
typical family income.

To obtain a preliminary focus on the spread of family in-
comes between census tracts within the Savannah SMSA, look at
Table 1. This table arrays the area's census tracts relative to
median family income and provides the total population for each

Table 1. Array by Median Family Income, Census Tracts of

Savannah SMSA

Census Tract

Median Family

Population

Number

Income

$1,956

557

2,297

883

2,534

1,051

2,608

2,776

2,744

1,001

2,890

1,953

3,541

2,115

4,000

1,701

4,290

915

4,356

3,784

4,393

7,428

4,453

1,918

4,574

2,025

4,638

3,916

4,884

4,085

5,237

1,491

5,450

2,096

5,887

2,991

5,907

1,295

5,996

3,520

6,143

4,033

106.02

6,552

2,680

6,725

1,173

6,760

3,816

6,967

3,404

33
26
9

36.01

102

105

35.01

108

107

109

106.01

101

36.02

35.02

110

42.02

111

42.01

Source: Census Tracts, Savannah SMSA (PHC(1)-193).

census tract as well as its identification number 4 . Viewing the
distribution of Savannah census tracts as an array, from the
lowest median family income to the highest, one is able to see
clearly that there is considerable dispersion of family incomes
prevailing between the tracts. The range of the distribution is
$10,230, the difference between the bottom census tract (median
family income of $1,956) and the top (median family income of
$12,186). The median level of these median incomes falls equally
on two census tracts since, with an even number of tracts, 54,
there is not a single one lying on the median point. The median
tracts are number 26, with a median family income of $7,112, and
number 9, with a median family income of $7,433. Both of these

7,069

4,980

7,112

2,139

7,433

1,006

7,744

2,284

7,929

4,236

4,600

8,088

1,216

8,284

4,278

8,523

1,512

8,589

3,475

8,699

7,908

8,727

5,135

8,935

4,732

9,221

1,672

9,265

2,243

9,329

5,619

9,354

3,194

9,407

5,352

10,205

4,764

10,374

6,282

10,650

5,106

10,701

4,539

10,988

4,439

11,097

3,554

11,389

6,618

11,527

2,524

11,646

2,050

11,843

7,830

12,186

11,760

4. The Savannah SMSA Census Tract volume (PHC(1)-193) provides a map
of the area which identifies by this number the boundaries of each census tract
within the area.

tracts lie within the city proper and have, for Savannah, a
moderate degree of residential integration. Census tract number
26, with Black people making up almost one-fifth of its
population, is bounded on the north by 34th Street, on the west by
Habersham Street, Victory Drive on the south, and on the east by
Atlantic Avenue. Tract number 9 has seven percent of its
population composed of Negro people. Lying in the inner city, it
faces Liberty Street on the north, Bull Street on the west, Gaston
Street on the south, and Price Street on the east.

Our present purpose, however, is not to study overall family
income as such. Quite interesting socio-economic information can
be gained from the data if they are reworked somewhat. There
are separate listings in the census tract volume for each tract
which contains more than 400 Negroes. The data reported in
these listings follow closely the tabular forms found in the total
population listings. One can use these Negro series to separate
out data pertaining only to non-Blacks. By doing this one creates
data series for the comparison of socio-economic variables bet-
ween Black and non-Black families for the 32 census tracts in
which there is a significantly large Negro population. The 22 cen-
sus tracts in which the Black population numbers less than 400
are considered to be all non-Black. There are two census tracts in
which all the residents are Negro. Comparisons of socio-economic
variables between Black and non-Black families are much more
pertinent than the comparison of Black variables to those of the
total population. Only the latter, a relatively weak type of com-
parison, can be accomplished with the census data in its
published form.

Table 2 is used to demonstrate the steps which were taken to
rework the basic census material so as to provide the data for
some of the analysis presented later in the report. Black v. non-
Black comparative income data were needed. Census tract num-
ber 5 has a total of 591 families, 405 of which are Black. Since the
tract contains more than 400 Black people there are separate
Negro data series which parallel the total population series. The
Negro listings, however, take a troublesome departure from the
total population listings in the deletion of specific income classes
above the level of $10,000 family income per year. 5 Specific

5. Throughout this paper the present tense is used with respect to values of
the socio-economic variables studied. It must be remembered, however, that the
data are from the census taken in 1970 and are, therefore, at least three years old.
The income data are actually 4 years old, being based on earnings for the
preceding year, 1969. One could effect an acceptable adjustment for 1973 in the in-
come data by incrementing each by some twenty percent, in accordance with in-
creases in the consumers' price index which have occurred since 1969. Such
mechanical adjustments as this will generally suffice at the present, a point in
time relatively close to the time of the census. However, the reliability of estimates
obtained this way diminishes rapidly over the passage of years. This is one good
reason why Congres should be encouraged to fund a program for 5-year censuses
which has been proposed by the Bureau of the Census.

classes are supplanted by the open end class "$10,000 or more"
which, for this census tract, contains 14 Black families are appor-
tioned among the high income classes according to the propor-
tions obtaining in the total listing. This procedure brings about
an equality of proportions between Black and non-Black families

Table 2. Census Tract Number 5, Income Distribution Among
Families

Income

Total

Black

Non-Black

Class

Families

in Income

Class

Class*

Less than $1,000

$1,000 to $1,999

131

$2,000 to $2,999

162

112

$3,000 to $3,999

$4,000 to $4,999

$5,000 to $5,999

$6,000 to $6,999

$7,000 to $7,999

$8,000 to $8,999

$9,000 to $9,999

$10,000 to $11,999

(3)

$12,000 to $14,999

(7)

$15,000 to $24,999

(2)

$25,000 to $49,999

(0)

$50,000 or more

(2)

Total

591

405

186

Median Family Income $2,608 $2,594 $2,640*

*data obtained by manipulation of census series.
Source: Census Tracts, Savannah SMSA (PHC(1)-193).

within the high income classes. This is doubtless at odds with
reality, giving an upward bias to the income distribution of Black
families. However, let it be noted that the upward bias does not
affect the estimated median income (see below) since its position
is determined by location of incomes along the scale and not by
the sizes of incomes in the extreme regions of the scale. Most cer-
tainly, moreover, the slight distortion resulting from this appor-
tioning constitutes a smaller loss than the gain for the analysis
resulting from the retention of specific income classes in the
above $10,000 range. The rightmost column of Table 2 shows the
number of non-Black families that remain in each income class
after the subtraction of the Black families.

The median non-Black family income for the census tract is
estimated according to a conventional interpolation procedure
which uses the following formula:

Median = L + N/2 ~ S (C) where

m N

m = lower limit of income class in which median is found,
N = total number of families,

S = sum of families in income classes prior to median class,
C = size of median income class, and

m = number of families in median income class.

When the values of these variables for census tract number 5
are plugged into the equation the following results are obtained:

Median non-Black Family Income = $2,000 + 93 - 61 ($1,000)

50
= $2,640.

Median family incomes for both Black and non-Black families
living in each census tract are presented in Table 3. One is able to
appreciate the sharp income differences between these groups by
comparing their median family incomes for each census tract. But
of greater interest than this single-value comparison of economic
wellbeing is the more comprehensive picture of the income

Table 3. Probability of Family Having Income of a Given Level,
Black (B) versus Non-Black (NB), for Residents of Savannah
SMSA Census Tracts

Census Tract Number

Income Level:

Below $3,000

100

3,000-6,000

6,000-9,000

9,000-12,000

100

12,000-15,000

Above 15,000

Med. Family

Income

$2,477

$9,500

$2,000

$500

$8,523

Total Families

212

148

283

% Black

97.7

97.4

Census Tract Number
5 6

Income Level:

B NB

Below $3,000

61 60

3,000-6,000

26 19

6,000-9,000

9 3

9,000-12,000

1 4

12,000-15,000

2 8

Above 15,000

1 6

Med. Family

Income

$2,608 $2,640

$4,393

$2,222

$2,297

Total Families

405 186

1721

180

% Black

68.5

98.9

100.0

Census Tract Number
8 9

Income Level:

B NB

Below $3,000

3,000-6,000

6,000-9,000

8 100

9,000-12,000

12,000-15,000

Above 15,000

Med. Family

Income

$4,290

$7,433

$3,472 $6,500

Total Families

258

193

522 17

% Black

96.9

Census Tract Number
11

Income Level:

B NB B

B NB

Below $3,000

37 19 56

39 32

3,000-6,000

27 26

35 16

6,000-9,000

21 14

20 14

9,000-12,000

10 45 2

4 11

12,000-15,000

3 19

1 13

Above 15,000

2 17 2

1 14

Med. Family

Income

$4,665 $10,692 $2,744

$3,739 $6,222

Total Families

717 58 191

299 63

% Black

92.5 100.0

82.6

Census Tract Number
15

Income Level:

B NB

Below $3,000

31 10

54 60

3,000-6,000

26 35

31 40

6,000-9,000

33 26

9,000-12,000

5 15

5 100

12,000-15,000

1 7

Above 15,000

4 7

Med. Family

Income

$4,850 $6,667

$2,895 $2,889

$4,387 $9,500

Total Families

119 154

428 15

415 7

% Black

43.6

96.6

98.3

Census Tract Number
19

Income Level:

B NB B NB

Below $3,000

32 11 8

3,000-6,000

36 43 37

6,000-9,000

18 22 25

9,000-12,000

10 25 11 15

12,000-15,000

1 25 6 7

Above 15,000

3 50 7 8

Med. Family

Income

$4,417

$5,167

$4,338 $15,000 $5,734 $6,66

Total Families

330

105

845 4 495 364

% Black

75.9

99.5 57.6

Census Tract Number

Income Level:
Below $3,000
3,000-6,000
6,000-9,000
9,000-12,000
12,000-15,000
Above 15,000
Med. Family

Income
Total Families
% Black

NB
20

21
30

7
15

B
21

22
34
5
7
12

12
16
26
13
8
16

16
42
14
12
12
8

25
23
14
13
9

$6,725 $6,538 $7,267 $5,843 $7,165

318 88 485 139 830

15.4 14.3

Census Tract Number
28

Income Level:

B NB

Below $3,000

23 16

3,000-6,000

23 26

6,000-9,000

23 28

9,000-12,000

15 16

12,000-15,000

8 7

Above 15,000

8 7

Med. Family

Income

$6,615 $7,029

$11,097

$11,527

Total Families

639 337

1063

731

% Black

65.5

Census Tract Number
32

Income Level:

B NB

B NB B NB

Below $3,000

29 8

13 31 3

3,000-6,000

32 49

27 34 18 13

6,000-9,000

18 21

29 16 21

9,000-12,000

18 22

18 22 11 22

12,000-15,000

2 4

9 22 7 12

Above 15,000

1 3

4 22 17 29

Med. Family

Income

$5,128 $6,091

$7,054 $11,500 $6,250 $10,61

Total Families

326 158

1143 9 164 1646

% Black

67.4

99.2 9.1

Census Tract Number

35.01

35.02

36.01

Income Level:

NB B

Below $3,000

6 8

3,000-6,000

10 19

6,000-9,000

23 30

9,000-12,000

24 26

12,000-15,000

18 11

Above 15,000

19 6

Med. Family

Income

$8,589

$10,205 $7,775

$8,000

Total Families

960

1214 121

1044

% Black

10.4

Census Tract Number

36.02

Income Level:

Below $3,000

3,000-6,000

6,000-9,000

9,000-12,000

12,000-15,000

Above 15,000

Med. Family

Income

$9,407

$7,744

$9,625

Total Families

1423

672

611

% Black

Census Tract Number
39

Income Level:

Below $3,000

3,000-6,000

6,000-9,000

9,000-12,000

12,000-15,000

Above 15,000

Med. Family

Income

$10,988

$11,843

$11,646

Total Families

1112

2126

532

% Black

Census Tract Number

42.01

42.02

Income Level:

Below $3,000

3,000-6,000

6,000-9,000

9,000-12,000

12,000-15,000

Above 15,000

Med. Family

Income

$12,186

$10,701

$7,92

Total Families

3101

1218

505

% Black

Census Tract Number

101

Income Level:

Below $3,000

3,000-6,000

6,000-9,000

9,000-12,000

12,000-15,000

Above 15,000

Med. Family

Income

$4,989

$8,000

$6,032

$6,575

$9,667

$9,205

Total Families

323

803

168

492

% Black

92.0

89.0

25.5

Census Tract Number

102

105

106.01

Income Level:

Below $3,000

3,000-6,000

6,000-9,000

9,000-12,000

12,000-15,000

Above 15,000

Med. Family

Income

$8,088

$8,284

$4,460 $10,036

Total Families

298

1216

261

1252

% Black

17.3

Census Tract Number
106.02

107

108

Income Level:

B NB

Below $3,000

34 7

3,000-6,000

36 12

6,000-9,000

26 31

9,000-12,000

2 24

12,000-15,000

1 13

Above 15,000

1 13

Med. Family

Income

$4,326

$8,403

$4,586

$9,042

$3,981 $9,012

Total Families

279

383

1186

163 1836

% Black

42.2

7.5

8.2

Census Tract Number

109 110 111

Income Level:

B NB

Below $3,000

28 9

3,000-6,000

34 10

6,000-9,000

14 17

9,000-12,000

9 20

12,000-15,000

4 11

Above 15,000

11 33

Med. Family

Income

$9,221

$4,722 $11,088

$11,389

Total Families

435

107 1237

1834

% Black

8.0

situation of Black and non-Black residents of Savannah census
tracts which is provided by the probabilities of Table 3.

The probabilities section of Table 3 is constructed as follows.
The number lying to the right of a given income class indicates
the probability of a family, Black (B) and non-Black (NB), living
in the designated census tract, earning an income within that in-
come class. For example, consider census tract number 13. Black
families living in that neighborhood have a median income of
$3,739. But one can understand more thoroughly the economic
situation of Black families in that census tract by examining the
income probability distribution. Observe, first, that the
probability of a family's earnings lying in the lowest income class
is 39; that is, a black family residing in census tract 13 has 39
chances out of 100 of earning income less than $3,000. The
family's probability of earning from $3,000 to $6,000 is 35. Fur-
ther, the probability of its earnings being below $9,000 per year is
the sum of the probabilities of all income classes below the $9,000
to $12,000 class, or 94. To look at this probability from the other
end of the income scale, the Black family residing in this census
tract has only six chances out of one hundred of earning income
greater than $9,000 per year. Note that non-Black families living
in the same census tract have a probability of 38 of earning an in-
come of at least $9,000.

Consider some cases that are important with regard to their
statistical positions. Look at the census tract in which Negro
family income is the lowest. This is tract number 2, located in the
northwestern corner of the inner city. It is bordered on the north
by the Savannah River, on the west by Fahm Street, on the south
by Hull Street, and it faces West Broad Street on the east.
Residing in this census tract are 148 Black families whose
median income is $2,000. The probability of a Black family ear-
ning income less than $3,000 is 78. The probability is 100 (cer-
tainty) that the Black family in this neighborhood receives less
than $6,000. It is interesting to note that the probability is certain

non- Black families living in this census tract to have an income of
less than $3,000. The four non-Black families living in this census
tract have a median income of $500. No family can survive on in-
come this small. Therefore, these families are supported from
economic sources which are outside the census Bureau's
categories of income. A possible source is help from relatives.
There are doubtless such anomolous cases present in all census
distributions. But they are usually not of sufficient importance to
affect materially the estimate of group average as they do here.

The median position in the Savannah distribution of median
family incomes for Negroes is shared by two census tracts, num-
bers 107 and 11. The first of these tracts lies to the northeast of
the city and encloses the town of Port Wentworth. The 96 Black
families residing in this tract have a median income of $4,586.
The most probable income class for these families is between
$3,000 and $6,000, there being 48 chances out of 100 for the
family to have income of that magnitude. The probability of ear-
ning in the respectable class of $6,000 to $9,000 is 13 and there is
even a probability of 12 of the Black family receiving above
$9,000. However, the chances of a Black family living in Port
Wentworth receiving a poverty income of less than $3,000 is 27
out of 100.

The above income probabilities should be compared to the
expectations of the 1186 non-Black families residing in this cen-
sus tract. The most likely income class for a non-Black family in
Port Wentworth is $6,000 to $9,000, the chances for that class
being 28 out of 100. But there are only slightly less chances for
family earnings to be between $9,000 and $12,000, the probability
for that class being 27. There is a probability of 23 for the non-
Black family to earn in excess of $12,000 per year and only a five
percent probability for its earning less than $3,000.

Census Tract number 11, in which is found the other median
income level for Black families, is located in the northeastern sec-
tion of the city in the old Brownsville area. It lies on both sides of
Wheaton Street between the Atlantic Coast Line Railroad and
Jones Canal, being bounded on the south by Herndon Lane and
Bolton Street and on the north by the city line. The median
family income for Negroes in this section is $4,665. The
probability of any of the 717 Black families that live there
receiving income of $3,000 or less is 37. The chances out of 100 of
a Black family earning in the income class $3,000 to $6,000 are
27 and they are 21 for reaching the level $6,000 to $9,000. Beyond
this income level are found few Black families, the probability
being 10 for receiving a yearly income between $9,000 and
$12,000, and only 5 percent for earning in excess of $12,000.

The 58 non-Black families living in census tract number 11
have a median income of $10,692, with the probability being 81
that earnings will exceed $9,000 per year. A family in this group
has 17 chances out of one hundred of receiving more than

$15,000. Yet there is a rather large probability, 17, for the non-
Black family to receive a poverty income of $3,000 or less.

Perhaps the most interesting census tract of all in the Savan-
nah area income profile for Negro families is number 101, which
has the highest median income for Black families. This tract is in
two parts. The northern part lies directly east of the city between
the city line and the Savannah River, being composed mainly of
unhabited meadowlands and marshes. The southern part of num-
ber 101 corresponds to the town of Thunderbolt. There are 168
Black families in this census tract, a community which is con-
tigious to Savannah State College. With a median income of
$9,667, the Black families living in this tract are the most affluent
families in the whole Savannah Negro community. The chances
are 15 out of 100 of a family earning income greater than $15,000.
The probability of earning in excess of $12,000 is 31 percent and
it is 58 percent for earning more than $9,000. Further, the chances
are only 5 out of 100 of the Black family receiving $3,000 or less
per year.

The high incomes earned by Negro families in the Thunder-
bolt community are unquestionably due to the influence of
Savannah State College. Many people with professional training
who are associated with the College live in this community. And
professional levels of education command relatively high in-
comes.

III. Summary and Conclusion.

On preceding pages the reader has been invited to compare
incomes and income class probabilities as they differ between
Black and non-Black families in census tracts selected from
Table 3. You are now asked to look at some comparisons for the
whole Savannah metropolitan area. Table 4 has been constructed
from census summary statistics for the entire Savannah SMSA.
The non-Black entries were obtained by the method used for
Table 2, page 8. Savannah median income for Black families is
$4,723 and for non-Blacks, $9,772. The ratio of the former to the
latter is .483.

Another basis for comparison of Black with non-Black
family incomes is provided by the probabilities of Table 3. Look,
for instance, at the following summary probabilities for the
lowest and highest income classes:

Black Families Non-Black -

Families
Median Probability of
Lowest Income Class 31.5 8.5

Median Probability of

Highest Income Class 3.0 11.5

The probability of falling in the lowest income class is more
than 3 times as great for the Black family in Savannah as it is for
the non-Black family. The probability of earning income in the
highest income class is less than 1/3 for Black families as it is for
non-Black families. For the Black family, the probability of
falling in the lowest income category is more than ten times as
great as the probability of falling in the highest income class. For
the non-Black family the probability of earning in the highest in-
come class is greater by 3 points than is its probability of falling
in the lowest income class.

Many points of comparison such as these can be devised from
the data provided in Table 3. The reader can improve his under-
staing of relative levels of economic wellbeing by working out
some of his own.

Table 4. Summary Income Statistics for Savannah SMSA
Income Total Black Non-Black

Class

Less than $1,000
$1,000 to $1,999
$2,000 to $2,999
$3,000 to $3,999
$4,000 to $4,999
$5,000 to $5,999
$6,000 to $6,999
$7,000 to $7,999
$8,000 to $8,999
$9,000 to $9,999
$10,000 to $11,999
$12,000 to $14,999
$15,000 to $24,999
$25,000 to $49,999
$50,000 or more
Total
Median Family Income

Families

in Income

Class

1,579

1,098

481

2,592

1,662

930

2,774

1,638

1,136

2,975

1,584

1,391

2,773

1,413

1,360

3,225

1,398

1,827

3,364

1,158

2,206

3,411

897

2,514

3,229

655

2,574

3,321

651

2,670

5,489

(575)

4,914

5,456

(570)

4,886

5,400

(564)

4,836

1,101

(115)

986

280

(29)

251

46,969

14,007

32,962

$8,245

$4,723

$9,772

Source: Census Tracts, Savannah SMSA (PHC(1)-193).

Whether one compares distributions of income probabilities
or computes the ratio of Black median income to non-Black
median income, one finds evidence of great differences between
Black and non-Black levels of economic wellbeing. The focus of
this paper is on these differences themselves and not on why the
differences exist. A few comments on the latter question, however,
may be in order.

The income of a family is composed of earnings received
from the sale of its resources. These earnings depend largely on
the price which prevails in the market for these resources. Since

the resource base of most families consists of some form of labor,
the determination of income is largely made by the price which
an employer is willing to pay for the specific human services
which the family's breadwinner(s) offers for sale. This price is it-
self the result of the current market conditions, economic factors
which are specific to the individual transaction, and various non-
economic elements. To disentangle and measure market forces
and the other economic factors (not to mention the non-economic
elements) is an awesome obstacle to the task of assessing the con-
tribution made by each to the determination of a particular
resource price and such assessment is by no means attempted in
these short comments.

Current market conditions consist of broad demand and sup-
ply forces. These would be quite important in a period of
depression, when demand is low in general, or in a boom period,
when demand is higher than normal.

More important than general market conditions in the
question of income differences between households are specific at-
tributes governing the monetary value to the employer of the
labor services which the household offers for sale. The person
who is more productive will be more valuable to the employer
and, other things the same, will receive a price for this labor
which is proportionally higher. (The "other things" caveat is very
important and will be covered shortly.) For instance, if a worker
has a special gift for a certain type of work his productivity will
generally be greater than average. Or, perhaps, even with no
special aptitude, a worker may produce and earn more than his
peers because of exceptionally high motivation. Good or bad
health often influence productivity on the job. A person's
economic productivity, however, depends more than anything else
on the amount of training and educational preparation which he
brings to the job. The most important single determinant of a per-
son's value to an employer and, consequently, his earnings, seems
to be the level of education attained by the person. 5

While the above economic considerations are powerful in
their influence on earnings, by no means do they provide the total
determination of family income. There are many non-economic
factors which create income differences. A person might be
ignorant of the fact that there are, in the same area, higher
paying job opportunities that are open to workers of his category.
Another example would be the case in which there are unique
non-economic attributes of a particular situation which are of
sufficient importance to an individual to compensate for a
significant earnings deficit. It is not difficult to imagine ad-

5. A similar relationship seems to hold for communities. A companion
research project to the present one is going to explore the functional relationship
between median family income for a census tract and the median number of years
of school completed by adult residents of the tract.

ditional non-economic elements such as these and there are many
of them to be found in any labor market contributing to differen-
ces in family incomes within the community. One non-economic
factor, however, is more important than all the rest: racial
discrimination. All other things the same, the person who is
Black receives a lower pay for his work than the person who is
non-Black.

It is hoped that the comparisons and interpretations made
here will not be accepted by the reader as final statements on in-
come differences in the community. Perhaps the most valuable
use which the reader might make of this paper is for him to use
its analyses only as interpretative guidelines for the statistical in-
formation which has been presented. Table 3 affords much
material out of which the reader can construct his own inter-
pretations and comparisons. By doing this he can acquire new un-
derstanding of the varying levels of economic wellbeing at which
are found the forty-seven thousand families of the Savannah
area.

100

THE EVOLVING BLACK CHURCH

Otis S. Johnson

In a hostile "white man's world", the black man has been
allowed an opportunity for self-expression and status in one in-
stitution his church. With his structured social life in the
church, the Afro-American slave could give expression to his
deepest feelings and release his pent-up emotions, and at the
same time, the freedmen before Emancipation found status in the
church which shielded them from the contempt and
discriminations of the white world. After Emancipation when the
hopes and expectations of acceptance and freedom in the white
man's world were shattered by exclusion of blacks, except on the
basis of inferiority, he found his church, a world which the
white man did not invade, but only regarded with amusement.
The black church could enjoy its freedom as long as it was not a
threat to the white man's dominance of social and economic
relations. The black church, with its other-worldly outlook,
taught the Afro-American to cope with his inferior status and
pray for the release from deprivation and suffering in the next
world.

The social and economic upgrading of the Afro-American
and the direct action policies of some religious leaders suggest
that the traditional theology of other worldliness and accom-
modation is becoming a less dominant feature and a "black
theology of liberation" is being recognized.

Christianizing Slaves

From his earliest arrival in America, the Afro-American was
stripped of his social heritage and his traditional social
organization as the result of the manner in which he was en-
slaved and became the labor force in the plantation economy. All
family ties and bonds of kinship were severed and African
historical traditions were suppressed by whites. 1

In the Eighteenth Century a systematic attempt was made by
the Church of England to Christianize Afro -Americans beginning
with the formation of the Society for the Propagation of the
Gospel. This society was clearly directed toward conversion of
slaves, especially children, and was conducted under very
carefully controlled conditions acceptable to white slave owners.
Baptist and Methodist missionaries carried a Christian message
to the Afro-American which was designed first and foremost to
generate belief in a gospel of hope and future bliss, not to hold
out the promise of an immediate end to earthly troubles. 2

A study of the religious instruction in the colony of Georgia
will give some insight into the methods of instruction and the dif-
ficulties encountered.

Less than three months after the legal permission of slaves in
Georgia in 1749, the Associates of Dr. Bray allotted a small fund
for instruction of slaves on plantations and created the position of

101

catechist. The fund yielded twenty-five pounds a year. An ap-
plication was made to the Society for the Propagation of the
Gospel for an equal amount but the Society only voted to allocate
fifteen pounds to this purpose. This came to a yearly salary of
forty pounds. In 1750, Joseph Ottolenghe petitioned for the
position as catechist. He was a convert from Judiasm and, being
born in Italy, had a knowledge of silk-culture. The Trustees ap-
pointed Ottolenghe to the position, it is believed, because of his
aforementioned knowledge. 3

James Habersham wrote, "... I hope He may be of Service
in the Instruction of the poor benighted Negroes in the Principles
of Christianity, which has often engaged my thoughts." 4

Ottolenghe instructed the slaves for more than eight years.
During that time a house was built (1758). He wrote:

I Have built a Large Room with a large Chimney for the
use of these poor souls, the Latter extremely necessary
for them who are of a chill constitution, ill fed and worse
clothed, that many are not fit to be seen by modest Eye;
and while in Summer we're ready to faint with Heat,
they solace themselves round a large fire. 5
Some masters were opposed to baptism in the belief that it
freed a slave even though competent authority had decided that
lawfully this was not the case. Ottolenghe held the position that:
Were I a Minister I would not baptize any as yet,
because I have reason to believe that tho ready to repeat
every Thing as they are instructed yet have very little
Notion or Idea of what they thus repeat, and conse-
quently a Parot might as well be baptize'd as any of
them. 6

The hardest task was overcoming the difference in language,
capacity, and racial temperament. Ottolenghe wrote:

. . . our Negroes are so ignorant of ye English Language,
and none can be found to talk in their own, yt it is a
great while before you can get them to understand what
ye Meanings of Words is & yt without such knowledge
Instruction's would prove Vain & ye Ends propsd abor-
tive, for how can a Proposition be believed, without first
being understood? & how can it be understood if ye Per-
son to whom it is offerd has no Idea even of ye Sound of
those Words which expresses ye Proposition? 7

As illustrated in Ottolenghe's description the Established
Church, with emphasis upon a knowledge of the catechism for
baptism and religious ritual requiring decorum, did not make
much progress with the slaves. However, the slaves were drawn
into a union with their fellow man and through the Christian
religion a new basis for social cohesion was established. In ad-
dition, participation in the same religious services as their
master's drew the slaves out of their isolation in the white
man's world, even though the slaves were seated together in a

102

special section of the church. 8 Among the earliest practices of the
segregation of the Afro-American are those concerned with wor-
ship. An extreme case is that of an ingenious congregation which
erected a partition several feet high to separate slaves from their
masters. 9

The slaves' reaction to their fate was one of submission. They
wished only to find a meaning for their existence in the confusion
and bewilderment of the white man's world. The Bible was the
means by which the slave acquired a new theology. Selected parts
were taught to them, such as the Lord's Prayer, the Ten Comman-
dments, and Biblical stories told in simple language. 10
E. Franklin Frazier explains that the slaves were:
. . . taught that the God with whom they became
acquainted in the Bible was the ruler of the universe and
superior to all other gods. They were taught that the
God of the Bible punished and rewarded black men as
well as white men. Black men were expected to accept
their lot in this world and if they were obedient and
honest and truthful they would be rewarded in the world
after death. 11

Thus, the Afro-American slave adapted the white man's
Christian theology to his psychological and social needs. This
adaptation can be seen in the sacred folk songs or black spirituals
which were religious in sentiment and other-worldly in outlook.
Various themes appear repeatedly in these spirituals, such as the
idea of heaven and a judgment day and preoccupation with death
as an escape from the woes of this world, loneliness of the slave
and the comfort gained by "walking and talking" with God, and
the fellowship experienced by slaves with their fellow men. 12 Ac-
cording to Joseph R. Washington, these spirituals represent the
spirit of the "invisible institution" and lie outside of fervor
related situations of struggle which ended in 1865. There were
songs of great belief, maybe hope, but they were not songs of faith
nor songs of a "growing body of critical theology." 13

The Free Black Church

At the same time that the "invisible institution" of the slave
came into existence, Afro-Americans who were free before the
Civil War left the white Methodist and Baptist church
organizations in which they had a subordinate status and set up
their own churches. The first is believed to have been founded in
Savannah, Georgia by Andrew Bryan; it was the First Bryan
Baptist Church. 14 Richard Allen, a freedman and a convert to
Methodism, and Absalom Jones organized an independent black
church organization, the Free African Society, when they were
removed from St. George Methodist Episcopal Church in
Philadelphia for mistaking the section of the gallery designated
for blacks. Because of their differences in opinion on church
organization, Allen and Jones went their separate ways. Jones
organized the African Protestant Episcopal Church of St.

103

Thomas, while Allen organized the Bethel Church, which became
the African Methodist Episcopal Church in 1816 at a conference
in Philadelphia. 15 Succession from Methodist Churches spread to
many cities, and church organizations were being formed rapidly.
Peter Williams, Sr. joined with other Afro-Americans in
organizing the African Methodist Episcopal Zion Church. Other
denominational churches appeared; independent Baptist
churches were being established in southern and northern cities;
Protestant Episcopal, Presbyterian and Congregational churches
formed on a small scale. 16

After Emancipation, the "invisible institution" of the slave
church was absorbed by the institutional churches which the
Afro-Americans who were free before the Civil War had
established. The fused church organizations became the major
form of stratified social life among the Afro-Americans. The
black church became an agency of social control by condemning
sexual promiscuity and emphasizing institutional family life.
Through economic cooperation churches were erected or bought
and mutual assistance societies were established by pooling
funds. Benevolent societies were established to provide assistance
in time of sickness or death and in 1898 there were nine in
Atlanta alone. 17

Preachers during Reconstruction became political leaders,
but their careers in politics were brief because of the reestablish-
ment of white supremacy in the South. Consequently, the black
church became an "arena for political activities." Ambitious in-
dividuals could achieve status and the masses could vote and
engage in electing their officers, at least in the church. 18

The Effects of Urbanization

Beginning with World War I, the urbanization of Afro-
Americans brought about a transformation of the church and the
black outlook. Social organization was destroyed just as it had
been with the Civil War and Emancipation. The Afro-American
through these experiences acquired a new conception of his
people and of himself. He was able to obtain slightly better jobs
in positions of semi-trust and authority, he could vote, and his
child was able to attend better schools. The result was a new
system of social stratification where three classes emerged. This
caused the church to adapt to the general outlook and religious
requirements of the different classes. 19

In a study by Drake and Cayton of stratification in black
churches in a Chicago community, it was found that class for
class, the black church was not much different from the white
church. Five percent (5% ) of the sample was upper class. The
churches attended were mainly Episcopal, Congregational, and
Presbyterian, all services being intellectually oriented. The lower
class comprised over one-half (65% ) and had less than one-third
(1/3) male membership. It was estimated that approximately one-

104

third (1/3) of the church-oriented people in the lower class
belonged to large lower class churches, one-third (1/3) to churches
dominated by upper class persons, and one-third (1/3) to "store
front churches." Thirty percent of the sample was middle class. It
was found that the large Baptist or Methodist church was typical
and that it was usually a "Mixed-type" church which incor-
porated both lower class behavior (shouting and verbal "amens")
and middle class behavior (restrained service and a sermon with
ethical content). Cults, which are primarily a reaction to the
frustrations of urban life, were shown to attract a relatively small
part of the black population with ten percent of all churches in
the community in Chicago being of this type. 20

Urbanization of the black population has been responsible,
in part, for the increasing integration of Afro-Americans into the
mainstream of American life. With this increased integration, the
social organization of the black communities has changed; con-
sequently, the church has been affected by integration in several
ways. First, the church is less a refuge as the Afro-American has
been forced into competition with whites in most areas of social
life. 21 Second, one saw the emergence of gospel singers whose
songs expressed the deep religious feelings of the black masses.
One of the famous Ward sisters stated that gospel singing is
popular because ". . . it fills a vacuum in peoples' lives. For
people who work hard and make little money, it offers a promise
that things will be better in the life to come." 22 According to
Frazier, they represent the attempt of the Afro-American to
utilize his religious heritage in order to come to terms with
changes in his own institutions as well as the problems of the
world. 23

Third, and the most advanced element in the process of in-
tegration was the emergence of a new middle class. This group,
while they rejected their African heritage, were rejected by the
white middle class and therefore occupied an ambiguous position
in society. Their reaction has been to abandon religion, shift from
church to church, involve themselves in "spiritual" and
"psychic" phenomena, or shift from Baptist and Methodist to
Episcopal, Presbyterian, and Catholic. 24

Finally, as stated previously, the traditional theology of
other-worldliness is becoming a less dominant feature of black
religion. More importantly, as black churchmen are becoming
more aware of the needs of the black man, they are introducing a
"black theology of liberation". At present, black theology is ad-
mittedly in its incipient stages; it is not yet a well defined system
of thought by any means.

The Gospel and Liberation

James Cone, one of the youngest and most prominent black
theologians, holds the conviction that "the gospel is liberation."
According to his former professor, William Hordern, Cone's

105

theology has made a vital contribution by forcing one to recognize
that theology cannot be Christian unless it is identified with the
liberation of the oppressed. 25 Cone makes vague use of the terms
"black and white," but he insists that this ambiguity is indispen-
sable.

. . . theological language must be paradoxical because of
the necessity of affirming two dimensions of reality
which appear to be contradictory. For example, my ex-
perience of being black-skinned means that I cannot de-
emphasize the literal significance of blackness . . . And
because blacks were dehumanized by white-skinned
people who created a cultural style based on black op-
pression, the literal importance of whiteness has
historical referents. 26

However, Mr. Cone explains that through his experience of
blackness, he has also encountered the symbolic significance of
black existence and how it is related to God's revelation in Jesus.
He states the position that the universal has no meaning indepen-
dent of the particular. In other words, the starting point for all
talk about God and man in a society where color is the defining
point of humiliation must be where blackness refers to black-
skinned people who have been oppressed, and whiteness refers to
the people responsible for that oppression. After a serious
realization of the gospel and historical experience is reached,
then the symbolic significance of black and white may be ap-
proached. Cone stresses the point that there can be no universal
understanding of blackness without the particular experience of
blacks, for by being black one understands the ambiguity of the
black experience. 27

In regard to black people as the oppressed, Cone says that he
chose blackness because of his experience and what it means in
white America.

The focus on blackness does not mean that only blacks
suffer as victims in a racist society, but that blackness is
an ontological symbol and a visible reality which best
describes what oppression means in America. 28
Aware of the danger of compressing the gospel into one
theme, which Cone has been accused of with reference to his
statement, "His (God's) revelation is only for the oppressed of the
land", Cone feels that he must risk this danger if he is to remain
faithful to his understanding of the Bible and the struggle of the
oppressed for liberation. Moreover, he states that every
theologian must take his own central theme of the Biblical
message and relate it to his historical situation. Hence, it will
always be necessary to interpret the meaning of the gospel in light
of changing situations. This new "data" as Cone calls it, enhances
the significance of old meanings. 29
Cone states his position by saying that:

Black liberation is the new datum. Theology must now
ask, what is the essence of the gospel in view of the op-

106

pressed and humiliated, the weak and downtrodden? I
contend that it is the good news of liberation . . . God's
stand against oppression is His affirmation that all men
have a common humanity in freedom. This means that I
cannot be free until all men are free. 30

The New Black Theology

Reverend Albert B. Cleage, at the opening talk at a con-
ference on "Black Church Black Theology" at Georgetown
University in 1969 said that black theology is

. . . reflection on the black revolution that has been un-
der way since the 1954 Supreme Court decision on school
desegregation. It is now necessary for the black man to
throw off the slave Christianity that is the source of
black powerlessness. The preacher who talks of a future
heavenly bliss is preaching an escapist psychology and
drawing black men one by one away from a confronting
of their sordid lot. Rather, let the brothers and sisters
come together and through baptism break their iden-
tification with the source of evil, whiteness, in order to
form a black nation that will take salvation into its own
hands. 31

Several other theologians expressed their views on black
theology at the Georgetown conference. Among these was
James DeOtis Roberts of the Howard University School of
Religion. He observed that theology done by white "haves"
doesn't touch the experience of black "have nots". He feels that
the work of the black theologian is difficult due to the fact that he
must use a method that is not only sensitive to the black ex-
perience, but conversant with the traditional framework of
theology. Joseph R. Washington of Albion College feels that
black religion will always be more action and community cen-
tered than worship and doctrine centered. "Soul" is the key to
black religion. "There is no way to soul, soul is the way. The
black theologian must develop a theology of freedom and
revolution that is positive and intelligent," says Washington. 32
Preston N. Williams of Boston University School of
Theology, felt that the black theologian must try to transform
black life with theology. "While white Protestants and Catholics
are laying the plans for unity, the black theologian must lay plans
for the disunity necessary to be the bearer of authentic Christian
values." 33

Rosemary Ruether of Howard University poses the question,
What would be a theology that could be called black and still be
a legitimate form of the gospel? She attempts to answer by saying
that a black theology draws upon the specific context and
historical experience of the Afro-American to reveal the universal
of "biblical anthropology", that is, sin as alienation and redemp-
tion as restored community through grace. She continues by

107

stating that a black theology would show the many ways that
people oppress each other because the black man understands,
perhaps better than any man, the infinite duplicities of the op-
pressor-oppressed relationship. Ruether cites other theological
themes that come out of the black experience. One such them is
power, not in the sense of oppressive power, but divine power.
"Power is man restored to his integrity and creativity so that his
actions directly and effectively express his soul. Power is par-
ticipation in the making of one's destiny." 34

According to Ruether, black theology is also an affirmation
of the goodness of creation. She uses the phrase "Black is
Beautiful" to illustrate a restatement of the Biblical doctrine of
man. When God looked at His creation, everything was beautiful.
There was no exclusive standard of beauty; rather, it was left up
to the individual to ascertain the beauty of the whole. Ruether
adds that the cry "Black is Beautiful" is also a cry for redemp-
tion, for the restoration of one's natural integrity against the
debasement into which one has fallen. A black theology is one of
revolution, she says. It brings judgment upon a white system
based on false principles and demands its overthrow; then the
recreation of a new world based on brotherhood. She goes further
in stating that the gospel is one of revolution because it calls for
the radical conversion of man in society and history and points to
man's collective sins. She concludes by saying:

The hope for salvation is ultimately the hope for the
coming of the kingdom of God; the hope for a new man
in a new world, where the oppressive structures of the
present system have been revolutionized and a new era
of peace, goodness and truth has dawned. This vision
has always been central to black hopes, black preaching,
and black music. 35

An attempt was made by the National Committee of Black
churchmen at the Interdenominational Theological Center in
Atlanta, Georgia in 1969, to hammer out a common position on
black theology.

The co-chairman of the committee, Preston N. Williams,
commented on several aspects of the committee's statement.
First, he explained that black theology exists because the
Christian church has not spoken forth-rightly and relevantly to
the black experience. It seeks to help black people and all victims
of injustice to understand their experience with God and with
each other. 36

William defines black theology as another of the many forms
theology has taken and that it has all the faults and virtues of
any other form. Black theology asserts that God's word for the
black man and every man is freedom and liberation, says
Williams, and the gospel, which is Freedom requires all black
men to affirm their dignity as persons and all whites to surrender
their presumption of superiority and end their abuses of power.

108

Added to the meaning of black theology is the idea that the black
churchman must stand with the black community and when ten-
sion arises between the community and faith, he must make the
tension creative, seeking to repair all damage done by racial in-
justice. Williams explains that the churchmen exhibit concern
above all for spiritual power. The words of Eldrige Cleaver sym-
bolized for the committee:

. . . the black man's determination not to remain passive
while white Americans seek to enslave him. Committed
to our Christian faith, confident of our own worth and
dignity, we shall fight until our rights are secured and
assured. Self-determination shall be ours. Christ has
made us free, and by the power of God and our strong
right arm we shall possess that freedom. Thus in stan-
ding firm for our freedom we shall be participants in the
task of reconciling the world unto God. 37
Through slavery and the periods following Reconstruction,
the black church was the one institution owned and controlled by
the black community. Black automony was pioneered by the
black church when it broke from white Christianity and formed
churches and denominations. The black church became the center
of the social and political life, but like the black community itself,
the church has been ambivalent in its heritage and the per-
petuator of black powerlessness. The black church has too often
over-valued the dominant white culture and undervalued its own.
With the advent of black technology, an attempt is being made to
shape a religion of blackness in which the black person can
recover his own soul from its oppression in this world.

109

FOOTNOTES

'E. Franklin Frazier, The Negro Church in America (New York: Schocken Books,

1963), p. 82.
2 Roscoe C. Brown, Jr. and Harry A. Ploski, (eds.) The Negro Almanac (New York:

Bellwether Publishing Company, Inc., 1967), p. 794.
3 James B. Lawrence, "Education of the Negro in the Colony of Georgia," Georgia

Historical Quarterly, XIV, 1930, pp. 41-3.
4 Ibid p. 44.
5 Ibid., p. 45.
6 Ibid., p. 46.
7 Ibid., p. 47.
8 Frazier, p. 9.
9 Joseph R. Washington, Jr., The Negro Church in America (Boston: Beacon Press,

1964), p. 205.
"Frazier, p. 10.
"Ibid., p. 11.
l2 Ibid., pp. 12-15.
l3 Washington, p. 206.
l4 Frazier, p. 24.

l5 Brown and Ploski (ed.), The Negro Almanac, p. 795.
,6 Frazier, p. 28.
17 Ibid., pp. 32-36.
l8 Ibid., p. 43.
i9 Ibid., pp. 49-51.
20 W. Seward Salisbury, Religion in American Culture (Illinois: The Dorsey

Press, 1964), pp. 464-65.
21 Frazier, p. 71.
22 Ibid., p. 74.
23 Ibid., p. 75.
24 Ibid., p. 75.
25 James Cone and William Hordern, "Dialogue on Black Theology." Christian

Century, L XXVII (September 15, 1971), p. 1085.
26 Ibid., p. 1080.
27 Ibid.
2S Ibid.

29 Ibid., p. 1085.
Ibid.

31 John C. Haughey, "Black Theology", America, CXX, (May 17, 1969), p. 583.
32 Ibid.
Ibid.
34 Rosemary Ruether, "Black Theology and the Black Church", America, CXX

(June 14, 1969), p. 686.
35 Ibid., p. 687.
36 Preston N. Williams, "The Atlanta Document An Interpretation",

Christian Century. LXXXVI, (October 15, 1969), p. 1311.
37 Ibid., p. 1312.

110

MEASUREMENT OF THE SOLUBILITY AND

SOLUBILITY PRODUCT OF ZINC CHROMATE

BY THE RADIOTRACER METHOD*

Levone Kornegay and M. P. Menon
Savannah State College, Savannah, Georgia

Saturated solution of a slightly soluble salt contains very low
concentration of the dissolved solute which may be difficult to
determine by most of the conventional methods. If the dissolved
substance is radioactive its concentration can, however, be
measured with good precision using raditracer techniques. The
method has the advantage over the frequently used conductivity
method, because it measures the total amount of the tagged
element in solution regardless of whether the dissolved substance
exists as ions or undissociated molecules (1). The sensitivity of
the radiotracer method and the ease with which the radioactivity
of the solution samples is measured make this analytical
technique a valuable tool to determine the solubility of slightly
soluble substances. Radiotracer methods have been employed, in
the past, to measure the solubility of slightly soluble compounds
such as PbS, PbCr0 4 , AgBr etc., with much success (2, 3).

Physical data on the solubility and solubility product of the
sparingly soluble zinc chromate are not available in literature
(4). In this work the solubilities of zinc chromate at various tem-
peratures have been determined using 243d 65 Zn + 2 tracer. The
solubility data have also been used to measure the standard en-
thalpy change (AH) for the solution process of this salt.

EXPERIMENTAL

Reagents and Apparatus: Approximately 0.1 M reagent grade
zinc sulfate solution, 0.1 M potassium chromate solution, zinc-65
tracer solution containing about 1 mC of activity and dil.
hydrochloric acid solution were used. The apparatus consists of a
thermostat keeping constant temperature and a gamma-ray spec-
trometer.

a) Measurement of the Specific Activity of the Labeled Zinc
Chromate:

About twenty milliliters of the zinc sulfate solution was
mixed thoroughly with an aliquot of 65 Zn tracer solution (about
0.075 mC) and treated with an excess of potassium chromate
solution at a pH of about 7. The mixture was heated in a water
bath, centrifuged and washed several times until the excess of
chromate is completely removed. The residue was then washed
with 95% ethanol and dried. A portion of the dried solid,
Zn*Cr0 4 , (~15 mg) was weighed in a counting tube as accurately
as possible, dissolved in 5 ml of dil. HC1 and counted in a Nal(Tl)

*This paper was presented at the Southeast ACS student Affiliate Regional con-
ference held at Georgia Institute of Technology, April 5-7, 1973

111

well type gamma-ray spectrometer. The gamma-ray activity
resulting from the annihilation gamma-rays and 1.12 Mev
gamma-rays of the positron emitting 65 Zn above a cut off energy
of about 0.3 Mev was measured. This was used to determine the
specific activity of the standard solid sample (Zn*CrO ).
b) Procedure for the Determination of the Solubility:
The rest of the labeled solid sample was mixed with
deionized water taken in a large tube which was kept in the ther-
mostat. With continuous stirring the solution was made saturated
with Zn*CrO at the desired temperature. At each temperature
the solution was kept in contact with the solid for about 15
minutes to ensure that equilibrium was reached. Five milliliters
of the supernatent solution was withdrawn and transferred to a
counting tube with a pipette, the nozzle of which was covered
with glass wool to prevent the entrance of any solid particles into
the pipette. This process was repeated at other temperatures. The
gamma-ray activity of each aliquot of the saturated solution was
measured under identical conditions. The background of the
gamma-ray counter was also determined.

RESULTS AND DISCUSSION

The solubility of zinc chromate at any given temperature was
calculated from the measured activity of 5 ml of the saturated
solution and the specific activity of the solid sample using the
relation:

C sat (M/l) = R sample < c P m > X 1000 X W .... (1)
R standard < c P m ) 5 M

where ^standard * s tne ac tivity of W g of the solid sample and M
the molecular weight of ZnCr0 4 . The values for Rsample and the
solubility of ZnCr0 4 at different temperatures are listed in Table
L.

The temperature dependence of the solubility of ZnCr0 4 may
be represented by Van't Hoffs equation:

AH 1
log C S at. : 2 303R* ~T + constant (2)

where AH is the standard enthalpy change for the solution
process. Figure 1 shows a plot of log Csat. versus 1/T the slope of
which equals AH/2.303R. The standard enthalpy change for
the solution of ZnCr0 4 calculated from the slope is 2.250
kcal/mole.

The solubility product of ZnCr0 4 may be expressed by the
relation:

Ksp - ( a Zn++M a Cr0 4 -_) * C2 ZnCr0 4 .O )2 ...(3)

112

where a and 3 zt represent the activity and the mean activity
coefficient of the ions, respectively and C the concentration of zinc
chromate in the saturated solution.

The mean activity coefficient for the ions in water solution at
25 C may be evaluated from the following equation:

- log ) = 0.509 Z + Z_ JV2fLC { Z\ (4)

where Z + and Z _ are the charges carried by cation and anion,
respectively, of the electrolyte under study and Cj and Zj are the
respective concentration and charge of any ion present in the
solution. The numerical constant, 0.509, is not, however, the same
at different temperatures. The following expression for the
numerical constant, N' cons ^ , can, nevertheless, be derived from
Debye-Huckel's limiting law (5):

N , . 0.509X3.71X10 6 ,,,

const. ( T') 3 / 2

where ' is the dialectric constant of water at temperature T' on
Kelvin scale.

Values of ', N' co t , 9 . and Ksp at different temperatures

(T') are given in Table II. It is obvious from this table that, in
spite of a decrease in the mean activity coefficient, the solubility
product of ZnCr0 4 also increases with temperature as does the
solubility.

REFERENCES

1. Paneth, F., "Radioelements as Indicators", McGraw-Hill Book Co., New
York, 1928

2. Hevesy G. and Paneth, F., Z. anog. Chem. 82, 322 (1913)

3. Ruka, R. and Willard, J., J. Phys & Colloid Chem. 5, 351 (1949)

4. "Handbook of Chemistry and Physics", Chemical Rubber Company, 48th

edition, CRC, Cleveland, Ohio, 1967-68, page B-240

5. Hamill, W. H., Williams, Jr. R. R. and MacKay C, "Principles of Physical
Chemistry" Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1966, N. J., page 262

113

Table I

Solubility of ZnCrCh at Various Temperatures Obtained
from Activity Measurements
Specific Activity of the Standard (solid sample) = 9.5xl0 9 cpm/M

Samples Temperature *Net activity in Solubility

27.5

5478 317

1.15 0.07

36.0

5320 633

1.12 0.13

45.5

5164 969

1.09 0.20

55.0

4365 429

0.92 0.09

63.0

4450 292

0.93 0.06

72.0

4102 109

0.86 0.02

* Aver age of two values

Table II
Solubility Product of ZnCr0 4 as a Function of Temperature

Temp.(K)

^ const.

K sp

300.5

76.86

0.550

0.895

1.06xl0- 8

309.0

74.09

0.555

0.891

0.994xl0- 8

318.5

70.76

0.558

0.898

0.962xl0- 8

328.0

67.90

0.565

0.905

0.696xl0- 8

336.0

65.46

0.568

0.904

0.713xl0- 8

345.0

62.82

0.590

0.905

0.607x10-8

^Taken from the Handbook of Chemistry and Physics, CRC

114

3.1 3.2

1 x lO^deg.)- 1

Fig. 1 Plot of log C sa t as a function of 1/T

115

QUINTILIAN'S MODERNITY:

IMPLICATIONS FOR THE NATURE

OF EDUCATIONAL THEORY

Joseph M. McCarthy, Ph.D.

Assistant Professor

History and Philosophy of Education

Suffolk University

41 Temple St.

Boston, Mass.

Unless they are keenly interested in the dynamics of Latin
rhetoric, modern readers who attempt the twelve books of Quin-
tilian's Institutio Oratorio, will find them only slightly heavier
than their own eyelids. Our age is not concerned, as was Quin-
tilian, with the formation of good orators. Indeed, Quintilian's
educational theorizing was retrograde even in his own time, as
the changing structures of the Roman Empire were even then
making the profession of orator obsolescent. 1

Yet any reader who is faithful to the first two books of In-
stitutio Oratoria, which are devoted to the content, method, and
organization of education, will find himself agreeably surprised
to discover some comments that are thoroughly germane to our
own educational situation. They are worth exploring not only for
their own sake, but for the implications they bear for the nature
of educational theorizing.

At the root of his educational theory, Quintilian seems to
have a sound, empirically based conception of child development.
The very first section of his book sees him observing that
It is the nurse that the child first hears, and her words
that he will first attempt to imitate. And we are by
nature most tenacious of childish impressions, just as the
flavor first absorbed by vessels when new persists and
the color imparted by dyes to the primitive whiteness of
wool is indelible. 2
This is not far off the mark as judged by current notions, for we
hold today that

even before the child starts school, he is an astute obser-
ver, noting the behavior and interests of his parents.
Many of these interests he will begin to internalize as his
own. 3
The notion, of course, is part of the accepted wisdom of mankind,
so that it is not miraculous that Quintilian felt this way, although
it is significant.

This capacity for learning, Quintilian states, is universal:
There is absolutely no foundation for the complaint that
but few men have the power to take in the knowledge
that is imparted to them, and that the majority are so
slow of understanding that education is a waste of time
and labor. On the contrary you will find that most are

116

quick to reason and ready to learn. Reasoning comes as
naturally to man as flying to birds, speed to horses, and
ferocity to beasts of prey; our minds are endowed by
nature with such activity and sagacity that the soul is
believed to proceed from heaven. 4

Clearly, this statement sets Quintilian far in advance of his own
time, implicitly anticipating as it does the rise of popular
education which was still nearly two milennia in the future. Con-
temporary educators could assent easily to this proposition, and
concede that, so far from refuting Qunitilian's contention, modern
educational research is indicating that some types of stimulation
may hasten this desire to learn. 5

When Quintilian uses the phrase, "ready to learn," he is not,
of course, speaking of the "readiness" which has become for us a
canonized term. Yet he does subscribe to the concept:

Vessels with narrow mouths will not receive liquids if
too much be poured into them at a time, but are easily
filled if the liquid is admitted in a gentle stream, or, it
may be, drop by drop; similarly you must consider how
much a child's mind is capable of receiving; the things
which are beyond their grasp will not enter their minds,
which have not opened out sufficiently to take them in. 6

Only his style betrays the age of the comment, for the content is
quite modern. Indeed, we find the same statement in a more
familiar style in a recent text:

The importance of the readiness of the individual as an
ideal in all instruction can scarcely be overstressed. The
student who lacks readiness for new learning cannot
hope to progress satisfactorily until his deficiencies are
identified and overcome or until a way is found to reach
him on his level. When a student is fully ready for a task,
on the other hand, his progress should be smooth and
easy. If all teachers would make a deliberate effort to
use the concept of readiness in the organization of their
instruction there would be fewer difficult courses. 7

And when Quintilian adverts specifically to reading, he presents
an uncanny precis of a controversy that has agitated education
for the past forty years:

Some hold that boys should not be taught to read till
they are seven years old, that being the earliest age at
which they can derive profit from instruction and endure
the strain of learning . . . Those however who hold that a
child's mind should not be allowed to lie fallow for a
moment are wiser. 8

117

In the Thirties, teachers in at least one American school district
took pains to identify each child's attainment of a mental age of
6.5 years so as to avoid doing children the violence of teaching
them reading before that time. 9 In 1960, one researcher pointed
to "a mountain of evidence" that normal children could not be
taught to read before reaching the mental age of 6.5 years. 10 On
the other side of the argument, Bruner has asserted that any sub-
ject can be taught with some integrity to any child in any stage of
development, 11 and others have challenged the adequacy of the
6.5 mental age as a criterion. 12 If Quintilian walked among us
today, he might have to familiarize himself with the concept of
mental age, but he would otherwise be right at home in the
debate.

Whatever the validity of specific applications of the doctrine
of readiness, Quintilian and modern educators seem agreed on its
general validity, and on that of the related notion of individual
differences. Of course, Quintilian was not original even in his own
day in declaring that "it is generally and not unreasonably re-
garded as the sign of a good teacher that he should be able to dif-
ferentiate between abilities of his respective pupils and to know
their natural bent. The gifts of nature are infinite in their variety,
and mind differs from mind almost as much as body from
body," 13 but he was enunciating a durable doctrine. 14 Elaborating
the concept, he writes:

Just as an expert gymnast, when he enters a gymnasium
full of boys, ... is able to decide for what class of
athletic contest they should be trained, even so, ... a
teacher . . . will so adapt his instructions to individual
needs that each pupil will be pushed forward in the
sphere for which his talents seem specially to design
him. 15
It is interesting to discover a contemporary researcher insisting
on this implication of a "new conception of learning:"

To be effective ... a learning program for each child
must take fully into account what he knows how to do
already, and what he doesn't know how to do already.
One must find out what prerequisites he has already
mastered not in a general sense, but in a very precise
sense for each learner. 16

Diagnostic tests would probably delight Quintilian.

In his notions of motivation, Quintilian strikes another
modern note. When he holds that a student in a classroom
situation "will derive equal profit from hearing the indolence of a
comrade rebuked or his industry commended," 17 one is reminded
that within the past two decades research has indicated that
children can be reinforced even by hearing others praised. 18
Again, Quintilian says of the student that

118

his studies must be made an amusement: he must be
questioned and praised and taught to rejoice when he
has done well; sometimes, too, when he refuses instruc-
tion, it should be given to some other to excite his envy;
at times also he must be engaged in competition and
should be allowed to believe himself successful more of-
ten than not, while he should be encouraged to do his
best by such rewards as may appeal to his tender years. 19

Contemporary research bears him out not only on the need for
reinforcement, 20 but on the possibility of the use of competition in
reinforcement 2 l

One may well ask why, in presenting a theory of education
that was largely retrograde and unresponsive to the societal
changes occurring in the Roman Empire, Quintilian should have
hit upon insights so relevant to our own day. To state that it
would be remarkable had he not done so is begging the question.
To assert that human nature is a constant and that the obser-
vations of a gifted teacher thus cannot but possess some validity
is more satisfactory. A complete answer to the question, however,
necessitates an examination of the modalities of educational
theorizing.

In our own day, the categories "directive" or "liberal" (or
some derivative tertium quid) are often applied to educational
theory. 22 Again, one may find educational theory distinguished
into speculative, normative, and critical. 23 I would propose as
valuable an outline of the functions of educational theory which
is generally similar to the latter, specifying them as descriptive,
projective, and prescriptive.

Descriptive educational theory is analytic and evaluative in
nature. It assesses the educational practice of the contemporary
milieu and attempts to purify and systematize it. Its chief aim is
to codify the best elements of existing educational practice and
provide a theoretical framework for them.

Projective educational theory focusses rather upon iden-
tifying the alternative future courses of social trends and, having
opted for the most desirable of them, seeks to design an educa-
tional system to bring that most desirable alternative into being
and stabilize it in being.

Prescriptive educational theory prescinds from that which
actually exists and even from what may probably exist. Its con-
cern is with what ought to exist, and it attempts to delineate how
education ought to function.

It would be futile to assert that educational theory takes any
one of these pure forms in a given theorist's writings. In practice,
these may be distinguished only with great difficulty.

Xenophon's Cyropaedia offers a perfect example. On the face
of it, Chapter Two of Book One describes the educational prac-
tices of the Persians as Xenophon viewed them during the famed
expedition of Cyrus the Younger. Yet to many authorities it

119

seems probable that he was really describing the Spartan
educational system. 24 In any case, his work was descriptive in-
sofar as it reproduced the essential features of an extant system,
projective (and perhaps remotely prescriptive) inasmuch as it ad-
vocated adoption of that system and its social goals by Athens. In
our own day, much theorizing of this type passes for comparative
education. In any case, educational theory often serves a descrip-
tive function, even when it is not intended to do so.

Rousseau's Emile and the educational animadversions of
many Utopias offer the purest examples of the prescriptive func-
tion of educational theory. Here, the authors consciously prescind
from past and present actuality 25 and even the probabilities of
future actuality in delineating the ideal conduct of education. In
most authors, however, what is touted as prescriptive is most of-
ten projective.

The innate difficulty of projective educational theory has
been the absence of a methodologically rigorous science for
studying the future. As a result, projective educational theory has
been reliant upon haphazard extrapolation of trends, and has
thus tended to fall between the stools of description and prescrip-
tion, albeit a bit nearer the former. Thus John of Salisbury, Juan
Luis Vives, and Quintilian may well be faulted for lack of bold-
ness in their theorizing. Indeed, the most generally valid
assessment of educational theory may well be that it accom-
plishes description in the name of prescription and, for that
reason, fosters the acceptance of retrograde notions. This is
especially true in Quintilian's case.

A further reason for this syndrome is the presumed constancy
of the phoenomena under investigation. After all, Quintilian
could scarcely have hit upon insights of such enduring relevance
if human nature and basic human operations were not the same
through the passage of centuries. It is this constancy which makes
the observations of gifted teachers universally valid despite the
generally provisional bases of the social sciences and correspon-
ding alterations in research methodology. The problem is that,
while such constancy is evident on the level of human psychology
and individual operation, there is less constancy in the modalities
of societal behavior, and education is, after all, a societal rather
than an individual function.

This latter suggests that educational theory ought to pay
more attention to methodology, particularly to distinguishing
methodology according to the differing goals of educational
theory.

Descriptive educational theory, where it exists, or attempts to
exist, in a pure state, must rely on such analytic methodology as
is provided by history and the social sciences. None of these is, or
can be, value free; but then, descriptive educational theory by its
very definition cannot be value free, as it examines its data under
the rubric of evaluation for validity and efficacy. That we alter
data in perceiving, that our techniques of investigation interfere

120

with our data is, fortunately, implicit in its definition.

Prescriptive educational theory comes closest to what we
term "philosophy." In its study of the "oughtness" of education,
therefore, it may best make use of methods of philosophic in-
vestigation, e.g. Concept analysis, dialectic, theory formation,
etc. 26 Those branches of philosophy most oriented to practical
societal applications, ethics and politics, will offer the most
satisfactory models.

It is with projective educational theory that the greatest
methodological difficulty is encountered, inasmuch as the
methodology for the study of the future is still quite primitive.
Only in recent years have centers and institutes for the study of
the future been established, 27 and halting steps been made
toward the elaboration of a sound methodology for predicting
social trends. 28 With the further elaboration of such methodology
and its adaption by educational theorists, perhaps projective
educational philosophy will be able to rise above its former state,
and a general transformation in the nature and use of education
theory be seen.

The implications of Quintilian's Institutio Oratorio, are thus
clear: if it is by no means surprising that a gifted teacher could
make timelessly accurate observations on the basis of what is
constant in human behavior, it is no less surprising that, because
of a confusion of goals and lack of sound methodological means,
such a gifted teacher should have constructed a conceptual
framework for educational practice thoroughly unsuited to the
needs of future generations.

Every educational theorist faces the same difficulty: in at-
tempting to be at once historian, sociologist, philosophy, seer (yes,
and stylist too!), he will inevitably produce a bit of gold and a
deal of dross. Only careful and systematic attention to goals and
methods can alter the balance so obviously weighted against him.

To read Quintilian, then, as to read virtually any
educational philosopher of times past, is not solely an exercise in
antiquarianism, not solely a fishing expedition for useful ideas,
but also an occasion for the examination of one's intellectual sup-
positions and methods and, perhaps, one's intellectual
rigorousness and integrity.

121

NOTES

>Cf. G. Kennedy, "An Estimate of Quintilian," American Journal of Philology,
XLII (1962), 130-146; E. J. Power, The Evolution of Educational Doctrine: Major
Theorists of the Western World (N.Y., 1969), 368, 377, 393; William Boyd, The
History of Western Education (8th ed., N.Y., 19660, 73.

2 H.E. Butler, trans., The Institutio Oratoria of Quintilian (N.Y., 1920), I, i, 5.

3 Jo Ann Stiles, "Child Development," Encyclopedia of Educational Research
(4th ed., N.Y., 1969), 120.

4 Quintilian, Inst. Ora., I, i, 1.

5 Cf. Y. Sayegh and W. Dennis, "The Effects of Supplementary Experiences
Upon the Behavioral Development of Infants in Institutions," Child Development,
XXXVI (1965), 89-90.

6 Quintilian, Inst. Ora., I, ii, 28.

7 Robert C. Craig, The Psychology of Learning in the Classroom (N.Y., 1966),
7; CF also Frederick T. Tyler, "Readiness," Encyclopedia of Educational
Reserach (4th ed., N.Y., 1969), 1062-1068.

8 Quintilian, Inst. Ora., I, i, 15-16.

9 Carleton Washburne, "Ripeness," Progressive Education, XIII (1936), 125-
130.

,0 Helen Heffernan, "Significance of Kindergarten Education," Childhood
Education, XXXVI (1960), 313-319.

"Jerome S. Bruner, The Process of Education (Cambridge, Mass., 1960).

12 Marian Monroe and Bernice Rogers, Foundations for Reading: Informal
Pre-Reading Procedures (N.Y., 1964); Robert L. Hillecch, "Pre-Reading Skills in
Kindergarten: A Second Report," Elementary School Journal, LXV (1965), 312-
317; Marjorie Hunt Sutton, "Readiness for Reading at the Kindergarten Level,"
Reading Teacher, XVII (1964), 234-239.

13 Quintilian, Inst. Ora., II, vii, 1. CF. also Plato's Republic, Book II.

14 Leona E. Tyler, "Individual Difference," Encyclopedia of Educational
Research (4th ed., N.Y., 1969), 639-644.

15 Quintilian, Inst. Ora., II, viii, 3-5.

16 Robert M. Gagne, "Some New Views of Learning and Instruction," Phi
Delta Kappan, LI, 9 (May 1970), 471.

17 Quintilian, Inst. Ora., I, ii, 21.

18 D. Auble and E. V. Mech., "Quantitative Studies of Verbal Reinforcement in
Classroom Situations. I: Differential Reinforcement Related to the Frequency of
Error and Correct Responses," Journal of Psychology, XXXV (1953, 307-312.)

19 Quintilian, Inst. Ora., I, i, 20.

20 Cf. G. N. Cantor and C. C. Spikes, "Effects of Non-reinforced Trials on
Discrimination Learning in Preschool Children," Journal of Experimental Pst-
chology, XLVII (1954), 256-258; H. W. Stevenson, et al., "Discrimination Learning
in Children as a Function of Motive-incentive Conditions," Psychological Reports,
V (1959), 95-98.

21 B. F. Skinner, "The Science of Learning and the Art of Teaching," Harvard
Educational Review, XXIV (Spring 1954), 86-97.

22 Everett John Kircher, "Philosophy of Education Directive Doctrine or
Liberal Discipline?," Educational Theory, V, 4 (Oct. 1955), 220-229; Power, 372ff.

23 John S. Brubacher, Modern Philosophies of Education (4th ed., NY., 1969),
313-318.

24 Edouard Delebecque, Essai sur la vie de Xenophon (Paris 1957), 384; Jean
Luccioni, Les idees politiques et sociales de Xenophon (Paris 1948), 213.

25 Jean Guehenno, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, II: 1758-1778 (NY., 19660, 15ff.

26 Cf. Thomas Green, "A Typology of the Teaching Concept," Studies in
Philosophy and Education, III (1964), 284-319; E. S. Maccia and G. S. Maccia,
Development of Educational Theory Derived from Three Educational Theory
Models (Columbus, O., 1966).

"Daniel Bell in Burnham Putnam Beckwith, The Next 500 Years: Scientific
Predictions of Major Social Trends (NY. 1967), viii.

28 Beckwith, The Next 500 Years, 9-12.

122

THE U. S. BANK AND THE TARIFF:

A JACKSONIAN DILEMMA

Dr. John E. Simpson

A dramatic reformulation of America's old political order in
the second decade of the nineteenth century brought to power a
new species of ruler Andrew Jackson of Tennessee. The colorful,
crude, pseudo aristocratic war hero personified many of the
nascent republic's virtues, aspirations, and shortcomings. Jackson
truly symbolized his age. 1 At the same time his ascendancy with
the presidential election of 1828 heralded a unique new political
era. Not only did Old Hickory revive and marshal into his
column important segments of Thomas Jefferson's old coalition,
but he also fathered a a heretofore entirely unknown set of power
brokers. For the first time political leadership became the pur-
view of non-elitist elements, and government service opened its
door to the commoner. Now administrative efficiency,
bureaucratic regulations, and rationality crept in to reorder
Washington officialdom. Offices once designed for patrician dilet-
tantes were now molded for ordinary men of ability. The passing
of this old government ethic drastically differentiated Jacksonian
Democracy from aristocratic Jeffersonian Republicanism.
America's first modern political party was born. 2

Cunning, adroit Senator Martin Van Buren of New York
gave birth to Jackson's potent coalition. And a diverse coalition it
was. Van Buren had skillfully played upon the fears and am-
bitions of all geographic sections to catapult Jackson into power. 3
One of these, the South, held a preeminent position. All of the
slave states with the exceptions of Maryland and Delaware went
for Jackson in 1828 their price: Van Buren and his presidential
protege had promised to get the tariff lowered and to institute a
benign Indian policy (from the perspective of certain land-hungry
white Southerners), and agreed to block federally- financed inter-
nal improvements.

In part Jackson would keep these campaign pledges, as the
Maysville Veto and Georgia's removal of the Indians revealed.
But tariff revision disappointed some. The Tariff of 1832,
replacing the highly protectionist "Tariff of Abominations"
(1828) did not lower the schedules sufficiently to satisfy Dixie ex-
tremists. Some, including John C. Calhoun, broke with Jackson.
As if to compound the problem, the President's veto of the United
States Bank re-charter in 1832 alienated many Southerners.In-
fluential politicos like John M. Berrien, Hugh Lawson White, and
John Tyler turned against "King Andrew." 4 Crisis confronted the
Democratic coalition. If it failed to muster its forces in the South,
Jackson stood to lose his bid for reelection in 1832.

In Savannah one of the south Atlantic coast's most effective
newspapers took up the cudgel for Old Hickory. "The opponents
of General Jackson stigmatize his veto message as a 'tissue of
sophistries,' a 'flimsy production, the appeal of ignorance

123

to ignorance,' (we of the commune vulgus) who are in favor of
General Jackson, 'touch our caps' to the New York American for
the compliment) 'a shameful state paper, an imbecile production'
and etc., etc., and yet they devote columns of their presses to its
refutation," the editor of the Savannah Daily Georgian wrote. "If
this message [his veto address] will hurt General Jackson in
demonstrating his hostility to the U.S. Bank, surely he is entitled
to more courtesy than he has received, as nothing but sincerity of
heart could have influenced him in such a case." 5 Later the paper
pounced on a northern religious periodical for taking issue with
Jackson's bank veto: "We regard this as an attempt to enlist
religious feeling on the side of party politics. The Philadelphian is
a paper established to promote religion, to teach the way of
salvation to mankind." 6 Unfortunately, these fulminations tended
to fall flat. A metropolitan commercial center like Savannah har-
bored many moneyed individuals who approved of the United
States Bank's sound, conservative policies. To them Jackson's ap-
peal to folk prejudices harked of rank demagoguery. Another
issue must be found.

At first the tariff seemed to provide an alternative. The
Tariff of 1832, substantially lowering the rates to the level of
1824, was designed to provide some protection to northern in-
dustrialists while meeting major anti-protectionist demands of
Southerners. The paucity of manufacturing in the cotton states
almost guaranteed a favorable response. But events decreed
otherwise. Jackson's tariff bill failed to mollify free-traders. Only
Henry Clay and his adherents in the South proto-
Whigs heartily approved, while insisting on somewhat higher
duties. Extremist Democrats cried treason. These followers of
Calhoun wanted a tariff for revenue only.

Staunch Savannah Jacksonians echoed the Daily Georgian's
sentiments: "Whatever may be the opinion of Henry Clay in
general, no one can deny him to be a most consummate intriguer.
He has contrived with admirable skill to identify himself with the
manufacturing nabobs of the North and they cling to him with all
the devotion and energy which the most powerful of human
passions, self interest, can inspire. Upon him and his fortune hang
the fate of their illegal game. They know that should he succeed
the door of future compromise on the tariff would be shut and
they flatter themselves that they would then have the whole
South lying at their mercy and existing only by their tolerance.
But let them beware lest they should be served like Franklin's lit-
tle boy with the apples, and lest in grasping at more, that which is
in their already full hands may slip from them." 7

Georgia's confused reaction to the Tariff of 1832, while
failing to give much encouragement to Whig presidential can-
didate Clay, evoked considerable concern in Jackson's camp. The
state had gone overwhelmingly for the Tennessean in 1828 and
appeared safe for 1832 until Congress, largely under the
President's guidance, enacted the tariff bill in July 1832.

124

During the first three decades of the nineteenth century
Georgia possessed no true political parties. Instead the state had
long witnessed a bitter internecine struggle between two amor-
phous and ideologically almost indistinct factions which had
identified previously with Jefferson's Republican party and had
since generally swung into Jackson's column. Both factions were
highly personal in nature, each adhering to an ambitious,
charismatic individual who had no philosophic ax to grind. One
element gathered around George M. Troup, sometime U. S. Re-
presentative, Senator, and Governor. Its most prominent par-
tisans tended to be planters and affluent merchants from Virginia
and Maryland. Some had voted Federalist in the early days all
conceived themselves to be socially superior to the masses. A
disproportionate number lived in and around Savannah. The
other political sect idolized General John Clark, an enigmatic
frontiersman who eventually migrated farther south to Florida.
Clark supporters represented humbler backwoods folk. Most had
filtered into Georgia from the Carolina piedmont via Augusta. 8

State leaders of both factions traditionally met to caucus and
revel each August at the Athens commencement of Franklin
College (University of Georgia). In the late summer of 1832 a
deadly miasma permeated the political atmosphere. Jackson had
just signed the new tariff measure. Many Troupers, led by
William H. Crawford, John M. Berrien, and Augustin M. Clayton
at the graduation exercises, called upon Georgia to break with
the President over the tariff. But Senator John Forsyth and a
vocal rump of other Troup men hurried to Jackson's defense.
Clarkites tended to do likewise; they believed the roughhewn
Chief Executive, one of their own, could do no wrong. These
events on the eve of the presidential election boded ill for Georgia
Jacksonians. Old Hickory's actions had to be explained to the
satisfaction of disgruntled citizens.

Again Savannah's leading Troupers entered the foray. The
Daily Georgian took a moderate position. Somewhat inconsisten-
tly it lauded anti-tariff sentiment while declaring that South
Carolina's plan to pronounce the federal law null and void
smacked of insanity. "Nullification" was not the answer. Many
southern congressmen had voted for the tariff including For-
syth because it was "the best of a bad bargain." Others had
done so in "a sincere desire to save the Union," the editor stated. 9

Still the Georgia nullification movement burgeoned.
Jackson's tariff policy hurt him with extremist, state rights-
oriented Troupers, and his veto of the bank bill irked some
moderate to conservative Troup supporters. Forsyth and the
Daily Georgian were trapped in the middle. As a result of this
split the state's political complexion shifted. While most radicals
were as yet unwilling to totally renounce Jackson and support
Clay for President, they seemed ready to sit out the election.
Eventually the factious Troup followers chose two slates of
presidential electors. One which included William B. Bulloch of

125

Savannah was committed to Jackson and Van Buren for Vice-
President (Jackson's handpicked successor). The extremists
raised their own slate which was halfheartedly pledged to
Jackson and P. P. Barbour for Vice-President. As polling time
drew nearer Jackson and Van Buren chieftans changed their tac-
tics and redoubled efforts to win the extremists over.

"If Clay and [John] Sergeant are elected we know they will
take sides with the missionaries. We believe the Cherokee country
will not be settled without the flow of blood," announced the
Daily Georgian. Savannah's Troup organ had reached the lowest
common denominator of public appeal. The banking issue
sparked little interest along the coast; the tariff problem was em-
barrassing. Only the Indian question remained. Few Troupers
disagreed with the need to remove the Cherokees from their an-
cestral north Georgia lands. Jackson would look the other way
while the state did as she pleased with the redman. 10

On election day the wisdom of this pragmatic strategy
became apparent. In Chatham County the Jackson-Van Buren
ticket received 264 votes to a paltry six for the extremist Troup
slate. Partisans of the latter element had either "gone fishing" or
had switched sides. 11 The trend held throughout the state.
Nullification Troupers lacked the muscle to alter the outcome.
Jackson and Van Buren swept Georgia and the country. But
unlike voters elsewhere, Georgians had not (with the exception of
Clarkites) concentrated on the standard national issues of
banking and the tariff. Instead Indian removal, a purely local
question, predominated. White Georgians, regardless of political
persuasion, would soon redeem Jackson's pledge through a for-
cible expulsion of the Cherokees from the state.

FOOTNOTES

'. J. W. Ward, Andrew Jackson, Symbol for an Age (New York, 1955).

2. Lynn L. Marshall, "The Strange Stillbirth of the Whig Party," American
Historical Review, LXXII (January, 1967), 445-468.

3. Richard H. Brown, "The Missouri Crisis, Slavery, and the Politics of
Jacksonianism," South Atlantic Quarterly, LXV (1966), 55-72.

4. Glyndon G. Van Deusen, The Jacksonian Era, 1828-1848 (New York, 1959),
pp. 70-91.

5. Savannah Daily Georgian, July 28, 1832.

6. Ibid.; August 4, 1832, ibid.

7. July 24, 1832, ibid.

8. E. Merton Coulter, A History of Georgia (Chapel Hill, 1833), pp. 225-230.

9. Savannah Daily Georgian, July 31, 1832.

10. November 7, 1832, ibid.

11. Ibid. Within a few years the Troup and Clark parties disappeared. Most
Troup men went into the newly-formed State Rights party which stressed,
naturally, state sovereignty. Most Clarkites then organized the opposing Union
party committed to Jacksonian politics. By 1840 these purely local organizations
had merged with the national political structure. State Righters generally drifted
into the Whig camp while the majority of Union men went into the Democratic
party.

126

LARGE ANGLE OSCILLATIONS OF A SIMPLE

PENDULUM A COMPUTER ORIENTED

EXPERIMENTAL APPROACH

V. Anantha Narayanan

Professor of Physics

P. O. Box 20473

Savannah State College

Savannah, Georgia 31404

And

Winfred Verreen* and Randolph Powell*

INTRODUCTION
It is well known that as long as the arc over which a simple
pendulum swings is very small the time of vibration T is given by
T = 2ar.(l/g)l/2 (i)

where 1 is length of the pendulum and g is the acceleration due to
gravity. It is customary in the undergraduate experimental
physics manuals to caution the students doing this experiment to
limit the angle of swing to be within a few degrees. If the angle
through which the pendulum swings is greater than a few degrees,
the period observed will be appreciably greater than the period
for small amplitude vibrations. A correction needs to be applied
for this effect. This is due to the assumption of small amplitude,
based on which only formula (1) holds good, as a first ap-
proximation.

The theory of the vibrations of a simple pendulum with large
amplitudes shows that

T=2ar(l/g)l/2 .[1 + l/4Sin 2 ( 0/2) + 9/64Sin 4 ( 6/2) + 225/2304Sin6( e

2) + ...]-(2)
Where 6 half the angular amplitude i.e. the angle from the
vertical to either extreme end of vibration. The derivation of this
formula is dealt with in advanced Mechanics, or Properties of
Matter textbooks or advanced Practical Physics Manuals. 1

COMPUTER ANALYSIS

In order to determine the feasibility of doing an experiment
to verify the formula (2), we made a computer analysis of the
problem. The program is given in Appendix 1. The program is
general enough so that calculations could be made for any length,
any swing angle and any value of the acceleration due to gravity
and for any number of vibrations counted. A trial run of the
program developed is given in Appendix II. It is seen with just 30
vibrations counted the time difference between the swing with
practically zero angle and the swing with 40 degrees as half the
maximum swing is nearly 2.06 seconds. This is very easily
measurable at our laboratory where times correct to 1/10 of a
second can be easily measured with an ordinary stopwatch.

*Students enrolled in Physics 499 research course during the spring quarter,
1973.

127

EXPERIMENTAL RESULTS

We set up a pendulum of length 120.8 .1 cms. The half
angle of the swing which started at 60 at the beginning of the ex-
periment, gradually reduced to about 40 after 30 vibrations. The
experiments were repeated 6 times and the period was found on
the average to be 2.308 second. When the swing was practically
zero (less than 3) the experiment gave an average value of the
period as 2.206 seconds. Thus the time difference (AT) between
these two cases for 30 vibrations is about 3.06 seconds.

We plugged in these values in our computer program with
the most probable value of g = 979.503 cm/s 2 and got for 6
50 (average of 40 and 60) AT**3.29 seconds. Also when 6 =
4, AT = 0.002 seconds. The angles measured experimentally
will be correct to only 2, lengths by .1 cm and assumed g
value can be off by .1 cm/s 2 . The computer estimates for these
deviations in these quantities run in the extreme to .22 - .34
seconds (for 6 = 402, and = /60 2), about 0.002 seconds
each for possible uncertainties in length and g values. The g value
was assumed from a knowledge of the latitude and the known
variation of the g value with latitude. 2 Also the time measured by
stopwatch will be accurate only to .1 second.

In view of these factors the agreement between the observed
and predicted values (3.06 against 3.29 seconds) is to be con-
sidered very good.

CONCLUSIONS

There is a good agreement with experimental and predicted
time differences for zero angle and large angle oscillations of the
simple pendulum.

A computer program has been developed by one of us
(V.A.N.) which greatly facilitates any general calculation based
on this problem making a wide variety of variations in ex-
perimental conditions.

The results and computer runs presented here will give the
students greater appreciation of the reasoning behind restricting
the angle of swing to within a few degrees in the conventional
simple pendulum experiments.

REFERENCES

1. A Textbook of Practical Physics - W. Watson-Longmans Green and Co.

2. Handbook of Physics and Chemistry - Chemical Rubber Book Co.

128

APPENDIX I

Computer Program

1000 Print "Mechanics: Program 5000"

1001 Print "Effect of Swing Ang. on Per."

1002 Print "Author: Dr. V. Anantha Narayanan

1003 Print

1005 Print "Program Investigates the Effect of Swing Angle"

1006 Print "On the Period of Vibration of a Pendulum"
1009 Print

1101 Print

1110 Print "For Further Details Contact: Dr. V. Anantha Narayanan"

1111 Print "P.O. Box No. 20473, Savannah State College, Savannah"

1116 Print "Ga, 31404. Tel No. 912-354-5717 Ext 318"

1117 Print "Office Room No. 212 New Sci. Bldg., Savannah State Coll."

1118 Print "Home Phone No. 912 234 6389"

1119 Print
1131 Print

1150 Print "Date March 29, 1973"

1170 Print "After? Give A Value for L(=The LengthO, G(=The Ace Due"

1171 Print "To Gra), M(=The Lower Val of Ang), N(=The Upper Value"

1172 Print "Of the Ang), and S(=The step in which the ang increases)"

1173 Print "And R(=The number of full vibrations to be counted)"

1174 Input L, G, M, N, S, R

1175 Print

1180 Print "Len of Pend = ";L

1181 Print "Ace Due to Gra = ";G

1182 Print "Low Ang Val = ";M

1183 Print "Hig Ang Val = ";N

1184 Print "No of vibs counted = ";R

1190 Print "T=Time of vib for F deg swing"

1191 Print "Ti=Time for zero deg swing"

1192 Print "T3=T-Ti"

1193 Print "T4=No of vibs counted x T3"

1198 Rem T4 is time dif for R vibns and T3 is time dif for I vib

1199 Print

1200 Print "Ang"; Tab(12); "T"; Tab(24); "Ti"; Tab(36); "T3"; Tab(48); "T4'
1800 Let P=3. 1415926536

2270 For F=M to N Step S

2280 Let F2 = F*.5

2290 Let F3 = F2*0.017453292519943

3000 Let S3=Sin(F3)

4000 Let S4 = (1/4)*S3**2

4010 Let S5 = (9/64)*S3**4

4020 Let S6 = (225/2304)*S3**6

4040 Let T=(2*P)*(L/G)**.5*(1 + S4 + S5 + S6)

4060 Let Ti = 2*P*(L/G)**.5

4070 Let T3=T-Ti

4071 Let T4=R*T3

5000 Print F;Tab(12); T; Tab(24); Ti; Tab(36); T3; Tab(48); T4

6000 Next F

6001 Goto 1170
7000 Stop

7005 Gosub 1170
8000 Return
9999 End

129

APPENDIX II

Sample Run of a Program
Mechanics: Program 5000
Effect of Swing Ang. on Per.
Author: Dr. V. Anantha Narayanan

Program investigates the effect of swing angle on the period of vibration of a pen-
dulum

For further details contact: Dr. V. Anantha Narayanan
P. O. Box No. 20473, Savannah State College, Savannah
Ga., 31404. Tel. No. 912354-5717 Ext. 318
Office Room No. 212 New Sci. Bldg., Savannah State Coll.
Home Phone No. 912234-6389
Date March 29, 1973

After? Give a value for L(=The Length), G(=The Ace Due
To Gra), M(=The Lower Val of Ang), N(=The Upper Value
of the Ang), and S(=The Step in which the Ang Increases)
And R(=The Number of full vibrations to be counted)
? 120, 988, 0, 100, 10, 30

Len of Pend =120
Ace Due to Gra = 988
Low Ang Val =
Hig Ang Val = 100
No of Vibs Counted = 30
T = Time of Vib for F Deg Swing
Ti = Time for Zero Deg Swing
T3 = T-Ti

T4 = No of Vibs Counted x T3
Ang T

2.18974

10 2.19391

20 2.20653

30 2.22785

40 2.25833

50 2.29855

60 2,34918

70 2.41078

80 2.48358

90 2.56717

100 2.66024

2.18974

4.17624E-3

.125287

2.18974

.016793

.50379

2.18974

3.81172E-2

1.14352

2.18974

6.85936E-2

2.05781

2.18974

.108817

3,2645

2.18974

.159446

4.78337

2.18974

.221044

6.63131

2.18974

.293838

8.81515

2.18974

.37743

11.3229

2.18974

.470501

14.115

130

REFRACTION IN A PRISM - A COMPUTER

SIMULATED EXPERIMENT

TO CALCULATE THE ANGLES

OF DEVIATION AND TO PLOT THE I-D CURVE

V. Anantha Narayanan
Professor of Physics
P. 0. Box 20473
Savannah State College
Savannah, Georgia 31404
INTRODUCTION
The refraction in a prism is one of the most commonly done
experiments in the general physics laboratory sessions. However,
it is a time consuming experiment, especially, if sufficient data
have to be collected to plot a curve of the angle of incidence
against the angle of deviation. The purpose of this note is to
describe a computer program that has been developed by the
author. It is in Basic language and employs the time sharing com-
puting facilities available at SSC campus, for its execution.
Savannah State College has remote terminals connected to the
CDC 6400 computer at the University of Georgia in Athens.

A table of data is extracted from the program and the data is
used to plot the graph between angles of incidence and angles of
deviation. The program is versatile enough so that, for one
familiar with programming, with slight modifications wide
variety of experiments by altering refractive indices, Prism angle
etc. could be simulated.

FORMULAS

In Figure I is given the path of the light ray through the

prism. The various symbols for angles used in Figure I, and in the

computer program are explained in Table I. It is well known that

the following relations hold good for refraction in a Prism.

U= refractive index = Sin I = Sin(I3). . . .(1)

Sin(Rl) Sin Q

A = (Rl) + Q (2)

and I + (13) = A + D (3)

COMPUTER ANALYSIS
In Appendix I is given a partial computer program. The sub-
routine that plots 13 vs D is not included due to space limitation.
In appendix II is given a trial run of the program. In appendix
III is given a computer plot of 13 vs D. In the author's general
physics 202 classes, this program was used to (i) simulate the
refraction in a prism experiement and/or use the program to
check the experimental results and (ii) to provide individual
numerical problems for students to be solved in written tests.
Both these approaches were very well received and appreciated
by the students. Also (iii) the student's perception of the idea of

131

minimum deviation is greatly aided both by the tabular data and
by the I-D curve.

SUMMARY
A computer simulated experiment dealing with refraction in
a Prism has been developed and class tested successfully at
Savannah State College in my physics classes.

FIGURE I
REFRACTION IN A PRISM

132

TABLE I

A = Prism angle in degree
Al = Prism angle in radians

I = Angle of incidence on Face 1 in degrees

II = Angle of incidence on Face 1 in radians
Rl = Angle of refraction on Face 1 in degrees
R = Angle of refraction on Face 1 in radians
Q = Angle of refraction on Face 2 in degrees
R2 = Angle of refraction on Face 2 in radians
13 = Angle of incidence on Face 2 in degrees
12 = Angle of incidence on Face 2 in radians
D = Angle of deviation in degrees

Dl = Angle of deviation in radians

APPENDIX I

A partial listing of the Computer Program (The I-D plot
subroutine is excluded due to space limitation)

10 Print "Optics: Program 8000"

20 Print "Ang of Dev for Var Ang of Inc and a Plot of

30 Print "I VS D"

40 Print "Author: Dr. V. Anantha Narayanan"

50 Print

60 Print

80 Print "For further details contact: Dr. V. Anantha Narayanan"

90 Print "P. O. Box No. 20473, Savannah State College, Savannah"

100 Print "Ga, 31404. Tel. No. 912-354-5717 Ext. 318"

110 Print "Office Room No. 212 New Sci. Bldg., Savannah State Coll."

120 Print "Home Phone No. 912-234-6389"

150 Print "After? Give a value for U = (The Refractive Index of

160 Print "The Material of the Prism)"

400 Print "This Program Calculates the Angle of Deviation"

410 Print "In a Prism as a Function of Angle of Incidence"

478 Print

479 Print

480 Print "This Program Was Written by Dr. V. Anantha Narayanan"
500 Print "On April 10, 1972"

520 Print

560 Print

600 Rem for Simplicity an Equilateral Prism Is Used

700 Input U

750 Print "Ref Ind of the Prism =": U

801 Print "Inc 1 Deg"; Tab(12); "Ref 1 Deg"; Tab(32); "Inc 2 Deg"; Tab(48);

802 Print "Ref 2 Deg"; Tab(60); "Dev Ang Deg"

810 Rem I is the Angle of incidence on Face 1 in Degrees

811 For I = 25 to 89 Step 4
850 Let II = .01745329251994*1

880 Rem II is I converted to radians

900 Let P=Sin(Il)

950 Let Q = P/U

990 Rem Q is Sin(P) Where R is refraction angle on face one

1000 Rem in radians

1020 Let R = Atn(Q/SQR(l-Q**2))

1050 Let Rl = 57.295779513082*R

1090 Rem Rl is R converted in degrees

1100 Let A = 60

1200 Rem A is the prism angle in degrees

1240 Let AI = A*.01745329251994

1300 Rem Al is prism angle converted in radians

1400 Let R2 = Al-R

133

1500 Rem R2 is the angle of refraction on face two in radians

1600 Let Q = 57.295779513082*R2

1700 Rem Q is the angle of refraction on face two in degrees

1800 Let S2 = U*Sin(R-)

1900 Let 12 = Atn(S2/Sqr(l-S2**2))

2000 Rem R2 is the angle of refraction on face two in radians

2100 Let S2 = U*Sin (R 2 )

2200 Let S2= Sin (12)

2300 Let 12 = Atn(S2/Sqr(l-S2**2))

2400 Rem S2 is Sin(I2)

2500 Rem S2 is Sin(I2)

2600 Let 12 = Atn(S2/Sqr(l-S2**2))

2800 Let 13 = 12*57.295779513082

2801 Let Dl = I1 + I2-A1

2802 Let D = Dl*57.295779513082.

3100 Rem D is ang of deviation in degs and Dl is in radians

3200 Print I; Tab(12); Rl; Tab(32); 13; Tab(48); Q; Tab(60); D

3400 Print

3600 Next I

3700 Stop

3800 Return

5000 R em **********Plot Subroutine

APPENDIX II

Sample run of the Tabular Data

Optics: Program 8000

Ang of dev for var ang of inc and a plot of

I vs D

Author: Dr. V. Anantha Narayanan

For further details contact: Dr. V. Anantha Narayanan, P. O. Box No. 20473,

Savannah State College, Savannah, Ga., 31404. Tel. No. 912354-5717 Ext. 318,

Office Room No. 212, New Sci. Bldg., Savannah State Coll., Home Phone No.

912234-6389.

After? Give a Value for U = (The refractive index of the material of the Prism)

This program calculates the angle of deviation in a prism as a function of angle of

incidence

This program was written by Dr. V. Anantha Narayanan on April 10, 1972

? 1.4563

Ref Ind of the

Prism = 1.4563

Inc 1 Deg

Ref 1 Deg

Inc 2 Deg

Ref 2 Deg

Dev ang Deg

16.8699

84.629

43.1301

49.629

19.4452

71.2357

40.5548

40.2357

21.9618

63.8123

38.0382

36.8123

24.4091

57.947

35.5909

34.947

26.7756

52.9334

33.2244

33.9334

29.0485

48.5032

30.9515

33.5032

31.2141

44.5285

28.7859

33.5285

33.2573

40.9433

26.7427

33.9433

35.1621

37.7142

24.8379

34.7142

36.9112

34.8269

23.0888

35.8269

38.4869

32.2792

21.5131

37.2792

39.8711

30.0768

20.1289

39.0768

41.0462

28.2301

18.9538

41.2301

41.9955

26.752

18.0045

43.752

42.7045

25.6554

17.2955

46.6554

43.1616

24.9515

16.8384

49.9515

43.359

24.6483

16.641

53.6483

134

APPENDIX HI

COMPUTER PLOT OF I VS D
Horizontal Range 33.5032 (.402902) 53.6483
Vertical Range 89 (1.28) 25

10 20 30 40 50 60 70 80 90 100
+ ___, H \----i 1 H 1 1 1- [-/

100 - ^ D( = Angle of Deviation) *

96 - s '

90 - S

66 -

64 -

62 -

60 -

58 -

56 -

54 -

52 -

50 - h

48 - /

46 - /

44 - *

42 - '

40 - I

38 - *

36 -

34 - '

oc - *

30 - ^

28 .-

26 - \

24 - \

22 - >

20 -

18 -

16 -

> /

2, /

12 - \

10 -

8 - *

6 - ^

4 - >^^

- i _| 1 ^ 1 1 h 1 1 J P".

10 20 30 40 50 60 70 80 90 100

135

BLACK POLITICAL AUTOBIOGRAPHIES:
PANACEA FOR A RACE

Hanes Walton, Jr.
Isaiah Mclver

After every social, economic, and political revolution, after
every insurrection, after every uprising, after every riot, after
every social movement, after every significant demonstration, af-
ter every significant expression of mass indignation by in-
dividuals within a society, especially American society, there is
an outpouring of tracts, treaties, books, pamphlets, articles, series
of speeches, talks, etc., of the behind-the-scene happening by par-
ticipants, leaders, in-the-know followers and the theoretician of
the new passed social or political happening. The books and
tracts give the non-participant, the casual observer, the historian,
the Johnny come lately and sometimes the little in the know par-
ticipant a "true" and supposedly "accurate" picture of the real
decision makers, the real errors, the real problem and the real
victories.

These after-the-facts-treatises tell us all that the on-the-spot
newspapermen missed, the on-the-spot television men failed to
record and the facts which even the most trained and skilled
analyst failed to see. In a word, the first-hand accounts are
cherished in America, for in our society, like most others, the hero
who lives to tell his story is much revered and looked up to.
Hence, the author of the first-hand accounts is not only the hero
of a pageantry which has passed but it is possible to pick up from
these people who seemed to have been in the vanguard of our
society i.e., way ahead of their time some insights of the
future. In the final analysis, they all tell us in the dwindling
pages of their story what we might expect in the future. In short,
the insiders are expected to give us solutions for our problems
a panacea to cure all. Like the slave narratives they:

1. Describe the sufferings, struggles, and ascendency of
one person whose experiences are representative of many
others in a similar predicament.

2. They generally begin at a point where the person is
suffering from oppression; there is an effort to escape;
there may be conversion; and finally there is attainment
of a promised land in either the secular or spiritual
sense.

3. Have plots of struggles that may be on a slave plan-
tation, in a jail, in a segregated society, or consist of a
series of adventures anywhere in the world.

4. May be stories or narratives of courageous persons
who are devoted, unselfish, courageous, revered, and

136

utilize their vision and perseverance to lift themselves to
positions of leadership and power.

5. Inspire others, are treatises on virtue, are odysseys,
serve as moral guides, point the way to success, is the
self-portrait of one totally committed to the achievement
of an objective, and tend to parallel tales of paradise lost
and paradise regained.

6. Are records of one's experiences which are designed to
attack evil institutions, evil practices, and evil
ideologies.

7. Are generally evolutionary in nature, filled with
drama, filled with the miraculous, are thrilling, are ex-
citing, and almost always depict someone emerging from
some humble position. 1

So it is in every epoch making period in history the first hand
accounts that are in many cases also autobiographic in that they
give us the background information of our hero and what made
him be ahead of his time and the masses.

Politicians, diplomats, military leaders, Indian chiefs,
secretaries of significant public figures, wives of great men, etc.,
all take to the pen to correct or exact images for the muse of
history. And while much exaggeration and mythmaking goes into
these accounts, something of value might be plummed from the
prescribed panacea the correct road for the future. The slave
narratives and Booker T. Washington's Up From Slavery served
as landmarks for the future personal memoirs to be written by
Black Americans. Even though many considered Washington's
memoirs to be a fantastic example of social Darwinism in
operation and as an example of a slave boy who had suffered
every humiliation possible before achieving world fame, actually,
Washington's autobiography is a slave narrative in the classic
tradition. 2 From the slave narratives came the spirit, the vitality,
the vision, the fatalism, and the optimism expressed in
autobiographies written by Black Americans. From John Saffin
to Angela Davis, consciously or unconsciously, contemporary
writers of autobiographies reveal in their writings a profound in-
debtedness to the slave narratives. The genre began with John
Saffin's Adam Negro Tryall in 1703 and has continued in Angela
Davis' If They Come in the Morning. 2

After and even during the Black social revolution of the fif-
ties and sixties the accounts of Black leaders began to appear for

Arne Bontemps, Great Slave Narratives (Boston: Beacon Press, 1970), pp. vii,
viii, xv, xviii.

2 Ibid.

3 Ibid., p. xi. John F. Bayliss (ed.), Black Slave Narratives (New York: Collier-
Macmillan, 1970), p. 9.

137

public consumption. Martin Luther King wrote Stride Toward
Freedom in 1957 which offered non-violence civil disobedience as
a tool for solving the problem facing Black Americans. 4 However,
King went on to put his theory in practice and became a major
force in the revolution of the sixties. But in 1966, he was
challenged and a new theory, approach and theoreticians were
born in the wake of Black Power.

A leading Black Power advocate, H. Rap Brown, wrote Die
Nigger Die (New York: Dial Press, 1969) as a political
autobiography in which he sought to show Blacks the way to
freedom. His panacea for the race was violent and total
revolution. He writes, "Racism stems from an attitude and it
can't be destroyed under the capitalist system. You can't fight at-
titudes . . . Black people have always dealt with attitudes and at-
titudes always boil down to an individual thing . . . [But]
Because most of the laws in this country are but an attitude, not
justice, not equality, revolution is necessary, (p. 124). He also
writes, "America is the ultimate denial of the theory of man's
continuous evolution. This country represents everything that
humans have suffered from, their very affliction . . . For Black
people it is not a question of leaving or separating . . . We know
better than anyone that the manic that is American must be
destroyed." (p. 135)

Rap concludes his panacea for the race on the notes that
"politics in this country is meaningless to Black people" and that
Black Americans "hold the key to liberation around the world,"
for they are "in the belly of the monster (America) which controls
the world."

If Rap decries politics as a tool of liberation and exhalts
violent revolution, Black Congresswoman Shirley Chisholm in
Unbought and Unbossed (New York: Houghton Mifflin, 1970)
sees exactly opposite to the way that Rap argues it. Her panacea
for Black freedom and liberation is politics ala the Black
politician. She states, "By affirming and fighting for the values
that are life sustaining, black politicians can become the
vanguard of the forces that will save this country, if it is to be
saved." (p. 149)

To Black militants, she queries, "What is the sense of
shooting, burning, killing? What will it buy? All they have to do is
press a button in Washington and every black neighborhood will
be surrounded with troops and bayonets. What are you going to
do against the massive forces of the government?" (p. 144)

Then she tells Black militants that one must fight within the
system. "There is no other place to fight . . . There's no other way
for us to survive because we really don't have anything." (p. 144)
The goal for Black people then is to change the system. "Shake it

4 For weakness in this solution see H. Walton, Jr., The Political Philosophy of
Martin Luther King, Jr. (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Publishing Corp., 1971).

138

up, make it change in order for it to survive. It's not necessary to
dump it, only to make it work." (p. 132) However, before she
closes, Congresswoman Chisholm indicates that "Education . . .
will not be enough, even a college education." (p. 140)

If Chisholm promoted Black politics and politicians and
berated education as a panacea for the race, Benjamin E. Mays
in his book, Born to Rebel (New York: Charles Scribners, 1971),
was of the opposite opinion. Mays argued that educational ex-
cellence and offensive non-violence would be "the best ways by
which to improve Negro-white relations" in the future, (p. 320)

As Mays perceives it, during seventy years and earlier, "no
program has ever been proposed that has produced a solution to
this problem which has dominated the thinking of black people
and white people over three centures." (p. 300) Yet as does his
book, he wrote what he thought would be the answer, the
solution, the panacea to man's inhumanity to man. He writes
"At Morehouse College I had tried to develop an academic com-
munity that was supra culture, supra race, supra religion, and
supra nation. I tried to build this kind of college because I
believed then, as I do now, that unless we succeed in building this
same kind of world mankind's existence on earth is indeed
precarious." (p. 310) In short, a supra man, devoid of the
prejudices and discrimination that abound in the masses. A man
so learned and aloof that he overcomes all the ideologies that
plague ordinary mortals.

Mays gave politics or political activism no major position or
role in his construct for the future. His panacea was almost
devoid of politics and political activism. However, Charles Evers
in Evers (New York: World Publishing Company, 1971) elevated
coalition politics and political activism as the panacea for the
race. He writes in the last page of his autobiography "We've
proven here in Mississippi what does work: brotherhood,
patience, courage, firmness of purpose, organization, the ballot
box, intelligence." (p. 195) He also states, "We must have the con-
tinuation of the Voting Rights Act [beyond 1975]. If you (whites)
defeat that, then you're (whites) really going to have trouble in
this country because we will not have any hope. Our hope is
through voting ... If you take that away from us, we're through."
(p. 138.) Before concluding, Evers counsels the militants that the
extremist groups will never have political success. And political
success is what counts. The Panthers will have no more success
than the Klan did. For Evers, like Chisholm, violent revolution
and education did not play much of a role in their future con-
structs. And for Rap and Mays, politics didn't play much of a role
in their future. Each leader put forth hs own panacea.

Cleaver's Soul on Ice (New York: Dell Publishing Company,
1968) is a collection of essays. Like Brown, Cleaver discovered
himself somewhat late in life. His autobiography represents an
intellectual, psychological and political struggle. He is by no
means a "proper Negro." He is a creator of myths and promises,

139

but is not a Nihilist like many of his contemporaries who share
his revolutionary zeal more so than his sense of history. He does
tear the system apart, but does suggest some ideas on how it
should be restructured. His dilemmas are as intense and as in-
soluble as those which confronted his contemporaries and his
odyssey is both spiritual and intellectual. He wrote his
autobiography in Folsom State Prison in California and ex-
presses in it Christian grief and disappointment, Christian
resignation, Christian messianic toughness, and Christian hope.
Malcolm X was one of his heroes and his death required of
Cleaver the same need to frantically reorient himself as when a
prison guard surreptitiously ripped his Esquire paper bride from
its pedestal, tore her into small bits, dropped the pieces into the
commode, and suggested that he get a black female as a pin-up.
After the pin-up incident and release from prison, Cleaver saw
the error of his ways, began cursing white Americans, and sought
revenge against white society by consciously, deliberately,
willfully, and methodically sexually defining white women. Until
he was placed in prison a second time, Cleaver said he delighted 5
in defying and trampling upon white man's law. And just as the
Esquire pin-up served as his surrogate sex queen, the rape of
white women was considered both delightful and insurrectionary.
It appears that Cleaver did not rid himself of the white
apotheosis until his second stay in prison.

In Soul on Ice, he appears to be more of a humanist than
racist. He is concerned with injustice and appeared somewhat op-
timistic. He placed himself between disenchanted youths, em-
phathized with their existential condition, and stood between two
antagonists when he wrote:

There is in American today a generation of white youth
that is truly worthy of a black man's respect ... if young
whites can change, then there is hope for America. 6
Cleaver accommodated, was promoted from solitary confinement
for Muslim agitation, and was placed in a cell in Folsom's honor
unit and began writing and reading so as to retain his sanity. He
saw blacks as comprising a colony within America and suggest
that:

If the American Negro is to eliminate white Colonialism,
he must organize. The twenty-three million blacks in the
United States as a Trojan horse, capable of accom-
plishing mighty deeds if they cooperated in one great
organization, Malcolm X had proved to be a giant and
his call for the establishment of the Organization of
Afro-American Unity was surely the way to the future,
but unfortunately he was butchered before he could
awaken the movement. A way must be found to mold all

5 George R. Metcalf, Black Profiles (New York: McGraw-Hill Book Company,
1970), pp. 369-400.
6 Ibid.

140

the disparate Negro groups from the narrow plea for
civil rights to the universal demand for human rights.
The need for one organization that will give one voice to
the black man's common interest is felt in every bone
and fiber of black America. 7
Cleaver's first published article, "Notes of a Native Son," implies
that Baldwin was at one time Cleaver's literary hero, but also
maintains in the article that Baldwin's sycophantic love for
whites was the unpardonable of unpardonables and this illicit
love affair deprived Baldwin of his masculinity. Cleaver experi-
enced several transformations. One came in December, 1966
when he was paroled out of Soledad Prison and became senior
editor of Ramparts. Another noticeable change is evidenced when
he came in contact with the Panthers in February, 1967. At the
Malcolm X memorial celebration Cleaver states that he inquired
of the assembled group what would be the nature of the
discussion and Hucy P. Newton answered:

It doesn't matter what section we speak under, we're

going to talk about political power growing out of the

barrel of a gun. 8

Cleaver states that this statement caused his eyes to widen with

pride and realized that he was confronting for the first time the

elite and revolutionary Black Panthers.

Following Cleaver's release from Soledad Prison, his life
becomes a series of struggles and dilemmas. He saw a literary
career an unfulfilling and felt obligated to mix writing with his
full-time revolutionary struggle for black liberation. Cleaver felt
that:

Every black writer must combine writing with active
partianship in the black cause to be worthy of respect.
One must join the mass movement to gain sustenance
from the struggle of the dispossessed in order to qualify. 9
In one sense Cleaver speaks of the desirability of revolutionary
courage but at the same time feared that total involvement with
the Panthers would lead to his parole being rescinded. Yet, he felt
an obligation to provide counsel to the Panthers since Newton
was in jail and there were no others who could speak or write ef-
fectively. By 1968 fate made him titular leader of the Panther
party. Nevertheless, Cleaver spent most of the time supporting
Panther causes and took the position that:

The only remedy is to change the system is to replace the
social order with something more equitable where none
are property and whites do not own everything.
Cleaver saw his struggle as revolutionary, yet he was torn be-
tween personal security and total devotion to Panther ideals. He

7 Ibid.
Hbid.
*Ibid.

141

was action oriented, saw Martin Luther King, Jr. as too
rhetorical. Cleaver held that whites did not understand King's
philosophy of nonviolence and it was alien to his nature. Still,
Cleaver maintained a tremendous amount of respect for King.
Both were humanists, hoped to restructure America, and both
were political and social moralizers.

A certain complicyt links the works written by Mays, King,
Brown, Baldwin, and Cleaver with those of Angela Davis and
George Jackson. They share the same necessity of finding in
themselves and leading others to discover routes around ob-
stacles, and the path to salvation. There is an element of
ignominy in all of these literary creations in that they start in
search of self amidst repression. And despite an absence of
means, employ courage, audacity, perserverance, and daring to
discover common visions and ideals. The Soledad brotherhood is
a new phenomenon in American society. It is promoting a
tremendous intellectual ferment among the young blacks in
America's prisions. Accompanying this is an outburst of literary
creativity, an intense desire for self-education, black history study
groups, passionate debate, and the demand for specified classes is
often the source of recent bitter struggles in prisons. The
following autobiographical sketches of Angela Davis and George
Jackson are only two examples of what blacks are doing behind
prison walls.

George Jackson's Soledad Brothers: The Prison Letters of
George Jackson (New York: Bantam Books, 1970) and Angwa
Davis' If They Come in the Morning (New York: The Third Press,
1970) suggest that the American judicial and prison systems are
instruments of unbridled repression. They also maintain that
society and its institutions are impervious to meaningful reform
and must be transformed in the revolutionary sense. Both
autobiographies suggest:

1. That blacks must struggle by any and all means
necessary to achieve liberation from the oppression of
the white American state.

2. That the white judiciary and legal structure has never
been a source of justice or equitable treatment for the
black, the bronw, the poor or for any of their militant ad-
vocates.

3. American has a long history of exalted appeals to
justice. Man has an inherent right to resist but no
agreement on how to relate in practice to unjust im-
moral laws and opressive racial order from which they
emanate.

In the opening essay of her autobiography Angela Davis writes:
The offense of the political prisoner is his political bold-
ness, his persistent challenging legally or extra-legally

142

of fundamental social wrongs fostered and reinforced
by the state. He has opposed unjust laws and ex-
ploitative racist social conditions in general, with the
ultimate aim of transforming these laws and this society
into an order harmonious with the material and
spiritual needs and interests of the vast majority of its
members, (p. 24).

Both Davis and Jackson are being taught and have been taught
by bitter experience that there are glaring incongruities between
the ideals of democracy and its practices. The right to defense ad-
vocated by Davis and others is not just military defense of the
person but personal legal defense as well. They appear not to
realize that their imprisonment is based on the legal and the
political and the two are inseparable. They do, however, see at-
torneys appointment by the state as part of a conspiracy to hide
and conceal evidence that will show that the state and all
American institutions are practicing slavery, under the color of
law without legal power, but they refuse to realize that the
judicial system is obligated to at least go through their time
honored rituals. A black political prisoner has to be rather naive
to believe that the court will appoint an attorney to win a case or
to expose inherent judicial inequities. Both Davis and Jackson
represent a tremendous amount of formal and experiential
knowledge but fail to comprehend America's myths. Not only
does Angela Davis see herself as a political prisoner, but her
knowledge of history is evident when she writes:

Nat Turner and John Brown can be viewed as examples
of the political prisoner who actually committed an act
which is defined by the state as criminal. They killed
and were consequently tried for murder. But did they
commit murder? This raises the question of whether
American revolutionaries had murdered the British in
their struggle for liberation . . . The very institutions
which condemned Nat Turner and reduced his struggle
to a simple criminal case of murder, owed their existence
to the decision, made a half century earlier, to take up
arms against the British oppressor, (p. 23-24.)

Just as Davis sees the judicial system as self-perpetuating and

bourgeois, George Jackson in a letter to his mother and friends

from Soledad Prison expressed the belief that these middle class

institutions are not serving middle class ends in stating:

The shift to the revolutionary anti-establishment

position that Huey Newton, Elridge Cleaver and Bobby

Seal projected as a solution to the problems of America's

black colonies has taken firm on these brother's minds.

They are now showing great interey in the thoughts of

Mao Tse-tung, Nkrumah, Lenin, Marx and the

achievements of men like Che Guevana and Undo No.

(p. 30.)

143

Jackson stated further:

These prisons have always borne a certain resemblance
to Dachau and Buchenwald, places for the bad niggers,
Mexicans and poor whites . . . with the time and incen-
tive that these brothers have to read, study, and think,
you will find no class or category more aware, more em-
bittered, desperate, or dedicated to the ultimate remedy
revolution, (p. 31.)
Jackson maintains that the prison camps bring out the very best
in brothers, destroy them entirely, or produce more than their
share of Bunchy Carters and Elridge Cleavers. Like Elridge
Cleaver, George Jackson implies that his father or middle class
blacks are somewhat unenlightened in regard to the ills of
American society. Jackson maintained that his father and other
bourgeois blacks could not deal with political reality as en-
visioned by George Jackson because:

Their minds can't deal with it. I would use every device,
every historical and current example, I could reach to
explain to him that there were no good pigs. But the task
was too big. I was fighting his mind first, and his fear of
admitting the existence of an identifiable enemy element
that was oppressing us because that would either com-
mit him to attack that enemy or force him to admit his
cowardice. I was also fighting the establishment's public
relations and public relations and propaganda machine.
The prisons all use the clean, straight faces, or the old,
harmless-looking pigs to work in areas where they must
come in contact with free people . . . these pigs are never
allowed to use their tusks, (p. 33-34).
Jackson saw his father as one of those persons who accepted the
mythical lie and felt that peace had to be preserved at any price.
Freedom must have been a remote concept to Jackson, but
nevertheless he continued to speak of and lead his rhetorical
crusade for physical, spiritual, and psychological freedom of
blacks.

The following excerpt from one of his many letters from
prison to relatives and friends expresses his determination and
messianic conviction that his cause was just, proper and that the
struggle would continue even after death:

"Hurl me into the next existence, the descent into hell
won't turn me. I'll crawl back to dog his trail forever.
They won't defeat my revenge, never, never. I'm part of a
righteous people who anger slowly, but rage undamned.
We'll gather at his door in such a number that the rum-
bling of our feet will make the earth tremble."

Both Davis and Jackson maintain in their writings that overt
racism exists unchecked in American society. Jackson pointed out
examples of racism in the prison system and Davis maintains
that the judicial process is also racist. In one essay in Angela's

144

autobiography it is stated that Angela wanted to represent herself
but the courts will not permit this. In her essay Margaret Bur-
nharn asserts:

A court's dexision to recognize or refuse an accused's
demand to represent himself is a highly political one,
made to advance the interest of a decaying but yet self-
perpetuating bourgeois judicial system, (p. 211)
Like John Brown and Nat Turner, both Davis and the
deceased George Jackson were and are political prisoners. They
were and are being charged and penalized for the practical exten-
sion of their profound commitment. Howard Moore, chief counsel
for Davis, writes in his essay:

As incredible as the charges against Angela are, they
must be met at both the legal and political levels. It is
not enought to meet them on just one level. That would
be only a partial defense. The objective of the
prosecution is not just to lynch Angela but to lynch her
as a symbol of resistance . . .(p. 199)
Angela Davis emphatized with the Soledad brothers, supported
their struggle for liberation, and now, like them, she is attempting
to shape a new order from behind prison walls. Like Jackson and
others who penned autobiographies, she is attempting to expose
the evils of American society. To a very large extent, she is being
penalized for her tireless defense of the Soledad brothers and
other political prisoners, her efforts to expose American racism,
and is also suffering the wrath of America's rulers for being a
black female intellectual and a Communist who refused to
remain quiet in the comfortable cocoon in which she found her-
self as a teacher.

Jackson's crusade ended in an untimely death on August 21,
1971 at San Quentin Prison. There is no doubt that both Davis
and Jackson believe strongly in their cause. Unlike Cleaver and
Brown, they refuse to be broken. Even in death, Jackson con-
tinues to inspire fellow inmates and those enslaved outside prison
walls. According to Huey P. Newton:

George Jackson is a living legend throughout the prison
system. Every inmate that I've talked to, every convict
who has been around the California prisons for any
length of time, knows about George and has high regard
for him. Even some of the white "racist" inmaktes have
respect for him because they view him as a man who is
totally straight. They know he is going to do exactly
what he says he is going to do. They know George is a
"for-real" man. George has rejected even the possibility
of getting out of prison because he refuses to violate his
own integrity or the integrity of his fellow inmates. He
refuses to compromise in any way to gain personal
privilege. He has stood up and let himself be counted
regardless of personal cost. George is a true
revolutionary.

145

George Jackson appears to represent an ideological contradic-
tion. In letters to his friends he wrote "calamity has hardened my
mind, and turned it to steel. Yet he ended many of his letters
"with love George." The following excerpt from one of his let-
ters suggests his ambivalent nature:

"If I leave here alive, I'll leave nothing behind. They'll
never count me among the broken men, but I can't say
that I'm normal either. I've been hundry too long, I've
gotten angry too often. I've been lied to and insulted too
many times. They've pushed me over the line from which
there can be no retreat. I know that they will not be
satisfied until they've pushed me out of this existence
altogether. I've been the victim of so many racist attacks
that I could never relax again ... I can still smile now,
after ten years of blocking knife thrusts, and the pick
handles of facless sadistic pigs, of anticipating and reac-
ting for ten years, seven of them in solitary. I can still
smile sometimes, but by the time this thing is over I may
not be a nice person. And I just lit my seventy-seventh
cigarette of this twenty-one -hour day. I'm going to lay
down for two or three hours, perhaps I'll sleep . . .

From Dachau, with love, George"

Some, however, might argue that this excerpt does not in-
dicate that Jackson was torn by ambivalent emotions, was
together in all respects, and that his love was unbounded
revolutionary love for his brothers and sisters engaged in his
struggle.

Since the central question which confronted every Black man
is what he can do to enlarge his freedom, to create in himself a
sense of his inherent worth and to develop economic and political
security is omnipresent, the need for panaceas will be om-
nipresent. But the reader of Black autobiographies whether he
read the aforementioned contemporary autobiographies or
whether he ventures back in time to the day of Douglass, Delany,
Washington, DuBois or Garvey, he will find nearly a different
panacea for each man or woman he reads. The autobiographies
will extol the virtues of each solution, while the other books will
invariably extol the weakness of vices of that particular ap-
proach.

Mays advanced education because he is an educator, Rap ad-
vances revolution because he is of a revolutionary stance,
Chisholm exhalts the role of the Black politicians because she
has been actively immersed in the art of politics and Evers sees
coalition politics as the road to salvation because of his activism
and succes in politics.

Although each person disagreed on the correct panacea,
three of them Mays, Chisholm and Evers see a truly in-
tegrated society with a pluralistic cultural base in other words,
a cultural pluralism as the society for the future. On the other

146

hand, Rap, unlike these three, does not see the possibilities of
society changing and therefore envisions a totally new society and
world order. While he does not describe his new Atlantis, one can
tell from his statement that it will be devoid of white power and
maybe white people.

In sum, the autobiographies give one a glimpse of two
possible futures. One is a reformed American where justice will
prevail, the other point is that tomorrow there will be no
America, but a destroyed one. Which one is true it is difficult to
say. But one thing is for sure, Black Americans and white
American can expect more power and more projections from
those who struggle to solve the Black-white problem in America.

147

THE POLITICAL THEORY OF THE BLACK MUSLIMS

Hanes Walton, Jr.

Isaiah Mclver

Every social group or mass movement sooner or later
develops its own social, political, or economic philosophy. If the
group fails to do so collectively, it is done by one individual or
several individuals within the group or movement. The develop-
ment of this ideology or philosophy is essential because it outlines
not only to the adherents and possible converts, the goals, pur-
pose, objectives and aims of the group, but it also sells the group
to the public while giving the group its essential distinctive
characteristic features. In sum, a group or movement or
organization gains in part its uniqueness from its basic
philosophical underpinning be it of a religious, cultural,
economic or political nature.

Throughout history groups like Epicureans, the Stoics, the
Roman lawyers, the Christian Fathers, the Physiocrats, the
Utilitarians, the Socialists, the Anarchists, the Levellers, the
Diggers, the Owenites, 1 etc., developed various philosophical un-
derpinnings to distinguish themselves in the clash between ideas
and to leave their mark on time and human endeavors.

Many of these theories had some unique ideas about govern-
ment and the best political organization for the ideal society.
While some of the philosophical insights that these groups
provided into the nature of government and its role in man's
quest for freedom were useless or Utopian, some were beneficial
and in use today and even some others are still controversial and
debated.

Political scientists who analyzed those groups which have
developed philosophic constructs about the political nature of
society have generally paid little or no attention to the political
ideas or thoughts of minority groups within American society. 2
But despite this omission or commission, Black speculation from
a philosophical perspective has taken place about politics in
America and have come up with some universal if not different
views of government and the ideal political society. 3

Since political theory develops out of a crisis situation, then
Black leaders have considered from time to time Black-white
relations in America to be crisis-like and have sought to develop
political solutions for the problem.

'For a discussion of some of these ideas see Gerald Runkle, A History of
Western Political Theory (New York: The Ronald Press, 1968) and George Sabine,
A History of Political Theory (New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1963).

2 See H. Walton, Jr., "Black Political Thought: The Problem of Charac-
terization," Journal of Black Studies (Third Quarter, 1971).

3 See Hanes Walton, Jr., The Political Philosophy of Martin Luther King, Jr.
(Connecticut: Greenwood Publishing Corp., 19710, Chapter 3.

148

One such Black group which has created a distinctive
political thought is the Black Muslims. 4 Their chief theorists has
been Elijah Muhammad, while at one time their main spokesman
and promoter was Malcolm X. Although the Black Muslims have
been written about and discussed and described over and over
again, their political philosophy has not been clearly delineated
and analyzed in the light of western political theory for its
similarities and differences, as well as for its contribution to the
streams of western political thought. 5 Therefore, in this paper an
attempt will be made to describe, analyze and compare the
political philosophy of the Black Muslims with other similar
political theories in the history of western political theory. To
discern and delineate the political ideas of the Black Muslims a
methodological tool was devised to highlight the chief aspects
that make up a political philosophy. Since all political
philosophies or theories offer some metaphysical principles, some
concept of human nature, some technique for bringing about the
desired order and some discussion of the new society, we ha
analyzed the literature of the organization from this standpoint.

Of Influences and Influential

One of the greatest forces which led to the emergence of the
Black Muslim religious sect was the socio-political environment
in America during the thirties. Blacks during the thirties were in
the midst of the depression and Marcus Garvey, with his dream of
Back-to-Africa had failed. In fact, no other mass leader had
emerged to offer Blacks a way out.

Black Americans were suffering under the impact of Jim
Crowism. Discrimination, prejudice and segregation were a way
of life in America. Racism was well entrenched in the political,
economic, social and cultural fabric of society. And its
ramifications for Black Americans were many. For instance,
police brutality stalked the inhabitants of Soulsville day and
night. Housing was not available in the urban areas. Hence, ghet-
tos were well under way 6 and the misery which exists within them
heavily burder the Black inhabitants who had fled from the
South in search of a better day and place. They had gone to the

4 For a full fledge discussion of the Black Muslims see C. Eric Lincoln, The
Black Muslims in America (Boston: Beacon Press, 1961) and C. Eric Lincoln,
Black Nationalism (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 196 ) and Louis Lomax,
When the Word is Given (Cleveland: World Publishing Co., 1963) and Bernard
Cushmeer, This is the One Messenger Elijah Muhammad (Chicago: Truth
Publications, 1971).

5 Any quick look or glance at contemporary textbooks on American Political
thought one will find it devoid of the political ideas of Blacks in general and the
Muslims in particular.

6 See Gilbert Osofsky, Harlem: The Making of a Ghetto (New York: Harper
and Row, 1968). Allan Spear, Black Chicago (Chicago: The University of Chicago
Press, 19670. Robert Weaver, The Ghetto (New York: Harper & Row, 1948).

149

promise land only to find the problem even more difficult than
had been realized. 7

In a society where misery was increased for a people without
them being able to do anything about it, there was also the lack
of a Black organization to meaningfully assist the masses who
shared the burnt of suffering. Although the NAACP had been for-
med, its legalistic approach to the problem left too much to be
desired. Moreover, it left too many people out and it was far too
feeble to do the massive job required of it. 8 Other Black "orgs"
were in even less of a position to do much about the Black man's
problem in the thirties.

To add to the misery of Blacks was the mis-fired dream of
Marcus Garvey. 9 Garvey's vision had promised so much and had
captured so much enthusiasm among Blacks that a new hope was
prevalent in Soulsville. The Reverend Doctor Benjamin Mays
writes, "Garvey had the qualities of leadership to stir the Black
masses. He had charisma, he was eloquent, he was black. No
other black leader, in my time, had attracted the masses as did
Garvey. He did for Negroes what no other leader before him had
done and what no black leader would do again, until the 1960's:
he made them proud of their heritage, proud of being Black." 10
Some Black observers estimated Garvey's following at one
million, others at three and still others at six million. Yet Garvey,
with his universal Negro Improvement Association that boasts
over nine hundred branches throughout the world, had fizzled by
1925. The hope that Garvey's movement generated soon faded
and a void, a gap, was left in Soulsville.

Before Garvey arrived there were riots during the Red Sum-
mer of 1919, which would not be revived again until the sixties.
Lynching was on the increase and the Ku Klux Klan was
becoming a national power. In the South the boll weevil had
struck and the economic collapse of King Cotton 11 had caused
much suffering and misery. There was not much in the North to
generate hope as President Woodrow Wilson segregated the
federal bureaucracy. 12 Thus, Garvey brought hope, a means of
escape, but his eclipse caused the old possibilities of misery to
once again raise their head.

7 See E. Franklin Frazier, The Negro Family in Chicago (Chicago: University
of Chicago Press, 1938) and his The Negro Family in America (New York: Mac-
millan, 1957).

8 See Gunnar Myrdal, An American Dilemma (New York: Harper & Brothers,
1944), pp. 831-36. Another critique of the organizational weakness of the NAACP
can be found in Warren D. St. James, The National Association For the Advan-
cement of Colored People (New York: Exposition Press, 1958).

Ibid.

'"Benjamin E. Mays, Born to Rebel (New York: Charles Scribners, 1971), p.
303.

"Eli Ginzberg, The Troublesome Presence (Glencoe: Free Press, 1964).

n Ibid., p. 318.

150

But now with Garvey gone and the Depression of 1928 setting
even worse, the inhabitants of Soulsville added one more problem
to their burden laden lives economic dissolution. With jobs
evaporation, money became scarce and the necessities of life
food, clothing, and shelter in Soulsville became a luxury.
Professor Raymond Wolters states "During the years of the
Great Depression Negroes were the most disadvantaged major
group in American Society; it is commonplace but nevertheless
accurate to say that they were the first fired and the last hired." 13
While the temporary welfare relief of the New Deal helped, the
New Deal itself did not appreciatively elevate the problem of the
Black masses.

Consequently, Black Americans in the midst of the
Depression, suffering economically, socially and politically
without hope and in fear of worst yet to come and without a
major organization to sustain them, flaundered about looking for,
in the words of Professor Arna Bontemps and Jack Conroy, any
place but here. 14

In fact, the situation had reached such a low ebb that W.E.B.
DuBois began to counsel Blacks to make the best out of
segregation by setting up self-help cooperatives. Dean Kelly
Miller of Howard urged Blacks in the cities to return to the farm
and make peace with the white farmer.

It was in this era of little hope and significant human misery
that the escapist Black religion was born. Father Divine began
his famous Peace movement that acquired millions of Black
followers. If Father Divine's movement was Norther based, in the
South Sweet Daddy Grace emerged. In the midwest came such
religious priests as Noble Drew Ali and W. D. Fard (the father of
the Black Muslim movement).

The religious priest of each sect offered salvation and a
promise of a better way of life in the world hereafter. They told
the burdened Black pilgrims that they had the key to heaven and
could admit anyone for a price. These "mortal gods", to use
Spinoza's term, soon found themselves with a tremendous
following and inducted thousands into their heavenly host. When
each one of those mortal "gods" departed (died) to prepare a
home for their heavenly host, their movements went on the wane,
except one W. D. Fard. 15

Fard, who began his teaching of Allah in Detroit, captured
much attention as well as a trusted and devoted lieutenant,
Elijah Poole from Sandersville, Georgia, who is now known as
Elijah Muhammad. Therefore, when Fard disappeared Elijah
continued Fard's work.

13 Raymond Wolters, Negroes and the Great Depression (Westport, Conn.:
Greenwood Publishing Corporation, 1970), p. ix.

14 Arna Bontemps & Jack Conroy, Any Place But Here (New York: Hill and
Wang, 1966).

15 Myrdal, op. cit, pp. 831-36.

151

There is one more major difference between Fard and the
other "mortal gods." This difference stems from the fact that
Father Divine, Daddy Grace and Noble Drew Ali saw themselves
as God incarnates, while Fard as does Elijah perceived
themselves to be only messengers of a God Allah. In other
words, they were disciples of a God far removed from this world.
And much of the message they delivered for their God Allah
had some political implication.

The Metaphysical Bases

The political philosophy of the Black Muslims emerges direc-
tly from their metaphysical presupposition which undergirds their
moral and religious principles. And it is these principles that
gives them their driving motif and ultimate distinctive charac-
teristics.

As the Muslims see it Allah is God. The source of all that is
good, merciful, and beneficence. Allah is the creator of the
Universe and its admirable features. He is synonymous with good.
Allah is the "God of Truth and Righteouness." 16 Elijah writes:
"He who has found in Our Father, the God of love, light, life,
freedom, justice, and equality. He has found his own, though his
own does not know him. They (the so-called Negroes) are
following and loving a foster father (the devil) who has no love
for them nor their real father but seeks to persecute and kill them
daily." 17

Not only is Allah good, compassionate, merciful and concer-
ned with his chosen people, he is "the best knower." "By Allah's
power and wisdom . . . you shall know the Truth even against
your own will." 18 Allah, in a word, is all wise and knowing. "He
will," stresses Elijah, "make himself known to the world that he
is God and besides him there is no God and that I am His
messenger, that Islam is a religion backed of the power of Allah
. . ." 19 Allah is the wisest and the one who knows all and can do
all. Therefore, those who have strayed from him will be
redeemed. There is no "Christian religion or church to withstand
Allah. Jesus was a Muslim, not a Christian." 20 Thus, no one "can
successfully oppose Allah in his day and time of rule?" Hence,
since Allah is omnipresent, omniscient, and omnipotent, the
creater of the chosen people, "the lost members of the original
Asiatic Black nation for four hundred years should submit to his
will and fear not, for he will deliver salvation unto them."

However, in the messenger's teaching, the only way to submit
oneself completely to Allah one must follow the true religion of

,6 Elijah Muhammad, Message to the Black Man in America (Chicago:
Muhammad Mosque of Islam No. 2, 1965), p. 3.
i7 Ibid., p. 4.
, iS Ibid., p. 21.
i9 Ibid., p. 22.
20 Ibid.

152

Allah. 21 This true religion is also the only religion as well as the
only way to success. "Islam means salvation to each and everyone
who believes in it. To the American so-called Negroes, it is the
master key which opens wide every door locked against them. The
door of universal friendship with the creator and his creatures
swings wide open to you. And the doors of freedom, justice, and
equality. All the believers of Islam are the brothers of the
others." 22 Allah (God) is the author of Islam. In this view Elijah
writes, "we just cannot imagine God being the author of any other
religion but one of peace. Since peace is the very nature of Allah
(God) and peace He seeks for his people and peace is the nature
of the righteous, most surely Islam is the religion of peace. It is
the religion offered to the people to bring about a peace of mind
and contentment after the destroyers of peace with falsehood
have been destroyed." 23

"The prophets of Islam include," insists Elijah, "Noah,
Abraham, Moses, Jesus, Job, David, Solomon, and Jonah. The
people of Islam are the black people and their numbers are made
up of the brown, yellow and red people called races. The Book of
Islam is the Holy Qur-an Sharrieff and the scriptures that were
brought by the above mentioned prophets were of Islam." 24

Islam, as the messenger defines it, is righteousness and it was
the religion of entire submission to the will of Allah (God).
Therefore, since Islam is the only true religion of God, all other
religion directly or indirectly will come to recognize the
supremacy of Islam, the religion created by Allah. Hence, to ac-
cept Islam is to accept God.

To sum up the metaphysical principles of the Black Muslim
political philosophy, one must conclude by saying that Allah is
God and Islam is the religion of God and should be only followed
by the chosen people of Allah, the black man.

The Psychological Bases

The nature of human nature in the Black Muslim's political
philosophy stems from their metaphysical outlook. Allah, like the
Jewish God, Yahweh, has a chosen people. "The original man,
Allah has declared, is none other than the Black man. The Black
man is the first and last, maker and owner of the universe. From
him came all brown, yellow, red and white people. By using a
special method of birth control law, the Black man was able to
produce the white race." 25

Elijah argues that history teaches that "the earth was
populated by the Black nation ever since it was created, but the

2l Ibid., p. 30.

22 Ibid., p. 71.

23 Ibid., p. 68.
24 Ibid.

25 Ibid., p. 53.

153

history of the white race does not take us beyond 6,000 years." 26
Thus, according to Elijah, the Black man was the only man
created by Allah (God). The white man was not created by God,
but by an evil Black scientist, Yakub, and given the right to rule
over Blacks for 6,000 years.

Logically then, Black people are by nature divine, good, kind,
righteous, and God's only creation. The white man, on the other
hand, is by nature evil, sinister, bad, cruel, unjust and limited in
their destiny. They are the savages, beasts, serpents, and devils of
the world. Elijah writes, "Black people are by nature the
righteous. They have love and mercy in their hearts . . . When
they are fully in the knowledge of self, they will do righteousness
and live in peace among themselves." 27 Elijah continues, "Black
people have a heart of Gold, love and mercy. Such a heart, nature
did not give to the white race." 28 Allah (God) then is on the side
of the Black men and Blacks are the chosen people. Although the
whites since they are in power tried to propagate the notion that
they are the chosen people, they never can be because God did not
create them in the Muslim's view. "The white race is not,"
cautions Elijah, "and never will be, the chosen people of Allah
(God). They are the chosen people of their father Yakub, the
devil." 29

The psychological bases of the Black Muslim political
philosophy then is the divine human nature of Black people. The
Black Muslims see the Black man as the embodiment of all that
is good and divine. This is his original nature as opposed to that
of the white man (the devil) who is bad, evil and sinister. Blacks,
in sum, are God's (Allah's) chosen people.

The Tactics and Techniques for the Millennium

What then are the tactics and techniques for restoring the
divine people back in control of the earth and destroying the evil
ones? Elijah gives two, both being connected to each other. The
first tool is for the Black man to learn of himself and his God and
religion. "It is the knowledge of the self that the so-called Negroes
lack which keeps them from enjoying freedom, justice, and
equality." 30 Continuing, Elijah writes that it is Allah's will and
purpose that the Black man shall know themselves. Therefore,
He came Himself to teach us the knowledge of Self . . . Allah has
decided to place us on top with a thorough knowledge of self and
his guidance." 31

Ibid.

2 Ubid., p. 108.

28 Ibid., p. 122.

Ibid., p. 134.

30 1 bid., p. 31.
Ibid.

154

It is written by Elijah that:

We (Blacks) are the mighty, the wise, the best, but we do
not know it. Being without knowledge, we disgrace our-
selves, subjecting ourselves to suffering and shame. We
could not get the knowledge of self until the coming of
Allah. To know thyself is to know all men, as from us
come all and to us all will return. 32

In knowing themselves, Blacks will learn to love themselves
and their kind. "One of the gravest handicaps among the so-
called Negroes is that there is no love for self, nor love for his or
her kind. This not having love for self is the root cause of hate
(dislike), disunity, disagreement, quarrelling, betraying, stool
pigeons, and fighting and killing one another. Hence, the
messenger teaches that "love of self comes first." Once Blacks
began to love themselves, then they can love their kind i.e.,
other Blacks as brothers. Thus, as Blacks learn and under-
stand love of themselves and their kind, they will be more suscep-
tible to the Divine Guidance of Allah.

Moreover, since the purpose and goal of Allah "is the
salvation and freedom of the so-called Negroes from the devil's
power, all Blacks have to do is prepare and await his coming.
The messenger states that Allah (God) "with his infinite wisdom,
knowledge and understanding is going to put the original black
man in his original place as he was at first, the God and ruler of
the universe." 33 Blacks need only await Allah's (God's) arrival.
However, before Allah arrives to redeem his own and restore
them to their rightful place on earth, those Blacks who have
heard the message from Elijah, those who have gained knowledge
of themselves, those who have accepted Islam must make every
effort possible to separate themselves from the devil.

The second tactic then is separation. The Muslim urged
separation so that the tricks and power of the devil will be unable
to further deceive the so-called Negroes. Separation will permit
the good and divinity in Blacks to flourish and come to fruitation.
A nation can be created and Blacks can learn that the art of self
government is the rightful manner. In addition, separation will
enable Allah to see and know immediately those who have heard
and accepted the message.

The words of the messenger is instructive:
... we believe our contributions to this land and the suf-
fering forced upon us by white America justifies our
demand for complete separation in a state or territory of
our own. 34

I am not begging for states. It is immaterial to me. If the
white government of America does not want to give us

Ibid., p. 32.
33 Ibid., p. 107.
Ibid., p. 1610.

155

anything, just let us go. We will make a way. Our God

will make a way for us. 35
Therefore, the Muslims have taken two approaches to the
question of land and separation. They seek as much as possible to
earn enough money to buy such tracts for a state or a group of
states. And in the meantime they try to have as little contact with
whites as possible. To do this, the Muslims have set out on a
program of economic, social and political self-sufficiency. 36

Then on the final day when the Battle of Armageddan com-
mences, ("Armageddan is the final war of Judgement and
separation of the righteous from the wicked") the devil and his
forces shall be destroyed. The white man's time was up in 1917,
but he has been given 70 years of grace, making the day of Allah
to be in the year 1987. The signs, says the messenger, will be given
in the sun, moon, stars, sea and roars of the waves. "There will
not be one city left that will not be leveled to the ground." Once
evil is destroyed and good elevated to its rightful place, the
society of the Hereafter shall emerge.

The Society of the Hereafter

Like all political philosophy, the Muslims posit a new
political society or state. While Martin Luther King, Jr., called
his new society the beloved community and Sir Thomas More,
New Atlantis, and Plato, the Republic, the Muslims have dubbed
theirs the Hereafter.

Elijah writes "The life in the hereafter is only a con-
tinuation of the present life. You will be flesh and blood. You
won't see spooks coming up out of the graves to meet God."

"No already physically dead person will be in the hereafter;
that is a slavery belief." Moreover, Elijah insists that many
Blacks believe the "hereafter is a life of spirits up somewhere in
the sky," but as Allah has taught him, it is here on the earth and
people won't change to any spirit being." 37

As for the nature of the hereafter itself, the messenger writes
that it is a state of existence where "the righteous will make
unlimited progress; peace, job and happiness will have no end.
War will be forgotten; disagreement will have no place ... It will
be the heaven of the righteous forever! No sickness, no hospitals,
no insane asylums, no gambling, no cursing, or swearing will be
seen or heard." Grief, sorrow, misery, woe, all will evaporate.

Politically, the state will be in the hand of completely divine
people. God himself will be among them. This society will be
completely good and divine. Laws nor any governmental struc-
ture is needed for the best would be inhabiting the earth. In the
Hereafter the state, all governmental institutions would truly

Ibid.

Ibid., p. 234. See also any copy of the Muslim Newspaper, Muhammad
Speaks for discussion of this self-sufficiency.
37 Ibid., p. 303-304.

156

wither away or evaporate. The best and divine would need no
other overseer except God Allah who would be one of the
inhabitants of the new society. Hence, any guidance needed by
the inhabitants could be gotten directly by the individual.

The concept of the state in the Black Muslim political
thought then is twofold. During the period of separation, before
the coming of Armageddan, it would resemble a theocracy. A
divinely appointed messenger would oversee and rule the lost
found Black nation. In his own words, he states "I am the first
man since the death of Yakub commissioned by God directly. I
say no more than what Jesus said. He said that he came from
God. I say that I am missioned by God." 38

In this interim state, the word of the messenger would be law
and he who disobeys Elijah would be disobeying Allah and his
desires, and therefore would be dealt with directly by Allah on
the day of Judgement.

In the final state, in the hereafter God would divinely rule
himself with everyone in his kingdom approaching the status of
Angels as defined by modern Christianity. Thus, two kinds of
states a theocracy and a divine monarchy are posited by the
Muslim's theory.

Black Muslim Political Thought and Western
Political Tradition: Some Reflections

The Muslim metaphysical concept is not much different from
the one which appears in the political thought of the Old
Testament. 39 The notion of a vengeful, jealous, and wrathful god
is present. In the Old Testament it was Yahweh, for the Muslims
is Allah. The Jews saw themselves as the chosen people and both
groups are awiting the return or coming of their Gods to right all
the wrongs and evils visited upon them. For the Jews, the enemies
were the outsiders the unchosen infidel of other nations. For
the Black Muslims it is whites the unchosen, the evil created
people.

There is also a good deal of similarity between the
metaphysical outlook of the Black Muslims and Christianity.
Christianity has one god that is jealous and is coming again. The
enemy in Christianity is the unrepented, the sinner. Those will be
the ones destroyed on Judgement Day. The parallels are there.
All are aimed at evil, sin and injustice, they have just different
sources for the same.

In regard to the concept of human nature, there are some
similar parallels. While the Muslims see human nature of the
Black man as being divine and good, that of the whites is con-
sidered to be evil, bad and beastlike. And the only reason that

3S Ibid., p. 171.
Ibid.

157

Black human nature is not prevalent is because it is controlled
and duped by whites who are temporarily in power.

In western political thought Hobbes saw the nature of
human nature as being based, rbil, british, and sinister. Locke
and the others had envisioned human nature to be good,
cooperative, kind and considerate. Martin Luther King, Jr. saw
human nature as being dualistic. Man, in his view, had the
capacity for both good and evil. But a nonviolent approach to an
evil man would rekindle the divine spark in him and bring out
the goodness in his nature. 40 The major difference in the
Muslim's concept of human nature is that it is limited to only one
special kind of man the Black man who is also, in their
view, the original man.

The Black Muslim concept of inevitability has a Marxist ring
to it. When the Muslim indicated that Allah would return and
solve the problems facing Blacks, this was something that would
happen without man. The coming war of Armageddan and the
restoration of the Black man to all his power and glory are
inevitable in the Muslim philosophy. They happen with or
without human interference. Like the Communist Revolution and
Millennium which Marx saw and predicted would take place
with or without man because history moved in a dialectic fashion,
the Muslims are so certain that they have set the exact year in
which the event will occur.

Here again, the major difference and break with other
western political theories is that they predict the inevitable has
an exact time. It is to occur in the year 1987.

And finally on the concept of the state, the Black Muslims
are not without parallel in western political tradition. The divine
right of King's theories are well known. And the divine origin of
the Black people simply replaces one particular group with
another particular group. Instead of one person and his family
being divine, the Muslims see all Blacks as divine. However,
Blacks have to be reawakened to their divinity and until they
know themselves the messenger is the most divine among the
chosen people. And this is why in the state which will exist during
the interim period before Allah arrives Elijah is the major law
giver and ruler of the lost found nation. He is the only one most
aware of his divinity plus he has been divinely commissioned by
Allah as his representative or vicar on earth. Like the kings who
use the divine right theory to bolster their power, Elijah is too
divinely appointed.

Moreover, the theocratic nature of the first Muslim state is
similar to John Calvin's state in Geneva. Calvin's role was indeed
similar to that of the messenger. Both are to lead man to God.

40 Walton, The Political Philosophy of Martin Luther King, Jr., op. cit., pp. 55-

58.

158

The final concept of the state in the Black Muslim thought is
extremely similar to the perfect society of secular writers like
Plato's Republic, Aristotle's Polity and Marx's Communism. On
the other hand, the Muslim's Hereafter resembles also the ec-
clesiastical construction of heaven in that God and the chosen
few will reside happily ever after on earth not in the sky.

Once again the major difference here is that the ultimate per-
fect society in Muslim thought will only have Blacks in it. Sum-
marizing then, one can say that there is much similarity between
the political ideas of the Black Muslims and some of the
philosophical constructs found in the history of western political
thought. The main and chief difference seems to be that Muslim
thought exhalts Blacks over all other groups or races. It is Blacks
who are divine, good, and the original man who is destined to
control the world with Allah.

Concluding then, one must indicate that the Black Muslim
political thought is in reality a political theology in the sense that
their moral vlaues and actions are based on divine revelation and
belief in Allah. 41

In addition, Black Muslim political theology is par-
ticularistic in that it only concerns and focuses upon Black
people, where they are and where they are going. However, many
political ideas in western thought were particularistic. Finally, it
has to be said that the Muslim political ideas are fragmentary
and lacking in systematic order. Their political doctrine lacks
logical coherence and is not at all times completely convincing.
But this too has its parallel in western political thought.

In the final analysis, one could conclude from our evaluation
that the political thought of the Black Muslims is really a
political theology which exhalts Blacks as being divine and God's
chosen people who are destined to run the world in justice,
equality and freedom.

"'Walton, op. cit, pp. 114-117.

159