The Ghosts of Appomattox
The promise of "Our Nation Reunited" is not yet ful
Note: I am re-hosting some of my previous work from another blog. These are my reflections on the history of Appomattox and how we are not yet where those who fought to end the Civil War thought we would be.
April 9, 2022
As I was driving to and from Richmond on Thursday afternoon, I drove through Appomattox County, just about a half-hour from where we live. The signs greeting me as I crossed the county line, and the realization that the 157th anniversary of the end of the Civil War was approaching on April 9th, brought back memories of two trips I took to Appomattox County a couple of years apart.
Before the start of the 2014-15 academic year at Liberty University, the Helms School of Government held a social event at the Museum of the Confederacy in Appomattox, reserving it for the evening so the faculty and staff and their families could gather, enjoy a potluck dinner, and tour the museum afterward. The museum staff entertained us with musket firings, games, and marching demonstrations, and answered questions about the many exhibits.
As the only black faculty or staff member at the time, I suppose I could have politely declined, but these were my friends and colleagues, and we had not had a gathering like this since my family and I first arrived at Liberty University in 2011. I looked forward to the food and fellowship and figured I would tolerate the rest of it. Although I love history, I figured that a museum in Appomattox, Virginia dedicated to the Confederate States of America might present a different perspective on the Civil War than the one I had come to believe.
I was pleasantly surprised, however, by the objectivity and balance of the exhibits and the narratives accompanying them, and the accounts presented in the words of those who lived during those times were particularly moving. The exhibits end with a display recognizing the 1960s civil rights movement and offering a poignant acknowledgment that we are still dealing with the central issues of the Civil War in our current time and have yet to truly close the chapter on a terrible and defining moment in our nation’s history.
I sought out the education director of the museum afterward to tell her how impressed I was with their exhibits and the even-handed way in which they handled a sensitive and controversial topic. She said they are educators and historians first and foremost, and they strive to let the events speak for themselves, leaving the patrons of the museum to draw their own conclusions. I told my boss during and after the tour how much I appreciated their approach, and he was relieved because he had some reservations about how comfortable I might be in such a place. Knowing that he was concerned made me feel valued, and an evening I approached with some trepidation turned out well.
Not long after that, the nation celebrated the Civil War Sesquicentennial, the commemoration of that conflict’s 150th anniversary. Appomattox County actively promoted the sesquicentennial, proclaiming the county and city as the place “Where our Nation Reunited.” Those very words adorn the signs that greeted me on my drive to and from Richmond last Thursday.
Fast forward to the summer of 2016, when I went to Appomattox Court House National Historical Park with my wife and parents-in-law, who were visiting from France. The park sits a short driving distance from the town of Appomattox, and across from the fields where the armies led by Generals Lee and Grant clashed for the last time. As I watched the brief historical account of that time and toured the grounds, I was struck by a feeling of melancholy, not unlike what I had felt while touring the Museum of the Confederacy, just a stone’s throw from the park, back in 2014.
As I viewed the McLean House and gazed upon the room where General Grant drafted the generous terms of surrender that General Lee accepted, I thought back to the gravity of that moment, and it saddened me.
By the time the Civil War was officially declared over by President Andrew Johnson on August 20, 1866, over 678,000 dead and over 469,000 wounded lay in its wake. Families were decimated, cities and towns destroyed, farmlands torched – the nation paid a heavy price for its inability to reconcile the vile practice of chattel slavery with its creed that “all men are created equal.” I was struck by the magnanimity, as described during the tour, of General Grant and his soldiers toward their defeated foes. It was clear that they were doing their best to carry out President Lincoln’s promise of “malice toward none, with charity for all.”
Five days after the surrender at Appomattox, however, the architect of this gracious peace was gunned down at Ford’s Theater in Washington, DC by a deranged Confederate sympathizer, and the goodwill he had hoped to engender was shattered. Everything that followed those fateful days of the surrender and the assassination – Reconstruction, the reign of terror for blacks that followed, especially in the South, the civil rights movement of the late 20th century, and the racial conflicts of today are all byproducts of that fateful moment in history.
As we stand right now, I cannot help but ask why, after such incredible sacrifices, we are still struggling with the issue of race in America. The Gallup Poll has tracked race relations in America since 2001, and the question they pose is:
Would you say relations between White and Black people are very good, somewhat good, somewhat bad or very bad?
In 2001, 70 percent of Black adults and 62 percent of White adults thought relations between White and Black people were “very good” or “somewhat good,” and in 2002, they were separated by only two percentage points, with whites becoming more positive (70 percent) and blacks only a little less so (68 percent). The largest gap was in 2007 when 75 percent of White adults and 55 percent of Black adults thought Black/White relations were very or somewhat good. Since then, the trends for both groups over the two decades-plus of polling on the topic have been mostly downward, and in 2021, only 43 percent of White adults and 33 percent of Black adults would say Black/White relations were very or somewhat good.
In response to a 2022 Gallup poll asking American adults to rate their satisfaction with the state of race relations, 68% are either very or somewhat dissatisfied with the state of race relations, and 53% are dissatisfied with the position of racial minority groups. Other polls reflect the same racial tensions, and our leaders and influencers in politics, business, academia, the arts, and more disagree on the answer to the problem, or whether there is a problem at all.
This modern-day surge of racial tension compels us to confront racial division once and for all, lest our national cohesion evaporates altogether. However, the will to do so is practically non-existent, mainly because our divisions are numerous and deep. A Pew Research Center poll of 17 nations in Europe, Asia, and North America revealed that Americans are more divided on a wider range of issues than any other nation surveyed. Perhaps more ominously, another Pew Research poll prior to the 2020 presidential election revealed the depth and breadth of the differences between us:
A month before the election, roughly eight-in-ten registered voters in both camps said their differences with the other side were about core American values, and roughly nine-in-ten – again in both camps – worried that a victory by the other would lead to “lasting harm” to the United States.
We are so divided that words like “secession” and “civil war” have been published in credible periodicals and spoken out loud in public. We are literally sorting ourselves into insular communities where everyone believes and behaves as we do, and we don’t talk to or respect people who think and act differently from us. Small wonder that we don’t trust each other - we don’t know each other, nor do we care to know each other. In this kind of climate, what chance does any individual or institution have of bringing a resolution to the most enduring, intractable, and tempestuous divide in American history, the chasm between Black and White Americans?
I’ve made it clear in the past where I think the answer lies - the church. Many will disagree with me, and they have good reason to do so because the church throughout history and into the present day has far too often been either silent in the face of racial strife or complicit in it. Black and White Christians don’t even see eye to eye on the topic of race, and they are largely a reflection of the society we live in.
Unlike the rest of society, however, the church has one belief in common - the Lordship of Jesus Christ. I have seen people from different walks of life who would never have sought each other out on their own become as close as brothers because of Jesus Christ. I have witnessed political and cultural adversaries become lifelong friends because of Jesus Christ. I have surrendered beliefs about the world that I’ve held for most of my life and watched my circle of friends and associates grow across every conceivable divide because of Jesus Christ.
Is Jesus Christ first in your life, so much so that you would do anything He asks of you? Will you deny yourself, pick up your cross, and follow Him? Will you love your neighbor as yourself, as He commands?
If we can get the answers to those questions right, we can finally lay the ghosts of Appomattox to rest and make a “Nation Reunited” a reality.