As the Civil Rights Act turns 60, a call to recommit to what it stands for

|
Henry Griffin/AP/File
Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. (left), of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, and Malcolm X smile for photographers in Washington, March 26, 1964. Several months later, on July 2, the Civil Rights Act became law.
  • Quick Read
  • Deep Read ( 4 Min. )

The Civil Rights Act of 1964, celebrating its 60th anniversary July 2, brought together two of the greatest men of their generation – Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X.

Their presence encapsulated the urgency of the moment and the youthfulness that constitutes dreams. When Dr. King met John F. Kennedy in March of 1962, they spoke of a “second Emancipation Proclamation.” That promise, in some ways, was fulfilled two years later, with the new law.

Why We Wrote This

A story focused on

The landmark Civil Rights Act of 1964, which turns 60 on Tuesday, represents a lineage of legislation that protects against discrimination. Whether that legacy endures depends on us, our columnist writes.

We are here now, in a maelstrom of court cases and ideological wars that are chipping away at the values and rights we hold so dear. But this has always been the case. The promises of the Civil Rights Act were the promises of Reconstruction – being protected from discrimination, and voting without inhibition or intimidation, among other essential freedoms.  

We should approach these battles as Malcolm X did – by throwing ourselves into the heart of the struggle. Civil rights, quite simply, are the fulfillment of our independence: life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Denying them is to deny America itself. 

I would contend that a recommitment to civil rights, 60 years later, would be relief and refuge for us all. 

The Civil Rights Act of 1964 turns 60 on Tuesday. Its birthday is important because it is a living piece of legislation and a predecessor for laws impacting women’s and LGBTQ+ rights. 

I can’t help but think about this momentous act and its unifying power and be reminded of the time it brought together two of the greatest men of their generation – Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X.

Their presence encapsulated the urgency of the moment, and the youthfulness that constitutes dreams. And yet, it is hard to see a piece of paper turn 60 while these two men were assassinated just before their 40th birthdays. Their blood, like President John F. Kennedy’s, is proverbially mingled in with the ink that codified antidiscrimination rulings and secured voting protections for Black people. When Dr. King met Mr. Kennedy in March of 1962, they spoke of a “second Emancipation Proclamation.” That promise, in some ways, was fulfilled two years later, though Dr. King’s heartbreaking words from 1968 still endure: “I might not get there with you.”

Why We Wrote This

A story focused on

The landmark Civil Rights Act of 1964, which turns 60 on Tuesday, represents a lineage of legislation that protects against discrimination. Whether that legacy endures depends on us, our columnist writes.

We are here now, in a maelstrom of court cases and ideological wars that are chipping away at the values and rights we hold so dear. But this has always been the case. The promises of the Civil Rights Act were the promises of Reconstruction – being protected from discrimination, and voting without inhibition or intimidation, among other essential freedoms. The Civil Rights Act of 1957 was the first federal civil rights legislation since the law of the same name in 1875. The Brown v. Board of Education decision, which began with a handful of concerned parents from South Carolina, initiated a series of laws that yielded the landmark civil rights legislation of 1964.

Susan Walsh/AP
People associated with the historic U.S. Supreme Court decision Brown v. Board of Education listen as others speak to reporters at the White House in Washington, May 16, 2024. Plaintiffs and their family members met with President Joe Biden to mark the 70th anniversary of the Supreme Court decision.

Black activists embraced the urgency of civil rights, which means they represented the best of America. Where even officials such as President Dwight Eisenhower were initially hesitant to push forward on the issue, Malcolm X’s words ring out: “I’m throwing myself into the heart of the civil rights struggle.”

While Malcolm was skeptical of the legislation – he was concerned it would belie how Black folks were treated in America – he was intentional about his fight for freedom. Aside from forming the Organization of Afro-American Unity that same year, he wanted to shift the conversation from “civil rights” to “human rights,” which raised the profile from a domestic viewpoint to an international perspective.

Despite deliberation among advocates, or filibustering from opposing senators, The Civil Rights Act persevered. It wasn’t just a triumph of Dr. King, or Malcolm X, or “Black Cabinet” influencers such as Mary McLeod Bethune. It was a victory for the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, and activists such as Ella Baker and Stokely Carmichael, who later changed his name to Kwame Ture. It was a victory for past generations of freedom fighters, who witnessed emancipation from chattel slavery, however delayed, only to watch the rise of Jim Crow.

History, for its stories of triumph over oppression, also denotes a cruel reality – those oppressive forces never relent. Even today, the irony of book bans and the dismissal of African American studies in states such as South Carolina is that such restrictive measures are made in the name of “freedom.” But how is it liberating to withhold the stories and legacies of those who fought for a better world?

J. Scott Applewhite/AP/File
Rep. Terri Sewell of Alabama (center), flanked by fellow Democrats Steve Cohen of Tennessee (left) and House Judiciary Committee Chairman Jerrold Nadler of New York (right), talks to reporters about the need for the Voting Rights Advancement Act of 2019, at the Capitol in Washington, June 25, 2019.

This is what we are up against in the present hour. Less than a week ago, U.S. Representative Terri Sewell, a Democrat from Alabama, lamented the Supreme Court’s gutting of the Voting Rights Act in the 2013 Shelby County v. Holder decision. A press release from Representative Sewell’s office notes this harrowing fact from The Brennan Center For Justice: At least 31 states have passed 103 restrictive voting laws since the Shelby decision.

The Civil Rights Act of 1964, along with the Voting Rights Act of the subsequent year, are perhaps the two most important legislative flashpoints of the time period, and in this country’s civil rights history. Conversations about their legacy should include champions as well as opponents. Our failure to tell these stories with accuracy and regularity are part of the reason why battles over fundamental rights wage on.

We should approach them as Malcolm X did – by throwing ourselves into the heart of the struggle. Civil rights, quite simply, are the fulfillment of our independence: life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Denying them is to deny America itself. 

According to the Martin Luther King, Jr. Research and Education Institute, when the civil rights bill passed the Senate in 1964, “King hailed it as one that would ‘bring practical relief to the Negro in the South, and will give the Negro in the North a psychological boost that he sorely needs.’” 

I would contend that a recommitment to civil rights, 60 years later, would be relief and refuge for us all.

You've read  of  free articles. Subscribe to continue.
Real news can be honest, hopeful, credible, constructive.
What is the Monitor difference? Tackling the tough headlines – with humanity. Listening to sources – with respect. Seeing the story that others are missing by reporting what so often gets overlooked: the values that connect us. That’s Monitor reporting – news that changes how you see the world.

Give us your feedback

We want to hear, did we miss an angle we should have covered? Should we come back to this topic? Or just give us a rating for this story. We want to hear from you.

 

Dear Reader,

About a year ago, I happened upon this statement about the Monitor in the Harvard Business Review – under the charming heading of “do things that don’t interest you”:

“Many things that end up” being meaningful, writes social scientist Joseph Grenny, “have come from conference workshops, articles, or online videos that began as a chore and ended with an insight. My work in Kenya, for example, was heavily influenced by a Christian Science Monitor article I had forced myself to read 10 years earlier. Sometimes, we call things ‘boring’ simply because they lie outside the box we are currently in.”

If you were to come up with a punchline to a joke about the Monitor, that would probably be it. We’re seen as being global, fair, insightful, and perhaps a bit too earnest. We’re the bran muffin of journalism.

But you know what? We change lives. And I’m going to argue that we change lives precisely because we force open that too-small box that most human beings think they live in.

The Monitor is a peculiar little publication that’s hard for the world to figure out. We’re run by a church, but we’re not only for church members and we’re not about converting people. We’re known as being fair even as the world becomes as polarized as at any time since the newspaper’s founding in 1908.

We have a mission beyond circulation, we want to bridge divides. We’re about kicking down the door of thought everywhere and saying, “You are bigger and more capable than you realize. And we can prove it.”

If you’re looking for bran muffin journalism, you can subscribe to the Monitor for $15. You’ll get the Monitor Weekly magazine, the Monitor Daily email, and unlimited access to CSMonitor.com.

QR Code to As the Civil Rights Act turns 60, a call to recommit to what it stands for
Read this article in
https://www.csmonitor.com/Commentary/2024/0702/landmark-civil-rights-act-60th-anniversary-martin-luther-king-jr
QR Code to Subscription page
Start your subscription today
https://www.csmonitor.com/subscribe