The New Iconoclasm: Down With Jefferson, Up With Sharpton
Rarely a week passes without dramatic pictures on TV and in the press of sledgehammers taken to heroes of the Old Confederacy, along with new “replacement” sculpture and statuary to Black Lives Matter (like the formidable slab within full view of the White House itself) and already on the list of Places to See in Washington, DC. We will, no doubt, soon see statues of Rev. Al Sharpton alongside of, or even replacing, those of Martin Luther King, Jr. The Reverend Sharpton is the titular and also unchallenged leader of Black Lives Matter, now turning the country upside down to express its indignation over the murder in Minneapolis and its (supposed) epitome of police brutality towards black Americans.
The Rev. Sharpton was a constant presence in the White House during the presidency of Barack Obama, and has been treated with oily sycophancy by every major Democratic candidate for that party’s nomination. (When Sharpton’s acolytes in Black Lives Matter shouted down Bernie Sanders at a Seattle rally, the candidate reacted with instant compliance, and surrendered the microphone to them.) He has taught leading Democrats, at nearly all levels of the party, to view crime as a problem of prejudiced and brutal police, not of ruthless and pitiless criminals.
Do Americans know much about Sharpton, the unquestioned leader of Black Lives Matter, an organization now carrying all before it, including governors of states and mayors of cities? He first came to prominence for his central role in the assaults on Jews in 1991 in the Crown Heights section of Brooklyn. It has been called by historian Edward Shapiro “the only antisemitic riot in American history.” This has not prevented Senator Elizabeth Warren from calling Sharpton a paragon who has “dedicated his life to the fight for justice for all” or ex-candidate Kamala Harris from exuding about how much he “has done … for our country.” And so on ad infinitum, ad nauseam.
How different are these Democrats from the ones we once knew! I recall how, as a young boy, I went every four years to the polling booths of Brooklyn where my parents voted for Roosevelt while I stood nearby, distributing FDR leaflets. How different are the current crop from the late Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan, who excoriated Sharpton’s thugs in 1991 as a “lynch mob” identical to the white unionists who had assaulted blacks in Detroit for “stealing” their jobs. That same Sharpton is today the darling of progressive America, Moynihan a distant memory.
Nazi Headstones and Confederate Statues Should Be Treated the Same
Now, you might object that one cannot in decency compare the officers and soldiers of the Confederacy with the external enemy that was Nazi Germany. After all, many leading Confederates, including Braxton Bragg, for whom the famous base in North Carolina is named, and Jefferson Davis, the president of the Confederacy, were honored veterans of the Mexican-American war of 1846-48, and considered to be great and sage patriots. The Civil War they helped initiate a little more than a decade later was not the result of outside aggression, according to this argument, but a tragic conflict within the American family that politics alone was not able to resolve.How an old Yiddish song became a symbol of racial equality
This interpretation of history is one of the factors behind Trump’s vocal rejection of the removal of Confederate memorials. It might seem patriotic, but in reality, it isn’t — not least because the values and the vision of American society that the Confederacy represented had eventually to be defeated on the battlefield at what was, especially by the standards of that time, a staggering human cost.
In institutional terms, some current signs can be seen of a move against the commemoration of the Confederacy. Defense Secretary Mark Esper has mooted a “bipartisan discussion” on the renaming of military bases, while the US Navy has outlawed the display of Confederate flags aboard its ships and in other facilities. But as the Jewish experience reminds us only too well, changes in institutional behavior aren’t necessarily mirrored in public opinion. Especially with Trump in the White House, the segment of opinion that twists its perverse regard for the Confederacy into an American value will continue to assert itself aggressively.
The only response to this misrepresentation is to point to the historical record. “These bases are, after all, federal installations, home to soldiers who swear an oath to support and defend the Constitution of the United States,” the former head of the CIA, Gen. David Petraeus, wrote recently in The Atlantic. “The irony of training at bases named for those who took up arms against the United States, and for the right to enslave others, is inescapable to anyone paying attention.”
If we are no longer prepared to tolerate Nazi symbols as an ongoing presence in our military cemeteries, then we should treat the symbols of the Confederate betrayal of the United States in a similar manner.
"Eli, Eli" is a Yiddish song composed by Jacob Koppel Sandler in 1896 that describes the plight of a Jewish girl singing a song of despair while being crucified for her faith. In the following decades, it was adopted by African-American artists and singers who were drawn to the tragic melody and images of oppression that its lyrics evoked.
Sandler drew the song's lyrics from King David's lamentation in the Book of Pslams (22:2): “Eli, Eli, why hast Thou forsaken me?” This phrase appears twice in the New Testament, while one of the instances marks Jesus’ last words as he’s crucified. This exclamation of despair is thus recognized and revered by both Christians and Jews.
A portion of the song says:
"In fire and flame have men been tortured
And everywhere we went we were shamed and ridiculed
No one could make us turn away from our faith
From you, my god, from your holy Torah, your law!"
People have always been drawn to music; some might even say that as human beings, we are hard-wired to respond to music. It has the power to change our moods, stimulate our senses and bring back memories. Music can provoke many things within us, including strong negative emotions at times.
Sandler's composition was adopted by various Jewish artists and slowly gained popularity, but it wasn't until black Jewish musician Willie “The Lion” Smith covered the song in the 1920s that it became a widespread phenomenon and a shared symbol for Jewish and African-American jazz singers.
Shortly after Smith's cover, George Dewey Washington published a version of his own, followed by actress and singer Ethel Waters who said that the song "tells the tragic history of the Jews as much as one song can," while noting that "that history of their age-old grief and despair is so similar to that of my own people that I felt I was telling the story of my own race, too.”
The song did not lose its popularity over the years, with a rendition of the original song being performed by iconic Black jazz musician Lionel Hampton in 1951.














