In the aftermath of yet another mass murder of children at an elementary school in Uvalde, Texas, the gun debate is front and center once again. I commented on it in a video here and added a few more thoughts underneath.
I was asked about the US gun culture and its history by a friend in the UK and I thought it worthwhile re-publishing this post from 2017 about Roxanne Dunbar Ortiz's book, Loaded. I have not yet read this book but am familiar with her work focusing on Indigenous history in the United States. In the light of the massacre in Texas I think it will be useful to read this book.
Here are the first few pages of a chapter from the
book, Loaded: A Disarming History of the Second Amendment. The chapter is on
Missouri Confederate guerrillas. In this short excerpt Ms Ortiz destroys a few favorite myths propagated by popular culture and the mass media about guns and the aftermath of the Civil War. It looks like a must read for those of us intent on unlearning official history. RM
Here is one critic's review:
"Gun violence, Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz compellingly shows, is as U.S.
American as apple pie. This important book peels back the painful and
bloody layers of gun culture in the United States, and exposes their
deep roots in the killing and dispossession of Native peoples, slavery
and its aftermath, and U.S. empire-making. They are roots with which all
who are concerned with matters of justice, basic decency, and the
enduring tragedy of the U.S. love affair with guns must grapple."—Joseph
Nevins, author of Dying to Live: A Story of U.S. Immigration in an Age of Global Apartheid
Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz, Loaded: A Disarming History of the
Second Amendment. San Francisco: City Light Publishers, January 2018. *
CONFEDERATE GUERRILLAS TO OUTLAW ICONS
I grew up in rural Oklahoma. Both my parents were born in
western Missouri. My father, besides being a tenant farmer and rodeo man, was
an actual proletarian cowboy who worked on a large cattle ranch in Oklahoma
mending fences and herding cattle long distances before he married my mother.
In this world, stories of “Robin Hood” outlaw heroes were
pervasive. These included the James Gang, Jesse and Frank; and the Younger
Brothers, Cole, Jim, John and Bob, Belle Starr—dubbed the “Bandit Queen”—my
female role model. I was, thanks to my mother, a devout Southern Baptist; yet
it didn’t seem contradictory that these bandits broke nearly all the Ten
Commandments, because they stole from the rich and gave to the poor, or so it
was said. Not until I moved to San Francisco when I was twenty-one and took a
college course in U.S. West History did I learn that all my heroes had been
Confederate Guerrillas, associated with William Quantrill’s Rangers. They all
came from middle-class families who bought, sold, and worked enslaved Africans,
and who were devoted to the Confederacy, that is, the preservation of chattel
slavery. This came as a shock, because by that time, I had for the previous
four years taken sides in favor of the Civil Rights movement and despised
racism, the main reason I left Oklahoma as soon as I could. I’ve been trying to
figure out this disconnect ever since. But I do know that border-outlaw
narratives have played a role in gun fetishism and a culture of violence and
racism in the United States.
I was not alone in buying into the myths about these
outlaws. Even in San Francisco, New York City, and beyond, during the folk
music revival of the late 1950s, Woody Guthrie’s 1939 recording of the 1882
traditional song extolling Jesse James was revived and made the pop charts:
Oh, they laid poor Jesse in his grave, yes, Lord They laid Jesse James in his
grave
Oh, he took from the rich and he gave to the poor But, they laid Jesse James in
his grave
Pete Seeger recorded the song in 1957, followed by Eddy Arnold in 1959, the
Kingston Trio in 1961, and in the 1970s, it made the charts again recorded by
the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band as well as by Bob Seger; even The Pogues as well as
Bruce Springsteen got in the act in the mid-1980s. It was recorded by dozens of
other lesser known folk, pop, and country musicians.
And, there was a larger theme of sympathy for the slave
South’s “Lost Cause” in the 1960s counter-culture. The Band first recorded “The
Night They Drove Old Dixie Down,” with lyrics by Robbie Robertson,77 in 1969,
when they were closely associated with Bob Dylan, topping the charts in several
categories; Joan Baez recorded it in 1971, with the same result, as did Johnny
Cash in 1975. Liberal San Francisco music critic Ralph J. Gleason waxed
eloquently on The Band’s recording: “Nothing I have read ... has brought home
the overwhelming human sense of history that this song does...It’s a remarkable
song, the rhythmic structure, the voice of Levon [Helms] and the bass line with
the drum accents and then the heavy close harmony of Levon, Richard and Rick in
the theme, make it seem impossible that this isn’t some traditional material
handed down from father to son straight from that winter of 1865 to today. It
has that ring of truth and the whole aura of authenticity.”
Virgil Kane is the name...
Back with my wife in Tennessee
When one day she called to me “Virgil, quick, come see,
There goes Robert E. Lee!”
Now, I don’t mind chopping wood And I don’t care if the money’s no good You
take what you need
And you leave the rest
But they should never have taken the very best
The night they drove old Dixie down And the bells were ringing
The night they drove old Dixie down And all the people were singing
This was a post-World War II composition mourning the
Confederate defeat in the Civil War, written by Robbie Robertson, also a member
of The Band and one of the most celebrated of the many musicians, writers, and
producers coming out of the 1960s. He is also Mohawk, his mother from the Six
Nations Reserve outside Toronto, Canada, his father Jewish. Not having grown up
in the United States, Robertson likely had very little knowledge of the Civil
War, but Joan Baez did and was a pacifist and an icon of the African-American
Civil Rights Movement of the time. It seems that the sanitized lore that views
bloody, murdering, Confederate guerrillas as righteous outlaws continues to be
deeply ingrained in United States culture.
And, it wasn’t just the music counterculture, but also
mainstream pop culture. True Grit, a best-selling 1968 novel by Charles Portis,
also serialized in the popular mass-distributed magazine The Saturday Evening
Post, was made into a blockbuster movie in 1969, featuring John Wayne as the
fictional Rooster Cogburn, former Confederate guerrilla with Quantrill. John
Wayne won the Academy Award for best acting the role as the good-hearted
drunken antihero who proves himself a true hero. Ethan and Joel Cohen did a
2010 duplicate remake of the film for the new generation starring Jeff Bridges
in the John Wayne role, accompanied by a new edition of the novel with an
afterword by bestselling author Donna Tartt, which reached number one on The
New York Times bestseller list.
The 1976 film, Outlaw Josey Wales, directed by Clint
Eastwood, the script by Forrest Carter adapted from his 1972 novel, The Rebel
Outlaw: Josey Wales, featured a Missouri Confederate guerrilla played by Clint
Eastwood, based on the true story of Bill Wilson, a folk hero in the Ozarks.
After Union troops murder his wife and child, Wales refuses to surrender at the
end of the war, seeks revenge, and guns down the Union man that killed his
family. He then flees to Texas with a bounty on his head. In the film, Josey
Wales expresses his world view: “Now remember, things look bad and it looks
like you’re not gonna make it, then you gotta get mean. I mean plumb, mad-dog
mean. Cause if you lose your head and give up then you neither live nor win.
That’s just the way it is.”
Forrest Carter, who wrote the script for Outlaw Josey Wales,
is the pen name of Asa Earl Carter (1925-1975) who was a leader in the Ku Klux
Klan in the 1950s and a speech writer for the segregationist Alabama governor
George Wallace in the 1960s. He changed his name and successfully turned to
writing, first the Josey Wales book, then in 1976 what claimed to be a memoir,
The Education of Little Tree. The story is told by an orphaned boy of five
years old, being raised by Cherokee grandparents who called him “Little Tree,”
with stereotypical noble savage actions and settings, perfect for the growing
“New Age” appropriation and distortion of Native ways. At the book’s release,
The New York Times published an article outing Forrest Carter as Asa Carter,
former Klansman. It was not a big secret, as Carter had run for governor of
Alabama in 1970. The article reported, “Beyond denying that he is Asa Carter,
the author has declined to be interviewed on the subject.”
Carter died at age 53 in 1979, beat to death in a fight with
his son. His literary fame faded. There had been no questioning of Carter’s
claim of Cherokee identity until the University of New Mexico Press bought the
rights to The Education of Little Tree in 1985, and published it as non-fiction
in 1991. The book took off and became the number one best seller on The New
York Times best-seller list and won the American Booksellers Book of the Year
award, and became a much loved book. The Cherokee Nation denied that Carter was
Cherokee, and Carter’s Ku Klux Klan background was once again revealed, leading
the Times to shift the book to its fiction list. Despite calls from the Native
American academic community and the Cherokee Nation that the University of New
Mexico Press withdraw the book from publication, instead they changed the
cover, removing the “True Story” subtitle and reclassified it as fiction, but
the biographical profile did not change to include Carter’s Klan activities and
the lack of evidence of his being Cherokee; it remains one of their bestselling
books. Oprah Winfrey had endorsed the book when it was published, but removed
it from her recommendations in 1994.
Clint Eastwood, directing The Outlaw Josey Wales, featured
several stereotypical Native American characters, written by Carter, and
performed by excellent Native American actors, Geraldine Keams as a love
interest, the elderly Chief Dan George as his spirit guide, and Will Sampson as
a protector. In the script, there is no mention of slavery even though Wales
was a Confederate guerrilla who rejected the Confederate defeat.
Two other widely viewed films—Bonnie and Clyde and Pat Garret and Billy the
Kid—glorified gun violence of real-life outlaws who were not Confederate
guerrillas, but have contributed to those narratives being folded into ones of
the Wild West even though Bonnie and Clyde were bandits in the Great Depression
era, and Billie the Kid’s short life ended in 1882. With Bonnie and Clyde,
Arthur Penn broke through to mainstream box office triumph and was embraced by
the counterculture of 1967 at the same time. The film was noted for the
bloodiest scenes in film history, and starred Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway.
Sam Peckinpah’s 1973 film, Pat Garret and Billy the Kid, featured the popular
musician and songwriter, Kris Kristofferson as the Kid, and a memorable
soundtrack by Bob Dylan, who also played a cameo role.
How did it happen that popular culture transformed
Confederate guerrillas into celebrity Western gunfighters, merging them with
actual Western gunfighters, and what has this phenomenon contributed to the
culture of violence, racism, and gun love in the United States?
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