Black Boss: Political Revolution in a Georgia County

By Lawrence J. Hanks

Vol. 5, No. 1, 1983, pp. 16-18

Black Boss: Political Revolution in a Georgia County. John Rozier. The University of Georgia Press, 1982.

John Rozier’s Black Boss is a narrative of John McCown of Hancock County, Georgia and the political revolution that most observers felt reached fruition in 1968, the year that blacks became the majority of members of the county commission. Rozier, a Hancock native, deserves to be commended for bringing the county to the attention of scholars as well as a general audience. It has been fourteen years since blacks ascended to political power, yet the political science journals have yet to publish any analysis of the political changes in Hancock. Thus, Black Boss breaks new ground.

On leave from his post as Public Information Services director at Emory University, Rozier manages to do a thorough job of research. He interviewed numerous black and white Hancock citizens; he combed through the newspapers that covered the stories; he searched the files of the Georgia Council on Human Relations; and he examined the transcripts from the pretrial hearings and other documents relating to the trials that were held. Rozier had sufficient information to give his readers a balanced story of John McCown and the political revolution in Hancock. The book’s strength is its wealth of material.

Unfortunately, there is a serious problem with Black Boss. The book has a blatant bias against McCown that permeates the work and inhibits the author’s ability to view the political, social, and economic dynamics. While Rozier concentrates solely on the character of McCown, the changes that McCown stirred to life are more important historically than the man himself.

Although Rozier acknowledges the “widely varying views” concerning McCown in his preface, he proceeds to use the negative appraisals of him as the central focus of the book. He never acknowledges, perhaps he does not realize, that he is telling one side of an extremely controversial story. McCown, with his charismatic, unorthodox, and noncompromising style, came to Hancock in 1966 as a seasoned civil rights activist. He led the first civil rights march in Colorado Springs, Colorado, protesting the injustices in the armed forces. He later worked with CORE, SNCC, and the Office of Economic Opportunity (OEO) in Savannah. While affiliated with SCLC in Atlanta, he saw the potential for black political empowerment in Hancock and decided to move himself and his family there. His childhood in Loris, South Carolina, and his adolescence in Harlem taught him that only the bold, aggressive, and self-assured survived. These qualities became an integral part of his personality.

Hancock County was fertile soil for McCown to test his theory of black self-help through political participation. A devout believer in democratic theory, he emphasized the accountability of elected officials to their constituents. Moreover, he felt that political power and economic power were flip sides of the same coin–one could not expect to make changes in either of these areas without simultaneously working in both arenas. He took this message to homes, bars, street corners, and churches. Armed with charisma and expertise in federal regulations, McCown won the confidence of many Hancock blacks by showing them that white county officials could be successfully challenged when they denied blacks benefits that they were entitled to receive. One person could make a difference. Moreover, that one person, when organized with others, could make substantial changes. This is the legacy of McCown which Rozier totally neglects.

McCown organized the Eastern Central Committee for Opportunity (ECCO), a community development corporation, in 1970. By 1974, after having received approximately 5.5 million in private and federal aid, ECCO had established itself as the center of economic development in Hancock County. Blacks held every elective or appointive position in the county except sheriff and tax commissioner. In their attempt to salvage whatever political power they could, segments of the white community appear to have participated in many activities that Rozier chose to ignore or treat lightly: “white flight” into Sparta and gerrymandering were two methods used to maintain white political dominance; the Klan demonstrated on the eve of the 1966 election; the broodstock at the ECCO fish farm was mysteriously poisoned; the concrete block plant was vandalized; there was a white boycott of ECCO fish farm products; death threats were directed towards McCown and other black elected officials; the harassment of ECCO employees by law enforcement officers was commonplace; the ECCO threatre was burned; and, IRS and FBI agents were illegally used to gather information for the federal grand jury. Moreover, the white communities in neighboring counties gave assistance in trying to thwart the movement: they supplied political contributions; black drivers from Hancock were routinely cited for violations while passing through; and on at least one occasion, a group of “night riders” entered the county to pay the ECCO headquarters a visit.

Much of this white reaction was due to the considerable amount of political and economic power that the black community was gaining. Until the school desegregation squabbles of 1969 and 1970, a small portion of the white community supported ECCO. After the attempts to desegregate the school however, even this support disappeared. The battle lines were drawn–the white community was determined to get rid of ECCO and McCown, while most blacks were determined to protect both. A good number of citizens, both black and white, carried guns at all times. For the remainder of the McCown Era, there would be at least two versions to practically everything that happened.

After almost four years of concerted effort to discredit ECCO and McCown, events began to favor those opposed to ECCO. The Atlanta Constitution ran a series of

---

Page 17

articles (June 30, 1974 – July 4, 1974) which seriously questioned the legitimacy of McCown and the ECCO enterprises; this series had been preceded by a similar series in the Macon Telegraph. These two series, combined with years of letter writing and public pressure for an external audit of ECCO, prompted the Washington office of OEO to conduct the long desired audit. On July 24, 1974 Senator Nunn’s office issued a press release stating that the General Accounting Office had briefed Senator Nunn telling him that “their initial report indicates that the OEO external audit will show substantial discrepancies.” As a result, a federal grand jury investigation of McCown and ECCO was initiated, contributions came to a halt, and after eighteen months of a federal grand jury investigation–five guilty pleas to fraudulent use of federal poverty funds ended the economic phase of the political movement in Hancock. The man that Hancock whites wanted to convict most, John McCown, was killed in a plane crash in January 1976. Thus, the “McCown Era” ended with both sides unsatisfied. The anti-McCown group had wanted McCown to stand trial while the pro-McCown group felt that they had no alternative to pleading guilty.

In Black Boss, Rozier has shaped his first two chapters, “Hancock County” and “John McCown,” in a manner which prejudices readers thinking about the political movement in Hancock. First Hancock is portrayed as an unlikely place for a political revolution: Hancock’s early leaders were Whigs and Unionists who opposed succession although they favored slavery; slaveholders treated their slaves well; the county had no record of lynchings; blacks could buy land more easily and they led the state in the number of black farm owners; and, “Hancock was noted for good race relations until the troubles of the 1960’s.” Then in chapter two, McCown is portrayed as a moral degenerate accused of a wide variety of acts: lying, stealing, “shacking up” with a German woman, having bad credit, contributing to the delinquency of minors, and rape. The picture has been painted clearly: an immoral degenerate comes to peaceful, idyllic, racially harmonious Hancock County and upsets the balance. In both instances, Rozier overstates the case.

Although race relations in Hancock were reputed to be relatively good, the credit for this state of affairs should not be contributed entirely to the good will of whites. With an overwhelming black population, blacks in Hancock have a history of assertion. Although the historical antecedent is obscure, present day blacks in Hancock recount many stories about blacks from slavery to the present who challenged the authority of whites, demanded respect, and fought in the defense of rights. Conditions were not as peaceful as Rozier would have us believe.

Rozier’s attempt to point out McCown’s alleged moral weaknesses point to a major weakness in the book–the trustworthiness of anonymous sources. Moreover, much of the nonflattering information about McCown, e.g., his speeding tickets, his “shacking up” are simply nongermane to his role in the movement towards black politcal and economic empowerment in Hancock. In his attempt to cast a negative shadow on McCown and the political revolution in Hancock, Rozier undermines the conclusions he reaches by his willingness to raise gossip to the status of fact. Although McCown was posthumously indicted, of course he was never tried–his case was never presented in court. Rozier writes as if McCown’s assumed guilt is a proven fact. His bias is most blatant when he has the opportunity to decide who is telling the truth between McCown and some other party. Illustrative of this is his treatment of the “arms race” incident and the burning of the Clinch House.

The “arms race” occurred in 1971 after several years of tension. After hearing frequent shooting in the night, Mayor Patterson of Sparta, the county seat of Hancock, decided that McCown and his followers were practicing for a battle with the white citizens of Sparta. He ordered ten machine guns for his two man police force. After McCown and the other county commissioners learned of the purchase, they felt that the black citizens of the county needed to be protected from the whites in the city. They immediately ordered thirty machine guns. The arms build-up continued until Governor Jimmy Carter intervened. He convinced them both to dispose of their weapons. Although Rozier offers no concrete evidence that McCown or his followers were actually the source of the shooting, he writes under the assumption that McCown started the “arms race.”

The Clinch House, an antebellum mansion, was burned while McCown was jailed during a disturbance in

---

Page 18

May of 1974. The house had been recently refurbished by the Hancock County Foundation for Historical Preservation; “the refurbished home was preserved as a reminder of the county’s past . . .” When the house went down in flames, the mayor accused ‘McCown’s followers of burning it. Since most of ECCO’s employees were guarding his jail cell, this was unlikely. In turn, McCown accused the mayor of “knowing something about the fire.” Once more, without offering a shred of concrete evidence, Rozier accepts the anti-McCown version as fact.

Rozier criticizes the Thames Production Company, a British film company, for bias in their film on the county; he also criticizes the New Republic for not being balanced in their March 6, 1971 article on the events of the county: “the point of view of the McCown faction was accepted without question.” It is ironic that he falls prey to his own criticism in reverse–he accepts without question the perspective of the anti-McCown faction.

The successful efforts for political empowerment in Hancock were the source of local as well as national pride. Between 1966 and 1976, theory progressed to reality as blacks won every county office except sheriff. The stage was now set to see whether or not political power could be transformed to economic power. The major accomplishments of black political empowerment were symbolic, social, and psychological until McCown became active. During the McCown era, the accomplishments of the county government were becoming more practical as ECCO was expanding to offer more jobs through the skillful gaining of foundation and federal funds. Black I economic independence was becoming a reality and political participation became less of a threat to the livelihood of black Hancock citizens. After his death and the demise of ECCO, the benefits of black empowerment were reduced to the symbolic, social, and psychological although blacks presently hold the same number of offices. Although it has not yet happened in Hancock, black constituents usually grow accustomed to these nontangible benefits and grow apathetic if the black elected officials cannot convince industries to locate in the county to provide jobs.

The veterans of the civil rights movement greatly overemphasized the power of the ballot to make changes. Although the Voting Rights Act freed blacks from legal barriers to voting, it did not remove the threat of economic intimidation. McCown realized that the black vote would never reach its full potential as long as blacks were subject to economic intimidation. Because McCown operated on this premise, Hancock, for a brief period, served as a national model for black political mobilization, especially in the Black-Belt South. Rozier’s failure to critically examine the merits of this philosophy seriously diminishes the value of Black Boss.

Lawrence J. Hanks is a graduate student in government at Harvard University. He is presently studying Hancock County as part of his dissertation on black political participation in the rural South since the 1965 Voting Rights Act.

Stephen Oates. Let The Trumpet Sound: The Life of Martin Luther King, Jr. Harper and Row, 1982. Paper edition by Plume, New American Library, 1983.

By Lawrence J. Hanks

Vol. 5, No. 6, 1983, pp. 23-24

Let The Trumpet Sound is the first biography of King to appear since David Lewis’ King: A Critical Biography was published in 1970. One still might reasonably ask, “What could Oates possibly add to the telling of such a well-known life since four book length biographies have already appeared?” (Lawrence Reddick’s Crusader Without Violence, 1959;Lerone Bennett’s What Manner of Man, 1964; William Miller’s Martin Luther King, Jr. His Life, Martyrdom, and Meaning for the World, 1968; and the Lewis biography.) To begin with, Oates is the first to use newly available King materials at Boston University and at the King Center in Atlanta. He has also made excellent use of government documents, oral histories and many writings touching upon King’s life and the civil rights movement that have appeared in the last ten years.

Oates allows King to speak for himself whenever possible, infusing the familiar portions of the biography with new vitality. At times, this device makes the work seem autobiographical, with Oates adding analysis: it creates a sense of listening to King.

Writing that he has “no interest in adding to the deification of King as a flawless immortal ” Oates deals compassionately with his frailties. The result is the best and most complete account we now have of King’s life, revealing an individual striving toward philosophical consistency. He wished to be more like Gandhi. yet his desire to take a vow of poverty and discard his middle-class wardrobe struggled with a strong sense of family responsibility and the image of his leadership role. He wanted to take a day for fasting and praying each week but the pace of his schedule often took control. King wanted to take a vacation from the movement and completely develop his non-violent philosophy, but his charismatic presence and fund raising skills always seemed to be required.

King reacted to the frequent charge of being middle-class by largely rejecting the more negative superficial middle-class values; he abhored conspicuous consumption and refused to enrich himself from speech making. donating these earnings to the Southern Christian Leadership Conference and other civil rights groups. He refused a number of lucrative jobs in order to stay with the movement.

The sacrificing of personal needs found little compensation in King’s role as leader. There were jealousies, factionalism and genuine strategic disagreements. And, he was extremely sensitive to the common perception of the modern black struggle for civil rights being called the “King Movement.”

While accepting the role as the most well-known figure, King felt that this was a result of his being the chosen leader of the movement rather than a result of personal ambition. He repeatedly pointed out that the real heroes and heroines were the blacks of the South who found the courage to fight for their rights–he was simply an “instrument of history.” He made this point in Stride Toward Freedom and in his Nobel Peace Prize acceptance speech.

Oates’ examination of King’s ordeal with the FBI and the campaign waged against him by J. Edgar Hoover is perhaps the only part of Let The Trumpet Sound that is “new.” Determined to discredit King. Hoover received official sanction from President Kennedy to tap his home telephone and those of the SCLC. Between October 1963 and December 1964 the FBI bugged rooms wherever King stayed. In January 1965, the FBI sent a composite tape of these recordings to the SCLC.

Oates argues that “whether or not the tape with its alleged sounds of sexual activity actually incriminated

---

Page 24

King may never be known.” He dismisses Andrew Young’s and Coretta King’s denials of the tapes’ incriminating potential as attempts “to protect King.” Although it is never explicitly stated, Oates’ contention that King was guilty of infidelity is based on statements made by King to confidants, statements in his sermons and personal statements by confidants. The case is strong, albeit circumstantial, even to those who wish to deify. Since well-known papers such as the Chicago New, the Washington Post, the Atlanta Constitution, and the New York Times all refused to carry the King “sex stories” when they were offered by the FBI, the rumors never became widespread public knowledge during King’s life. Even within the movement, only a few confidants knew about the tape. King perservered to confront Selma, Chicago, Memphis, the Viet Nam war, and to make plans for the Poor People’s March on Washington before his assassination.

At the time of his death, King was becoming a more radical critic of America. He had grown to realize that segregation and disenfranchisement were only symptoms of a larger problem: the economic exploitation of poor people regardless of color. The Civil Rights Bill of [unclear] and The Voting Rights Act of 1965 did little to improve the daily lives of the nation’s poor blacks. The Acts did not bring economic independence to rural Southern blacks or anything substantial to northern ghetto dwellers. Bayard Rustin had argued since 1962 that the civil rights movement should expand its agenda to focus on wealth and poverty in America as well as race. King could now see the merit of Rustin’s position and he was ready to act. The Poor People’s Campaign would have been his first effort toward the goal of bringing about a redistribution of wealth in America.

King theorized that part of the reconstructing of American society “might require nationalization of vital industries, as well as a guaranteed income for impoverished Americans.” While Oates stops short of placing an ideological label on King’s new philosophy, others have argued that King was moving toward democratic socialism (See David Garrow, Illinois Times, 31 March-6 April, 1983, “From Reformer to Revolutionary”). One can easily argue that King, if he were alive today, would support the women’s movement, disarmament, and abhor the growing middle-class consciousness among black Americans.

Having the credentials to insulate himself from the harshest aspects of class and racial discrimination, King could have easily lived a comfortable life. He could have pursued his personal dream and taught theology at a university. Instead, he felt compelled to advocate [unclear] rights and humanity of others that he jeopardized his own self-preservation. Let The Trumpet Sound is a comprehensive and compassionate account of this great life.

Lawrence J. Hanks is a graduate student in government at Harvard University. His dissertation research focuses on black political participation in the rural South since the 1965 Voting Rights Act.

Flag Waving Down South. How Long?: Symbol, Substance, and Confederate Flag

By Lawrence J. Hanks

Vol. 11, No. 1, 1989, pp. 13, 16

[Editor’s Note:]On February 2, 1988, fourteen black legislators were arrested in Alabama as they symbolically attempted to scale a fence to remove from the dome of the state capitol the Confederate flag which flies there. The resulting misdemeanor convictions are being appealed, but the incident brought into focus renewed efforts to remove symbols of slavery and segregation from public places. In the essays below, various Southerners speak their minds about the meaning and significance of this controversial symbol.

When the Voting Rights Act was signed into law on August 6, 1965, it was the end of one long struggle and the beginning of an even longer one. The Voting Rights Act removed the last legal barrier to black voter participation, however, the real goal had not been reached; access to the ballot was only a means to an end–the socio-economic advancement of black Americans.

It had long been theorized that once blacks gained access to the ballot, they would elect other blacks to political office. These newly elected black officials would enact public policies favorable to the black community, and the socioeconomic status of the black community would rise. With the passage of the Voting Rights Act, the theorists of black political empowerment were no longer hindered from being practitioners. With the Southern Black Belt and the predominantly black urban centers as their focus, and proportional representation as their goal, the black political empowerment theorists were ready to move to a new stage in the development of black political power.

After almost a quarter-century of black political participation without legal racial barriers, there is a consensus amongst those who keep abreast of developments within the black community: Black political empowerment, even at its optimal level, cannot bring blacks to socio-economic parity with whites–it is hard to believe that so many people thought that it would. Despite the fact that black elected officials have almost doubled in the last twelve years, black Americans continue to lag behind whites on all socio-economic indices. Although there are more blacks in Congress than at any other time in history, blacks face deteriorating conditions in comparison to other groups: Half of all black children born in America are born out of wedlock; the black dropout rate is between 30 percent and 50 percent in several metropolitan areas; black infant mortality and the black unemployment rate is double that of whites; the black poverty rate is triple; and blacks account for over 40 percent of the inmates in federal and state prisons. Thus, it appears that something more than black elected officials is necessary for black socio-economic advancement on a large scale.

This assessment does not diminish the contribution of black elected officials. In areas where blacks have gained political power, progress has been made. In many rural Black Belt areas, black elected officials have provided a variety of symbolic and material benefits. These benefits include group pride, a lessening of police brutality, improved access to public officials, more job training, street lights, paved streets, and increased services from the county and the city. Urban areas, in addition to the aforementioned benefits, have

---

Page 16

been generally successful with strong affirmative action programs for hiring and contracts. In all areas, one can safely say that while blacks have been relatively successful in bringing about public sector benefits, there has been relatively little success at winning benefits from the private sector. Moreover, the theorized transformation of political power into socio-economic power has not been realized.

Now, black Americans are looking for substantive solutions to ubiquitous concrete problems. While blacks who first gained elective offices soon after the passage of the Voting Rights Act represented great symbolic victories, the symbolic euphoria of the late 196OB and early 197OB has given way to the demands for substantive public policy in the late ’70B and ’80B. It is not enough to have black people in office–these blacks must develop public policies which will make a difference in the lives of black Americans. Given the constraints on black elected officials, and the nature of the capitalist system, it can be reasonably argued that political power is not enough–black socio-economic advancement on a large level will require a concerted effort from the economic and social sectors of our society.

Thus, after over a century of touting political power as the major tool of socio-economic advancement, the theory of black political empowerment has been found wanting. It is within this context that one can understand the challenge facing the NAACP as it attempts to have the flag removed from atop the various state houses.

The flag removal effort is coming at a time when America’s black community is looking for concrete answers to concrete problems. The flag removal effort is viewed by most observers, black and white, as a symbolic campaign; in other words, even if the campaign was successful and the flags were removed, blacks as a group would continue to face the same problems. Thus, the use of scarce resources for this campaign is viewed by a large portion of the black community as a less than optimal use of resources.

The NAACP led the legal battles which helped to create a climate for implementing the theory of black political empowerment. Now, black Americans are seeking other ways to reach socioeconomic parity. Although a strong case can be made for the removal of the flag based on symbolism, the NAACP cannot expect to garner widespread black support until a connection can be made between socioeconomic well-being and the flying of the flag.

Black and white Americans waged a vigorous battle to gain the right to vote for black Americans. However, the scarce resources of the enfranchisement movement were not mobilized for the sake of simply voting. Voting was a means to an end–the socio-economic parity of black Americans. Symbolism is not enough in this day of scarce resources. If there is a negative connection between the official governmental display of the Confederate battle flag and the wellbeing of black Americans, it would be in the best interest of the removal effort, and of black people, for the NAACP to explicate this connection. Until this is done, the removal of the Confederate battle flag will simply be another just cause which lacks the public support necessary for a favorable resolution.

Dr. Lawrence J. Hanks chairs the political science department at Tuskegee University.