There’s a danger in treating the right in an insular manner, the way historians of the conservative moment often have to. The work of Collins should be read alongside Martin Luther King Jr. on the American dream and equality. Goldwater’s speech about “liberty” and “vigilance” needs to be placed next to LBJ’s speeches in favor of civil rights and the Great Society. When we do that, it’s hard not to conclude that no matter how potent, no matter how much infrastructure and organizational weight stood behind it, conservatism fit only partly within the moral boundaries of the American creed. The right had passion, organization, and legitimate fears about federal bureaucracy. But it’s impossible to envision a resolution to the conflict over civil rights that would have ensured full equality for African Americans and mollified conservatives’ fear about “a federal police force of mammoth proportions.” Collins might have omitted or toned down the racist element in legitimating the South’s fight, but should we do likewise in interpreting his legacy? Understanding the fullness of American history requires us not to pluck the idea out but to put it back into our overall story and ask some questions that relate to our moral imagination.. . . but fair:
. . . Modern conservatism is a machine that will keep grinding on. Whether it will continue to attract charismatic leaders who can make it appeal beyond its base is a question historical books and memoirs can’t answer. But one thing’s for sure: We can’t go back to that old narrative I mastered in graduate school. Conservatism is much more than backlash or reaction. It’s been a vanguard movement through much of our modern history. It has always had passionate activists ready at the helm. As these histories show—in their myriad ways—that’s what ensures conservatism a future in America. And that’s why we should no longer believe that a liberal consensus, or perhaps a consensus of any kind, ever did rule America or ever will again. We’re not a white Protestant nation and never will be one, no matter how much some organizationally savvy ideologues in our midst long to make it so.Mattson is no conservative, which is why I'm surprised to see him put forward (not quite uncritically) a more charitable explanation than simply racism for why the South's movement conservatism runs so deep: more than any other region, the South had been hurt and humiliated by federal bureaucracy, hence its homegrown libertarianism, hence its ambitions to redeem America by being truer to her spirit than any non-Southern American could be. He summarizes this strategy as "depict[ing] the South as 'the most American region,' because federal bureaucrats had tried to beat it up and humiliate it," and attributes it to George Wallace. Well, Wallace was no conservative, and those of his heirs who are have moved on since then. (It's a little about some rebels, but it ain't about the past...) But it's still nice to see a liberal sympathize with conservative weariness at the "States' rights and Southern pride are always code for racism" line.
But at the end of the day, you don't need any better reason to read Mattson's article than the fact that his forthcoming book is called Rebels All!: A Short History of the Conservative Mind in Postwar America and includes a chapter on postmodern conservatism.
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