week of 5/14/03
 
 
 

Symbols – like flags – do mean something
By Lee Shelton

There was a letter to the editor in last Wednesday’s Enterprise Mountaineer concerning a North Carolina flag that was being flown upside down at an area lodging facility. The writer indicated that when she advised the establishment, the person with whom she spoke said that it looked OK to him. That raises the questions: how many people noticed that the flag was upside down, and how many of them cared? How many people could describe their own state flag and its components, as well as explain the respective meanings? What is a flag really intended to accomplish? All 50 states have a flag, as do a number of municipalities and various organizations. What is their intended purpose and relative importance? What does our state flag say?

My contemplation of similar questions began several months ago when I learned that the Mississippi town where I was born and raised had recently designed a municipal flag. I reflected on this with some degree of trepidation and unease. The issue of the Georgia state flag had risen again from its shallow grave, with the prospects of three different flags within a two- year period, and they continue to wrangle with the issue at the state level in Mississippi. Disagreement and discord continues concerning the display of the Confederate Flag at the state capitol in Columbia, South Carolina.

So, with that backdrop, I did not know what to expect, but I wasn’t optimistic. That is because I grew up in what has been called “the most Southern Place on Earth” — home to Byron Dela Beckwith and a major center of the (White) Citizens Council. I attended elementary school only 5 miles from Bryant’s Store in Money, Miss., where Emmett Till had the encounter that led to his murder. The list could go on. So, with the pressure to remove the “bars and stars” from the state flag, what could be their motive to develop a municipal flag — now?

The flag was designed by an architect in the town. Notably absent was any vestige of the Confederate States of America. Instead, a waving Old Glory was the focal point under the ubiquitous Cotton Boll.

I phoned a government official that I know and asked whether or not this had been a controversial issue; how emotional and heated did the discourse get? How, given what was going on with the state flag, and being — well, Greenwood, Mississippi — could they not include any symbolism of the Confederate States of America? He replied: “Lee, the Civil War is over. We have a good historical museum, but we are now focusing on the future and its opportunities and challenges. In order to be successful we must be unified. This flag is a small gesture towards that goal. The flag is a statement of who we are, what our values are, and a representation of unity. It is a flag that everyone who lives here can rally around. It is a way to distance ourselves from the unproductive furor over the state flag, and, hopefully, will set an example for others to follow. We need to move forward.” I was rather stunned but quite pleased, to say the least. The folks in Greenwood understood what flags are for.

They got it right. The flag is symbolic, representing and signifying to those within and without what is important. The symbols take the place of words. The flag and underlying symbols are also intended to be a unifier. If that is the case, then why is there all the dissension and rancor over the aforementioned state flags? Perhaps “they” have missed the point.

I also attended the University of Mississippi in the 1960s. You know, the “Ole Miss Rebels,” as in “Rebel Flag.” Home of the University Greys — comprised of the 150-member senior class, which in a dorm room in 1861 formed Company A of the Eleventh Mississippi Regiment of Volunteer Infantry. All of them — the entire senior class of the University — died during the Civil War, the vast majority on July 3, 1863, at Gettysburg. From one historian’s writings, “On July 3, 1863, an Ole Miss student dipped a death message to his mother in his own blood and died.” During the war, the Lyceum at the University served as a hospital and the observatory as a morgue. A cemetery on campus is a vivid reminder of what took place.

So, it is notable that years ago the university took proactive measures to prohibit the display of the Confederate Flag on campus, and especially at sporting events. If there were ever a logical place to wave the Confederate Flag, it is at Ole Miss. But, I would advise you not to do so. The town of Oxford, Miss., home to the University — burned to the ground by Gen. Sherman in 1863 — is also following suit. So, if Greenwood and Ole Miss can figure out what a flag is for — and what it is not for — why can’t the State of Mississippi and the State of South Carolina, among others?

Let’s briefly consider the Confederate Flag in this context. A segment of the population in South Carolina, Georgia and Mississippi assert that the flag is a symbol of heritage and pride; that it is not intended to be divisive. Another large segment says that it is divisive. So, who is right? If state symbols are to be inclusive, then there is a problem if such a large percentage of the population believes that the flag is not inclusive — for whatever reason. Go back to the drawing board. There are numerous symbols and statements of identity that can be included that do not conjure up this divisiveness; so why use the ones that do?

A large number of the ancestors of African Americans in these Southern States were in bondage during the period that the Confederate Flag was in use. That is a sound foundation on which to assert that this symbol is clearly not inclusive, coupled, of course, with the direct correlation to the Klu Klux Klan.

This is exacerbated by the fact the southern states, such as Georgia and Mississippi, only added the stars and bars to the state flag, or in the case of South Carolina hoisted the Confederate Flag, during the late 1950s and the early 1960s in defiance of Civil Rights legislation. This makes the heritage argument even weaker, compounded by the fact that a lot of folks in the pro-flag segment know very little about the Confederate Flag that they are promoting.

The flag that is referred to as “the” Confederate Flag, is actually the Confederate Navy Jack, which was first used in 1863. This was the flag used by the Klu Klux Klan in its initial stages, which became the symbol of the organization. If South Carolina had wanted to fly the Confederate Flag, then why not fly the official Confederate Flag, the third iteration of which was approved in March 1865, only a month prior to Lee’s surrender? I guess the Confederate Government had little to do in those waning weeks but design a new flag. But I question the purity of South Carolina’s intentions. This was in essence giving the raspberry to the African-American citizens and effectively the rest of the country.

Those who display the flag around here refer to it as the “Battle Flag,” but it isn’t. It is also the Navy Jack (how many of their ancestors served in the Confederate Navy?). Further, the individual states in the Confederacy were loosely cobbled together and had a distaste of federalism, even during the course of the war. Thus, a number of the states and fighting regiments used their own flag. The Bonnie Blue Flag was used by a number of Mississippi regiments, as it was selected as the state flag upon secession. There was not one official battle flag, contrary to assertions otherwise.

When the Bonnie Blue Flag was raised over the Capitol Building in Jackson, Miss., Harry MacCarthy wrote a song by the same name, which became the second most popular song of the Confederacy. This flag was adopted in some form by five of the Southern states that changed flags upon secession in 1861. Also there was no flag manufacturer in the South during the Civil War. It was a cottage industry, and often two flags made by the same person looked different. The “Southern Cross” — or stars and bars — was first used by the Army of Northern Virginia. Gen. P.G.T. Beauregard proposed adopting a version of the St. Andrews Cross as the standard battle flag of the Confederate army, but it never was. Admittedly, others did use it; but, many did not — they once again used their own flag. Consequently, Confederate soldiers served and died under a number of flags, the fewest of which were most likely under the Navy Jack.

The Battle Flag of Northern Virginia included the St. Andrews Cross encasing 13 stars — 11 for the states that seceded and two for Kentucky and Missouri. The St. Andrews Cross was popular in the South given the large Scottish ancestry.

St. Andrews, of course, is the patron saint of Scotland, who was crucified on a cross in the shape of an X. The Battle Flag was square in shape, as are most battle flags, as opposed to the rectangle shape of the Navy Jack. Thus, the Confederate flag hanging around these parts is neither an official flag of the Confederate States of America nor the battle flag.

So are flag referenda a good idea, as a number of states are taking that route? No, they aren’t. Our form of government is predicated on the protection of minority rights, and rights for all its citizens. The Founding Fathers were very concerned about the “tyranny of the majority” — and the emotional tides of populism — and established the government with these concerns vividly in mind.

In these flag referenda, the minority interests are subjugated to the majority. Thus, it is attendant upon the elected officials to develop a symbol that is all-inclusive. To disenfranchise such a large percentage of the population in an endeavor intended to unify, “just doesn’t hunt,” in Mississippi parlance.

To close, let’s look briefly at the history of flags and again at their intended purpose. Flags have been around for thousands of years. They were first referred to as a vexilloid, which is from Latin, meaning “to guide” (vexillology is the scientific study of flags). It was originally believed that they had magical powers. At first they were metal or wooden poles with carvings on top. About 2,000 years ago, pieces of fabric or material were added for decoration, somewhat resembling the flags of today. Flags in battle were important as they helped distinguish friend from foe, and identify certain dignitaries and leaders.

They were — and are — a way to communicate with symbols. They are designed to tell the viewer something about the bearer and identify the bearer as part of a specific group. They are also intended to be a rallying point — “rally around the flag” — for those under its domain.

So, what is displaying the Confederate Flag as a State Symbol in the 21st Century saying? Why would we have symbols that are divisive if an important intent is one of “inclusiveness” — saying this is who we are, these are our common bonds and values?

So, then deciding what should not go into a flag design should be easy. Deciding what to include and what to communicate may take more time, but identifying something more appropriate should not be a problem. Whatever the flag says, it should be about all the citizens, not just a segment, even if it is the largest segment.

The United States Flag is a great example. It consists of 13 horizontal stripes — representing the original 13 colonies — seven red alternating with 6 white. In the canton (corner) is a blue field representing a new constellation to which these 13 stripes are giving way. Each State of the Union is reflected by one star, of which, there are now 50. The colors are symbolic as well. The red symbolizes hardiness and valor; white symbolizes purity and innocence and blue represents vigilance, perseverance and justice. There is one more red than white stripe, conveying that we are a peace-loving country but, if provoked, we will defend our freedom. We are peaceful and innocent but unafraid.

Thus, in its simplicity, it says a lot. And it is all-inclusive.

Other good examples would include the International Olympic Flag with the interlocking five rings, signifying the coming together of the five continents in harmony, and the U.N. Flag displaying the olive branch of peace. They are simple but clear in statement — and they are inclusive.

Thus, the right thing to do concerning Confederate symbols in state flags and crests is clear. It just requires reasoned judgment and leadership — qualities found, at least on this matter, in Greenwood, Miss., and at Ole Miss, of all places.

(Lee Shelton lives in Maggie Valley and works as a financial and development consultant. He can be reached a lshelto@gsb.uchicago.edu)