The Civilizing Mission of Booker T. Washington‪.‬

IN AUGUST 1890 THE CHRISTIAN UNION, A NATIONALLY READ MONTHLY, hit the stands containing an incendiary broadside against African American ministers entitled "The Colored Ministry: Its Defects and Needs." That someone would criticize black ministers was not surprising, but the author of the missive was. Booker T. Washington's name on the byline stung. Known as the principal of Tuskegee Institute and an emergent black leader, Washington's reputation gave the critique force and undercut the potential objection that the criticism was rooted in racism. Indeed, he claimed firsthand knowledge and, ostensibly, only altruistic motives. Citing his "direct contact with the colored ministers for eight years in the heart of the South," Washington had "no hesitancy in asserting that three-fourths of the Baptist ministers and two-thirds of the Methodists are unfit, either mentally or morally, or both, to preach the Gospel to any one or to attempt to lead any one." Given that he had explained earlier in the piece that most black ministers were either Methodist or Baptist, Washington's article left no doubt that he regarded the great majority as mentally and morally wanting. (1) Washington's criticism presents an enigma--no less perplexing than the enigma of Washington himself--because in criticizing ministers he was attacking the leaders of the only institution solely within black control. Yet as almost every writer on Washington has noted, circumspection and shrewd political calculation marked Washington's leadership, and his criticism of ministers, with its risk of internecine conflict, presents no clear strategic goal that makes sense given the historiography on Washington. Of course, little agreement exists among scholars seeking to understand Washington's intellectual and political strategies, and the inability to explain Washington's actions points to a fundamental weakness in the historiography on him. As Louis R. Harlan, his principal biographer, has argued, "Washington emerges from the evidence of his private papers as a man who continually acted out a series of conflicting roles." Harlan's extensive body of work, which reinforced the earlier perspective of August Meier, portrayed Washington as a contradictory figure whose activities bore the mark of concealed ambition and petty vindictiveness, characteristics that have provoked scholarly censure instead of praise. Others have seen a more benign side to Washington's contradictions. More recently, scholarship on Washington has begun to emphasize that his conflicting personae were the result of limited maneuvering room in the dangerous context of the post-Civil War South. Most notably, Robert J. Norrell, a leader in the rehabilitation of Washington, has argued that Washington's political tactics were the result of an extremely constricted social and political environment and that his success as a leader derived in large part from his circumspection and skill in responding to constant and numerous attacks. Rejecting Harlan's use of role psychology to explain Washington's contradictions, Norrell claims that Washington's inconsistencies were the result of the South's deep hostility to black leadership and the resulting ever-present threat of violence, which required all of Washington's tact to hold at bay. Moreover, Norrell argues that by moving beyond the two contexts in which Harlan understood Washington--his influence in Republican politics and the conflict with W. E. B. Du Bois--a different portrait emerges that should produce respectful praise, rather than critical condemnation, even though Washington's maneuvers proved unsuccessful. Others have followed Norrell's path, analyzing Washington in light of the broader thought-worlds of Benjamin Franklin and Max Weber, as a precursor to the third-world developmental strategies of the twentieth century, and as a careful manipulator of the larger cultural ideals of gender and civilization, among others. Broader contexts, so far, have yie