Andrew Hacker’s Two Nations: Black and White, Separate, Hostile, Unequal footnote1 indicts race relations in the contemporary us as a system of what its publicity packet calls ‘de facto apartheid’. But its most chilling contribution to showing just how bad things are is an unwitting one. Unlike earlier liberal studies of racism, Two Nations can only indict. Hacker sketches an apartheid system and adds ‘I wouldn’t know where to begin’, so far as strategies for changing it are concerned. The pessimism of Two Nations stands out especially when compared with the tradition of liberal epics on race relations with which it identifies itself. Gunnar Myrdal’s 1944 An American Dilemma, which Hacker counts as ‘America’s most notable book on race’ (p. xi), matched Two Nations in its stark portrayal of black life and of the consistent betrayals of the ‘American Creed’ of equality by whites. But Myrdal stressed the tension between an overarching American commitment to justice and the brutalities of white supremacy. He saw room for progress and offered policy prescriptions with that end in view.
Two Nations takes its title and subtitle from a combination of Disraeli’s celebrated remark about the social distance between the rich and poor in Victorian England and the conclusion of the 1968 report of the us National Advisory Commission on Civil Disorders: ‘Our nation is moving toward two societies, one black, one white, separate and unequal.’ But the 1968 report also offered reams of material mapping plans to combat inequality. Newsweek’s laudatory review of Two Nations illustrates how different Hacker’s approach is. The review features his photograph with the apt caption ‘A bleak diagnosis and no prescription.’footnote2
Though it is striking and sobering that Hacker could write (and
However, Hacker’s study differs from those of the many liberals who share his gloom regarding race. He does not follow most liberals in arguing that we need to minimize emphasis on racial inequality and to turn instead to the practical task of building raceless coalitions to address economic growth and educational reform, which too many liberals see as prior and practical issues as opposed to the impossibilities of antiracist political action. For example, Hacker writes eloquently of Republican electoral successes resting on the fit between the self-conscious whiteness of voters and the Republican Party’s willingness ‘to have itself regarded as a white party’ (p. 102). He proposes no counterstrategy. Thomas and Mary Edsall’s influential analysis of race and contemporary politics, Chain Reaction, meanwhile describes a representative group of white Democrats-turned-Reagan-supporters as people for whom African Americans ‘constitute the explanation for nearly everything that has gone wrong’, and for whom ‘virtually all progressive symbols and themes have been redefined in racial and pejorative terms’. They propose that the Democrats downplay appeals to ‘special interests’ (for example, racial justice).footnote3 In both cases, the diagnoses are bleak, but while Hacker offers no prescriptions, the Edsalls prescribe a deft sidestepping of the issue of race. Given these two choices, I would confess a preference for Hacker’s refusal, as one reviewer has put it, to pencil in ‘upbeat final chapters’footnote4 over the notion that the pale populism of a Bill Clinton will start a process which builds a class coalition that in turn will ameliorate racial oppression.
However, the choices need not be so limited. We ought to be able to learn from Hacker’s unreconstructed racial liberalism without accepting its apoliticism, and to criticize his assumptions without supposing