During the fall
of 1934 the typescript of an article John P. Davis was writing for
Fortune magazine on "The Negro in Washington" circulated
among a few social scientists at Howard University. In it, Davis claimed
that Washington, D.C., had come to surpass New York as the nation's
black cultural center, and he located a key reason for the city's
vibrancy in a group of African-American intellectuals based at Howard,
among them Abram Harris, Ralph Bunche, and Emmett Dorsey. Davis singled
out Harris as the exemplar of this cohort, which he dubbed "the
Harris Wing" and compared to past movements embodied by Booker
T. Washington and W.E.B. Du Bois. Abram Harris "not only sets
the tone of the Howard group," Davis observed, "but is the
national leader of that strong, growing wing of Negro opinion that
views the race problem in light of a class problem." Harris,
Bunche, and Dorsey bristled when they saw a copy of the forthcoming
article. Writing to the editor of Fortune, they took exception to
being labeled Marxist. But when the essay appeared, other readers
took another kind of exception. The guffaw of black journalist George
Streator was nearly audible when he wrote Bunche, "I confess
I had to laugh when I was given to believe that Dr. Abram Harris would
ever be at the center of a movement, except that he sometimes centers
his movements." Streator's sarcasm was probably justified. Harris
was, as his friend W.E.B. Du Bois characterized him, someone who was
"primarily a scholar" who "in times of storm"
would "rather be writing about Marx" than leading a fight.
Abram Harris would never be mistaken for a charismatic leader, and
his "movement" would never cohere in the way Davis seemed
to predict.
Still, John P.
Davis's depiction of "the Harris Wing" in Fortune did capture
a particular moment in African-American intellectual history. Washington,
D.C., during the 1930s was home to the leading academic advocates
of perhaps the key current in African-American social thought between
the 1920s and 1940s: the attempt to understand the concept of race
as an economic construct. This decidedly anti-capitalistic endeavor
was Abram Harris's central scholarly mission between 1919 and the
mid-1930s, and was one shared by other leading academic thinkers of
his generation, including colleagues at Howard, such as Bunche, Dorsey,
Sterling Brown, and E. Franklin Frazier, and Atlanta University sociologist
Ira de Augustine Reid, among others. The position they took meant
doing more than write scholarly critiques of capitalism. Harris, in
particular, believed himself responsible for providing intellectual
guidance. He held that the success of any effort to achieve full citizenship
for black Americans rested on the advent of interracial working-class
unity, and attempted to steer the nation's leading betterment organization
- the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP)
- in a direction that might foster such unity.
Of course, Harris's
formal proposal to the NAACP, the well-known "Harris Report,"
was but one aspect of a broader engagement among black intellectuals
with the economic underpinnings of race and civil rights efforts.
In this paper I will explore the social thought of Abram Harris, and
other compatriot African-American academic intellectuals, in order
to try to answer why the challenge "the Harris Wing" posed
against capitalism never transformed the ongoing black freedom movement.
Indeed, as historians August Meier and John Bracey suggest, the aims
of mid-twentieth-century civil rights leadership to legislate anti-discrimination
was not too distant from the efforts of those who founded the NAACP
in 1909. To understand this continuity necessitates specific focus
on the particular works of scholarship produced by Harris, Bunche,
and others, as well as attention to the roots, strength, and scope
of contemporary civil rights efforts. But examining the intersection
between these African-American scholars and the civil rights struggle
also reveals the relevance of a broader decline in anti-capitalism
in American social thought during the mid-twentieth century. In this
way my paper demonstrates, at once, the significance of the movement
for black citizenship rights to considerations of political and intellectual
flux during the mid-twentieth century, and the connection black intellectuals
had with such currents despite their status, as historian Francille
Rusan Wilson puts it, as "segregated scholars."