America's Second "Redemption"

The painful echoes between America’s first and second redemptions remind us of democracy’s fragility

We have become so used to thinking of Donald Trump, his assent, and his present rampaging actions as sui generis. Doing so obscures the reality that we were already well into America’s second “Redemption”—a brutal backlash against the progress of civil rights echoing the violent counter-revolution that ended Reconstruction after the Civil War. Both historic periods illustrate how fragile democratic advances can be when dependent solely upon judicial protections and the goodwill of political elites.

Throughout American history, meaningful expansions of democracy have never been freely granted; they have been won through decades-long struggles, sacrifices, and persistent collective action. Two major eras—the Reconstruction after the Civil War, and the Civil Rights era—stand out for their dramatic gains and equally swift reversals.

The first long march toward freedom stretched generations before the Civil War. Abolitionists like Frederick Douglass, Harriet Tubman, and Sojourner Truth exposed slavery’s brutality¹, while the Underground Railroad defied federal laws to protect freedom seekers. Black soldiers fought valiantly in the Civil War, turning it into a moral battle against slavery. This collective action led to the Emancipation Proclamation and ultimately to the 13th, 14th, and 15th Amendments, abolishing slavery and guaranteeing citizenship and voting rights.

The second long march began in the early 20th century. The Great Migration reshaped American politics as millions of Black Southerners moved northward, creating a new political dynamic². Economic justice movements, like the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters³, connected labor rights with civil rights. World War II’s Double V campaign highlighted the hypocrisy of fighting fascism abroad while tolerating racism at home. These movements culminated in the Civil Rights Movement, with landmark actions like the Montgomery Bus Boycott, the March on Washington, and the Selma marches⁴, leading directly to the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965.

Both Reconstruction eras initially achieved significant democratic progress through federal intervention. The First Reconstruction saw unprecedented Black political participation, with thousands elected to local, state, and federal offices⁵. Similarly, the Second Reconstruction used the Voting Rights Act’s preclearance requirement to dismantle discriminatory voting laws⁶. Black voter registration surged, political representation increased⁷, and anti-discrimination laws flourished, affirming multiracial democracy.

Yet each Reconstruction was swiftly undermined by fierce regional backlashes, driven by white supremacist elites unwilling to accept Black political power. In the post-Civil War South, groups like the Ku Klux Klan and White League violently suppressed Black voters and leaders. Judicial complicity further eroded Reconstruction’s foundations⁸, allowing states to enact Jim Crow laws enforcing racial segregation and disenfranchisement through poll taxes, literacy tests, and grandfather clauses.

A striking parallel emerged following Barack Obama’s historic election in 2008. Far from signaling a secure multiracial democracy, Obama’s presidency catalyzed a second backlash, led by right-wing activists and Republican operatives. The Tea Party and MAGA movements, fueled by white grievance and supported financially by billionaires, systematically purged moderate Republicans and took over state governments. The Roberts Supreme Court provided critical judicial support, notably through the 2013 Shelby County v. Holder decision, dismantling the Voting Rights Act’s preclearance provision. This ruling ignited immediate waves of voter suppression laws across Southern states, effectively re-establishing authoritarian, one-party rule reminiscent of the Jim Crow era.

National “Redemptions” quickly followed these regional backlashes, as presidents sympathetic to the reactionary agenda assumed office. The first such redemption occurred under President Woodrow Wilson, who grew up immersed in Southern Lost Cause mythology and openly embraced white supremacy. Wilson institutionalized segregation within the federal government, fired or demoted Black federal employees, opposed anti-lynching legislation, and notoriously praised The Birth of a Nation, a film glorifying the Ku Klux Klan.

Donald Trump's presidency represents the second national redemption. Trump's public life has long been characterized by explicit racism, from his family business's discriminatory housing practices to his relentless propagation of the racist “birther” conspiracy against Obama. Trump's presidency intensified this agenda, implementing policies such as the Muslim travel ban, family separation at the southern border, and aggressive attacks on diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives. His administration dismantled federal anti-discrimination protections and chillingly targeted diversity programs across education, government, and private sectors. Trump explicitly cultivated white nationalist support, emboldening violent extremist groups.

This repeated historical pattern reveals the critical role played by judicial betrayal in enabling backlash movements. Both Reconstruction periods witnessed a Supreme Court complicit in dismantling constitutional safeguards protecting civil rights. After the Civil War, landmark decisions such as the Slaughterhouse Cases, United States v. Cruikshank, and Plessy v. Ferguson systematically stripped away the protections guaranteed by the Reconstruction amendments. These decisions paved the way for Jim Crow regimes lasting decades.

Similarly, the Roberts Court’s Shelby County decision invalidated key voter protections, effectively opening the floodgates to widespread voter suppression. Despite overwhelming congressional evidence and bipartisan reauthorization of the Voting Rights Act, Chief Justice Roberts dismissed these findings, inventing a new doctrine of “equal sovereignty among the states” eerily reminiscent of Jim Crow-era states’ rights arguments. Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg warned in her dissent that this ruling was akin to “throwing away your umbrella in a rainstorm because you are not getting wet.” Her prediction was swiftly confirmed as Southern states immediately enacted voter suppression measures previously blocked by federal oversight.

Understanding these parallels forces us to confront a fundamental error: the dangerous assumption that civil rights gains could be secured through the courts alone. Historically, true democratic progress has always depended on sustained collective action and popular constitutionalism—an approach where the meaning of democracy is actively shaped and defended by ordinary citizens through mass movements and public demonstrations. Judicial decisions, while essential, cannot alone protect democratic rights against authoritarian backlash.

Today, we stand at a crossroads. Recent judicial victories, won by courageous lawyers and activists, are critical in slowing authoritarian advances, yet remain insufficient given Trump’s ongoing efforts to reshape the federal judiciary with loyalists who prioritize political power over democratic principle. With Trump poised to appoint hundreds more judges and potentially secure a lasting Supreme Court majority, the reliance solely upon courts to safeguard democracy is increasingly tenuous.

Our response must therefore embrace the lessons of past reconstructions. Just as civil rights victories depended upon marches, activism, and sustained collective struggle, today's defenders of democracy must recommit to popular constitutionalism—mobilizing broad-based, visible, and powerful movements capable of reclaiming democracy from authoritarian encroachment. This involves rejecting complacency and reclaiming political agency through civic engagement, grassroots organizing, and a renewed collective determination to protect and expand democratic rights.

The painful echoes between America’s first and second redemptions remind us of democracy’s fragility. Protecting it demands vigilant resistance and sustained popular mobilization. Only through renewed mass participation can we ensure that democracy survives and thrives, finally breaking the cycle of Reconstruction and Redemption.

1. See, for example, Blight, David W., Frederick Douglass: Prophet of Freedom, Oakes, James, The Scorpion's Sting: Antislavery and the Coming of the Civil War, Oakes, James, The Crooked Path to Abolition: Abraham Lincoln and the Antislavery Constitution

2. See, for example, Katznelson, Ira, Black Men, White Cities: Race, Politics, and Migration in the United States, 1900-30 and Britain, 1948-68

3. See, for example, Honey, Michael K., Southern Labor and Black Civil Rights: Organizing Memphis Workers

4. See, for example, America in the King Years, Taylor Branch’s three-volume biography of Martin Luther King

5. Approximately 2,000 African American men held public office at the local, state, and federal levels, including over 600 elected to state legislatures and 16 who served in Congress; see Asserting Equality: Black Political Activism During Reconstruction, The Legacy of the Reconstruction Era’s Black Political Leaders

6. See, for example, Marable, Manning, Race, Reform, and Rebellion: The Second Reconstruction and Beyond in Black America, 1945-2006, Third Edition; Mickey, Robert, Paths Out of Dixie: The Democratization of Authoritarian Enclaves in America's Deep South, 1944-1972

7. In both eras, Black political participation increased. By the early 1870s, more than half a million Black men became voters in the South, and, in total, about 735,000 Black men and 635,000 white men were enrolled to vote in the ten states of the Old South (see Race and Voting in the Segregated South, A Right Deferred: African American Voter Suppression after Reconstruction). Following the passage of the VRA in 1965, Black voter registration skyrocketed from 7 percent to 60% in states like Mississippi. Within a year, only four out of 13 Southern states had fewer than 50% of African Americans registered to vote, and by 1968, almost 400 Black people had been elected to office—marking a significant increase in political representation.

8. See, for example, Charles Warren, The Supreme Court in United States History: 1856-1918