In The Black Cabinet, Jill Watts excels at providing nuanced historical context that I wasn’t aware of, especially in the early going, sometimes just in a simple parenthetical; it’s rather fitting, given that the entire subject of the book is a group that I had never been aware of. The Black Cabinet’s relative obscurity in history is fitting, as the president with whom they are most associated, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, never even acknowledged, much less sanctioned, its existence.
The Black Cabinet originated informally in 1908, the name a joking reference to “Le Cabinet Noir,” a group supporting the eighteenth-century French royalty by suppressing political opponents. Despite the influence of Booker T. Washington, they were little enough known that when William Howard Taft assumed the presidency from Theodore Roosevelt, he was unaware of the group. A version of this Black Cabinet lasted until the presidency of Woodrow Wilson, whose candidacy some notable black leaders, such as W.E.B. Du Bois, backed, arguing that he could not be any worse with respect to race relations than were Roosevelt or Taft, but he proved to in fact be so, in line with what might have been expected of a southern Democrat at the time, and his administration quickly set to work removing African Americans from federal positions, effectively undermining any power that the Black Cabinet, comprised mainly of black federal employees, still had.
Such jobs had largely been handed out by whites who considered them to be solid Republican party boosters, and were considered patronage jobs, intended to ensure the loyalty of the black vote without giving them any true power, which the people given the jobs had to work to secure for themselves. FDR’s candidacy was the first time that the Democratic Party felt emboldened to actively pursue black voters, and they were somewhat successful in doing so, in party because they encouraged African Americans to stay registered as Republicans, the party familiar to them, if they wanted, while voting Democratic in the general election. Much of the thinking of the African Americans who voted for Roosevelt was that they could help to put him over the top with the hope of making him beholden to them, though this had not worked in the case of their giving decisive support to Republicans in the past and seemed unlikely to work in this case, given that the Democratic coalition was heavily still heavily dependent on white Southerners promoting white supremacy.
The black community was concerned that African Americans appointed to federal positions by the Roosevelt administration were at risk of becoming little more than symbolic stamps of approval, conferring the presumed imprimatur of approval from the black community, rather than being able to serve in a way meaningful related to their job titles, which were commonly along the lines of racial-affairs advisor. In 1934, a group of people in such positions was formally coined the Black Cabinet, by the same black press who had made the original Black Cabinet known to the extent that it was, bringing the sobriquet and in so doing establishing what was then a loose collection of colleagues into something that became an institution in part by virtue of having been discussed as already being one.
As might be expected given such a start, the black press played a large role in the second Black Cabinet’s story from the beginning, and not always in desirable ways; the introduction of the cabinet members to the public was one they deemed overly negative, and so they set about immediately countering by commissioning pieces puffing themselves up to counter the substantial critiques that they were facing. Later, black newspapers would become a battleground between factions of the cabinet, sometimes posing behind pen names and exposing the backroom discussions and workings of the collective. This internal squabbling, too, was a defining trait of the Black Cabinet, and increasingly so as the number of black federal employees, and thus the size of the cabinet as well, grew; the number of different ways of thinking and different approaches eventually allowed for battle lines to be drawn on multiple fronts, which didn’t so much break the group apart so much as lead to inaction in any one direction, and a state of affairs such that the only effective action was undertaken more or less individually.
Before the size of the cabinet expanded, though, there was a smaller group that was capable of a certain degree of collective action, although it did not cohere immediately. But even in this more functional state, there were resentments even when there weren’t outright disputes, including resentment towards those few of the racial-affairs advisors who actually managed to make any significant progress, because of that very reason. Even accomplishments often prompted infighting, with accusations that cabinet members had exaggerated their contributions to reforms or had entered the federal service by ignoble means, by way of the spoils system rather than on their merits.
There is a sort of desperation reflected in firsthand accounts of questionable veracity from Black Cabinet members, a desperation both to indicate that change had been accomplished, and that specific individuals were responsible for it; consequently, many individual claims end up being negated, or at least discounted, to a degree that what achievements there were are not, in fact, attributed to any one person but to the group as a whole, however individually a goal might have been accomplished, in a wryly amusing twist on the possible original intentions behind the claims. Cabinet members’ touting of marginal gains can be read as indicating what bad shape the system was in that such gains appear to be significant progress, or as the desire to believe that they had effected change, or both.
Quite frequently, Watts has to specify many accounts as being claims of the participants, in part because so many cabinet members had incentives to amplify their own roles in generating certain outcomes and in part because the informality, and necessary secrecy, of the Black Cabinet meant that in many circumstances, the recording of meetings or plans did not exist, as such notes could be discriminating. The idea of a cabinet specifically concerned with African-American affairs with respect to the New Deal died in a Congressional committee, and Roosevelt expressly prohibited the creation of one to formally advise him. As such, the mere existence of the Black Cabinet, however loosely defined, could have been perceived as insubordination on behalf of the federal employees comprising it; however, few white federal employees ever knew of its existence, despite the prominent mentions of it in the black press, so unaware were they of the newspapers focused on covering African American life.
Even without knowledge of the gatherings of the Black Cabinet, the actions of the Roosevelt administrations and the white officials in them led to the unintentional dilution of the effectiveness of the cabinet, by way of the very much intentional. The constant chaos of New Deal programs being introduced and the creation of wartime agencies provided ample opportunities for black federal employees to be shifted from agency to agency in the guise of promotion, while their actual movement in terms of whatever power they may have wielded, was in fact lateral at best, and often downward. The growth of programs under Roosevelt also meant that fieldwork and duties outside of Washington increased, allowing for their power, collective and individual, to be reduced and decentralized.
Black Cabinet members often faced criticism—sometimes from within—for being accommodationist, and were in fact nearly always publicly supportive of Roosevelt and the New Deal, even if they were strenuously expressing disapproval and working to change policies of New Deal agencies behind the scenes, generally only differing publicly when they were specifically construed as supporting new policies that codified discrimination that had previously only been practice rather than law. But even as they stayed publicly supportive, some grew to feel that they had been hired intentionally to be muzzled, once again used as a public relations tactic to help ensure a supportive black voting bloc for a president without his being required to implement any substantial changes to the daily affairs of African Americans in return. Even views of Roosevelt, his effectiveness, and his true racial attitudes differed widely between factions of the Black Cabinet.
Many of the large patterns remained the same in the Roosevelt administration as in previous ones, Republican and Democratic. Racial-affairs advisors were loath to reveal the truth of Roosevelt’s questionable, at best, record when it came to racial policies, especially those concerning African Americans, because they were afraid of tarnishing the president’s reputation with African Americans; once again, they were in the position of continuing support for someone who had demonstrated little interest in addressing their concerns, and in so doing confirming some of the impressions of the Black Cabinet. A similar tangled logic worked in the opposite direction as well, with efforts made by the Black Cabinet to enhance their public image in black communities, knowing that if they were perceived to have lost their lofty standing in the minds of the African-American public, white administration officials would have reason to disregard their already marginalized opinions even more. The black press, with the public’s interests in mind, did not necessarily have the same defensive attitude towards the president’s reputation, nor the Black Cabinet’s, and increasingly learned to no longer be fooled by small accomplishment for which the Black Cabinet was responsible; the same newspapers that had noted the establishment of the Black Cabinet and helped to prop it up could, at a certain point, no longer believe in the level of efficacy its members might have liked to believe in.
I can imagine complaints, were The Black Cabinet a work of fiction, that it doesn’t have enough narrative action; strictly speaking, this wouldn’t be true—there is plenty of action, bureaucratic and procedural, and very little to show for it. I, for one, enjoyed the procedural nature of the narrative that patiently showed how information was gleaned and intercepted with the help of African-American domestic staffers and messengers across Washington, who were in turn used to advance policy recommendations, following their extensive and protracted formulation, by circumventing the calcified obstruction omnipresent in official channels. Every so often, there are somewhat small moments where all the elements necessary for some course of action to come to fruition seems to fall into place perfectly, keeping this from being purely a record of frustrated resistance.
Many of the actual accomplishments of racial-affairs advisors had to be downplayed at the time, lest it serve as incentive for defunding those of the New Deal programs that managed to address the concerns of black Americans; a delayed report of the state of African-American affairs could keep the pressure higher to take corrective action. Other of their accomplishments could not be touted because it would appear like puffery of themselves or the administration, too close to the popular perceptions of the cabinet members. And some of their largest victories only manifest as negations of what might have been, such as the blocking of policies that would have formally (or more formally) sanctioned and institutionalized discrimination and segregation. But even retrospectively, the gains made by the Black Cabinet seem minor, or symbolic at best, although that is more of a reflection of the existing conditions, which were bound to make nothing they accomplished seem sizeable enough. The cabinet’s largest legacy may have been in the development of legal and political strategies that became widely adopted for the later advancement of civil rights legislation and judicial victories, as well as in the building of networks among African-American federal officials. In addition, the appointment of experts in the fields of racial-affairs analytics was radical at a time when such positions were typically offered as spoils of victory.
However, any such recognition of trends they had begun would have to wait. The demise of the Black Cabinet was protracted and apparent; while the Black Cabinet was still thought of as comprising essentially all of the African-American federal employees based in Washington, a smaller senior group also came to be thought of as the Black Cabinet by 1943, a splintering that was only the latest manifestation of the lack of cohesion and unity in the larger group. These two Cabinets resisted Roosevelt’s efforts to create a centralized Bureau of Negro Affairs, preferring instead to retain influence throughout a variety of government agencies rather than being walled off, with African Americans treated more like wards of the state, but this could not stop the eventual machinations that made the Black Cabinet obsolete; by 1943, the Roosevelt administration did not eliminate racial-affairs positions as feared, but instead increasingly, and then almost exclusively, appointed whites to these positions, resulting in an eventual racial-affairs advisory brain trust wryly referred to as the White Cabinet.
This was the final manifestation of the impulse that had typically prevailed in the White House to turn, even when the decision was made to address the dissatisfaction of African Americans, to white officials, and by early 1944, the Black Cabinet was officially declared dead by the same black press that had been so critical in asserting and defining its presence through the years. At the same time, with no relationships left that needed careful preserving and no internecine feuding to skew perspectives, the Black Cabinet began to get its due, even if just for the access and input its members had had to the policy making process, regardless of results; the Black Cabinet could be valued in death as it could not in life, with expectations now more correctly gauged and with no need for the members to be provided with additional motivation to continue reaching for ever more progress. Watts continues that tradition of clear-eyed appreciation, not of “Roosevelt’s Black Cabinet,” as it came to be referred to in the wake of its breakup, but the Black Cabinet, in it own right and as its own entity.