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This year is the 100th anniversary of a key U.S.
Supreme Court case on civil and economic rights, involving Louisville. Buchanan v. Warley (1917) overturned
racial zoning ordinances in Louisville which prohibited whites selling and
blacks buying homes in white-majority neighborhoods. (On November 29th,
the city dedicated a historical market at 37th and Pflanz to
commemorate this.)
The
NAACP organized a test case to challenge the law. (Charles Buchanan was the
plaintiff—a white real estate agent who wanted the law overturned as well.) In Rehabilitating Lochner, David Bernstein
describes Kentucky’s case as “extraordinary” and “notable for its length and
its blunt racism,” arguing that segregation was divinely ordained and that
“negroes carry a blight with them wherever they go.” (80)
Moorfield
Storey argued against Kentucky before the Supreme Court. He had been
president of the American Bar Association and was the founding president of the
NAACP for 20 years until his death in 1929. He was deeply opposed to American
imperialism, a proponent of laissez-faire economics, and a strong civil rights
advocate.
Storey
invoked the 13th Amendment (a civil rights argument) and the 14th
Amendment (an economic argument), but the Supreme Court decided on the basis of
the latter. Storey had argued that the law reduced the value of Buchanan’s
house because he could not sell to William Warley, an African-American. Thus,
the ordinance was a “taking” which violated the 14th Amendment right not to be
deprived of property without due process of law.
In
particular, the Supreme Court focused on “freedom of
contract.” For example, writing for the Court’s unanimous decision, Justice
Day supported “the civil right of a white man to dispose of his property if he
saw fit to do so to a person of color and of a colored person to make such
disposition to a white person.” (81)
By the same standard, the Court had previously struck down
workplace safety laws and minimum wages. This approach stemmed from Lochner v. New York (1905) where the
Court overturned laws that restricted the number of hours workers could be
employed at a bakery.
Such rights were not seen as unlimited;
they were subject to reasonable government regulation—to serve a legitimate and
demonstrable public health or safety purpose. But under Lochner
and as followed in Buchanan, “unreasonable,
unnecessary and arbitrary interference with the right and liberty of the individual
to contract” violated the 14th Amendment.
In
light of Plessy v. Ferguson (1896),
many legal scholars had argued that such laws restricted both races, and thus,
were not discriminatory. Others rationalized government regulation to “prevent
race conflict.” Buchanan was a key part
of the Court’s move to oppose those interpretations. “In short, Buchanan helped to repudiate Plessy’s presumption that segregation
laws…are reasonable.” (82)
At the time,
other cities were considering or implementing their own residential segregation
plans; Buchanan stopped those particular
schemes. W.E.B. DuBois said it should be credited with "the breaking of
the backbone of segregation." And it also helped to protect
Chinese-Americans from racist policies in California.
Bernstein’s book focuses on
the influence of Lochner as a pivotal
court case, but he devotes an eight-page section to Buchanan and its impact. “Buchanan was an extremely significant
case. While it did not lead to a rollback of Jim Crow legislation, the decision
inhibited state and local governments from passing more pervasive and brutal
segregation laws akin to those enacted in South Africa.” (82) He also notes
that African-Americans lost 22 of 28 cases on the 14th Amendment
before 1868 and 1910, but won 25 of 27 cases from 1920 to 1943 (84).
As Bernstein notes, “Giving Buchanan its due does not absolve the Supreme Court of its
acquiescence to Jim Crow in other contexts.” (85) Likewise, “Liberty of contract supporters among
the legal elite did not often distinguish themselves as advocates for
African-American rights. But at least, unlike their Progressive adversaries,
their skepticism of statism and their support for constitutional protection for
property and contract rights provided one of the few counterweights to
overwhelming expert and public opinion that segregation was good social
policy.” (85-86)
This
sort of racism is deeply troubling today, but was quite acceptable at the time
of Buchanan—with the emergence of
Evolution, the popularity of “race science,” and a Progressive passion to use
government activism to pursue “progress”. Unfortunately, given the prevalence
of racism, advocates for segregation found ways around the Buchanan ruling.
Many cities ignored the rulings, differing their laws
slightly to avoid direct comparisons with the Supreme Court decision. Other
cities respected Buchanan as law, but
used zoning by income class (e.g., single-family homes) to reach similar
results. This was a catalyst for professionalized zoning efforts which had been
rare before World War I.
For example, city officials would change an area’s zoning
from residential to industrial if too many African-Americans moved in. They allowed
taverns, liquor stores, nightclubs, and brothels in African-American
neighborhoods, while prohibiting them in white areas. They allowed houses in
industrial areas to be subdivided, leading to the prevalence of apartments and rooming
houses.
In
The Color of Law, Richard Rothstein provides a useful history of government
discrimination against African-Americans in the housing market. When the Federal Housing Administration (FHA) later promoted mortgages
and home ownership, banks and the FHA made African-Americans ineligible since
the neighboring businesses weren’t good for housing values—a form of de facto segregation. The
FHA wouldn’t even insure a project if there were too many African-Americans
living nearby.
Rothstein
argues that the Lochner-influenced
reasoning of the Supreme Court was one of the few anti-segregation forces
of that time, dampening racial abuse by the government. (In Only One Place of Redress, Bernstein argues the same with respect
to labor markets.) But the Supreme Court eventually
repudiated its Lochner phase,
allowing increasing restrictions on what could be done with property and leading
the way to massive, federal economic interventions in the 1930s.
In this context, the courts made zoning laws—and their use to
oppress African-Americans—more palatable. Communities used “deed clauses,” “restrictive
covenants,” and community association by-laws—with explicitly racist provisions—to
some effect. Eventually, the Supreme Court would again explicitly restrict
discrimination in buying and selling property—with Jones v. Mayer in 1968—this time, under the 13th
Amendment as a Civil Rights ruling.
In Civil Rights in the Gateway to the South, Tracy K'Meyer describes such matters for Louisville from 1945 to
1980. She notes that, as a border city, Louisville would have been
expected to have relatively good record, compared to the South. But being a
border city also gave Louisville a greater opportunity to rationalize lesser
gains and cover for whatever civil rights sins it had.
On housing, K’Meyer tells the story of the Wades and the Bradens.
In 1954, the Carl and Anne Braden bought a house in a white neighborhood in
Shively and signed over the deed to the Wades. Despite the violence and threats
of their opponents, the only arrest was Andrew Wade and a friend for “breach of
the peace,” when the friend showed up without first notifying the police. Carl
Braden was charged with sedition and sentenced to 15 years, but the verdict was
overturned on appeal.
Segregated neighborhoods have historically been seen as de facto thru market preferences: consumers
in tandem with realtors and banks. As such, “white flight” and economic decline
often resulted in a chicken/egg downward spiral for neighborhoods. Rothstein
says that this theory has “some truth, but it remains a small part of the
truth” within a far larger one: until the last quarter of the 20th
century, many cities had “racially explicit policies” with bureaucratic
enforcement. These laws were systematic and forceful enough that the racial outcomes
are better considered de jure—by law
and public policy.
All of this reminds me of Walter Williams' terrific point
about Apartheid in South Africa. Anecdotal discrimination is annoying, but it
results in modest segregation, as each side largely avoids the other. With moderate
levels of discrimination, it's common for separate (and often thriving) markets
to arise. Unless discrimination is complete, you'll find some mixing, from
people who don't care about race all that much. And that was the role of the law in this context—to
enforce the majority (racist) view on people who didn't hold racist views—to prohibit
them from engaging in trade and other activities with those of other
races.
One of the beauties of markets is that people engage in
mutually beneficial trade. Competition and an interest in greater personal
well-being generally encourage people to work with each other cooperatively.
But the law can be used to enforce racism and other views by force. History
teaches us to be wary of such efforts.