Dorothy E. Roberts,
excerpted from
Welfare and the Problem of Black Citizenship ,
105 Yale Law Journal 1563 -1602, 1587-1597 (April, 1996)
(216 Footnotes Omitted) Book Reviews: Pitied But Not
Entitled: Single Mothers and the History of Welfare. by Linda Gordon. New
York: the Free Press, 1994. Pp. viii, 419. $22.95; The Color of Welfare:
How Racism Undermined the War on Poverty. By Jill Quadagno. New York:
Oxford University Press, 1994. Pp. viii, 240. $24.00
Given the defeat of past efforts to create an inclusive welfare state,
how should contemporary visionaries promote the citizenship ideal of
welfare? Gordon and Quadagno find lessons for future welfare movements in
the failed strategies and alliances that they studied. Racism's crucial
role in past setbacks makes it clear that strategies must center on
resolving the dilemma of Black citizenship. This part discusses three
strategies that have been proposed for resolving this problem: universal
programs, multiracial organizing, and Black separatism.
One strategy advocated by Gordon and Quadagno, universalism, seeks to
avoid the problem of Black citizenship by soliciting white support for
programs that benefit all citizens. A second strategy organizes for
institutional change through multiracial coalitions that overcome racism
by focusing on groups' common goals. Finally, the separatist agenda
eschews white acceptance of Blacks as citizens and provides for Black
people's welfare through independent community development. I conclude
that none of these strategies by itself can achieve the radical
transformation of American political and economic structures necessary to
make real the citizenship ideal of welfare. While the universal and
multiracial solutions underestimate the force of white Americans'
opposition to Black citizenship, the separatist solution underestimates
the need for systemic change.
A. The Universalist Solution
Gordon and Quadagno both signal the political vulnerability of
"targeted" welfare policies -- programs that are means-tested or
designed to benefit a disadvantaged group, such as Blacks. Targeted
programs that have a high proportion of Black beneficiaries, such as
subsidized housing, are easily plucked from the budget when opposed by
white taxpayers. Instead, the authors (Gordon more enthusiastically than
Quadagno) advocate programs that base eligibility on universal criteria as
a way of eliminating welfare's stratified structure and of building
broad-based support. Because people who benefit from welfare support
welfare, Gordon argues, "a bigger welfare state is likely to be a
more popular one." Quadagno recommends that welfare programs garner
support by "reward[ing] those who pay their costs." William
Julius Wilson advocated a similar strategy of enhancing the political
viability of government programs by deemphasizing their racial objectives:
"The hidden agenda is to improve the life chances of groups such as
the ghetto underclass by emphasizing programs in which the more advantaged
groups of all races can positively relate." By obscuring welfare's
benefits for poor Blacks, the universalist reasoning goes, an array of
race-neutral programs will garner more support than the current system,
which the public associates with Blacks.
Universal programs that benefit all citizens would constitute a
significant improvement over the current, inadequate system. National
health insurance, for example, would secure desperately needed medical
care for the thirty-nine million, mostly working poor, Americans who are
currently uninsured. Child allowances would similarly provide an important
assurance of children's well-being and eliminate the less visible system
of income tax deductions that benefits only those with high enough incomes
to take advantage of it. Earned income tax credits offer similar
advantages: By subsidizing low-wage jobs, they "blur the distinction
between the single parent family moving off welfare, or combining welfare
and work, and the non-welfare family."
Faith in universalism, however, underestimates America's problem with
Black citizenship. Universalist solutions center on eliminating the stigma
that welfare's stratification places on Black Americans, but overlook the
degree of white Americans' unwillingness to accept Blacks as full citizens
in the first place. Universalism focuses on implementing restructured
programs without paying sufficient attention to the social forces that
structured the current stratified system and that have similarly
stratified every other aspect of American society. Some advocates of
universal programs naively believe that the barriers to Black citizenship
stem from flaws in welfare policy itself, rather than from the racism that
drives those policies.
Universal programs are inadequate for three reasons. First, universal
programs alone constitute an improbable guarantee that the poor will
receive sufficient benefits. Universal programs have a
"trickle-up" effect: Programs designed to benefit all citizens,
rich and poor, are likely to benefit rich citizens the most because they
have greater political and economic resources to structure programs to
their advantage. At the very least, universal benefits must be
supplemented with need-based programs to ensure that those at the bottom
actually receive adequate aid. Benefits that provide the necessities of a
decent life -- housing, nutrition, adequate income, jobs for unskilled
workers -- must be administered directly to those who need them, or the
very poor risk falling below the minimum level of welfare.
Second, universal programs do not attempt to dismantle the
institutionalized impediments to Blacks' social and economic citizenship.
They leave racist social structures in place, relying on the distribution
of benefits to relieve the problems these structures create. Universal
programs are subject to Iris Marion Young's criticism of the distributive
definition of justice: By focusing attention on the allocation of material
goods, Young argues, the distributive paradigm fails to scrutinize the
institutional context that helps to determine distributive patterns. I
have a similar fear about universalism's effort to maneuver around racism.
The process of making programs race-neutral and therefore more palatable
to white Americans is likely to weaken their power to eradicate systemic
oppression.
Finally, and most devastatingly, universal programs are hindered by
their ultimate appeal to the public's self-interest. Strategizing to
expand the welfare state has involved devising ways to convince Americans
that helping others is in their own interest. Social Security retains its
political popularity because it appeals to Americans' individual
self-interest: It is perceived as an insurance program in which
beneficiaries recoup what they contributed. Social theorists have noted
the political attractiveness of using the Social Security model for other
welfare programs; even liberal theories of justice relyon a model of
self-insurance.
White supremacy, however, complicates reformers' reliance on
universalism and self-interest to promote the welfare state. The
assumption that universal programs are intrinsically appealing because
they benefit everyone crumbles in the face of racism. Many white Americans
remain uninterested in advancing the welfare of Black Americans; many
others see helping everyone as contrary to their self-interest because
they perceive Black people's social position in opposition to their own.
Under American racist ideology, universal programs that benefit Blacks are
necessarily antithetical to white interests because Blacks' social
advancement diminishes white superiority.
Indeed, the popularity of "universal" social insurance
programs has hinged on their formal or effective exclusion of Black
people. New Deal reformers could promote Social Security as a universal
program designed to benefit all classes only by first disqualifying most
Black workers. "Instead of a 'universal' welfare state that could
create solidarity among workers," Quadagno notes, "the New Deal
welfare state instituted a regime that reinforced racial inequality."
Ironically, then, while universal programs are advocated as a pragmatic
means of racial inclusion, their implementation realistically may depend
on racial exclusion. Quadagno defines universalism as "benefits
granted as a right of citizenship." Perhaps universalism is the only
politically feasible strategy for expanding the welfare state; but until
Blacks are counted as citizens, they will never receive purportedly
universal entitlements -- even if denying entitlements to Blacks means
denying needed benefits to everyone.
In recommending universal programs, Gordon overlooks the very lessons
of history she uncovers. Black women activists advocated universal
programs when white reformers rejected them because Black women identified
with their poorer sisters and understood that programs to eliminate
poverty and deprivation ultimately benefited the entire race. Their motto,
"Lifting As We Climb," signified Black women's commitment to
collective action and responsibility: "It was not enough for
clubwomen individually to succeed; clubwomen shared a sense that they were
representatives of their race and their gender so that their goals were
unfulfilled to the extent that any member of their community was left
behind."
Using the metaphor of family, Gordon contrasts the Black women's
collective perspective with the approach of the white feminist reformers
of that time:
White maternalism was also a way of separating helper from helped, of
constructing those who needed welfare or charity as "other."
Their poor, immigrant "children" were, at the closest,
"adopted." But [to Black women reformers,] black women's
"children" were very much "family." There was little
chronological distance, because the privilege of elite blacks was so
recent and so tenuous. There was little geographical distance, because
residential segregation did not allow the black middle class much
insulation from the black poor. Black women activists preferred universal
programs because the circumstances of race tied all Black people together
as "family." It is precisely the privatized family model of
social accountability that robs universal programs of a strong ideological
foundation. According to this model, our empathy extends only to people
"whom we can imagine as potential lovers or family members." The
limits of support for universal programs correspond to the scope of our
empathy, and, consequently, our image of the family. Most white Americans,
however, cannot imagine Black people as part of their families. The
circumstances that bound elite Black reformers to their poor brothers and
sisters -- residential segregation, economic discrimination, and social
inferiority -- continue to separate the races. While the white feminist
reformers were at least willing to "adopt" poor, immigrant
children, they excluded Black children from their "family"
altogether.
Thus, both Gordon and Quadagno expose how racism has thwarted the
citizenship vision of welfare and how it limits the potential for
universal programs. Yet both authors leave unanswered this difficult
quandary: How would an expanded welfare state compensate white Americans
for their loss of racial privilege?
B. The Potential for a Multiracial Social Movement
The previous section argued that the American practice of defining
universal rights in racial terms will continue to restrict society's
vision of government provision for all citizens. Universal programs that
appeal to white Americans' self-interest are unlikely to change Black
Americans' subordinated status. We must therefore advocate a citizenship
vision of welfare not as the fulfillment of self-interest but as a matter
of racial justice. If there is any hope for realizing the citizenship
vision of welfare, it must come from a progressive social movement that
not only sees a common interest in the welfare state but also is dedicated
to struggle explicitly for Black citizenship. Both books suggest the
potential and limitations of this type of social activism.
One of the strengths of Pitied But Not Entitled is its vivid portrayal
of the social movements and individual actors that inspired and shaped
welfare legislation. Gordon is especially interested in probing the ways
in which choices appeared to historical actors and their reasons for
embracing one design over another. As Deborah Stone notes, the book is
less about single mothers than about "how reformers thought about
poor single mothers." The Color of Welfare, on the other hand,
examines the social forces that dismantled the War on Poverty programs,
but fails to investigate the social movement that installed these programs
in the first place. The Color of Welfare would have been enriched by more
information about the work of Black activists and other progressives who
agitated for the short-lived antipoverty programs the book describes.
Neither book, then, explores a movement that successfully implemented a
welfare program designed to enhance Black citizenship. One possibility is
that a social movement composed of progressive whites committed to racial
justice along with Blacks and other people of color will unite to
transform the American welfare state. What does the history of welfare
tell us about the potential for such a multiracial movement at the turn of
the twenty- first century?
The achievements of early feminist reformers suggest that the common
concerns of working mothers offer a basis for progressive coalition
building. Lucie White calls on middle-class and elite women to follow in
the footsteps of their Progressive Era foremothers, suggesting that they
replace the Progressives' focus on "pensions to protect poor women
from the workforce" with "reforms for all parents in the
workplace itself." Theda Skocpol also believes that the way to
achieve universal family security programs is for feminist groups to join
a broad democratic political alliance, thereby "recapitulat[ing] in
contemporary ways some of the best ideas and methods once used by
proponents of maternalist social policies." Women's increasing
presence in the labor market and changes in attitudes about family and
work may "make it possible for the first time since the emergence of
industrial capitalism to challenge women's assignment to unpaid caring
work." Contemporary feminist activists therefore operate in a context
in which they can link together the interests of working mothers of
different races who need government assistance to care for their children.
Workers' common interest in economic justice offers another basis for
promoting the citizenship vision of welfare. The shift from an industrial
to a service economy and the massive exportation of manufacturing jobs
overseas have plunged the United States into an economic crisis that
threatens the livelihoods of Black and white workers alike. Taking a
historical perspective, Margaret Weir suggests that a full-employment
policy could have united Blacks and labor unions facing similar pressures
of high unemployment in the past. Likewise, Karl Klare advocates an
aggressive jobs policy, advanced by a coalition of poor people's advocates
and organized labor, that recognizes the common interest of welfare
recipients and low-wage workers in raising the labor market floor.
Pitied But Not Entitled and The Color of Welfare, however, cast doubt
on the potential for such multiracial organizing. Gordon's research
suggests that elite and middle-class women reformers have a vested
interest in explaining poverty in terms of cultural and personal weakness,
rather than in transforming the structure of economic and racial
inequality. Quadagno portrays white trade unions as the principal
antagonists of federal affirmative action efforts during the 1960s and
doubts that even full employment would have reduced union racism. Far from
linking workers and poor people across racial lines, the economic crisis
has led many whites to blame welfare recipients for wasting their tax
dollars and affirmative action for stealing their jobs. We are witnessing
the abolition of programs designed to foster Black citizenship, not their
promotion by a multiracial workers' movement.
It seems that even progressive whites falter on the problem of Black
citizenship. Their own perspective on social problems and stake in the
racial order raise some of the same difficulties for multiracial
organizing that confront universalist programs. Perhaps due to their
equation of Black nationalism with white supremacy, progressive whites
have found it hard to comprehend the liberating meaning of race
consciousness. The history of racial segregation as a means of white
domination makes separatist efforts on the part of Blacks look to many
whites like a form of racism to be rejected. Years ago, Harold Cruse noted
the inability of white progressives to cope with racial equality and Black
activism in a scathing indictment of the internal racial politics of
Marxist groups:
Ironically, even within Marxist organizations Negroes have had to
function as a numerical minority, and have been subordinated to the will
of a white majority on all crucial matters of racial policy. What the
Marxists called "Negro-white unity" within their organizations
was, in reality, white domination. Thus the Marxist movement took a
position of favoring a racial equality that did not even exist within the
organization of the movement itself. . . . Marxism has stripped the Negro
question of every theoretical concern for the class, color, ethnic,
economic, cultural, psychological, and "national" complexities.
Cruse also faulted these progressives for failing to explain how socialism
would eliminate white supremacy and foster Blacks' cultural identity:
What guarantee do Negroes have that socialism means racial equality any
more than does capitalist democracy? Would socialism mean the assimilation
of the Negro into the dominant racial group? . . . In other words, the
failure of American capitalist abundance to help solve the crying problems
of the Negro's existence cannot be fobbed off on some future socialist
heaven. It is this persistent racism and resulting weakness of progressive
movements in America that lead some well-meaning strategists to relinquish
hope in radical change and to rely instead on universal programs.
C. Separatism and Black Community Development
The problem that Black citizenship poses for the American welfare state
may point organizing in another direction. Cognizant of the futility of
appeals to whites' self-interest and common concerns, Blacks might turn
their efforts inward. The notion of Black citizenship is not a predicament
reserved for white people; it is a problem for Black folks as well. Blacks
are skeptical not only about the prospect of their acceptance in American
society, but also about whether, "should complete integration somehow
be achieved, it would prove to be really desirable, for its price may be
the total absorption and disappearance of the race -- a sort of painless
genocide." Why should Blacks petition for citizenship in a nation
that disparages their character, denies them its material benefits, and
treats them with brutality? The project of seeking inclusion in a welfare
system designed to denigrate Blacks seems extremely suspect, to say the
least. Thus, an alternative to the universalist and coalition-building
strategies for welfare reform is for Blacks to repudiate the quest for
citizenship altogether.
The separatist alternative is supported by Derrick Bell's heavy dose of
"racial realism." Bell draws our attention to whites' persistent
refusal to abdicate their racial domination and their repeated sacrificing
of Black people's rights. Despite decades devoted to civil rights protest
and litigation, the economic and political condition of the majority of
Blacks has worsened. Bell draws the conclusion that our commitment to
racial equality is not only a miserable failure but may even perpetuate
Blacks' disempowerment. Bell therefore adopts the following bleak
manifesto:
Black people will never gain full equality in this country. Even those
herculean efforts we hail as successful will produce no more than
temporary "peaks of progress," short-lived victories that slide
into irrelevance as racial patterns adapt in ways that maintain white
dominance. This is a hard-to- accept fact that all history verifies. We
must acknowledge it and move on to adopt policies based on what I call:
"Racial Realism." This mind-set or philosophy requires us to
acknowledge the permanence of our subordinate status. That acknowledgement
enables us to avoid despair, and frees us to imagine and implement racial
strategies that can bring fulfillment and even triumph. For Bell, Blacks
may triumph by engaging in oppositional acts that defy the white power
structure without harboring the unrealistic expectation of toppling it.
In light of these racial realities, many Blacks favor building
separatist economic and political institutions in lieu of reliance on
government aid. This rejection of the American welfare state is part of
the long tradition of Black nationalism that sees Blacks as forming a
distinct community that should resist assimilation into white society.
Black nationalists have condemned the integrationist vision of the civil
rights movement for capitulating to white cultural imperialism and
advocating ineffective remedies for racial subordination. Because Blacks
can only expect to receive the degrading form of welfare from white
America, a more plausible and liberating strategy is to strive for Black
economic self-sufficiency.
Regina Austin, for example, advocates that Blacks concentrate their
struggle on developing the Black public sphere, which she describes as
"a space in which blacks generate and consolidate wealth through the
production of goods and services and the creation of markets and audiences
that fully utilize their labor power and creativity." Rather than
appealing to whites' self-interest, fostering the Black public sphere
enables Blacks to pursue collectively their own self-interest. This
approach answers Bell's concerns about the permanence of racism by
providing for Black people's welfare without the need for white people's
assistance. As Austin explains:
Although blacks must resist white supremacy at every turn, blacks
should also recognize the inadequacy of the concessions white supremacy is
likely to accord them and proceed on the assumption that they must
generate and sustain a black public sphere, that is, a space in which they
can pursue the good life both in spite of white people and without regard
to them. Perhaps the faith in Black economic self-sufficiency is utopian,
but no more so than is the faith in white people's miraculous inclusion of
Blacks in the economic mainstream.
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