The Confederate undead have a way of rising, zombielike, to haunt the American landscape — first as ghostly hooded Klansmen right after the Civil War, and now as battle-flag-waving hate groups, rallying round a statue of Robert E. Lee in Charlottesville, Va.
The last Billy Yank passed quietly in Minnesota in the 1950s, but the spirit of Johnny Reb refuses to let go.
Even so, it appears we're nearing the end of the Confederacy's interminable afterlife. The white nationalists in Charlottesville may not have known or cared much about Robert E. Lee. But in using his statue as a pretext for bigotry and violence, while wrapped in the rebel flag, they've demonstrated, yet again, that the Lost Cause can't be cleansed or cloaked as benign "Southern heritage."
In fact, racists in Charlottesville may have unwittingly given America a truer image of the Confederacy than the 150-year fiction of the Lost Cause.
When Southern states seceded, they baldly stated their reasons, including Northern hostility to the "beneficent and patriarchal system of African slavery," and the "undeniable truths" that Africans "were rightly held and regarded as an inferior and dependent race." Or, as Confederate Vice President Alexander Stephens said of his new government: "Its foundations are laid, its corner-stone rests, upon the great truth that the negro is not equal to the white man."
Efforts to sanitize the Confederacy began soon after Lee's surrender in 1865. As white Southerners struggled to make sense of devastating loss, they forged a potent mythology that endures to this day.
The Civil War wasn't about slavery. Rather, the South seceded and fought to defend its sovereignty against Northern aggression and federal tyranny. Confederates made a sublime sacrifice, knowing they would be overwhelmed by the North's manpower and industrial might. The war was inevitably lost, but the cause was right.
White Southerners etched this faith on monuments to their many martyrs. "No nation rose so white and fair; None fell so pure of crime" reads an inscription in Augusta, Ga. At the head of this blameless legion rode Lee, a marble avatar of Southern honor and allegiance to homeland.