This is how African American protests of police violence, and reactions to them, generally unfold:
African Americans protest. Some people respond by attacking the protesters as un-American or anti-police or worse. Others counter by defending the protesters on First Amendment grounds. From here, a robust First Amendment debate ensues, during which the protests get recast in First Amendment terms. And while some people try to redirect the conversations back to the issue of police violence, they are rarely successful. Consequently, First Amendment freedoms prevail as the protests’ defining issues.
And yet, African Americans march or sit-in or hold up traffic or “take a knee” — that is, exercise First Amendment free speech and assembly rights — precisely to protest the routine violation by the police, and thus the states, of our Fourth Amendment right to be free from unreasonable searches and seizures; our Fourteenth Amendment right to due process of law; and, our Fourteenth Amendment right to “the equal protection of the laws.”
More broadly, however, we exercise our freedom of speech and freedom to peaceably assemble in order to insist that the nation uphold the letter, spirit and promise of the Reconstruction amendments that were adopted soon after the Civil War in order to secure the full citizenship rights of free and formerly enslaved Black people.
Ratified in 1865, the Thirteenth Amendment abolished slavery and involuntary servitude, “except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted.” The ratification of the Fourteenth Amendment occurred soon thereafter. Not only does it require due process of law and equal protection of law to all people; but it also defines as citizens all people who are born in the United States. Finally, the Fifteenth Amendment — ratified in 1870 — prevents the denial of a citizen’s vote based on race, color or previous condition of servitude.
Never have the spirit and force of these amendments been fully embraced by this nation. Indeed, less than 30 years after the Fifteenth Amendment was ratified, the Supreme Court in Plessy v. Ferguson (1896) upheld state racial segregation laws, and thus ushered in the long, violent and repressive Jim Crow era defined by the political, economic and social subjugation of African Americans. Though the decisions of the Warren Court (starting with Brown v. Board of Education in 1954), coupled with the organized resistance of the civil rights movement, would eventually put an end to Jim Crow, the nation’s commitment to African American subordination persists.
Indeed, the fact that the police routinely stop, search and arrest Black people — especially the poor — without reasonable suspicion or probable cause (and often with the use of unreasonable force); subject African Americans disproportionately to unreasonable searches and seizures; kill unarmed Black people as a matter of course — most often with impunity and certainly without due process; and then, outfitted in military gear, attack Black people who dare to exercise their First Amendment rights to challenge these injustices, is entirely symptomatic of this nation’s continued failure to embrace the promise of the freedom amendments. It is also part and parcel of the concerted efforts by some of our countrymen and women to make these amendments as ineffectual as is legally permissible.
As important as it is to confront attempts to silence African Americans’ protests of police, the First Amendment debates by and large subordinate to the freedom of speech and the freedom of assembly, the other equally important constitutional rights expressed in the Fourth and Fourteenth amendments. In fact, the debates often implicitly produce a constitutional hierarchy that — at least with regards to African Americans — elevates the First Amendment and assigns a lesser value to the Fourth and Fourteenth Amendments. Indeed, they give the impression that what’s at stake is not a host of constitutional rights and values, but instead only one constitutional right (the First Amendment) and “social justice” or “police misconduct.”
Let’s put this in concrete terms. Donald Trump’s recent attack on African American athletes who “take a knee” was his declaration that not only are Black folk not entitled to freedom of speech, but we are also not entitled to freedom from unreasonable searches and seizures, to equal protection, and to due process — that is, to rights guaranteed by the Fourth and Fourteenth amendments of the US Constitution. His “get that son of a bitch off the field right now” was thus a broad constitutional assault.
Considered in light of the GOP’s hostility toward voting rights and Jeff Sessions’s attempt to revive the draconian war on drugs (itself a war on the Fourth Amendment that has been conducted in part to disenfranchise and imprison African Americans), Trump’s attack must be viewed as yet another salvo in the GOP’s decades’ long war against the Reconstruction Amendments — particularly as they had been given new life during the brief tenure of the Warren Court. As such, “get that son of a bitch off the field right now” was an assertion that Black folks have no rights that the state and private citizens are bound to respect.
By focusing primarily on the First Amendment implications of Trump’s diatribe (and, subsequently, the diatribes of his supporters), critics generally have failed to appreciate its broader constitutional implications, as well as its assault on the very idea of full citizenship rights for African Americans. This, in turn, enabled many critics (including champions of civil rights) to reduce the athletes’ protests — even while acknowledging the issue of police violence — to a “right to protest,” i.e., to a right to exercise the freedom of speech.
To recast resistance to police violence, and the Trump-like reactions to that resistance, in primarily First Amendment terms, is truly the privilege of those who are not the primary targets of Fourth and Fourteenth amendment violations, or of the war on the spirit, letter and force of the Reconstruction amendments. For ultimately it is a strategy that reifies — even if unintentionally — African American subordination.
While demands for “free speech” abound at police protests, often absent are calls for constitutional rights framed specifically as such; for example, “Equal protection now!” or “We have a right to due process!” Only by taking command of the language of rights will we be able to change the trajectory of these discussions on police protests and give the other constitutional rights — as well as the question of Black freedom — the full attention and focus they deserve.
Truthout Is Preparing to Meet Trump’s Agenda With Resistance at Every Turn
Dear Truthout Community,
If you feel rage, despondency, confusion and deep fear today, you are not alone. We’re feeling it too. We are heartsick. Facing down Trump’s fascist agenda, we are desperately worried about the most vulnerable people among us, including our loved ones and everyone in the Truthout community, and our minds are racing a million miles a minute to try to map out all that needs to be done.
We must give ourselves space to grieve and feel our fear, feel our rage, and keep in the forefront of our mind the stark truth that millions of real human lives are on the line. And simultaneously, we’ve got to get to work, take stock of our resources, and prepare to throw ourselves full force into the movement.
Journalism is a linchpin of that movement. Even as we are reeling, we’re summoning up all the energy we can to face down what’s coming, because we know that one of the sharpest weapons against fascism is publishing the truth.
There are many terrifying planks to the Trump agenda, and we plan to devote ourselves to reporting thoroughly on each one and, crucially, covering the movements resisting them. We also recognize that Trump is a dire threat to journalism itself, and that we must take this seriously from the outset.
After the election, the four of us sat down to have some hard but necessary conversations about Truthout under a Trump presidency. How would we defend our publication from an avalanche of far right lawsuits that seek to bankrupt us? How would we keep our reporters safe if they need to cover outbreaks of political violence, or if they are targeted by authorities? How will we urgently produce the practical analysis, tools and movement coverage that you need right now — breaking through our normal routines to meet a terrifying moment in ways that best serve you?
It will be a tough, scary four years to produce social justice-driven journalism. We need to deliver news, strategy, liberatory ideas, tools and movement-sparking solutions with a force that we never have had to before. And at the same time, we desperately need to protect our ability to do so.
We know this is such a painful moment and donations may understandably be the last thing on your mind. But we must ask for your support, which is needed in a new and urgent way.
We promise we will kick into an even higher gear to give you truthful news that cuts against the disinformation and vitriol and hate and violence. We promise to publish analyses that will serve the needs of the movements we all rely on to survive the next four years, and even build for the future. We promise to be responsive, to recognize you as members of our community with a vital stake and voice in this work.
Please dig deep if you can, but a donation of any amount will be a truly meaningful and tangible action in this cataclysmic historical moment.
We’re with you. Let’s do all we can to move forward together.
With love, rage, and solidarity,
Maya, Negin, Saima, and Ziggy