In this book, Robert Gooding-Williams uses the seminal work of W. E. B. Du Bois, The Souls of Black Folks (1903) to outline Du Bois' dominant influence in defining the boundaries of black politics. Du Bois' statement about the color line, still quoted more than a century after its publication, is just one example of the enduring impact of Souls and other works on the ways in which black politics scholars conceptualize, measure, and make prescriptions for black political progress. However, his import as a dominant voice in black political thought belies the fact that there was ideological and fervent opposition to his view concerning how blacks could overcome racial oppression. Unlike Du Bois, however, many of those opponents are less known or simply ignored by contemporary black scholars.
Gooding-Williams begins by offering detailed insight into the Du Bois vision of black politics and black leadership. For Du Bois, politics required authority and rule by a small leadership class who could use their knowledge and authority to influence individual members of their community. This leadership class would help to improve all areas of black society that were negatively impacted by a history of enslavement and Jim Crow. This leadership class could also advocate for African American advancement with the government and other groups. The existence of this class is justifiable because, according to Du Bois, black leaders “embody” the lived experience of black people. After outlining the black politics model of Du Bois, Gooding-Williams highlights the ways in which this model has been instrumental (through either affirmation or opposition) in shaping black politics scholarship, especially in the area of theory building.
The Du Boisian model of black politics gave legitimacy to the type of leadership that already existed within the African American community. Without access to the ballot, black leaders did not ascend to power through a demonstrable show of community support. Instead, ambition and resources were strong determinants of who would lead, or, alternatively, black concerns would be voiced by sympathetic whites. Du Bois pushed for black intellectuals to fill the leadership void because without them, there was a real danger of leaders emerging who were untrained and prone to demagoguery. There is an interesting parallel between Du Bois' view and that of the American Founders. All of these men proposed a form of leadership that, by its very definition, led to small groups having the power to decide the political course for their entire group. Additionally, that group was bound by a sense of great duty or kinship to make laws and policies that resulted in a better society. It is interesting to note that Du Bois was attempting to develop a model that would help blacks dismantle the exclusionary and oppressive policies initiated by the American Founders, but in some ways his model simply replicated that structure within the black community. While Gooding-Williams does not explicitly make this connection, he seems to lay the groundwork for the comparison.
In the Shadow of Du Bois emphasizes two important themes in his work. First, Gooding-Williams examines Du Bois' view of black leadership and his concept of the “Talented Tenth,” his label for the leadership class he imagined. The Talented Tenth is probably one of Du Bois' most popular contributions to our understanding of black leadership and black politics. Second, Gooding-Williams engages in a more theoretical discussion of the nature of the relationship between leaders and communities. His work taps into important questions about representation, accountability, and the meaning of community. These are all issues that black politics scholars investigate regularly, but the book urges us to interrogate these issues more at the level of theory and definition. If Du Bois has had such a profound impact on black politics over time, then revisiting his work as the political landscape is continually transformed and reshaped is a necessity.
The question of accountability is an important one, and it is of particular importance in the African American community, where the threat of vote withholding is a relatively new political tool. For Du Bois, black leaders, in the form of the Talented Tenth, were able to articulate and represent the concerns of the black community because they personified the lived experiences and struggles of African Americans. Their connection to the community is stronger than mere sympathy for the plight of the less fortunate within their ranks. Instead, they are imbued with an understanding of community needs that allows them to speak for the entire community. Before the shift from protest to politics, there was a need to rely on some form of emotional or principled connection between leaders and their community. Since the passage of the Voting Rights Acts and the shift to electoral politics, blacks, like other racial groups, are able to punish or reward those officials who stray from community priorities by voting them out of office. At face value, this seems like a more equitable and democratic tool for establishing legitimacy. However, reading Gooding-Williams, I question whether electoral politics actually yields different results. One of the chief critiques levied at black elected officials is that they enjoy such high reelection rates and secure tenure that they are often able to operate independently of the will of their constituents. We also can point to congressional seats and other positions that have become almost family inheritances (e.g., Harold Ford, Sr. and Jr., Carrie and Kendrick Meek, or Carolyn and Kwame Kilpatrick). If many positions are so consistently held by an individual or family, does the threat of vote withholding carry any real leverage? Would Du Bois see the activity of these leaders as emanating from a deep understanding of the black experience? Could the ballot serve as a proxy for his embodiment concept in contemporary politics? Do black elected officials share his connection to the African American community, or is their connection just an electoral one?
Du Bois' belief in the ability of individuals to personify the experiences and struggles of the black community rests primarily on the assumption of a unitary black experience. This assumption was flawed at the time of his writing, and it is even more flawed now that African Americans are geographically, economically, and educationally more diverse than ever before. Obviously, Du Bois was aware of opposition to his perspective among his contemporaries and that his principles were in competition with those of his opponents. Yet his voice remains the most influential while other voices are virtually silenced. In his analysis of existing scholarship, Gooding-Williams highlights several ways in which contemporary scholars have dealt with the principles of Du Bois. First, there are scholars who further his principles by applying them to more contemporary questions. Second, there are scholars who argue that his principles have been misunderstood or mischaracterized as intellectually elitist. These scholars use their work to clarify his views and provide empirical examples to demonstrate their relevance to contemporary questions. Last, there are scholars who offer alternatives to Du Bois and illuminate the asymmetrical impact of his view of black politics on political advocacy and attention. In recent years, this last group, drawing heavily on Cathy Cohen's work, has initiated research agendas that treat black political identity and leadership as more multilayered and dynamic concepts. These efforts have not unseated conventional conceptualization of politics based on Du Bois' principles; rather, they have expanded our understanding of the multiple practices that constitute black politics.
After reading In the Shadow of Du Bois, readers will question whether black politicians today are the Talented Tenth that Du Bois imagined or if a Talented Tenth still exists. Gooding-Williams argues that members of this leadership class were not just advocates; instead, they possessed certain academic and intellectual gravitas that made them fit for leadership. Would he place today's black academics in the Talented Tenth, and if so, would they measure up to Du Bois's expectations of leaders? For him, there was an intellectual and practical side to leadership that requires thoughtful consideration of the issues of the day, as well as training for action. Currently, outside of a few public intellectuals and motivated scholars, there is a large degree of separation between black academics and their work and the wider African American community.
As we survey the landscape of leadership, we will also wonder how Du Bois might see nonelected leaders within the African American community. How would he view Jesse Jackson or Al Sharpton, for instance? Would he accuse them of opportunism or demagoguery, or would he see them as viable and productive leaders? We are all left to draw our own conclusions, but Gooding-Williams's work provides a stronger foundation upon which to build theoretical arguments and critique Du Bois' perspective and its legacy for the body of black politics scholarship.
