Griffith and Dixon Duel with Their Critics: A Mini-Symposium on The Birth of a Nation

By the Reel American History class, Lehigh University, July 2010

Teacher's note: The Birth of a Nation is one of the most controversial films in our history, and D. W. Griffith and Thomas Dixon engaged in what we might call a newspaper and pamphlet war around its opening, energetically defending their work from their critics. Here our class tries to focus on some of the rhetorical strategies employed by both sides in these duels. (Prof. Edward J. Gallagher)

Contributors:
Lauren Calabrese: Rolfe Cobleigh, "Why I Oppose The Birth of a Nation"
Brian Carroll: D. W. Griffith, "The Motion Picture and the Witch Burners"
William Doherty: D. W. Griffith, "Defense of the Birth of a Nation and Attack on the Sullivan Bill"
Sonya Dollins-Colton: Dr. Charles H. Parkhurst, "The Birth of a Nation"
Kristen Englehardt: D. W. Griffith, Reply to the New York Globe
Elizabeth Guzzo: New York Globe, "Capitalizing Race Hatred"
Greg King: Thomas Dixon, "Fair Play for The Birth of a Nation"
Travis Statham: Francis Hackett, "Brotherly Love"
Karen Timmerman: Thomas Dixon, Reply to the New York Globe

Lauren Calabrese: Rolfe Cobleigh, "Why I Oppose The Birth of a Nation"
After much investigation, informed discourse with Thomas Dixon, and multiple viewings, Rolfe Cobleigh expresses disapproval of D.W. Griffith’s film The Birth of a Nation. In his article “Why I Oppose The Birth of a Nation,” editor of The Congregationalist and Christian World Cobleigh expands upon his dialogue with Dixon and his inevitable arrival at disapproval. Cobleigh engages in a Socratic approach, in which he poses a series of questions to Dixon relative to the purpose and racial intent of the film.

Although Cobleigh had not viewed the film prior to his exchanges with Dixon, the racial and historical integrity of the film is already suspect because of his awareness of other negative editorial reviews. As a result, Cobleigh enters into the conversation with the impression that the film is inherently racist. Despite his position, Cobleigh gives Dixon the space to defend his and Griffith’s work.

Cobleigh says that Dixon asserts that “one purpose of the play was to create a feeling of abhorrence in white people, especially white women against colored men. . . . his desire was to prevent the mixing of white and Negro blood by intermarriage.” Cobleigh’s reply to this statement is packaged in the form of a question but actually contains a counterattack that jars the stability of Dixon’s stance.

I asked him what he had to say about the mixing of blood outside of marriage and if it was not true that white men had forced their sexual relations upon colored girls and women all through the period of slavery, thus begetting children of mixed blood outside marriage, and if it was not true, as I am creditably informed, that such conditions prevail to wide extent even among white men who occupy social and political positions in the south today.

In this instance, Cobleigh confounds Dixon’s position because he elevates the conversation into a higher complexity of thought. When Cobleigh calls upon Dixon to view the circumstances in reverse, “white men and colored girls,” Dixon falters and deflects the direction of the conversation: “Mr. Dixon hesitated and finally answered that there was less of such conditions than there had been. Mr. Dixon said that the Ku Klux Klan was formed to protect the white women from Negro men, to restore order, and to reclaim political control for the white people of the south.” We see that Dixon, unable to adequately respond to Cobleigh’s conjecture, rechannels the conversation to the Ku Klux Klan. This evasive quality proves to be insufficient for Cobleigh. Despite the apparent biases of both parties, Dixon’s method of argument does not successfully counter Cobleigh’s claim of disapproval “on the grounds that [the film] incited race prejudice against the Negro race, that it glorified lynching and falsified history.”

Though unconvinced by his dialogue with Dixon, Cobleigh pledges to embark upon The Birth of a Nation as an “impartial” viewer. Cobleigh states, “I replied that the evidence which had come to me was so strongly against the play, but that I would try to judge the play impartially when I saw it. Diplomatic in his approach, Cobleigh attempts to neutralize his allegiance to a polar stance based upon the merit of a “fair play” mentality. Regardless of this attempt, Cobleigh expresses his disapproval after viewing The Birth of a Nation and renders the play “as falsifying history, in a riot of emotions glorifying crime, especially lynching, immorality, inviting prejudice against race, falsely representing the character of colored Americans, and teaching the undemocratic, unchristian, and unlawful doctrine that all colored people should be removed from the United States.”

Cobleigh’s overall rhetorical trajectory of analysis, conjectures, and the resolution that The Birth of a Nation “falsifies history” and indoctrinates “undemocratic” and “unchristian” conceptions of “colored Americans” models an informed and strategic course of argument that provided a foundation for other organizations such as the NAACP to use as a valid point of reference. Cobleigh’s Socratic tactics coupled with threads of diplomacy offer a formidable counter to the overall acceptance and approval of The Birth of a Nation.

Brian Carroll: D. W. Griffith, "The Motion Picture and the Witch Burners"
Though The Birth of a Nation is undeniably rich in controversial elements, D.W. Griffith’s contributions to the progression of film must not be overlooked. Creating a three-hour long, historically-based film on America’s Civil War, Griffith aimed to not only entertain his audience but to teach them as wellâ€"placing a strong emphasis on the education and enlightenment potential of the motion picture. Standing in Griffith’s way, however, were critics displeased with his work and skeptical about the new medium as a wholeâ€"calling for widespread censorship of the art. This ultimately prompted the filmmaker to lash out in response to these advocates of cinematic censorship in his article, “The Motion Picture and Witch Burners.”

Griffith utilizes a powerful analogy and hypothetical questioning to drive his argument about the negative repercussions of cinematic censorship. Comparing critics of the new art form to the witch burners of the seventeenth century (with “the motion picture [being] at present the witch of modern times,” the filmmaker desperately pleads with the public to prevent such an appalling history from repeating itself. While his comparison may seem dramatic and exaggerated to some, Griffith supports his analogous claim by pointing to the persecution of other art forms throughout history by individuals also fearful of change or innovation. To prove that such fear of modernization was nothing new, the filmmaker reminds readers of the printing press, originally persecuted by the so-called witch burners as “an instrument of the devil” but later accepted by the masses as an invaluable way of publicly communicating news and ideas. Griffith maintains that critics of this new filmic art are blinded by ignorance just like the “witch burners” before them and that they have again failed to see the potential of film as both a source of entertainment and public education. By drawing parallels between the current situation at hand and both the persecutory witch burners of the seventeenth century and the advocates of press censorship, Griffith is able to effectively demonstrate the flaws of cynics throughout history. The resulting implication is that the ignorant critics are wrong once again.

Though Griffith admittedly understands and acknowledges the fact that every new entity must go through a rite of passage, he fears that film will be “burned at the stake” before ever getting a true chance to take flight and progress. To prevent such a fate from occurring, therefore, the filmmaker utilizes another rhetorical strategy in the form of hypothetical questions. Through this questioning, Griffith is able to pique concern and instill fear in the minds of readers regarding the issue of censorship. The filmmaker asks:

When you apply the method of censorship to these arts, what possible dream can we have of progress in the future? Had these witch burners built beech logs around the written word, setting fire to which made possible our literature and our drama, where would we be today?

Griffith further contends that once the advocates of censorship take one victim, little will stand in their way from overtaking other mediums of human expression, asking yet another query, “when this grisly work is finished, where will they turn their attention next?” By suggesting that censorship could ultimately extend as far as the realm of free speech, Griffith is ultimately able to persuade readers to rise against censorship before disaster results.

William Doherty: D. W. Griffith, "Defense of the Birth of a Nation and Attack on the Sullivan Bill"
D.W. Griffith, the man who made The Birth of a Nation film, made a rhetorical argument more thought-provoking than his masterpiece film after a bill was introduced by Lewis R. Sullivan, then a member of the Massachusetts House of Representatives, which would make it a criminal offense to produce any “show or entertainment which tends to excite racial or religious prejudice or tends to a breach of the public peace.”

The crux of his argument was that the Sullivan Bill was “unwise to drag race or religion into the realm of censorship” and that if the bill was enacted that the courts would find themselves in “very deep waters” with Jews being prejudiced in the eyes of community by The Merchant of Venice or The Children of the Ghetto, a German’s sensibilities offended by The Hyphen or Marie-Odile or Inside the Lines, the Italian stung by The Vendetta or the Irishman by Bernard Shaw’s John Bull and His Other Island.

Griffith is right, in my opinion, but it is hard to accept the argument for keeping race and religion out of the realm coming from him because he made a film that could potentially incite people to violence by painting all Southern whites as wronged, the KKK as rescuers, and all of the African-Americans in his motion picture as savages.

Ironically, without D.W. Griffith’s fight against this billâ€"a self-centered one, to be sure, because he felt as though the bill was simply aimed to destroy The Birth of a Nationâ€"it might not have been possible to have forms of entertainment years later in this country that tackled race head on and taught us important lessons such as Norman Lear’s groundbreaking TV show All in the Family in the 1970s or Spike Lee’s masterpiece Do the Right Thing in the late-1980s.

While Lear and Lee included stereotypes aplenty, their worksâ€"unlike The Birth of a Nationâ€"didn’t foster racism. Instead, they forced viewers to look in the mirror, to think about racism and to perhaps think about what they could do to change things.

Lee made Do the Right Thing, a movie about race in America that empathized with all the participants. He didn't draw lines or take sides but simply looked with sadness at one racial flashpoint that stood for many others. The flashpoint occurs when Mookie, a pizza delivery man played by Lee, throws a trash can through the pizza shop owned by Sal, played by Danny Aiello. Ironically, these two men get along well throughout the film as Sal even refers to Mookie as “like a son to me” in the film.

And that’s the power of Lee’s film. It shows that racism is so deeply ingrained in our society that it can even grip two people of different races who clearly get along and work together every day, if the issues of race aren’t talked about.

Ironically, it took a man who made a racist film that didn’t further this country’s discourse on race, in my opinion, in Griffith, to effectively argue that government shouldn’t censor forms of entertainment that excite racial or religious prejudice to free people like Lear and Lee, two guys at the opposite end of the universe politically from him, to make works that did help people think about and discuss race in a constructive manner.

Sonya Dollins-Colton: Dr. Charles H. Parkhurst, "The Birth of a Nation"
In his commentary on Birth of a Nation, the Rev. Dr. Charles H. Parkhurst responds to critics of the film, using such strategies as pointing out the futility of censorship, affirming the film’s educational value, specifying the exact nature of the film’s “true history,” and, in a stunning reversal of charges that the film is inhumane, citing Birth of a Nation’s humanitarian anti-war message.

Parkhurst first points out that efforts to censor the film are not only futile but counter-productive. He reminds the critics that both the National Board of Censorship and the general public have approved the film, writing that “efforts to suppress it are thus far successful in nothing so much as in giving it wider and more remunerative publicity.” In other words, you, silly critics protesting the film, you are simply making people more curious about what it is.

Another strategy Parkhurst utilizes is praising the film’s educational value in teaching future generations about the Civil War. The movie is a “detailed scholarly study,” Parkhurst declares, a highly effective tool for teaching children, specifically boys, about the war: “A boy can learn more true history and get more of the atmosphere of the period by sitting down [and watching the film].” Parkhurst, like President Wilson who said that Birth of a Nation writes history with lightning, believes motion pictures are a wonderful way to teach “true history.”

Specifying the exact nature of the “true history” of Birth of a Nation is, in fact, Parkhurst’s third strategy. He reminds his critics that the blacks shown in the film are the blacks of forty years ago: the film “represents the negro, not as he is now at all, but as he was in the days when he had just had the chains broken from him.” Thus, Birth of a Nation accurately depicts the Negro race in the past not the present, for, Parkhurst totally agrees, the present generation of blacks no longer act in this lawless way.

Parkhurst’s final strategy is to label Birth of a Nation an anti-war film. Birth of a Nation is so realistic about the violence of war that it questions man’s humanity. The battle scenes are so graphic that audience members feel as if they are in the field with the fighting men, where they experience “no magnificence, no glory, but horror, brutality, and stark butchery.” The message of the film, therefore, is admirable: war is evil. Birth of a Nation sickens [viewers] with the sense of man’s inhumanity to man” and thus acts laudably and valuably to reduce the chances of future war.

This commentary by Parkhurst appeared in several newspapers throughout the country. It was part of a campaign to encourage the public to see Birth of a Nation and to sway public opinion in its favor. To that end, the Reverend Parkhurst climactically blesses the film with his “unqualified approval.”

Kristen Englehardt: D. W. Griffith, Reply to the New York Globe
In an effort to debunk claims made by the New York Globe, D.W. Griffith responded in kind with a letter to the paper, taking on the criticisms leveled upon his film Birth of a Nation. The original article published by the paper -- “Capitalizing Race Hatred” -- took great pains in pointing out the gross untruths presented in the film’s representation of the Reconstruction era and the offensive depiction of the black community. In his reply Griffith laid out an argument that attempted to refute those assertions.

Much of this argument is made through Griffith's attempts to inform readers of the widespread support Birth of a Nation garnered throughout its exhibition. He makes it known that the great people of New York City view the film in a positive light and that anyone who did not feel as such is a prejudiced degenerate, saying “Your editorial is an insult to the intelligence and the human kindness of nearly 100,000 of the best people in New York City, who have viewed this picture from artistic interests and not through any depraved taste such as you try to indicate.” Griffith also makes sure to credit several members of the clergy as well as Louis Sherwin, film critic for the Globe. In organizing his attack this way, Griffith does two things: an appeal to a higher authority and a play on the insecurities of the general public. By appealing to the authority of clergymen and film critics, Griffith gives his film a sense of credibility that can only be attributed to the support of experts of cinema as well as those of morality. In stating that a great number of New Yorkers saw and approved of the film, while any who did not are “depraved,” Griffith engaged in some rather strategic game play. By making his statement in this manner, it would seem as though Griffith is almost daring readers to find fault with his film so that he can brand them with the label of degenerate.

Griffith also sets out to refute the Globe's claim that Birth of a Nation misrepresented the Reconstruction era with a depiction lacking in historical accuracy. The paper discusses the North's aid in rebuilding the South, along with its acceptance of the recent enemy, while railing against Nation's portrayal of the black community: “To present the members of the race as women-chasers and foul friends is a cruel distortion of history.” Griffith responds by supporting his interpretation with evidence of his own. He stands strong in his depiction of black culture saying, “No characters in the story are applauded with greater fervor than the good Negroes whose devotion is so clearly shown. If prejudiced witnesses do not see the message in this portion of the entire drama we are not to blame.” Here again Griffith is engaging in some very deliberate game play. Griffith makes it seem as though the emphasis in depicting the black community was meant to focus on the loyal members of the Cameron household and how steadfastly they clung to the family in their time of need. Griffith takes it one point further by once again waiting to point his finger at anyone who does not see this depiction after viewing the film, contending that they must be racist. What individual would want to stand up against an onslaught such as that? While Griffith's strategies in swaying public opinion may be seen as questionable by many, their effectiveness is evident.

Elizabeth Guzzo: New York Globe, "Capitalizing Race Hatred"
“Capitalizing Race Hatred” takes a very negative viewpoint on Griffith’s work, asking in the opening sentence, “In view of the splendors of national reunion what should be the attitude of every right-minded person toward attempts to revive the passions of the Civil War period, relight the fires of sectionalism, and intensify race prejudices that are unhappily still much alive?” This striking opening statement questions the character of both filmmaker and audience, stating that “right-minded” people should want peace between the two races, and this movie hinders a nonviolent relationship. In the Globe’s eyes, The Birth of a Nation reawakens and intensifies ill feelings that the blacks and the whites had against each other during the Civil War, and it destroys any progress made between 1865 and 1915.

Next, the Globe touches on the fact that the northern states accepted the Confederacy back without punishment or retribution. Instead of pretending like the Southerners did not suffer during the war, the Globe speaks positively about the way in which the north and south reunited. Southerners were not “bad guys” but noble men who suffered pain and deserved to be welcomed back with open arms: “It is insulting to every man of Southern birth to assume that he is pleased by misrepresentation so colossal.” Such a statement puts the blame for the misguided slant of the film fully on Griffith. In only attacking the director and not the Southerners themselves, the Globe’s argument becomes non-offensive toward the mass and respects Southern honor.

Finally, the Globe speaks about the way blacks are displayed in the movie and the way they were in real life. If some blacks acted like they did in the film, there are valid and evident reasons why. However, most of the blacks exhibited “docility and kindliness” during their trials, and they protected women and children rather than hurting them like the characters did in The Birth of a Nation. Whereas the movie portrays blacks as the villains and whites as the heroes, the author asks the question, “Which race even to the present day has the better right to complain of the unfairness and brutality of the other?” This question functions to prompt the reader, both black and white, to ponder the other side’s feelings. It also, however, is directed at Griffith. He should not have the luxury of deciding the white Southerners suffered more than the freed slaves after the Civil War. The Globe continues to state the different trials African Americans went through after coming to the United States and says, “the wonder is that the Negro is as good as he is,” -- adding to the strength and character of these men and women. The Globe’s final sentence strikes with a final blow, claiming that “to make a few dirty dollars men are willing to pander to depraved tastes and to foment a race antipathy.” For the final time, the Globe places blame squarely on Griffith, making it seem like his motivation is not to show truth or give the Southerners a chance to tell their side of the story -- instead, it is only a way to make money.

Greg King: Thomas Dixon, "Fair Play for The Birth of a Nation"
In his letter to the editor of the Boston Journal titled “Fair Play for The Birth of a Nation,” Thomas Dixon is ostensibly arguing for equal treatment and free speech for the film, while in truth he ends up defending his version of history. One of the greatest accusations against The Birth of a Nation, and one of the greatest supporting pieces of evidence for many other accusations, is that the film lacks a historical foundation and is, in fact, “revisionist history.” Dixon goes to great lengths to attempt to prove the existence of the history presented in the film.

Dixon is fighting against a proposed law in Massachusetts that would ban showing the film, and he first asserts his right to present the film under freedom of speech, saying “I cannot believe that the supreme lawmaking assembly of the state will deliberately deny to a Southern white man freedom of speech on Boston Common merely because a few negro agitators differ from his historical conclusions.” Dixon argues against censorship of media that would offend on the basis that “Such a law would have suppressed Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Such a law . . . will reduce at one stroke the whole drama to the dead level of negro minstrelsy and musical comedy.”

Once Dixon has established that for which he is fighting, he confronts the primary attack that has been leveled against him, namely that “Moorfield Storey, president of the negro society leading their fight in Boston, in a lame article attacks the historical accuracy of the play.” Dixon does this by presenting “evidence” to refute the claims of Storey and others, without presenting the sources or facts backing up his evidence. He claims that the white South was unable to act in any meaningful way during the period that Storey allots for the white Reconstruction of government â€" without backing up this claim with any facts. Dixon says that “the assertion that the Freedman’s Bureau and the army could not protect the negro from his former master was a malicious lie,” again stating a “fact” without the evidence. This pattern continues through much of the remainder of the article. Dixon also makes certain to use sensationalist phrases such as “The army of occupation held the South in a grip of steel” and “The little finger of a Southern white man could not be lifted” to obscure the lack of substance.

Dixon follows these strategies up with two time-honored calls for support. First, Dixon calls upon greater authorities than himself to back up his book (the inspiration for the film). He claims to have “mastered the contents of more than 4,000 volumes forming the sources of the history of that period.” These mastered volumes formed the basis for his book and the film, though he fails to name any of them. In addition, Dixon says that “the Hon. John Hay, while secretary of state, corrected the proofs of The Clansmen [the basis for The Birth of a Nation]. Mr. Hay gave the book his unqualified indorsement [sic].” The final attempt by Dixon to reach his audience is his calling back to claims of authenticity â€" “If you don’t like my views of history and philosophy, use my weapons, Reason and Truth, with which to answer.”

Thomas Dixon claims no nefarious purposes existed for which he wrote his book. He claims he acts under the guidance of “Reason and Truth.” He claims he merely wants the same freedoms all Americans claim.

Travis Statham: Francis Hackett, "Brotherly Love"
Francis Hackett condemns The Birth of a Nation as a movie that closely follows the personal temperament and nature of the Reverend Thomas Dixon, a man worthy of disgust and contempt. Hackett continually brings up the issue that Dixon is a reverend and a clergyman and then shows how his actions go against the normal worldview of the typical clergyman. Men of the church are supposed to be good moral leaders, defending truth and justice, points that Hackett assumes most people know, but he shows Dixon's real nature. Hackett claims Dixon has lost his "rudimentary faculty of self-analysis," leading him to a firming of intolerance, meaning that "he has responded with a frantic intensity" whenever met with emotions of religion, patriotism, or sex. Here, Hackett is trying to describe how Dixon's holy status should have caused him to have a very reserved and respectful view but, instead, shows that he steps all over others with almost annoying zeal.

Hackett again demonstrates Dixon's loathsome qualities in the way his characters commit evil deeds in the movie: "Aware as a clergyman that such violence is excessive, he has learned in all his melodramas to give them a highly moral twang." Thus, by giving his characters, specifically those in the KKK, a crucifix, they can do whatever evil they want to because it is in God's name and God is the most important thing to cherish.

Dixon's title as minister is tainted once more when Hackett brings up the scene in which the KKK beat and kill the Negroes in the street: "We see Federals and Confederates uniting in a Holy War ‘in defense of their Aryan birthright,’ whatever that is." By bringing up the issue of a Holy War, Hackett is trying to show that Dixon is no calm clergyman preaching brotherly love but one inflamed with hatred and carried far beyond his normal duties.

Hackett nails the coffin shut by describing how the movie ends after such egregious depictions of Negroes: "if you please,” Birth ends “with a scene representing Jesus Christ in ‘the halls of brotherly love.’” That “if you please” phrase demonstrates how outlandish it is to have Christ shown in the movie, certainly something that a clergyman wouldn't do after lying about Negroes. We also see how the name of the article, “Brotherly Love,” is actually a sarcastic remark about the nature of Dixon's film rather than praise.

"In the region of history the Rev. Thomas Dixon corresponds to the yellow journalist. He is a clergyman, but he is a yellow clergyman." Here, Hackett powerfully demonstrates his use of sarcasm by saying that Dixon might be a clergyman and by letting the reader associate a clergyman's values to Dixon, but then spitting in the reader's face with the use of the word “yellow” to show that Dixon used the movie as a way to "provoke hatred and contempt for the Negro."

Karen Timmerman: Thomas Dixon, Reply to the New York Globe
In his response to the Globe’s review of Birth of a Nation, Dixon fiercely attacks the editor, defending his work with evidence that can be thoroughly supported, while at the same time presenting multiple reasons for the creation of his film. Dixon attests that Birth of a Nation was created to "teach our boys the history of our nation in a way that makes them know the priceless inheritance our fathers gave us through the sacrifice of civil war and reconstruction," along with showing the horrors of war, reuniting our country, and serving a few other educational purposes. The film is not, he argues, attacking the "Negro of today." He is merely "recording faithfully the history of fifty years ago."

Dixon makes a point; all of the facts in Birth of a Nation can all be supported by a good deal of evidence, and he did in fact portray a few Negroes that did not act in the vicious and inhumane manner of the majority in the film but were "faithful unto death" to their white peers. Although many could argue that it is not fair to be able to depict the majority of the Negroes in his work as evil and use merely three "good" Negroes to even it out, Dixon is not under the obligation make his work "fair." He is merely presenting history from his own point of view. As he asks in the last line of his response, "is it a crime to present a bad black man when we have so many bad white ones."

Not only does Dixon give a good deal of evidence to back up the information presented in Birth of a Nation, but he even declares that he will "submit it to a jury of three historians of established character, and if they decide against him he will agree to withdraw Birth . . . from the stage." This is a very confident challenge; Dixon is assuring the public that he is not falsifying a single bit of information, and in fact he backs up his history quite meticulously. For example, Dixon solidifies his characterization of the fictional Silas Lynch by giving a history of Congressman Thaddeus Stevens, on whom Lynch is based, and his imprisonment of a quadroon Negress in his own household, keeping her "from her husband of her own youth."

Dixon refuses to acknowledge the claims that he is being prejudiced and has misrepresented the Negro race. He continually asserts that he is merely presenting history, backed up by facts. Although some may consider history from his point of view to be very abrasive, Dixon argues that the purposes for which Birth of a Nation were created and the facts on which it is based are entirely true and the film should be considered as a work of art instead of attacked for the director’s personal opinions.