The University of Iowa,
in its wisdom, a few days ago quickly removed from public view a faculty
member’s sculpture made of newspaper clippings about the Ku Klux Klan. The
seven-foot-tall sculpture was in the form of a cloaked and hooded Klansman.
The university called
the display “divisive, insensitive, and intolerant.”
President Sally Mason
apologized to one and all.
“For failing to meet our
goal of providing a respectful, all-inclusive, educational environment, the
university apologizes,” she said.
An apology was indeed
called for.
Mason should have
apologized for removing the statue.
It is not the
university’s role to shield or protect students from what most people view as
unpleasant facts, unpopular causes or unpalatable ideas. Universities are supposed
to expose and expound and explain the unpleasant as well as the pleasant, the
unpopular as well as the popular, the unpalatable as well as the palatable —
isn’t that what Mason’s “all-inclusive” means? And that statue provided a great
opportunity to do just that.
For the Ku Klux Klan is
part of the history of Iowa. An
unpleasant history, to be sure. But
history nevertheless.
As World War I came to
an end, the Klan rose in power throughout the South, burning crosses, lynching
black people and spreading fear and hate — hate of blacks, hate of Jews, hate
of Roman Catholics and hate of immigrants. It spread north, and it gained many
followers in Iowa, in both the cities and the towns. It held parades in Des
Moines and Ottumwa and other cities — long lines of hooded and white-sheeted
men carrying American flags and the occasional cross, often at dusk.
A handbill for a Klan
parade in Des Moines on June 12, 1926, noted it would be preceded by a picnic
at the Fairgrounds. “The public is cordially invited,” the handbill said. And
photos show a crowd watching the parade move through town. It included hundreds
of sheeted marchers. Proudly among them: Police superintendent John W. Jenny.
Klan members were active
in politics in the nation and in Iowa. They were heavily represented at the
16-day, 103-ballot 1924 Democratic convention — it was derisively known as the
Klanbake — and they defeated a platform plank to condemn the Klan.
All this could have been
a great subject for a campus forum or a history class or a public-radio
discussion. Instead, President Mason is appointing a committee “to advise me on
options including strengthening cultural competency training and reviewing our
implicit bias training, as we move forward.”
I don’t know what that
means. But it doesn’t sound like a ringing endorsement of free speech.