Constructing G.I. Joe Louis:
Cultural Solutions to the "Negro Problem" during
World War II
by: Lauren Rebecca Sklaroff
winner of the 2002 Louis Pelzer Memorial Award
In part:It would take the Naval
Relief Fund Benefit fight in 1942 for whites to hail
Louis as a true American hero. After the bombing of
Pearl Harbor in 1941, the Naval Relief Society was
responsible for aiding the families of those who
died in the destruction. At the request of Mike
Jacobs, Louis's promoter, Louis unhesitantly agreed
to take part in a charity fight to benefit the
Relief Society. Despite the fact that the Navy
overtly practiced discrimination, relegating blacks
to the lowest positions of messmen and janitors,
Louis viewed the fight as a patriotic gesture,
stating, "'Aint fighting for nothing, I'm fighting
for my country."
The press relished in this
unselfish display of patriotism; Louis was risking
his heavyweight championship and giving up $70,000
in fighting the 250-lb Buddy Baer. White press
discussion in the months leading up to the fight
emphasized Louis's courageousness, self-sacrifice,
and his willingness to fight "with his heart in his
fists."
Yet, this praise of Louis's altruism came at a
moment of increasing black discontent, a time when
blacks were questioning America's ability to truly
uphold the democratic principles it espoused. This
disillusionment manifested in the black press as
well as in A. Philip Randolph's March on Washington
in July of 1941, prompted white anxiety about
maintaining national morale.
Thus, while the Navy fight was a pure symbol of
American flag-waving, it also served the important
function of publicizing black patriotism.
In addition, the fight
encouraged blacks to perceive a white resistance to
segregation. As whites indicated, without openly
refuting the tenants of segregation, Louis's
willingness to sacrifice could shame the segregated
Navy. Whites could appear democratic without
undermining the crux of the American racial
hierarchy. With Joe Louis as their hero, whites
could counter black militancy by providing them with
an exemplary figure.
Once Louis had beaten Baer,
he was hailed as "the best fighter ever" by the
New York Post and the "true champion" by the
Washington Post, Louis was regarded not only as
a genuine patriot but also as a credit to the boxing
profession.
Some reporters, such as Paul Gallico made a full 180
degree change of opinion. Gallico, who in 1935 had
called Louis a "calmly savage Ethiopian" now claimed
that Louis has finally "found his soul" and was a
pure representation of "simple good American
integrity." For Gallico, "Citizen Barrow" now was an
emblem of honestly, simplicity and decency, someone
whom both whites and blacks should admire.
And many blacks did. The
Baltimore Afro-American related the words of
former New York mayor James Walker, who described
Joe's patriotism as the equivalent of "laying a red
rose on Abe Lincoln's grave. Yet, these should not
obscure those blacks who objected to the fight. In
light of the Double V campaign, which resonated in
all black newspapers, Louis's victory was tarnished
by its proceeds' benefiting a discriminatory
institution. A writer for the Amsterdam News
claimed that Louis was the "sacrificial goat" in
white propaganda, having much more to lose than his
opponent.
The Baltimore Afro-American reported that
many blacks did not attend the fight in protest of
the Navy's oppressive policies, adding that if Joe
Louis were to go into the Navy, he would be
relegated to one of the lowest positions.
A day after the charity
fight on January 10, Louis was inducted into the
U.S. Army at Camp Upton in Long Island. Like other
athletes who enlisted as symbolic acts of heroism,
Louis aroused popular support for the war effort.
And on May 10, 1942, Joe Louis, in his private's
uniform, made a speech stating, "We gonna do our
part, and we will win, because we are on God's
side." This quickly became a widely circulating
propaganda slogan, appearing on recruitment posters
and product advertisements. The phrase also inspired
a poem, written by a white journalist, which quickly
circulated in many of the major newspapers. Claiming
that the war was named "out of the heart and the
soul" the poet Carl Byoir elaborated:
Maybe those words were
stamped
On your great grandfather's heart,
And maybe they were burned into his soul,
And maybe he came to love America
And to cherish its freedoms
More than some people who just inherited them.
And so, maybe you just felt what he felt
And so you named the war
This is God's War.
Byoir's words illuminate
the unconscious reality of Louis's famed patriotism.
In "naming the war" Louis was in some ways
reconciling W.E.B. DuBois's notion of double
consciousness-the tension of both black and American
identity. Recognized by Byior as a war about black
Americanness, about the inconsistency of blackness
and Americanness, as well as the legitimacy of black
ancestry, this poem elevated Louis above propaganda.
Whether or not Byoir's words strongly resonated in
the minds of most whites, the figure of Louis did,
for a moment, challenge the orthodoxy of white
American nationalism. Notions of true democracy came
not from the hearts of whites who framed American
political ideology, but from the souls of blacks who
struggled on American soil.
Louis's assurance that
America was "on God's side" revealed a complete
faith in his country's democratic ideology, lacking
the hostility and frustration felt by so many other
blacks. Therefore, in some ways, the symbol of Louis
allowed the perpetuation of discrimination and
inequality. As historian Chris Mead thoughtfully
concludes, "White Americans found it easier to give
Joe Louis a medal than to integrate the army, easier
to write an editorial praising Joe Louis than to
hire a black reporter."
In the face of international accusations of racism,
whites could use Louis as an example of tolerance
and American egalitarianism.
Blacks, however, did not
put their faith in these white gestures. During the
war, blacks had relinquished their reliance on
symbols and fought directly for racial equality.
Louis no longer exemplified the future of race
progress as he did in the 1930's-black activists
such as A. Philip Randolph and the formation of
organizations such as FOR and CORE provided
important avenues for black advancement during the
1940's. Yet, as a black man who had made a dent in
white tolerance, Louis would always be admired by
his race. Louis's efforts to aid hundreds of wounded
soldiers, both black and white, were commended by
the general press. On September 24, 1945, Joe Louis
was honored as a model soldier by the Legion of
Merit for his "contributions to the reconditioning
program for veterans from overseas."
During the 1930's and
1940's, Louis was not an undisputed symbol of race
progress, nor was there ever consensus on his
ability to "break the color barrier." For blacks,
Joe Louis allowed for the possibility that, as Maya
Angelou declared, they were "the strongest people in
the world." For whites, Louis's pugilism in the late
1930's and early 1940's was a sign of American vigor
and patriotism in the face of international rivalry
and domestic tensions. Reaffirmed with every
knock-out, Louis's expressions of American
masculinity often provided both hope and comfort in
times of national anxiety.
The contested terrain in
the making of this American hero should not diminish
the fact that Louis was, after all, a hero. And an
important one at that. But the reasons for his
stature were not as simple as an increasing racial
liberalism on the part of whites, and blind worship
on the part of blacks. A black hero in America
cannot be understood outside of the incredible
inconsistencies of American race relations.
Intimately connected, yet spatially and
psychologically separate, blacks and whites have
always been burdened with the responsibility of
reconciling both the presence and absence of
divisions. Though Louis could not completely
transcend these divisions, his place in American
iconography did encourage a dialogue, although
fractured, on the nature of making race. For this,
Louis's uneven representation is a significant
legacy.
________________________________________________________
The Louis
Pelzer Memorial Award was first given in 1949 for
the best essay in American history by a graduate
student. The prize is $500, a medal, a certificate
and publication of the essay in the Journal of
American History. The essay may be about any period
or topic in the history of the United States, and
the author must be enrolled in a graduate program at
any level, in any field.