Legal change could be slow for controversial S.C. memorials

CHARLESTON - For 17 hours, crowds of Charlestonians waited for the John C. Calhoun statue to be removed from its 115-foot-high perch in Marion Square. Many stayed through the night and into a sun-drenched day because they felt it was a historic moment.

Largely overlooked and unseen was the Wade Hampton Monument, tucked in the corner of Marion Square by Meeting Street. It's less likely to draw the eye than the larger-than-life likeness of Calhoun that gazed down at the city.

The memorial to Hampton, a long-past Confederate general, U.S. senator and governor is an obelisk, easy to pass by.

Hampton's successful 1876 gubernatorial election was marred by violence from the Red Shirts, a paramilitary group that worked to suppress Black voting.

Noted University of South Carolina historian and author Walter Edgar described the group in his "South Carolina: A History" as being active in Hampton's campaign. "Everywhere he went, he was accompanied by hundreds of mounted men clad in red shirts," Edgar wrote of one tour of the state.

Otherwise, Hampton was called the "redeemer" as South Carolina stepped out from under the post-Civil War period known as Reconstruction.

Like the estimated 200 Confederate memorials dotted throughout South Carolina, the Hampton obelisk became part of the landscape. Protests over the death of George Floyd in May have brought them back into the limelight, though many have been controversial since their first dedications.

In Fort Mill, there's even a monument to the "faithful slaves" of the Confederacy. Another marker, in Moncks Corner, was erected as recently as 2011.

Now, these symbols have become battlegrounds. In July, the specter of violence was raised by those determined to destroy or defend such monuments. Some have displayed guns or pledged to arm themselves, while one pair tried to blow up a statue on Statehouse grounds in Columbia.

The fight will be long, and there's no clear end in sight. Calhoun's descent from his pillar, and national furor over such monuments, doesn't mean a tidal wave of removals is coming in South Carolina.

A South Carolina law makes it a slow process, and even then the political will isn't quite there to make changes. Communities themselves are divided, asking if removing such monuments destroys history and how to decide what deserves memorializing.

The Heritage Act, enacted in 2000 as a compromise for removing the Confederate battle flag from the Statehouse Dome, requires that legislators have the final say in what happens to war memorials. Since 2000, it's been used twice.

Now, some lawmakers are pushing to repeal that law and give the power to local communities. Shortly before the Calhoun monument came down, state Sen. Marlon Kimpson, D-Charleston, said he was working on a bipartisan coalition to repeal the Heritage Act. That doesn't mean immediate change.

"There is reluctance among many in the General Assembly on both sides ... to rekindle these discussions," Kimpson said. "It's a very polarizing issue in our state."

Kimpson, though, said he feels optimistic for when the new session of the Legislature convenes in January. "I think time is on our side," he said.

For Senate Majority Leader Shane Massey, R-Edgefield, delving into symbolic issues isn't the best use of the Legislature's time.

"You get worried about having ancillary debates that distract you from those very important issues," he said, referencing police reform, education and other topics he believes will make the real, lasting changes to improve residents' lives. "And it doesn't take a whole lot for us to get distracted anyway, and when we get distracted, we can be distracted for a month."

He also worries that taking down statues or renaming buildings and streets means erasing history instead of confronting it.

His alma mater, Clemson University, has petitioned the Legislature to remove Benjamin Tillman's name from a campus building. Tillman was an ardent white supremacist who rose to power after Reconstruction by terrorizing, even killing, African-Americans to prevent them from voting. His disenfranchise policies, written into South Carolina's 1895 constitution, were copied by other states, creating the Jim Crow-era South. A statue of the former governor and U.S. senator also rests on Statehouse grounds.

"You can't defend Ben Tillman," Massey said. "The problem is that once you open the Heritage Act, it's not going to stop with Ben Tillman."

If you remove monuments, he said, even to a museum, it's highly unlikely that people will learn about Tillman and the roles he and other powerful politicians of their time had in shaping not only the state, but also the nation. School children don't unfortunately, he said, partly because state history is taught primarily in third grade, too young for substantive discussions and analysis. And how often do most adults visit museums, he questioned.

"Once things are out of sight, they're out of mind. There's a reason for the expression," Massey said. "It's important to know those things, I think, even as bad as they are. You don't need to celebrate them, but you need to know about them."

Historians have disputed the historic value or learning potential of Confederate monuments. Hampton, whose monument sits nearly unnoticed in Marion Square, honors the victor of the 1876 gubernatorial election.

"He kept Blacks from getting power, that's his accomplishment," said Adam Domby, a College of Charleston professor who recently published a book titled "False Cause: Fraud, Fabrication, and White Supremacy in Confederate Memory."

It's inevitable that more communities will request removal of such monuments, he said. Charleston's removal of the Calhoun statue didn't necessarily set a precedent, as state Attorney General Alan Wilson agreed that the Heritage Act didn't apply.

If the Legislature doesn't address these requests, South Carolina could see what's happening in other states - preemptive action by protesters who have torn them down.

Some residents have already tried to take matters into their own hands. In Columbia, two people left an "incendiary device" at the base of the Tillman statue on Statehouse grounds, but it failed to cause any damage.

Still, Domby said, leaving these monuments up, especially the most controversial ones, could endanger people and ensure their destruction. If preserving history is the goal, removing them to a safer, less public location would be best, he said

"Human life is far more important than any monument," he said. "(Lawmakers) need to do something."

Many monuments to the Confederacy, or the ideologues of its cause, were erected in the past century, decades after the war ended. According to data from the Southern Poverty Law Center, their dedications correspond to periods of disenfranchisement for African Americans, along with another resurgence during the civil rights movement. In South Carolina, the latest monument was dedicated in 2011 in Moncks Corner for Confederate soldiers of Berkeley County. Five have been constructed in the state in the current century.

Tensions are high on both sides of the debate, and with power remaining with a reluctant Legislature communities may be left in stalemates.

Orangeburg City Council voted in early July to send a resolution to legislators asking to remove a Confederate monument and rename John C. Calhoun Drive. With the General Assembly returning in September with a strict agenda, it's unlikely they'll have the time or willpower to devote to it, or to any of the other petitions they've received.

With monuments left in limbo, the fight to remove them, or to protect them, rages on. At the Confederate Defenders of Charleston monument near The Battery, some protesters and monument supporters have recently brought guns or sworn to arm themselves as they face off on Sundays. Three men were arrested for assault after last Sunday's confrontation.

Though made of stone or metal, it seems these symbols are more alive than ever - and they're becoming the center of an ongoing fight that remains a trigger for discord.

Seanna Adcox contributed to this report.