Debunking the myth of the Lost Cause: A lie embedded in American history - Karen L. Cox
Between 1860 and 1861, 11 southern
states withdrew from the United States
and formed
the Confederate States of America.
They left, or seceded, in response
to the growing movement
for the nationwide abolition of slavery.
Mississippi said,
“our position is thoroughly identified
with the institution of slavery.”
South Carolina cited “hostility
on the part of the non-slaveholding states
to the institution of slavery.”
In March 1861, the Vice President
of the Confederacy, Alexander Stevens,
proclaimed that the cornerstone of the new
Confederate government
was white supremacy, or as he put it,
“slavery” and “subordination”
to white people
was the “natural and normal condition”
of Black people in America
and the “immediate cause of the late
rupture and present revolution.”
Three weeks after the now-infamous
Cornerstone Speech,
the American Civil War began.
The conflict lasted four years,
had a death toll of about 750,000,
and ended with the Confederacy’s defeat.
By 1866,
barely a year after the war ended,
southern sources began claiming the
conflict wasn’t actually about slavery.
Meanwhile, Frederick Douglass,
a prominent abolitionist
and formerly enslaved person, cautioned,
“the spirit of secession
is stronger today than ever.”
From the words of Confederate leaders,
the reason for the war could not have
been clearer— it was slavery.
So how did this revisionist history
come about?
The answer lies in the Lost Cause—
a cultural myth about the Confederacy.
The term was coined by Edward Pollard,
a pro-Confederate journalist.
In 1866, he published “The Lost Cause:
A New Southern History
of the War of the Confederates.”
Pollard pointed out that
the U.S. Constitution gave states
the right to govern themselves
independently in all areas
except those explicitly designated
to the national government.
According to him, the Confederacy
wasn’t defending slavery,
it was defending each state’s right
to choose whether or not to allow slavery.
This explanation effectively turned
white southerners’ documented defense
of slavery and white supremacy into a
patriotic defense of the Constitution.
The Civil War had devastated the country,
leaving those who had
supported the Confederacy
grasping to justify their actions.
Many pro-Confederate writers,
political leaders, and others
were quick to adopt and spread
the narrative of the Lost Cause.
One organization,
the United Daughters of the Confederacy,
played a key role in transmitting
the ideas of the Lost Cause
to future generations.
Founded in Nashville, Tennessee,
in 1894,
the UDC united thousands of middle
and upper class white southern women.
The UDC raised thousands of dollars to
build monuments to Confederate soldiers.
These were often unveiled
with large public ceremonies,
and given prominent placements,
especially on courthouse lawns.
The Daughters also placed
Confederate portraits in public schools.
They monitored textbooks to minimize
the horrors of slavery,
and its significance in the Civil War,
passing revisionist history and racist
ideology down through generations.
By 1918, the UDC claimed
over 100,000 members.
As their numbers grew, they increased
their influence outside the South.
Presidents William Howard Taft
and Woodrow Wilson
both met with UDC members
and enabled them to memorialize
the Confederacy
in Arlington National Cemetery.
The UDC still exists and defends
Confederate symbols
as part of a noble heritage of sacrifice
by their ancestors.
Despite the wealth of primary sources
showing that slavery was the root cause
of the Civil War,
the myth about states’ rights
persists today.
In the aftermath of the war,
Frederick Douglass
and his abolitionist contemporaries
feared this erasure of slavery
from the history of the Civil War
could contribute
to the government’s failure
to protect the rights of Black Americans—
a fear that has repeatedly
been proven valid.
In an 1871 address at Arlington Cemetery,
Douglass said:
“We are sometimes asked
in the name of patriotism
to forget the merits
of this fearful struggle,
and to remember with equal admiration
those who struck at the nation’s life,
and those who struck to save it—
those who fought for slavery and those who
fought for liberty and justice. [...]
if this war is to be forgotten,
I ask in the name of all things sacred,
what shall men remember?”
