Women’s group behind Confederate memorials battles to keep monuments
On a glorious, latespring day, Maya Little strode across the poplarlined University of North Carolina quadrangle, past protesters and a uniformed officer. She stepped onto the base of the Confederate soldier statue that has stood there since 1913 and splashed it with a mixture of red ink and her own blood.
The 25-year-old doctoral candidate was sending a message to Chancellor Carol Folt that the monument – nicknamed “Silent Sam” – was an affront to black students like her, “the celebration of an army that fought for our ancestors’ enslavement.”
But Little was also speaking to the group responsible for erecting this memorial to “the Lost Cause” – the United Daughters of the Confederacy.
“There is no Silent Sam without black blood, without violence towards black people,” Little said recently as she sat in the statue’s shadow, campus security guards hovering behind nearby trees and columns. “I would say all that blood is on their hands. And it will continue to be until they take a stand – until they ... make an effort to take these monuments down and to be a part of actual racial equality, racial justice.”
But the Daughters had already made their position clear months before Little’s protest and arrest. Last summer, in the wake of riots over the proposed removal of a monument to Confederate Gen. Robert E. Lee in Charlottesville, Va., the group issued a rare public statement.
“We are grieved that certain hate groups have taken the Confederate flag and other symbols as their own,” President General Patricia Bryson wrote following the Aug. 12 clashes last year that left one woman dead. But while Bryson insisted that the UDC condemns anyone who “promotes racial divisiveness or white supremacy,” she argued that the Confederate ancestors honored by these memorials “were and are Americans.”
She issued a call of her own: “Join us in denouncing hate groups and affirming that Confederate memorial statues and monuments are part of our shared American history and should remain in place.”
Most people might know the UDC as that group of mainly older women who dress in widow’s weeds and gather on Confederate Memorial Day to lay wreaths of boxwood and holly and sing mournful renditions of “Dixie” in honor of the estimated 260,000 Confederate service members who died in the Civil War. Seeing them arrayed in their broad-brimmed hats and red-and-white sashes, it would be easy to dismiss the Daughters as a quaint anachronism.
That would be a mistake.
As memorials have toppled and Confederate place names have vanished in the year since the Charlottesville riots, the Daughters have fought back with lawsuits aimed at stopping the removal of rebel monuments from public spaces.
Heidi Beirich of the Southern Poverty Law Center counts the group among the leading proponents of the “cult of the Lost Cause” – noting it has distributed literature that claims most African-Americans were “ready and willing” to serve slave owners and that northern nullification of Southerners’ rights forced the War Between the States.
“I wouldn’t put them on ... our hate group list,” says Beirich. “But they are still perpetuating some of the vilest ideas in American history, and the ones that we’ve worked so hard to get rid of.”
The national UDC – headquartered in Richmond, Va., capital of the former Confederate States of America – did not respond to requests for comment.
Founded on Sept. 10, 1894, the UDC sprang from women’s “hospital associations, sewing societies and knitting circles” across the South that worked to aid Confederate soldiers, according to its website.
Membership is open to descendants of those who served honorably in the Confederate military or “who gave material aid to the cause.”
After the war, the group offered assistance to Confederate widows and orphans. But its most visible legacy is one of metal and stone.
Members of the South’s most prominent families, the Daughters dedicated themselves to telling what they considered “a truthful history” of the war. So adept were they at raising funds that when the United Confederate Veterans had trouble funding a memorial to Jefferson Davis in Richmond, the Daughters took over the project. The memorial, with its semicircular colonnade and 67-foot-high column, was dedicated on June 3, 1907 – the 99th anniversary of Davis’ birth.
The SPLC attributes some 450 monuments, markers, buildings and other commemoratives to UDC efforts. The memorials range from modest statues like Silent Sam to the soaring 351-foot concrete obelisk marking the Kentucky birthplace of Davis, the Confederacy’s only president. The vast majority were erected during the late 19th and early 20th centuries – when states were enacting Jim Crow laws meant to disenfranchise blacks – and amid the civil rights movement of the 1950s and 60s.
But the Daughters are no longer as united as they once were. Amid calls to remove a Confederate statue from the old courthouse in Tampa, Fla., the president of the UDC’s
‘‘ I WOULDN’T PUT (UDC) ON ... OUR HATE GROUP LIST, BUT THEY ARE STILL PERPETUATING SOME OF THE VILEST IDEAS IN AMERICAN HISTORY, AND THE ONES THAT WE’VE WORKED SO HARD TO GET RID OF. Heidi Beirich, Southern Poverty Law Center
state division came out in support of moving such monuments from public property.
In North Carolina, officials are trying to determine whether Silent Sam and other Confederate memorials have become public safety hazards – a determination that opponents believe could fulfill an exception to a 2015 law preventing their permanent removal.
Little, who studies history at UNC, went to the North Carolina UDC’s convention last year to ask for the group’s support to move Silent Sam. She was asked to leave.
Division officials did not respond to requests for comment. But at a March hearing before the North Carolina Historical Commission, state UDC member Teresa Langley said the group was “totally against any action” to remove or relocate the memorials. “Our organization and legacy organizations like it are the primary stakeholders in this controversy,” Langley said.
On April 30, as Little turned Silent Sam’s pedestal red, a fellow protester read aloud the 1913 dedication speech of Julian Carr – a Confederate veteran, industrialist and UNC graduate whose name adorns a nearby city and a building at Duke University.
“One hundred yards from where we stand ... I horse-whipped a negro wench until her skirts hung in shreds, because upon the streets of this quiet village she had publicly insulted and maligned a Southern lady. ...” he told the approving crowd.
Little, who says she’s faced threats of violence and lynching, thinks that anecdote reveals the true purpose behind what Carr called “this noble gift of the United Daughters of the Confederacy.”
Little says the Daughters need to stop acting as if they’re the victims: “Being silent in the face of racism or violence is complicity in those acts.”
Little’s criminal vandalism trial is scheduled for October. In June, the UNC Office of Student Conduct charged her with violating the honor code by “stealing, destroying, or misusing property.”
Meaning Little could be expelled, while Silent Sam remains.
Activist Maya Little stands in May near the “Silent Sam” Confederate statue on campus at the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill. Little splashed the statue with a mixture of red ink and her own blood this past spring. “There is no Silent Sam without black blood, without violence towards black people,” she said recently.