Blacks Found the Road to Capitol an ‘Up-Hill’ Climb : History: Smithsonian honors those who fought prejudice, vigilantes and inexperience in their battle for representation.

When John Conyers Jr., a Michigan Democrat, was elected to the House of Representatives in 1964, he was one of only five blacks serving in the U.S. Congress. “When I first arrived in Washington,” Conyers recalled, “Adam Clayton Powell told me the House restaurant did not serve blacks when he first came to Congress (in 1945). That wasn’t long ago, really. Things were different by the time I was sworn in.”

Powell challenged the “whites only” rule by taking black constituents to the restaurant and ordering his staff to eat there--even if they weren’t hungry.

Twenty-six blacks now serve in the House. Conyers, a founding member of the Congressional Black Caucus, a body devoted to strengthening legislative concerns of minorities, predicts that more blacks will be elected next term as a result of redistricting. One of the goals of the caucus, he said, “is to integrate the U.S. Senate.”

Indeed, there has been only one black senator in this century. And during a nearly 30-year period--from 1901 to 1929--no blacks served in Congress.

But between 1870 and 1897--after the 13th, 14th and 15th amendments had freed the slaves and granted them citizenship and the right to vote--Southern states elected 22 black men to Congress. Some were former slaves. All were members of the Republican party. Their stories, and the stories of 20th-Century blacks in Congress, are being told in a show organized by the Smithsonian Institution.

“The Long Road Up the Hill”--the exhibit that will travel through the United States from February to July--is an appropriate image for the story of black representation in Congress. It would not stretch the metaphor to discuss the twists and turns, detours and roadblocks many blacks faced during campaigns and at polling places throughout this country’s history.

“Those African-Americans didn’t just put down their hoes and march up to Capitol Hill,” said Lillian E. Grandy, the exhibit’s curator. “Like their white colleagues, many were trained as lawyers, teachers, ministers and farmers. Some had gained political experience as local and state government officials.”

Grandy, a retired exhibits information specialist at the National Archives and Record Administration, said that the journey to Congress was sometimes dangerous. “The status of many of those first elections was often challenged, and it wasn’t unheard of for the black candidates’ supporters to be threatened--even murdered,” she said. “Once elected, the congressmen often faced harassment and intimidation.”

In 1870, the Rev. Hiram Revels of Mississippi was appointed to fill Confederate President Jefferson Davis’ unexpired Senate term, becoming the first black to serve in the Senate.

That same year, Joseph Rainey of South Carolina was sworn into office in the House of Representatives; Jefferson Long of Georgia was sworn into the House one month later. Rainey served five terms, often speaking in favor of legislation outlawing racial discrimination in juries, schools, public accommodations and transportation.

Many of the early black congressmen introduced bills calling for education and land ownership for all and removal of cotton taxes. Most of those bills died in committee because their sponsors often lacked political savvy, experience, and the support of their white colleagues.

During the chaotic Reconstruction, defeated white politicians disputed the elections of blacks to Congress 21 times. Congressmen whose elections were challenged often were not sworn in until a House committee had reviewed the evidence and found in their favor. “Several black lawmakers were not seated for many months. Some were not sworn in until a short time before the end of their terms,” Grandy said. “Two duly elected congressmen were never seated.”

George Henry White, the last former slave to serve in Congress, took the oath of office in March, 1897. In his farewell speech, White noted that his departure in 1901 would leave Congress without any black representatives. “These parting words,” he said, “are in behalf of an outraged, heartbroken, bruised and bleeding but God-fearing people . . .” He predicted that one day black lawmakers would return to Congress.

But that wouldn’t happen for another 28 years. The road abruptly had come to a dead-end. By the turn of the century, state laws and voter intimidation had virtually eliminated the black vote in the South. “After Reconstruction, white Southern politicians began systematically to eliminate minority voters,” said Keith Melder, a curator at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History.

“They used several methods, including literacy tests, where people were required to read and interpret arcane documents before being allowed to vote,” he said. “ ‘Grandfather clauses’ prohibited people from voting unless their grandfathers voted, keeping freed slaves from casting ballots. And poll taxes kept poor people--blacks and whites alike--from voting.”

In addition, the lynchings continued--even flourished--in many Southern states. The Mississippi Valley and Georgia had the densest concentration of lynchings from 1900 to 1930.

During this period, hundreds of thousands of Southern blacks migrated to cities in the North and Midwest, resulting in predominantly black neighborhoods in such cities as Philadelphia, New York and Chicago.

In 1928, the election of Oscar de Priest to the House of Representatives reopened the road to the Capitol for blacks. A Republican from Chicago, he was the first black elected to Congress from outside the South. De Priest’s arrival in segregated Washington created a stir. Two Southern colleagues refused offices adjacent to De Priest’s. When Mrs. Herbert Hoover invited Mrs. De Priest to a White House tea, a black woman as a guest sent shock waves throughout the South.

Dissatisfaction with Republican response to the Depression combined with an interest in President Roosevelt’s New Deal persuaded many blacks to abandon the party of Abraham Lincoln and join the ranks of Democrats. In 1934, Arthur Mitchell defeated De Priest, becoming the first black Democrat elected to Congress.

Twentieth-Century black politicians have differed significantly from their predecessors. Most have been Democrats, most have been college educated. In 1966, Edward Brooke (R-Mass.) was the first black elected by popular vote to the Senate. More than half a dozen House members have been women. One of their ranks, Shirley Chisholm (D-N.Y.) was the first woman candidate for president.

Chisholm has been quoted as saying, “Of my two handicaps, being female put many more obstacles in my path than being black.” Former congresswoman Barbara Jordan (D-Tex.) says that when she was elected in 1973, “there was still a sense of novelty about women--and black women--being in Congress. But I did not encounter difficulties or discrimination based on race or sex that I could detect.” Jordan gained national recognition during the televised House Judiciary Committee’s hearings on the possible impeachment of President Richard M. Nixon.

As blacks became established in Congress, their interests and concerns expanded. Many black representatives have been reelected often enough to attain seniority and powerful leadership positions. Michigan’s Conyers, the senior elected black official in America is serving his 13th term as chairman of the Committee on Government Operations. He also sits on several other prominent committees and subcommittees.

Many black lawmakers have become advocates for education, social issues, health care and economic development, as well as fighting apartheid and world hunger.

From 1870 until 1991, 74 blacks have served in Congress. The road seems to have become smoother and broader. But Conyers cautions against possible detours. “Race and politics still have a long way to go in America,” he said. “It’s clear to me that many people are moving beyond racial stereotypes, but those stereotypes still do exist.”