Between Conservatism and Populism: The Cultural and Political History of Black America
After the last election, I found myself in numerous conversations—some anticipated, others unexpected. One exchange, however, stood out. It wasn’t in person but a text conversation with a young girl I’ve loved and cared for since she was five. Over the years, I’ve babysat her, watched her grow, and been part of her life in ways that made her feel like family.
She wrote, “I know we have different views on things.”
I paused, reading her words carefully. I chose not to address the comment directly in that moment, knowing that wasn’t where our conversation needed to go. Her statement didn’t surprise me, but it stayed with me long after. It reflected a common misconception—one that she, like many others, might not fully understand yet.
The truth is, we don’t have different views.
There’s a widespread belief that Black Americans, as a collective, are inherently liberal—that we all embrace broad, sweeping ideologies under a singular political umbrella. But the reality is far more complex.
As a Nigerian American and child of immigrants, I’ve seen firsthand how Black communities share a deep foundation of conservative values. Across generations and cultural backgrounds, many of us were raised in the church, grew up in households with strict expectations, and were taught principles deeply rooted in tradition and resilience.
But here’s the nuance: Black Americans often vote not for our conservative values, but for our rights and the collective good.
America’s history has taught us that before we can champion our cultural values, we must first secure our fundamental freedoms. This often means voting for policies and leaders who protect our humanity and the humanity of others—even when their platforms don’t fully align with the principles that guide our daily lives.
This exchange with a young woman reminded me of how misunderstood the Black community’s story often is. It’s not about contradictions—it’s about survival, pragmatism, and the complexities of navigating a system that hasn’t always worked in our favor.
The Conservatism of Black American Culture
Black American culture has been intertwined with the church since slavery, where it provided not only spiritual solace but also a foundation for communal strength. The Black church has played a central role in every major movement for justice in the United States, from the abolitionist movement to the civil rights era. Leaders such as Martin Luther King Jr. and Fannie Lou Hamer combined faith with activism, emphasizing moral responsibility, community solidarity, and the pursuit of justice—all principles that align with conservative values.
Social conservatism is also evident in the emphasis placed on education and personal responsibility within Black communities. Historically, schools like Tuskegee Institute and Howard University were established to provide educational opportunities for Black Americans, underscoring the community's dedication to self-improvement and academic excellence. Families stressed the importance of hard work and integrity as a pathway to dignity and upward mobility.
Across the African diaspora, conservatism is similarly ingrained. African nations often uphold traditional values regarding family, marriage, and faith. Countries like Nigeria and Ghana, for example, emphasize collective responsibility and religious devotion, both of which reflect values that Black Americans have inherited. These cultural legacies are part of why many Black Americans, regardless of political affiliation, uphold traditions rooted in family and faith.
The Destruction of Black Families and Communities
The systematic dismantling of Black families and communities has been a recurring theme in American history. During slavery, enslaved Africans resisted dehumanization by forming surrogate family structures and kinship networks. These communities provided emotional and practical support, helping enslaved people survive the brutal conditions they faced. However, enslavers frequently disrupted these bonds through forced separations, fearing that solidarity could lead to rebellion.
In the Reconstruction and Jim Crow eras, Black Americans built thriving communities despite systemic barriers. Cities like Tulsa, Oklahoma (home to Black Wall Street), and Durham, North Carolina, became symbols of Black economic independence. However, these successes were met with violent backlash, including massacres, discriminatory policies, and economic sabotage designed to suppress Black progress.
The mid-20th century brought new challenges. Urban renewal projects, often referred to as "Negro removal" by critics, destroyed many cohesive Black neighborhoods under the guise of modernization. Highways were built through vibrant communities, and redlining policies prevented Black families from building generational wealth through homeownership. These deliberate actions not only fractured neighborhoods but also weakened the economic and social fabric of Black communities.
A Tale of Two Cities and Destruction of Black Wealth
The Tulsa Race Massacre of 1921, one of the most devastating instances of racial violence in U.S. history, saw the Greenwood District, known as Black Wall Street, deliberately destroyed by mobs of white residents. The violence extended beyond arson, looting, and shootings. Eyewitness accounts and historical evidence reveal that airplanes, likely owned or hired by the white mob, dropped incendiary devices on Greenwood, effectively bombing the area and exacerbating the destruction.
Although these aircraft were not officially part of any government operation, they were used with tacit approval—or at least without intervention—from local authorities. The city's law enforcement and National Guard units often participated in or facilitated the violence, detaining Black residents en masse instead of protecting them. This allowed the mob to act unchecked, resulting in over 1,000 homes and businesses being destroyed, hundreds of deaths, and the complete decimation of what was once a thriving Black community.
This act of aerial bombing marked one of the first instances of such an attack on U.S. soil and underscored the lengths to which white supremacists would go to suppress Black progress. The devastation of Black Wall Street remains a symbol of systemic racism and the violent opposition to Black success in America.
Further information can be found through resources like the Greenwood Rising museum and detailed historical analyses by organizations preserving the legacy of this atrocity.
Durham, North Carolina, was once home to a vibrant and thriving Black community known as Black Wall Street, and it stood as a beacon of Black economic success in the early 20th century. The community boasted a strong network of Black-owned businesses, institutions, and professional services that provided opportunities for Black people in a society otherwise defined by systemic racial barriers.
A hallmark of this prosperity was the North Carolina Mutual Life Insurance Company, founded in 1899. It became one of the largest and most successful Black-owned businesses in the United States, providing life insurance to Black families who were excluded from many mainstream services due to racial discrimination. The company helped build financial stability within the Black community, creating jobs, ensuring economic security, and establishing a sense of pride. Over time, the company's success was joined by other influential institutions, including the Mechanics and Farmers Bank, which also became a vital pillar in Durham's Black economies financial institutions, Durham's Black Wall Street was home to numerous professional establishments such as law offices, newspapers, and medical practices. The community supported itself through a robust network of services, with thriving businesses in retail, hospitality, and entertainment. These institutions formed a self-sustaining ecosystem that helped foster both economic growth and cultural vibrancy within Durham's African American population.
However, despite this success, the stability of Black Wall Street began to erode due to urban renewal projects and discriminatory practices that targeted Black neighborhoods. In the mid-20th century, especially after World War II, the government began demolishing many Black-owned businesses and homes in the name of "urban development." These so-called renewal projects disproportionately affected Black communities, displacing hundreds of families and forcing the closure of numerous Black businesses. The government's interventions were often aimed at facilitating the expansion of white-owned businesses or infrastructure, while simultaneously undermining the economic power of Black communities.
Additionally, that plagued the nation continued to stifle the potential of Durham's Black community. Segregation policies limited access to education, employment opportunities, and public services for Black residents. Even though Black Wall Street had achieved remarkable success, systemic barriers like these continued to impede broader societal integration and equal opportunities for economic advancement .
The decline of Black Wall Street in not just an economic loss, but a cultural blow. Many of the businesses and institutions that once thrived were either forced to close or adapt to survive in an increasingly hostile environment. However, Durham’s legacy continues to inspire modern movements for Black economic empowerment and civil rights. The community's early success serves as a reminder of what Black Americans can achieve when given the opportunity to thrive, even in the face of overwhelming adversity.
For more detailed accounts of Durham's Black Wall Street and the impact of urban renewal on the community, you can explore resources such as the Durham Civil Rights Heritage Project and other historical archives dedicated to the city's African American history.
Crack Cocaine and Its Impact on Black Communities
The introduction of crack cocaine into Black communities in the 1980s is a complex and tragic chapter in U.S. history, deeply intertwined with the War on Drugs and the contrasting response to the opioid crisis. These two public health issues have highlighted stark disparities in how the U.S. government treats different drug epidemics, particularly regarding race and class.
The crack epidemic of the 1980s represented another devastating blow. While often depicted as an issue solely affecting impoverished inner cities, middle-class Black families were also deeply affected. Many had worked tirelessly to achieve upward mobility, only to see their progress undone by the proliferation of drugs and the punitive policies that followed. Mandatory minimum sentencing laws disproportionately targeted Black men, leading to mass incarceration and leaving many families without fathers or breadwinners.
Crack cocaine emerged in the 1980s as a more potent, smokable form of powdered cocaine. It was cheaper to produce and distribute, making it accessible to low-income urban areas, particularly within Black communities. Although crack had been around for a while, its use became widespread due to the availability of affordable, small doses. The CIA's involvement in the Nicaraguan Contra war has been suggested as a factor in the initial mass production of crack, with the drug being funneled into inner cities (a claim explored in the controversial Dark Alliance series by journalist Gary Webb) the CIA directly engineered its introduction, the availability of crack disproportionately affected Black neighborhoods already struggling with systemic poverty, unemployment, and disenfranchisement.
The War on Drugs, initiated by the Nixon administration and escalated under President Reagan in the 1980s, focused on punitive measures rather than public health interventions. Crack was criminalized aggressively, with harsh sentences for possession and distribution. This led to mass incarceration, particularly of Black men, despite evidence that crack use was actually more widespread among white Americans during this period. While Black people made up a significant portion of those arrested and incarcerated for crack-related offenses, white people were actually more likely to use crack at comparable rates. The racial disparity in arrests, and sentencing became a focal point of critiques against the War on Drugs.
The use of crack cocaine in the United States has been shaped by socioeconomic and racial dynamics, particularly due to disparities in law enforcement and sentencing policies. Although studies suggest that the majority of crack cocaine users have historically been white or Hispanic (comprising over 66% of users), the perception and media portrayal in the 1980s associated crack use heavily with Black communities. This perception led to disproportionate law enforcement focus and sentencing disparities, disproportionately affecting African Americans.
For example, federal sentencing guidelines established by the Anti-Drug Abuse Act of 1986 created a significant disparity in sentencing between crack and powder cocaine offenses. The law punished possession of 5 grams of crack cocaine with the same severity as 500 grams of powder cocaine, a 100-to-1 disparity. This policy primarily impacted Black communities, as crack cocaine was more accessible and cheaper than powder cocaine, which was more commonly used by affluent, often white individuals. Consequently, over 80% of those sentenced for federal crack offenses were Black, even though a majority of users were not.
These disparities have been criticized as exacerbating racial inequities in the criminal justice system, turning federal prisons into institutions disproportionately incarcerating African Americans for drug offenses. Efforts to reform these laws, including the 2010 Fair Sentencing Act, have reduced but not fully eliminated these disparities. If you’re interested in learning more about the historical context and reform efforts, you can explore resources like the ACLU's report on federal drug policy and its implications.
The War on Drugs vs. The Opioid Crisis
The government’s approach to the opioid crisis, which began to gain widespread attention in the 2000s, stands in stark contrast to its handling of the crack epidemic. The opioid crisis, largely affecting suburban and rural white populations, has been met with a public health response, including expanded treatment programs, harm reduction efforts, and a greater focus on addiction as a medical issue rather than a criminal one. The government and media have shifted from viewing addiction as a moral failing to recognizing it as a public health crisis that requires compassionate care.
Government Response and Racial Disparities
The difference in how the government has handled these drug crises is impossible to ignore. During the crack epidemic, Black communities were criminalized, their struggles met with harsh laws and mass incarceration. Meanwhile, the opioid crisis has sparked conversations about treatment, recovery, and the importance of rehabilitation over punishment. The media plays a huge role in this disparity, too—opioid users are often painted as "victims" of addiction needing compassion, a stark contrast to how Black individuals were demonized during the War on Drugs.
The Legacy of Crack and the War on Drugs
The consequences of the War on Drugs continue to resonate today, particularly in terms of mass incarceration and the disinvestment in Black communities. According to the ACLU, African Americans are incarcerated at more than five times the rate of white Americans, largely due to drug-related offenses . The crack cocaine sentencing disparity the 2012 Fair Sentencing Act of 2010, reduced the sentencing difference between crack and powder cocaine from 100:1 to 18:1. Even with this reform, the damage done to Black communities and families has been lasting and profound.
In summary, the introduction of crack cocaine into Black communities and the government's response through the War on Drugs exemplify the racially motivated, punitive nature of drug policy in the U.S. In contrast, the opioid crisis has been framed as a public health issue, with a focus on rehabilitation rather than incarceration. These differences in how the U.S. government has handled drug epidemics underscore deep racial inequities and the lasting impact of the War on Drugs on Black communities.
Black Conservatism vs. Democratic Voting Trends
Despite these challenges, Black Americans have maintained a strong cultural foundation rooted in conservatism. However, their voting patterns reflect a pragmatic approach to securing civil rights and addressing systemic inequalities.
The historical shift from Republican to Democratic loyalty occurred during the mid-20th century. While the Republican Party was once the party of Lincoln and emancipation, the Democratic Party began championing civil rights during the 1960s. Legislation such as the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965 cemented Black Americans' allegiance to Democrats, even as many maintained socially conservative values.
Issues like access to healthcare, education, and voting rights remain central to why Black Americans vote Democratic. The party's platform often aligns more closely with the needs of marginalized communities, even if its social policies conflict with the traditional values upheld by many Black voters.
The 19% of Black male voters who supported Donald Trump in recent polls primarily came from younger age groups. Black voters under 50 showed higher support for Trump, with 29% leaning towards him, compared to just 9% of Black voters aged 50 and older. This generational trend highlights that younger Black voters are more open to Republican candidates than older generations, continuing a pattern observed over recent decades.
The generational divide in political alignment among Black voters can be traced to differences in historical memory and educational exposure. For older Black Americans, the civil rights movements of the 1960s remain a vivid part of their lived experience, deeply shaping their alignment with progressive policies rooted in collective action and government intervention. In contrast, younger generations, often educated in a K-12 system where modern American history is inadequately taught, may lack the context to fully grasp the systemic barriers their predecessors faced. This absence of historical understanding can make Republican policies, emphasizing individualism and economic opportunity, appear more relevant to their aspirations.
This divide is further widened by the composition of today’s governing bodies, many of which are led by individuals shaped by the civil rights era. While their leadership offers invaluable firsthand knowledge, it may alienate younger voters who prioritize contemporary issues like technology, climate change, and modern social justice movements. As political discourse evolves, younger Black voters may gravitate toward Republican messaging that highlights entrepreneurship, financial independence, and reduced government intervention, particularly when progressive rhetoric fails to connect with their lived realities.
The lack of robust historical education exacerbates this trend, leaving younger voters less aware of how easily freedoms can be eroded and less likely to view progressive policies as essential safeguards against inequality. If progressives wish to engage this demographic, they must bridge the historical gap through targeted educational initiatives while addressing contemporary issues in a way that resonates with younger Black voters. At the same time, the Republican Party’s growing appeal among younger Black men underscores the need for a deeper understanding of the shifting cultural and political dynamics within this community.
Abortion and Demographics
Abortion remains a highly polarizing topic, yet the statistics reveal nuances that challenge common stereotypes, particularly around race. The Guttmacher Institute's data, showing that white women accounted for 30% of all abortions in 2021, compared to 29% for Black women and 30% for Hispanic women, counters the misconception that abortion disproportionately impacts Black communities. This misperception often fuels racialized narratives around abortion, which overlook that abortion rates among racial groups reflect broader structural issues more than individual choices. Specifically, the socio-economic and healthcare disparities affecting marginalized communities contribute significantly to unintended pregnancy rates and the need for reproductive healthcare services, including abortion.
The focus on abortion within Black communities often diverts attention from these deeper systemic barriers. For instance, Black women are disproportionately affected by limited access to quality healthcare, including preventative and maternal health services, compared to their white counterparts. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) notes that Black women face higher rates of unintended pregnancies, often due to limited access to contraceptives and reproductive health education. Economic inequality further complicates this issue, as individuals in lower-income communities—who are disproportionately people of color—face financial barriers that make access to contraceptive options more challenging. This structural inequity plays a substantial role in unintended pregnancy rates, influencing the reproductive choices available to women in marginalized communities.
Additionally, the persistent disparities in reproductive healthcare highlight the need for a more comprehensive approach to supporting Black families. Addressing systemic issues, such as expanding healthcare access, improving education on contraceptives, and reducing economic inequalities, would reduce unintended pregnancies and support reproductive autonomy. Advocating solely through a focus on abortion fails to address these root causes and reinforces the racialized framing that abortion is primarily a Black issue. By shifting the focus to address underlying inequalities, we can foster a more inclusive and effective approach to reproductive health and equity across communities.
Resilience and the Path Forward
Black conservatism is not about partisan politics but about cultural values that have enabled resilience in the face of oppression. The emphasis on family, faith, and education has been a guiding force for Black Americans throughout history, allowing them to navigate systemic challenges and build communities even under the harshest conditions.
However, to fully address the challenges facing Black communities today, there must be a reckoning with the systemic forces that have sought to undermine their cohesion. This means not only preserving cultural values but also advocating for policies that support economic opportunity, education, and healthcare access.
By recognizing the duality of Black American identity—culturally conservative yet politically pragmatic—society can better understand the complexities of a community that has long been underestimated and misunderstood.
