If you’ve ever walked across the front of the historic Horseshoe on your way to class or to catch a shuttle, you’ve passed the source of one of Columbia's most recent political disputes.
Historical marker 40-27 chronicles the history of the University of South Carolina as told by Richland County residents from nearly 70 years ago, who, some would argue, attempted to drag a blanket of racism over one of the nation’s largest research institutions.
Here’s the text, reproduced in full:
University of South Carolina
Chartered 1801 as the S.C. College, opened January 10, 1805. Entire student body volunteered for Confederate service 1861. Soldiers' Hospital 1862-65. Rechartered as U. of S.C. 1865. Radical control 1873-77. Closed 1877-80. College of Agriculture and Mechanic Arts 1880-82. S.C. College 1882-87. U. of S.C. 1887-90. S.C. College 1890-1905. U. of S.C. 1906.
Faithful index to the ambitions and fortunes of the state.
Erected 1938 by the Columbia Sesquicentennial Commission of 1936.
You're probably thinking, "What’s the big deal? It’s a historical marker. There are hundreds of these things in every corner of the state. And this particular installation doesn’t look like a pronounced form of bigotry."
The problem is that this immovable metal slab is but one version of history. Moreover, it's one version that is deemed "faithful ... to the ambitions and fortunes of the state."
And what exactly was the Columbia Sesquicentennial Commission of 1936? A sesquicentennial is the 150th anniversary of an event. (Think, bicentennial, but take away fifty years and add a Q.) In this case, the committee commemorated South Carolina’s vote to relocate the capitol from Charleston to Columbia in 1786.
This transplant — for those of you who never took South Carolina history — was so the state’s seat of power was more centrally located. According to the official State House website, this shift made it so wealthy Charlestonians and upcountry farmers had to travel the same distance to make their case before the legislature.
Seems like a pleasant thing to commemorate, so what’s the issue here? It’s that little sentence right in the center there. See it?
“Radical control 1873-77.”
These are the years following the Civil War, when carpetbaggers and New England intellectuals migrated southward into a decimated Dixieland to reconstruct a more forward-thinking, united nation according to Dr. Walter Edgar, the foremost historian on South Carolina history.
This was seen as a slap in the face for many southerners who remained as steadfast in their beliefs as they did before the war. (Think Scarlett O’Hara. That old belle just never gives up.) For these people, Reconstruction was a filthy word.
On USC’s campus any professor or student who hadn’t died for their cause (“Entire student body volunteered for Confederate service”) made the decision to leave the university which, in 1873, fell under Republican rule and became one of the first institutions in the South to accept African-American students. Southerners were not happy.
Oh, controversy, there you are.
For a university that had once been called (by the infamous Ben Tillman) the seedbed of the aristocracy, the admittance of African-Americans was a bitter blow.
Calling this temporary period of equality “radical” (a word as dirty as "reconstruction" at the turn of the century) was a purposeful jibe at a forward attempt to create an immediate sense of change following the war. And to call this prejudice "faithful" to the motivations of the state creates an enduring, albeit false, racist political and social motivation.
And for African-Americans who did attend school in these short years, the difference between ante- and postbellum Carolina was immense. Though enrollment numbers dropped, black attendance rose to 90 percent until 1877 when the entire school shut down.
The majority of that percentage attended preparatory department, having lacked the prior schooling to prepare them for college courses.
Several of these students went on to become political advocates who are featured in South Carolina history, according to Dr. Ehren Foley of the State Historic Preservation Office.
In 2014, it was proposed that the marker be changed in order to reflect the more advanced, less humiliatingly racist atmosphere in Columbia and on campus.
However, many have made the case that this plaque not only commemorates the history of the university, but also captures the surviving remnants of resentment held by the 1936 commission.
In that case, the plaque itself belongs in a museum.
Either way, the space between 1873-1877 framed a pathway for opportunity that lead and still leads into the future, despite whatever phrase is used to characterize it.
So, preserve the past or change the future? It may very well be the student voice that decides.