In 1964, black people in Mississippi launched a vast movement to break the barriers put in place by the state to prevent them from voting. Freedom Summer marked a turning point in the history of civil rights in the United States. But 40 years later, this fight has still not been won. Travel to a state where, even in 2024, democracy comes up against old racial barriers.
Summer hasn’t started yet, but already the heat is taking its toll in Jackson, the capital of Mississippi. Tariq Abdul-Tawwab, a community organizer with the People’s Advocacy Institute, which fights for social justice, assembles his small team. “Everyone in the car,” says the elderly man in his fifties.
On this Saturday afternoon in June, Tariq and his three “young interns” are preparing to go door to door. With informative leaflets under their arms, the group wants to make black citizens aware of the phenomenon of “purges”, by which the State removes the names of “inactive” citizens from the electoral rolls, because they did not vote in the last elections, or because they changed their address.
“Some people don’t even know that they have been removed from the lists and sometimes only realize it on the day of the vote”, when it is too late, denounces Tariq.
On the road through the districts of the capital, misery rubs shoulders with the ordinary. Here, one in four people live below the poverty line. Abandoned houses and dilapidated infrastructure line one after the other, just a few miles from the majestic State Capitol.
“There is a chronic lack of investment from the government. And this is no coincidence in a city where the overwhelming majority of the population is black,” believes Tariq.
Barely out of the car, the imposing man orders his small team to turn back. “There is a pack of stray dogs. Be careful,” he warns. For safety reasons, the group resigns itself to restricting its scope of action that day.
The few residents we meet on the steps seem fearful. Some barely open their doors. When no one answers, the young people just slip their brochures into the mailboxes.
“People don’t see changes even if they vote,” laments Tariq. For the last twenty years, election after election, the Republicans have won in this state, even though 40% of it is African-American – an electoral base strongly won by the Democratic Party.
Barriers to voting
In his office in the small town of Hazelhurst, south of Jackson, lawyer Carroll Rhodes is swamped with files of discriminatory electoral practices. “I would like to retire. But I can’t. There’s still too much work,” says the septuagenarian with a mischievous look, laughing.
Since the beginning of his career, Carroll Rhodes has specialized in civil rights and voting rights in Mississippi. He also works with the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) — one of the oldest and most influential civil rights organizations, which was crucial during Freedom Summer.
“In more than forty years of practice, I have seen files change. I have also seen the law change,” says the lawyer. As in 2013, with the shutdown Shelby County v. Holder.
Until then, the Voting Rights Act of 1965 required that Mississippi, like other states with a history of racial discrimination, obtain federal permission to move forward with changes to their voting procedures. However, citing the progress made in racial equality, the judges of the Supreme Court lifted this prerequisite.
“This is the biggest setback for democracy that we have ever seen in this country,” says Carroll Rhodes gravely. Since that ruling, Mississippi has tightened its requirements, requiring its voters to present photo identification to be able to vote. An obligation that disqualifies minorities disproportionately, several studies have shown.
Mississippi is also one of a handful of American states that strips citizens who have committed certain felonies from voting rights for life. In Mississippi, one in six blacks can no longer vote because of this provision, which, again, affects minorities more.
And even when they can vote, the political weight of blacks is “diluted because of gerrymandering », a technique for dividing districts along partisan lines, underlines Carroll Rhodes. At the beginning of July, a federal court ordered Mississippi to redraw its legislative maps in several regions, after concluding that they diluted the electoral power of black people.
“Those in positions of power have remained the same in Mississippi. Before, they expressed more openly what they really thought: that black people did not deserve the right to vote and did not deserve the right to exercise official functions,” describes Carroll Rhodes.
However, as civil rights groups filed complaints over the years, voting practices that discriminated against blacks became “more subtle,” observes the lawyer. They have sophisticated their approach. They use flowery language. For example, they want to “preserve the integrity of elections.”
“Today, the state even takes credit for the work done by civil rights organizations. Mississippi has more black elected officials than any other state, more majority-black neighborhoods than anywhere else… It’s not thanks to the state. It’s because we sued and won in court,” protests Carroll Rhodes.
Inherited voting rights
The obstacles plaguing black voters add to a host of problems that fuel political disengagement and cynicism, says community organizer Tariq Abdul-Tawwab. “There is poverty, violence, lack of information,” lists his deputy Keondin Perry, alias “KP”.
The burly young man is wearing a sweater emblazoned with the slogan “ Black Voters Matter “, black voters matter. “I think that says it all,” he sums up. The twenty-year-old would like to change things, both in the streets of the capital and at the meetings of the Municipal Council, which he attends to observe how decisions are made there on a daily basis. “I always wanted to be part of the solution, I want to understand these things. »
“One of my main goals is to speak to a larger audience to have a greater impact,” says the man who dreams of becoming a municipal councilor, or perhaps even mayor one day. “You have to start somewhere, and that’s where I am. »
Among those around him, KP notices a lack of interest in voting and politics in general. “Young people can’t see how it influences them and they don’t do research. So it’s not really important to them, at least not as much as it should be. »
Coming from a red-light district of the capital and having himself lost his father in wars between gangs, he hopes to be able to join a section of the black population that he believes to be neglected. “I work hard for my community. I am a reflection of my environment, I too come from here, so I can better understand their concerns, help them and get them to be more involved in turn. »
Tariq Abdul-Tawwab, for his part, hopes that the lessons and message of “Freedom Summer” will be transmitted in a timely enough way to have a real resonance in this summer of an election year. “If we celebrate the work that was done in the 1960s without connection to the present, it will have no impact. Especially not among young people who are kept aside, election after election. »
“It’s like a will,” explains Tariq. I tell people: your parents, your grandparents left you the right to vote. It’s your decision to do with it what you want. But realize that right now, that right is being taken away from you. »
This report was financed thanks to the support of the Transat-International Journalism Fund.The Duty.