Birmingham, Ala. • Across the South, Confederate symbols are toppling, teetering or at least getting critical new looks. But is it a sign of real change in a region known for fiercely defending its complex traditions, or simply the work of frightened politicians and nervous corporate bean counters scrambling for cover in the wake of another white-on-black atrocity?
Probably a bit of both, says author Tracy Thompson. "But, so what?"
"I'm sure there's a lot of expedient backtracking going on," said Thompson, who wrote "The New Mind of the South." "If it's going in the right direction, who cares?"
One who does care is the Rev. Joseph Darby — a longtime friend of Clementa Pinckney, one of nine slain during a Bible study at a black church in Charleston, S.C. And he thinks it's a bit premature to declare this a new "New South," as some commentators have suggested.
"Taking down those flags is not that big a deal," he said of Gov. Nikki Haley's call to remove the Confederate battle flag from the statehouse lawn and Alabama Gov. Robert Bentley's order Wednesday to take down four rebel banners from a memorial at his capitol.
"There are a few other things on the agenda," Darby said, including improving public education and equal justice. But Darby, who has been fighting since 1999 to bring down the Confederate flag, said, "I think it's a first step that hopefully will lead to real change."
Still, even skeptics like Darby have to concede that the speed and geographic spread with which these developments have occurred are historic. Governors in Virginia and North Carolina say the battle flag should come off specialty license plates; Georgia has stopped issuing the plates, and a bill to do the same was introduced by a Tennessee legislator; Arkansas-based Wal-Mart vowed to stop selling all Confederate gear.
"One of the ways the South changes is through embarrassment, or through some incident," said Ferrel Guillory, an expert on Southern culture at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.
The June 17 massacre at Charleston's Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church, allegedly by self-described white supremacist Dylann Roof, was such an incident.
South Carolina legislators have voted to debate removing the flag from the statehouse grounds. But it's not down yet. Although the flag was taken down briefly by a protester who climbed the flagpole and was then arrested, it was soon raised again.
FILE - In this Saturday, June 27, 2015 file photo, Ashlynn McKeown, left, and her brother Daniel McKeown, of Georgiana, Ala., listen to speakers on the steps of the Alabama state capitol building in Montgomery, Ala. The rally was held by locals and members of several Southern heritage organizations who oppose the recent removal of Confederate flags from a monument at the capitol honoring Confederate Civil War soldiers. (AP Photo/Ron Harris, File)
FILE - In this Wednesday, May 10, 2000 file photo, Kevin Gray, of the Harriett Tubman Freedom House, watches as the Confederate flag burns during a demonstration in Columbia, S.C., to protest the Confederate flag flying atop the dome of the South Carolina Statehouse. On the left side was a Nazi flag which burned first. Across the South, Confederate symbols are toppling, teetering or at least getting critical new looks. But is it a sign of real change in a region known for defending its complex traditions, or simply the work of frightened politicians and nervous corporate bean counters scrambling for cover in the wake of another white-on-black atrocity? (AP Photo/Lou Krasky)
FILE - In this Sept. 3, 1957 file photo, Paul Davis Taylor holds a Confederate flag in front of Little Rock Central High School. Taylor was among some 500 people who gathered across the street from the school, which had been scheduled to integrate. Across the South, Confederate symbols are toppling, teetering or at least getting critical new looks. But is it a sign of real change in a region known for defending its complex traditions, or simply the work of frightened politicians and nervous corporate bean counters scrambling for cover in the wake of another white-on-black atrocity? (AP Photo)
FILE - In this Sept. 4, 1963 file photo, a demonstrator holding a Confederate flag is carried off by a police officer during melee at Ramsay High in Birmingham, Ala. The man was protesting integration of the school. Across the South, Confederate symbols are toppling, teetering or at least getting critical new looks. But is it a sign of real change in a region known for defending its complex traditions, or simply the work of frightened politicians and nervous corporate bean counters scrambling for cover in the wake of another white-on-black atrocity? (AP Photo/File)
FILE - In this Saturday, Feb. 19, 1983 file photo, anti-Klan demonstrators, right, heckle dozens of members of the Ku Klux Klan at the Texas Capitol in Austin following a short parade nearby. Four hours later, several anti-Klan groups staged a parade of their own. Across the South, Confederate symbols are toppling, teetering or at least getting critical new looks. But is it a sign of real change in a region known for defending its complex traditions, or simply the work of frightened politicians and nervous corporate bean counters scrambling for cover in the wake of another white-on-black atrocity? (AP Photo/Ted Powers)
FILE - In this Saturday, June 12, 2004 file photo, a mourner holds a Confederate flag as she waits in line to pay respects to Alberta Martin in Curtis, Ala. Martin, the last widow of a Civil War veteran, died May 31. Across the South, Confederate symbols are toppling, teetering or at least getting critical new looks. But is it a sign of real change in a region known for defending its complex traditions, or simply the work of frightened politicians and nervous corporate bean counters scrambling for cover in the wake of another white-on-black atrocity? (AP Photo/Haraz Ghanbari, File)
