By Red Nesbitt, Red Phoenix correspondent, Maryland.

The 1989 film Glory turns 34 years old this year, as the Battle of Fort Wagner, the climax of the movie, turns 160. In the milieu of tired, historical drama epics chasing after the tragic Great Man alongside franchise exhumations, it rewards the film-loving proletarian to turn an eye back to the cinematic classics of the not so distant past. Glory is a war drama following the real story of the 54th Massachusetts Infantry regiment of the Union Army in the American Civil War. This unit had the distinction of being one of the first official infantry units composed of Black soldiers under the United States Colored Troops (USCT). The 54th would serve with distinction in the South and would be involved in the Burning of Darien, the Battle of James Island and the Second Battle of Fort Wagner, during the Siege of Charleston, SC. The latter two battles would see half of the 54th reduced to casualties along with their commander, Col. Robert Shaw. Given their heroism in charging Fort Wagner and very nearly breaking the Confederate positions, President Lincoln authorized African American men to join the Union Army en masse, which led to nearly 200,000 fresh recruits, inspired by the example of the brave men of the 54th Massachusetts.

The release of Glory found itself placed in a very sensitive time in American history, as the Democratic primaries for the 1988 presidential election resulted in Jesse Jackson, an African American man with an incredibly progressive platform, receiving over 6 million votes in the primary, compared to Michael Dukakis’ 10 million. Nothing like this had been achieved in national American politics until this point in time. It was even commented on in the film with one character, the escaped slave, Tripp, saying he tried running for president before joining the army, but, “I didn’t win though.” Dukakis himself would lose the presidential election against George H. W. Bush, with a key point being the former’s “soft on crime” image. Of course Glory would be released just a couple of years before Bill Clinton and Senator Joe Biden’s crime bill that intensified mandatory minimums, took away college grants for prisoners, expanded the death penalty and built hundreds of new prisons, detention centers and juvenile correction facilities.

Given all of this political context, alongside other films such as Jacob’s Ladder and Shawshank Redemption (both starring progressive actor Tim Robbins), Glory represents a curious and valuable moment in American cinematic history that is critical of reactionary institutions, practices and individuals, but uplifting of a downtrodden “underdog” such as the traumatized Vietnam War veteran, the wrongfully convicted, and the brave men of the American Civil War — in particular the thousands of African Americans who brought it to a decisive close. In the time surrounding the release of these films, the working class was subject to all manner of reactionary horrors, such as the illegal dissolution of the USSR, the undermining of Albania, the Gulf War, the aforementioned 1994 crime bill, the murder of Rodney King in Los Angeles, and so much more. To be sure, we, the diverse and frustrated working class in this third decade of the 21st century, are also faced with the abyss of reaction, war, poverty and struggle. In this modern age of cultural monotony, it will behoove us to seek out art and literature that rallies, uplifts and steels us to fight the good fight to the full.

Glory follows Robert Gould Shaw, the son of a prominent Boston abolitionist family, and his journey through the early days of the Civil War. We are shown his struggle with post-traumatic stress following the Battle of Antietam, and his detachment from his affluent bourgeois family that in many ways approaches the war and abolition as a social outlet. When he is informed that Massachusetts is raising the first African American regiment, he is stunned to be offered its command as Colonel, and his peers express pity and expect him to reject what they see as an embarrassing command. Shaw, on the other hand, accepts with full conviction. Much of the film carries very little action, and explores instead the harsh dynamics that Black soldiers maneuvered through in this time. The scene in which Tripp, an escaped slave played brilliantly by Denzel Washington, is whipped for dereliction is absolutely heartbreaking, as he is revealed to already have scars on his back when his shirt is torn off. Consequently, morale at the camp of the 54th is low, especially as they, being a Black unit, are withheld necessary supplies like clean clothes and boots. Shaw, however, storms the office of the appropriate bureaucrat with his men, and secures their necessities. Of course, then as now, there is a grotesque wage gap for the Black men of the 54th compared to other white soldiers. As they begin tearing up their payment forms in protest, Shaw fires a shot in the air to settle the protest and declares, “If you men will not take payment… then none of us will!” as he himself tears up his own paycheck, to the cheers of the 54th. 

One of the most rousing moments of the film comes as Shaw informs the unit that the Confederate Congress released a proclamation that all Black soldiers captured in uniform will be summarily put to death, as will their white officers, and that discharges will therefore be granted for all soldiers wishing to leave. Shaw tells his second-in-command and best friend, “If you’re not here in the morning, I understand.” The scene progresses with a wistful, deflated score as the men reflect doubtfully overnight, and builds to a triumphant crescendo as Shaw steps outside his tent for assembly to see that the whole 54th Massachusetts is still present. 

All art is, for better or for worse, a product of its time and Glory is no exception. Even for such a rousing, accurate and groundbreaking film, the odor of liberalism still unfortunately seeps through at times in the plot. As the 54th is finally deployed to the South for action, they are horrified to see that contraband soldiers (units formed from escaped slaves) are accompanying them under the command of a radical abolitionist to sack and burn the town of Darien, Georgia. This act is portrayed as a solidly negative thing and there are, unfortunately, several racist stereotypes regarding the contraband soldiers who seize the opportunity to plunder and assault white civilians. The real figure Col. Shaw did protest this action and reported his superior for this act, but the film goes out of its way to condemn “excesses” against slavers, racists and rebels in war time. 

The climax of the film is the Second Battle of Fort Wagner, a key island bastion of the Confederate port of Charleston. After days of bombardment, the Fort still stands and the Union Army proposes a daring final assault to break through the supposedly weakened stronghold, for which Shaw volunteers. With perfect cinematic build-up the 54th charges Fort Wagner at nightfall, they reach the Confederate lines, and as they assault the first hill of the fort, Shaw is then shot dead rallying his men, along with the flag bearer. Tripp, who initially rejected carrying the flag at Shaw’s proposal, grabs the flag and shouts the unit forward as he, too, is shot and falls next to Shaw. The remaining men charge and break through the Confederate trenches in one of the best practical battles put to film in modern cinema. However, the Confederates turn their artillery in the fort on the 54th as they breach the outer wall and the battle ends in smoke. We open to Shaw and his men being thrown together in one mass grave as an indignantly somber score carries us to the pre-credit, which informs us that although the fort was never taken, the brave attack of the 54th Massachusetts compelled Congress to remove all barriers to the formation of Black units and nearly 200,000 African American soldiers enlisted into the Union Army, where President Lincoln was forced to admit that they had turned the tide of the war. 

As previously mentioned, Glory is not without its problems, but they are all absolutely outshone by the sheer fact that, for once, the story of African American people in the Civil War was platformed, largely without stereotypes, with an honest display of the diversity of Black workers, escaped slaves, and even more educated, middle-class freedmen. Historians even dispute whether African Canadian men joined the 54th. Because the contemporary records are tarnished by archaic methods and biases, the story of many of these men cannot be fully known to us today. Technically the film is stunning, with elaborate practical effects, intimate cinematography and outstanding casting with Matthew Broderick and Cary Elwes playing the white officers, and Morgan Freeman, Andre Braugher, and Denzel Washington standing out amongst the soldiers of the 54th. One of the most important themes carried in the film is the deconstruction of the “white savior” trope, the time-honored cinematic plot device of a well-placed white character coming to the rescue of a diverse mob of people. In Glory, Shaw encouraged the agency of his men, listened to their demands, joined them in protest of the Union’s racist policies regarding Black soldiers (softened somewhat considering his family’s wealth), and joined with them in common risk of death, or even capture, despite assuring all of discharges without shame. In the end, Shaw’s death — his sacrifice — is hollow. He saves no one, the battle is lost, and half the 54th are killed. Yet the manner of his death and those of the men he rallied inspired hundreds of thousands of others to surge into the war for the defeat of the Confederacy. More than a patronizing white man’s burden, there is genuine solidarity, respect and enfranchisement in the dynamic between Shaw and his men. Unfortunately, all of the African American soldiers are fictional characters in a real unit, made up of clerks, dockworkers, and escaped slaves, whose names go unsung in a nation where today, the same and worse right-wing horror barges into public life with an awful noise.

For those whose names we do know and those lost to us, their stories MUST be told, and for stories like Glory, we must listen. Professor Michael Parenti, commenting on the class struggle of antiquity, and how we may never know all of the heroes and underdogs of this past, said we must remember that they were people, who had fears, wants, and interests — much akin to ourselves, struggling in our own way to survive and struggle for liberation. Indeed, “we are they.” Consequently, such films as Glory that tell the stories of our forebears drive us forward with the notion that, against slavery and against capitalism, then as now, “The oppressed must free ourselves.”

Categories: Media & Culture, Movies