The story of the Civil Rights Act would stun us today | Opinion

July 2 marked the 60th anniversary of the passage of the 1964 Civil Rights Act — perhaps the most consequential statute in American history — outlawing discrimination in public accommodations and facilities, in education and employment.

Ironically, the destructive U.S. Supreme Court decision in the Trump immunity case was handed down only the day before the anniversary. History travels in curious directions.

Speaking in 2014 about the impact of the Civil Rights Act, then-Congressman John Lewis recalled it as: “a time when people were arrested and taken to jail just for sitting beside each other on the bus. It was against the law for black and white people to ride in the same taxicab or stay in the same hotel. People’s home were bombed. Their lives were threatened for taking a simple drink from the same water fountain... And when people said nothing had changed, I said, come and walk in my shoes and I will show you change.”

Ruth Bader Ginsburg similarly reminded: “When I graduated from law school in 1959 there was no Title VII (of the Civil Rights Act). Legal employers were perfectly up front in saying ‘we’re not interested in hiring women.’ The usual excuse was ‘we had a woman once and she was dreadful.’ My answer would be, ‘and how many men have you had that didn’t work out.’ Title VII (of the Civil Rights Act) stopped all that.”

No wonder Project 2025 — the plan by former and possible future Trump administration leaders to remake America — seeks to amend and repeal some of the most important provisions of the Civil Rights Act.

The 1964 statute’s enactment, in many ways, stuns today’s reader.

First, there was its ambition. My students no longer expect that legislatures might do something huge, something larger than themselves and their momentary prospects, something nation-defining. Much less taking up what Lyndon Johnson would term “the unending search for justice within our borders.” Or that some lawmakers, or even many, would do so out of obligation, duty — recognizing that personal costs would follow. Another era.

Second, and equally surprising, that lawmakers would sometimes carry out that work on a bipartisan basis. The Civil Rights Act’s famed 75-day filibuster was broken on a 71-29 vote, 27 Republicans supporting cloture. The bill passed 290-130 in the House, relying heavily on Republicans to overcome the intense opposition of southern Democrats.

Republican Senate Minority Leader Everett Dirksen cast his vote saying: this act must pass “if we are to honor the pledges we made when we...took an oath to...to carry out the Constitution.” And that noble sentiment was uttered only after Lyndon Johnson had pressed his fingers to Dirksen’s chest saying: “Everett, you come with me on this bill and 200 years from now, school children in Illinois will know only two names: Abraham Lincoln and Everett Dirksen.” The Johnson treatment.

Third, heroic work on the statute’s behalf was, no doubt, done by Johnson, Dirksen, Robert Kennedy and other noted political leaders. But many of the most crucial efforts came from folks outside government. Civil rights leaders, of course, led national crusades. But, more surprising, labor unions pressed mightily for passage — the UAW, AFL-CIO, steelworkers, United Packinghouse Workers of America, the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters.

And, most amazing, the churches. The massive National Council of Churches, the Synagogue Council of America, the National Catholic Welfare Conference. Sen. Richard Russell complained bitterly that segregationists could have sustained the filibuster but for interference from churches back home in folks’ districts.

And finally, there was the act’s profound moral clarity. President Johnson signed it saying: “We believe that all men are created equal. Yet many are denied equal treatment. The reasons (for this) are deeply embedded in history... But it cannot continue. Our Constitution...forbids it. The principals of our freedom forbid it. Morality forbids it. And the law I will sign tonight forbids it.”

Contributing columnist Gene Nichol is a professor of law at the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill.