完形填空：特朗普、里根、尼克松都是（ ______ ）？

《大西洋月刊》月31日刊登蒂姆·纳夫塔利文章《里根与尼克松长期不为人知的种族主义对话》

文：Tim Naftali

译：刘倩藜

1971年10月25日，联合国大会投票承认中华人民共和国政府的代表为中国在联合国组织的唯一合法代表。第二天，美国总统理查德•尼克松（译注：美国第37任总统）就在白宫接到了加州州长罗纳德•里根（译注：美国第40任总统）的电话, 后者在通话里发泄他对站在美国对立面的非洲代表们的不满。里根说：“昨晚，我不是叫你在电视上看那件事嘛……”尼克松应了一句：“看了。”里根接着抱怨：“看看那些从非洲国家来的猴子们，真该死，他们还没有习惯穿鞋子！”听完，尼克松哈哈大笑。

就在上个月，美国总统发表的种族主义言论又成了新闻头条。尼克松和里根之间的那场对话提醒我们，历史上其他美国总统也持有种族主义观念，认为非洲人或非裔美国人在某种意义上就是低人一等。特朗普的“创新”之处不在于他说了那些话，而在于他公然让这种言论登上了台面。

尼克松把他和里根的通话录了下来，这些录音后来由尼克松总统图书馆负责收藏。我本人曾于2007-2011年担任该图书馆馆长。2000年，当美国国家档案馆首次公开当日通话录音时，出于保护里根隐私的考虑，其中种族主义的部分被抹掉了。法院指令要求按照时间顺序复查这些录音，该项工作2013年便完成了。但直到2017、2018年左右，国家档案馆才对尼克松早年的录音开始全面复查。里根已于2004年过世，不再存在隐私问题。去年，我以研究人员的身份，要求再次复查尼克松与里根的对话。就在两周之前，国家档案馆网站公布了1971年10月尼克松与里根对话的完整版。

1971年，当联合国投票决定由北京代表团而非台湾代表团代表中国时，联合国大会现场的坦桑尼亚代表开始手舞足蹈。作为台湾坚定的支持者，怒气冲冲的里根当晚就试图致电联系尼克松。里根鄙视联合国，他曾把联合国称作“蠢货们私设的袋鼠法庭”，并希望美国立即停止全面参与联合国事务。但当里根打电话时，尼克松已经睡着了，所以他们第二天早上才通上电话。

里根侮辱非洲代表的言论刚好触碰到了尼克松的痛处。当天早些时候，尼克松打电话要求国家安全事务助理亚历山大·黑格取消他与投票中没跟着美国挺台湾的非洲领导人的见面，哪怕日程已经安排好。尼克松说：“不要因为我们事先接受了会见邀约，现在就说推不掉，这种话不要跟我汇报，”他疾声厉色地说：“直接推掉，就说到时候我不在。”

事实上，尼克松把投票落败归咎于非洲国家驻联合国代表团，还真把火撒错了对象。美国国务院认为导致投票失利的主因不是非洲国家，而是包括英法在背后操纵等其他原因。但尼克松不接受这些理由，坚持认为非洲人才是“罪魁祸首”。

如果故事到这里就结束了，那它——还是一件很糟糕的事——哪怕是发泄情绪，种族主义就是种族主义。但接下来的故事说明，只要有人推动，种族主义在美国仍然是一股活跃的力量。尼克松把里根的来电作为借口，并借用里根的话向他人表述同样的观点。他刚挂掉里根的电话，就找来了国务卿威廉•罗杰斯。

尽管里根打电话给尼克松是想敦促他退出联合国，但在尼克松的转述里，里根这通电话的主要目的成了抱怨非洲人。

尼克松对罗杰斯推心置腹地说：“你可以想象，有种强烈的感受，觉得我们不应该，（里根）说，他昨晚在电视上看到这些，他说，他看到这些……”尼克松结巴了一下，小心翼翼地拿捏措辞：“这些，额，这些食人族的时候，他说，‘上帝啊，他们连鞋都没穿，而联合国竟要听命于这个现实了，'诸如此类的话。”

尼克松想让身为上流精英的罗杰斯了解到，里根是在为那些种族主义的美国人发声，而且这些人的声音应被聆听。“你知道，这属于比较典型的反应，可能有点……”罗杰斯插话道：“的确，有点强烈。”

尼克松似乎停不下来，一遍又一遍转述里根的话。他似乎有点心不在焉，两小时后又找罗杰斯谈话，再把故事重复了一遍，仿佛在跟国务卿说一件新鲜事。

尼克松说：“里根昨晚打电话来，但我直到今天早上才跟他通上话。他显然已经气坏了。我了解了一下他为什么这么生气，发现这种怒气很多人都有。他们都在电视上了，他说‘这些食人族上蹿下跳。’这番景象看起来确实挺怪诞的。”罗杰斯和尼克松一样，也没看过电视转播画面，但他却附和说：“这看起来确实挺可怕的。”尼克松补充道：“他们还欢呼起来。”

接着，尼克松说：“他（里根）肯定觉得特别倒胃，才打电话给我。然后他说，‘那场面真的很可怕。'而且这种画面肯定会影响人们的情绪……据他（里根）说，‘这些连鞋都还没穿上的人，居然就踩到美国头上来了'……他们觉得这件事真是太可怕了。”

尼克松不认为自己是种族主义者，或许这也是为什么他必须不断引述里根的种族主义言论，而避免直接表达自己的情绪。但里根对非洲代表的评论引起了尼克松的共鸣，因为这些言论折射出后者对非裔美国人扭曲的看法。

1971年秋天，尼克松政府一边推动大规模福利改革，一边试图阻挠反种族隔离的校车制。很明显，这两件事激发尼克松更深刻地检视自己关于非裔美国人究竟能否融入美国社会的观念。在和里根通话的三周之前，尼克松在与哈佛大学教授丹尼尔·帕特里克·莫伊尼汉对话时表露了他对非洲人和非裔美国人的观点。尼克松深受心理学家理查德·赫恩斯坦和亚瑟·詹森的理论吸引，他们将智商与种族联系在一起。尼克松想知道莫伊尼汉怎么看这个问题。

尼克松对沉默的莫伊尼汉说：“至少从当前摆在我面前的证据来看，我不得不说，赫恩斯坦以及更早的詹森，他们的说法可能……非常接近真相。”尼克松相信种族之间有等级高下之分，白人和亚洲人远比非洲和拉丁人种优越。而且尼克松说服自己，只要怀着家长式的心态来看待黑人，那么认为黑人族群（而不针对个体）比白人低劣并不属于种族主义。尼克松说：“族群内部都是有天才的。在黑人族群内部有天才。但，亚洲族群内部天才更多……这种事情还是不知道比知道好。”

尼克松对于非洲领导人的分析反映了他对美国黑人的偏见。他亲口对莫伊尼汉说：“记住一个事实：不知你有没有注意到，联合国40个还是45个黑人国家里，没有一个总统或总理是通过竞争性选举上台的，就像我们坚持让越南遵循的选举方式。”在那次对话中，他后来还说：“我不是说黑人不懂治理，我是说他们有大把时间证明自己，现在总得拿出点像样的东西来吧。”

五十年过去了，我们应当记住的一个事实，那就是我们国家的一把手曾认为美国有色人种公民低人一等。尼克松曾向他的智囊莫伊尼汉吐露他对非裔美国人智商研究感兴趣的原因：“我之所以要了解这件事，是因为我在推行政策时，必须知道他们有根本性的弱点。”

从林林总总的录音中可以清晰地得出结论，美国第37任总统尼克松是个种族主义者：他坚信应按种族来把人区分对待；种族意味着人类个体之间最根本的区别。尼克松的种族主义与今天的我们仍然有关，因为他对种族的观念塑造了美国内政外交的重大决策。我们需要透过种族主义滤镜看待他的政策。

第40任总统里根并未留下太多有关他私人观点的记录。里根的种族主义似乎仅体现在他和尼克松的那一次通话中，他个人日记从来没有记录。但是，他那番关于非洲代表团的评论，可以帮助我们理解1970年代他为如此坚决地为实行种族隔离政策的罗德西亚（译注：现津巴布韦）和南非辩护。福特政府曾拒绝支持罗德西亚由白人少数派治理，而里根在1976年的总统初选阶段对福特的政策公开表示反对，他在得克萨斯州竞选活动上说：“我们似乎开始了一项向非洲南部人民发号指令的政策，而且是冒着暴力和流血事件升级的风险。”

这些新公布的录音提醒我们，美国历任总统的公开说辞背后往往潜伏着种族主义。当我撰写肯尼迪总统传记时，我发现肯尼迪并不受此类种族主义鼓动。的确是这样，肯尼迪早期甚至甘冒政治风险去帮助非洲领导人，其中最为人所知的包括埃及总统贾迈勒·阿卜杜尔·纳赛尔和加纳总统克瓦米·恩克鲁玛。但他不愿让非裔美国人更快获得更多权利，这可能与他带到白宫的家长式做派密不可分，也可能与他的波士顿心腹圈对黑人所抱的成见有关。

至少肯尼迪在任上清楚地认识到，从道德层面来看，确保所有公民享有民权势在必行。相比之下，特朗普反映出美国社会消散不去的病症，它时而深入骨髓、隐而不发，时而浮于皮表，狂热焦灼。他对他自己的行为承担责任，但他语句里那些比喻和措辞，那种笨拙的欲盖弥彰，以及那些被他和他的死忠粉们当作美国思想的社会糟粕，都有着丑恶的根源。这不是美国传统的核心所在，毕竟，美国的强大与成功都离不开我们超越自身的狭隘。但话虽如此，种族主义仍然是美国文化中不可逃避的一部分。

尼克松认为非洲人天生低劣的观念一直没有改变。1971年10月底，他和好友贝贝•雷博佐再次谈起联合国的那场投票。贝贝顺着里根的话往下说，引得尼克松非常开心，他说：“他们在电视上的反应，证明他们其实应该用尾巴倒挂在树上。”尼克松乐得哈哈大笑。

尽管今天特朗普不再把有色人种说成是动物，但他的言论在本质上没有区别。与尼克松不同的是，特朗普觉得不需要躲在别人后面，当他人为自己的种族主义当挡箭牌。

Ronald Reagan's Long-hidden Conversation with Richard Nixon

The day after the United Nations voted to recognize the People’s Republic of China, then–California Governor Ronald Reagan phoned President Richard Nixon at the White House and vented his frustration at the delegates who had sided against the United States. “Last night, I tell you, to watch that thing on television as I did,” Reagan said. “Yeah,” Nixon interjected. Reagan forged ahead with his complaint: “To see those, those monkeys from those African countries—damn them, they’re still uncomfortable wearing shoes!” Nixon gave a huge laugh.

The past month has brought presidential racism back into the headlines. This October 1971 exchange between current and future presidents is a reminder that other presidents have subscribed to the racist belief that Africans or African Americans are somehow inferior. The most novel aspect of President Donald Trump’s racist gibes isn’t that he said them, but that he said them in public.

The exchange was taped by Nixon, and then later became the responsibility of the Nixon Presidential Library, which I directed from 2007 to 2011. When the National Archives originally released the tape of this conversation, in 2000, the racist portion was apparently withheld to protect Reagan’s privacy. A court order stipulated that the tapes be reviewed chronologically; the chronological review was completed in 2013. Not until 2017 or 2018 did the National Archives begin a general rereview of the earliest Nixon tapes. Reagan’s death, in 2004, eliminated the privacy concerns. Last year, as a researcher, I requested that the conversations involving Ronald Reagan be rereviewed, and two weeks ago, the National Archives released complete versions of the October 1971 conversations involving Reagan online.

When the UN took its vote to seat a delegation from Beijing instead of from Taiwan in 1971, members of the Tanzanian delegation started dancing in the General Assembly. Reagan, a devoted defender of Taiwan, was incensed, and tried to reach Nixon the night of the vote. Reagan despised the United Nations, which he described as a “kangaroo court” filled with “bums,” and he wanted the U.S. to withdraw from full participation immediately. Nixon was asleep when Reagan called, so they spoke the next morning.

Reagan’s slur touched an already raw nerve. Earlier that day, Nixon had called his deputy national security adviser, Al Haig, to cancel any future meetings with any African leader who had not voted with the United States on Taiwan, even if they had already been scheduled. “Don’t even submit to me the problem that it’s difficult to turn it off since we have already accepted it,” Nixon exclaimed. “Just turn it off, on the ground that I will be out of town.”

Nixon’s anger at the UN delegations from African nations for the loss was misplaced. His own State Department blamed factors other than African voting, including maneuvering by the British and French behind the scenes, for the loss. But Nixon would have none of it. The Africans were to blame.

Had the story stopped there, it would have been bad enough. Racist venting is still racist. But what happened next showed the dynamic power of racism when it finds enablers. Nixon used Reagan’s call as an excuse to adapt his language to make the same point to others. Right after hanging up with Reagan, Nixon sought out Secretary of State William Rogers.

Even though Reagan had called Nixon to press him to withdraw from the United Nations, in Nixon’s telling, Reagan’s complaints about Africans became the primary purpose of the call.

“As you can imagine,” Nixon confided in Rogers, “there’s strong feeling that we just shouldn’t, as [Reagan] said, he saw these, as he said, he saw these—” Nixon stammered, choosing his words carefully—“these, uh, these cannibals on television last night, and he says, ‘Christ, they weren’t even wearing shoes, and here the United States is going to submit its fate to that,’ and so forth and so on.”

The president wanted his patrician secretary of state to understand that Reagan spoke for racist Americans, and they needed to be listened to. “You know, but that’s typical of a reaction, which is probably”—“That’s right,” Rogers interjected—“quite strong.”

Nixon couldn’t stop retelling his version of what Reagan had said. Oddly unfocused, he spoke with Rogers again two hours later and repeated the story as if it would be new to the secretary.

“Reagan called me last night,” Nixon said, “and I didn’t talk to him until this morning, but he is, of course, outraged. And I found out what outraged him, and I find this is typical of a lot of people: They saw it on television and, he said, ‘These cannibals jumping up and down and all that.’ And apparently it was a pretty grotesque picture.” Like Nixon, Rogers had not seen the televised images. But Rogers agreed: “Apparently, it was a terrible scene.” Nixon added, “And they cheered.”

​

Then Nixon said, “He practically got sick at his stomach, and that’s why he called. And he said, ‘It was a terrible scene.’ And that sort of thing will have an emotional effect on people … as [Reagan] said, ‘This bunch of people who don’t even wear shoes yet, to be kicking the United States in the teeth’ … It was a terrible thing, they thought.”

Nixon didn’t think of himself as a racist; perhaps that’s why it was so important to him to keep quoting Reagan’s racism, rather than own the sentiment himself. But Reagan’s comment about African leaders resonated with Nixon, because it reflected his warped thinking about African Americans.

In the fall of 1971, the Nixon administration was engaged in a massive welfare-reform effort, and was also facing school busing. These two issues apparently inspired Nixon to examine more deeply his own thinking on whether African Americans could make it in American society. Only three weeks before the call with Reagan, Nixon had revealed his opinions on Africans and African Americans in a conversation with the Harvard professor Daniel Patrick Moynihan, who had briefly served in the Nixon administration. Nixon was attracted to the theories of Richard Herrnstein and Arthur Jensen, which linked IQ to race, and wondered what Moynihan thought.

“I have reluctantly concluded, based at least on the evidence presently before me … that what Herrnstein says, and what was said earlier by Jensen, is probably … very close to the truth,” Nixon explained to a quiet Moynihan. Nixon believed in a hierarchy of races, with whites and Asians much higher up than people of African descent and Latinos. And he had convinced himself that it wasn’t racist to think black people, as a group, were inferior to whites, so long as he held them in paternalistic regard. “Within groups, there are geniuses,” Nixon said. “There are geniuses within black groups. There are more within Asian groups … This is knowledge that is better not to know.”

Nixon’s analysis of African leadership reflected his prejudice toward America’s black citizens. This is, at least, what he told Moynihan. “Have in mind one fact: Did you realize there is not, of the 40 or 45—you’re at the United Nations—black countries that are represented there, not one has a president or a prime minister who is there as a result of a contested election such as we were insisting upon in Vietnam?” And, he continued, a little later in the conversation: “I’m not saying that blacks cannot govern; I am saying they have a hell of a time. Now, that must demonstrate something.”

Fifty years later, the one fact that we should have in mind is that our nation’s chief executive assumed that the nonwhite citizens of the United States were somehow inferior. Nixon confided in Moynihan, who had been one of his house intellectuals, about the nature of his interest in research on African American intelligence: “The reason I have to know it is that as I go for programs, I must know that they have basic weaknesses.”

As these and other tapes make clear, the 37th president of the United States was a racist: He believed in treating people according to their race, and that race implied fundamental differences in individual human beings. Nixon’s racism matters to us because he allowed his views on race to shape U.S. policies—both foreign and domestic. His policies need to be viewed through that lens.

The 40th president has not left as dramatic a record of his private thoughts. Reagan’s racism appears to be documented only once on the Nixon tapes, and never in his own diaries. His comment on African leaders, however, sheds new light on what lay behind the governor’s passionate defense of the apartheid states of Rhodesia and South Africa later in the 1970s. During his 1976 primary-challenge run against Gerald Ford, Reagan publicly opposed the Ford administration’s rejection of white-minority rule in Rhodesia. “We seem to be embarking on a policy of dictating to the people of southern Africa and running the risk of increased violence and bloodshed,” Reagan said at a rally in Texas.

These new tapes are a stark reminder of the racism that often lay behind the public rhetoric of American presidents. As I write a biography of JFK, I’ve found that this sort of racism did not animate President Kennedy—indeed, early on he took political risks to help African leaders, most notably Gamal Abdel Nasser and Kwame Nkrumah. But his reluctance to do more, sooner for African Americans cannot be separated from the paternalism he brought to the Oval Office or the prejudice held by parts of his Boston inner circle.

Kennedy, at least, learned on the job that securing civil rights for all was a moral imperative. Donald Trump, on the other hand, is a symptom of a sickness that dwells in American society, sometimes deeply and weakly, sometimes on the surface and feverishly. He bears responsibility for his own actions, but the tropes, the turns of phrase, the clumsy indirection, and worse, the gunk about American society that he and his most devoted followers pass off as ideas, have an ugly tradition. It is not at the core of the American tradition, for what makes us mighty and successful is that we are much more than the narrowest of our minds. But it remains an ineluctable part of American culture, nonetheless.

Nixon never changed his mind about the supposed inherent inferiority of Africans. At the end of October 1971, he discussed the UN vote with his best friend, Bebe Rebozo. Bebe delighted Nixon by echoing Reagan: “That reaction on television was, it proves how they ought to be still hanging from the trees by their tails.” Nixon laughed.

These days, though Trump’s imagery is less zoological, it is pretty much the same in spirit. And this president, unlike Nixon, doesn’t believe he needs to hide behind anyone else’s racism.