Abstract
This article analyzes The New Orleans Tribune’s role as the first Black daily newspaper and its role as a counterpublic entity for Black Americans. Founded in 1864, it advocated radical equity for the newly manumitted Black community, challenging dominant white narratives and mobilizing resistance against white supremacy. The Tribune provided a platform for Black people to express their concerns and advocate for their interests while also forming a community. The study analyzes affective elements and their role in cultivating collective identity and driving collective actions, emphasizing the newspaper’s significance as a counterpublic space for Black voices.
This article examines the historical context and editorial practices of The New Orleans Tribune, the first Black daily newspaper in the United States, to explore its role in producing Black counterpublics during Reconstruction. This era represents a crucial juncture in US history, marked by the abolition of slavery and the establishment of the Freedmen’s Bureau, which attempted to redress racial inequalities and integrate freedmen into society. During this time, The New Orleans Tribune, founded in October 1864 by Dr. Louis Charles Roudanez, emerged as a vital platform advocating for deeply radical economic justice, equity, and parity for Black Americans. The newspaper, published in French and English, reached diverse audiences across Creole and Black communities in the post-Emancipation period (Melancon, 2011).
By challenging prevailing narratives of white print culture, The Tribune acted as a counterpublic, providing a platform for Black people to foster collective identity and mobilize resistance. This study offers a historical and theoretical analysis of counterpublics, collective identity, and media practices, highlighting the newspaper’s role in shaping resistance movements during Reconstruction. This work also examines how The Tribune’s editorials mobilized affect, forging collective identity and challenging white supremacy. To excavate these histories, we ask: What affective elements are employed within the newspaper? How do these elements cultivate a collective identity within a Black public? How do the messages and journalistic choices in the editorials actively forefront resistance against hegemonic white supremacy? These questions underscore the broader significance of The New Orleans Tribune in challenging dominant narratives and amplifying the voices of marginalized communities during this transformative period in American history.
Focusing on editorials published in March of 1865, the month of the Freedmen’s Bureau’s establishment, we perform a critical discourse analysis (CDA) to radically contextualize The Tribune as a site of resistance and community mobilization. Using affect theory, we examine how emotions in the editorials fostered resistance and identity formation. Finally, collective identity theoretical frameworks provide concepts of community, resistance, and the development of counterpublics for Black people.
Historicizing The New Orleans Tribune
The nascent Black Press emerged in 1827 with Freedom’s Journal, a weekly newspaper focused on key topics of abolition and change (Forde & Bedingfield, 2021; Vogel, 2001). Following Freedom’s Journal, Black-owned newspapers began appearing across the United States. While many, like Frederick Douglass’s The North Star, were published in the North, by the 1860s, Black editors had established presses in the South, including in New Orleans, Louisiana. Louisiana’s unique history, shaped by the Haitian Revolution, was a “three-tiered society,” distinct from other Southern states (Dessen, 2008). Thus, in 1862, New Orleans saw the founding of the first Black southern newspaper, L’Union, by radicals Dr. Louis Charles Roudanez, Jean Baptiste Roudanez, and Paul Trévigne (Roudané, 2023). Published primarily in French, L’Union was led by Dr. Roudanez, a prominent figure in the New Orleans’ push toward “Saint-Domingue ferment” or the fight for racial equality (Dessen, 2008, p. 31).
After L’Union ceased publication on July 19, 1864, 2 days later, Dr. Roudanez launched The New Orleans Tribune. The Tribune began publishing in both French and English and ran with the help of managing editor Jean-Charles Houzeau (Rouzan, 2008; Sherman, n.d). The newspaper was printed daily (except on Mondays) and had two pages of content, covering national news, religion, politics, commerce, and crime, alongside advertisements for medicines, farm animals, and job opportunities. Strikingly, the second page almost always featured bolded editorials with titles like “Observations on General Halibut’s Answer,” “The Coming Celebration,” and “Our Advocates in Congress.” These editorials detailed firm political stances, dreams of cultural equality, and often, roadmaps toward a more equitable future and the complete integration of African Americans into the nation’s social, political, and economic life (Bell, 2008). The newspaper became renowned for these powerful editorials and its efforts to communicate directly to Congress by sending “free copies of the paper to major Northern newspapers and to every member of Congress, who often quoted the editorials on the floor of the U.S. Senate or House of Representatives” (Sherman, n.d., para. 3).
The Tribune pushed for economic justice in the post-Civil War fractured America, and the newspaper’s activism included the creation of the Freedmen’s Aid Association, whose goal was “to make emancipation a reality for Black Louisianians (Bell, 1999, p. 148; Connor, 1980). 1 The Tribune described the debt owed to newly manumitted Black people, writing that they were “entitled by a paramount right to the possession of the soil they have so long cultivated . . . If the Government will not give them the land, let it be rented to them” (Bell, 1999, p. 148).
After a few years of publishing, The Tribune eventually faced deleterious political backlash. The Tribune refused to endorse white Republican candidate Henry Clay Warmoth for governor, instead choosing to support the paper’s candidates (Roudané, 2023). This resulted in The Tribune being censured by the Republican party, and the eventual decline of financial support (Roudané, 2023). In 1870, the paper ceased publication, but its writings and legacy of equality in the face of white supremacy continue. Following the tradition of journalism history as cultural history, The Tribune emerges as not only a historically relevant newspaper but as a critical force in shaping Black racial consciousness (Carey, 1974; Kreiling, 1973).
Sample Selection and Methods
This study analyzes 28 New Orleans Tribune editorials 2 from March 1865, a month of historical significance marked by the establishment of the Freedmen’s Bureau on March 3. We focus on editorials because they offer unique moments of agency and self-reflexivity, clearly outlining the newspaper’s goals. Editorials in the 19th-century Black Press were an essential means of informing, representing, and advocating for the community, providing a platform to challenge dominant narratives and articulate marginalized voices (Casey, 2022).
We accessed the editorials using Readex’s America’s Historical Newspapers database. After downloading, reading, and analyzing the editorials, we situated these texts during a short period just prior to the forthcoming post-war socio-political dynamics of Reconstruction, which DuBois (2011) described as occurring amid “unstable balances.” Conjunctural analysis as a theoretical approach allowed us to better understand The Tribune’s role in constructing a counterpublic sphere for Black communities during a largely turbulent period in American history (Grossberg, 2019; Littler, 2016).
We conducted a CDA of the editorials to examine how emotions as affective resources shaped collective identity and resisted dominant narratives. Following Foucault’s (1987) framework and Kendall and Wickham’s (1999) steps, we analyzed: (a) affective resources in the editorials, (b) boundaries of discourse, (c) spaces for resistance, and (d) the interplay between material and discursive elements in challenging inequalities.
Our findings are structured around three key themes that emerged from the conjunctural and CDA of The Tribune’s editorials. First, we examine how these editorials served as a critical site of Black counterpublic discourse, shaping a shared political consciousness around economic justice, racial equality, and collective resistance in the post-Emancipation era. Second, we explore how The Tribune mobilized affect as a key emotional resource in constructing a Black counterpublic. Third, we analyze how the use of certain linguistic strategies can used to foster unity, distinguish allies from the core community, and reinforce affective counterpublics that resisted oppression through collective advocacy.
Our methods are not without limitations. We analyzed only 1 month of publications and focused solely on the editorial section, which may overlook other resources offering alternative perspectives on counterpublic formation and responses to events. Nevertheless, the chosen dates and editorials offer valuable insight into the newspaper’s role as a resistance tool for Black people in Louisiana, highlighting methods used to build collective identity through affective resources, providing a foundation for future studies. Additionally, the newspaper was published in both English and French. Due to our research and cultural backgrounds, we could not analyze the French editorials. Consultation with a French speaker revealed that the French and English sections were not necessarily translated verbatim. Future studies, including comparative and audience analyses, could explore how narratives differed for French- and English-speaking audiences in New Orleans.
Counterpublic Theory and the Black Press
Journalism has long been one of the pillars of classic public sphere theory, ideally visualized as the determiner and arbiter of “the public” and transparency (Garman, 2019; Dubèl et al., 2025). Conversely, journalism can also be used as a powerful tool for counterpublics, especially “when alternative communities of people are addressed, [and] other publics emerge than the journalistically invoked conception of the public” (Blaagaard, 2022, p. 394). As critical theorists like Squires (2002), have noted, counterpublics “engage in debate with wider publics to test ideas and perhaps utilize traditional social movement tactics (boycotts, civil disobedience)” (p. 448). The Tribune, particularly its editorial page, functions as an element of discourse in the Black public sphere. We adopt Squires’ (2002) definition of the Black public sphere as “an emergent collective composed of people who (a) engage in common discourses and negotiations of what it means to be Black and (b) pursue particularly defined Black interests” (p. 454).
The New Orleans Tribune also furthers Fraser’s (1993) conception of participatory parity, which argues that inequality is advanced through a “multiplicity of publics,” some inclusive and others exclusive. The Tribune thus serves as a racialized case study that contrasts with the bourgeois public sphere by providing a relationality between race and culture that other newspapers (like The Times-Picayune) do not. Warner’s (2002) conceptualization of the public portrays it as a social space that is created through a reflexive circulation of discourses. In this sense, the sharing of discourses in The Tribune goes beyond a mere exchange between speaker and listener—transforming it from a private to a public discourse. Nevertheless, circulation is bound by its own set of rules and conventions, which can marginalize those excluded from dominant discourses. Counterpublics, like the one The Tribune fostered, produce and circulate their own discourses that reflect their identity, contesting the supposed neutrality of mainstream public discourse (Rothberg, 2006).
While historical theories of the public sphere provide a useful framework, it is essential to recognize traditional theoretical canons that have often overlooked Black voices in understanding US history. Following Willems (2023), we reject the notion of race as simply another additive to a larger project. Instead, as Brooks (2005) points out, “the intellectual and political potential energies of eighteenth-century African American writings have been consistently underestimated” (p. 86). Analyzing The New Orleans Tribune alongside African-American histories means engaging with rich, generative contexts: “the memory of the Middle Passage, chattel slavery, nominal emancipation, vulnerability to violence and imprisonment,” and the creation of Black public spaces such as churches and schools (Brooks, 2005, p. 88). Brooks challenges us to write and read histories that do not solely position Blackness in relation to white figures like John Adams or Benjamin Franklin but rather foreground Black voices and stories. With the digitalization of Black newspapers, this work is not only more possible but also more urgent.
Editorials in the Black Press during the post-Civil War era served as a crucial medium for addressing a wide range of issues pertinent to their audience, from advocating for self-defense against racial discrimination to celebrating community progress (Casey, 2022). These editorials were not merely informational but also acted as a platform for representation and advocacy, challenging dominant narratives and voicing the concerns of marginalized communities often overlooked by the white press. Black editors used their publications to amplify both individual and collective Black voices, leveraging the influential role of the press in mid-nineteenth-century America. Thus, their editorial work carried significant political weight, intertwining practical responsibilities with broader structural implications for Black empowerment and social change.
The New Orleans Tribune as Counterpublic Discourse
The New Orleans Tribune emerged as a crucial site of Black counterpublic discourse, and their editorials were part of a longer conjunctural moment wherein, although slavery had been formally abolished, redress, repair, and parity were far from present. Racial prejudice, hierarchy, and outright conspicuous violence were rampant, and The Tribune’s editorials emerged with immense clarity in terms of the paper’s mission. One theme of the counterpublic formation was economic justice. In the paper’s March 1, 1865 editorial, authors constructed a narrative of freedom as it related specifically to labor and oppression. “The laborers,” they write, “have been proclaimed freemen. Our best endeavor must be devoted to elevating them to the condition of men who are really free” (The New Orleans Tribune, 1865b, p. 2). In this context, the editorial writers constructed a universe wherein freedom for Black planters surrounded ownership and true independence, not just manumission. They argue that plantations needed to be cooperatively owned and operated by and for Black people:
As capitalists needed to work the plantations, let the people themselves make up this capital. [O]ur basis for labor must now be put on a democratic footing. There is no more room, in the organization of our society, for an oligarchy of slaveholders, or property holders. (The New Orleans Tribune, 1865b, p. 2)
They propose a Bank of Laborers to achieve this goal. These material offerings were common in the paper, giving readers goals and ways to feel in community with one another, further forming a counterpublic amongst those who had just been released from conditions of enslavement.
The newspaper’s mission statement aimed to help its audience to understand and agree to shared values. In the March 5, 1865, editorial, titled “Our Platform,” the authors called for justice and highlighted various Black identity groups: laborers, ministers, children, and women. They demanded “entire freedom” and particular principles for each group, including equal respect for Black ministers, Black women not being treated with brutality, and fair earnings for Black laborers (The New Orleans Tribune, 1865i, p. 2). In a prescient moment, the authors specifically write that they hoped Black children would one day be “seated on the same benches with the white girls and boys so that every prejudice of color may disappear from childhood; and the next generation be aroused to a sentiment of fraternity” (The New Orleans Tribune, 1865i, p. 2). In producing a Black counterpublic, The Tribune uses inclusive language to unify the community, especially given the context of the post-Emancipation era, and invoked privilege to make sense of the world that the newly “freed” Black Americans lived in. In relation to segregation, the editors write that the Philadelphia Railroad Company gave ballots to their passengers to vote: “‘Shall the colored men be admitted in the cars?’ And of course, the great mass of the whites did not like to lose their privilege; and they voted NO!” (The New Orleans Tribune, 1865d, p. 2). By incorporating narratives that Black people living in New Orleans in 1865 could relate to and resonate with, The Tribune helped to form and spread the ideology of their Black counterpublic. Later, on March 16, 1865, The Tribune harnesses their own name to encourage protest:
What shall we do say our friends? Do like The Tribune does; rise up and enter your protest against the planters pretenses. Raise your mighty voice as a people; you will be heard at the North, you will be heard in England, you will be heard on the Continent of Europe. Justice is always strong; freedom has the sympathies of nations. (The New Orleans Tribune, 1865e, p. 2)
The Tribune uses the editorial page to serve as a sliver of the “domain of discursive practices open to those whose opinions count in contesting a decision of consequence to a community” (Goodnight, 1987, p. 430). Throughout these examples, The Tribune’s editorials narrate community ideology around justice and freedom, helping shape a post-Emancipation Black counterpublic.
Affective Dimensions of the Public Sphere and Journalism
Having positioned The New Orleans Tribune as a critical site of Black counterpublic discourse, we now turn to the affective dimensions underpinning this counterpublic. Building on the foundational idea that counterpublics are sites where marginalized groups can challenge dominant narratives, we proceed to examine how emotions and feelings can play a crucial part in shaping these collective identities. In our analysis of The Tribune, we position newspapers as material, emotional, and broadly aesthetic objects and projects (Moran & Usher, 2021). Building on this perspective, the public sphere can be understood as an affective world (Berlant, 2011), shaped by the emotions and feelings of those participating. Within these affective worlds, individuals exchange ideas and connect emotionally, negotiating and deliberating on matters of shared importance. This collective emotional dimension transcends the mere circulation of discourses, fostering a sense of belonging and engagement that sustains the public sphere through ongoing emotional and social interactions (Berlant, 2011; Dahlgren, 2019).
Communication scholars have long approached the interconnection between affect and the public sphere (Lünenborg, 2019; Papacharissi, 2015; Richards, 2009), highlighting the role of emotions in media for public engagement and understanding democratic processes. Recent scholarship has examined how affect intersects with journalism, particularly within the emotional turn in journalism studies, focusing on how emotions influence both the production and consumption of journalistic discourses (Koivunen et al., 2021; Lecheler, 2020; Wahl-Jorgensen, 2021). While some research has addressed historical emotions in journalism (Pantti & Wahl-Jorgensen, 2011), it often centers on news content, neglecting other journalistic forms like editorials. This oversight is notable because, despite news’ long-standing association with objectivity, earlier expressions of direct emotions can be found in editorials and letters to the editor (Pantti & Wahl-Jorgensen, 2011). By focusing on the editorials of The New Orleans Tribune, our study contributes to this underexplored area, providing insights into how emotions are articulated and circulated in journalism beyond traditional news reporting, particularly during the Reconstruction period.
To explore the intersection of the public sphere, journalism, and emotions, we adopt the social strain of Affect Theory, defining affect as the emotional textures that shape our embodied experiences (Schaefer, 2019). Due to their close association, “affect” and “emotion” are often used interchangeably. Within this framework, Ahmed (2004) introduces the idea of affective economies, viewing affects as dynamic entities that circulate among objects and signs, transforming them into objects of emotion. Consequently, emotions are “free” from specific objects (Sedgwick, 2004), shaped by interactions rather than confined to or caused by them; they can be transmitted and circulated through these interactions (Ahmed, 2014). This perspective also suggests that emotions are contagious (Sedgwick, 2004) and that emotional objects possess a stickiness that facilitates their circulation (Ahmed, 2004). For instance, one may feel shame in response to someone else’s shameful actions. However, circulating an affective object does not ensure the transfer of the feeling itself; rather, what is shared is an orientation to the emotion (Ahmed, 2010), necessitating a certain receptiveness to experience it.
Affect’s circulation directly impacts our lived experiences, shaping our perceptions of objects and bodies, and intertwining emotionality with power relations to expose social structures. Emotions act as agents of action, capable of making and shaping bodies. For example, Ahmed’s (2004) analysis highlights how, in the context of racism in America, the Black body is construed as threatening or deviant by the white body, evoking feelings of hatred or fear. This narrative perpetuates the vilification of the Black body and community by white hegemonic communities, reinforcing negative emotions over time.
This understanding aligns with Foucault’s (1978) analytics of power, which views power as multifaceted, embedded in social relationships, and constructed through interactions rather than being unilaterally imposed. Thus, power’s decentralized nature poses challenges for resistance while simultaneously enabling its emergence through affective circulation. By examining The Tribune’s editorials, this study aims to reveal how affective mobilization functioned as a form of resistance, challenging dominant narratives and fostering counterpublics oriented toward racial and social justice.
Affective Mobilization in The New Orleans Tribune
The affective elements in these editorials primarily manifest through verbal elements, shaping the community. In line with Ahmed’s (2004) concept of affective economies, the editorials function as emotional objects that circulate two predominant emotions as part of the newspaper’s affective profile: hope and anger.
Firstly, hope is evoked through affective language that inspires faith in progress and resilience: “We have faith. An immoveable faith [. . .] we have faith in the progressive course of the nation and of the world” (The New Orleans Tribune, 1865c, p. 2). This articulation aligns with Berlant’s (2011) framing of affective publics, fostering relationality and a collective orientation toward the future the community desires. In contemplating the possibilities for improvement, the editorials draw inspiration from European examples, like Napoleon III's legislation, and reassure readers that past oppressions will not return: “Let them be confident that they will not be replaced under the whip of those who were their masters, but they will find lands and homes where they can live in a proud and cheerful independence” (The New Orleans Tribune, 1865f, p. 2). This “stickiness” of hope is one element that binds this community together with a shared vision of justice, creating a counterpublic that reclaims power by contesting racial injustices.
The editorials also emphasize the urgent need for action and mobilization toward a better future. They assert that hope requires the proactive exercise of power, rejecting complacency, and urging the nation to become a beacon of hope for the oppressed by upholding its philosophical and liberal ideals. “Now is the time to attend to it,” as the editorial states, identifying that breaking the barriers of prejudice requires combined efforts and determination (The New Orleans Tribune, 1865g, p. 2). Examples of progress, like the admission of Black children to formerly segregated schools, serve as beacons of hope, inspiring confidence in the possibility of a more just and equitable future. These calls to action invite The Tribune’s readers to actively engage in the struggle for justice and equality, reinforcing that justice is resilient and freedom garners support across nations.
Aligned with this hopeful vision, the editorials reimagine a future grounded in principles of justice and liberation. They call for a collective rejoicing in the name of justice, emphasizing the need for genuine freedom rather than mere emancipation. Rejecting the label of “freedmen,” the editorials assert the importance of individuals demonstrating their autonomy and agency as free citizens. There is a clear rejection of any form of apprenticeship to replace slavery, and the editorials highlight the demand for full social and political equality. Moreover, the editorials articulate a commitment to defending the weak against the mighty and the oppressed against the oppressor, viewing this struggle as a sacred and honorable cause.
While hope is the affect that prevails in the editorials, anger also emerges as a rejection of past and present injustices. The editorials condemn the “infamous cornerstone” of slavery, and lament that, despite legislative abolition, the Southern Black community continued to face precarity and inequity (The New Orleans Tribune, 1865g, p. 2). Ahmed’s (2004) framing of anger as a tool to expose power dynamics and resist hegemony is clear in this example, as this anger functions as a catalyst to reveal injustices and promote equity. This comparison serves to underscore the magnitude of current inequalities and injustices. Moreover, the editorials draw parallels with other nations, such as France, to express discontent with the state of affairs in the United States, emphasizing the need for change and progress.
Through these expressions of anger, we can observe how the editorials challenge prevailing narratives and advocate for a more just and equitable society. Surprisingly, humor was a tool used to express anger and discontent, with the editors using ironic terms to refer to their counterparts, such as “Mr. Bourgeois” (The New Orleans Tribune, 1865b, p. 2). And anger is used less often as the primary motivator for action: “The blood of our fathers has been spilled to drag them out of Africa. I do not ask for revenge, but let us go free, that’s all we want” (The New Orleans Tribune, 1865h, p. 2). While anger underscores the injustices causing the struggle, the driving force behind the editorial is hope.
The Tribune also faces the challenge of engaging readers in describing the meetings and addresses to which they do not have access. As a strategy to foster emotional contagion, the editorials employ verbal representations of affective responses in in-person meetings, revealing that the editorials as journalistic pieces not only inform but also emotionally connect audiences to the events (Wahl-Jorgensen, 2020). Through the narration of the events, the editorials vividly convey the atmosphere and emotions of these gatherings, making readers feel as though they are active participants despite their physical absence. The descriptions include applause, cries of “Shame! Shame!” and echoing voices of agreement with “So do I,” allowing readers to immerse themselves in the affective economies of these events. In sum, The Tribune’s editorials help build a shared sense of community and collective engagement by transporting readers into these scenes.
Emotional Resonance and Collective Identity Formation
The circulation of affects involves the transfer of emotions, which can play a role in establishing or strengthening a community’s collective identity. Returning to Ahmed’s (2004) framework, which posits that affects do not reside solely within objects, it becomes clear that emotions are not something that individuals can possess autonomously. Boundaries are constructed based on emotions and our interactions and responses to external stimuli, shaping the collective “we” and the individual “I” (2014). When the affects associated with a community are positive, they produce relationships of solidarity among members, reinforcing a sense of unity (Jasper, 2019). Consequently, affect can facilitate the formation of a collective identity, as its strength comes from its emotional resonance (Wettergren, 2005).
Researchers in social movements frequently utilize this concept to elucidate how individuals unite, forging cognitive and emotional connections to mobilize for social goods (Melucci, 1995; Polletta & Jasper, 2001). Drawing from Melucci (1995), the concept of collective identity refers to a shared sense of belonging and purpose among individuals, which arises from collective actions, negotiations, and coordination toward common goals. While Melucci’s approach primarily focuses on identity formation within social movements, it also applies to constructing a counterpublic for Black people in Louisiana. For collective identity to emerge, several factors are needed, including a pre-existing social problem, the development of a shared sense of common interests, and engagement in collective action itself (Keane, 2020).
The Black Press, founded on the desire to create a self-identified community among Black people, was acutely aware of journalism’s power to forge community bonds and spur collective political action (Casey, 2022). For Black publics in the 1860s, the resonance of systemic racism, economic inequalities and white supremacy remained strong. The New Orleans Tribune, as a Black-owned newspaper, offers a platform for challenging this oppression, working as a vessel of the common interest and experiences of the community.
The formation of a collective identity not only fosters a sense of unity within a community but also plays a pivotal role in driving collective actions, such as demonstrations or protests. As Jasper (2019) suggests, when individuals feel a sense of belonging to a group rooted in shared emotions, they are more inclined to participate in these collective actions. Moreover, strong emotions associated with the group can attract new members and motivate them to join the cause (Jasper, 1998). We argue that The Tribune, as a part of 1860s print culture, serving as an object of emotion, holds this power. It serves as a conduit for the collective identity of a counterpublic community and inspires newcomers through the use of the affective elements of their discourses to join the group and participate in the collective actions it advocates for.
The editorials use collective pronouns like “we,” which allows us to observe how the community’s desires and aspirations are articulated. Phrases like “We want republican spirit too; we want our social institutions to breathe a true democratic spirit” and “Better for us” (The New Orleans Tribune, 1865h, p. 2), suggest a collective agenda and vision for the community. Here, the circulation of such emotionally charged language seems to foster a shared sense of unity among readers by transferring hope, resolve, and determination to fight for their rights. The editorial section itself is referred to as “Our platform,” as seen in the editorial’s title on March 5 (The New Orleans Tribune, 1865i, p. 2), which aligns The Tribune’s voice with the community, reinforcing solidarity, shared purpose, and collective identity among readers.
The “we” in The Tribune’s editorials appears to primarily represent the Black community in New Orleans and Louisiana, reflecting a collective identity forged through negotiation and shared purpose to address systemic racial injustices. While we cannot fully know the extent of solidarity beyond the texts themselves, phrases like “our people,” suggest an emphasis on unity among the oppressed. The editorials often focus on the concerns and interests of Black men, and the lack of individual bylines suggests a communal voice advocating for rights and justice. Therefore, the “we” seems to encompass those speaking out through the newspaper, collectively advocating for their rights and interests. Additionally, the “we” acknowledges the collective duties and responsibilities of the group, as seen in statements like “Our duty is to protest against the Banks system” (The New Orleans Tribune, 1865h, p. 2), suggesting a shared commitment to activism and social change within the community.
The editorials of The New Orleans Tribune reference allies who support their causes, but these allies are not necessarily part of the collective “we” representing the Black community in Louisiana. For instance, Major General Butler 3 is recognized as an ally in the struggle for liberty and the Union cause, as seen in an editorial which re-printed a letter, expressing gratitude: “General—The colored men of Louisiana present to you their best wishes for your personal prosperity, and the realization of your dearest hopes: the triumph of the Union cause and of Liberty” (The New Orleans Tribune, 1865a, p. 2). However, figures like Butler are depicted as external supporters rather than integral community members. While their support is valued, it does not align with the shared identity and lived struggles of the oppressed group represented by the “we.” This distinction reflects the dynamics of counterpublics, where external allies play supportive roles but remain outside the core affective and communal experiences that define the counterpublic.
The editorials foster solidarity within Louisiana’s Black community while delineating a clear distinction between “us” and the “other.” The “other” is identified as those who defend oppressive systems or ideologies. For example, the editorials state, “The defenders of such a system are not the friends we intend to have” (The New Orleans Tribune, 1865h, p. 2), drawing a clear line between the community represented by “we” and those who uphold oppressive structures. References to “their representatives” highlight the disconnect between the supposed representatives and the community’s interests. Additionally, individuals or groups who attempt to impose their will on the Black population are labeled as part of the “other” against whom the editorials advocate.
These demarcations of “us” versus the “other” are not just linguistic but deeply affective processes that shape collective emotions of solidarity. This identification of the “other” serves to counter traditional notions of “us” versus “other,” challenging dominant narratives and determining the perspective of Black people in this context. Through this process, the editorials can contribute to the establishment of solidarity among community members who share common affects while also delineating those who do not align with their interests or experiences.
The language used in The New Orleans Tribune creates a sense of closeness with its readers, implicitly involving them in the collective “we.” Through humor, the editorials critique individuals or systems perceived as oppressive or inconsistent. For instance, a humorous critique aimed at a “Dr. Randolph” suggests that his opinion changes so inconsistently that it is remarkable: “We don’t remember the circumstances when any intelligent man has so inconsistently changed his opinion” (The New Orleans Tribune, 1865j, p. 2). Additionally, casual expressions such as “a few words, and then we are done,” create a conversational tone that fosters familiarity and resonance with readers (The New Orleans Tribune, 1865j, p. 2).
The editorials also offer sharp critiques of the injustices faced by Black people in the South. For instance, they highlight the absurdity of expecting justice from those who have historically denied it: “The white men have deprived us of our rights, and you propose to ask them as to a tribunal of justice: shall you give these negroes their franchise? Of course, they won’t give it” (The New Orleans Tribune, 1865d, p. 2). By employing such language strategies, the editorials engage readers and convey the shared sentiments and frustrations of the community, thereby reinforcing collective identity and fostering solidarity among its members.
Discussions and Final Thoughts
We began this work focused on the role of The New Orleans Tribune’s editorials in producing Black counterpublics during the Reconstruction era. In this vein, we queried which affective elements were employed in writing the editorials, how these elements helped shape collective identity, and how these elements emblematized movements and resistance against hegemonic white supremacy. Although the introduction of the Freedmen’s Bureau was the event that guided the selection of the sample, the analysis revealed that this governmental agency was not as explicitly central in the content of the editorials as we had originally envisioned. Perhaps the time period that we chose for analysis was too close to contemporary events to offer the reflection we expected, but future projects will surely excavate other revelations about Black counterpublics and resistance efforts by examining different time periods.
Additionally, while conducting the close readings, we noted that world-making and Black counterpublics remain strongly connected, and The Tribune’s editorials revealed that the editors were not merely responding to white narratives, but envisioning entirely new economic, political, and social futures (Vogel, 2001). For instance, the editorials were not simply reflective of community sentiments, as they played a role in shaping the historical record about systemic injustices through hope or anger. Solidarity was used not just as a passive result of shared identity but as an active mobilizing force for collective action (Jasper, 2019). For instance, the editorial’s call that “Our duty is to protest against the Banks system” highlights a shared commitment to activism and social justice. Through the use of collective pronouns like “we” and “our,” The Tribune’s editorials played a crucial role in negotiating the boundaries of collective identity to create a unified group with common (and flexible) goals.
The use of emotions in The Tribune is not merely expressive, but performative. Drawing on Affect Theory, particularly the work of Ahmed (2014) and Berlant (2011), we can see how the editorials were creating a counterpublic by mobilizing emotions like hope and anger. These emotions were not simply reflecting the feelings of the community, but actively working to forge a collective identity. Drawing from Ahmed’s (2004) work on affective economies, emotions circulate within communities, helping to bind individuals together, sharing and exchanging common visions of justice and resistance. The use of emotions to negotiate and test ideas in the public sphere challenges canonical conceptions of the public sphere as based on rational thinking. The Tribune therefore promotes an emotional engagement rather than one that is entirely rational and deliberative.
By utilizing affective language, The New Orleans Tribune transformed its editorials into a tool for emotional mobilization. This shift from a rational to an emotional mode of engagement allows us to see how power and resistance are entangled in everyday discourses. Foucault’s (1987) concept of power suggests that power is not just top-down, as it also operates through the circulation of ideas and emotions, which allows an influence from “below.” The Tribune used this power of emotional discourse to challenge the hegemonic narratives of white supremacy and to promote a counter-hegemonic discourse centered on justice.
In all, The Tribune was a fertile site for explicating the burgeoning Black counterpublic in New Orleans during Reconstruction, not only by responding to white supremacy but also by proposing new futures for the Black community. Through the use of affective language to convey the collective (through resources such as collective pronouns), The Tribune presented a sense of shared identity that could lead its readership to engage in collective actions to achieve justice. These affective dimensions of the editorials show how emotions are not just byproducts of political struggles but also integral to the construction of collective identities and mobilization against hegemonic powers.
Throughout the hegemonic discourse surrounding early print culture in the United States, Black voices and Black narratives are too often rendered invisible. This analysis, which forefronts the prescient and clear narratives constructed by Dr. Roudanez and other Black writers working with The New Orleans Tribune, aims to disrupt journalism’s historical cecity. As a constructor of counterpublics, as an affective object, and as a producer of collective identity, The Tribune performed a particularly important type of labor at a crucial juncture post-Emancipation during the Reconstruction period. As the first Black daily newspaper, The Tribune is a crucial source for understanding the history of the United States and the history of journalism. The work here simply points to moments of immense clarity within the paper’s fight for equity and justice for all people.
This study is part of a larger historical turn exploring how The Tribune worked as a counterpublic during Reconstruction. By focusing on the affective editorial narratives employed by the newspaper, we revealed how these practices were instrumental in fostering collective identity and resistance among marginalized communities. This analysis enriches our understanding of the role of media in shaping engagement and resistance within these communities. A detailed examination of historical journalistic texts reveals how past media practices sought to influence resistance and identity formation, thereby deepening our comprehension of journalism’s impact on social movements and its evolution over time. Our focus on The Tribune’s editorials highlights an under-explored area in media studies, illustrating how emotions were articulated and circulated in journalism beyond traditional news reporting. This perspective provides valuable insights into how historical media practices contributed to shaping collective action and resistance during a pivotal period in American history.
By examining the formation of counterpublic discourse through the framework of Affect Theory, this paper contributes to a re-thinking of the canonic public sphere as it can extend beyond the conventional scope of intellectual discourse to encompass the realm of emotions. While the exchange of ideas and arguments remains crucial in public discourse, emotions also play a significant role in persuasion and community-building. In the context of The New Orleans Tribune, emotions serve as a conduit for effectively transmitting messages. Thus, emotions are not impulsive reactions but can be strategically employed to convey meanings and catalyze collective action. Utilizing affective elements such as hope and anger, as demonstrated in The Tribune’s case, fosters a sense of collective identity and serves as a tool for resisting hegemonic narratives and empowering marginalized voices.
Future research could explore the resonance of the ideas transmitted by the editorials and later rhetoric, as a continuous thread of Black advocacy. This historical resonance may serve as a key focus for analyzing the evolution of Black public discourse and its influence on contemporary social justice movements. By examining connections between historical and contemporary instances of emotional mobilization, future studies could offer deeper insights into the enduring power of emotional resonance in fostering solidarity and driving social change.
Writing this, we find ourselves in a particular moment wherein legacy newspapers are rapidly losing public support, while the counterpublic new Black Press continues to challenge the politics and ethos of this nation (Bedingfield, 2023). To understand The New Orleans Tribune’s editorials is to understand how Black people defied and continue to defy white supremacy, using the form of newspapers to intervene against systemic domination.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
The authors would like to thank Professor Sarah Jackson for her guidance, feedback, and thoroughness throughout the writing and editing process.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
