From eugenics to voter ID laws: Thomas Farr's connections to the Pioneer Fund
Over the summer, President Donald Trump nominated Thomas Alvin Farr to be a federal judge for the Eastern District of North Carolina. For good reason, his nomination has earned universal opposition from the civil rights community.
In a September to the Senate Committee on the Judiciary, the Rev. Dr. William J. Barber, II, of the North Carolina National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), argued that Farr "does not possess the temperament necessary to serve in an impartial judicial position.鈥� What Farr does possess, according to Barber, 鈥渋s a long record as an advocate for hyper-partisan, segregationist causes.鈥�
Farr鈥檚 record of fighting advances in black political participation spans decades. It includes his involvement in drafting and then defending the 2013 North Carolina 鈥溾�� voter restriction law struck down by a federal court because it targeted black voters 鈥渨ith almost surgical precision.鈥� 鈥淏ecause of race, the Legislature enacted one of the largest restrictions of the franchise in modern North Carolina history,鈥� the .
And just recently, Farr was to have misrepresented his role in voter suppression activity directed at black voters conducted by the Jesse Helms Senate campaign in 1990 against Charlotte鈥檚 first black mayor, Harvey Gantt. A former Justice Department lawyer placed Farr in the center of the unlawful conduct. 聽
This record should be disqualifying on its own. What鈥檚 missing and more disquieting in Farr鈥檚 story, however, is his early connections to one of the most influential racist hate groups of the 20th century: the Pioneer Fund. Founded in 1937 to pursue 鈥渞ace betterment鈥� for those 鈥渄eemed to be descended predominantly from white persons who settled in the original thirteen states prior to the adoption of the Constitution,鈥� the Pioneer Fund was the 鈥溾�� well into the 2000s and one of the key funders of the fight against civil rights in the South from the 1950s onward.
Farr鈥檚 connection to the Pioneer Fund comes principally through his longtime boss and mentor, Thomas Ellis, the political mastermind behind the arch-segregationist Senator Jesse Helms. Ellis was a Pioneer Fund director, grantee and close associate of the hate group鈥檚 president, Harry Frederick Weyher, Jr., for over 60 years. In the 1980s, hundreds of thousands of dollars flowed from the Pioneer Fund to a tax-exempt foundation called the Coalition For Freedom that was under Ellis鈥� control and represented by Farr.
In the wake of the Supreme Court鈥檚 Shelby v. Holder ruling that gutted a key provision of the Voting Rights Act 鈥� a ruling that gave Farr and his allies a free hand to introduce their 鈥渕onster鈥� law 鈥� Jelani Cobb of The New Yorker that 鈥淎mericans tend to imagine that the racial history of their nation is a steady line sloping upward; in truth, it looks more like an EKG.鈥�
Americans聽also tend to imagine聽organized racism as the聽province of hooded Klansmen. In reality, Farr stands as a direct descendant of one of the most sophisticated segregationist projects in American history.聽
The Pioneer Fund
The Pioneer Fund was founded in 1937 by Wickliffe Preston Draper, a reclusive heir to a textile fortune. The Pioneer Fund鈥檚 first president was the most prominent American eugenicist of his era. One of Draper鈥檚 early investments was in the work of white supremacist , who helped draft an amendment to Virginia鈥檚 Racial Integrity Act that outlawed interracial marriage. Cox wrote that he was seeking to prevent 鈥渘ear-white negroids鈥� from being able to 鈥渕arry into the white race.鈥�
William H. Tucker described the Pioneer Fund鈥檚 legacy in his of the hate group:
Despite attempts to sanitize Pioneer鈥檚 image, it is undeniable that the fund was established to use science to pursue the goals of its founder: the preservation of white supremacy and white racial purity from the threat posed by blacks and undesirable immigrants, especially Jews鈥�
For decades, the Pioneer Fund did this by supporting like-minded scholars; publishing or republishing racist tracts and research and sending them to opinion leaders, institutions of higher learning, and elected officials; and bankrolling lobbying efforts against civil rights legislation and affirmative action policies.
Aside from Draper, the most important figure at the Pioneer Fund was Harry Frederick Weyher, Jr., who first became friends with聽Ellis when they were both undergraduates at the University of North Carolina.
鈥淸A]ll the segregationists鈥� projects intersected on Harry Weyher鈥檚 desk,鈥� wrote Tucker, and Weyher decided which projects received funding. After Draper鈥檚 death in 1972, Weyher ran the Pioneer Fund until his own death in 2002, as Tucker summarized:
Weyher would make Draper鈥檚 cause his own, heading the Pioneer Fund through the rest of the [20th] century, disbursing his mentor鈥檚 acknowledged and unacknowledged donations to the campaign against equality for blacks, organizing many of these efforts, monitoring their results, and becoming the heir not just to much of the Colonel鈥檚 fortune but also to his social policy agenda. If Pioneer was originally 鈥淒raper鈥檚 Fund,鈥� it was to become Weyher鈥檚.
One example of Ellis and Weyher collaborating occurred in the 1950s. According to Tucker, Ellis likely sent Weyher the work of University of North Carolina professor , including a pamphlet titled 鈥淭he Race Problem from the Standpoint of One Who Is Concerned with the Evils of Miscegenation.鈥� In it, George decried the 鈥減rotoplasmic mixing of the races鈥� which would 鈥渄estroy our race and civilization鈥� because African Americans were 鈥済enetically unacceptable.鈥� Weyher would fund George on the basis of this recommendation.聽
Around the same time, Ellis echoed George in his role opposing integration as special counsel to the , set up by the North Carolina governor to circumvent the Supreme Court ruling in Brown v. Board of Education. 鈥淸T]he present integration movement in the public schools is but a part of a planned social revolution in the South, fostered, directed and financed by non-southern whites...[whose] eventual goal鈥s racial intermarriage and the disappearance of the Negro race by fusing into the white,鈥� Ellis said.
Ellis and Weyher were both deeply involved in the fight against integration throughout the 1960s. The Pioneer Fund dumped millions into the Mississippi State Sovereignty Commission, which The New Republic 鈥渢he largest state-level spying effort in U.S. history,鈥� while Ellis in North Carolina considered legislation that would eliminate the tax-exempt status of black churches in order to target the spaces where the NAACP met to strategize integration efforts.
Pioneer Fund grantees were just as hostile to the idea of extending voting rights to African Americans as they were to the desegregation of public schools and interracial marriage. For instance, one major grantee, , wrote in 1967 that 鈥渢he unlimited suffrage concept is marginal [even for] an advanced and experienced race like the Anglo-American [but] to apply it to states or communities with high percentages of a retarded race is suicidal.鈥�
Farr Joins the聽Ellis Network
By 1973, Ellis officially joined the Pioneer Fund as a director on an invitation from Weyher. This fact only became public following a in 1977 which revealed a number of grant recipients, including Stanford University Professor William Shockley听补苍诲听顿谤. Arthur R. Jensen of the University of California 鈥� two towers of scientific racism 鈥� as well as Dr. Roger Pearson, a racist extremist who maintained ties with former Nazis.
At the same time, Ellis and North Carolina鈥檚 new Senator Jesse Helms, were creating a powerful political empire designed to influence both politics and policy against the rising tide of integration and civil rights. That venture further extended the reach of the Pioneer Fund in the political world. While a Pioneer director, Ellis developed a set of interlocking directorates and associations that shared leadership with the Pioneer Fund and relied, in part, on its funding. These relationships would continue even after Ellis resigned from the Pioneer Fund after his association was made public.聽
Ellis and Helms first met as aides during a 1950 North Carolina Senate campaign that was notorious for its racism and included ads that stated, 鈥淲hite people, wake up before it鈥檚 too late.鈥� After Helms鈥� first senate victory in 1972, a campaign which Ellis managed, Ellis created and chaired the North Carolina Congressional Club, a vehicle initially designed to retire the campaign鈥檚 debt. Ellis turned the state-based organization into the National Congressional Club, an incredibly powerful national political action committee that served the conservative movement for decades. A longstanding director of the Congressional Club, Marion Arendell Parrott, also served as a director of the Pioneer Fund.聽
By the late 1970s and into the 1980s, Ellis had developed a suite of organizations 鈥� both for-profit and tax-exempt 鈥� to complement the National Congressional Club and perform functions that it could not without running afoul of campaign finance or tax laws. These entities provided research and analysis to support legislative proposals, raised political money to elect like-minded candidates and developed messaging and communications.聽聽聽聽
In 1983, Farr became intricately engaged with this network of organizations when he joined the Raleigh, North Carolina-based law firm that bore Ellis鈥� name, Maupin, Taylor & Ellis. (William W. Taylor, Jr. to staff the Pearsall Committee).
Farr worked with Ellis at Maupin, Taylor & Ellis until 2003, and then followed Ellis to another firm where Farr is still a shareholder.
Only months before Farr joined Ellis鈥� firm, Ellis鈥� connections to the Pioneer Fund resurfaced following his to the Board for International Broadcasting. When asked during his hearing before a Senate Committee if the concept of racial inferiority intellectually offended him, Ellis first replied, 鈥淚 don鈥檛 know how to answer that question.鈥� Ellis added "I do not believe in my heart that I'm a racist." His Pioneer Fund association and other strong indicators of Ellis鈥檚 racist views forced Ellis to withdraw his nomination.
Despite national condemnation of his ties to the group, Ellis was shortly back in business with Weyher, and the money he controlled through the Pioneer Fund. Upon joining Maupin, Ellis & Taylor, Farr assumed the role of lawyer for many of Helms鈥� organizations, including those either聽bankrolled by the Pioneer Fund or, in the case of Marion Parrott, one that shared a board member. Farr鈥檚 answers to the Senate Judiciary Committee questionnaire lists his representation for the Helms for Senate Committee in 1984 and 1990 and the National Congressional Club for the same years.聽聽 聽
Farr also represented the component organizations of the network, although he failed to list these on his Senate Judiciary questionnaire. 聽Jefferson Marketing, Inc. was a political advertising and consulting for-profit corporation that generated direct mail fundraising solicitations and performed consulting services for right-wing candidates. Ellis served as director, and Douglas Davidson 鈥� who would later join forces with Farr in the 1990 Helms campaign鈥檚 voter suppression activity 鈥� was president. In the 1980s, Jefferson Marketing and the National Congressional Club were the subjects of a alleging that they operated as one organization in violation of campaign finance laws. Farr represented Jefferson Marketing and the National Congressional Club in defending the complaint, which resulted in financial penalties and a restructuring of the companies.聽
Farr鈥檚 law firm also represented the Coalition For Freedom, a tax-exempt organization within the network. Ellis was its principal director. This organization received hundreds of thousands of dollars from the Pioneer Fund throughout the 1980s.
The Coalition For Freedom relied on Farr鈥檚 law firm for organizing the interlocking entities to maximize their monetary and political influence. The Coalition For Freedom ended up making the contributions, resulting in an investigation by the Internal Revenue Service about whether the tax-exempt organization served a private interest to Jesse Helms, the Helms for Senate Committee and the National Congressional Club. The IRS ultimately Coalition For Freedom鈥檚 tax-exempt status because it had engaged in political campaign activities and provided a to the group's "insiders."聽聽
The network had other ties to the Pioneer Fund. After President Ronald Reagan鈥檚 landslide re-election in 1984, Ellis organized an attempted conservative shareholder takeover of the CBS television network with a new front group called .聽Ellis enlisted Weyher to serve as its lawyer. Helms sent letters to his base across the nation urging them to purchase CBS stock, which garnered the senator聽enormous publicity. When CBS , it pointed to Ellis and Weyher鈥檚 connections to the Pioneer Fund and noted Ellis鈥� opposition to racial integration in North Carolina.
"[Weyher] and Tom Ellis have been acquaintances for years, and we were interested in legal counsel [Weyher] who was one, competent, and second, even more importantly, understood what our concerns were philosophically," another member of Fairness in Media in 1985.
Farr鈥檚 Success in Racist Politics and Suppressing the Black Vote
In 1984, Helms, Ellis and Farr used their vast political network to suppress African American votes and scare up white resentment in Helms鈥� campaigns for senate. With Farr as lead counsel, the campaign circulated photos of opponent Governor Jim Hunt with African American leaders such as Jesse Jackson and cited Hunt鈥檚 support of voter registration, the Martin Luther King, Jr., holiday 鈥� the vote for which Helms infamously filibustered in the Senate 鈥� and the reauthorization of the Voting Rights Act. The campaign was even mentioned by the Supreme Court聽in a redistricting case, , as evidence of continued racism in North Carolina politics.
Farr also served as lead counsel for Helms鈥� senate campaign in 1990. The opponent was Harvey Gantt, the first black mayor of Charlotte. In its final days, the campaign ran an ad showing white hands crumpling a rejection letter with the announcer stating: 鈥淵ou needed that job, and you were the best qualified. But they had to give it to a minority because of a racial quota.鈥� Farr鈥檚 mentor Ellis was credited with authoring the ad. 聽
That same campaign engaged in voter suppression so egregious that the Justice Department under President George H.W. Bush filed a complaint for intimidating black voters in violation of the Voting Rights Act. Specifically, the campaign to mostly black voters in North Carolina one week before the election. The postcards suggested the voters were ineligible to vote and threatened jail time. The Justice Department complaint found that the mailing was undertaken to influence the senate election and had the purpose and effect of intimidating and threatening black voters from exercising their right to vote. A North Carolina voter who received the postcard recently : 鈥淲e were looking at it, and it just seemed like you would basically be afraid to go vote, in case you would do something wrong鈥nd the wording on the card just gave you a chill.鈥�
The Justice Department鈥檚 voting rights complaint identified familiar faces within the organizations and persons connected to Helms and Ellis鈥� empire. Among those named as defendants were the Helms for Senate Committee; Jefferson Marketing and three of its wholly owned subsidiaries; and Douglas Davidson who had served as president of Jefferson Marketing and was identified as an agent of the Helms for Senate Committee and having supervisory control over Jefferson Marketing company personnel.聽
The complaint alleged that in the summer of 1990 representatives of defendant Helms for Senate Committee and the North Carolina Republican Party had discussed whether to conduct a 鈥渟o-called ballot security program,鈥� in conjunction with the 1990 general election.聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽聽
The complaint continued:
鈥淥n or about October 16 and 17, 1990, Defendant Locke attended a series of meetings at which the 1990 ballot security program was discussed. Among those attending such meetings were defendant Davidson; Peter Moore, the campaign manager of Helms for Senate Committee; Mark Stephens, president of Jefferson Marketing; and an attorney who had been involved in past ballot security efforts on behalf of Senator Helms and/or defendant North Carolina Republican Party. During the meeting, some of the participants formed a tentative outline for the 1990 ballot security program, which included a mailing targeted to voters who may have changed residences.鈥� [Emphasis added]
The postcards were mailed on October 26 and 29 to selected households using voter registration lists maintained by Jefferson Marketing and utilized by the Helms for Senate Committee.
During his hearing this fall, Farr told the Senate Judiciary Committee he had no role in the mailing and heard about it only after being contacted by the Justice Department. Ranking member Dianne Feinstein (D-CA) asked Farr: 鈥淒id you provide any counsel, or were you consulted in any way, about the content of or the decision to end these postcards?鈥� Farr responded, 鈥淣o.鈥�
But a former Justice Department lawyer, Gerald Hebert, who worked on the case, .聽According to Hebert鈥檚 contemporaneous notes, Farr was the unnamed attorney聽who was also the primary "ballot security" person for the 1984 campaign. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 think [Farr] can really claim that the first he heard of it was from a Justice Department letter,鈥� Hebert said.聽
Farr鈥檚 Praise for his Mentor: An Unrepentant Racist
William H. Tucker, the author of the history of the Pioneer Fund, uncovered correspondence between Senator Jesse Helms, Pioneer Fund president Harry Weyher and Marion Parrott, a board member of both Pioneer and Helms鈥� Congressional Club, yucking it up as late as the 1990s:
More contemporary correspondence in the genealogy indicated that even in the 1990s, in the clubby atmosphere characterizing the exchanges between North Carolina political insiders, Weyher and his friends 鈥斅燬enator Jesse Helms and fellow Pioneer board member Marion Parrott, a relative of Weyher鈥檚 鈥斅爏till referred to white Southerners who voted for a black candidate as 鈥渟calawags鈥� and, only partially in jest, joked about how 鈥渢he Indians didn鈥檛 get enough of them.鈥�
Helms never apologized for his crusade against civil rights. In fact, his crusade never stopped. Helms fought until nearly the end of his time in the Senate to to U.S. Court of Appeals for the Fourth Circuit.
The same can be said of Helms' right-hand man and Farr鈥檚 mentor, Thomas Ellis. In 2001, Ellis was interviewed by The New York Times following the news that Helms was retiring from the senate. Asked about his time at the Pioneer Fund, Ellis was unmoved:
He has been pilloried for serving in the 1970s as a director of the Pioneer Fund, which financed research on the relationship between race and intelligence. He said it remained an open question in his mind whether one race was genetically superior. ''I have no idea,'' he said, seated beneath a portrait of Robert E. Lee. ''I've never tested it, don't know whether it's a valid argument or not. Because there is such a huge cry about the thing, you can't have a legitimate, intelligent argument about it.''
Six years later, in 2007, Farr spoke at a private event at the North Carolina Museum of Art 鈥�in honor of Tom Ellis.鈥� The occasion was Ellis receiving聽the Freedom Leadership Award from Farr鈥檚 alma mater Hillsdale College, a deeply conservative college located in Michigan which long ago decided to forgo federal funding to with civil rights laws. A from the late Christian Right leader Howard Phillips is all that exists as a record of the event and notes that Farr and the Hillsdale College president delivered remarks. In his Senate questionnaire, Farr said he did not have a copy of his speech to share with the committee.
For more than 30 years Farr worked side-by-side with Ellis in an escalating war against voting and labor rights that predominantly targeted聽black North Carolinians. Together they fought on behalf of Helms, and perfected the potent political appeal to white racial grievance. Their North Carolina network included聽people like the Pioneer Fund鈥檚 Weyher and Parrott,聽men who provided funding and guidance to their efforts for decades. It served them well. And for Ellis and Helms, neither paid a price.
Indeed, with the election of President Trump, the Ellis and Helms approach to politics returned and with it came a resurgent white nationalist movement. Ideas long relegated to the fringe, especially those kept alive by groups and individuals supported by the Pioneer Fund, found massive new audiences on聽social media platforms like Twitter and YouTube. 聽
The legacy of the Pioneer Fund, however, is not best measured by the number of white supremacists who marched in Charlottesville this past August. Rather, it should be measured by the legal and policy approaches that, like the 鈥渕onster鈥� voter suppression law in North Carolina, target black voters 鈥渨ith almost surgical precision.鈥�
Farr was groomed as part of a project long in the making. In a low irony, if Farr is confirmed to the bench, it will extend the record to 143 years that the Eastern District of North Carolina has been without a black judge.
