Few American lawyers can claim to have played a more pivotal role in reshaping the legal and moral landscape of the nation than Thurgood Marshall did before he ever wore a Supreme Court justice’s robe. His early work as the lead attorney for the NAACP Legal Defense and Educational Fund, coupled with his subsequent judicial and executive branch appointments, made him an unparalleled force in dismantling legalized segregation and safeguarding civil liberties. By the time President Lyndon B. Johnson nominated him to the Supreme Court in 1967, Marshall had already won countless victories in state and federal courts, culminating in his landmark victory in Brown v. Board of Education (1954). But the move from the courtroom trenches of civil rights litigation to the hallowed halls of the Supreme Court was neither sudden nor free of controversy. It was, instead, the product of decades of strategic labor, political negotiation, and the profound social shifts taking place in mid-twentieth-century America.
In this chapter, we trace Marshall’s journey from courtroom advocate to the highest bench in the land. We begin with his transformative years at the NAACP Legal Defense Fund, examining how that experience shaped his interpretive lens on the Constitution and civil rights. We then explore his elevation to the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit and his subsequent role as U.S. Solicitor General, discussing how these roles primed him for the complexities of Supreme Court adjudication. Finally, we delve into the political drama surrounding his Supreme Court nomination and confirmation, illustrating how his appointment underscored both a momentous triumph for civil rights and the unresolved racial tensions that continued to define American society.
Thurgood Marshall’s rise to prominence was inextricably tied to his work with the NAACP Legal Defense and Educational Fund (LDF). Fresh out of Howard University School of Law, and spurred by the mentorship of Charles Hamilton Houston, Marshall joined the small but dedicated team of attorneys at the LDF. Working under Houston’s systematic approach, Marshall contributed to a series of lawsuits aimed at chipping away at the legal foundations of segregation. This was a highly strategic endeavor: rather than attacking “separate but equal” policies in every context all at once, the NAACP lawyers targeted specific discrepancies in graduate and professional programs, where it was easiest to show the gross inequalities between white and Black institutions.
Among Marshall’s early major successes was the case Murray v. Pearson (1936), which forced the University of Maryland School of Law—ironically, the very institution that had previously denied Marshall admission due to his race—to desegregate. This victory not only showcased Marshall’s formidable courtroom presence; it also provided a powerful symbolic victory, indicating that segregation was not an impregnable fortress. Other cases soon followed, challenging segregated law schools in Missouri, Oklahoma, and Texas. At each juncture, Marshall and his colleagues laid out detailed evidence of the inferiority of the segregated facilities provided for Black students, thereby undercutting the premise that “separate” could ever truly be “equal.”
The capstone of this incremental litigation strategy was Brown v. Board of Education. Argued before the Supreme Court in 1952 and again in 1953, Brown consolidated multiple suits challenging the segregated public school systems in Kansas, South Carolina, Virginia, and Delaware. Marshall’s arguments emphasized that state-mandated segregation inflicted psychological harm on Black children, creating a stigma of inferiority that violated the Fourteenth Amendment’s Equal Protection Clause. By appealing not only to constitutional text but also to social science research, Marshall and his team highlighted the real-world consequences of segregation.
When the Supreme Court unanimously struck down school segregation in 1954, Chief Justice Earl Warren’s opinion echoed many of Marshall’s contentions, asserting that separate educational facilities were “inherently unequal.” For a time, Brown stood as the legal embodiment of the hopes shared by millions of African Americans. Yet, it also sparked fierce resistance. Schools in various regions, particularly the Deep South, adopted creative (and often outright defiant) tactics to delay integration. Nevertheless, Brown solidified Marshall’s national reputation as the era’s foremost civil rights lawyer.
By the late 1950s, he had become Director-Counsel of the NAACP LDF, coordinating legal strategies nationwide and broadening the scope of civil rights advocacy to include voting rights, housing, and employment discrimination. While Brown was the headline achievement, Marshall’s broader docket showed a mind trained on systemic injustice in all its forms. This trajectory of relentless litigation cultivated in Marshall a deep conviction that the judiciary could act as a powerful engine for progressive change—if the right arguments were presented by skillful advocates, and if judges upheld the spirit of the Fourteenth Amendment.
Marshall’s transition from civil rights litigator to federal judge happened in 1961, when President John F. Kennedy appointed him to the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit. His appointment faced immediate opposition from segregationist senators, who recognized Marshall’s record of challenging Jim Crow laws and feared the transformative potential he would bring to the bench. Yet, thanks in part to the support of moderates and liberals in the Senate, he was ultimately confirmed.
Once on the Second Circuit, Marshall surprised neither his supporters nor detractors in the tone of his opinions. He authored over 100 opinions during his four-year tenure, none of which were reversed by the Supreme Court. His appellate decisions consistently emphasized that constitutional rights must be interpreted and enforced in ways that truly protected individuals, especially those most vulnerable to governmental overreach or discrimination. While some critics labeled him a judicial activist, Marshall saw himself as fulfilling the Constitution’s mandate for equal justice under law.
Analyzing Marshall’s appellate opinions offers an early blueprint for the approach he would later bring to the Supreme Court. He was, for instance, typically skeptical of broad government authority over individuals’ rights. Cases pertaining to criminal procedure, especially those involving coerced confessions or unlawful searches, found Marshall parsing the Constitution’s protections in a manner that favored a robust reading of due process and the Fourth Amendment. Likewise, he took a principled stance against discrimination, whether based on race, religion, or other characteristics, thereby reflecting the values he had championed at the NAACP.
Although he was obligated to respect precedent set by higher courts, Marshall’s Second Circuit work revealed a willingness to push the law’s boundaries when he believed justice demanded it. At times, his opinions would cite previous Supreme Court decisions only to highlight the ways in which they could be expanded to address new factual scenarios. Critics might interpret such moves as activist, but Marshall considered them a logical extension of the Supreme Court’s own reasoning. This tension between judicial activism and fidelity to precedent would later become a defining aspect of his Supreme Court service.
Marshall’s reputation for incisive legal reasoning and unwavering commitment to civil rights did not go unnoticed. In 1965, President Lyndon B. Johnson appointed Marshall as the U.S. Solicitor General, making him the federal government’s top advocate before the Supreme Court. This was a role of tremendous significance, often referred to as the “tenth justice” because of the Solicitor General’s close relationship with the Court.
As Solicitor General, Marshall argued cases on behalf of the federal government, defending the constitutionality of legislation such as the Voting Rights Act of 1965. In effect, he was tasked with articulating the Johnson administration’s legal positions, which at that time were oriented toward expanding civil rights protections. The role showcased his versatility: rather than representing individual clients or causes as he had at the NAACP, Marshall now had to balance the broader interests of the executive branch and the nation.
During his tenure, he argued more than a dozen cases before the Supreme Court, displaying a candor and clarity that many justices came to appreciate, even those who were ideologically opposed to him. Crucially, Marshall’s time as Solicitor General allowed him to see the judicial process from a different angle. He was no longer an outsider pushing for revolutionary change; he was now the face of federal power in the courtroom. This dual perspective—having litigated against the state in civil rights suits and subsequently litigating on behalf of the state—would later inform his stance on the bench, particularly in cases where defendants clashed with law enforcement or federal agencies.
The Solicitor General’s office stands at the crossroad of law, policy, and politics. For Marshall, it was an ideal vantage point from which to observe how congressional statutes, executive branch priorities, and Supreme Court interpretations converged. Many of the legislative gains of the 1960s’ “Great Society” era, including expansive social welfare programs and robust civil rights statutes, were tested in the courts, forcing Marshall to craft arguments that balanced constitutional interpretations with executive prerogatives.
This experience reinforced Marshall’s belief that constitutional law was neither inert nor divorced from the real world; it was malleable, shaped by shifting social and political contexts. Such insights would prove invaluable on the Supreme Court, particularly in cases that required reconciling historical precedent with evolving norms about equality and personal freedom. While some critics maintained that his background as a civil rights lawyer had rendered him predisposed to activist decisions, Marshall’s Solicitor General tenure established that he was also adept at administering the law on behalf of the government, tempering his idealism with pragmatic considerations of precedent and institutional boundaries.
Marshall’s appointment to the Supreme Court by President Lyndon B. Johnson was the culmination of a longstanding relationship between the two men. Johnson viewed Marshall as a legal luminary whose presence on the bench would serve both moral and symbolic purposes. The moral rationale was plain: Marshall’s unparalleled commitment to civil rights and legal excellence would strengthen the Court’s liberal wing. The symbolic rationale was equally powerful: appointing the first African American justice to the nation’s highest court underscored the President’s vision of a Great Society in which racial barriers were being systematically dismantled.
Yet, Johnson’s decision was also a shrewd political move. By placing Marshall on the Court, he solidified his administration’s civil rights legacy. Though the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965 were monumental legislative achievements, their efficacy and enduring authority would ultimately hinge on judicial interpretation. Installing a justice who had fought tooth and nail for those very principles helped safeguard their long-term viability.
The confirmation process, while ultimately successful, was not without controversy. Southern segregationist senators viewed Marshall’s record with hostility and tried to block or at least delay his appointment. They subjected him to numerous probing questions about constitutional theory and legal precedent, seeking to frame him as an activist who would undermine states’ rights. Marshall, for his part, navigated this political minefield by emphasizing his adherence to established legal principles.
One particularly memorable exchange involved Senator James Eastland of Mississippi, known for his staunch opposition to civil rights. Eastland attempted to paint Marshall’s previous litigation efforts and judicial rulings as hostile to white Southerners. With characteristic poise, Marshall countered that his legal arguments were grounded in constitutional provisions that demand equal protection for all citizens. In doing so, he highlighted the irony of having to defend the Constitution to those who ostensibly claimed to revere it.
Despite these pointed interrogations, Marshall’s confirmatory hearings could not undercut his sterling legal credentials. He had arguably more courtroom experience than many of the sitting justices combined, and his role in shaping some of the most famous legal rulings of the twentieth century was indisputable. On August 30, 1967, the Senate voted 69–11 to confirm him, marking an historic moment as he became the first African American justice on the Supreme Court.
Marshall’s swearing-in on October 2, 1967, captured the nation’s attention. Newspapers across the country featured headlines celebrating the milestone, often juxtaposing images of the newly appointed justice with photos from earlier civil rights struggles, such as the Montgomery bus boycott or the March on Washington. For many African Americans and other supporters of civil rights, Marshall’s ascent to the Supreme Court signaled a triumphant achievement—a living testament to how far the country had come since the era of legalized segregation.
Yet, there were also those who bristled at his appointment. Conservative editorials lamented that the Court was tipping too far left, suggesting that Marshall’s addition would lead to an era of unchecked judicial activism. Such critics saw Marshall as the embodiment of the Warren Court’s progressive ethos, which they believed had overextended constitutional guarantees in areas like criminal defendants’ rights and racial integration.
In reality, Marshall joined a Court on the brink of transition. Chief Justice Earl Warren would retire in 1969, and President Richard Nixon’s subsequent appointments would gradually steer the Court in a more conservative direction. Hence, Marshall’s presence would increasingly become a bulwark against the rollback of liberal precedents, placing him in the role of vigorous dissenter when he could not sway the majority.
Marshall’s appointment was a watershed moment not just for African Americans but for all historically marginalized groups in the United States. It signaled that the highest echelons of judicial power were not automatically foreclosed to those who did not fit the traditional mold of white, male legal elites. In this sense, his elevation resembled that of other “firsts” in American history—first woman in space, first Catholic president, first female Supreme Court justice—in that it cracked the ceiling of exclusion for future generations.
However, it would be a mistake to view Marshall’s appointment as a cure-all for racial disparities within the legal system. Even after 1967, discrimination remained deeply rooted in many facets of American life. The fact that it took nearly a quarter-century before another African American justice, Clarence Thomas, would join the Court (in 1991) testifies to the slow pace of demographic change within the judiciary. Nevertheless, Marshall’s presence effectively challenged the implicit assumption that only white justices could interpret the Constitution. It opened pathways for more diverse perspectives on the bench, although progress in that regard would continue to be incremental.
The shift from NAACP litigator to Supreme Court justice did not mean that Marshall left behind his core commitment to civil rights. If anything, his life experiences—encounters with discrimination, triumphs in legal battles—sharpened his conviction that the Constitution must be a living document, adaptable to the moral exigencies of the time. As a litigator, he had asked judges to read the Fourteenth Amendment in a manner that exposed the fundamental contradictions of segregation; as a justice, he would ask his colleagues to apply similar rigor in assessing cases about the death penalty, affirmative action, and police powers.
Simultaneously, the demands of being a justice differed significantly from those of being an advocate. Whereas an advocate is free to frame issues in the most advantageous way for a particular client or cause, a justice is constrained by institutional norms. He or she must confer with colleagues, compromise on language, and sometimes relinquish a preferred position to maintain a fragile majority. Over time, Marshall would evolve into a justice known for his willingness to pen dissents that illuminated an alternative vision of constitutional law, especially when the majority’s ruling threatened to chip away at the rights of vulnerable populations.
In retrospect, Marshall’s ascension to the Supreme Court can be viewed as the closing of one chapter in American legal history and the opening of another. The chapter that closed was the NAACP’s era of direct challenges to Jim Crow through strategic litigation—an approach that had proven immensely effective in toppling the legal basis of segregation. The chapter that opened was an era in which civil rights attorneys, as well as social activists, would look to one of their own in the highest court, hoping that he could steer jurisprudence in a more inclusive direction.
Of course, the realities of Supreme Court decision-making limited Marshall’s ability to singlehandedly direct the Court’s course. Nevertheless, his voice—often in the majority during the late 1960s and early 1970s and increasingly in dissent from the mid-1970s onward—would shape conversations about criminal justice, race, gender equality, and myriad other topics for nearly a quarter-century. In that sense, Marshall’s journey from courtroom advocate to Supreme Court justice was more than personal—it was emblematic of a nation struggling to align its laws with evolving conceptions of justice and equality.
Marshall’s swearing-in marked a significant day in U.S. history, but also a poignant moment for a man who had spent his life fighting systemic oppression. His confirmation was both a personal triumph—proving that the American legal system could, however belatedly, recognize talent and integrity regardless of skin color—and a national milestone that reaffirmed the profound transformation initiated by the civil rights movement.
Yet, the Court that Marshall joined in 1967 was about to undergo its own transformations. Chief Justice Warren would soon retire, ushering in a more conservative phase under Chief Justice Warren Burger. The ideological battle lines of the 1970s and 1980s—involving issues from abortion to criminal procedure to affirmative action—would test the limits of Marshall’s influence. His votes and opinions, whether in the majority or in passionate dissent, would become a touchstone for those who believed the Court’s role was to protect the powerless and to interpret the Constitution in a manner that fulfills its egalitarian promise.
In the chapters to come, we will explore in detail Marshall’s jurisprudential contributions during his tenure on the Supreme Court. We will examine how his background as a civil rights advocate informed his reading of the Constitution, and how he managed to articulate sweeping principles of fairness and justice even when the political winds turned against him. Through discussions of his majority opinions, concurrences, and especially dissents, the narrative will illuminate Marshall’s role as both a preserver of the Warren Court’s legacy and a forward-thinking voice whose moral clarity occasionally put him at odds with the emerging conservative majority.
With Chapter II, we have arrived at the doorstep of Marshall’s Supreme Court career. The journey that began in the segregated classrooms and courthouses of the American South would soon shape the nation’s legal policies at their highest level. As we turn to Chapter III, we will chart Marshall’s judicial philosophy in more depth, unveiling the principles that guided his decisions and the degree to which he managed to persuade his colleagues and the country to embrace a bolder interpretation of constitutional rights. In doing so, we will come to understand why the transition from advocate to justice was both a logical continuation of Marshall’s life’s work and a watershed moment that forever changed the complexion of the Supreme Court—and the trajectory of American law.