It’s fair
to say that the whole tone of William
Bradford’s Of Plymouth Plantation—and also,
quite literally, of the Pilgrims’ first experiences in America, as Bradford
describes them at least—changes with the arrival of Squanto (paragraph 136 in
that edition). From that first mention it’s clear that this is a man with a
complex identity and perspective: he is described as “a native of this place”
but also one who has “been in England,” and with his two languages he connects
the Pilgrims to the local Wampanoag chief Massasoit, with whom they make their
first peace treaty. And Bradford finds Squanto’s experiences, as a kidnapped
slave turned explorer and translator, compelling enough to spend most of the
rest of this chapter quoting another Englishman’s narrative of them.
Partly
Bradford’s extended focus is due to his culturally myopic sense of Squanto as
literally a gift from God, “a special instrument sent of God for their good
beyond their expectation.” Yet if we set aside the paternalism and, again,
myopia necessary to define another person as an instrument for one’s own good,
Bradford’s descriptions, coupled with the history provided in the extended
narrative, can help us realize a striking and crucial fact: Squanto turned a
horrific and traumatic set of experiences, ones based directly on cultural
conflict and oppression, into a perspective and life that worked toward and
indeed modeled cultural conversation and connection. He did so, it seems clear,
for the good both of the Pilgrims and of the Wampanoags, and more exactly for
the good of the new community that came into existence the second those two
peoples met. What’s more patriotic than that?
As will be
the case for all of this week’s focal figures, there’s plenty more, and more
complexity and even tragedy, in Squanto’s story and what it symbolizes than I
can get into here. The arc of the
17th century in Massachusetts was not, after all, toward justice. Yet if I
have one overarching argument here, it’s the same one that’s at the heart of my
fourth book: we can’t seek our ideal America, nor our ideal Americans, by
eliding the darkest histories; instead we have to look to precisely those
histories and find the genuine and impressive patriots who lived and engaged
with and responded to them. Tisquantum’s a great place to start.
Next
patriot tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What
do you think? Any nominations?
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