[In honor of the 4th of July, a series highlighting various historical and cultural contexts for this uniquely American holiday. Leading up to a special weekend post on patriotism in 2022!]
On
important historical contexts for a frustrating founding text, and why the
frustrations remain nonetheless.
In this July 4th,
2015 piece for Talking Points Memo, my second most-viewed piece in my
year and a half of contributing bi-monthly columns to TPM, I highlighted and
analyzed the cut paragraph on slavery and King George from Thomas Jefferson’s
draft version of the Declaration of Independence. Rather than repeat what I
said there, I’d ask you to take a look at that piece (or at least the opening
half of it, as the second half focuses on other histories and figures) and then
come back here for a couple important follow-ups.
Welcome
back! As a couple commenters on that post noted (and as I tried to discuss
further in my responses to their good comments), I didn’t engage in the piece
with a definitely relevant historical context: that the English Royal
Governor of Virginia, Lord Dunmore, had in November 1775 issued (from on
board a warship anchored just off the Virginia coast) a
prominent Proclamation both condemning Virginian and American
revolutionaries, declaring martial law in the colony, and offering the prospect
of freedom to any African American enslaved people who left their owners and
joined the English forces opposing them. A number of enslaved people apparently
took Dunmore up on the offer, and so when Jefferson writes that “he [King
George] is now exciting these very people to rise in arms among us,” he might
have been attributing the idea to the wrong Englishman but was generally
accurate about those English efforts. Yet of course Jefferson’s misattribution
is no small error, as it turns a wartime decision by one English leader (and a
somewhat unofficial one at that, as it’s not at all clear to me that Dunmore
had the authority to make such an offer nor that the Crown would necessarily or
consistently have upheld it) into a defining feature of the relationship
between England and the colonies.
There are
significantly bigger problems with Jefferson’s paragraph than that
misattribution, however. And to my mind, by far the biggest is his definition
of African American enslaved people as a foreign, “distant people,” not simply
in their African origins (and of course many late 18th century enslaved
people had been born in the colonies) but in their continued identity here in
America. Moreover, Jefferson describes this distant people as having been
“obtruded” upon the colonists, an obscure word that means “to impose or force
on someone in an intrusive way.” And moreover moreover, Jefferson then directly
contrasts the enslaved people’s desire for liberty with the colonists’
Revolutionary efforts (and thus their desire for liberty), a philosophical
opposition that excludes these Americans from the moment and its histories just
as fully as his definitions and descriptions exclude them from the developing
American community. As I’ve highlighted in many different pieces over the
years, a number of prominent enslaved people—from Crispus
Attucks and Phillis
Wheatley to Elizabeth
Freeman and Quock Walker—had already proved and would continue to
prove Jefferson quite wrong. But for as smart and thoughtful a person as TJ, it
shouldn’t have required such individuals to help him see how much African
American enslaved people were an integral, inclusive
part of Revolutionary Virginia and America.
Next July
4th context tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What
do you think? Other 4th of July histories or contexts you’d
highlight?
No comments:
Post a Comment