Democracy, in Lincoln's famous formulation, means
"government of the people, by the people, and for the people." But
this begs the question of who constitute "the people." The Revolution
had given birth to a republic rhetorically founded on liberty but resting
economically in large measure on slavery. Slavery had been central to colonial
development, and slavery helped to define American understandings of freedom in
the colonial era and the nineteenth century. From the very first meeting of
Congress, when the Pennsylvania Society for Promoting the Abolition of Slavery
presented a petition for
universal liberty, slavery was a source of division in the new nation. Of
course, as ubiquitous newspaper
advertisements seeking the return of fugitives attested, slaves and
indentured servants (bound to labor for a specific number of years, not life)
sometimes expressed their own commitment to freedom by running away.
Later, northern abolitionists organized "vigilance committees" to
assist fugitives; Philadelphia's was run by the free African American William
Still, who carefully recorded
the details about runaway slaves who arrived in the city and later
published a book, The Underground Rail Road, that bore witness to the
many acts of self-emancipation.
Nonetheless, slavery helped to shape the
identity—the sense of self—of all Americans, giving nationhood from the outset
a powerful exclusionary dimension. Even as Americans celebrated their freedom,
the definition of those entitled to enjoy the "blessings of liberty"
protected by the Constitution came to be defined by race. No black person,
declared the US Supreme Court in 1857, could ever be an American citizen.
Yet, at the same time, the struggle by outcasts
and outsiders—the abolitionists, the slaves, and free blacks
themselves—reinvigorated the notion of freedom as a universal birthright, a
truly human ideal. The antislavery crusade insisted on the
"Americanness" of both enslaved and free blacks and repudiated not
only slavery but the racial boundaries that confined free blacks to
second-class status. Abolitionists pioneered the idea of a national citizenship
whose members enjoyed equality before the law, protected by a beneficent
national state. And the movement offered a way for those excluded from the
suffrage, most notably free blacks and women, to participate in political life
in other ways—by circulating petitions, delivering speeches, and seeking to
change public sentiment about slavery.
The abolitionist movement also inspired other
groups, especially women, to stake their own claims to greater freedom in the
young republic. The long contest over slavery gave new meaning to personal
liberty, political community, and the rights attached to American citizenship.
Abolitionism, wrote Angelina Grimké, the daughter of a South Carolina
slaveholder who became a prominent abolitionist and women's rights activist,
was the nation's preeminent "school in which human rights are . .
. investigated." Leaders of the movement for women's suffrage, such as
Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton, arose out of the abolitionist
movement. After the Civil War, however, when Congress (including Radical
Republicans who had supported women's suffrage) moved to enfranchise black men
but not women, white or black, many women's suffragists concluded that women
could not place their trust in male-dominated political movements. Women,
Stanton and Anthony now insisted, must form their own organizations
to press the case for equal rights. It would take another half century of struggle
for
women to win the right to vote. But in an ironic reversal of the situation in
Reconstruction, when the rights of black men took precedence over those of
women, leaders of the women's suffrage movement assured southern legislatures
that the Nineteenth Amendment, added to the Constitution in 1920, would not
affect laws disenfranchising blacks, male or female, through property and
literacy tests and poll taxes.
The Civil War, of course, destroyed slavery and
placed the question of black citizenship on the national agenda. Although the
Confederacy's vice president, Alexander H. Stephens, identified slavery as the
"cornerstone" of the Confederacy at the war's outset, many
southerners, such as South Carolina plantation owner Thomas Drayton, insisted, "We are fighting
for home & liberty." But when Abraham Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation on
January 1, 1863, the cause of the Union became inextricably linked to the
promise of freedom for the slaves. The Proclamation also authorized for the
first time the enrollment of black men in the Union army. Initially paid less
than white troops, the black soldiers mobilized to demand equal compensation,
which Congress granted in 1864 and 1865. Black men, one officer wrote, had
moved "one step nearer
owning their rights as men."
In the crucible of the Civil War and
Reconstruction, the abolitionist principles of birthright citizenship and equal
protection of the law without regard to race were written into the
Constitution—an attempt to strip American freedom of its identification with
whiteness. But these changes affected all Americans, not just the former
slaves. The Fourteenth Amendment made the Constitution what it had never been
before—a vehicle through which aggrieved groups can take their claims that they
lack equality and freedom to court. Reconstruction failed to secure black
freedom and was followed by a long period of inequality for black Americans.
But the laws and amendments of the Civil War era remained on the
books—"sleeping giants" in the Constitution, as Senator Charles Sumner
called them—waiting to be awakened in the twentieth century by another
generation of Americans in what they would call the "freedom
movement."
No comments:
Post a Comment