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445 pages, Kindle Edition
Published December 2, 2025
For example, it is no longer possible to write credibly about the French and American Revolutions without engaging with their complex relationships around slavery and race, or by confining the analysis to conversations and interactions among white citizens only – many of whom owned enslaved people.
Even those who wrote sympathetically about the plight of the enslaved before the nineteenth-century abolitions, such as radical Enlightenment pamphleteers and local Christian missionaries, typically approached the issue from a position of intellectual and moral superiority. ... As pointed out by one commentator, ‘[Diderot’s] black person is unable to move beyond a literary existence.’... Indeed, these writings tended to be contemptuous of the spirituality of the captives, which they dismissed as ‘superstitions’.
It should be self-evident but let us make the point anyway: the enslaved did not begin to think about their emancipation only when European philosophers happened to start expressing unease about the morality of human bondage in the salons of the Enlightenment.
Slavery existed in Africa, however, long before the advent of the transatlantic trade and European colonialism.
Catholic ecclesiastical hierarchies became actively complicit in Atlantic slavery, from its theological justifications as a form of divine redemption and persecutions of African religions to the forced baptisms of captives, the presence of churches in coastal slave forts (in some instances, as at Elmina, directly above the dungeons where prisoners were held), and the naming of slave ships after Christian saints. For example, there were British slave vessels called Saint George, Saint Michael, Saint Paul, Saint Thomas, and Saint David.
...Islam did not offer a blanket opposition to slavery, and many of the major Islamic caliphates were heavily engaged in the Atlantic slave trade, even though they did not sell members of their own faith. But Islamic teachings could inspire and justify individual oppositions to slavery by dissenting figures...
The determination to resist enslavement at all costs forced the slavers to remain on their guard, and to redesign the ships so as to make rebellions and suicides less likely, by creating a fortified ‘barricado’ within the deck area and increasing the number of crew members; these measures, in turn, led to an increase in the costs of slave-shipping. Marine insurance lawyers were forced to debate and take into account the humanity of the enslaved, and recognize their desire for freedom. Most importantly, this resistance is thought to have significantly reduced the number of captives transported across the Atlantic.
It is sometimes claimed that before the Age of Revolutions in the late eighteenth century the enslaved had no real understanding of the concept of freedom, except in personal, self-interested, or ‘ethnic’ terms, and that their opposition to enslavement was thus at best conditional. The cumulative evidence from this chapter demonstrates that this view is incorrect.
In this sense, Islam shared several other similarities with Obeah. It was both a source of refuge as well as potential rebellion and remained true to its African origins
This union included the colony’s white settlers, and was perhaps the boldest component of Louverture’s dream. It envisioned a state of affairs no previous Atlantic enslaved insurgency had aspired to or even imagined: the forging of a constructive relationship between the emancipated and their former enslavers, on the basis of civil equality, forgiveness, and mutual respect.
Haiti’s post-independence isolation was arguably a vindication of Toussaint’s caution. But this approach blunted Toussaint’s sensitivity to the immediate and human effects of his harsh labour regime, and the way it reminded many labourers of the servitude they had experienced before 1791.
More significant for our purposes is what Bolívar’s exchanges with Pétion in 1816 reveal about Haitian black internationalism at this juncture. When Pétion agreed to provide Haitian military assistance to Bolívar, the Haitian president was in a position of relative strength, and asked the Liberator for two commitments in return. The first, which is widely known and commented on, was the abolition of slavery, which Bolívar agreed to (but he backtracked quickly, and the 1819 Angostura Congress that appointed him president made no mention of abolition). The second pledge was that any Africans taken from slave-trading vessels by insurgent republican privateers would be turned over to the Haitian government; Bolívar made a commitment to do so.
To make the same point in ‘Haitian’ terms, the Dominican maroons were Makandalist, but not Dessalinist. They cherished their autonomy but wanted to be free and self-sufficient, and they had no interest in holding power in a centralized state.
All the rebellions had Haitian-style general emancipation as their primary goal, although how this liberty was to be achieved could vary considerably, depending on circumstances as well as local preferences: the options included self-emancipation (Dominica), coercing colonial authorities into granting freedom (Demerara), capturing sovereign power (Louisiana), breaking free from colonial rule and creating a state on the Haitian model (Barbados), and taking flight to the Haitian land of liberty (Virginia).
Compensation was handed out to some 46,000 British slavers, highlighting the pivotal nature of slavery in the national economy....In other words, slavers were compensated through general taxation by generations of ordinary British men and women, including many people of Afro-Caribbean descent.
The Church of England too endorsed British slavery, producing slave bibles which were heavily edited to remove all references that could be interpreted as opposing human bondage or encouraging emancipation.
Fourteen years before British emancipation, the idea of compensating slavers for their losses was already fully endorsed by Britain’s chief abolitionists, even as they condemned the immorality of the slave trade, and were denouncing slavers for treating their captives as chattel.
These three black narratives made powerful interventions in the British abolitionist debate in the later eighteenth century. Gronniosaw, Equiano, and Cugoano challenged widespread views – held by both slavers and abolitionists – about the barbarity of Africans, and robustly asserted their full and unqualified membership of the human race.
Also in alignment with British abolitionists, the organization’s position on emancipation remained strictly gradualist. As de Broglie put it in a speech to the French parliament in 1822: ‘slavery is an ill for which freedom is not the immediate cure’. This was exactly what Wilberforce and Clarkson were saying at the time in London.
Initiating an interpretation among progressives that proved enduring (and remains common in France to this day), the Haitian revolution was presented not as an autonomous struggle of enslaved captives, but as a by-product of the 1789 Revolution.
Some French gradualist pamphleteers, such as Charles Coquerel, argued that it would be appropriate for captives to contribute to their own liberation by working three days a week for their masters. This form of indentured emancipation demonstrated that, like their British counterparts, French metropolitan abolitionists had no moral qualms about making the enslaved pay for their freedom.
As Aimé Césaire later observed, black populations were driven by the active democratic sentiment that ‘freedom does not fall from the sky, and it is never completely granted, but taken and conquered’.
Lincoln declared in 1860 that he did not believe in racial equality, and many abolitionists were critical of his prudent constitutionalism. In the characteristically blunt evaluation of Frederick Douglass, Lincoln was ‘pre-eminently the white man’s president’ at the time of his entry into the White House, and he was ‘ready and willing at any time during the first years of his administration to deny, postpone and sacrifice the rights of humanity in the coloured people to promote the welfare of the white people’.
It was blurred (to the advantage of the enslavers) by the 1850 Fugitive Slave Act, by the widespread incidence of racial discrimination and prejudice in the North, and by the 1857 Dred Scott Supreme Court ruling entrenching the idea that African Americans, whether free or enslaved, had ‘no rights which the white man was bound to respect’ and could therefore never become full citizens of the United States.
The American collective memory of the Civil War pivoted to an emphasis on national reconciliation between Northern and Southern whites, reinterpreting the conflict as a struggle to preserve the Union. Against this backdrop, the abolitionist narrative that viewed the Civil War as a conflict about slavery was gradually marginalized, and the contributions of African Americans to the emancipation process were erased.
Moreover, the prominence given to individual insurgent leaders somewhat obscured the collective dimensions of resistance, and the key fact which has been illustrated throughout this book, namely that all rebellions were grounded in acts of co-operation and solidarity among the enslaved; even an individual act of flight was underpinned by networks of community support.
The cumulative evidence demonstrates, I hope, that at all times the enslaved made major contributions to their freedom, and that emancipation cannot be understood without appreciating their critical agency in all these domains.
Haiti was an admired exemplar for black Atlantic communities but not a model. Its force resided in its role as a symbol of black martial valour and capacity for self-government, rather than a template for complete emulation.
After 1804, Haiti provided a refuge for all those (both enslaved and free) seeking to escape to a place where black sovereignty was recognized as a constitutional right. In other words, Haiti represented the ideal that united the different strands of resistance: the principle of autonomy.
In the United States the tendency likewise is to hone in on key individuals (Frederick Douglass, Harriet Tubman), whereas the more active forms of black resistance are avoided. This phenomenon is accentuated by the highly decentralized education system and the resurgence of a conservative white nationalism that seeks systematically to downplay the significance of slavery. In many widely used American textbooks, especially in private schools in the South, the Civil War is portrayed as a conflict about states’ rights, and enslaved people have even been described as ‘immigrants’. Moreover, plantation museums in the South generally continue to present the antebellum period in rosy terms.
However, even though Toussaint Louverture has become a national hero in France, the history of the Haitian revolution is not taught in secondary schools in the métropole; only students in overseas departments and territories are given the option of learning about it. The story of abolition remains focused around 1848, and classically framed as a vindication of triumphant French republicanism.