In “White over Black; American Attitudes Toward the Negro, 1550-1812” historian Winthrop Jordan summarizes the sometimes spotty colonial and revolutionary American historical record in order to unearth the origins of white hostility towards blacks. What emerges is a fascinating story of a community whose evolution is guided by the indivisible forces of an undeclared and largely unconscious moral war.
The introduction of slavery in North America, contends Jordan, just kind of happened. Although the original 17th century English settlers had no particular historical traditions that would tend to encourage slavery (indeed, if anything, it had quite the opposite), contempt for the poor and laboring classes of the sort that sanctioned and encouraged exploitation and abuse was part and parcel of the English concept of societal hierarchy. Yet as loathsome and cruel as the original leading colonists were to their poor, white indentured servants, there remained, nonetheless, a fundamental respect for the nominal rights of an Englishman. Although the historical record is ambiguous and full of holes, it appears as though the original colonists tended, at least at first, to be inclined to confer some semblance of those same rights upon those few African slaves who were imported to North America in the first few decades of colonization. Yet blackness, with its attendant cultural associations with evil, malice and filth (the cultural opposite of whiteness) was a tantalizing riddle to the English. Seen as savage, lascivious, barbaric and, above all, heathen, the few blacks introduced into colonies during the 17th century seemed somehow separate and contemptible relative to the white indentured servants beside whom they were forced to labor. This emerging sense of “difference” found expression in the passage of increasingly harsh laws throughout the latter half of the century which disqualified blacks from enjoying those nominal rights naturally due to an Englishman and established the legal framework for racial slavery. By the beginning of the 18th century, the Englishman’s demand that he never be treated like a slave became synonymous with never being treated like a black, and so, self-aggrandizing racial supremacy insinuated itself into the cultural DNA of the white settlers.
Once established, racial slavery assumed in the 18th century its own self-perpetuating, sophistry-rich logic. It was originally argued, for example, that English religious tradition foreswore the enslavement of fellow Christians. But what would happen if a slave could be saved? In keeping with the spirit of the First Great Awakening that increasingly insisted that it was the duty of Christians to bring the unsaved to God, Christianizing slaves came to be seen as a potentially self-destructive religious obligation. What followed over the first decades of the century were debates about 1) whether a black even could be saved, 2) whether a black would benefit from being saved 3) whether it was wise, notwithstanding religious duty, to introduce the slave to religious concepts that endorsed equality before God of all human sinners, slave or no, and, ultimately, 4) whether enslaving fellow Christians was really that big a deal after all.
In similar fashion, Jordan traces the trajectory of tortured thought throughout the course of the 18th and early 19th century. At the time of the American Revolution, slavery represented a troubling paradox for a people who had come to identify with the inspiring natural rights doctrine of the Enlightenment and debate reluctantly raged around notions of liberty and equality in a country that kept fully 20% of its inhabitants in bondage. Yet for all of the debate, the early Americans could never get out of the way of their own white supremacist assumptions. Under the force of racial doctrine, for example, the clear and cogent Linnaean taxonomy devolved into the widely accepted psudo-scientific “Chain of Being “that posited intermediate stages of creatures in the roster of God’s creation in which Africans stood below the white man and above the ape, suggesting notions that blacks, while being man-like, were not men in the sense of being natural rights beneficiaries.
By the end of the 18th century, one senses that whites of the era were haunted by slavery. Unable to satisfactorily reconcile its rightness in terms of principle (which, for devotees of the Enlightenment, was a big fail) and yet afraid to end it for economic, social and safety reasons, whites of the Revolutionary era came to see slavery as a necessary evil which they pathetically hoped, over time, would simply go away. Of course, the later history which Jordan does not address in his work, witnessed whites of the south reconciling their evident Revolutionary-era cognitive dissonance by recasting slavery from a “necessary evil” to a “positive good”, thus setting the nation on the course for civil war.
Jordan’s work results in a thorough and cogent catalog of white thought and experience with respect to “blackness” throughout the first two centuries of European settlement of North America. As such, it both tells a compelling story and represents a tremendous resource for anyone interested in understanding America’s racial history.