Synopsis of Bibliographic Review

            When I initially began to approach the topic of the Haitian Revolution, I had thought to examine it through the lens of the various nations that had an interest in the event. It quickly became apparent to me that the scholarship on this subject does not run in this manner. Most of the secondary sources that I have read approach the Haitian Revolution as a type of event (e.g. racial, economic, or political) and then present individual perspectives that reinforce the favored typology. I found it interesting that even primary source compilations can be found to favor this typological approach through careful selection of the materials presented (this is made possible by the enormous volume of official and personal correspondence that surrounds this event). I have therefore chosen my subjects for this synopsis accordingly. The earliest piece, The Black Jacobins by C.L.R. James, portrays the Haitian Revolution as being a social event that was inextricably linked to the French Revolution. The second piece, The Avengers of the New World by Laurent Dubois, sees the Haitian Revolution as being primarily a racial conflict that occurred as a reaction to the brutality and oppression that occurred in the colony. The third piece, You Are All Free by Jeremy Popkin, views the Haitian Revolution as a political event that was deeply intertwined with the geopolitical realpolotik of the times. Taken together, these works do not stand in conflict with one another but, rather, constitute the pieces of a puzzle that can work together  to form a complete picture.

            The Black Jacobins, by C.L.R. James was published in 1963.  As its title would suggest, this book presents the Haitian Revolution as a type of extension of the French Revolution. Indeed, in his introduction, James even draws a link between the revolutionary events in France and Haiti to the post colonial emancipation of Africa that was under way as the book was being published. There is even an appendix in my edition entitled From Toussaint L’Overture to Fidel Castro which, although rather dated at this point, is a wonderful representation of James’ linkages of revolutionary events. According to James, in San Domingue “The slaves worked the land and, like revolutionary peasants everywhere, they aimed at the extermination of their oppressors.” Although the idea of the slave as “revolutionary peasant” may be a somewhat incomplete concept in terms of the Haitian Revolution, James’ work still serves to create a valid perspective from which to view this event.

            Avengers of the New World, by Laurent Dubois, is a much more recent work, having been published in 2004. Dubois sees the Haitian Revolution as primarily a slave uprising that occurred as a result of the excessive cruelty of the white planter class. By choosing to approach the Haitian Revolution through the lens of slavery, Dubois weds himself to the idea that this was primarily a racial conflict. Indeed, he implies as much when states that “The insurgents of 1791 were enormously diverse – women and men, African-born and Creole, overseer and fieldworker, slaves on mountain plantations and sugar plantations – and carried with them many different motivations, hopes, and histories. Using violence against a violent system, they shattered the economy of one of the richest regions of the world.” Although Dubois’ vivid portrayal of racial conflict reshaping an entire society can thoroughly address the origins of the Haitian Revolution, we must turn to another lens entirely to address the emergence of a new nation that would occur 13 years after the initial slave revolt took place.

            You Are All Free, by Jeremy Popkin, is the most current of the three works, as it was published in 2010. Interestingly, Popkin departs from the Dubois model early on by dating the Haitian Revolution, not from the initial slave uprising, but from a political event – the decision by France to rescind the freedom that had been granted the colony’s slaves the previous year. Popkin envisions the Haitian Revolution as an event that influenced and was influenced by the international political machinations of the time. His main assertion is that the birth of Haiti would have been impossible, without the simmering tensions between the United States, Great Britian, and France. He even gives the United States credit for saving the nascent revolution during a critical point. By stating that “by continuing to trade with the French-held parts of Saint Domingue even after the destruction of Cap Francais and the emancipation of the slaves, [the] Americans helped Sonthonax and Polverel hold out long enough for Toussaint L’Overture to make up his mind to join them”, Popkin is drawing attention to the fact that this revolution could not have succeeded but for assistance from other nations, and that such assistance was a result of a confluence of political events taking place outside of the island.

            I feel that it is best to view these works as complementary to one another. Any event as complex and as lengthy as the Haitian Revolution cannot be thoroughly assessed through a single lens or a single type of experience. Although there are, doubtless, many more facets of the Haitian Revolution that these authors do not delve into, I feel that these three perspectives form a general picture of the main currents of scholarship in the contemporary dialogue surrounding the history of the Haitian Revolution.

Dubois, L. (2004). Avengers of the new world. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.

 

James, C.L.R. (1963). The black jacobins. New York: Random House.

Popkin, J. (2010). You are all free. New York: Cambridge University Press.

Short Essay 5

     Although Olaudah Equiano begins his narrative by explicitly stating that he is “an African” (p. 4), as one reads his story it becomes clear that, at least at the time of his authorship,  he is actually far more comfortable viewing himself as European. This backdrop is critical to unearthing Equiano’s understanding of the concept of freedom. Equiano’s narrative is essentially a classic tale of an individual’s journey of self-discovery and then self-realization. Equiano clearly believes that he had been destined or, rather, predestined for a meaningful life. His account is full of foreshadowing moments such as his naming or the existence of favorable animal omens (p.19). At age ten, Equiano was enslaved and soon thereafter came into contact with Europeans for the first time. This, it might be said, was the first step of his enlightenment. In a crucial passage from his text, Equiano states that “I not only felt at ease among these new countrymen, but relished their society and manners. I no longer looked upon them as spirits, but as men superior to us; I therefore had the stronger desire to resemble them, to imbibe their spirit and imitate their manners. I therefore embraced every occasion for improvement; and every new thing that I observed, I treasured up in my memory” (p. 62). The reader is struck by the lack of egalitarian sentiment in these words. This is the writing of self-made man, who believes that the true quality of a man is not inherent at birth, but must be obtained through persevering hardships, working diligently, and constantly seeking improvement. Indeed, this is the type of man who would see freedom not merely as the absence of slavery, but as the ability to exert one’s will on the world around him. Thus, for Olaudah Equiano, the concept of freedom seems to have extended far beyond the legal act of manumission and was inextricably linked to his concept of social equality in European society.

            This concept may have been rooted in Equiano’s skillful navigation of interpersonal relationships with the Europeans with whom he had contact. He was consistently able to win favor and respect by displaying his work ethic, mental acuity, and personal charm. He was able to leverage this social favor into a constant state of self betterment. It is through his interpersonal skills that he learned to read and write, was baptized into the church, and learned to be a sound business manager. He was also willing to appear subordinate when it suited the situation, a crucial skill for a man in his position. Tellingly, Equiano displayed this skill after his manumission by continuing to cultivate positive relationships with his former masters (p. 133). This may be an indication that he understood, at some level, that having legal freedom was not a substitute for having social capital. Therefore, throughout his life Olaudah Equiano continued to create an identity for himself that allowed him to be upwardly mobile in English society. He became educated, active in the Church, amassed wealth, married an Englishwomen, and then joined the abolitionist cause. In short, Olaudah Equiano became a man who could, to increasing degrees, exert his will on the world around him. This is not simply the story of a slave made good but, rather, this is the story of a slave who became an Englishman.

            What is interesting about Olaudah Equiano’s view of freedom is that it does not question the superiority of Europeans. Equiano, in the aforementioned passage, actually states as much. Although he presents Africa as a sort of idyllic Eden, he clearly sees Europe as superior, even to the point of asking the Church to send him back to convert the unenlightened Africans (p. 236). What makes Equiano’s viewpoint problematic is that the social equality that he sought could not be taken from the English but, rather, it must be conferred by them, which raises the question of how valid is a social equality that exists at the whim of another. Therefore, he found himself recognizing the superior position of the Europeans while concurrently attempting to obtain the same sort of superiority for himself. For example, upon his manumission, Equiano expresses his desire to present himself to his old master who had ill treated him (p. 137). Although such a desire was couched in affectionate terms, one cannot help but sense that there is an expectation of sly gratification on Equiano’s part. It seems that he may have had a need to prove that he was something more than a slave but, in order to prove this to himself, he first needed to prove it to his former English master. Thus, for Equiano, even his manumission reinforced the notion of English superiority.

            While Equiano sought freedom within the system, slaves in the New World were seeking freedom from the system. As is historically clear from the numerous slave uprisings in the North American Colonies, the Caribbean, and Iberian South America, the New World was the land of slave revolts, not slave assimilation. This may be due to the fact that the majority of the ugliness and brutality of chattel slavery was taking place in the New World, which would naturally result in a slave population that tried to abolish the existing order, as opposed to rising within it. It is interesting to note that the New World was also a place the Olaudah Equiano shunned whenever possible, preferring life on a ship or life in Europe, to life in the colonies. What would otherwise be fertile ground for a man looking to remake himself became a place that he sought to escape and leave behind. The constant fear of re-enslavement, the endemic racism, and the lack of an opportunity for social mobility all made the New World an undesirable place for Equiano. These are the same factors that produced a revolutionary mindset in the slaves that existed wholly within this sphere. The vast majority of slaves living the Black Atlantic sphere could in no way hope for the kind of freedom, social mobility, and equality that Olaudah Equiano strove for and, to a large degree, attained. For these slaves, the road to freedom lay in revolution not self-realization.

Short Essay Four

To our modern sensibilities, there seems to be little distinction between a moral opposition to the practice of slavery and a pragmatic opposition to the practice of slavery. Yet, this is a relatively recent development and one that modern civilizations can afford only now that slavery is no longer a necessary component to a nation’s economic well being. However, as one examines the Colonial period it is necessary to bear in mind that when the Atlantic colonies were the economic engines of the European powers, the wholesale abolition of slavery in the Atlantic sphere would have resulted in the economic collapse of nations whose generation of wealth was predicated upon the widespread use of slave labor. This economic necessity allowed for a wide spectrum of views regarding the place of slavery in the Atlantic and European worlds, and a modern historian would do well to avoid anachronistic comparisons between our common values and the common values of the Colonial period. Yet, this is not to suggest that there was an absence of social tension regarding the place of slavery in the nations of Europe, and one of the most interesting settings to study this social tension is colonial France.

According to Peabody (22), the national identity of France was so deeply intertwined with the notions of liberty and freedom that, to the French people, the concepts of being French and being free were virtually synonymous. Curiously enough, this national myth did not result in a system that was free of slavery. This may have been due to the fact that the widespread acceptance of the concept of France as the heartland of freedom did not correspond to the widespread acceptance of the concept that all races of men were fundamentally equal (Peabody 66). Thus, without irony, the French system attempted to draw a “spatial and legal distinction” between the French colonies, where slavery was an economic necessity, and the nation of France, which should remain free and unblemished by slavery (Peabody 14). It is within this context that French citizens, colonists, freedmen, and slaves operated and interacted both with one another and with the system as a whole. Although these interactions show a large number of French citizens who were willing to aid slaves found on French soil, these interactions also show that many French citizens did not do so out of humanitarian reasons or a fundamental belief in racial equality. The case of Catherine Morgan, when viewed as a microcosm, is a very telling example of the differing motivations that came into play during social conflicts regarding the existence of slavery on French soil.

According to Peabody (43) Catherine Morgan was a slave who had traveled from Saint Domingue to France with her master. After being sexually exploited and physically assaulted, she sought the assistance of a free woman of color who was a widow. Catherine was then placed under the protection of a convent and a lawyer was consulted. The lawyer, Terrien, did attempt to help, but there seems to be a cloud hanging over his exact motivations, and he did collect a considerable profit from the case. Catherine’s master, a planter named Morgan, did attempt to get her back, but to no avail. Although the French courts recognized that Catherine was a slave who was brought illegally to the mainland of France and that her master had mistreated her, the French courts did not grant Catherine her freedom. Instead, Catherine and her children were to be shipped back to the colony and sold to any, save Morgan, for the profit of the state (Peabody 47).

The varying motives of this story reflect the social tensions in France at the time. Catherine, a slave who presumably knew that she could be considered free upon setting foot on French soil, waited almost a year before attempting to gain her freedom. This strongly suggests a situational equality between the circumstances of a domestic slave and those free French citizens at the lowest rung of the social ladder. Indeed there seems to have been a debate within French society at the time over whether certain labor arraignments actually constituted a form of slavery (Peabody 28). Catherine only seems to have fled slavery after severe mistreatment, which could be interpreted as a reluctant acceptance of her role as a slave in the French system.

The motives of Catherine’s master, Morgan, appear to be straightforward and are only worth mentioning because of his own status in French society. Morgan, to whom the slave Catherine was a piece of valuable property as well as a source of carnal indulgence, was from the colonial planter class, and doubtless had no moral qualms about the practice of slavery. The colonial planter class did not view slavery as an abstract institution, whose merits should be debated in the salons of Paris. Rather, these individuals understood that slaves produced wealth, but had to be kept under control by violent and degrading methods. Additionally, Morgan’s actions after Catherine’s escape, such as pursuing a murderous vendetta with Terrien and spurning the proceedings of the French courts, make it clear that he was an outsider in terms of French society (Peabody 44). This is, perhaps, also indicative of the aforementioned “spatial and legal distinction” between France and her colonies.

In contrast to Morgan, the lawyer Terrien seems to have been the consummate insider in terms of French society. He seems to have been successful, educated, respected, and well connected as evidenced by the personal nature of the communication that occurred between him and the authorities investigating the case (Peabody 42). Although Terrien was willing to help Catherine, there seems to have been a financial incentive to do so, and one cannot help but question the abolitionist credentials of a man whose view of helping an escaped slave involves purchasing her himself, a dubious method of manumission that ultimately serves to reinforce the legitimacy of chattel slavery (Peabody 43). That the women involved with this case were willing to acquiesce to this sale also serves to illuminate their motives as well.

The women who helped shelter Catherine, two freed women of color and the nuns at the convent, were willing to allow Catherine to be sold as an initial route to her freedom. That this plan was attempted before they appealed to the French authorities is quite bizarre when considered from the perspective of gaining freedom from slavery. However, when one considers this course of action in terms of domestic violence it becomes completely rational. A slave does not gain freedom by being sold to another master (despite any promises of goodwill and manumission), but a battered woman can gain protection by being sheltered by an influential and powerful man. Thus, it could be argued that for the freed women of color and the nuns at the convent, this was not so much about slavery as it was about sheltering a fellow woman from abuse and sexual exploitation. This view is further reinforced by their lack of intervention when Catherine and her children are to be shipped back to the colony.

Finally, this case brings to light the motives of the state. In the proceedings regarding Catherine Morgan, the legitimacy of slavery is never questioned. Only the status of Catherine as slave or free is ever questioned, and when she is determined to still be a slave under the law, she must be immediately removed from French soil (Peabody 47). Thus we see the strange dichotomy that existed in France during this period. It seems that because France was the homeland of liberty, slavery could not ever exist on French soil. However, because France needed the economic spoils of slavery, it had to be permitted in the French colonies. Perhaps, this serves to explain the extreme need of French society to differentiate itself from colonial society as well.

When one questions the motives of the French people who helped slaves during this period, it is impossible to take into account every conceivable rationale for acting. Despite this fact, some general trends can be observed. First, the notion of racial equality as we envision it today was not widespread. Secondly, the legitimacy of slavery as an institution was not seriously questioned. Finally, there was a pervading sense of French Exceptionalism at the heart of most of the actions of the state. This resulted in a system that exploited slave labor in the colonies and denied the existence of slavery at home. Thus, it might be said that to the citizens of the metrople, slavery was not evil, it just was not French.

Short Essay 3

When one examines the contrast between the African-Latino identity of the Caribbean and South American Atlantic world and the African-American identity of the Colonial and North American Atlantic world, any point of reference must address the fundamental differences in the political systems that freedmen and slaves lived under in these two related, but distinct, spheres. The peoples of color living in the Caribbean and South American sphere were residents of colonies that were part of a wider imperial system governed by various competing monarchies. The peoples of color living in the Colonial and North American Sphere were residents of a republican system of government that was inherently hostile to the idea of the sort of paternalism so evident in monarchies. Simply put, patriotism to faraway European powers meant obedience and subservience, whereas patriotism to the fledgling United States meant direct engagement in civic life. It is these two differing templates that must form the starting point for understanding the different identities of the African-Latinos and the African Americans in the Atlantic World.

Bolster, speaking of the American Revolution, notes that “before the war, nearly every person of color throughout the British North American colonies was a slave; by the war’s end, almost 60,000 black Americans had their freedom” (153). Just as white colonists were recreating their identities as citizens of the republic, so too were many former slaves recreating their identities as freed men of color. Bolster asserts that this resulted in many former slaves expressing “a radical African-American patriotism, demanding black inclusion (not assimilation) in the United States” (5). What is both interesting and tragic about this adoption of a unique and novel American identity on the part of the people of color, is that because the new nation lacked the kind of entrenched social hierarchy and established and legitimate pathways for social advancement that the Caribbean and South American colonies possessed, black people in America would find themselves effectively shut out of the wider society of the United States in a way that their colonial brethren farther south did not experience. Thus, although African-Americans lived in a “freer” society, it was the African-Latinos who had greater social opportunity.

An illustration of this expanded social opportunity enjoyed by African-Latinos can be seen in the access to recourse through the Catholic Church as well as political recourse through legal petitions to the Crown found in the Iberian colonies in the Atlantic world. By having access of this kind, African-Latinos were able to legitimize many of their claims and institutions. For example, a will and related testimony dating from 1623 expresses that one Juan Roque wished to bequeath his home to the Catholic Zape Confraternity to which he belonged (McKnight and Garofalo , 95). When controversy arose regarding this will, the Zape Confraternity turned to the Spanish Authorities in Mexico City to solve the dispute. What makes this situation remarkable was that not all of the members of the Zape Confraternity were free men, some of them were slaves (McKnight and Garofalo, 99). Under this model, persons of color, both free and slave were allowed access to the Church, could form organizations, had recourse through the legal system, and could even testify in court on the behalf of another. It is hardly surprising then, that African-Latinos retained a distinctly European element to their collective identity, even as their northern counterparts, who enjoyed none of these social advantages, were attempting to create a new identity in a society that was, ironically enough, supposed to be freer and more egalitarian than the old monarchies.

Unfortunately, the free society of the United States would soon relegate the African-Americans to the lowest levels of that society and, without recourse to the Church or Crown, the African-Americans would discover that very little could be done to alleviate this disenfranchisement. It seems that whenever the African-American community found and economic niche to exploit, the wider society would act to eliminate such an opportunity. Bolster (172) notes that “in 1821, the U.S. attorney general, William Wirt, ruled that ‘free persons of color in Virginia are not citizens of the United States, within the intent and meaning of the acts regulating foreign and coasting trade, so as to be qualified to command vessels.’” Thus with one legal decision, many of the most prosperous black seamen were summarily denied their livelihoods. This is the sort of exclusion that served to inform the creation of a uniquely African-American identity, one that expressed great disappointment with the American experiment, while still striving to set the system right.

The contrasts between the African-Latino identity and the African-American identity are, to the author, clear. While the African-Latinos were relatively enfranchised in an established social system that, although it had clear boundaries, did contain stable paths for economic and social advancement, the African-Americans were part of a social system that was constantly in flux and worked to deny them any social and economic opportunities that they might find. Thus, it might be said that the African-Latino remained an insider while the African-American became an outsider.

Short Essay Two

As one would expect of a scholar of his position, the work of Professor Thornton is well researched, strongly supported by the available evidence, and thoroughly takes into account the differing viewpoints of his fellow scholars. Furthermore, since Thornton is familiar with the documents contained in the McKnight and Garofalo compilation, it is not surprising that there is a close alignment with the McKnight and Garofalo documents and Thornton’s own work.

One of Thornton’s main assertions is that there was a vibrant and well developed set of cultures in Africa that predated European contact (Thornton 20). Thornton also resists seeing Africa as a land that was wantonly exploited by European powers. Indeed, Thornton states as much when he says that “Europeans did not pillage Africa, either as raiders or indirectly as traders from a more advanced economy” (53). Both of these concepts stem from Thornton’s perception that Africa was something of a layered market for the Europeans, with multiple levels of African middlemen that did not allow for as favorable balance of trade as the Europeans might have wished for (Thornton 71).

It is this perception of Europeans acting mainly at the periphery of an African system that I find to be problematic when examining some of the McKnight and Garofalo documents. To be sure, Thornton’s arguments regarding the African role in the creation and maintenance of the slave trade are well supported, but I do find his insistence on the negligibility of European influence to be in contrast with some of the McKnight and Garofalo documents-specifically the records of the treason inquiry of Dom Pedro and the letters of Queen Njinga. These documents do not portray an impenetrable African economy, political sphere, or culture, but rather a set of peoples in flux, who were already living in a hybrid culture that was as much a blend of European and African cultures as anything that would emerge later in the New World.

Thornton’s view of the relationship between European and African powers is clearly illustrated by his reference to the Portuguese obtaining slaves through their status as “clients of the Kongo kings” (97). This presumed status of the Portuguese seems to be directly challenged by the documents from the treason trial of Dom Pedro. Several things are immediately apparent from these documents, the first being the adoption of Iberian nomenclature. The Kongo Kings refer to themselves (this was an internal Kongolese document) using Spanish names and titles in addition to their Kongolese names and titles (Mcknight and Garofalo 9). Additionally, the form of the legal proceeding is an inquest, which is European in nature, and the documents end with a reference to an ongoing request for a Papal Bull (Mcknight and Garofalo 29). None of these things would seem to indicate that the status of the Portuguese in Kongo was one of a “client”. On the contrary, these things seem to suggest that there was a strong European influence in the Kongo and that the Portuguese, in particular, exercised a great deal of influence over the politics, religion, and culture of the region. It simply does not seem reasonable that there was not an economic component to the Portuguese influence as well.

While Thornton makes careful note of the fact that the European presence in Africa was not responsible for the slave trade and even contends that the Atlantic slave trade may have been an outgrowth of the existing African model (Thornton74), he does not give much intellectual room to the notion that European interaction with Africa fundamentally altered Africa’s political balance of power, economic landscape, and cultural norms. However, the letters from Queen Njinga clearly indicate that the Portuguese military presence is exacerbating conflicts that might otherwise be settled “peacefully and without force” ( McKnight and Garofalo 43). This begs the question of whether or not there were African cultural customs in place to help avoid warfare between states and if there were, did the European presence alter these customs? Additionally, Queen Njinga spoke as though there was a significant impact on trade due to European machinations (McKnight and Garofalo 47). She adopts the verbiage of a supplicant and even goes so far as to petition for a betterment of trading conditions (McKnight and Garofalo 47). Although she was an African Queen and an enemy of the Portuguese for most of her life, she is clearly addressing individuals who she perceives to have power, and she is addressing them on their terms, not hers. This is difficult to reconcile with Thornton’s view of the Africans as being able to keep the Europeans at a safe economic and political distance.

Although, on the whole I find Thornton’s work extremely credible, I think that there are some nuances visible in the McKnight and Garofalo documents that Thornton does little to address. Given the high level of European cultural influence visible in the documents, Thornton seems to devote very little energy to the ways that the European presence in Africa was altering both African cultural norms and the African political landscape. Professor Thornton makes a compelling case that Africans were not simply passive victims of European imperialism, but I would like to see him address the emergence of the Afro-European cultural and economic model in an equally compelling manner.

Short Essay One

Short Essay One

            When considering Thornton’s ideas about African culture and how it helped to shape the Atlantic world, it is important to keep in mind that Thornton’s most salient assertion is that African society was highly developed (Thornton, 7). This stands in contrast to traditional notions of Africa as an undeveloped and easily exploited source of raw materials ripe for European commercial plundering. Although Thornton is not the originator of this viewpoint, he does make a compelling case that although Africa had thriving trade economies, a manufacturing base, complex social and political structures, and a rich and varied cultural landscape, all of these things existed in something of a closed sphere that, for the most part, did not extend beyond the continent (Thornton, 21) due to difficulties in oceanic navigation.

            Within this closed (but rather large) economic, political, and cultural sphere there seems to have been a great deal of diversity. The sheer number of cultures and traditions that existed within the African sphere shatters the notion of a monolithic African culture. As one view the maps from the period (Thornton, x-xiv) it becomes clear that there were several hundred states, sub-states, and cultural groups operating along the West African and Central African coasts. The political maneuvering among these entities surely was on par with that of the famous “Great Game” of geopolitics several centuries later.

            Thornton argues that at the outset of European-African trade, the influence of the Europeans was negligible (Thornton, 47). It is only with the advent of two related events that European trade began to have an impact on Africa. With the development of oceanic routes that were bidirectionaly navigable between both Europe and Africa and Europe and America, as well as the subsequent colonization of the New World there came a shift in the nature of European interaction with Africa. This directly led to a trade circuit that resulted in the mass exportation of African slaves to the plantations of the New World.

            The practice of slavery had always been a part of African culture, and slaves were the main repository of wealth for many Africans ( Thornton, 90). In Thornton’s view, this existing slave economy, which can be considered a kind of existing economic infrastructure, was what made slavery lucrative for European traders. Indeed, Thornton actually states that “the Atlantic slave trade was the outgrowth of this internal [African] slavery” (74). The fundamental difference in the experience of New World slaves and their African counterparts seems to be the large scale exposure to differing cultures. Whereas, in their home countries an African slave might be immersed in a culture that he or she is only a small part of, when that same slave is exported to the New World then he or she suddenly becomes the sole repository of the home culture. When many such individuals are placed in close contact with one another, in a setting that is fundamentally alien and oppressive, then cultural hybridization is inevitable. Because of this, Thornton has developed a view that “slaves were not militant cultural nationalists who sought to preserve everything African but rather showed great flexibility in adapting and changing their culture” (206).

            This concept can be most clearly illustrated in the realm of slave language. The average plantation in the New World would house a diverse mix of slaves from many different regions. Obviously, most of them would not have shared the same language. Thus, the development of a common language would have been a necessity. Here, Thornton argues that the development of “Pidgins” or “Pidgin Languages” would have been widespread (Thornton, 213). He goes further to assert that , over time, “a community develops that uses this language as a native speech, [and] then it evolves into a creole, which does have full capacity [of linguistic expression]” (213).

This hybridization of language can be seen as a template for the larger process of cultural hybridization. By blending many different cultural traditions in the Altantic world, the slave trade effectively mixed diverse African cultures as well as European influences to create an amalgam that was simultaneously distinct and “more homogonous than the cultures that compose it” (Thornton 206). It is this new culture that forms the basis of Afro-American and Carribean cultures that we have today.