Against Wind and Tide. Ousmane K. Power-Greene
culture whom I have come to know over the course of this study have helped me place my work within the broader context of African American history. Special thanks go to Hilary Moss and Amani Whitfield, both of whom read or commented on this work early on. In addition, Winston James provided me with crucial insights about the limitations and possibilities of this project in my effort to make this a worthwhile contribution to the history of the pan-African protest tradition; for his advice and suggestions I am truly in debt. Similarly, I am thankful for the support of scholars Colin Palmer, Fred Opie, Jeffrey O.G. Ogbar, and Amy Jordan, who engaged me in lively discussions about African American history in ways that have shaped this book.
My editor at NYU Press, Clara Platter, had the burden of picking up this project while only having been at the Press for a short time. I am indeed thankful for her patience and her willingness to shepherd the book to completion. Likewise, I’d like to thank her excellent assistant Constance Grady, who has provided me with courteous and gentle reminders about deadlines, documents, and other details needed for the publication of this book. The two blind reviewers at NYU Press have offered the exact sort of critique that a first-time author needs when trying to complete a book with ambitious, far-reaching implications. Although I am certain there are portions of the book that they may find tenuous, I do hope that this study reflects my earnest attempt to make a useful contribution to the study of nineteenth-century African American history. For their advice and support, I am truly appreciative.
I am blessed with a large and incredible family and group of friends who support my work with passion and enthusiasm. My in-laws, Phil and Diana Power, have championed my accomplishments with much enthusiasm, while being there to support me whenever I’ve needed it. My father and mother, Bill and Gwen Greene, to whom this book is dedicated, did all in their power to allow me to follow my passion for studying African American history and culture. My father offered unwavering support for the project, reading portions of the manuscript from the vantage point of those outside the academy who may not be familiar with the topic. For his eagerness to dive into a subject that he had not previously been familiar with, I am much appreciative. My mother drove from New York to Massachusetts whenever we needed her in order to support my quest for a little bit of quiet time to work on the manuscript. Words cannot fully express how thankful I am for having such a wonderful person in my life. In the final year of the completion of this book, I was fortunate enough to have my brother Maurice Greene nearby to help me work through my arguments and remind me of the importance of my book for artists and intellectuals interested in understanding African American history. Much love goes out to him for those numerous mornings siting at my kitchen table discussing history and politics. I am also very thankful for the support of my sister-in-law Jodi Power who remained always eager to hear about the progress of this work. All of my friends, especially Andy, Hank, Jim, Kevin, Matt, Mike, Rocco, and Stephanie have provided me with very much support throughout the completion of this book. A big thank-you goes out to my Fresh Air Fund coworkers, who have helped me find time to work on this book each of the past eight summers. My sincere gratitude goes out to Kshinte, Akara, Terna, Raphael, Megan, Orien, Dion, Allia, Jonathan, Karolina, Shay, Brandyn, and Max for encouraging and supporting me as I worked through the ideas in the book.
Through the course of the research and writing of this book, my children Kyla, Coletrane, and Imanni have helped me remain grounded by reminding me of the importance of being more than a scholar and professor. Kyla was there from my entrance to graduate school, Coletrane was born when I first started this project, and Imanni arrived just as I began shaping the manuscript into a book. I am very thankful for having such wonderful children in my life. This short space will not allow me to express my thanks adequately to Melissa for doing all those things needed to balance my work with my family duties. To her, I am immensely grateful. This book would not have been possible without her.
Preface
On December 21, 1816, Rev. Robert Finley of Baskingridge, New Jersey, gathered together some of the nation’s most respected attorneys, businessmen, and politicians at the Davis Hotel in Washington, D.C., to discuss creating an organization dedicated to establishing a colony for African Americans in West Africa. Henry Clay, Speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives, called the meeting to order and then went on to discuss the various ways colonization could benefit America. Like Finley, Clay believed that providing free blacks passage to their “fatherland” was a “just” way to compensate them for being “torn from their kin” in Africa. While Clay shared Finley’s emphasis on the importance of Christian charity in this repatriation scheme, he stated bluntly that the organization could not promote emancipation or destroy slavery if it intended to gain broad support. Others at the meeting, such as John Randolph of Roanoke, Virginia, pointed out that many slaveowners would “delight” in this project, since the free black population of Virginia constituted a “nuisance” that destabilized slavery.1
One week later, these men met in the House of Representatives chambers to write the constitution of the American Society for Colonizing the Free People of Colour of the United States, better known as the American Colonization Society (ACS), with the express intent of “ridding us of the free people of color, and preparing the way for getting rid of slaves and of slavery.” Nevertheless, members of the organization viewed their mission as one that would benefit free blacks living in “a state of hopeless inferiority, and consequent degradation.” Since, as they explained, free blacks would never be able to rise from this lowly state of being in the United States, their status had actually caused some of them to “lose the most powerful incitements to industry, frugality, good conduct, and honorable exertion.” Over time, they argued, this had caused many to sink “into a state of sloth, wretchedness, and profligacy.” It was their belief that only in a “colony composed of themselves” could free blacks “enjoy real equality” be able to “become proprietors of land” and “master mechanics,” and learn other dignified professions. Without whites “to remind them of and to perpetuate their original inferiority,” African Americans would enjoy “true freedom” and a sense of pride.2
This book examines African Americans’ struggle against the American Colonization Society and the colony it helped settle, Liberia. Established in 1822, Liberia would become an independent republic in 1847. Although Liberia did inspire nearly 13,000 African Americans to leave the United States to settle there between the founding of the colony and the Civil War, this represented less than 3 percent of the total free black population in the United States during that time. By and large, African Americans did not seek to leave the United States for Liberia, despite the persistent efforts of the American Colonization Society and the handful of notable black Americans who championed colonization in Liberia as a step towards creating a black American homeland.
Interestingly, in this same period African Americans were inspired by the possibility of leaving the United States for Haiti. In fact, over 8,000 black Americans emigrated to settle in Haiti during the 1820s alone. Even though this number is no more impressive than the number of blacks who left for Liberia, free African American spokespersons and leaders seemed much more eager to promote Haitian emigration than colonization in Liberia. Such interest in Haiti actually worked to undermine the American Colonization Society because both Haitian emigration advocates and ACS colonizationists competed for funds and potential recruits in free black communities throughout the nation. While the members of the ACS worked tirelessly to convince black Americans that Liberia remained a better option than Haiti, the “first black republic,” black Americans and particularly their leaders championed Haiti while denouncing Liberia. This books seeks to show the reason for that, as well as to explain why the vast majority of free blacks rejected Liberia and the ACS’s effort to promote colonization there between the establishment of the ACS in 1816 and the Civil War more than four decades later.
One caveat must be noted at the outset, and it surrounds the terms colonization and emigration. Scholars have used these two terms rather loosely and at times interchangebly since the publication of P.J. Staudenraus’s work on the American Colonization Society in the early 1960s. However, free African American activists, abolitionists, and community leaders in the nineteenth century rarely did so. This is because those who spoke with reverence of Haiti sometimes denounced Liberia, and they sought to dissociate their interest with emigrating to Haiti, and even Canada, from the American Colonization Society’s Liberia project. Thus, in this