Evan,
If you go to Truthdig.org, and either search for his name, or search for
columnists, you'll probably find the other 20 pieces. I didn't actually
look at them when they appeared in the daily newsletter, but I became
curious to see what he wrote about the first world war. Next time another
one appears, I'll also go to the link for the second one. Unfortunately, if
you read real of the history of our country rather than the history books
written for popular consumption and profit, you'll probably find less to
inspire you than you'd like. For example, I heard, the other day, that the
original Thanksgivin celebration was held by the Pilgrims to celebrate their
massacre of a band of Indians. I heard It on some podcast or other with no
supporting details and I haven't followed up on it. But it wouldn't
surprise me.
Miriam
-----Original Message-----
From: blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
<blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx> On Behalf Of Evan Reese
Sent: Sunday, November 25, 2018 3:21 PM
To: blind-democracy@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [blind-democracy] Re: American History for Truthdiggers: Original
Sin
It says here in part:
"The author of the series, Danny Sjursen, an active-duty major in the U.S.
Army, served military tours in Iraq and Afghanistan and taught the nation's
checkered, often inspiring past when he was an assistant professor of
history at West Point."
I've read the two installments you've posted here today. I've seen plenty of
the checkered, not much of the inspiring. I wonder if he left those parts at
West Point. If you post other installments, I'll keep looking for it.
That's not to say these aren't good essays. They are. He is certainly
correct that a mark of intellectual maturity is being able to confront
uncomfortable truths. The problem is that those who need to confront them
most aren't likely to do so.
Thanks for posting them.
Evan
-----Original Message-----
From: Miriam Vieni
Sent: Sunday, November 25, 2018 2:25 PM
To: blind-democracy@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [blind-democracy] American History for Truthdiggers: Original Sin
American History for Truthdiggers: Original Sin
The swampy environs of Jamestown, Virginia, claim the life of another
17th-century English settler in this painting by National Park Service
artist Sydney King. (National Park Service / Public Domain)
Truthdig editor's note: The past is prologue. The stories we tell about
ourselves and our forebears inform the sort of country we think we are and
help determine public policy. As our current president promises to "Make
America great again," this moment is an appropriate time to reconsider our
past, look back at various eras of United States history and re-evaluate
America's origins. When, exactly, were we "great"?
The "American History for Truthdiggers" series, which begins with the
installment below, is a pull-no-punches appraisal of our shared, if flawed,
past. The author of the series, Danny Sjursen, an active-duty major in the
U.S. Army, served military tours in Iraq and Afghanistan and taught the
nation's checkered, often inspiring past when he was an assistant professor
of history at West Point. His wartime experiences, his scholarship, his
skill as a writer and his patriotism illuminate these Truthdig posts.
American Slavery, American Freedom (Colonial Virginia 1607-1676)
Origins matter. Every nation-state has an origin myth, a comforting tale of
trials, tribulations and triumphs that form the foundation of "imagined
communities." The United States of America-a self-proclaimed "indispensable
nation"-is as prone to exaggerated origin myths as any society in human
history. Most of us are familiar with the popular American origin story: Our
forefathers, a collection of hardy, pious pioneers, escaped religious
persecution in England and founded a "new world"-a shining beacon in a
virgin land. Of course, that story, however flawed, refers to the Pilgrims,
and Massachusetts, circa 1620. But that's not the true starting point for
English-speaking society in North America.
The first permanent colony was in Virginia, at Jamestown, beginning in 1607.
Why, then, do our young students dress in black buckle-top hats and
re-create Thanksgiving each year? Where is the commemoration of Jamestown
and our earliest American forebears? The omission itself tells a story, that
of a chosen, comforting narrative (the legend of the Pilgrims), and the
whitewashing of a murkier past along the James River.
The truth is, the United States descends from both origins-Massachusetts and
Virginia-and carries the legacy of each into the 21st century. So why do we
focus on the Pilgrims and sideline Virginia? A fresh look may help explain.
The Age of 'Discovery'
When it comes to history-like any story-the starting point is itself
informative. I taught freshman history at West Point, a far more progressive
and thoughtful school than many readers probably imagine. Nonetheless, with
cadets required to take only one semester of U.S. history, we had just 40
lessons to illuminate the American past. So where to start? The official
answer-as in so many standard history courses-was Jamestown, Virginia, 1607.
That, of course, is a fascinating, perhaps absurd, choice. Such a starting
point omits several thousand years of Native American history, of varied,
complex civilizations from modern Canada to Chile. Time being short and all,
1607 remains a common pedagogical starting point. As a result, from the
beginning, our understanding of U.S. history is Eurocentric and narrow
(covering only the last 400 or so years). Consider that Problem No. 1.
Next, contemplate the language we use to describe the "founding" of new
European colonies. This is, say it with me, the "Age of Discovery." In 1492,
Columbus discovered (even though he wasn't first) America. Now, that's a
loaded term. Isn't it just as accurate to say that Native Americans
discovered Columbus-a lost and confused soul-when he landed upon their
shores?
When we say Europeans discovered the "New World," we're-not
inadvertently-implying that there was nothing substantial going on in the
Americas until the Caucasians showed up. Europe has a dated, chronological
history, reaching back at least to the Greeks, which most students learn in
elementary school and later on in Western Civilization classes. Not so for
the Native Americans. Their public history starts in 1492, or, for
Americans, in 1607. What came before, then, hardly matters.
Inauspicious Beginnings
Englishmen came neither to escape religious persecution nor to found a New
Jerusalem. Not to Virginia, at least. No, the corporate-backed expedition-by
the Virginia Joint Stock Company-sought treasure (think gold), to find a
northwest passage to India, and balance the rival Catholic Spaniards. But,
first and foremost, they pursued profit.
The expedition barely survived. That should come as little surprise. They
chose a malarial swamp for a home. The first ships carried mostly
aristocrats-"gentlemen," as they were then labeled-with a few laborers and
carpenters for good measure. Gentlemen didn't work or deal with the dirty
business of farming and settling. But they did like to argue-and there were
too many "chiefs" on this voyage. The first party did not include any
farmers or women. Only 30 percent survived the first winter. Two years
later, only 60 out of 500 colonists survived the "Starving Time." Over the
first 17 years, 6,000 people arrived, but only 1,200 were alive in 1624. One
guy ate his wife.
So why the disaster? Why the poor site selection and early starvation? First
off, the colonists chose a site inland on the James River because they
feared detection by the more powerful Spanish. But mainly the disaster came
down to colonial motivations. Jamestown was initially about profit, not
settlement. Corporate dividends, not community. This was the private sector,
not a permanent national venture. In that sense, matters in early Virginia
were not unlike modern American economics.
Saved by Tobacco, the First Drug Economy
"Martin's Best Virginia at the Tobacco Role in Bloomsbury Market," a woodcut
advertisement for Virginia tobacco showing black children working on a
tobacco plantation in Virginia.
(Wikimedia Commons)
They never did find much gold, or, for that matter, a northwest passage.
Then again, they didn't all starve to death. Rather, the venture was saved
by a different sort of "gold"-the cash crop of tobacco. Tobacco changed the
entire dynamic of colonization and control in North America. Finally, there
was money to be made. The Englishmen shipped the newest vice eastward and
pulled a handsome profit in return. Our beloved forefathers were early drug
dealers. More migrants now crossed the Atlantic to get in on the tobacco
windfall.
The plentiful "gentlemen" of Virginia sought to re-create their landed
estates in England. Despite significant early conflict with the native
Powhatan Confederacy, large tobacco plantations eventually developed along
the coast. Who, though, would work these fields? Certainly not the
landowners. The burgeoning aristocracy had two choices: lower-class English
or Scots-Irish indentured servants (who worked for a fixed period in the
promise of future acres) and African slaves. Whom to choose? Unsurprisingly,
ethics played little role, and cost was the defining factor.
When mortality was high in the colony's early years, plantation owners
favored the cheaper indentured (mainly white) servants. But as more families
planted corn, kept cattle and improved nutrition, death rates fell and
slaves became more appealing. After all, though expensive in upfront costs,
slaves worked for life, and the slave owners got to keep their offspring.
Nevertheless, for the first several decades, an interracial mix of slaves
and servants worked the land in Virginia.
Bacon's Rebellion and the American Future
"The Burning of Jamestown" by Howard Pyle. It depicts destruction in
Jamestown, Virginia, during Bacon's Rebellion (1676-77). (Wikimedia Commons)
The problem with the tobacco economy was one of space. To be profitable,
cash crops require expansive acreage, and in Virginia this meant movement
inland. This expansion set the Englishmen on a collision course with local
Native Americans. Furthermore, what was plantation society to do about those
indentured servants who survived and matriculated? Land would have to be
found somewhere. (Though not near the coasts and early settlements. The
"gentlemen" weren't about to divide up their own large estates.) In order to
maintain their chosen societal model-landed aristocracy-in which the
wealthiest 10 percent possessed half the wealth and the bottom 60 percent
held less than 10 percent of accumulated wealth, new land would have to be
found further west-in "Indian territory."
Thing is, after some bloody, early wars with the Powhatan, most "gentlemen"
preferred a stable, secure status quo. (Not another war. That'd be bad for
business.) However, falling tobacco prices, increased competition from
nearby colonies and the relentless search by the former indentured class for
more land brought frontier Virginians into conflict with an easy scapegoat:
nearby Native Americans. Frustrated lower-class men-both white and
black-rallied behind a young, discontented aristocrat, a firebrand named
Nathaniel Bacon. Bacon led his interracial poor-people's army in attacks on
local Natives and, eventually, on Gov. William Berkeley and the
establishment "gentlemen." In 1675 and 1676, Bacon's throng destroyed
plantations and even burned Jamestown before Bacon died of disease (the
"bloody fluxe") and the rebellion petered out.
Bacon's Rebellion was one of the foundational-and most misunderstood-events
in American history. Here, a populist army savagely assaulted hated Native
Americans and aristocrats alike. A mix of black and white former indentured
servants demonstrated the fragility of Virginian society. The planter class
was terrified. In order to avoid a repeat at all costs, the landed gentry
made a devil's bargain. To ensure stability, they realized they must co-opt
some of the poor without ceding their own privileged status.
Enter America's original sins: racism and white privilege. Plantation owners
simply hired fewer indentured servants and became more reliant on (black)
African chattel slaves for their labor force. The planters also threw a bone
to the middling whites, lowering some taxes and allowing more political
representation for white male Virginians.
The implications were as disturbing as they were enduring. White unity
became the organizing principle of life in colonial Virginia. To be fair,
poor whites lived difficult lives and always outnumbered their aristocratic
betters. Nonetheless, these lower-class Caucasians benefited from the new,
racialized social system. Pale skin became a badge of honor-life may not be
optimal, but "at least we are white." Black freemen became a thing of the
past, and soon "blackness" became inseparably associated with slavery and
the lowest of social classes. Black skin became a brand of slavery, and
runaways could no longer blend into colonial society. Slaves were easily
spotted by virtue of their color.
Bacon's Rebellion linked land, labor and race together in nefarious ways.
Land (ownership) remained the path to freedom. Labor remained essential to
profiting from the land, and race came to define the relationship between
land and labor. After 1676, a class-based system morphed into a race-based
system of labor and social structure. The demand for African slaves rose and
a triangular trade developed among North America, Africa and Europe. It
seemed everyone benefited from slave labor-it became an Atlantic system. The
American South had transformed from a society with slaves to a slave
society. It would remain so for nearly two centuries. Race became a
prevalent fact of life in the Americas-and still is, 342 years later.
* * *
There's nothing simple about America's origins, and it is well that this is
so. In that way, the United States is like most other modern nation-states.
Leaving behind exceptionalist rhetoric and exploring uncomfortable truths
signify intellectual maturity. Should this country wish to move forward, be
its best self and fulfill the dream of its finest rhetoric, then the
citizenry must dispense with reassuring myths and grapple with inconvenient
truths.
What, then, do Jamestown and early Virginia have to tell us in 2018? Perhaps
this: American slavery arose alongside and intertwined with American
freedom. Our society descends from a sinister original sin: the development
of a race-based caste system along the banks of the James River. Race,
class, labor and slavery were inextricably linked in our colonial past. They
remain so today.
This is the first installment in the ongoing "American History for
Truthdiggers" series. A new chapter will be posted on Truthdig every other
Saturday.
The views expressed in this article are those of the author, expressed in an
unofficial capacity, and do not reflect the official policy or position of
the Department of the Army, Department of Defense, or the U.S. government.
