August
8, 2020
MY CORNER by Boyd
Cathey
John “Oswatomie”
Brown and the Present Revolution
Friends,
I pass on just one essay today, an essay I think
most readers will not have seen or read. In our present climate where
everything is meticulously measured and scrupulously evaluated by hyper-fanatic
totalitarian-wannabes for fealty and strict obedience to a new and ever-advancing
“anti-racist” narrative, our history is being radically re-written. Everything these
days must agree with the ironclad racial narrative—which is more severe and
unforgiving than any ukase by a Russian tsar or infallible proclamation by the
Roman pontiff.
In this regard, Jim Bovard takes a refreshing look
at the historical figure of the terrorist John “Oswatomie” Brown, with
fascinating research and information.
Pass it on to a “woke” friend, if you
still have one:
Anti-Slavery
Zealot John Brown Is No Hero
Yet poets Thoreau and Emerson made him a god and helped
spark the Civil War.
Many Americans have been aghast at violent
mobs toppling statues and the widespread looting and destructive
rampages that followed the killing of George Floyd. Media coverage often
ignores the damage inflicted by righteous rioters and the businessmen, black
and white, whose livelihoods have been destroyed. Instead, activists are
portrayed as heroic because of their political rhetoric and demands for
radical changes.
Soaring political animosity is sparking fears
of much greater conflicts in the coming months. More than 160 years ago, a
similar pattern paved the way for a conflict that ravaged much of the
nation. Few people are aware of how one of America’s most respected
philosophers helped inflame the divisions that led to the first Civil War in
1861.
In his 1849 essay, “On the Duty Of Civil Disobedience,” Henry David Thoreau boldly
declared: “That government is best which governs not at all.” After a night
spent in jail for refusing to pay taxes, Thoreau “saw that the State was
half-witted.” He concluded, “I quietly declare war with the State,” withdrawing
his allegiance as long as the government enforced unjust laws.
But late in his life, Thoreau mutated into
an apologist for bloodthirsty political fanaticism. Thoreau, following in the
footsteps of his friend Ralph Waldo Emerson, believed that “our whole life is startlingly moral. There is never an
instant’s truce between virtue and vice.” Thoreau was a Transcendentalist with
boundless faith in absolute truth and absolute goodness. And he never doubted
that he perceived those absolutes far more clearly than the vast majority of
people who “lead lives of quiet desperation,” as he
wrote in Walden.
Thoreau was justifiably fiercely opposed to
slavery. He had initially been wary of fire-breathing Abolitionists who wanted
the nation to pay any price to end slavery until he met and swooned for
John Brown in 1857. Thoreau donated to Brown after hearing him make a
rabble-rousing speech. Thoreau bragged that he “never read” the political
columns in newspapers because “I do not wish to blunt my sense of
right.” Maybe that helped explain Thoreau’s obliviousness (or lack of concern)
regarding Brown’s notorious murders in Pottawatomie, Kansas, when he and his sons hacked to death
five men living in a pro-slavery portion of the state. That 1856 carnage
embodied one of Brown’s favorite sayings: “Without the shedding of blood, there is no
remission of sin.”
In October 1859, Brown led a band of zealots attacking
Harper’s Ferry, Virginia to seize the federal arsenal, part of his plan to end
slavery via the mass killing of slave owners across the South. Mount Holyoke
University professor Christopher Benfey aptly characterized Brown in the New York Review of
Books in 2013 as someone who was “murderous, inept, politically
marginal, probably insane.” Most of the nation was horrified by Brown’s attack
at Harper’s Ferry, which was speedily put down by federal troops led by Lt.
Colonel Robert E. Lee. Even the nation’s foremost abolitionist newspaper, The
Liberator, condemned Brown’s attack as “a misguided, wild, and apparently
insane–effort.” Horace Greeley wrote in the New York
Tribune that “the way to universal emancipation lies not through
insurrection, civil war, and bloodshed, but through peace, discussion, and
quiet diffusion of sentiments of humanity and justice.”
But Thoreau decided that Brown was literally
Jesus—or at least that Jesus and John Brown were “two ends of a chain which I
rejoice to know is not without its links.” In “A Plea for John Brown,” an oration delivered in Concord,
Massachusetts two weeks after Brown’s attack, Thoreau referred to Brown as an
“angel of light” and described Brown’s Harper’s Ferry accomplices as his
“twelve disciples.” Thoreau hailed “the new saint who would make the gallows as
glorious as the cross.”
Thoreau exalted Brown: “No man has
appeared in America, as yet, who loved his fellow man so well, and treated him so tenderly.” That was balderdash on par with Stalin’s
apologists gushing in the 1930s about the “peace-loving Soviet Union.” When
Thoreau and Emerson met Brown in 1857, Brown told them that it would be “better for a
whole generation of men, women, and children should pass away by violent death”
than for the Golden Rule or Declaration of Independence to ever be
violated. Rather than recognizing Brown as a lunatic seeking a pretext to
slaughter much of humanity, Thoreau and Emerson hailed him as a moral
visionary. But they never explained how to reconcile the Golden Rule with
genocide.
For Thoreau, Brown’s self-evident goodness made
his killings irrelevant. Thoreau declared, “The question is not about the
weapon, but the spirit in which you use it.” As University of Connecticut
Professor Michael Meyer noted in 1980, “Thoreau’s
Transcendentalism allowed him to disregard any information about
Brown which might have tarnished his image as martyr.” Thoreau focused on
Brown’s “willingness to be killed—rather than Brown’s willingness to kill
indiscriminately for his cause. Thoreau never mentions that the first man killed by Brown’s
raiding party at Harper’s Ferry was a free black man who was shot in the back.”
Similarly, Thoreau touted Brown’s fight against slavery in Kansas but never
mentioned the Pottawattomie massacre. Thoreau also entitled himself to disregard any publications which vigorously criticized Brown: “they
are not human enough to affect me at all.”
Thoreau and Emerson rallied northern opinion
to view Brown as a martyr; Emerson also explicitly defined Brown as a “new saint” and labeled him “the rarest of heroes, a pure
idealist.” David Reynolds, a CUNY professor and author of a book on how John
Brown “sparked the Civil War,” wrote in 2013 that Thoreau and Emerson’s
“bold, virtually solitary public support of John Brown rescued Brown from
infamy.” Thoreau and Emerson swayed northerners to see Brown as a hero;
Thoreau’s “plea” concluded with a call for vengeance against the South. As a
result, “many Southerners viewed the raid as a larger Northern scheme to
directly attack the South, leading to increased sectional distrust and accelerating the approach of
secession in 1861,” as the American Battlefield Trust noted.
For Thoreau and Emerson, “trust yourself” was
effectively replaced by “kill them all and let God sort them out.” Thanks in
part to their efforts, “a passion for the violent solution to slavery was
sweeping the abolitionist citizens of the nation,” as historian Thomas
Fleming wrote in A Disease in the Public Mind:
A New Understanding of Why We Fought the Civil War.
Radical Republican Congressional leaders
“unanimously agreed that the integrity of the Union should be
preserved, though it cost a million lives,” the New York
Times reported on Christmas Day 1860. Massachusetts governor John
Albion declared, “We must conquer the South.” Pro-war
Bostonians urged the governor to “drive the ruffians into the Gulf of
Mexico and give the country to the Negroes.” [….]
Thoreau’s canonization of John Brown helped
drive the nation to a Civil War that left more than 700,000 soldiers dead. With
each passing year, the conflict became more unhinged from basic decency.
Shortly before he launched his famous swath of destruction through Georgia in
1864, Gen. William Tecumseh Sherman telegraphed the Secretary of War that “there
is a class of people—men, women, and children—who must be killed or banished
before you can hope for peace and order.”
Though the end of slavery was a blessing, the
war’s aftermath unleashed new poxes. As a result of illness, poverty, and
negligence by federal officials, roughly 25 percent of freed slaves died or became gravely ill in the first years after the war, as
Connecticut College Professor Jim Downs noted in his 2012 book, Sick
from Freedom.
Was it worth it? It is open to dispute whether
a war was necessary to end slavery in America. Abraham Lincoln said in 1859 that he was “quite sure
[slavery] would not outlast the century.” Slavery ended almost every place else
in the western hemisphere without a civil war. In early 1862, Lincoln asked Congress “to consider a
constitutional amendment that would guarantee compensated emancipation to
any state, including those in rebellion, that would agree to abolish slavery
gradually by 1900,” Fleming noted. But abolitionists torpedoed the proposal and
demanded that the war continue.
John Brown was the living embodiment of the
19th century quip: “A fanatic is someone who does what the Lord would do if He
knew the facts of the matter.” Similarly, the mobs in many cities that are
currently unleashing violence are convinced they are doing God’s work—or at
least obeying the commandments they imbibed in college sociology classes. But
the idiocy of the new saviors knows no bounds, as illustrated by their attacks on statues of
Frederick Douglass in New York, the monument of the 54th Massachusetts regiment (one of the most famous colored
regiments in the Civil War), and their beheading of the statute of Col. Hans Christian
Heg, a Union officer who helped rescue escaped slaves before 1861. The Black
Student Union and the Student Inclusion Coalition of the University of
Wisconsin are also demanding removal of a statute of Abraham Lincoln on
their campus.
Thoreau’s deification of John Brown should be
a reminder of the perils of glorifying political violence in the name of any
ideal. John Brown’s legacy vivified how hatred is far easier to unleash than to
control. Reasonable people can usually reach compromises or craft
accommodations with happier results than mobs driven berserk by the latest
Twitter hashtag.
James Bovard is the author of Lost Rights, Attention
Deficit Democracy, and Public Policy Hooligan. He is also a USA Today columnist. Follow him on Twitter @JimBovard.
Pingback: https://thesouthronsentinel.com/a-disturbing-parallel/
ReplyDeleteGod deliver us from self-righteous liberal fools like Thoreau and Emerson.
ReplyDeleteThe movie Santa Fe Trail presents an interesting picture of John Brown. While most of the characters have some sympathy for Brown's cause, they quickly realize the man is a dangerous fanatic. Most interesting aspect of the movie is that the hero and leading man (over Ronald Reagan's Custer) is Jeb Stuart (played by Errol Flynn). Unimaginable in today's times.
ReplyDeleteRaymond Massey makes a good John Brown in SANTA FE TRAIL, just the right amount of relenting fanaticism and believability, with eyes that betray a streak of lunacy. Of course, the film could not be made today; in fact, if the crazed Antifa/BLM types have their way, it may follow the path of SONG OF THE SOUTH (and even GONE WITH THE WIND).
ReplyDeleteIf you've never seen Flynn in ROCKY MOUNTAIN, please check it out: a wonderfully, pro-Confederate film--the first time I saw it, I cried at the end as they played "Dixie" in honor of the fallen Confederates.
I should have written "unrelenting fanaticism" in my previous comment.
ReplyDelete