Adornment and Identity: The use of material culture for resistance or assimilation in the African Diaspora

 

Fashioning an identity beyond the middle passage can be a challenge for enslaved Africans. By examining the possession and expression of material culture in new world environments by African slaves I hope to portray a better understanding of how Africans, in slavery and after freedom, forged identities to assimilate or reject the dominant imperial cultures. By far the most comprehensive study of material culture by slaves in the new world is The Language of Dress: Resistance and Accommodation in Jamaica, 1760-1890 by Steeve O. Buckridge. While this in depth evaluation is limited to the women of Jamaica, one could extrapolate that slaves in other parts of the New World experienced similar relationships with material culture, however this assumption lacks any in depth analysis and itself requires further study. Buckridge does provide however a formidable canvas to project against the articles of other scholars on the subject. Strikingly similar in their assumptions, though from disparate locations in the New World, Tamara J. Walker gives a rich understanding of slave adornment in Peru in her article ‘He outfitted his family in notable decency’: Slavery, honour and dress in eighteenth-century Lima, Peru. Walker provides an up close view on the behaviors of Afro Peruvian slaves and the manner in which they forge identities through dress in an honorific society that uses material culture to demonstrate hierarchy. From another perspective still relevant to the discussion of material culture for slaves in the New World, Silvia Hunold Lara contributes two articles: The signs of color: Women’s dress and racial relations in Salvador and Rio de Janeiro, ca 1750-1815 and Customs and costumes: Carlos Julião and the image of black slaves in late eighteenth-century Brazil.  In the former Lara explores the symbology of power and morality expressed in white slave owner’s dress and the use of slaves as canvasses to display their own nobility in elaborate parades of liveried slaves escorting well turned out masters. In the latter, Lara warns against using an exclusively European Imperialist perspective in examining the dress and customs of African slaves, a sentiment echoed by Walker in her discussion on eighteenth-century Peru. What Hunold does set out to do is to evaluate the artwork of Carlos Julião in South Central Brazil during the late eighteenth century to decipher the meaning of the iconography exhibited in the fashions of both the free and enslaved Africans, as well as the white population. Her conclusions reverberate both the hypothesis of Walker and Buckridge which identify the importance of the visual language of dress to denote rank in social hierarchy and the attempts of white Europeans to restrict slaves from appropriating social distinctions reserved for whites through dress. Finally, two articles which explore the transported material culture of slaves, The archaeology of African-American slavery and material culture by Patricia Samford and The middle passage and the material culture of captive Africans by Jerome S. Handler, round out the discussion on the transmigration, transformation, and exploitation of material culture by Africans in the New World to forge new identities or retain historic ones, as a mode of sharing ones culture and history, or as a political statement or means of upward mobility to resist or assimilate into the dominate culture.

Bibliography

Buckridge, S. O. 2004. The Language of Dress: Resistance and Accommodation in Jamaica, 1760-1890.  University of the West Indies Press. Kingston, Jamaica.

Handler, J. S. (2009). The middle passage and the material culture of captive Africans. Slavery & Abolition, 30(1), 1-26.

Lara, S. H. (1997). The signs of color: Women's dress and racial relations in Salvador and Rio de Janeiro, ca 1750-1815. Colonial Latin American Review, 6(2), 205.

Lara, S. H. (2002). Customs and costumes: Carlos Julião and the image of black slaves in late eighteenth-century Brazil. Slavery & Abolition, 23(2), 125-146.

Samford, P. (1996). The archaeology of African-American slavery and material culture. William & Mary Quarterly, 53(1), 87.

Walker, T. J. (2009). 'He outfitted his family in notable decency': Slavery, honour and dress in eighteenth-century Lima, Peru. Slavery & Abolition, 30(3), 383-402.

Shifting Ideals of Freedom

A man of superior intellect, Olaudah Equiano provides a colorful window into the world of slavery and the meaning of freedom in his autobiography, The Life of Olaudah Equiano, or Gustavus Vassa, the African, as he travels from freedom into slavery and beyond to a new sense of physical and spiritual liberty. Equiano details his experiences as a narrative for abolition, and in doing so constructs an experience which suggests that hard work, focus, and faith can lead the enslaved African into a world of light and freedom, though he does acknowledge himself to be a “particular favourite of Heaven” (Equiano, p. 10). His prescription for liberty suggests striving towards small liberties within the state of slavery, on to actual freedom from slavery, transcending into a spiritual freedom, and eventually spreading the good will of freedom towards other enslaved blacks as he joins forces with abolitionists. In doing so Equiano prescribes assimilation into the dominant Christian European culture, and turns his back on the cultural history of his homeland. His being a ‘particular favourite of Heaven’ also provides him with a privileged experience within the construct of slavery, which while certainly a hardship does not necessarily parallel the experience of other enslaved Africans. 

Freedom for Equiano was a shifting construct which took shape around the experiences of his enslavement. In his middle passage he suffers the “shrieks of the women, and the groans of the dying, render[ing] it a scene of horror almost inconceivable” (Equiano, p. 33). When at first suffering through slavery such as this he seeks small freedoms within the confines of mistreatment: learning the many roles of sailing; visiting with his master’s sister and niece; becoming baptized; educating himself and being favored in his treatment. However, with the passing of time and the treachery of his misuse, as negligible as it may be to other enslaved Africans, Equiano discovers freedom can only mean manumission to allow him to command his own person in the world. He applies himself industriously to the task and is afforded the prized liberty on July 11, 1776, roughly twenty years after his capture when at last the world addressed him by the most “desirous [appellation] in the world – that of Freeman” (Equiano, p. 102).  Now inhabiting the new ideal of freedom he has longed for, Equiano is confronted with the realities of his sable skin even in freedom as “the state of a free negro appeared to me now equally so at least, and in some respects even worse; for they live in constant alarm for their liberty, which is but nominal; and they are universally insulted and plundered without the possibility of redress” (Equiano, p. 89).  Amidst this changing notion of freedom, Equiano concludes that manumission offers little freedom.   

As he sinks into dismay Equiano finds in his consternation “the Lord was pleased to break upon my soul with his bright beams of heavenly light; and in an instant, as it were, removing the veil, and letting light into a dark place” (Equiano, p. 144). Through his revelation Equiano finds himself “willing to be saved by Jesus Christ, the sinner’s only surety, and also to rely on none other person or thing for salvation” (Equiano, p. 144). Thus, Equiano’s ultimate ideal of freedom is not that of physical freedom, but rather of spiritual ascension into Heaven upon death. As he understands his new goal he sets forth with as much industry as he did to gain the forty pounds necessary for his manumission. Prescriptively obeying the tenets of the Christian faith for his spiritual liberty.

As Equiano equates his own freedom with his ascension to Christianity, he inherently understands the freedom of all Africans to be available through the same channel. The abolitionist spirit has long been embedded in the scriptures of Christianity with the notion that no Christian can enslave another Christian. In this truth Equiano perceives himself and other Africans equal to that of Europeans, and upon reaching new heights within his own faith he turns his attention to the independence of his countrymen he is recruited as “a proper person to act as commissary for the government in the intended expedition” to reestablish freed slaves into their own community in Sierra Leone (Equiano, p. 174). Following this failed journey the ambitious Equiano has “the honour of presenting the Queen with a petition on behalf of my African brethren” where he begs vindication for his countrymen on their “common nature” (Equinao, p. 177).

However, what is striking in Equiano’s industrious and intelligent narrative is that of an advanced intellect and a providential slavery experience. Certainly Equiano experienced abuses and injustices due no man, but his experience was perhaps very unique from the hard labors of his countrymen who toiled under harsh masters in plantations and ships throughout the New World. In preaching redemption by conversion, he is addressing his British audience to reflect on their Christian faith and the parallels of their lives to his own and thus to grant freedom to the enslaved. He provides a moving and intricate rallying cry for freedom on behalf of his countrymen, but his prescription for liberty is not a feasible solution for all eighteenth century Africans. Few have the learning, the fortune, or the means to escape the treacheries of their abuses and win the salvation from physical labor which Equiano preaches. Therefore, his interesting narrative works well to align him (and by proxy his countrymen) to that of Europeans, but it fails to align him to the experiences of his fellow slaves.

The French Freedom Principle

The French proudly decry slavery from their European soil. They turn their backs to the toiling masses of Africans working the plantations of their colonial conquests as they smugly proclaim that slavery is not tolerated in their French homeland. To label their freedom fighting as humanitarianism is to ask whether it is charity to treat others as we wish to be treated, or is it in fact selfishness. An egocentric desire to have the liberty of controlling our own lives, enslaved to no master. As the abolition of serfdom in France and the much later ideals of liberty, equality and fraternity were won in the French Revolution show, freedom over one’s life was an important ideology in French culture. Sue Peabody, author of There Are No Slaves in France: The Political Culture of Race and Slavery in the Ancient Regime titles this movement as “developing a radical new political discourse based on notions of freedom, equality, and citizenship” (Peabody, p. 3). However, such an ideology for themselves and its resulting humanitarianism towards slavery was tempered by a pure blood mentality to keep France French and mired in the contemporaneous racism around those of African descent. The French were no humanitarians, they were fighting for equality amid a monarchical social strata, liberty from oppression, and resistance to the dilution of French blood with tainted African genetics.

While the relevance of Louis X’s 1315 ordinance to end serfdom is arguable grounds for the abolition of African slavery within France, it certainly sets an historical note for French pride over their freedom principle (Peabody, p. 28). Evidence has shown that “during the early modern period Europeans could not tolerate the notion of enslaving other Europeans…based on …the value of the individual” (Peabody, p. 68). Thus, the freedom principle becomes an individualist effort to establish liberty for themselves and by proxy all those within their borders. 

On the other hand, equality does not necessitate that all men be equal. Only that all Frenchmen be equal, and as the wealthy are far more likely to possess slaves allowing slavery in France would conflict with “an ideology of absolute social equality,” and illuminate the reality that “some classes of individuals are entitled to more privileges than others” (Peabody, p. 8).  In a fight for equality Rousseau best portrayed the French relationship with slavery in his 1762 work On The Social Contract when he “shows how a critique of monarchy via the metaphor of slavery was already being formulated” (Peabody, p. 96) Such a blending of personal slavery and freedom from monarchical tyranny only further complicates the French relationship with the issue of liberty for slaves arriving on French soil and suggests that the French are not fighting for the freedom of newly arrived slaves, but for their own status as free men from tyranny.

The most complex undercurrent to freedom however is the notion of race. At the vanguard of racial legislation was Poncet de la Grave, who argued heavily against African integration into French culture so as to protect the purity of French blood.  However, de la Grave was not alone in his racist quest as many others proclaimed the same concerns over Africans “exposing French blood to corruption” including the Duc de Choiseaul, Sartine, and a procureur général in the town of Chateauroux (Peabody, p. 131). Prepossessed with notions of the “colors mingling together and the blood degenerating” the French may have wanted to proclaim liberty as their byline, but in fact desired only to cleanse their land of dark flesh (Peabody, p. 119). For they developed legislation not for Africans to acquire freedom and make their lives in France, but rather to be shipped away with their new liberty. If it were only for slavery, not racism, legislation would be to restrict slaves, not blacks. Rather blacks are counted and registered regardless of their slave status (Peabody, p. 116). Concerns abound that granting liberty and residency “gives blacks the notion that they are equal to the ‘superior beings they are destined to serve’” (Peabody, p. 119). Perhaps de la Grave was most honest about French intentions when he promised “the race of negroes will be extinguished in the kingdom as soon as the transport of them is forbidden” (Peabody, p. 117). 

France’s “Freedom Principle” was entangled in the very liberty and equality that the French sought for themselves, and worked so hard to retain. However, it was also complexly enmeshed in a rampant culture of racism and an eerie desire to retain the “purity of French blood” from the contagion of an ebony complexion. This fight for freedom may have been extending an olive branch to those slaves that acquired their freedom during the era of the Admiralty Court of France, but it was heavily rooted in a desire for racial purity and exclusion of African influence.

Works Cited:

Peabody, Sue. There Are No Slaves in France : The Political Culture of Race and Slavery in the Ancient Regime.

Cary, NC, USA: Oxford University Press, Incorporated, 1996. <http://site.ebrary.com.ezproxy1.lib.asu.edu/lib/asulib/Doc?id=10086898>