{"title":"Does Whiggish Founderism Work for Black or Cultural History?","authors":"D. Waldstreicher","doi":"10.1353/rah.2022.0026","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"In 2007, Richard S. Newman introduced a group of essays in the William and Mary Quarterly under the rubric of “Black Founders in the New Republic.” He argued that the relatively neglected first generations of antislavery activists and community leaders like Richard Allen deserved that title at least as much as the white founding fathers who had been experiencing a revival in popular narratives and some scholarly circles. Calling them Black founders, Newman implied, would help historians appreciate the “spectrum of thought and activism” they displayed even as figures like Allen and Benjamin Banneker alternately claimed and challenged Washington and Jefferson. The analogy of founding fathers, as a generation and an array of leaders who theorized and strategized and organized, might even gain them some of the attention and veneration that white founders had been afforded in a spate of bestsellers.1 At the time I remember thinking at the time that applying “founders” lingo to African Americans in the early republic risked letting what I and others had been calling “Founders Chic” off the hook. It begged the question of the relationship between white and Black founders and thus obscured the question of the relationship of slavery and of African Americans to the larger narrative of U.S. history. It also might bury the increasingly evident historiographical relationship between the two topics, slavery and the founding of the United States, which was not so much one of an emerging opportunity for African American history as a backlash to it—for it seemed obvious that increased attention to slavery and Black histories, especially in the form of Sally Hemings, had itself sent some historians into impassioned searches for still-heroic, still “revolutionary” founders (first Adams, then Washington, then Franklin, later Hamilton) whose antislavery credentials had been newly exaggerated.2 Perhaps I needn’t have worried so much. There proved to be plenty, perhaps all too many, other ways to keep those tensions in focus—and even on the front page.","PeriodicalId":43597,"journal":{"name":"REVIEWS IN AMERICAN HISTORY","volume":"50 1","pages":"249 - 256"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2000,"publicationDate":"2022-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":"0","resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":null,"PeriodicalName":"REVIEWS IN AMERICAN HISTORY","FirstCategoryId":"1085","ListUrlMain":"https://doi.org/10.1353/rah.2022.0026","RegionNum":4,"RegionCategory":"历史学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":null,"EPubDate":"","PubModel":"","JCR":"Q2","JCRName":"HISTORY","Score":null,"Total":0}
引用次数: 0
Abstract
In 2007, Richard S. Newman introduced a group of essays in the William and Mary Quarterly under the rubric of “Black Founders in the New Republic.” He argued that the relatively neglected first generations of antislavery activists and community leaders like Richard Allen deserved that title at least as much as the white founding fathers who had been experiencing a revival in popular narratives and some scholarly circles. Calling them Black founders, Newman implied, would help historians appreciate the “spectrum of thought and activism” they displayed even as figures like Allen and Benjamin Banneker alternately claimed and challenged Washington and Jefferson. The analogy of founding fathers, as a generation and an array of leaders who theorized and strategized and organized, might even gain them some of the attention and veneration that white founders had been afforded in a spate of bestsellers.1 At the time I remember thinking at the time that applying “founders” lingo to African Americans in the early republic risked letting what I and others had been calling “Founders Chic” off the hook. It begged the question of the relationship between white and Black founders and thus obscured the question of the relationship of slavery and of African Americans to the larger narrative of U.S. history. It also might bury the increasingly evident historiographical relationship between the two topics, slavery and the founding of the United States, which was not so much one of an emerging opportunity for African American history as a backlash to it—for it seemed obvious that increased attention to slavery and Black histories, especially in the form of Sally Hemings, had itself sent some historians into impassioned searches for still-heroic, still “revolutionary” founders (first Adams, then Washington, then Franklin, later Hamilton) whose antislavery credentials had been newly exaggerated.2 Perhaps I needn’t have worried so much. There proved to be plenty, perhaps all too many, other ways to keep those tensions in focus—and even on the front page.
期刊介绍:
Reviews in American History provides an effective means for scholars and students of American history to stay up to date in their discipline. Each issue presents in-depth reviews of over thirty of the newest books in American history. Retrospective essays examining landmark works by major historians are also regularly featured. The journal covers all areas of American history including economics, military history, women in history, law, political history and philosophy, religion, social history, intellectual history, and cultural history. Readers can expect continued coverage of both traditional and new subjects of American history, always blending the recognition of recent developments with the ongoing importance of the core matter of the field.