Showing posts with label antinomianism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label antinomianism. Show all posts

Monday, September 27, 2021

Conscience as a Historical Force: The Liberation Theology of Herman Husband -- a preview

From the book that is, for all practical purposes, finished -- copyright Douglas Harvey, 2021.

Table of Contents

Introduction …………………………………………………………………….. 1

PART 1: AGRARIANISM, CAPITALISM, ANTINOMIANISM

Chapter 1: Early Modern Context ……………………….……………………... 8

Wherein there is an exploration of five main analytical points regarding the eighteenth century: 1) The Indigenous World; 2) Enclosure; 3) The Rise of Capitalism; 4) The consequences of the “Glorious” Revolution; 5) Antinomianism (radical Christianity). The discourse within these five categories is largely informed by elements of the “transition debate,” especially Rodney Hilton and Ellen Meiksins Wood.

Chapter 2: The Making of an Eighteenth-Century Antinomian ……………….. 36

This is an analysis and contextualization of Herman Husband’s first (self)-published writing: Some Remarks on Religion, which is a “conversion narrative” in the Quaker tradition. There is a psychoanalytical element to this chapter, mainly tapping this vein going back to William James’ Varieties of Religious Experience. The psychological transformation called by many religious people the “second birth” is explored in the case study of Herman Husband.

Chapter 3: The Desperation of Accumulation …………………………………. 65

North Carolina had a reputation as the most corrupt and “backward” of Britain’s North American colonies. This chapter combines a survey of land accumulation and enclosure with an introduction of the institutionalized abuses of the “courthouse rings” that led to the well-known “Regulation” of the 1760s. This story has its parallels in every colony and state in U.S. history.

Chapter 4: Regulating the Narrative …………………………………………… 91

Because there are some thirty histories of the North Carolina Regulation (1765-1771) dating back to the first one written by Herman Husband in 1770, this chapter is an analysis of some of those early histories and their authors. A study of them provides insight into nineteenth-century American (U.S.) discourse and the political economics of those who weighed in on this topic. A brief summary of the Regulation is included, as well as an analysis of Herman Husband’s first pamphlets and sermons.

PART 2: THE BOOK OF HERMAN

Chapter 5: Tuscape Death ………………………………………………………126

Herman Husband was a marked man after the Battle of Alamance in May of 1771. He fled to the Pennsylvania mountains, leaving his family in the care of relatives in Hagerstown, Maryland. His grandson, David Husband, wrote a history of early Somerset County, Pennsylvania in a series first published in 1870. David was the last person to write from Herman Husband’s own journal, lost in a fire around 1880. Local historian Ronald Bruner rescued these articles from crumbling pages of the Somerset newspaper and published them in 2005. This chapter includes an exegesis on Herman’s Proposal to Amend pamphlet of 1782, as well as his “vision” he had near the Allegheny Front on the Pennsylvania-Maryland border in 1779. This chapter combines this remnant of Husband’s Journal with an analysis of his pamphlet Proposal to Amend the Constitution of the United States. This is also an exegesis of his metaphorical interpretation of relevant biblical passages.

Chapter 6: Return of the Beast ………………………………………………… 161

Husband was convinced that the merchant-banker-planter coup of 1787 (AKA the Constitution Convention) was a step backwards. The new government’s 1791 “Tax on Spirits” triggered resistance known as “The Whiskey Rebellion,” (some of us prefer the term “Pennsylvania Regulation” and that is the term I use). Husband wrote two pamphlets with the goal of alerting the public to the dangers of this reactionary coup: Sermon to the Bucks and Hinds of America and 14 Sermons on Jacob’s 14 Sons. He outlined a draft of an alternative Constitution and laid out other aspects of a government that he perceived were laid down in the Bible for that purpose.

Chapter 7: The End of the World ……………………………………………… 201

Husband left behind a booklet of unpublished, handwritten, handbound sermons based on the Book of Daniel. These represent his “Fifth Monarchist” beliefs. Fifth Monarchists argue that there have been four great monarchies in the world since the Creation, but the fifth will be the New Jerusalem (Paradise) brought about by the return of the Messiah. In most versions of the myth, this is preceded by armed conflict. Husband’s Fifth Monarchism is non-violent, and the “Messiah” is a metaphor for people who live by listening to the “Christ within”; i.e., their own consciences. This “exegesis” is underlain by the reactionary coup of 1787 and subsequent Pennsylvania Regulation of the early 1790s. Herman Husband was arrested and charged with sedition, spent the winter in a Philadelphia jail, was pardoned in the spring, but had contracted pneumonia and died on the way home in June, 1795.

Conclusion …………………………………………………………………….. 221

Endnotes ………………………………………………………………………. 223

Works Cited …………………………………………………………………… 241

Introduction

“We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.” Alice Walker brought these words from June Jordan’s 1978 poem to the attention of the American public in 2006 with her book by that name. Commemorating a protest by South African women against the brutal apartheid system of that country in 1956, it was popularized in song by “Sweet Honey in the Rock” in 1998. It is an old message and a spiritual sibling of “We Shall Overcome.” This was, at base, the eighteenth-century message of Herman Husband, a backcountry farmer, preacher, and activist. But the message is much older still. Antinomian radicals – religious revolutionaries who denied the right of anyone to hold power over them – argued that their connection to the divine in their own hearts was the only legitimate authority and if everyone heeded that inner voice it would midwife a paradise on earth. Anne Hutchinson was one of these, as was Herman Husband (1724-1795).

This book is a study of the antinomian Husband and his “liberation theology.” Theologians and historians use the term “antinomian” to refer to those radical sects or independent followers of Christianity who deny ecclesiastical or secular authority, which usually means a repudiation of transubstantiation, child baptism, marriage rites, swearing of oaths, and other institutions of established religion. This anarchist tendency is often accompanied by political radicalism, as well, such as a demand for universal suffrage and democratic control of economic affairs. As for “liberation theology,” this appellation is usually applied to the followers of Father Gustavo Gutièrrez of twentieth-century Peru and, as with many socialist tendencies it also has a rich history over the last few centuries.

Herman Husband was deeply involved in two major revolutionary movements in North America: the North Carolina Regulation of 1765-1771 and the Whiskey Rebellion of 1791-1795. In both cases, Herman Husband’s antinomian radicalism was considered by the authorities to be one of the biggest threats to their power and control. While these topics are well-covered (if not well-understood), no historians have undertaken to analyze his liberation theology. This includes his numerous sermons and pamphlets that he left behind, rich with metaphorical language. It remains unanswered why he, specifically, as a pacifist was considered such a threat by the authorities. This book addresses that question. His metaphorical reading of the Bible is powerful but not easy for the modern reader to digest. Once this is brought into focus, Herman Husband can be seen as a poet; an artist who used the language of the Bible to express what he felt would liberate the common people and create a democratic society of “peace, justice, and order.” Adhering to one’s own conscience was the path forward for all, and until a critical mass of people did that, arbitrary rule, tyranny, and slavery will prevail. This was common in the antinomian world of the early modern period, although usually quickly suppressed by the established power structure.

The central problems Husband and his cohort faced are still with us. In the 1780s, the “Critical Period” of American history, aptly named by nineteenth-century historian John Fiske, it did not seem inevitable that the new republic would become a heavy-handed global empire. The idea that an informed commoner class would have a significant say in governmental policies was still on the table. The merchant-banker-planter elite did not yet have a lock on power in the new republic. That group met to design a document that consolidated their power in Philadelphia in June of 1787. Charles Beard’s famous 1913 book on this topic, An Economic Interpretation of the Constitution of the United States, merely reminded people of the debate that gripped the new republic before and after that convention – debate over whether the conventioneers were elites trying to wrest control of the new republic from the sovereign states. This debate is a non sequitur; of course they were. They said so. Whether that was a good thing, an assumption in U.S. history classes since then, is arguable given the state of affairs as of this writing. In any case, I sometimes refer to the Philadelphia convention of 1787 and subsequent ratification of the document produced there (under the condition of adding a Bill of Rights, forced on them to obtain adequate votes for ratification, mind) as the Reaction of 1788. It is a handy heuristic device to present it as a kind of parallel to the bourgeois coup in England known as the “Glorious” Revolution of 1688. They are similar insofar as they both resulted in a seizure of control by the bourgeoisie and led to the creation of what historian John Brewer dubbed a “fiscal-military state.”

But there are multiple levels of empire happening here that I try to keep in view. In the indigenous world, there is the dominance of the Iroquois Confederacy in eastern Great Lakes region well into the eighteenth century. There are entities such as the Ohio Land Company of Virginia trying hard to wrest control of the land from the indigenous peoples west of the Alleghenies that led to the French-Indian War. This aspect includes the exploitation of unsuspecting colonists who were led to believe they are buying into a land of peace and plenty only to find themselves in the midst of a bloody and brutal frontier war. There are the bourgeois elites in the North American colonies who want to have their cake and eat it, too – meaning they want independence from the London bourgeoisie operating the levers of mercantile power, but they also want control of a new fiscal-military state in North America that provides significant checks on democracy. There are the micro versions of this where the local “courthouse rings” operating in the backcountry – sheriffs, lawyers, judges, and other well-placed local officials who use their power to rule over petty tyrannies again, victimizing vulnerable colonists who are simply looking for a place to live in peace and freedom. And let us not forget the plantation complex, that horrific nazi-esque method of stealing labor that produced most of the new nation’s wealth well into the nineteenth century. All of this is a far cry from peace, freedom, and that elusive concept: cooperation, which was much closer to Herman Husband’s vision. The colonial period in the Atlantic World was a time when the “Mercantile Code” was a dominant force in the halls of power. Defined further in the main body of this text, it is a term I borrowed from independent scholar William Hogeland. He defines it most succinctly in writing that it “was not a code of ethics but a collection of sharp practices, including self-dealing, hidden networks, side bets, and mutual patronage” – to say nothing of manipulating governments and their militaries for private gain. I employ this broader definition that includes these additional aspects that the twentieth century brought to the fore, although in hindsight it was plainly there all along. Herman Husband referred to its practitioners as “The Beast” in reference to one of the biblical “beasts” in the Book of Daniel. This is developed and explained below.

Herman Husband has been the subject of three biographies, two published, one recently. Many journal articles and book chapters have treated or at least mentioned Herman Husband. None of them address Husband’s metaphorically constructed liberation theology, preferring instead to follow the lead of Hugh Henry Brackenridge and Johann David Schoepf, eighteenth-century visitors to Herman’s abode who refer to him in condescending tones. That is a mistake, and utterly misses Husband’s significance, this book argues. Herman Husband’s liberation theology laid out specifics regarding governmental structure down to the local level and that the “designing men” of political parties with money and influence should be prevented from seizing control of electoral processes. He had a plan to finance government that left the merchant-banker-planter bourgeoisie out of the process. Gold and silver currency, like the bourgeoisie, should not be permitted as it was not needed – currency could be worked out among common working people who produced and retained their own wealth. Those who were entrusted with decision-making in public affairs would be required to live a monk-like existence during their terms, with no nepotism and no pay other than maintenance. Husband was no anti-intellectual – he preferred Voltaire and Montesquieu over established church dogmas.

Nevertheless, this is a spiritual biography. It begins with four chapters of Herman Husband’s development as an unwitting radical revolutionary. This includes the political-economic milieu of his era and an exploration of antinomian radicalism (Chapter 1). He left behind a “conversion narrative” that he published as a “New Light” Quaker where he begins to emphasize the importance of following the “Christ within” over church doctrines or the written word (Chapter 2). The level of corruption inherent in the “Mercantile Code” was on full display in colonial North Carolina, although it was widespread through the Atlantic world and beyond. This book explores the North Carolina microcosm of the abuses of power that first sent Herman Husband into radical politics (Chapter 3). The resulting North Carolina Regulation has been thoroughly worked over, including Herman Husband’s role in it. In the interest of finding new insight into that role, as well as what the early historiography may reveal, I have delved into those early works, of which Herman Husband’s own account is the first. In doing so, the roots of the lines of debate may be gleaned, helping to connect the 1760s to the present. This includes the first exegeses of Husband’s printed sermons which were included at the end of his history (Chapter 4).

The second part of the book is a continuation of these exegeses, focused almost exclusively on Herman Husband’s writings from the American Revolution period to his death in 1795. North Carolina Governor William Tryon and the colonial militia brutally but down the backcountry farmers’ resistance at the Battle of Alamance in 1771. Herman Husband, although a pacifist, would certainly have been hanged had he not fled to the Allegheny Mountains. His powerful vision in the Alleghenies in 1779 led him to publish his proposals for how the new republic could establish “justice, peace, and order” (Chapter 5). Husband was convinced that what Americans remember as the “Constitutional Convention” was an assertion of power by “The Beast,” from the biblical books of Daniel and Revelations. He pamphleteered his sermons on this topic (Chapter 6). There is a collection of his sermons that remained unpublished. This handwritten copy was an exegesis on the Book of Daniel that follows along “Fifth Monarchist” lines. Related to antinomianism, Fifth Monarchists believed that there had been four great kingdoms or monarchies in world history today. The fifth monarchy would usher in the New Jerusalem and a righteous leadership that, in Herman Husband’s reckoning, would come from the truth found in the human heart (Chapter 7). All of this is an attempt to see the world as Husband saw it in sympathy and solidarity with his vision and dreams.

As for terminology, I try to keep it simple, particularly regarding the transition from feudalism to capitalism, a process incomplete yet well underway in Herman Husband’s milieu. For example, I resist the temptation to use the term “working class” in an environment that is clearly agrarian, yet not exactly a peasantry. Instead, I use the word “commoners” or the “commoner class” or perhaps “agrarian commoner class” for this element of society. There were, nevertheless, many who would fit into a proletarian working class category, as the enclosure of lands and the deracination of the traditional peasantry was at its height. This includes both sides of the Atlantic – lands were being enclosed and engrossed by an economic elite to which I refer as the “merchant-banker” class, or the “merchant-banker-planter” class, or simply the bourgeoisie. Part of Herman Husband’s uniqueness is that he might have been a part of this bourgeoisie, but his antinomianism, i.e., his attention to the “Christ within” would not permit it. He chose to advocate for a liberation theology instead.

While I do pull in similar movements and beliefs present in the Atlantic world, this book is primarily about Herman Husband’s liberation theology. Revolutionary movements in the Atlantic world have been getting a steady treatment at least since Marcus Rediker and Peter Linebaugh’s Many-Headed Hydra came out in 2000. This book is part of that trend insofar as it presents a North American backcountry version of it. Husband has been mistreated and it is time to see what he saw from his perspective as much as one can accomplish that task. In engaging with Herman’s spirit as much as possible, I have felt like a musician trying to interpret the centuries-old works of a composer deeply engaged in his own inner world. Herman Husband was a poet who worked in the metaphorical realm of the Christian Bible. His interpretation was unique and creative. This book unpacks Herman Husband’s metaphorical language for the first time, revealing that Husband’s liberation theology was well-informed, radically democratic, socialistic, and liberating. Most importantly, his message is relevant today – bracketing June Jordan and Alice Walker and as Husband himself said, we are the ones for whom he was writing.  

Saturday, November 11, 2017

Review of Marcus Rediker, The Fearless Benjamin Lay

Marcus Rediker, The Fearless Benjamin Law: The Quaker Dwarf Who Became the First Revolutionary Abolitionist (Boston: Beacon Press, 2017).  212 pp. with endnotes and index.  Review by Douglas S. Harvey, Ph.D.


            Marcus Rediker, (Ph.D. University of Pennsylvania, 1982) Professor of History at the University of Pittsburgh, has an extensive background in the history of the Atlantic World, particularly regarding the history of the slave trade and piracy.  He has written, co-written, and edited ten books, including two that will likely remain relevant for generations, The Slave Ship: A Human History (New York: Viking-Penguin, 2007); and with Peter Linebaugh, The Many-Headed Hydra: Sailors, Slaves, Commoners, and The Hidden History of the Revolutionary Atlantic (Boston: Beacon Press, 2000).  More can be found at www.marcusrediker.com
            This is history “from the bottom-up,” bringing Benjamin Lay’s unique and amazing story as a hunchbacked, dwarf abolitionist from Essex County in England out of obscurity.  Rediker shows that not only was Lay in the vanguard of the abolitionist movement, but as a compassionate humanist, a man for our own times.  In addition to being a strident abolitionist, Lay was a vegetarian, an animal rights advocate, and an opponent of the death penalty.  After the death of his wife Sarah in 1735, he moved into a cave near Abington, Pennsylvania, where he produced most of his own food and made his own clothing.  He was well-known in the Philadelphia area – Benjamin Franklin published his book in 1738, and he was notorious among those who were the object of his wrath (namely slave-owners) at Quaker meeting houses.  Lay does not seem to have been overly concerned about being a “little person,” although it seems he had to endure some mockery because of it.  Nevertheless, it certainly did not curtail his radical activism.
            The thesis of the book is straightforward: Benjamin Lay brought together numerous strands of radicalism in his effort to condemn as the devil’s own device the institution of slavery.  Lay brought religious, philosophical, working-class, abolitionist, and commoner perspectives to the table.  The fact that these are all present and expressed through a single individual demonstrates, Rediker notes, that they can all be part of the same consciousness.  The evidence the author presents for this is abundant.
            Benjamin Lay was born into the radical Quaker tradition, a third generation Quaker born in 1682 in Copford, Essex.  By the time Benjamin reached adulthood, Quaker practices had toned down considerably from their early “inner light” visionary practices.  Lay gave this practice new life, especially after he married Sarah Smith, who was also a hunchbacked dwarf.  The spark that lit Lay’s (and Sarah’s) abolitionist fervor was a sojourn to Barbados in 1718.  Two years on that hellish sugar island in the Caribbean set the couple, especially Benjamin, on his lifelong abolitionist path.  The atrocities they witnessed defy description.  To help alleviate the suffering, the Lays started a meeting for the enslaved, eventually calling down the wrath of the planter elite.  Their subsequent campaign against slavery embraced Quaker practices from the early days of the religion.  The author elaborates on three of these practices: 1) Public rants against ministers; 2) The refusal of “Hat Honor” (i.e., not removing one’s hat during the Quaker meeting); and, 3) The use of provocative street theater (Rediker opens the book with a stunning example of this).
            The author also shows how Lay’s working-class background allowed him to connect with enslaved people who were routinely worked to death.  Lay’s work-life began as a shepherd, where he found peace in nature and the herding of sheep, no doubt a nurturing influence.  He then trained as a glover, difficult and monotonous work that would have helped him identify with enslaved people who were forced to perform endless rote tasks throughout their short lives.  He maintained some proficiency in this trade all of his life; Rediker notes that glover’s tools and supplies were in significant number in his will.
Eventually, Lay made his way to London.  There, the monotony of gloving led him to take up the life of a sailor, which brought him into contact with the diverse “motley crew” of that profession.  Experiences in the world of sailors, along with his later trip to Barbados led him to de-racialize humanity.  In his writing, Lay referenced the Bible, specifically Acts 17:26, which proclaims that all people are “made of one Blood.”  In his 1738 book, All Slave-Keepers That Keep the Innocents in Bondage, Apostates, Lay did not use the word “race,” instead he used the less divisive word “color.”  This reflected his experience with the motley crew of the eighteenth-century sailing ship.
After immigrating to Philadelphia in 1732, Lay continued his abolitionist activism. Religion and politics merged with philosophy in his life-long self-education. Learning Lay’s worldview is an education not only in Quaker antinomianism, but Greek asceticism, particularly that of the Cynic philosophers.  Most influential of the former was William Dell, a radical Chaplain in the New Model Army during the English Civil War.  In Philadelphia, Lay had dabbled in bookselling, and Dell’s works were one of Lay’s chief offerings.  In his books, which Lay highly praised, Dell advocated antinomianism – the notion that no authority is higher than that of one’s own “inner light” or inner voice.  Dell also encouraged civic education for the masses in order that they, rather than a socio-economic elite, would and could wield power.  These points would have been profoundly upsetting to the elites of seventeenth-century England. 
The library in Benjamin Lay’s cave also contained works of Greek philosophers, particularly those of the founder of Cynic thought, Diogenes, and his protegés Pythagoras, Crates, and Lucian.  Rediker provides a thumbnail sketch of this worldview by defining a handful of crucial practices.  These included parrhesia, the practice of speaking one’s mind regardless of how it will impact those in power.  Autarkeia meant self-sufficiency without the baubles of material gain; askesis and karteria meant training in self-discipline and endurance, both mental and physical; and finally tuphos, where one severely challenged the notions of luxury, prestige, and wealth, considering them flaws in human character to be overcome.  All of this, from antinomianism to Cynic philosophy was built on a commitment to treat others with love, which was to be given to all.
Predictably, Marcus Rediker delved deep into the Quaker archives in both England and the U.S.  He also made himself familiar with the historical literature on Quakers from this period, much of which was old ground for him.  The book is written for the general public, but is erudite enough to appease the specialist.  I personally loved both the book and getting to know Benjamin Lay three hundred years after his righteous fight for justice shook the Quaker world and, as Rediker argues, kick-started a Quaker abolitionist movement that, in turn, was the foundation of nineteenth-century abolitionism.  During his lifetime, the Quaker dwarf was a giant in his way.  His antinomianism, Cynic philosophy, and raw courage will be inspiring to those pursuing egalitarian justice today.