Armies of God:
Philip Jenkins
Pennsylvania State University
1996
ÒJohn Brown is received of
God, though outlawed by those whose very government is itself a piracy against
GodÕs governmentÓ
John Brown belonged to a political
subculture so outraged by the existence of slavery that it had come close to
denying the legitimacy of the American state apparatus, and to arguing that
armed resistance was not only justified, but obligatory. The full implications
of these views are perhaps not obvious because of the subsequent consecration
of his cause, and the national rejection of slavery. In this case at least, the
end appears to have justified the means. However, similar approaches have been
employed by many subsequent movements which likewise argued for the right and
duty to take up arms against the American state, actions which have however
been classified as terrorism rather than part of any freedom struggle or
protest. This paper will examine the history of such movements that viewed the
American polity as so utterly corrupt and dangerous as to demand resistance,
active or passive. The paper will concentrate on the Right-wing tradition that
stretches fro the anti-semitic groups opposing the New Deal through the militant
anti-Communist movements of the 1960s to the militias and anti-government
extremists of the last two decades. It will also consider the strand of
activist militancy in the pro-life movement that has occasionally reflected in
violence and murder. Paradoxically, therefore, the true heirs of BrownÕs
thought may rather be found on the extreme and racist Right as much as on the
Left
******
John BrownÕs raid on HarperÕs Ferry
rapidly acquired a political significance far beyond the immediate circumstances
of the local conflict, and its elevation to legendary status has perhaps made
it difficult to understand the exact context in which the event should be
viewed . What exactly was the nature of the raid, and to what other events in
American or world history might it be compared? Should we consider HarperÕs
Ferry as a failed insurrection, an aborted putsch, or a guerrilla operation? In
each case, the terminology inevitably carries its weight of association,
heavily laden with value-judgments: in modern thought, ÒguerrillaÒ has
implications quite as favorable as those of ÒputschÓ are undesirable. The
question of context has been especially significant for those modern movements
that have sought to annex the memory of John Brown for their own hagiography.
Of what, if anything, was he a precursor?
To understand this issue, we might
consider another armed operation from our own times, which superficially at
least has quite close resemblances to the Brown episode. In July 1984, roughly
a dozen well-armed men wearing paramilitary uniforms robbed a BrinkÕs truck at
Ukiah in Northern California, stealing nearly four million dollars in order to
provide a war-chest for a
guerrilla campaign which they were then planning, and which they at
least commenced before they were halted by federal law enforcement . The group
in question was The Order, a White Supremacist movement of strong Nazi
sympathies, which was directly inspired by the pro-Hitler manifesto, the Turner
Diaries. The Order was led by Robert Jay Matthews, who has been aptly described
as one of the most successful terrorists in American history, at least until
his death at the hands of federal law enforcement in late 1984.
Though MatthewsÕ aims were diametrically
opposed to those of Brown and his companions, the similarities between the two
events were quite strong, however resentfully a comparison would be viewed by
the participants in either case. In both instances, a dissident political
movement spawned extremists thoroughly dissatisfied with what they viewed as the
excessive moderation of the mainstream, and resolved to advance the cause
by paramilitary action. In both
cases, activists undertook a raid in order to secure the supplies essential to
extend and prosecute a war which, they hoped, would culminate in the
destruction of the social and political regime they viewed as wholly corrupt.
And both Brown and Matthews hoped that the specific action would help detonate
an apocalyptic racial confrontation. Incidentally, a superficial resemblance
between the two acts, at HarperÕs Ferry or Ukiah, is reinforced by the heavily
Biblical language and symbolism employed by the modern Rightists: MatthewsÕ
raid was preceded by a prayerful reading of the 91st Psalm.
The problem here is one of definition.
Although the Ukiah attackers did not carry out any of the specific acts that we
normally think of as terrorist, the action unquestionably fitted into a broader
pattern which can only be so described, and the event is often included in
accounts of American terrorism. The HarperÕs Ferry event, of course, is not,
which is interesting, as this conflict was marked by far more bloodshed than
Ukiah, and it was Brown, not Matthews, who took hostages to further his goals.
It was also marked by tactics and ideology that had much in common with modern
terrorist movements
The question then arises: does HarperÕs
Ferry belong anywhere in the long American tradition of political terrorism?
Even posing the question might seem bizarre or even shocking, but the answer is
more complex than might initially appear to a generation long accustomed to
viewing terrorism as an outside phenomenon, something that originated elsewhere
(usually in the Middle East) and which threatened to Òcome to AmericaÓ. Or
such, at least, was the image before April 1995, and the clearest evidence yet
that terrorism could be very much a home-grown product.
In reality, John Brown can all too
readily be contextualized with numerous other armed extremists whose actions
have often been characterized as ÒterroristÓ, and the label can only plausibly
be removed from him if at the same time we challenge the justice of the
appellation for those other notorious counterparts . And strikingly, the great
majority of these later activists belong to the political Right or (more
commonly) the ultra-Right. What makes John Brown unusual in this company is
that the ideological trappings of his movement belonged to the Left, or at
least are normally characterized thus. However, a comparison with other groups suggests the shallowness of
that Left-Right division in the American context, and points instead to the
long continuity of other sources of ideological commitment and division, to the
politics of conspiracy theory, and above all to apocalyptic religion. The
difference between Brown and Robert Matthews is literally black and white, in
that one fought for human equality while the other struggled to suppress the
very concept. In tactics and methods, however, the two had much in common.
Brown, it appears, is
not viewed as a terrorist leader because his cause soon triumphed, and he was
recognized as a hero and revolutionary martyr, an apotheosis which is the dream
of every practitioner of revolutionary violence over the last century: to quote
Fidel Castro, history will absolve them. In this isolated case, it has done so,
and abundantly.
Contrary to a widespread impression, the
United States has a long experience of acts that have popularly been described
as ÒterroristÓ, in the sense of gun or bomb attacks by paramilitary groups against
political or civilian targets, and robberies or arms thefts to sustain such
campaigns. At the turn of the century, such actions were often associated with
labor violence, and thus had a left-wing character. Prior to Oklahoma City, the
bloodiest political bombing in US
history was the Wall Street attack of 1920, commonly attributed to anarchists.
Puerto Rican nationalists and anti-Castro Cubans have both maintained lengthy
campaigns over the last three or four decades, as have Croat nationalists and domestic
political extremists of both Left and Right; and of course, there have been the
notorious instances of violence directed by Middle Eastern activists. Most
recently, violence of this kind has derived from extreme environmental and
animal rights groups.
The first and perhaps most difficult
question is to decide exactly in what sense these actions constituted
ÒterrorismÓ? The media tend to work on the basis of Òwe know it when we see
itÓ, and in cases like Oklahoma City bombing, identification of the act as ÒterrorismÓ seems obvious.
However, that the word is pejorative rather than objective is indicated by the
fact that virtually no so-called ÒterroristÓ group acknowledges that title, and
prefers some other terminology.
The clichŽ justly holds that Òone manÕs terrorist is another manÕs
freedom fighterÓ. Put another way, ÒI am a soldier; you are a guerrilla; he is
a terroristÓ.
In contrast to other countries, the
United States has no legal definition of terrorism, so that no prisoner has
ever been accused or tried on the simple offense of ÒterrorismÓ. Laws
ostensibly designed to combat the behavior have generally focused on certain
specific actions, such as bomb-making, arms offenses and hostage taking. Only
with the very recent Anti-Terrorism Act has a classification of terrorism
formally been introduced into US law.
The standard FBI definition presents
terrorism as Òthe unlawful use of force or violence against persons or property
to intimidate or coerce a government, the civilian population, or any segment
thereof, in furtherance of political or social goalsÓ. The problems here are
manifold, for example in setting all governments on a moral par, so that an act
of resistance against the most savage dictatorship is treated as
indistinguishable from that against a liberal democracy, while ÒunlawfulÓ could
in practice mean an act contrary to any statutes, however repressive. The
definition makes no allowance for justified resistance, and in fact uses
terrorism as a blanket term for any act of political violence which the US
government happens to stigmatize. During the 1980s, the imposition of sanctions
against ÒterroristsÓ of various kinds led to years of intense controversy among academics and policy
specialists about whether this label could properly be applied to those engaged
in a paramilitary struggle against an oppressive regime. The two cases most
frequently mentioned were the I.R.A. and the South African A.N.C., both of whom
had substantial bodies of sympathy in North America.
The focus of the definition has
subsequently shifted from the armed nature of the violence to its
indiscriminate character, and the US government now tends to accept the State
Department view, which defines terrorism quite simply as premeditated,
politically motivated violence directed against noncombatant targets. Even this
delineation is flexible, and on other occasions, the definition is expanded to
include factors like the following: the acts must be clandestine or surreptitious in nature; they are random in
their choice of victims; they are intended to create an overwhelming sense of
fear; and they should be undertaken by a non-state or sub-national group. Other
violent actions that do not fall within these categories might be variously
classified, as acts of war or resistance, of partisan or guerrilla conflict, of
subversion or sabotage. It should incidentally be noted that nothing in this
package of criteria implies anything about the ethnicity, national origins or
ideological background of the terrorist: the stereotype of the armed Middle
Eastern fanatic active in bombing or hijacking is very much a media creation of
the 1970s.
John Brown could not conceivably have
been termed a terrorist by his
contemporaries, as the term in nineteenth century usage generally referred to
actions committed by a government against its people, on the model of the
Revolutionary Terror in the France of the 1790s, and it was still used in this
sense by the Russian Bolsheviks of the 1920s. Moreover, his goal was that of
the guerrilla or partisan commander rather than the terrorist, as he sought a
general rising rather than the series of pinpricks that so often denote a
terrorist war, the Òwar of the fleaÓ. Was he not Commander in Chief of the Provisional Army created by the
Chatham Convention? However, this
distinction is interesting in itself. Modern terrorists rarely choose the
methods they employ for reasons other than necessity, and like Brown or Robert
Matthews, would much prefer to wage a large scale guerrilla or even
conventional war. Most movements view terrorist actions as a regrettably
essential first phase in which dissidents can gain strength and resources, and
carry out armed propaganda among the populace, preparatory to the wider rising.
The main force in Irish terrorism in the last quarter century has been the
Provisional Army Council of the Irish Republican Army.
Terrorism is thus a detonator rather than
an end in itself. It was a century after BrownÕs time that his specific
strategy acquired a name, when Latin American leftist guerrilla movements of
the 1960s evolved the theory of liberating specific rural areas, focos, from
which subsequent operations could be undertaken. The transference of foco
theory to urban areas and the evolution of the Òurban guerrillaÓ idea by Carlos
Marighela and others was pivotal to the development of modern terrorism, and
was later employed by armed movements as far afield as Italy, Argentina, Ulster
and South Africa.
Marighela was a key influence on the book
Turner Diaries by ÒAndrew
MacDonaldÓ, properly William L. Pierce, who offers in novelistic form a manual
for the armed overthrow of the United States by revolutionary action: the text
that so inspired Robert Matthews, as well as the accused Oklahoma City bombers.
In Turner, a series of sporadic terrorist incidents of extraordinary violence
and ruthlessness destabilizes the System to such an extent that the rebels of
the fictional ÒOrderÓ begin to secure liberated zones. This process culminates
with an attack by hundreds of guerrillas that secures control of much of
southern California. A nuclear civil war ensues, in which a majority of the
American population dies. Following the victory of the Order, remaining Jews
and non-Whites are exterminated, first on American soil and then on a global
scale, and by 1999 the dream of a White world becomes a reality. Once again,
terrorism is not an end in itself but a vital stage on the road to conventional
warfare, and apocalyptic triumph.
The evolution from terrorism to open
armed struggle can be observed in the brilliant 1965 film The Battle of
Algiers, which has the curious distinction of being one of the items most used
in the training and inspiration of terrorist and anti-terrorist forces. Based
on real events in Algeria in 1957, the film shows how urban terrorist actions
achieve little in the way of direct military success and indeed cause the
obliteration of the activists themselves, but failure itself proves sacrificial
and ultimately positive: the people are galvanized, and erupt in a general
popular insurrection which evicts the French oppressors and secures the birth
of the Algerian nation. The closing scenes of national revolutionary
regeneration have proved immensely inspiring to terrorists and revolutionaries
worldwide over the past three decades.
In the American context, both Marighela
and the Battle of Algiers were foundation texts for the Weather Underground,
the extremely active urban guerrilla band founded in the late 1960s. In the
mid-1970s, however, the Weather movement adopted rhetoric and slogans designed
to show continuity with American radical traditions, and especially interracial
solidarity. A key theoretical tract was the Prairie Fire statement; while their
main journal (founded in 1975) chose the interesting name of Osawatomie .
The term ÒterroristÓ must admittedly be
employed retroactively, but even so, the Brown raid has much in common with
modern acts of revolutionary violence, especially in the taking prisoner of
noncombatant town residents and landowners. In BrownÕs eyes, they were
presumably prisoners of war whose inconvenience was a small price to pay in
order to secure the wider goal of promoting a slave rising. However, such
justifications have regularly been employed by modern hostage-takers, for whom
the chief interest lies not in the holding of any specific individual but
rather the wider social and political goals which are advanced by such an
action. With recent experiences in mind, it is ironic to read the encomia of
earlier historians about the tender humanity with which Brown treated his
hostages, even in the thick of battle.
Moreover, it is uncertain exactly how Brown viewed the
operation of his mountain bastion, his foco, in the massively unlikely event
that it had been secured. Obviously he saw it as more than a merely
defensive slave refuge, as he
dreamed of future operations that
would lead partisans against the plantations and towns of the slave society. In
this scenario, violence against civilians would be inevitable, and would likely
have proceeded on the savage model of mutual reprisals already established in
the earlier battles in Kansas. Could Brown or his intimates have viewed any
member of a slaveholding family as truly innocent? Certainly BrownÕs friend
Gerrit Smith envisaged the likely rising as involving the mass rape of southern
white women, and Brown himself was giving thought to what might be done to
prevent a repeat of the horrors of the earlier slave rising in Santo Domingo.
As Thaddeus Stevens wrote, ÒI know what anarchy is. I know what civil war is. I
can imagine the scenes of blood through which a rebellious slave population
must march to their rights. They are dreadfulÓ. Yet as for Brown, Stevens still
believed that violence was justified, whether it meant the killing of a
slave-catcher or open insurrection.
The question of Ònon-combatantsÓ is a
sensitive one. The phrase normally refers to individuals other than soldiers in
uniform, though international law and military practice extends some kind of
combatant status to those who materially support the war effort of a particular
state or force, including political leaders and civilian workers in essential
communications or manufactures. But the line is often hard to draw. When 240 US
Marines were killed by a bomb attack in Beirut, this was conventionally
described in the American media as a colossal act of terrorism. US military and
diplomatic sources differed sharply on the applicability of this label, some
arguing that the victims were serving soldiers with access to weapons, and they
had recently been in armed combat with members of the factions which dispatched
the truck-bomb. However, the ÒofficialÓ position subsequently decided that the
act was in fact terrorism, on the grounds that the Marines were non-combatants
as their purpose in Beirut was peace-keeping rather than warfare strictly
defined. They were moreover killed by an act of clandestine violence while
off-duty. The logic here is tenuous to say the least.
For present purposes, the issue is that
the criterion of violence against non-combatants often involves a sizable
element of subjective political judgment. In the guerrilla battles in Òbleeding
KansasÓ, it was extraordinarily difficult to determine who might legitimately
be accorded the status of non-combatants, and reprisals were regularly taken
against individuals and groups on the strength of their real or perceived
political loyalties, or their relationship to known fighters. Brown himself
used the term ÒexecutionÓ for such killings, which is of course the parlance
common to modern terrorists. As
with many modern political conflicts, a case could be made that given such
polarization, there were no innocent bystanders.
In summary, let us imagine a modern
incident in which a body of heavily armed anti-government protesters raid a
government arms depot, and take civilian hostages in the hope of securing a
getaway. Moreover, the goal in undertaking such an operation is clearly meant
to be the development of future armed operations against the government, and
violence against social or ethnic groups with which the protesters disagree
violently. Even if the hostages were subjected to no deliberate harm, there is
no question that both government and media would unhesitatingly describe such
actions as constituting terrorism, and meriting the wholehearted
implementation of the laws and
policies devised to combat this menace. While the group themselves might claim
to be acting as soldiers, partisans or guerrillas, such relatively neutral
terms would only be found in those sectarian organs which actively supported
their cause, and even then this language would be used with some restraint, for
fear of provoking official reprisals. If a modern John Brown had acted thus in
1996 rather than 1859, he would beyond doubt be characterized as a terrorist.
Legally, the ultimate fate of the
hypothetical modern Brown would differ only marginally from that of the
historical reality: the criminal charges in the case would be a federal rather
than a state matter, and the
chance of execution might be somewhat reduced (though the fate of the Oklahoma
City bombers remains open at the time of writing). Otherwise, he would face
charges quite as grave as what Brown faced, and both the laws invoked and the
precedents cited would derive from the American experience with terrorism. At
the very least, charges would include Ònon-politicalÓ acts including murder,
attempted robbery and arms offenses, but there would also be political elements
of the sort regularly invoked against modern armed groups like the Order,
Puerto Rican nationalists, and White Leftist militants like the Weather
Underground and the United Freedom Front, charges like seditious conspiracy and
RICO. With such abundant evidence of real and intended revolutionary violence,
the imaginary Brown case of the 1990s would be a federal prosecutorÕs dream.
And it would emphatically be a terrorism trial.
Where John Brown came closest to modern
revolutionary and terrorist ideologies was in his belief that armed
insurrection was not merely justified, but was a moral imperative. He
foreshadows modern radicals in his vision of the state mechanism as wholly
corrupted, and his concept of revolutionary violence as a necessary form of
self-defense.
In the decades after 1820, abolitionist
sentiment became so commonplace among Northern social elites as to constitute a
virtual orthodoxy. Most
abolitionists accepted that slavery was an unqualified evil and the governments
which tolerated it were utterly wrong to do so. What distinguished Brown and
other radicals was their more systematic analysis of the ultimately political
framework on which the slave system depended. The whole idea of holding or
transferring property in human beings relied on defending this notion through
the courts, just as the right to seize and return fugitives was inconceivable
without the cooperation of the acquiescence of the criminal justice system,
both federal and state. The conclusion was that slavery was ultimately upheld
by the constitutionally established authorities, and political events of the
1850s showed that the institution could not be changed without a thorough
transformation of those authorities, above all at federal level. If slavery was
an abomination, then so was the governmental mechanism which defended and
legitimized it.
From this point however, different
arguments were possible. One response was to withdraw from the workings of the
polluted regime, which might take the form of advocating the rupture of the
union, or else pursuing a personal ÒsecessionÓ from public life after the
pattern of Thoreau. Another course was passive resistance, to refuse to support
any law or authority engaged in enforcing the slave system. By the 1850s, this
type of reaction had become very common in the northern states, where whole
communities refused to obey actions taken under the federal Fugitive Slave law,
and when mobs prevented the implementation of legally proper measures against
escaped slaves. There were countless confrontations with slave-takers and
marshals through the decade. The riots and personal confrontations that erupted
from such ÒrescuesÓ had the effect of drawing into illegality some highly
respectable members of a given community,
The most extreme form of resistance to
perceived injustice was the revolutionary approach represented by Brown and
supporters like the ÒSixÓ, for whom effective armed resistance was not only
justifiable but essential. For Brown, moderate abolitionists practised Òmilk
and water principlesÓ: Òthese men are all talk. What is needed is action -
action!Ó. The revolutionary abolitionist approach deserves attention, as its
core beliefs had much in common with those of other revolutionary movements
through the history of the United States, and indeed of many other Western
nations. The central theme was that the government of the day was carrying out policies in direct violation of
some perceived higher value or goal, and (equally important) that these policies
constituted a direct threat to the lives, safety and property of a large
section of the population which it claimed to represent. These harmful policies
or acts were not simply the transient decisions of one party or administration,
but a pervasive evil which permeated the whole structure of government, and
perhaps of the wider society.
Crucially, this evil could not be removed
by the use of constitutional, legal or electoral means, so that resort must be
made to extra-legal behaviors. Though subversive actions might violate law and
conventional standards of conduct, they were justified on the grounds of some
value superior to codified or official law. Moreover, they were sanctioned and
even demanded on the grounds of self-defense. Like virtually every
revolutionary movement, radical abolitionists believed they were under assault
by the mechanisms of the state and its corrupt allies, and their illegal
actions merely constituted an appropriate defensive response.
Also following a common historical
pattern, abolitionists found that their acts of resistance or civil
disobedience excited repression, which in turn reinforced their belief in the
rightness of their cause, and their conviction of the necessity for
self-defense. As conflict and disaffection grew, radical interpretations of the
regime they opposed grew steadily more hostile and conspiratorial, so that even
relatively innocuous acts of the regime were framed as part of an overarching
conspiracy. Such a portrayal of the evils of the established order often
ventures into the language of the demonic and dualistic, even if the cause of
the dissidents is not explicitly religious. When however divine law is taken as
the cause at stake, as in the abolitionist movement, radical rhetoric generally takes on millenarian
overtones, of messianic and apocalyptic thought.
The thought-world of the radical
abolitionist has been described in David Brion DavisÕ classic account of the
theory of the ÒSlave Power ConspiracyÓ, an idea which he viewed as one
manifestation of the long history of the Òparanoid styleÓ in American thought.
In abolitionist thought, the Slave Power had controlled the United States for
decades before the outbreak of the Civil War, violating the wishes of the
overwhelming majority of citizens, who were also the real sources of the
nationÕs wealth. Slavemasters operated as a clandestine power controlling political and economic life
behind the scenes, and often using violence to the point of poisoning and
assassination against their enemies. Religious allusions were amply employed to
exemplify this sinister manipulation, inevitably so given the profound Biblical
element which pervaded the cultural life of Victorian America. Unlike the
South, the North would not Òfall down and worship the golden imageÓ of slavery,
the power of the Antichrist. For writers like Charles D. Drake and Theodore
Parker, the conflict was thus Òbetween truth and falsehood, between Heaven and
HellÓ, and ultimately between God and Satan. The southern slave system was an
ÒApocalyptic DragonÓ, Òpouring its vials of wrath upon the nationÓ. The Book of
Revelation was well ensconced in abolitionist thought years before the
composition of ÒJohn BrownÕs BodyÓ .
It was the South which had begun the
inevitable struggle, by Òlevying war against the institutions of their fathersÓ
(George Julian). To quote William Lloyd Garrison, ÒThe spirit of southern
slavery is a spirit of EXTERMINATION (sic) against all who dare represent it as
a dishonor to our country, rebellion against God, and treason against the
liberties of mankindÓ. In self-defense, Northerners and abolitionists turned to
their own models for liberation, from the Biblical David and Moses, Joshua and
Gideon, to the American examples of the Puritans, to Paul Revere and the
Minutemen (not, generally, to slaveholders like Washington and Jefferson).
The revolutionary thought of the
abolitionist era would find many echoes in subsequent radical and revolutionary
movements, from Marxists and anarchists through anti-semitic and anti-Communist
militants, and to the ultra-Rightists of the last two decades. All such
movements held with varying degrees of conviction or plausibility that the
government of the day represented not its electors and constituents but dark
forces pledged to a conspiracy against the good of the people. Like the Slave Power, the
clandestine elite was a parasitic monster sapping the social and economic
well-being of True Americans. For the Left, the state mechanism served the
capitalist class, founded upon the system of organized robbery known as
capitalism, and defended by For the Left, the state mechanism served the
capitalist class, founded upon the system of organized robbery known as
capitalism, and defended by the guns of state hirelings. For the Right, the
secret masters of the United States indeed included capitalists and plutocrats,
but these were only elements in a far larger conspiratorial structure in the
hands of the Zionist or Communist manipulators. As in BrownÕs day, resistance
against these foes was demanded by
the campaigns which they had initiated against the lives and liberties of
Americans, through policies such as the subversion of the middle class, the
penetration of godless and communist ideas through the education system, the
promotion of sexual immorality and thus the attack on the family. The influence
of these ideas is suggested by the emergence of populist paramilitary
organizations to resist the further progress of decay, groups such as the Ku
Klux Klan or the Òshirt Ò movements of the 1930s, the Minutemen of the 1960s or
the militia groups of the last decade. In each case, the language is that of
violence and extra-legal methodology, but the justification is always the same,
that ÓtheyÓ started it: revolutionary violence always presents itself as
defensive.
As David H. Bennett has shown, the same
themes unite the language of the Òparty of fearÓ across the decades, and
especially the similar ways in which dissidents construct the treacherous
monster which their government has become. Monster, or rather, Beast, a word explicitly
borrowed by many of the groups from the same apocalyptic mythology that so
enthralled the abolitionist generation. This religious vision is perhaps the
key distinction between the American extremist groups and the European
movements with which superficially they have so much in common. However much
they employ the rhetoric of European ideologies of Left or Right, American
revolutionary movements are commonly suffused with religious and especially
millenarian concepts and terminology, yet another area in which they echoed the
abolitionists . From a European perspective, John Brown seems like an
incomprehensible lunatic: from the American politico-religious tradition, he is
perilously close to the mainstream.
From recent years, for example,
remarkably detailed analyses of the nature of the Beast can be found from two
very different but both influential books. The first, The New World Order is
the work of Pat Robertson a critical political figure, who mounted a serious
Presidential bid in 1988. He has since become the inspiration of the ÒChristian
CoalitionÓ movement that has come to dominate Republican party politics in many
state. RobertsonÕs best-selling tract depicts recent world crises as signs of
the manipulation of sinister clandestine forces, international financiers
linked to ÒNew AgeÓ religion, and ultimately of secret societies like the Freemasons and the Bavarian Illuminati.
The goal and slogan of the secret Masters is the ÒNew World OrderÓ, a rationalist,
secular and anti-christian utopia that will in fact be the realm of the
Antichrist portrayed in the Book of Revelation. In RobertsonÕs view, a struggle
is inevitable between the Òpeople of faith and people of the
humanistic-occultic sphereÓ
Also from the Right, but from a very
different political shade, comes the Turner Diaries. For Pierce, the regime
encountered by the dissidents is American only in name, as the country is in
fact governed by the ZOG, the ÒZionist Occupation GovernmentÓ, and federal law
enforcement forces in particular are agents of the ZOG. The true center of
power in the United States is the Israeli Embassy, relaying edicts from
Jerusalem. The social order administered by the ZOG is collectively known as
Òthe SystemÓ, and its goal is the destruction of White society through
economic, moral and especially sexual subversion, and the veiled but violent
warfare waged by Black and minority criminals with the acquiescence of liberal
courts and police. A society where young White people are constantly encouraged
by the media to participate in Black and Jewish cultural habits and to engage
in sex across racial lines is, in PierceÕs view, a society doomed to extinction
through miscegenation.
Only the hardest of hardcore Nazis employ
the term Òthe ZOGÓ, but the other concepts have become commonplace on the
extreme Right: the enemy is the New World Order, the System, and very often
with its religious resonance, the Beast . For those who accept such a picture
of contemporary society, the struggle against the Beast has been in progress for
over a decade now, though so far the battles have been of the brushfire variety
that rarely gains media attention. Between 1983 and 1985, the real life Order
undertook its organized campaigns in several western states, before going down
to ruinous defeat at the hands of the federal law enforcement agencies they had
so totally underestimated. Most accounts of American terrorism tend to ignore
the violence over the next decade, suggesting a period of relative tranquility
until the catastrophe at Oklahoma City, but this would be deceptive. Frequent
arrests and trials have illuminated the activities of dozens of individuals
active in trading powerful weapons and plotting or actually undertaking attacks
against banks, government offices and especially IRS offices. Oklahoma City
differed from these precursors only in the scale of the devastation. A similar
world view permeates the thought of the militia movement, which contrary to
popular impression is arming and training not to launch a rebellion against the
government, but to resist the assaults of the Beast should that become
necessary.
It is disturbing to find so many of
BrownÕs counterparts located on an end of the political spectrum that is widely
regarded as not merely extreme, but abhorrently so. In fact, the term normally
employed for such groups is not even a conventional political label, but is
often a disparaging phrase like Òhate groupsÓ.
The Pro-Life Movement
Obviously, racist and white supremacist
movements lay no claim to the mantle of John Brown, but other contemporary
activists do. Perhaps the most controversial is the anti-abortion Òpro-lifeÓ
strand that has provided one of the most active contributions to the American
tradition of political dissidence, with a direct action wing that has enjoyed enormous
publicity. And it is the most militant groups who have most directly modeled
themselves on the historical tradition of radical abolitionism and civil rights
protest, often to the horror of African-American observers.
There is a broad spectrum of anti-abortion
organizations, the size of the group being inversely proportionate to its
militancy and support for direct action . At the moderate wing of the coalition
are groups like the National Conference of Catholic Bishops Committee for
Pro-Life Activities, or the National Right to Life Committee, while the
uncompromising Òaction factionÓ includes several groupuscules like Operation
Rescue, the Lambs of Christ, Missionaries to the Preborn, Army of God, and
Rescue America. The total
membership of the militant organizations should perhaps be measured in the
thousands nationwide. At the hard core of these groups are the authentic
extremists who have persuaded themselves of the moral rightness of engaging in
armed violence to prevent the ultimate evil of abortion, to favor the
Òjustifiable homicideÓ of abortion providers. The number of such acts in the
last fifteen years has been terrifying: since 1977, there have been an absolute
minimum of 140 bombings and arsons against abortion clinics with another seventy
known attempts: this does not include thousands of other acts of violence such
as clinic invasions and vandalism,
assault and battery, death threats, kidnappings, burglary and stalking. Since
1991, there have also been at least five murders and a further dozen attempts,
making the pro-life movement one of the most actively dangerous terrorist
strands in contemporary America. That it is not commonly so regarded reflects
the reliance of most writers on sources derived from the FBI, which has come
under heavy political pressure to avoid classifying these particular armed
militants as ÒterroristsÓ.
The core idea of the pro-life movement is
that abortion is an absolute evil, at whatever stage of pregnancy it occurs,
and some groups oppose contraceptive devices which achieve termination only
hours or days after conception. This approach is justified by the strictest
possible interpretation of the Biblical view of the sanctity of human life, for
the fetus at any stage is viewed not as a potential life, but as a real life
that already possesses a soul. The religious bases of this absolute view are
seen as superior to any form of worldly legality or political procedure.
The central analogy between the two
movements, abolitionist and pro-life, is that both believe the American state
permits behavior which is not only harmful and brutal, but which contradicts a
higher standard of law and morality. As such, following the natural law
tradition, this law can and should be resisted. To quote Aquinas, Ò . . . in
proportion to its justice a law has the force of law . . . Hence all humanly
enacted laws are in accord with reason to the extent that they flow from
natural law. And if a human law disagree in any particular with natural law, it
will not be a law but a corruption of lawÓ. Moreover, the actions of the state
are not merely permissive, but the defense of that evil practice implicates
many other state agencies, and perhaps condemns the whole social and political
order. By far the best-known statement of this doctrine in modern times derives
from Martin Luther KingÕs Letter from Birmingham Jail (1963), which cites
Aquinas to argue that Òa just law is a man-made code that squares with the
moral law or the law of God. An unjust law is a code that is out of harmony
with the moral lawÓ.
In the pro-life perspective, the state
which tolerates abortion has condemned itself as illegitimate, and perhaps as
deserving the judgment of God for its collective sins: an equation that was
also central to the rhetoric of the abolitionist movement. Both abolitionists
and pro-life supporters buttressed their views by an Old Testament perspective
of community righteousness, and a divine willingness to punish the sins of an
erring nation. This was epitomized in BrownÕs legendary remark about purging
the land with blood, a notion that is very close to the thought of radical
pro-lifers.
The Biblical tone of the movementÕs
rhetoric is clearly suggested by
an Army of God manual found in the possession of Shelley Shannon, a militant
involved in numerous armed attacks, including one attempted murder. The book
concluded ÒWe, the remnant of God-fearing men and women of the United States of
Amerika (sic) do officially declare war on the entire child-killing industry .
. . Our most Dread Sovereign Lord God requires that whosoever sheds manÕs
blood, by man shall his blood be shed. Not out of hatred of you, but out of
love for the persons you exterminate, we are forced to take arms against you .
. . .. Ó Randall Terry of Operation Rescue has followed the precedent set by
many nineteenth century radical and dissident groups in composing his own
version of the Declaration of Independence, which argues that governments exist
to defend the right to life. ÒGovernments and rulers that stray from their
divinely appointed purpose and tolerate or participate in the oppression a and
slaughter of its innocent people are held as barbaric and tyrannical, and
history happily records the day of their downfall and just recompense . . . it is the right and the duty of a
nationÕs citizens to act in a manner which seems to them will best secure
justice and safety for the oppressed and for future generationsÓ . For pro-life
extremists, as for abolitionists, the nation has become so corrupted that the
only moral options are secession or revolution.
In order to promote their views about the absolute evil of abortion, pro-lifers regularly compare their actions with those of other activists struggling against other historical abuses, such as slavery, segregation, and Nazi racism. This is ideologically valuable in that a large majority of the potential audience is likely to believe in the inherent wrongness of these precedents, and to praise as heroic freedom fighters those who resisted such evils: the underground railroad of the 1850s, the rescuers of European Jews in the 1940s, civil rights protesters in the 1960s. By aspiring to place themselves in this company, pro-life sympathizers stake a claim to a comparable status of heroic righteousness, and moreover to be struggling on behalf of oppressed minorities. The three historical eras mentioned illustrate the contemporary claim that a state and a legal system can err so severely as to justify a wholly immoral and perhaps homicidal practice.
The most extreme example of this comes in
the German Holocaust , but in the American context, the nearest analogy is felt
to be the condition of slavery in the 1850s, and specifically the Dred Scott
decision, in which the Supreme Court denied the human rights of a whole
category of people. In pro-life rhetoric, this is presented as directly
analogous to the Roe Vs. Wade decision of 1973, with the implication that
future generations will one day view Roe as a disastrous error on the lines of
Dred Scott . Analogies are often pursued still further, so that the resistance
against slave-takers in antebellum days is seen as comparable to ÒrescuingÓ
work and clinic blockades in recent years, as both activities violate formal
law in order to achieve a higher moral goal. Indeed, ÒrescueÓ was the term used
by contemporaries for this sort of anti-slavery direct action prior to 1861.
Randall Terry draws an extended parallel between the evils of abortion and
slavery, emphasizing the crucial difference between being Òanti-slaveryÓ (an
intellectual stance) and becoming an abolitionist, that is, one who risked life
and reputation to struggle against
the great evil of the times: for Terry, the modern counterpart of the true
abolitionist is the activist ÒrescuerÓ. In 1993, Operation RescueÕs Òboot campÓ
for recruits and potential rescuers included in its program Òa lecture by an
American history teacher on the connection between the anti-abortion movement
and abolitionismÓ.
Among the most extreme sections of the
pro-life movement, the shade of John Brown is invoked to justify the murder of
abortion providers. In 1993, for example, following the murder of Doctor David
Gunn in Pensacola, Florida, a lengthy defense of such conduct was drawn up by
Paul Hill. Hill would later earn notoriety when he killed two further individuals
at the same clinic the following year. Hill argues for the crucial Òdistinction
to be made is between what is just and what is legal. It is self-evident that a
government may declare an act legal that is actually unjust according to GodÕs
law. A slave owner prior to the Civil War may have abused his slave in a way
that was legal, but ultimately unjust. The present abortion laws legalize the
killing of unborn children, but they are unjust in God's eyes. Yet this
legalized killing was just about to be carried out when David Gunn's life was
taken.Ó The homicide was therefore
justified on the grounds of a higher, divine law. His 1993 petition argued for
Òthe justice of taking all godly action necessary to defend innocent human life
including the use of force. We proclaim that whatever force is legitimate to
defend the life of a born child is legitimate to defend the life of an unborn
child.Ó The murders committed by a
Hill or a Shelley Shannon were thus defensive in nature, and HillÕs splinter
faction takes the name ÒDefensive ActionÓ. Following the wave of murders in
1993 and 1994, Donald Treshman of Rescue America commented that ÒThere are
thirty million dead babies and only five people on the other side, so itÕs
really nothing to get all excited aboutÓ. Treshman is one of many radical
leaders who have urged that a civil war might be the only way of resolving the
abortion issue.
While violent acts have been the work of
a tiny minority within the pro-life movement, the reaction from the wider
community has been complex, and in many ways reminiscent of the abolitionist
response to the outrageous extremism of John BrownÕs raid. While Òpro-lifeÓ
condemnation for individual murders and bombings has been near-universal, the
words of caution have often been
diluted by remarks that go far towards accepting the extremist position.
For example, after the murders of abortion workers, a remarks commonly heard
was that while these crimes were blameworthy, they were no more so than the
countless killings which the doctors in question had performed within their
clinics, thus equating abortion with murder. Human Life Review argued that ÒThe
real abortion violence is inside clinics,Ó while a senior member of the
Pennsylvania Pro-Life Federation
said ÒWe strongly condemn the violence against the abortionist Dr. David
Gunn, just as we condemn the violence taking place within the abortion clinics
which destroys human livesÓ. Anti-abortion radicals canvass support among
moderate sympathizers by means of a ÒPrisoners for ChristÓ campaign,
circulating the names and circumstances of protesters serving time in jail,
often for serious criminal offenses: Paul HillÕs family is one of those
prominently listed.
This complex relationship between
mainstream and ÒextremistsÓ bears a close resemblance to the structure of the
nineteenth century abolitionist movement, which similarly commanded vast
support for its general stance, though the number of individuals prepared to
participate in illegal protests was considerably smaller, and the hard core
ready to take up arms, to proceed to
Kansas or West Virginia, was relatively tiny. At the same time, the
degree of public sympathy for extremism was a rather confused matter. In 1859,
while abolitionists usually recognized that Brown had engaged in dangerous and
perhaps suicidal adventurism, he was widely admired for having the courage to
stand up for the principles to which others gave mere lip service. Horace
Greeley wrote typically that Brown and his men Òdared and died for what they
felt to be right, though in a manner which seems to us fatally wrongÓ. Boston
Republican John A. Andrew asserted that ÒI only know that whether the
enterprise as one or the other, John Brown himself is rightÓ . BrownÕs execution transformed him into a hero and martyr, Louisa AlcottÕs
ÒSt John the JustÓ. Thoreau noted the executions of Christ and Brown as Òtwo
ends of a chain which is not without its linksÓ. Emerson believed that BrownÕs
hanging made Òthe gallows as glorious as the crossÓ. While few anti-abortion
supporters have drawn such explicitly Christological comparisons for Paul Hill,
he certainly has his admirers as a godly man with the courage of his
convictions. Modern pro-life extremists can take comfort from the example of
John Brown that they too will be vindicated by history, if not actually
canonized.
John Brown, Robert Jay Matthews, and Paul
Hill: three who believed that obedience to a political imperative far superior
to either the law or constitution gave them a moral right to engage in private
warfare, in armed violence to the point of taking life. Only the first of
these, however, has achieved heroic status in a broad consensus of public
opinion, or is likely to merit conferences dedicated to studying his
activities. The differences between Brown and the modern counterparts may
appear obvious, in that he was struggling for the cause of emancipation and
justice, while they represented the politics of bigotry and division. However,
much of this evaluation depends on a retroactive evaluation, a sense of BrownÕs
achievement that depends on an abundance of hindsight. While admitting his
vision and his achievement, it is also legitimate to question whether he might
not reasonably be placed in the historical company of other individuals whose
reputations are far less salubrious. Whether he would acknowledge his spiritual descendants is an open
question.