“Lincoln” – My Complaints, Part II

With “Lincoln” in the running for best film at the Oscars this weekend, I feel like I’m a grumpy, kill-joy, nit-picking, griping curmudgeon of an historian.  After all, I am devoting not one but two entire posts to my complaints about the film.

So let me repeat an earlier point:  it’s a great film.  Go see it.  See it twice.  I’m serious.

Then, read some good histories of the Civil War.  This will give you a more complete picture and a deeper understanding than Spielberg leaves you with.

This is where my grumpy, kill-joy, nit-picking, griping, curmudgeonliness is coming from:  Spielberg’s film, by itself, gives us a misreading of how abolition came about.  It misses the critical part of the story.

Consider this question:  who is the real hero of abolition in the United States?  Is it Abraham Lincoln?  Hmm.

Let us return to 1860.  In that year there were almost 22 million people living in the northern states that would soon make up the Union.  How many of those northerners were abolitionists?  The numbers are hard to determine with precision, but about 2% of the population belonged to or supported abolitionist societies.  It’s important to understand that one could be antislavery but not an abolitionist.  Many northerners did not like slavery, did not want it to spread to the West, and/or thought it was morally wrong. Many of these same northerners, however, worried that setting free 3 million blacks would create huge

William Lloyd Garrison did not get invited to many dinner parties.

social, economic and political problems for the nation.  They did not want to mess with the system.   So abolition was a very unpopular movement, even in the north.  That’s why William Lloyd Garrison was nearly lynched by a mob in Boston.  That, and the fact that he was obnoxious.

Abolitionists were trouble-makers.  And Lincoln was not among them.  Although he was actually well ahead of many white Americans in his views on race, equality and antislavery, he still had some issues to work out in 1860, as I explained in my previous post.

Now jump ahead to 1865.  Lincoln was firmly, sincerely and rather masterfully pushing through the 13th Amendment.  He was supported by almost all the important Republican politicians, many soldiers in the Union army, and a great deal of the American public.  Lincoln, and many white northerners had turned into abolitionists in less than five years.

It was a remarkable transformation.

How did Lincoln, and many northern whites like him, come around to this position?  Now this is a movie I’d like Spielberg to make, though I’m not sure what he would call it.  “Lincoln:  the Prequel?”  “The Good, the Bad and the Ugly Lincoln?”  “Lincoln and the Phantom Abolitionist Menace?”

Here’s the point:  Abraham Lincoln was led down this path by the unexpected and complicated events of the Civil War.  So, if you are looking for heroes who pushed Lincoln on the abolition issue, you can turn to African Americans.   And abolitionists.

Consider the role of blacks and Union policy in 1861.  At that time the Union was not fighting to eliminate slavery.  When slaves ran away and made their way into Union army camps, Union officers were instructed to return them to southern masters.  Free blacks who volunteered to fight were turned away and were not allowed in the Union army.  These were all official policies established, approved and enforced by Abraham Lincoln and his administration.

Blacks began violating those policies.  Newly freed blacks in South Carolina and Louisiana formed regiments on their own, anyway.  A black man, Robert Smalls, took it upon himself to steal a Confederate ship in the Charleston harbor and sail it out to the Union blockade.  A group of blacks in Kansas formed a regiment on their own and actually joined a skirmish against Confederates.

More importantly, slaves, who were considered property by both southerners and War Department policies, refused to behave like property and sit still.  They kept running away to Union camps when the armies got close enough.   In the summer of 1861, General Benjamin Butler saw the military logic of holding on to this property that kept landing in his lap.  If slaves were property, as the logic goes, and the rules of warfare allowed an army to keep property of the enemy as contraband when it fell into their hands (think guns, wagons, ammunition, horses, etc.), then slaves could be declared contraband when they made their way into the hands of the Union army.  The War Department eventually saw the military logic of this position, changed its policies, and declared that slaves who had worked for the Confederate army would be declared “contraband.” But the Union would not accept other slaves working for private landowners, the War Department (and Lincoln) declared, because it was not, after all, trying to eliminate slavery in the southern states.

As the fighting of 1861 continued on into 1862, the Union kept on losing key battles.  This helped the cause of abolition.  I love the irony here.  Every Union loss and every Confederate victory brought the nation closer to eliminating slavery.

How?  Black and white abolitionists kept making arguments that the Union could defeat the Confederacy by abolishing slavery.  Slaves made up 40% of the Confederate population, they argued, and provided the labor for most of the Conferedate economy.  Slaves made up one third of the workforce of the primary Confederate producer of armaments, the Tredegar Iron Works in Richmond.  More than half of the miners in southern iron, lead, and salt mines were slaves.  Why not encourage the elimination of slavery, since most northerners already thought it was wrong, and help the war effort at the same time? As Frederick Douglass declared, “To fight against slaveholders without fighting against slavery, is but a half-hearted business.”

And so Lincoln brought forth the Emancipation Proclamation in late 1862.

The abolitionists were right.  Emancipation greatly aided the Union war effort.  Consider this:  over the course of the war, 500,000 slaves ran away, the vast majority after the Union had changed its policies.  That’s 1 out of every 8 slaves.  Not only did this weaken the workforce for the Confederate military and economy, but 200,000 of those freedpeople joined the Union military system as unlisted laborers.

And then there were the black soldiers.  Lincoln and the War Department were reluctant to put guns in the hands of blacks, but blacks persisted in their desire to fight.  In early 1863, abolitionists pressured the governor of Massachusetts, John Andrews Albion, to form black regiments.  The governor, in turn, pressured Lincoln to allow him to present the Union army with two regiments of blacks.  Lincoln finally agreed.  There were more political battles over equal pay and allowing blacks to fight (the film “Glory” captures this well).  But in the end, 185,000 blacks fought for the Union army, the vast majority of whom were slaves who had run away.  Consider this number in light of the fact that Robert E. Lee typically had about 50,000 to 70,000 soldiers under his command when he fought in Virginia.

By 1864, most Union soldiers had come to realize that abolishing slavery would help them win the war. A great book detailing why soldiers fought in the Civil War, For Cause and Comrade, by James McPherson, demonstrates this effectively.  Lincoln had become firmly converted to the cause of abolition by 1864, as were many Republicans.  So the time was ripe, in early 1865, to pass the 13th Amendment.

This, then, is how the paradigm shift occurred:  a few whites first became convinced that abolition was necessary, just by the sheer morality of the issue.  But most whites first became convinced that abolition was necessary because it would help them win the war.

This is how human nature works.  It is hard to see and do what is right when it costs us something.  It is easier to see and do what is right when everyone else (and the cultural norms) uphold what is right.  It is easiest to see and do what is right when we also get some benefit in return.

My biggest complaint with Spielberg’s Lincoln is that it gives the impression that one great, pure man brought about “the greatest measure of the nineteenth century.”  The reality is that while most of the country followed Lincoln’s lead, Lincoln was following the lead of runaway slaves, free blacks and abolitionists.  And none of this would have come about but for the unpredictable and unanticipated events of the Civil War.

Let me be so arrogant as to suggest that Lincoln probably understood this.  Though rather unorthodox in his Christian beliefs, he did believe very deeply in providence.  He also believed that the ways of God were mysterious and hard to discern.  Lincoln did not believe that any individual or collection of individuals could overrule providence and by sheer will or masterful politics, compel events to conform to one’s expectations.  I give Lincoln credit for that. (An aside:  for a great discussion of Lincoln’s role in the theological debates over the Civil War, click here).

I also give Lincoln credit on another score.  Many people today think we are fully baked and incapable of transformation.  That’s probably true if we are unwilling to change.  But Lincoln was willing to change his views of abolition and racial equality.  It came first through his primary desire to save the Union and defeat the Confederacy.  But he was changing in the end, which is more than can be said for many others. That, it seems to me, is a more admirable quality than political astuteness.

It was a transformation that came about because of the actions of hundreds of thousands of African Americans whose names we will never know.

 

 

 

“Lincoln:” A great, flawed, film.

I finally saw the film Lincoln this week.  Since I am an American historian who actually teaches a class on the Civil War, my tardiness on this bit of film-going might qualify as a professional embarrassment or even a dereliction of duty.  However, I am here to vow that in the future I will try to become more responsible on such matters.

Thus, my analysis:  the film is significantly flawed and everyone should see it because it is excellent.

If that sounds a bit like I am from Kentucky, trying to support both sides of the war, so be it.

I’ll give you what I truly loved about the film now and save its flaws for my next post:

1) Daniel Day-Lewis is brilliant as Lincoln.  His Lincoln was the most compelling Lincoln I have seen, a folksy Midwesterner with a high-pitched voice whose hidden depths of calculation, intelligence and resolve led others to underestimate him, as was true of the real Lincoln.  Several times I consciously asked myself whether this Day-Lewis was the same grizzled oil man who sat in a saloon barking, “I drink your milkshake!” in There Will be Blood. I do need to confess, though, that I developed some affection for Day-Lewis’ Lincoln because his wry humor, gentleness and patience reminded me of my Unkenholz uncles from North Dakota.  (That is correct.  My mother’s maiden name is Unkenholz, so I have Unkenholz uncles.)

2) The material components of the film effectively transport one back to the world of 1865 Washington D.C.  The over-stuffed Victorian furnishings, the muddy roads, the telegraph wires nailed to posts hanging above the politicians in the war room, and so much more.  In one scene Seward wears a yellow silk Japanese robe, even though only a handful of people know he was an avid collector of Asian artifacts.  Nice touch.  The principal characters look remarkably like their historical counterparts:  Stanton, Seward, Gideon Wells, Mary Todd, Robert and Tab Lincoln.  For instance, check out this “Slate” article comparing the film characters to their real counterparts.  (They didn’t quite capture the stunning ugliness of Francis Preston Blair, Jr., though.  Maybe this was out of respect to

Daniel Day-Lewis or Abraham Lincoln? Only his hairdresser knows for sure.

Hal Holbrook.)  Steven Spielberg makes great use of Day-Lewis in profile, often in silhouette, where he looks strikingly like the Lincoln images we are all so deeply familiar with. (I should point out that the material elements are the easiest parts of a historical film to get correct.  Getting the beards and doorknobs right do not make a film historically accurate, as some people think, but they do make one feel historically embedded, which is something.)

3)  The film wonderfully captures the deal-making, logrolling, posturing, compromising, horse-trading politics that we get in our American democracy.  It is a bit over-dramatized, but that is what helps make it hit home.  A friend from church remarked that she realized from the film that politicians are politicians and that what we get in Washington today is not new.  Yup.

4) The film gives us a good dose of the human dilemma of how to fight for high ideals in the midst of a fallen world.  It seems that Spielberg ends up supporting a Machiavellian stance that one has to play dirty and corrupt in order to bring about noble accomplishments. I have a problem with that theologically and historically, but since my understanding accounts for the grace of God in human affairs, I don’t really expect Spielberg to get that.  What he does get is how difficult the dilemma can be.  I had tears in my eyes when Thaddeus Stevens found himself struggling to decide whether he should reign in his long-standing rhetoric of racial equality in the hopes that it would help the pragmatic goal of passing the amendment to end slavery.

5)  Finally, I do not wish to go on record as an avid supporter of tearing others apart, but I can’t help but admire the finely flung insults in this film.  Eloquence at least takes some of the malice out, if for no other reason that one is rather impressed by the cleverness of the thing.  Two cheers for the insulting political oratory in Lincoln, then.  I was reminded of that master of the English-language insult, William Shakespeare.  From King Lear, Act II, Scene 2:

“A knave; a rascal; an eater of broken meats; a
base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited,
hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a
lily-livered, action-taking knave, a whoreson,
glass-gazing, super-serviceable finical rogue;
one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a
bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but
the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar,
and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I
will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deniest
the least syllable of thy addition.”

You should see the film.  And read my next post as to why it is flawed.

“The Abolitionists” on PBS

If you are interested in abolition in the United States, PBS is running a series this month.  I’ve already missed the first episode, I’m afraid, but the second is Tuesday night at 9 p.m.

The series focuses on five important abolitionists in the U.S. — Frederick Douglass, Angelina Grimke, Harriet Beecher Stowe, William Lloyd Garrison and John Brown.  I’m not sure how PBS will handle the religious issues involved, though I would say all five were influenced, to greater or lesser extent, by evangelicalism, though I think I might only classify Grimke, Stowe and Brown as evangelicals.

For a nice analysis of how evangelicalism shaped Angelina Grimke, you might want to read what the historian Carol Berkin has to say about her at the Huffington Post.

Thanks also to John Fea who tipped me off to both of these sources.

 

 

Understanding Your Ethical Conviction that Slavery is Wrong

If you want to better understand how all of us came to hold the conviction that slavery is wrong, you might consider the following claim:

“The abolition of New World slavery depended on large measure on a major transformation in moral perception—on the emergence of writers, speakers, and reformers, beginning in the mid-eighteenth century, who were willing to condemn an institution that had been sanctioned for thousands of years and who also strove endlessly to make human society something more than an endless contest of greed and power.

David Brion Davis, Inhuman Bondage, p. 1.

 

That is quite a claim, when one thinks about it.  How often do unjust institutions get struck down, particularly if those institutions have existed for all of human history and could be found in every region of the world?

I am a historian, so I will give you an authoritative answer:  not often.

For many reasons, then, I think we would all benefit from greater understanding of this historical development.  And so, as a little post-game wrap up to my contest between James Bond and Samuel Sharpe, I’d like to recommend a book.  Like millions of others, you can entertain yourself by watching the new James Bond movie, which is fine, but you should also consider the riches of a historical work that deepens your understanding of the world and how it works.

The book, by David Brion Davis, is Inhuman Bondage:  The Rise and Fall of Slavery in the New World.  After a career of extensive and thoughtful study of slavery, Davis wrote this book to explain how slavery came to dominate the Americas and then how it was eventually abolished.  The story is complicated, but Davis condenses a mountain of historical scholarship into a quite readable form, which is one of the reasons that it won the Pulitzer Prize.

Part of the reason why I find this story compelling is because I believe that the hand of God was behind the abolition of slavery.  Davis does not mention the hand of God in the book.  I do not know what Davis’ religious convictions are and I am guessing that he would not agree with my claim that I can see God at work.  As a rule, academic historians do not try to determine if God is at work in history.  Academic historians do give careful consideration to the human forces that lead to historical change and Davis, who is an excellent historian, does that quite well.

I plan to discuss more of this later.  For now, I would think you might find it interesting to read this book with a couple of questions in mind:  was God at work in this movement?  And if so, how?

Oh, and if you are ever in Jamaica, ask your van driver to tell you about Samuel Sharpe.  I am sure that he or she would be very pleased to tell you about him.

An Ethical Conviction That You Hold, For Which You Should Be Thankful

You and I believe that slavery is wrong, but neither of us came to this conclusion on our own.  We did not reach this conviction by wrestling with complicated ethical, economic, political and theological issues.  We did not risk our lives to escape our own enslavement and we did not campaign tirelessly against powerful institutions to abolish an unjust system.  Neither of us have ever been confronted with the reality that we would lose a large proportion of our wealth, should our society decide that slavery were wrong.

Instead, we grew up in a culture where we did not see legalized slavery around us anywhere.  We were raised in a society that told us in thousands of ways, explicitly and implicitly, that freedom was good and this system was wrong.  We accepted this great truth without thinking about it.  It cost us nothing.

You and I have not contributed anything to the principle that slavery is wrong.  Oddly, though, we may still cast a smug eye on earlier generations.  We may consider ourselves to be morally superior to those from centuries ago who held slaves.  Or we might be bothered to discover that great Christians from earlier centuries held slaves, good people who loved God, like Jonathan Edwards and George Whitefield.  What was wrong with these people, we silently wonder?  Without thinking deeply, we assume that if we were born in 1703, we would understand that slavery was an evil and unjust system.  And we would be wrong about ourselves.

The conviction that slavery is wrong is a gift.  We did not pay for it, work for it, achieve it through intellectual effort, or earn it through our own righteousness.  And yet those of us who live in 2012 hold on to this conviction firmly, without quite realizing how it ended up here in our hands.

This is how grace works. This truth was given to us by God.

It happened somehow through the processes of history.  God worked through many different people who, seeing through a mirror dimly, struggled to come to terms with a truth that was not obvious to them.  Some of them then battled formidable economic, political and social powers, in order to eliminate an unjust system.  The results, quite frankly, are stunning.

In 1776 slaves could be found in every single colony and region in the Americas, from Canada to Chile (and each of the original 13 states).  An overwhelming majority of people in North America, Europe, South America, the Caribbean, Central America and Africa accepted slavery as a fact of life.  They might not have thought it a pleasant system, but they were convinced that this was how the world operated.  In fact, the acceptance of slavery had been the default mode for all of humanity, for slavery could be found in some form in all regions of the world throughout history.

And then, in a blink of an eye (by historical reckoning), slavery was abolished.  By 1886 it had been eliminated in the Americas.  By that time, the vast majority of people of the transatlantic world agreed it was an unjust system.  This way of thinking spread throughout the world.  For the first time in history, the acceptance of slavery was no longer the default mode of thinking.

You and I have inherited that conviction.  We should be thankful for this particular gift.  Thankful that many people came before us who worked and wrestled and died and argued and committed themselves to abolition.  And thankful to God who, in His mysterious manner, worked through these people in history, so that we might think this way, without even realizing that we think this way, or why we think this way.

Oh, and one more thing.  Let us also be thankful that, regardless of our thinking, we are not enslaved in this way and do not live in a society that enslaves others in this way.

 

James Bond vs. Samuel Sharpe: Authenticity.

I started this contest because the two times I visited Jamaica, our van drivers pointed out spots where James Bond films had been made, but none made any mention of Samuel Sharpe.  Tourists, obviously, are much more interested in James Bond than Sharpe.  So, my question has been which person should we be most interested in?

According to my unscientific and undemocratic and unsystematic process in which I make up the categories and analysis of this contest as I go along, Sharpe is currently beating Bond, 4 to 3.  Today is the last day of the contest.  So, the most James Bond can hope for is a tie, a prospect he never faces in his movies.

Are you nervous?  Are you sitting on the edge of your seat in anticipation, anxiety and excitement?  No?  Well, give me a break.  I’m a historian, not a film maker.  (See the previous post).

Anyway, today’s category is authenticity.

Hmm.

Well, Samuel Sharpe was a real person.  James Bond is not and has never been a real person.  In fact, not even one of the six James Bonds was real.

Samuel Sharpe wins the pennant!  Samuel Sharpe wins the pennant! Samuel Sharpe wins the pennant!

The name is Bond. James Bond, Bond, Bond, Bond, Bond, Bond.

Wait a minute.  There are further considerations.  Sometimes fictional characters help us to better see what is real and true even if they themselves are not real. The best literature and the best films do that.

And James Bond…does not do that very well.  If we go back to the posts in which James Bond lost out to Samuel Sharpe, we will find that the Bond films do not give us solid insights into redemption, violence, human nature, race, sex or God.  Yeah, James Bond is cool and the stories are fun, but let’s face it, Ian Fleming was no Shakespeare, even though he had that English thing going for him.  Samuel Sharpe, meanwhile, played a key role in the abolition of transatlantic slavery. For that reason, if nothing else, solid historical analysis of Samuel Sharpe gives us a lot more insight into what is real and true about this world we live in.

A real person. OK, a bust of a real person.

So, yeah, go crazy folks, Samuel Sharpe wins it all.

 

Final Score:

James Bond       3

Samuel Sharpe  5

 

Next:  the post-game wrap up.

 

James Bond vs. Samuel Sharpe: Missionaries and World Christianity

James Bond, missionaries, and world Christianity?

You may be thinking that I have a topic that really does not fit in my contest about which individual we should be more interested in.  You may be thinking that because I have written a book about missionaries and world Christianity, I am looking for a cheap way to turn the topic back to my interests. You may be thinking that I am playing a literary bait and switch here, using James Bond to hook your interest in something totally different.

You may be right.

But then, again, you may not be.

Granted, the nature of James Bond films compels me to shift the point a bit.  I can’t have a sensible contest based on the question of how world Christianity plays out in these thoroughly secular films.  There is, however, a closely related topic to world Christianity.  What happens when the Bond films cross cultural boundaries?  What does cross-cultural engagement look like?

Let’s just say, not great.  Bond films exude an aura of British superiority.  This ethnocentrism, apparently, was even stronger in the Ian Fleming books.  In fact, the whiff of British exceptionalism was so strong that some storylines had to be revised when the books were made into movies for American audiences.  I guess American audiences don’t like to be depicted as inferior.  Who knew?

It gets worse, however, when dealing with non-Anglos, particularly in the books and early films.  The villains are often nonwhites and they are often deformed.  Furthermore, nonwhites just don’t have the brains, the sensibility, the skills, or the enlightened rationality of the Brits (or the Americans, for the film versions).  In “Dr. No,” Bond enlists the help of a Jamaican assistant to investigate Dr. No’s hideout, but this black guy, like the other

The dragon: ha, ha, it’s just clever technology, folks.

Jamaicans, is deathly afraid of the rumors he has heard about a dragon that inhabits the island.  The “dragon” turns out to be a flame-throwing tractor with big teeth painted on the front.  The foolish, superstitious and cowardly Jamaican assistant gets killed in the ensuing battle, but the film viewers are not supposed to care because, like the villains, his life doesn’t seem to matter much.  (It should be noted that even though they are evil, none of Dr. No’s scientific assistants are black.  His hideout displays a level of intelligence that blacks do not seem capable of achieving.)

The Jamaican assistant’s fear of the “dragon” emerges from a common depiction of race and religion that comes straight from the 18thcentury Enlightenment thinker (and Brit) David Hume.  According to Hume, less rational people, particularly those who have not been blessed with civilization, believe in irrational religious beliefs that express themselves in superstitious behaviors.  Enlightened and rational people, on the other hand, build sophisticated, morally superior civilizations that progress beyond the ignorance of previous

Build your own “Dr. No” Lego dragon! Pretend you are intimidating inferior people!

ages.  “I am apt to suspect the Negroes, and in general all other species of men, to be naturally inferior to the whites,” Hume wrote in Essays, Moral and Political.  “No ingenious manufactures among them, no arts, no sciences.”  Most people easily spot the racism in Hume’s thinking.  However, his claims about religious faith, which masquerade as rational truth, still infect much of the western world today

Samuel Sharpe, who lived half a century after Hume’s death and more than a century before the first James Bond film, would seem to qualify as a superstitious and naturally inferior “species of men.”

But here is where world Christianity helps expose fallacies in Hume’s and Fleming’s brand of Enlightenment thinking.  Sharpe’s relationship with the missionaries brings out point.  The leaders of this 1831 Jamaican rebellion (as well as a similar rebellion eight years earlier in Demerara, on the north coast of South America) were deacons and evangelists.  Baptist, Methodist and Presbyterian missionaries from Britain had been ministering among the slaves for the previous decades.  Slaveowners, in fact, complained bitterly that the missionaries were spreading radical and subversive ideas about equality and abolition among the slaves.  (Hume, who believed that evangelical religion led to social disorder, political radicalism, emotional derangement and psychological delusion, would have agreed).

The missionaries, however, did not promote, plan or lead the rebellion.  In fact, they warned the slaves not to plan any resistance, they downplayed the possibility of emancipation getting passed in Parliament, and they did not even know of Sharpe’s rebellion until right before it occurred.

In other words, this movement took off without missionary leadership, in ways they did not expect and could not control.  That is usually what has happened when a movement of Christianity emerged and grew after it had crossed cultural boundaries.

There is also a theological point here about cultural blind spots.  Although they were generally favorable to antislavery ideas, British missionaries preached a simple evangelistic message and stayed away from topics of abolition.  The slaves who had converted to Christianity, however, saw implications in the gospel that white Christians were slow to recognize:  the Exodus story indicates that slavery is not God’s plan for the world.  The same held true for Christian slaves in the American South.  On Sunday mornings they might hear a white minister preach on the text, “slaves obey your masters,” but on Sunday nights, in the privacy of their separate worship, they heard slave preachers draw conclusions about freedom from the Gospel.  And they wrote and sang scores of spirituals with themes of being released from bondage in Egypt and entering in the Promised Land.

These slave spirituals could get emotional, a point that Hume would have looked on with distaste.  The slaves could not boast of “ingenious manufactures” or cool Bondian technology.  They did not display the marks of a “civilized” people.  But they understood truths unknown by rational philosophers like Hume and clever writers like Fleming.

That’s interesting.

 

Score:

James Bond      2

Samuel Sharpe  3

James Bond vs. Samuel Sharpe: The NPR Effect

Monday morning, October 1.  I’m listening to National Public Radio on the way to work and they introduce a weeklong series on James Bond.  Really.  I didn’t realize this, but this week happens to be the 50th anniversary of the release of the first Bond movie, “Dr. No.”  This film, as I mentioned in an earlier post, was filmed in Jamaica and provoked my original question about who we should be more interested in: James Bond or Samuel Sharpe.

Well, that did it.  I decided I just had to bring NPR into round three of our contest.  After all, my local public radio station advertises itself with the slogan, “NPR.  Classical.  Other Smart Stuff.”  NPR has a reputation of being a news station for thoughtful, highly educated folk who care about the world.  NPR goes beyond the facts and gives us insightful analysis.  That’s what they tell us during their pledge drives.

So how does NPR do in the contest?

I googled their website to determine how times they have referred to James Bond.  I turned up 1700 hits.  (Granted, it might be a much higher number by the end of the week).

Samuel Sharpe?  Not quite as many.

Zero hits.

I found this rather curious.  After all, NPR describes itself as smart.  Many people who listen to this station are concerned about justice and ridding the world of oppression.  If one wants to be smart and one wants to think about how to fight oppression, then it would seem to me that NPR would be a site that would be more concerned with the history of abolition than the history of a Hollywood action-movie series.  (Oh, rats.  I think I just tipped my hand.)

Right, (cough), um, what I mean is that if we take an unbiased approach to our contest, then James Bond and Samuel Sharpe have an equal chance at being significant.  And surely NPR would be a great source for determining whether, for instance, James Bond or Samuel Sharpe gives us a better model for determining how to rid the world of oppression.

James Bond. Classic cars. Other smart stuff (?)

All the same, I have to admit that I was surprised by the results.  So I tried a few of different terms in my NPR website search.  Baptist War: zero hits.  Slavery Abolition Act:  zero hits.  Jamaican Rebellion:  zero hits.

OK, time to broaden the search.   NPR surely has done stories that reference abolition, one of the most significant developments in human history.

And….yes!   There we are.  Abolition did indeed turn up as a topic on the NPR website.  Abolition:  653 hits. William Wilberforce (for good measure): 17 hits.

Huh.

Well, the results are clear.  If you like smart stuff and you take your cues from NPR, James Bond is obviously much more important for us to know about than the abolition of slavery (almost three times as much).

 

Score:

James Bond:       2

Samuel Sharpe:  1

 

Yeah.  Unless…..this depiction of “smart” radio is all wrong.

In that case, maybe it is proof of the opposite….and I should give the win to Sharpe?