What blurred the lines dividing “slave” and “free” status for Abina and for Juliana?
17 Replies to “Week 4: Gender, slavery, and colonial law”
The two women in the readings have very different backgrounds. Juliana’s experience takes place in the late eighteenth century in Benguela. In Benguela, there was a clear route to slavehood, one that Juliana did not conform to. In Juliana’s society, “a person without lineage was a slave, a person with one was free” (page 193). This made her slavery an anomaly since she had a clear family lineage. Abina’s story takes place in the late nineteenth century in West Africa. West Africa was a colony of the British who prided themselves on, supposedly, outlawing slavery. However, the British continued to exploit young women as a prominent, indentured workforce. The realities of these women’s lives contracted the contrived social values surrounding them. These differences caused the lines between “slave” and “free” to be very upsetting for these women.
To begin to understand this justified reaction to servitude, it is important to evaluate the beginning of their lives. They were both born as “free people” meaning that neither of them was born into slavery. Instead, they were both abruptly taken from their families and sold into slavery. This, justifiably, left both of them with an unwavering desire for the freedom they once had. Also, both women had support from individuals that were trying to grant them their freedom back. In Abina’s case, her lawyer, James Davis, took her case to court. Even though this was unheard of at the time, he risked his reputation and respect in the community to allow her voice to be heard. During Juliana’s fight for freedom, the governor of Angola, Francisco Inocêncio de Sousa Coutinho, advocated for her immediate release. These brave individuals stood up for what they knew was right and fought for these women that had been silenced by their masters.
There are a few differences between the women’s experiences. Juliana had members of her own tribe present ransom for her freedom. They offered other slaves in exchange, but they did not have enough to offer to trade for her freedom. Unlike Juliana, Abina’s peers betrayed her and belittled her attempts at proving her enslavement. Those brought into her trial claimed she was never sold or mistreated. Another difference between their experiences in slavery is Juliana’s initial promise of freedom once her master had died. Abina was never given such a promise; her slavery had no end in sight.
With all of these factors considered, it is obvious why both women were being torn apart by their enslavement. Being born into freedom and having it ripped away from you causes irreparable emotional scars. These women deserved to maintain the freedom they had been given earlier in their lives. In Abina’s society, slavery had been outlawed completely. Yet, the British government chose to allow slavery to continue by pretending it was simply another job or a mutual relationship. The concept of lineage in Juliana’s society suggested she should not have been enslaved, even though she was. These women’s lives were practically stolen from them the day they were sold into slavery.
“Mechanisms of Enslavement” really hammered in the notion that slavery (at least in the Angolan colony) was not as simple as one either being a slave or not being a slave, “inherently” or otherwise. This chapter showed that there were countless interventions that could change one’s status (curiously, mostly from free person to slave, rather than the other way around), meaning that slavery was not necessarily something that someone could only be born into, or even something that would only befall a certain class of people. For instance, if a wealthy man had an affair with a soba’s wife, his family might be enslaved. That hardly fits the narrative that most people might be used to, though that classical model seems to have been much more common. In Abina’s case, the political ramifications of punishing her master outweighed the importance of British justice for Judge Melton and his jury, all of whom feared the consequences of interfering with the affairs of “an important man.”
Though Juliana had technically been bought, she was not someone who was, for lack of a better word, meant to be “available” for enslavement. Thus, her master was more willing to negotiate the terms of her liberation, and when that fell through, she hung in a space between enslavement and liberty, where she had not yet been freed, but was not truly a slave. Abina, too, was not meant to be a slave; both because slavery was illegal in British colonies and because she was born in an area outside of the British Protectorate. Abina was a slave in a society where slavery was illegal, rendering her rather defenseless, as her experiences could be manipulated by semantics and tradition. Though her condition might have been one of enslavement, it couldn’t be proven that she was legally a slave, which, again, would have been difficult in a society that claimed it had outlawed slavery.
I found the fourth chapter of “An African Slaving Port and the Atlantic World” by Mariana P. Candido very interesting. The author’s description of Juliana’s story in the context of slavery in Angola shows how there was not a clear divide between slave and free populations. In the United States, slavery was not only a matter of class, but one of race. If someone had the appearance of being African, they were a slave. Conversely, if someone appeared to be European they were in no danger of becoming a slave. Slavery was very different in Angola. There were so many Africans there that not all of them were enslaved. This group of free Africans was not exactly free though. Candido writes, “Despite Juliana’s full status in her society, she ended up captured and sold as a slave, indicating that the institution of slavery itself had been affected by the trans-Atlantic slave trade and market demand,”. The author argues that increased economic demand for slaves around the world during the 18th century caused many Africans to be enslaved despite their lineage and family connections. Similarly, Abina should not have been in danger of becoming a slave. She lived in a society very similar to the reconstruction era of in the US. Though slavery had been abolished by the 13th Amendment, newly freed slaves were left with no place to live, no money and little to no belongings. This led to the institution of sharecropping, in which African Americans were given a place to live, food, and a percentage of the profits of their labor in exchange for servitude almost identical to what they were subjected to as slaves. Plantation owners would then charge African Americans for everything they had given them. This plunged the newly freed slaves into insurmountable debt, which forced them to remain in this slave like state. Abina story reveals that economic interest was much more important to Great Britain than their commitment to taking care of the African people in their colony. Davis’ superior reiterates this idea when Davis goes to him requesting that Abina be granted her freedom. “Moreover, men like Quamina Eddoo grow palm oil, and palm oil is taxed, and those taxes pay your salary and, in the long run, mine as well.” Economic interest leading to the enslavement of the “free” is a common theme thought these two stories. Despite governmental intervention, no African is safe when there is money to be made by powerful men.
In the 1876 court case of African woman Abina Mansah, the precarious balance of local political influences in the Gold Coast of West Africa and British law blurred the line between “slave” and “free” status. On manifold occasion, magistrate William Melton mentions this prominent inner conflict: his own success in his chosen career was determined by the stability of the Gold Coast colony and protectorate, which was subsequently in the hands of slave-owning men, some of whom sat on the jury. Due to the interplay of local custom and British law, what would otherwise be a clear decision is blurred into one dependent on a nuanced balance struck between outlawed slavery and irritable slave owners whose palm oil production generates the tax money that goes toward the salaries of Melton and Davis. Without the explicit evidence of the exchange of money nor gross violence, the deliberation of Abina’s case, and the subsequent divide between “slave” and “free,” becomes a subjective decision detached from Abina’s argument.
In the case of Juliana, the various means of enslavement – war, raids, kidnapping, punishment, etc.… – demonstrates a shift from Benguela’s hereditary definition of “slave” to the chaotic and arbitrary definition of “slave” that occurred in the early 1760s. While Juliana was fully integrated in her lineage and community, she was still at risk of enslavement through kidnapping or sale. Layered means of enslavement were a directed effort of Atlantic pressure for more slaves, generating violence and societal fracture. Anyone who seemed to dissent from traditional custom – by speaking a different language, practicing a different religion, belonging to a certain political affiliation, etc. – was at great risk for enslavement. Local political dynamics and broader demand from the trans-Atlantic slave trade, thus, blurred the fate of people born free, such as Juliana.
Slavery has never been a concept that has been accurately defined. When defining slavery, the definition has consistently defined around the exchange of money for a person, but in both cases, the issue around the blurring of lines revolves around culture and tradition. The law does not have provisions that truly protect differences within customs, which allows both the cases of Abina and Juliana to happen. Abina’s case was significantly blurred because there was no money exchanged between her husband and her new master. The laws should have protected Abina because slavery was illegal in Cape Coast in 1876, but when her master followed her to Cape Coast from the Gold Coast, she was at the mercy of the law, which was stacked against her. The wording of the trial, along with the jury of people who were not her peers, Abina’s status as a “free” woman, instead of a slave, was consequently misrepresented in court, allowing Magistrate Melton the ability to judge against her. While Abina’s necklace and its removal, along with the changing of her clothes signifies her transition from free to slave, but that is not recognized in the laws from the British that could never truly “civilize” the protectorate. In Juliana’s case, also shows the long-lasting use of slavery by the African population, who would not necessarily use slavery in terms of exchange of money. There are other innate cultural and traditional forms that result in what we define as slavery, but the people living there did not define it as such. The British protectorates had to function under the same rules, without the same protections for citizens like Juliana. The local situation adds a layer of confusion to the free vs. slave because the laws of culture are not always the same as the laws of the state.
Both Juliana and Abina were forced into a life of servitude, neither one deserving, even in context of their respective climate. While Juliana was born from a time in which family was the reason that many were spared a life of servitude. Abina was a slave during the time where money talks, and thus was the deciding factor concerning her status as a person. Whether their status was “slave” or “free” the reasoning behind these distinctions did differ. As Abina’s was one derived from wealth, and Juliana was one derived from family. Even though in the end, both fell prey to the big green monster: greed.
One of the prominent motivators throughout history is money. Undoubtedly, this is the primary cause behind a plethora of injustices committed throughout history. For Abina, this meant that the lines separating what made a person a “slave” or “free” within society was determined in lieu of the monetary implications of such. To clarify, Abina was not proclaimed to be a slave, as it would result in a great loss for the surrounding area. This was determined by a jury of people that could not begin to even sympathize with Abina on a humanitarian level, as they were all affluent members of society. While the law of the land specifically prohibited slaves, these so called “important men” were so filled with greed and lust for wealth, that they were willing to overlook a crime for personal gain. Thus, the guilty party that decided Abina’s status in society was a direct result of money. As money was the deciding factor between the affluent and the unfortunate. While those in positions of power could not begin to understand the humanitarian crisis in its entirety due to their limited knowledge of the topic, and inability to experience it for themselves; as they were able spared such a horrid life by something that holds no value in of itself, save for the value placed upon it by society: money.
In contrast to Abina’s woeful tale of misfortune, Juliana didn’t fare much better, but the difference was in the sequence of events that resulted in a life of slavery for Juliana. While Juliana’s story at first glance bore resemblance to one with a happy ending, it was merely gilded in gold. For context, those with lineage, as was Juliana, were spared the fate of immoral servitude. Alas, this was during the time of the Trans-Atlantic slave trade expansion, and thus a case could be made for the factor determining the status of “slave” or “free” to also be money (as was in Abina’s story); however, the fate of Juliana’s never would have been in such a predicament had the deciding factor not be one of lineage. While it was true that she did have a family that did want her back home, they were unable to afford the ransom, especially after a raid. Therefore, Juliana was unable to escape the life pf servitude she now found herself in. With the only way out being either her master’s death or the unlikely event that her family could afford the ransom. While the end of her story is unknown, it is plausible that she lived out the remainder of her master’s life in servitude and ended up serving another after he had died. As now the time for lineage to determine the status in society was over and money ruled supreme.
Abina and Juliana were women who existed in colonial Africa within the unclear and ill-defined definitions of slavery, and the pieces by Getz and Candido, respectively, outline how this ambiguity severely damaged the notion of freedom.
In Abina’s story, we can see how the deletion between enslavement and freedom is arbitrary. If there was no exchange of money, it was not slavery. If the subject was treated with dignity or respect, it was not slavery. If the subject was never beaten or tortured, it was not slavery. If the subject was the wife of the master, it was not slavery. These guidelines overlooked the true markers of slavery– most namely, the treatment of people as property– and instead left it to qualifications that could easily be lied about by these “important men” in a system that sought to protect them for the sake of the colony and the Crown.
For Juliana, her story begins with the risk-factor of slavery, and how she “should have” been spared due to her solidified lineage and position in her community. However, the trans-Atlantic slave trade seriously changed the tide of buying and selling in Africa, and due to this new demand, these lines were blurred, and Juliana was taken. Inter and intra-continental trade led to the taking of Juliana, as an increasingly war-torn Africa used kidnapping, village pillaging, and warmongering to capture slaves. Juliana more than likely was never released from her captor, either due to her family’s inability to pay ransom or that her name and identity eventually became lost.
These blurred lines separating slave and free were defined by arbitrary qualifications that protected the slave master and other “important men” and enabled them to keep their slaves and way of life, regardless of the legality or morality.
There were never lines to blur between “free” and “slave.” In the cases of Abina and Juliana, both were victims of an environment with ubiquitous violence perpetuated by the trans-continental slave trade. The foreign demand for slaved labor in Africa permeated through the coasts and inland; which blurred the lines between free and slaved. Regardless of how Abina and Juliana were enslaved, both women lived in an environment that didn’t really delineate between free and slaved. So many raids and judicial corruption did not guarantee their freedom. Both women had family or friends fight for their freedom, however, the long duration of the cases in court lasted too long for anything to come out of it. Family line did not help either, because the thirst for gunpowder and wealth was too great to prevent the raiders and kidnappers from differentiating their victims.
The slave trade displaced so many people that modern people tend to think of only the statistics. We forget to actually think of the individuals and their stories, and this is why it is important to read about Abina and Juliana’s cases. Their individual cases about their enslavement not only show how long the slave trade has been going on, but also the extents of the trade.
“Mechanisms of Enslavement” explicitly states the answer to this question: “ . . . as a result of the expansion of the trans-Atlantic slave trade, the clear line dividing free people from slaves became blurred” (Candido, 192). Though Julianna was technically “free,” she was inherently vulnerable to enslavement: at a moment’s notice, it was possible for her to be “forced to walk to the fortress of Caconda,” and “sold to the captain major” (Candido, 191). There was no clear explanation for this. Julianna was not a prisoner of war, nor had she committed a crime that warranted enslavement as a punishment. She was merely noticed, it seems, and then transformed into a slave. This appears to be entirely arbitrary. It did not matter that she “seemed to be fully integrated in her lineage,” either: if the opposite had been true, there would at least be some explanation, however dubious, for her enslavement. Her kin undoubtedly accepted and supported her: they went so far as to seek her out after she was enslaved. Indeed, Julianna was not isolated from her community, nor was she any different than free individuals within her society. What made her a slave, then, was the demand of the trans-Atlantic market, which came to dominate the interests of all parties in her region. To keep up with market demand, even those who were not “meant” to be slaves were forced to do the work of slaves. While they may not necessarily have been given the concrete moniker, they certainly lived in a condition of slavery.
This is certainly true in Abina’s case. She was undoubtedly enslaved: she was held against her will by a master-like figure. This man forced her to do household chores and to marry a man that he believed was best for her. She had no agency: she was not an individual, but a household hand whose only purpose was to serve. Workers like Abina were “needed” in the late 19th century: the demand from the trans-Atlantic market made laborers, whether within the household or in the field, an absolute necessity for those who wanted to take part in the supposed “modernization” efforts being embarked upon as the British took control of the Gold Coast. Slavery itself, however, was technically outlawed: “modernization” efforts saw slavery as a moral outrage and abolitionism as the progressive path toward a brighter future. Yet no one on the Gold Coast wanted to disrupt the flow of modernization, which, while attempting to tout morality as one of its core tenants, fundamentally supported the use of slavery to achieve economic modernization. Thus, Julianna and Abina were caught in a void of confusion: their status was theoretically and legally protected, respectively, but the law remained entirely unenforced in the name of prosperity and a false sense of continuity.
Abina and Juliana’s experiences with slavery understandably differed, given their differences in the context of time, location, and culture. Still, the common defining factor for the two was the inability to define a clear-cut line between slavery and freedom; it was this blurred factor that ultimately led to the enslavement of both.
In Abina’s case, although she was technically enslaved, under many of the legal standards of the time, she was considered in court merely as an “apprentice” of sorts. The actual state of servitude—being forced into labor, working unpaid, having no semblance of free will or control over your life—were not considered under the law. Rather, clarifiers such as the physical transfer of money, the actual use of the word “slave”, and excessive corporal punishment were all the loosely defining characteristics of enslavement. Hence, Abina’s argument that she had no control over her life (or none that she felt she could claim without punishment) held no weight in court. In her case, too, the judge’s limited knowledge of the customs of the region and culture played into the verdict. Here, the very acts that could symbolize enslavement for Abina—tearing her beaded necklace, the presentation of cloth as a mark of being sold as a wife, the mere threat of flogging—were twisted into simple “cultural norms” by the jury that could not be “translated” or deciphered into slavery. Abina’s own definition of slavery against freedom, her ability to control her own life, had no merit in the eyes of an all-male jury who already believed that a wife’s role should not be one of control but one of servitude.
In Juliana’s case, the cultural and regional practices of the time were slightly different. While slavery was not outlawed, it was supposedly restricted to those who had no family, no immediately traceable background: “A person without lineage was a slave. A person with one was free.” Still, the distinction between an “originally free” person and those destined for slavery was hardly observed during raids and wars where Africans—primarily women and children—were rounded up indiscriminately for enslavement. Such was Juliana’s case. Though she belonged to a lineage with strong connections and support, her own vulnerability as a young woman led to her own capture and brief enslavement. Cases like Juliana’s were far from isolated: oftentimes, only the distinction of being Catholic or Christian could save a person from enslavement, as even members of royal families were captured in times of chaos. Hence, gender, age, and religion were the predominant factors in blurring the lines between slavery and freedom for Juliana and other slaves of West Africa, rather than the often-argued distinctions of social class.
Very early on in the chapter, Candido illustrates that the lines between being free and being a slave were muddled and that slavery was a complicated and messy system. Candido states that the fact that Juliana was taken from freedom to slavery and back to freedom by ransom reveals that the idea of “freedom” in the region was messy and that even those that were “free” were vulnerable. Candido continues, “The legal pluralism that existed in West Central Africa facilitated the appropriation of legal rights by African subjects,” which further suggests that the idea of freedom for those in the region was at odds with multiple competing legal systems.
In Abina’s story, we can see how the difference between enslavement and freedom is arbitrary. This, I believe is particularly due to the time period in which these events took place: a time whereby the trans-atlantic slave trade (TAST) was just recently abolished but paradoxically, slavery within the continent was still rife and ever-increasing. The ambiguity of this paradox is what seems to have caused this arbitrary definition of slave for the people in Abina’s story. Since ‘slave’ as defined by the TAST has different connotation from what a slave looked like on the continent independent of TAST.
Similarly, early in the chapter, Candido tries to make it apparent that the lines between being free and being a slave were blurred and that slavery was a complex and not-easily-decipherable system. According to Candido, the fact that Juliana was taken from freedom, to slavery and back to freedom reveals that the idea of “freedom” in the region illustrates that this was a phenomenon that was not clear-cut in the way it was to be defined, and that even those that were “free” were still vulnerable and may always live their lives in fear of being stripped from that freedom.
The arrival of the Portuguese in Benguela automatically brought a violent environment and economic insecurity. This section explored the vulnerability of the free blacks and their unwarranted captures. In doing this, Candido is able to make an indistinct difference when it comes to the definition of what it meant to be a “slave” and what it meant to be “free” during this time. Though Juliana was a free black, she was unable to use the “legal code” to justify her freedom and was enslaved. Through this, we can see how manipulative this society in Benguela was towards people of color. Though there was this idea of “freedom,” there was nothing in this society that could allow this to be true for most blacks. Juliana was equally as “free” as those in her society, however, due to the rising demand in the slave trade, she was forced into enslavement. Abina, on the other hand, was not aware of the surroundings in her life. She was seen as a “slave” and only that in her time. When she looks to escape and to find a job, she is forced into unpaid labor, although slavery was not legal in Cape Cod at this time. By this, we can see how faint this line between being “free” and being “enslaved” is and how little power these people have in determining their own lives.
Although the context of Abina and Juliana’s cases are drastically different. They both serve as a representation of the transition between the abolishment of slavery in state law and abolishment of slavery in society and cultural values. None of the girls chose to be slaves, nor have they been born into slavery. In Abina’s case, Britain abolished the legality of slavery in 1874, but that only means that the slave owners cannot enforce enslavement in the court of law. In addition, the entire system of slavery was such an important economic driver that even when the system is abolished, plantation owners still find ways to import slave girls to work on the plantations. Under these circumstances Abina was passed as member of household or wives to work in the plantations. As such Abina has no freedom even though she is not legally a ‘slave’. As the text suggests, it is the slave themselves that have to make abolition a reality. In Juliana’s case, she was rendered a slave in Benguela in the late eighteenth century, a colony of the British empire which supposedly outlaws slavery. As the text suggests, ‘a person without lineage was a slave, a person with one was free’. Yet Juliana has a heathy family and lineage. She was enslaved simply because of her black appearance and is promised freedom only after her master has died. Even though her master agreed to negotiate on the conditions to her ‘freedom’, she ultimately depends on Xaucuri to provide Pereira with 2 young slaves or 3 or 4 male slaves. In both examples, Abina and Juliana worked and suffered as a slave, but they are not legally presented as slaves of the institution.
The definition of slavery is rather vague especially in relation to the definition of freedom in the world of Getz and Candido.
In Abina’s story, the distinction between slavery and freedom is blurred, with slavery being defined by its economic relationship. When money is used it is considered slavery. In contrast, if the person is treated poorly or abused then it becomes slavery.
The rules of slavery appear to be based on if the person is treated well or not, and brings up some questions about what qualifies as being treated well.
In Juliana’s story, who is a slave has a different meaning. She believes because of her high status and well respected family, she should not have been considered a slave. But it becomes quickly apparent that slave traders do not consider status to be important and with the high demand for slave labor, any one is fair game, including Julianna. After she is captured, her status and family identity are stripped away proving that it never mattered to slave traders and as she is most likely never realeased, she never regains this identity.
What is considered slave and free is defined differently in these two stories, yet similarly. Freedom is blurred and Julianna originally believes it cannot be taken away for certain people, though she is proven wrong. It is apparent that those who are enslaved are not chosen because of their status, morals, or anything other than pure demand for slave labor.
First off, we should remind ourselves that “slave” and “free” status are social constructs – both are the result of how others in the society treat a person, rather than any innate trait or conscious choice of that person. Historically, many (if not most) human societies seem to have at least some concept of forced servitude – chattel slaves, forced servants, indentured servants, debt slavery, serfs, sharecroppers, conscripts, etc. While slavery has many political, cultural, moral and social dimensions, I believe that it is primarily economic in nature.
Candido illustrates this very well in “Mechanics of Slavery” as we see time and again that, even when slavery is supposed to only be used after a defensive, just war, the Portuguese and their allies were always finding excuses to engage in such wars, and would break or manipulate treaties if necessary to do it. The main Portuguese oversight was to ensure that taxes were paid on the slaves, not if they were acquired “legitimately.” Even when Portuguese authorities later determined that a war had been launched for person gain (such as in the case of Captain Nóbrega’s war on the soba of Kiambela), not much was done to punish the perpetrators or provide restitution to the victims. A combination of economics and political convenience (it being inconvenient to punish your allies or the citizens operating your colony for you) is the simplest explanation for this. Money talks, after all.
In Abina’s case, she lived in a place where the British had, on paper, abolished slavery. However, the economic incentives (combined with a cultural acceptance of the practice among at least the powerful of the local African societies) meant that it continued on in cases such as Abina’s. Those still wishing to engage in slavery changed up their terminology and methodology (for example, Abina being a “wife”, or an “apprentice”, as Eddoo’s lawyer suggests) to allow the authorities (who have incentives to keep “important men” like Eddoo on their side) to look the other way. Abina was a slave in fact but not in name, and that was good enough for the British law, regardless of how she herself felt about it.
The stories of Abina and Juliana serve to illuminate that while slavery seems well-defined and monolithic from a contemporary perspective, the lines between freedom and bondage are much more blurred in the individual stories of history. To Abina, freedom is defined by her labor’s motivation; she describes that a slave continues to toil while the free take time to rest. Abina’s version of enslavement is also defined by her restricted movement—the very existence of her trial for her own freedom validates her enslavement to the modern reader. While distinction is clear to me, the fact that Abina was clothed, fed, and not beaten by her masters made it easier for her jury to justify that she is free enough to remain enslaved. In Juliana’s case, lineage and circumstance was much more relevant to defining her freedom or enslavement. While she retained fully engaged in her lineage and community, which typically separated free people from the enslaved in colonial Angola, her forceful removal paired with the increasing demand for bodies to perform labor called her freedom into question. Candido writes that Juliana’s case “demonstrates that freedom was not a permanent status because any free person could be seized and enslaved,” and that ruling classes exerted complete control over their subjects’ humanity, recounting that “enslavement did not start at the littoral, but at the moment they were captured and forced to cut links with their communities.”
The two women in the readings have very different backgrounds. Juliana’s experience takes place in the late eighteenth century in Benguela. In Benguela, there was a clear route to slavehood, one that Juliana did not conform to. In Juliana’s society, “a person without lineage was a slave, a person with one was free” (page 193). This made her slavery an anomaly since she had a clear family lineage. Abina’s story takes place in the late nineteenth century in West Africa. West Africa was a colony of the British who prided themselves on, supposedly, outlawing slavery. However, the British continued to exploit young women as a prominent, indentured workforce. The realities of these women’s lives contracted the contrived social values surrounding them. These differences caused the lines between “slave” and “free” to be very upsetting for these women.
To begin to understand this justified reaction to servitude, it is important to evaluate the beginning of their lives. They were both born as “free people” meaning that neither of them was born into slavery. Instead, they were both abruptly taken from their families and sold into slavery. This, justifiably, left both of them with an unwavering desire for the freedom they once had. Also, both women had support from individuals that were trying to grant them their freedom back. In Abina’s case, her lawyer, James Davis, took her case to court. Even though this was unheard of at the time, he risked his reputation and respect in the community to allow her voice to be heard. During Juliana’s fight for freedom, the governor of Angola, Francisco Inocêncio de Sousa Coutinho, advocated for her immediate release. These brave individuals stood up for what they knew was right and fought for these women that had been silenced by their masters.
There are a few differences between the women’s experiences. Juliana had members of her own tribe present ransom for her freedom. They offered other slaves in exchange, but they did not have enough to offer to trade for her freedom. Unlike Juliana, Abina’s peers betrayed her and belittled her attempts at proving her enslavement. Those brought into her trial claimed she was never sold or mistreated. Another difference between their experiences in slavery is Juliana’s initial promise of freedom once her master had died. Abina was never given such a promise; her slavery had no end in sight.
With all of these factors considered, it is obvious why both women were being torn apart by their enslavement. Being born into freedom and having it ripped away from you causes irreparable emotional scars. These women deserved to maintain the freedom they had been given earlier in their lives. In Abina’s society, slavery had been outlawed completely. Yet, the British government chose to allow slavery to continue by pretending it was simply another job or a mutual relationship. The concept of lineage in Juliana’s society suggested she should not have been enslaved, even though she was. These women’s lives were practically stolen from them the day they were sold into slavery.
“Mechanisms of Enslavement” really hammered in the notion that slavery (at least in the Angolan colony) was not as simple as one either being a slave or not being a slave, “inherently” or otherwise. This chapter showed that there were countless interventions that could change one’s status (curiously, mostly from free person to slave, rather than the other way around), meaning that slavery was not necessarily something that someone could only be born into, or even something that would only befall a certain class of people. For instance, if a wealthy man had an affair with a soba’s wife, his family might be enslaved. That hardly fits the narrative that most people might be used to, though that classical model seems to have been much more common. In Abina’s case, the political ramifications of punishing her master outweighed the importance of British justice for Judge Melton and his jury, all of whom feared the consequences of interfering with the affairs of “an important man.”
Though Juliana had technically been bought, she was not someone who was, for lack of a better word, meant to be “available” for enslavement. Thus, her master was more willing to negotiate the terms of her liberation, and when that fell through, she hung in a space between enslavement and liberty, where she had not yet been freed, but was not truly a slave. Abina, too, was not meant to be a slave; both because slavery was illegal in British colonies and because she was born in an area outside of the British Protectorate. Abina was a slave in a society where slavery was illegal, rendering her rather defenseless, as her experiences could be manipulated by semantics and tradition. Though her condition might have been one of enslavement, it couldn’t be proven that she was legally a slave, which, again, would have been difficult in a society that claimed it had outlawed slavery.
I found the fourth chapter of “An African Slaving Port and the Atlantic World” by Mariana P. Candido very interesting. The author’s description of Juliana’s story in the context of slavery in Angola shows how there was not a clear divide between slave and free populations. In the United States, slavery was not only a matter of class, but one of race. If someone had the appearance of being African, they were a slave. Conversely, if someone appeared to be European they were in no danger of becoming a slave. Slavery was very different in Angola. There were so many Africans there that not all of them were enslaved. This group of free Africans was not exactly free though. Candido writes, “Despite Juliana’s full status in her society, she ended up captured and sold as a slave, indicating that the institution of slavery itself had been affected by the trans-Atlantic slave trade and market demand,”. The author argues that increased economic demand for slaves around the world during the 18th century caused many Africans to be enslaved despite their lineage and family connections. Similarly, Abina should not have been in danger of becoming a slave. She lived in a society very similar to the reconstruction era of in the US. Though slavery had been abolished by the 13th Amendment, newly freed slaves were left with no place to live, no money and little to no belongings. This led to the institution of sharecropping, in which African Americans were given a place to live, food, and a percentage of the profits of their labor in exchange for servitude almost identical to what they were subjected to as slaves. Plantation owners would then charge African Americans for everything they had given them. This plunged the newly freed slaves into insurmountable debt, which forced them to remain in this slave like state. Abina story reveals that economic interest was much more important to Great Britain than their commitment to taking care of the African people in their colony. Davis’ superior reiterates this idea when Davis goes to him requesting that Abina be granted her freedom. “Moreover, men like Quamina Eddoo grow palm oil, and palm oil is taxed, and those taxes pay your salary and, in the long run, mine as well.” Economic interest leading to the enslavement of the “free” is a common theme thought these two stories. Despite governmental intervention, no African is safe when there is money to be made by powerful men.
In the 1876 court case of African woman Abina Mansah, the precarious balance of local political influences in the Gold Coast of West Africa and British law blurred the line between “slave” and “free” status. On manifold occasion, magistrate William Melton mentions this prominent inner conflict: his own success in his chosen career was determined by the stability of the Gold Coast colony and protectorate, which was subsequently in the hands of slave-owning men, some of whom sat on the jury. Due to the interplay of local custom and British law, what would otherwise be a clear decision is blurred into one dependent on a nuanced balance struck between outlawed slavery and irritable slave owners whose palm oil production generates the tax money that goes toward the salaries of Melton and Davis. Without the explicit evidence of the exchange of money nor gross violence, the deliberation of Abina’s case, and the subsequent divide between “slave” and “free,” becomes a subjective decision detached from Abina’s argument.
In the case of Juliana, the various means of enslavement – war, raids, kidnapping, punishment, etc.… – demonstrates a shift from Benguela’s hereditary definition of “slave” to the chaotic and arbitrary definition of “slave” that occurred in the early 1760s. While Juliana was fully integrated in her lineage and community, she was still at risk of enslavement through kidnapping or sale. Layered means of enslavement were a directed effort of Atlantic pressure for more slaves, generating violence and societal fracture. Anyone who seemed to dissent from traditional custom – by speaking a different language, practicing a different religion, belonging to a certain political affiliation, etc. – was at great risk for enslavement. Local political dynamics and broader demand from the trans-Atlantic slave trade, thus, blurred the fate of people born free, such as Juliana.
Slavery has never been a concept that has been accurately defined. When defining slavery, the definition has consistently defined around the exchange of money for a person, but in both cases, the issue around the blurring of lines revolves around culture and tradition. The law does not have provisions that truly protect differences within customs, which allows both the cases of Abina and Juliana to happen. Abina’s case was significantly blurred because there was no money exchanged between her husband and her new master. The laws should have protected Abina because slavery was illegal in Cape Coast in 1876, but when her master followed her to Cape Coast from the Gold Coast, she was at the mercy of the law, which was stacked against her. The wording of the trial, along with the jury of people who were not her peers, Abina’s status as a “free” woman, instead of a slave, was consequently misrepresented in court, allowing Magistrate Melton the ability to judge against her. While Abina’s necklace and its removal, along with the changing of her clothes signifies her transition from free to slave, but that is not recognized in the laws from the British that could never truly “civilize” the protectorate. In Juliana’s case, also shows the long-lasting use of slavery by the African population, who would not necessarily use slavery in terms of exchange of money. There are other innate cultural and traditional forms that result in what we define as slavery, but the people living there did not define it as such. The British protectorates had to function under the same rules, without the same protections for citizens like Juliana. The local situation adds a layer of confusion to the free vs. slave because the laws of culture are not always the same as the laws of the state.
Both Juliana and Abina were forced into a life of servitude, neither one deserving, even in context of their respective climate. While Juliana was born from a time in which family was the reason that many were spared a life of servitude. Abina was a slave during the time where money talks, and thus was the deciding factor concerning her status as a person. Whether their status was “slave” or “free” the reasoning behind these distinctions did differ. As Abina’s was one derived from wealth, and Juliana was one derived from family. Even though in the end, both fell prey to the big green monster: greed.
One of the prominent motivators throughout history is money. Undoubtedly, this is the primary cause behind a plethora of injustices committed throughout history. For Abina, this meant that the lines separating what made a person a “slave” or “free” within society was determined in lieu of the monetary implications of such. To clarify, Abina was not proclaimed to be a slave, as it would result in a great loss for the surrounding area. This was determined by a jury of people that could not begin to even sympathize with Abina on a humanitarian level, as they were all affluent members of society. While the law of the land specifically prohibited slaves, these so called “important men” were so filled with greed and lust for wealth, that they were willing to overlook a crime for personal gain. Thus, the guilty party that decided Abina’s status in society was a direct result of money. As money was the deciding factor between the affluent and the unfortunate. While those in positions of power could not begin to understand the humanitarian crisis in its entirety due to their limited knowledge of the topic, and inability to experience it for themselves; as they were able spared such a horrid life by something that holds no value in of itself, save for the value placed upon it by society: money.
In contrast to Abina’s woeful tale of misfortune, Juliana didn’t fare much better, but the difference was in the sequence of events that resulted in a life of slavery for Juliana. While Juliana’s story at first glance bore resemblance to one with a happy ending, it was merely gilded in gold. For context, those with lineage, as was Juliana, were spared the fate of immoral servitude. Alas, this was during the time of the Trans-Atlantic slave trade expansion, and thus a case could be made for the factor determining the status of “slave” or “free” to also be money (as was in Abina’s story); however, the fate of Juliana’s never would have been in such a predicament had the deciding factor not be one of lineage. While it was true that she did have a family that did want her back home, they were unable to afford the ransom, especially after a raid. Therefore, Juliana was unable to escape the life pf servitude she now found herself in. With the only way out being either her master’s death or the unlikely event that her family could afford the ransom. While the end of her story is unknown, it is plausible that she lived out the remainder of her master’s life in servitude and ended up serving another after he had died. As now the time for lineage to determine the status in society was over and money ruled supreme.
Abina and Juliana were women who existed in colonial Africa within the unclear and ill-defined definitions of slavery, and the pieces by Getz and Candido, respectively, outline how this ambiguity severely damaged the notion of freedom.
In Abina’s story, we can see how the deletion between enslavement and freedom is arbitrary. If there was no exchange of money, it was not slavery. If the subject was treated with dignity or respect, it was not slavery. If the subject was never beaten or tortured, it was not slavery. If the subject was the wife of the master, it was not slavery. These guidelines overlooked the true markers of slavery– most namely, the treatment of people as property– and instead left it to qualifications that could easily be lied about by these “important men” in a system that sought to protect them for the sake of the colony and the Crown.
For Juliana, her story begins with the risk-factor of slavery, and how she “should have” been spared due to her solidified lineage and position in her community. However, the trans-Atlantic slave trade seriously changed the tide of buying and selling in Africa, and due to this new demand, these lines were blurred, and Juliana was taken. Inter and intra-continental trade led to the taking of Juliana, as an increasingly war-torn Africa used kidnapping, village pillaging, and warmongering to capture slaves. Juliana more than likely was never released from her captor, either due to her family’s inability to pay ransom or that her name and identity eventually became lost.
These blurred lines separating slave and free were defined by arbitrary qualifications that protected the slave master and other “important men” and enabled them to keep their slaves and way of life, regardless of the legality or morality.
There were never lines to blur between “free” and “slave.” In the cases of Abina and Juliana, both were victims of an environment with ubiquitous violence perpetuated by the trans-continental slave trade. The foreign demand for slaved labor in Africa permeated through the coasts and inland; which blurred the lines between free and slaved. Regardless of how Abina and Juliana were enslaved, both women lived in an environment that didn’t really delineate between free and slaved. So many raids and judicial corruption did not guarantee their freedom. Both women had family or friends fight for their freedom, however, the long duration of the cases in court lasted too long for anything to come out of it. Family line did not help either, because the thirst for gunpowder and wealth was too great to prevent the raiders and kidnappers from differentiating their victims.
The slave trade displaced so many people that modern people tend to think of only the statistics. We forget to actually think of the individuals and their stories, and this is why it is important to read about Abina and Juliana’s cases. Their individual cases about their enslavement not only show how long the slave trade has been going on, but also the extents of the trade.
“Mechanisms of Enslavement” explicitly states the answer to this question: “ . . . as a result of the expansion of the trans-Atlantic slave trade, the clear line dividing free people from slaves became blurred” (Candido, 192). Though Julianna was technically “free,” she was inherently vulnerable to enslavement: at a moment’s notice, it was possible for her to be “forced to walk to the fortress of Caconda,” and “sold to the captain major” (Candido, 191). There was no clear explanation for this. Julianna was not a prisoner of war, nor had she committed a crime that warranted enslavement as a punishment. She was merely noticed, it seems, and then transformed into a slave. This appears to be entirely arbitrary. It did not matter that she “seemed to be fully integrated in her lineage,” either: if the opposite had been true, there would at least be some explanation, however dubious, for her enslavement. Her kin undoubtedly accepted and supported her: they went so far as to seek her out after she was enslaved. Indeed, Julianna was not isolated from her community, nor was she any different than free individuals within her society. What made her a slave, then, was the demand of the trans-Atlantic market, which came to dominate the interests of all parties in her region. To keep up with market demand, even those who were not “meant” to be slaves were forced to do the work of slaves. While they may not necessarily have been given the concrete moniker, they certainly lived in a condition of slavery.
This is certainly true in Abina’s case. She was undoubtedly enslaved: she was held against her will by a master-like figure. This man forced her to do household chores and to marry a man that he believed was best for her. She had no agency: she was not an individual, but a household hand whose only purpose was to serve. Workers like Abina were “needed” in the late 19th century: the demand from the trans-Atlantic market made laborers, whether within the household or in the field, an absolute necessity for those who wanted to take part in the supposed “modernization” efforts being embarked upon as the British took control of the Gold Coast. Slavery itself, however, was technically outlawed: “modernization” efforts saw slavery as a moral outrage and abolitionism as the progressive path toward a brighter future. Yet no one on the Gold Coast wanted to disrupt the flow of modernization, which, while attempting to tout morality as one of its core tenants, fundamentally supported the use of slavery to achieve economic modernization. Thus, Julianna and Abina were caught in a void of confusion: their status was theoretically and legally protected, respectively, but the law remained entirely unenforced in the name of prosperity and a false sense of continuity.
Abina and Juliana’s experiences with slavery understandably differed, given their differences in the context of time, location, and culture. Still, the common defining factor for the two was the inability to define a clear-cut line between slavery and freedom; it was this blurred factor that ultimately led to the enslavement of both.
In Abina’s case, although she was technically enslaved, under many of the legal standards of the time, she was considered in court merely as an “apprentice” of sorts. The actual state of servitude—being forced into labor, working unpaid, having no semblance of free will or control over your life—were not considered under the law. Rather, clarifiers such as the physical transfer of money, the actual use of the word “slave”, and excessive corporal punishment were all the loosely defining characteristics of enslavement. Hence, Abina’s argument that she had no control over her life (or none that she felt she could claim without punishment) held no weight in court. In her case, too, the judge’s limited knowledge of the customs of the region and culture played into the verdict. Here, the very acts that could symbolize enslavement for Abina—tearing her beaded necklace, the presentation of cloth as a mark of being sold as a wife, the mere threat of flogging—were twisted into simple “cultural norms” by the jury that could not be “translated” or deciphered into slavery. Abina’s own definition of slavery against freedom, her ability to control her own life, had no merit in the eyes of an all-male jury who already believed that a wife’s role should not be one of control but one of servitude.
In Juliana’s case, the cultural and regional practices of the time were slightly different. While slavery was not outlawed, it was supposedly restricted to those who had no family, no immediately traceable background: “A person without lineage was a slave. A person with one was free.” Still, the distinction between an “originally free” person and those destined for slavery was hardly observed during raids and wars where Africans—primarily women and children—were rounded up indiscriminately for enslavement. Such was Juliana’s case. Though she belonged to a lineage with strong connections and support, her own vulnerability as a young woman led to her own capture and brief enslavement. Cases like Juliana’s were far from isolated: oftentimes, only the distinction of being Catholic or Christian could save a person from enslavement, as even members of royal families were captured in times of chaos. Hence, gender, age, and religion were the predominant factors in blurring the lines between slavery and freedom for Juliana and other slaves of West Africa, rather than the often-argued distinctions of social class.
Very early on in the chapter, Candido illustrates that the lines between being free and being a slave were muddled and that slavery was a complicated and messy system. Candido states that the fact that Juliana was taken from freedom to slavery and back to freedom by ransom reveals that the idea of “freedom” in the region was messy and that even those that were “free” were vulnerable. Candido continues, “The legal pluralism that existed in West Central Africa facilitated the appropriation of legal rights by African subjects,” which further suggests that the idea of freedom for those in the region was at odds with multiple competing legal systems.
In Abina’s story, we can see how the difference between enslavement and freedom is arbitrary. This, I believe is particularly due to the time period in which these events took place: a time whereby the trans-atlantic slave trade (TAST) was just recently abolished but paradoxically, slavery within the continent was still rife and ever-increasing. The ambiguity of this paradox is what seems to have caused this arbitrary definition of slave for the people in Abina’s story. Since ‘slave’ as defined by the TAST has different connotation from what a slave looked like on the continent independent of TAST.
Similarly, early in the chapter, Candido tries to make it apparent that the lines between being free and being a slave were blurred and that slavery was a complex and not-easily-decipherable system. According to Candido, the fact that Juliana was taken from freedom, to slavery and back to freedom reveals that the idea of “freedom” in the region illustrates that this was a phenomenon that was not clear-cut in the way it was to be defined, and that even those that were “free” were still vulnerable and may always live their lives in fear of being stripped from that freedom.
The arrival of the Portuguese in Benguela automatically brought a violent environment and economic insecurity. This section explored the vulnerability of the free blacks and their unwarranted captures. In doing this, Candido is able to make an indistinct difference when it comes to the definition of what it meant to be a “slave” and what it meant to be “free” during this time. Though Juliana was a free black, she was unable to use the “legal code” to justify her freedom and was enslaved. Through this, we can see how manipulative this society in Benguela was towards people of color. Though there was this idea of “freedom,” there was nothing in this society that could allow this to be true for most blacks. Juliana was equally as “free” as those in her society, however, due to the rising demand in the slave trade, she was forced into enslavement. Abina, on the other hand, was not aware of the surroundings in her life. She was seen as a “slave” and only that in her time. When she looks to escape and to find a job, she is forced into unpaid labor, although slavery was not legal in Cape Cod at this time. By this, we can see how faint this line between being “free” and being “enslaved” is and how little power these people have in determining their own lives.
Although the context of Abina and Juliana’s cases are drastically different. They both serve as a representation of the transition between the abolishment of slavery in state law and abolishment of slavery in society and cultural values. None of the girls chose to be slaves, nor have they been born into slavery. In Abina’s case, Britain abolished the legality of slavery in 1874, but that only means that the slave owners cannot enforce enslavement in the court of law. In addition, the entire system of slavery was such an important economic driver that even when the system is abolished, plantation owners still find ways to import slave girls to work on the plantations. Under these circumstances Abina was passed as member of household or wives to work in the plantations. As such Abina has no freedom even though she is not legally a ‘slave’. As the text suggests, it is the slave themselves that have to make abolition a reality. In Juliana’s case, she was rendered a slave in Benguela in the late eighteenth century, a colony of the British empire which supposedly outlaws slavery. As the text suggests, ‘a person without lineage was a slave, a person with one was free’. Yet Juliana has a heathy family and lineage. She was enslaved simply because of her black appearance and is promised freedom only after her master has died. Even though her master agreed to negotiate on the conditions to her ‘freedom’, she ultimately depends on Xaucuri to provide Pereira with 2 young slaves or 3 or 4 male slaves. In both examples, Abina and Juliana worked and suffered as a slave, but they are not legally presented as slaves of the institution.
The definition of slavery is rather vague especially in relation to the definition of freedom in the world of Getz and Candido.
In Abina’s story, the distinction between slavery and freedom is blurred, with slavery being defined by its economic relationship. When money is used it is considered slavery. In contrast, if the person is treated poorly or abused then it becomes slavery.
The rules of slavery appear to be based on if the person is treated well or not, and brings up some questions about what qualifies as being treated well.
In Juliana’s story, who is a slave has a different meaning. She believes because of her high status and well respected family, she should not have been considered a slave. But it becomes quickly apparent that slave traders do not consider status to be important and with the high demand for slave labor, any one is fair game, including Julianna. After she is captured, her status and family identity are stripped away proving that it never mattered to slave traders and as she is most likely never realeased, she never regains this identity.
What is considered slave and free is defined differently in these two stories, yet similarly. Freedom is blurred and Julianna originally believes it cannot be taken away for certain people, though she is proven wrong. It is apparent that those who are enslaved are not chosen because of their status, morals, or anything other than pure demand for slave labor.
First off, we should remind ourselves that “slave” and “free” status are social constructs – both are the result of how others in the society treat a person, rather than any innate trait or conscious choice of that person. Historically, many (if not most) human societies seem to have at least some concept of forced servitude – chattel slaves, forced servants, indentured servants, debt slavery, serfs, sharecroppers, conscripts, etc. While slavery has many political, cultural, moral and social dimensions, I believe that it is primarily economic in nature.
Candido illustrates this very well in “Mechanics of Slavery” as we see time and again that, even when slavery is supposed to only be used after a defensive, just war, the Portuguese and their allies were always finding excuses to engage in such wars, and would break or manipulate treaties if necessary to do it. The main Portuguese oversight was to ensure that taxes were paid on the slaves, not if they were acquired “legitimately.” Even when Portuguese authorities later determined that a war had been launched for person gain (such as in the case of Captain Nóbrega’s war on the soba of Kiambela), not much was done to punish the perpetrators or provide restitution to the victims. A combination of economics and political convenience (it being inconvenient to punish your allies or the citizens operating your colony for you) is the simplest explanation for this. Money talks, after all.
In Abina’s case, she lived in a place where the British had, on paper, abolished slavery. However, the economic incentives (combined with a cultural acceptance of the practice among at least the powerful of the local African societies) meant that it continued on in cases such as Abina’s. Those still wishing to engage in slavery changed up their terminology and methodology (for example, Abina being a “wife”, or an “apprentice”, as Eddoo’s lawyer suggests) to allow the authorities (who have incentives to keep “important men” like Eddoo on their side) to look the other way. Abina was a slave in fact but not in name, and that was good enough for the British law, regardless of how she herself felt about it.
The stories of Abina and Juliana serve to illuminate that while slavery seems well-defined and monolithic from a contemporary perspective, the lines between freedom and bondage are much more blurred in the individual stories of history. To Abina, freedom is defined by her labor’s motivation; she describes that a slave continues to toil while the free take time to rest. Abina’s version of enslavement is also defined by her restricted movement—the very existence of her trial for her own freedom validates her enslavement to the modern reader. While distinction is clear to me, the fact that Abina was clothed, fed, and not beaten by her masters made it easier for her jury to justify that she is free enough to remain enslaved. In Juliana’s case, lineage and circumstance was much more relevant to defining her freedom or enslavement. While she retained fully engaged in her lineage and community, which typically separated free people from the enslaved in colonial Angola, her forceful removal paired with the increasing demand for bodies to perform labor called her freedom into question. Candido writes that Juliana’s case “demonstrates that freedom was not a permanent status because any free person could be seized and enslaved,” and that ruling classes exerted complete control over their subjects’ humanity, recounting that “enslavement did not start at the littoral, but at the moment they were captured and forced to cut links with their communities.”