We keep talking about violence in these historical and sometimes contradictory ways, and Nat Turner’s rebellion stands still, as it has done over the past two hundred years. It stands as this action, this action founded in religious philosophy, this action based in coded and emotive language. It is this example that we point to as one of the most destructive and violent slave rebellions in North American history, yet simultaneously, Nat Turner thought of himself as a prophet of God, complicating our plagued definitions and ways of understanding violence. Using this already violent religion that was forced upon him and his ancestors, he professed that a “new” violence was the only way to steal back his body and his mind.
I bring this to the class’s attention as a piece of foundational thought that has been and will be contested, especially in our own class and in our own moment. Turner’s rebellion brings up questions of returning violence with violence, whether and in what circumstances we should rebel using violence, if we have the right to question things that are embedded in the fabric of our existence, and countless other questions that plague our society (particularly in light of Charlottesville, Berkeley, Ferguson and countless others), contemporary and historical. Turner’s rebellion questions the foundational practices of slavery, Christian beliefs, and its civilizing mission; connected, we have to continuously ask ourselves what measures can be rightfully and morally taken to break the bonds of slavery –– and what of injustice and inequality. Can we fight the same way in both instances; should we fight the same way in both instances?
Martin Luther King Jr. maligned violent action throughout most of his life, while Malcolm X and Huey Newton did the opposite using some of the very same philosophies and principles. Even now, we have philosophers such as Ab-Soul and Raury proposing completely separate and divisive ideas, while simultaneously upholding the same goal – that of bringing about justice. Like Turner, Ab-Soul sings of using violence to free black folk, while also reminiscing of Ethiopia (a symbol of Abyssinian greatness and power), “Wish I could see out of Selassie’s eye/ Maybe my sovereignty would still be mine/ If all the gangs in the world unified/ We’d stand a chance against the military tonight.”[1] Still, on the other hand, Raury writes, “Because a man should kill no man/ On no condition,” “after hearing that Darren Wilson was not being indicted for murdering Mike Brown.”[2] Like all of these philosophers, our class still has to deal with the question of violence. We still have to deal with self-contradictory religious beliefs and actions. Like Turner, we have to question and complicate the history of colonization, its material and human extraction (violence), and the linked concept of race. We have to decide whether change can come about peacefully or if violence is a necessity- if we can return violence with violence and what that looks like.
WC: 546
Pedged: Brad Bierdz
[1] Ab-Soul, Terrorist Threats, performed by Ab-Soul, Jhené Aiko, and Danny Brown (2012; Los Angeles: Top Dawg Entertainment), Song.
[2] Raury, Fly, Performed by Raury (2015; New York: Columbia Records), Song; “Fly: Song Lyrics & Knowledge,” Genius, Accessed August 28, 2017, https://genius.com/Raury-fly-lyrics.
