The material below is excerpted or taken entirely from the following site, and all reproductions should recognize this source: http://ericir.syr.edu/Virtual/Lessons/crossroads/sec2/Intro.html#CHALLENGE
I. Reinterpreting the Encounter
Just in time for the five hundredth anniversary of Columbus's voyages to the Americas, historians have abandoned the rhetoric of discovery -- or, at least, brought it under severe control. No longer do we say that Columbus and the other European explorers "discovered" America. Rather, the European voyagers encountered Indian peoples and cultures who had been present in the Americas for hundreds or even thousands of years.
As John Noble Wilford has pointed out, the quincentenary of Columbus's voyages differed profoundly from the quadricentenary of 1892 and the tercentenary of 1792 -- both of which emphasized the unalloyed benefits of the "discovery of America" and the bravery and modernity of Columbus's thought and enterprise. In part, of course, the 1892 omission of Indian peoples from the commemoration of Columbus, except as anthropological curiosities, stemmed from the series of Indian wars that ranked with the War of 1812, the Mexican War, and the Civil War as determinants of American foreign and military policy. The Indians were conquered foes, perceived as being somewhere on the spectrum between brave enemies and savage primitives. To accord them equal billing with the great Christopher Columbus was, to their way of thinking, ridiculous.
The shift from the emphases of the quadricentenary to those of the quincentenary reflects the dramatic transformation in twentieth-century American views of the Indians (see essay I) -- of their status as indigenous peoples, of the dignity and worth of t heir cultures, of the plausibility and validity of their ideas about the proper relationships between human beings and the natural world, and of the sufferings they endured at the hands of white explorers, settlers, and conquerors. It also reflects two other factors:
(i) post-Vietnam doubts about America's role in the world and
(ii) the problems posed by the conflict between defenders of Western culture and attackers of "cultural imperialism."
Nonetheless, although this conceptual shift may look to some like "political correctness," it makes good sense. It recognizes that what we used to call the "Discovery of America" was really a "first contact" (of the sort beloved by fans of science fiction on) between two sets of civilizations and cultures. (Indeed, European colonists in North America would not have survived without the aid of the Indian peoples who greeted and befriended them and taught them what crops to cultivate, what game to hunt, and how to build shelters.) This first contact, however, was not governed by the "prime directive" of noninterference familiar to devotees of Star Trek. Most European explorers, conquerors, colonizers, and missionaries felt few compunctions about interfering with indigenous cultures -- by deliberate force (as with Francisco Pisarro's 1531-1533 conquest of the Inca empire in Peru), by a combination of force and accident (as with Hernando Cortes's unsuccessful 1518 assault on the Aztec empire in Mexico, which h exposed the Aztec to smallpox that devastated the population and made Cortes's 1521 attack a success), or by accident (95 percent of the Maya people of Mexico succumbed to diseases contracted due to contact with Europeans).
There were some beneficial results of contact, however; Europeans introduced new technologies, crops, and domestic animals to the Americas, and Indian peoples absorbed these innovations into their own cultures and economies. And, even though Spanish authorities insisted on supplanting (often by forcible conversion) indigenous religions with Roman Catholocism, the Roman Catholic clergy soon emerged as powerful advocates for justice for native peoples. Ultimately, however, Europeans received the great majority of the benefits of American colonization.
II. Exploration, Conquest, Exploitation, Colonization
The story of this period is more than the story of contact between Europeans and Indians. It is also the story of the Europeans' attempts to found colonies in the Americas -- some as bases for exploration, conquest, and exploitation; others as permanent colonies.
How do we tell the story of this period? The best way is to synthesize an array of older and newer historical and pedagogical methods.
There are two areas of special concern in studying the period of contact:
(i) the chronology of exploration, conquest, and colonization: Traditionally, teachers have marched their students through the roster of explorers, discoverers, conquerors, and empire-builders, whether in strict chronological order, geographical order, or a combination of the two (that is, in the order established by the succession of European nations in exploration, conquest, and colonization -- first the Portuguese, then the Spanish, and then the English, French, Dutch, and Swedish).
This chronology is still worth giving to students -- as long as we tell them why they need it and why they will find it useful. In essence, we can demonstrate the utility of chronology by illustrating how it provides (i) a basic framework on which they can hang additional ideas and information, and (ii) context, background, and useful juxtapositions that enable them to make historical connections and begin learning how to interpret history for themselves. If we explain the utility and necessity of abs orbing the chronology, they will not approach it as just another arid, useless set of dates, names, and events. (This point is true across the whole sweep of American history -- not just in this period.)
For example, there remains considerable value in the traditional juxtaposition of the history of English exploration and discovery in the Americas with the ideas and achievements of the Renaissance in England. At the same time, however, we should not fall into the hoary cliche that the Spanish were a backward-looking people in decline, merely because Spanish culture in the Renaissance does not resonate with modern American culture in the ways that English Renaissance culture does.
(ii) Rather than just treating the succession of European voyages, settlements, and colonies as a kind of proto-Amtrak timetable, we and our students must grapple with the spectrum of goals, purposes, and methods followed by the various European nations -- including their competition with one another.
Before we examine the differing motivations that European nations had to come to the Americas, we should analyze the factors they had in common. All the European nations were beginning to experience a massive growth in population, recovering from the terrible depredations of the Black Death of the fourteenth century. Population growth brought in its wake the growth of national economies, the growth of consumer demand (including demand for exotic products), and the development of advances in shipbuilding and navigation, so that mariners could compete more effectively in the mercantile traffic of fifteenth-century and sixteenth-century Europe. The resurgence of commerce also gave a powerful impetus to the forces of centralization and nationalism, building powerful new monarchic nations whose leaders were intent on consolidating their claims to power by cultivating and fostering the economic development of their nations. Finally, European nations, fascinated by and hungry for increased trade with the we wealthy nations of Asia (and inspired by the popular accounts of travelers such as the Venetian merchant Marco Polo), sought better and more effective routes of transportation and trade -- which, in turn, drove these governments to encourage advances in shipbuilding and navigation, and then voyages of exploration. (Much of this summary will be familiar from "older" accounts of the "Age of Discovery.")
To offer a few broad generalizations for each exploring and colonizing European nation (keeping in mind William Blake's warning, as quoted by Axtell -- "To generalize is to be an idiot"):
(a) The Spanish and the Portuguese came to the Americas to pursue dreams of empire, both secular and religious. Although the Portuguese acquired Brazil under the Treaty of Tordesillas (1494), the Spanish were the principal Iberian power in the Americas. Their religious aims were simple: to win these lands and peoples for Catholicism. Their secular aims included bringing Central and South America under their imperial governance to augment the power of Spain in world affairs, seeking great wealth (both the gold and gems that were rumored to abound in the Americas), and gratifying their individual ambitions for power and glory (especially in a stratified society like Spain, the Americas offered intoxicating opportunities for social and political advancement).
As James Axtell points out, the old, powerful "Black Legend" that purported to describe the Spanish explorations, conquests, and colonial enterprises is largely a caricature. Under the terms of this legend, the Spanish colonists were conquistadores (conquerors ) -- brutal men, interested only in loot, pillage, rape, and murder, who left a trail of savage destruction wherever they went. Even though many of the early Spanish conquistadores were interested only in gold and gems and were ruthless in their methods, emphasis on brutality and greed does not explain how the Spanish created a colonial empire in Latin America that lasted for more than two centuries (longer, indeed, than the British Empire lasted in that part of North America that we now know as the United States). The "Black Legend" has some basis, notably in the work of the Spanish priest and former conquistador Bartolome de Las Casas, who intended his impassioned histories to persuade the Spanish monarchs to restrain the excesses of the exped expeditions of exploration, conquest, and conversion they had authorized. But, as Axtell notes, the "Black Legend" is also largely an artifact of nineteenth-century Protestant Americans of English or Anglo-Saxon ancestry who were convinced that Catholic lands and peoples were tyrannous, lazy, cruel, and semi-barbarous. It has thus obscured the stability, cultural achievements (including the founding of universities in Mexico older than any in North America), and occasional benificence of the Spanish colonies.
It also should be noted here that slavery (in particular, African slavery, because enslaving Indians proved unsuccessful) was introduced to the Americas by the Portuguese and the Spanish -- over a century before the first Africans arrived in Virginia (in 1619). In part, the European slave traders joined a slave trade that was several centuries old, beginning with west Africans' selling slaves to Mediterranean traders in the eighth century. Apparently, the small but continuous traffic in slaves, in which the Portuguese were the leading European practitioners, exploded in the fifteenth century when the Portuguese applied slavery to the cultivation of sugar cane, first in their Atlantic island colonies and then in Latin America. The Spanish quickly followed owed suit, to be succeeded in the seventeenth century by the Dutch and in the eighteenth century by the English.
(b) The French also came to the Americas for wealth and power, but their methods were different. They did not seek to conquer the regions they explored and laid claim to -- only to repel the competing claims of rival powers like Spain and England and to establish a foothold for themselves in the American continents (a pattern followed as well by the Dutch and the Swedish, who sought to establish colonies as international economic bases, rather than as permanent settlements). The traditional view is that, because the French did not engage in a full-scale colonizing enterprise like that of the English, they missed a priceless opportunity. To be sure, that statement itself is based on a huge network of unarticulated assumptions about how a European nation ion "should" look upon the "opportunities" presented by the Americas.
(c) The English were laggards in the race for the Americas, but, because they ultimately changed their understanding of the nature and purpose of colonies, the English colonies eventually were among the most successful in the Americas. At first, English explorers sought the same kinds of benefits that animated the Spanish, Portuguese, and French enterprises -- discovery of gold, jewels, and other valuable goods for trade and commerce. Gradually, the English shifted their emphasis to include the plant planting of self-maintaining colonies that, due to the structure of English government, politics, and political theory, acquired a measure of self-governance. As a result, traditional accounts of the English explorations and colonizations are remarkably benign, emphasizing the ideas that the founders of the colonies planted "seeds of democracy" in the "New World."
What drove the English to reconceptualize the nature and purpose of colonies? One factor was the disastrous Roanoke experiment of 1584. That colony, founded on the traditional model by Sir Walter Ralegh, disappeared without a trace within three years. The change in the nature of English colonies also grew out of a combination of economic factors. The growing demand for wool, which led many landowners to enclose their lands as pasturage for sheep, deprived many English families of farmland that they had used for subsistence farming. The growing number of landless poor, combined with a dramatic population growth (from three million in 1485 to four million by 1603), posed a major problem that, English officials became convinced, could be solved by exp exporting the "surplus population" to colonies in North America. Finally at the same time that the English were grappling with the challenges posed by the Americas, they also were struggling with the crises of religious divisions and sectarian rivalry. It therefore seemed a useful expedient to permit members of difficult religious minorities -- the most famous examples are the Pilgrims in 1620 and the Puritans in 1630 -- to leave England for America. The mother country would be safely insulated from these dissenting religious colonies by distance and the hardship of travel; mother country and colonies could thus leave one another alone.
By the close of this period, the Europeans had only the most dim and uncertain ideas of how the new societies they had planted in the Americas would develop. The "voyages of discovery and exploration" set the stage for a reconceptualization of the European world. No longer would Europeans be limited to the European continent -- they would now occupy the land on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean, creating what later scholars would call the Atlantic civilization. The development of the American component of that civilization is traced in essay III.
III. The Differentness of the Colonial World
This "differentness" includes several key components:
The colonies were the first "new" societies in thousands of years of European history. The colonists who came to the Americas knew that they were taking part in the founding of new societies, the success of which was not foreordained by any stretch of the imagination. They remembered the Roanoke experiment (1584) in present-day North Carolina, and several other, less famous failed colonial ventures. They knew about the appalling loss of life in the first years of the Jamestown colony (1607) and the Plymouth colony (1620).
The colonies' political structures were likewise new, and their
fragility helped exacerbate the contentiousness of colonial politics
throughout the period. The problem of "newness" is further illustrated by
the development of the colonies of Massachusetts Bay and Connecticut.
Originally, there were two settlements in Massachusetts -- Massachusetts
Bay and Plymouth -- and two settlements in Connecticut -- Connecticut and
New Haven. By 1700, Massachusetts Bay had swallowed up Plymouth, and
Connecticut had absorbed New Haven.
The English colonies were monarchic societies, acknowledging the sovereignty of the English Crown (except for the Commonwealth period, 1649-1660, following the execution of Charles I, when the colonies acknowledged the sovereignty first of the Commonwealth , and then of Oliver Cromwell as Lord Protector). This monarchic context had important consequences for the internal social and political structures of the colonies. Although classes in the colonies were neither so fixed nor so complex as the English social system, there were important distinctions between gentlemen, or "the better sort," and ordinary people, sometimes subdivided into "the middling sort" and "the lower sort." We see these distinctions, which at times achieved mind-numbing complexity, most clearly in the ways that Harvard and other colonial colleges ranked their students -- not by academic distinction, nor by alphabetical order, but by social rank.
These distinctions mattered most in colonial politics. In each of the colonies, a system of factional and familial loyalties and animosities formed the context within which particular disputes played themselves out. To cite the most famous example, the 1735 case of the New York printer John Peter Zenger was not an isolated attack on freedom of the press by a tyrannical royal government; Zenger was an ally of the Livingston-Alexander faction in opposition to the Delancey faction, which dominated New York's executive and judiciary. Another important illustration is the longstanding opposition pitting the Hutchinsons and Olivers against the Otises and their allies in Massachusetts. When one faction took the part of the Crown and the mother country, the e other faction gravitated to the "popular" or "democratic" side. These patterns persisted through the Revolution and early national periods, eroding only under the assault of Jacksonian democracy in the 1820s and 1830s.
These distinctions in social rank were not ironclad -- for example, in 1706 Benjamin Franklin was born the youngest son of a "middling sort" printer in Boston; within forty years, on his retirement from the printing business, he had established himself as a gentleman in Philadelphia. Still, it would be almost inconceivable in the seventeenth-century colonial world, and extremely difficult in the eighteenth-century colonial world, for someone like Bill Clinton to aspire to high (or, indeed, any) political office.
IV. The Diversity of the Colonial World
The colonies of British North America were founded by different people and groups, at different times, and for different reasons. There was no "master plan" to create a large, organized political entity called British North America; it just evolved that way. This diversity was not just political, although there were several types of colonies; it was also religious, ethnic, and cultural. To be sure, the diversity of colonial life may look like various kinds of vanilla to a citizen of the United States, circa 1993, but it was considerable and remarkable in the view of any European visitor to the American colonies.
V. Colonial Protypes of American Politics
Two aspects of the colonial experience are notable because they appear to us to be prototypes of later political and constitutional doctrines that are critical to the course of American history. While we are right to acknowledge their significance and to note connections between them and their successors, we should not assume that the later developments were implicit in their colonial precursors, nor should we view these features of the colonial period through the lens of subsequent history.
It is still a matter of vigorous historical and jurisprudential dispute what an "established church" was in the colonial, Revolutionary, and early national periods. History, in this as in so many other cases, mingles uncomfortably with constitutional law because those who seek to interpret the religion clauses of the First Amendment often have recourse to the history of religion, and of religion's relationship with government, during the colonial, Revolutionary, and early national periods. For this reason, this issue requires somewhat extended treatment here.
Those - the "nonpreferentialists" or "accommodationists" -- who oppose Thomas Jefferson's concept of a strict "wall of separation" between church and state maintain that an established church could only be a single church, allied closely with the state, like the Church of England in Great Britain. They maintain that no such religious establishment ever existed in the American colonies, therefore that no "wall of separation" prohibits government aid to religion, and thus that government need not remain neutral as between religion and no religion -- only that the government may not pick and choose which religion it seeks to aid.
Their adversaries, the "separationists," maintain that there was
such a thing as a "multiple establishment" -- a legal arrangement by which
several different churches all received government tax moneys and official
support -- and that those who sought to establish separation of church and
state by adopting the First Amendment were aware of this situation and
sought to prevent the federal government from reviving it on the national
level.
At the close of the Seven Years' War (or the French and Indian War), fewer British subjects were more loyal to the Crown and more proud to be Britons than the inhabitants of British North America. The colonists had fought side-by-side with British forces against the French and their Indian allies, and had contributed to a tremendous victory that reshaped the power balance of the Atlantic world. It was thus all the more stunning that, within five years, divisions between the colonies and the mother country first erupted, inaugurating more than a decade of polemical argument and then popular violence that culminated in the first colonial revolution of modern times, and the first successful colonial revolution in history -- the subject of essay III.