Looking to history problem in "Amistad"
By Michael Henderson and Patricia West
First appeared in the Albany, NY Times Union,
December 28, 1997
Martin Van Buren was the eighth American president sworn to uphold
the laws of a nation in which slavery was legal and constitutionally
recognized. To preserve the increasingly fragile Union, Van Buren
did not challenge slavery, but opposed its extension beyond the
southern states in which it already existed, even running in 1848
as an anti-extension presidential candidate for a third party
that paved the way for Lincoln's ascension.
Yet, according to Steven Spielberg's new film, "Amistad,"
Van Buren's was a patently (and unscrupulously) pro-slavery administration.
Spielberg's treatment of slavery captures the terrors experienced
by the only immigrant group forced to come to America, and, as
such, the movie does a great service to an American public inclined
to misunderstand or repress African-American history. Yet the
same sensitivity and historical integrity is not, unfortunately,
applied to the movie's rendering of antebellum politicians like
Van Buren, portrayed as a doltish, unprincipled figure manipulating
the courts for the sole purpose of re-election. In this respect
at least, the film reflects more precisely the issues of our own
era than those of the first half of the nineteenth century. Disenchantment
with politicians in general and cynicism about the abuse of executive
power for self-serving purposes are understandable themes given
the events of our lifetimes. Legitimate though this subject matter
may be in the realm of art, if we wish to truly come to terms
with the legacy of slavery, it is important to distinguish history
from drama.
"Amistad's" dramatic and historical content would have
been enriched had it not represented Van Buren by a Bullwinkle-like
caricature and the great Spanish military threat by the childish
Isabella. Van Buren was, in reality, an intelligent, accomplished
lawyer whose hero was Jefferson and whose life work was the creation
of a Democratic party united across North and South. In this context,
the actions of his administration were framed by the threat of
civil war on the one hand and serious conflict with Spain on the
other.
Instead, Nigel Hawthorne's buffoonish Van Buren is simply a vain,
venal vote-grubber, offering us little insight into the political
history of slavery. In fact, no presidential candidate in the
antebellum period could have been elected having displayed any
sympathy for the bitterly divisive abolitionist movement, however
mainstream its values are today.
While Van Buren's response to the Amistad case may not
be defensible on moral grounds, it has something of value to teach
us. If we interpret the political lesson of the Amistad
incident to be that we should be aware of selfish and stupid chief
executives, we lose the opportunity to come to terms with the
deep historical implications of slavery. When in a dramatized
closing argument before the Supreme Court, Anthony Hopkins invokes
the wisdom of the Founding Fathers, "Amistad" fails
to emphasize the fact that it was the very framers of the Constitution
from whom the antebellum sons inherited the thorny political problem
of slavery.
When we look beyond myth to history for guidance, we most often
find that it is the problem we have inherited, not the solution.
Michael Henderson is the
former Superintendent of the Martin Van Buren
National Historic Site in Kinderhook, New York. Patricia West,
PhD. is the Historian at Martin Van Buren National Historic
Site.
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