Crossing the Pond: Does "Atlantic" History Exist?

*Author's note: This is a reproduction of my final paper for a graduate course in Atlantic History.

When Martin Luther discussed the Ten Commandments in his Small Catechism, he provided a concise explanation of all that each commandment entailed by answering the question: "What does this mean?" For example, when answering what it means that one should have no other gods, Luther wrote that his followers were to "fear, love, and trust in God above all things." He thought this to be a proper means by which Christians could learn and remember what was required by God so as to not disobey each commandment. If only the field of Atlantic history had such a convenient way to define its parameters. Though oceanic approaches to history have existed for some time, those calling themselves historians of the Atlantic world still grapple with the fundamental question: "What does Atlantic history mean?"

Despite some remarkable efforts, the inability of Atlantic historians to reach a consensus over the definitions of their field has caused the approach to languish behind Fernand Braudel's Mediterranean world and the academic progress made in defining the Pacific world. This shortcoming has been viewed in two distinct ways. First, it frustrates those interested in "doing" Atlantic history. The connections between Atlantic societies are visible. In fact, there are likely too many to count. Yet these connections do not necessarily point to the existence of an Atlantic "world" in the Braudelian sense of the word. Revolutions, though possessing very similar origins, ended in drastically dissimilar ways. It seemed that economic relations between all of the Atlantic nations came and went, and were often at the mercy of the various European maritime powers. It could be said that the same Atlantic world would not have developed had European peoples not exported themselves west in the first place.

Yet historians have also regarded the lack of a clearly defined Atlantic world with eagerness. The boundaries, for the moment, remain fluid, allowing all who are so inclined to aid in shaping its creation. Many Atlantic relationships have yet to be uncovered and those that are well-known can now be approached from a different direction. The possibilities, it seems, are numerous. Unfortunately, and this is not without its own degree of uncertainty, Atlantic history itself may be impossible.

Though not fully convinced of either its plausibility or impossibility, I highlight three broad areas of concern that enhance my doubts that Atlantic history can be successfully written. First, semi-distinct Atlantic boundaries must be erected, whether geographic, economic, or political in nature. Second, historians must remain wary of impressing a twenty-first-century understanding upon seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth century realities. Finally, one must determine whether or not a single, though undoubtedly multi-voluminous, Atlantic history could be written and what it must include. These considerations will provide the framework for this examination while a review of some more or less "Atlantic" texts helps to show how historians have addressed or evaded these problems thus far. Let us, then, begin with the first question. What does Atlantic history mean?In his article concerning Pacific history, Matt Matsuda argued that the best approach to the Pacific world is to highlight the small islands that bind the outlying nations together, rather than concentrating on the continental and economic powers of the ocean's rim. This novel idea, however, is not applicable to the Atlantic. Though its islands certainly brought European powers into contact with one another, such contact can be easily viewed as simple extensions of continental conflicts carried to the Western Hemisphere under European imperialism. Moreover, Alison Games has asserted that under European imperialism Africa remains consigned, in a sense, to representation by proxy as its position as a slave-provider remained important, but its political significance in the Western Hemisphere continued to be little.¹

Peregrine Horden and Nicholas Purcell, however, note similar criticisms of Mediterranean history, a relative success story in the field of marine-centered histories. Those opposed to the Mediterranean concept contend that the region was "born of imperialism and deployed in the service of politically undesirable master narratives." One way around this has been to define the boundaries of the Mediterranean world by a common climate, or similar flora and fauna. Again, the Atlantic world is at a distinct disadvantage. Its political and economic links reached from England to Georgia, Saint Domingue to France, Spain to Chile, and Africa to just about everywhere. It would be difficult, however, to favorably compare French climate to that in Argentina or New England ecosystems to those in Gambia. Thus, an Atlantic world marked by geographic and political boundaries is non-existent.²

Despite lacking the same type of coherence that scholars have unearthed in Mediterranean or even Pacific history, historians note that the Atlantic world possesses certain intriguing connections that would justify studying it from such a broad perspective. Economics is one such possibility. The Atlantic world was distinctly capitalist, and each nation sought to exploit any favorable circumstances in international trade. Gordon Brown's Toussaint's Clause demonstrates well that economics, rather than a possible feeling of kinship with those struggling against European rule, motivated a U.S. foreign policy that leaned favorably toward Haiti during the island's revolution. He writes that though an "anti-Haitian" policy rested just beneath U.S. diplomatic relations with the island throughout its revolution, it crystallized only when "the collapse of the Haitian export economy" was certain.³

Conversely, Andrew Jackson O'Shaughnessy's An Empire Divided reveals that apparent Caribbean support for the rebellion undertaken by the British American colonies only reflected a growing wariness among the islands that continued disruptions in their American trade due to the tension between the British and the Americans would severely jeopardize the islanders' livelihoods. Without the importation of American foodstuffs, the Caribbean colonists faced the increasing likelihood that large populations of underfed slaves would revolt on the islands. O'Shaughnessy admits that "there were indeed important overlapping ties between the British West Indies and North America, but they were weaker than those" economic ties that bound the islands to their mother country. Chiefly for economic reasons, then, those in the British West Indies lobbied for the British to ease Anglo-American tensions.⁴

All Atlantic nations struggled to remain on top the capitalist system. John Thornton's Africa and Africans in the Making of the New World shows that economic concerns dominated Atlantic relations between Africa and the many nations that demanded her slaves. While European nations competed with one another for as much control over the lucrative African markets as possible, African kings exploited such competition to receive the greatest remuneration in return. Capitalistic concerns also influenced the Spanish American colonies. According to Richard Graham, desire for economic independence from the Spanish colonies in Latin America fueled the efforts of the Creole populations to rebel. Meanwhile, a lagging Spanish economy made it "all the more difficult to protect the far-flung empires established in the sixteenth century" from other European nations interested in partaking in the potential riches of Latin America.⁵

Though economy and capitalism represent effective lenses through which to view Atlantic history, they are nevertheless extremely broad concepts. The Atlantic approach has undoubtedly benefited from intensive studies of the Atlantic slave trade as a prime example of the economic and capitalistic links that joined most of the Atlantic lands. Even if one sets aside the economics of Atlantic slavery, it remains the strongest and most unifying thread running through the history of the Atlantic world. Thornton argues that slavery made Africa "a full partner in the development of Atlantic world." The trade infused the New World with African culture, and created unique social mixtures of blacks, whites, creoles, mestizos, mulattoes, and natives, to name but a few.⁶

Slavery also presented the Atlantic nations with a common problem. Cries of its inhumanity and incompatibility with the proclamations of liberty and equality erupting in France and the United States-rights long championed by the British-led to the further uprooting of slaves. Simon Schama's Rough Crossings follows the transfer of blacks from Africa to the American mainland and on to such places as Nova Scotia and Sierra Leone, thus binding with human ties nations separated by an ocean. Moreover, Lester Langley implies that the existence of slavery aided in shaping the revolutions in the Western Hemisphere. The British mainland colonies wrestled with how to base a revolution on concepts like liberty and equality while simultaneously avoiding the destruction of a slave system that had become a significant contributor to their economies. Contrarily, those advocating for a revolution in Haiti understood that the U.S. experience could not be followed; slavery had to be eradicated. This complete overhaul of the social hierarchy and the chaos that ensued would cause those desiring change in Latin America to fear what empowered slaves could do. Latin American revolutions, then, followed a much more restrained course.⁷

The Atlantic slave trade effectively quiets the first area of concern when considering whether or not Atlantic history is plausible. It offers recognizable barriers, and binds together the Atlantic nations, no matter how politically, geographically, or culturally different they may have been. Yet it does not answer the second question of whether or not the Atlantic world is merely a twentieth-century construct imposed upon these nations. Did those involved in what we can today call the Atlantic world hold a similar understanding of their relationships with the other nations or do we, as Peregrine Horden and Nicholas Purcell ask, bring Atlantic history into existence simply because we can approach it from that perspective? For example, Matt Matsuda points to evidence that early Polynesians had at least a basic understanding of a Pacific world, and that "Pacific histories...were maintained and transmitted through ritual, image, dance, and oral tradition." Something like this would need to be found in Atlantic history before it can viewed as a plausible approach.⁸

Alison Games suggests that the concept of an Atlantic world did not exist in the minds of its residents. She asserts that "historians have first had to invent the region." What we today refer to as the Atlantic world, she concludes, "our ancestors perceived as several distinct seas." Therefore, it must be determined if history is best told from an Atlantic perspective if those who shaped it defined themselves and others as American, French, or Mexican, or even as whites, blacks, creoles, or natives. As Gordon Brown indicates, it would make little sense to argue that U.S. support for the Haitian revolution came as a result of some notion of Atlantic kinship. Perhaps more studies are needed to determine whether or not a sense of Atlantic identity ever existed.⁹

Though he does not directly address the idea of an existing Atlantic concept, Bernard Bailyn offers further clues as to whether or not Atlantic residents ever understood their world as such. Bailyn's short Atlantic History: Concepts and Contours suggests that by recognizing the distinct, though often similar, viewpoints present in each encounter involving Atlantic residents, and reevaluating encounters under the belief that in an Atlantic world everyone should be considered "native," one can rethink the interconnectedness of the Atlantic peoples, whether that be economically, socially, geographically, or politically. Unfortunately, no one at the time thought in such a manner. His Ideological Origins of the American Revolution demonstrates that the ideas that would ultimately compose the American brand of political thought-just representation, inalienable rights, the distribution of governmental power-came from many different nations both inside and outside the Atlantic world. Their origins lay in English values and common law, French philosophy, and the political experiences of countries like Denmark, Sweden, and Switzerland. Yet these ideas were specifically identified at the time (and still today) with the nations from which they came. They were not necessarily recognized as notions common to an Atlantic world.¹⁰

Perhaps enough evidence will be found to someday justify the contention that certain events in the Atlantic region, like revolutions, were linked in such a way as to be considered a distinct Atlantic phenomenon, rather than mere results of local and international circumstances. For example, as Gary Nash has discovered, women, blacks, Native Americans, and the lower classes actively partook in the forging of the United States during its revolution. If similar participation can be found during the Haitian and Latin American revolutions, then one might consider with greater interest the "Atlanticness" of these events. Yet, initially, the Haitian revolution was intended to be nothing more than a social revolution during which allegiance to the colonizing power was to be maintained, not cast off as it had been in British America and would be in Latin America. Similarly, the French Revolution does not fit well with those across the ocean because it did not involve a colonial struggle.¹¹

The other matter to consider involves the outcomes of the Atlantic revolutions. Why did revolutions that shared similar origins end in starkly different ways? If these are to carry the distinction of being Atlantic in more ways than just geographical and chronological proximity, then it is appropriate to expect them to have unfolded in a similar manner and to have ended in a similar Atlantic outcome. This, however, most certainly did not happen. Susan Dunn's illumination of the differences between the revolutions in France and British America is but one example. Laurent Dubois argues in Avengers of the New World that the intricacies of the racial and social hierarchies were much important to the development of the Haitian and Latin American experiences than the revolutions in France and British America, an observation also made by Richard Graham and Lester Langley.

Comparison studies need to be made to determine why the United States, for the most part, built a social structure using only black and white, while nations to the south included numerous designations for racial blending. Additionally, out of all the Atlantic revolutions, why did Haiti and France experience the most bloodletting? Why did Latin America and Haiti succumb to military dictators? Too much dissimilarity exists to consider "revolution" to be a suitable framework around which to build the Atlantic concept. Moreover, if the Atlantic world cannot be acceptably defined today, it is unlikely that those residents present during its forging considered themselves a part of it. Historians must take great care to avoid putting thoughts into the heads of those they study.¹²

Finally, historians must determine what an Atlantic history must include. Langley does a masterful job comparing the American Revolution with those in Haiti and Latin America, but he admits that he provides a "political rather than social measure" of the revolutions. An Atlantic history must have both. His discussion of course includes references to Africa, Britain, and France, but one cannot not say that he painted an Atlantic picture. Broadening the boundaries of specific histories into Atlantic, or Pacific, or World concepts forces the historian to share his or her field with academics from other disciplines. Matt Matsuda notes that Pacific history, for example, has developed into a "subject dominated not by mainstream academic historians, but rather by anthropologists, ethnohistorians, and often fiction writers, political activists, and artists." One cannot forget to include archaeologists and sociologists as well.¹³

Sharing the field with a wide range of disciplines does, of course, have its benefits. New facts would be uncovered, new discussion would be sparked, and our historical understanding would indeed grow. Nonetheless, without clear boundaries outlining the Atlantic world, it will be extremely difficult to determine the correct amounts of history, sociology, anthropology, and the like that are needed to create an Atlantic approach. Moreover, historians prefer documented evidence whereas those scholars in other disciplines are more comfortable making assertions not always supported by facts that can necessarily be considered concrete. Historians must also be wary of removing the significance from history by broadening it to the point where what is unique no longer matters. It would be easy to lose sight of the rich individuality of a nation's history if all historical experiences are lumped together as "hemispheric" or "world" phenomena. History as a subject has already lost much ground in grade schools to the more current and much broader approaches taken by classes like social studies.

Enough evidence exists to show that the nations of the Atlantic world were connected by more than just the ocean that touched their shores. The Atlantic slave trade alone brought together very disparate climates, cultures, and colors. Yet are these connections enough to justify approaching their histories from an Atlantic perspective? The undefined boundaries of the Atlantic world stand as a major obstacle that must be overcome before that question can be answered positively. Certainly an Atlantic shoreline cannot be an adequate measure of which nations belong to such a world. Where would places like California fit? It belongs to an "Atlantic" nation, but has seen significant "Pacific" influence. These questions would have to be considered before any progress could be made in the field.

Secondly, historians must refrain from seeing an Atlantic world where none existed. If our ancestors did not consider themselves to be part of an Atlantic world, it would be dangerous to discuss their experiences in such a manner. If they saw themselves and others as distinctly African, or French, or Brazilian, what good is it to pretend that they meant something else? It would be wrong to assume that an Atlantic world existed simply because we have created Atlantic history. Moreover, broadening the historical focus may cause us to lose sight of important diversities in the experiences of individual nations. In the end, it is the richness and individuality found in each nation's history that keeps historians employed.

1. Matt K. Matsuda, "The Pacific;" Alison Games, "Atlantic History: Definitions, Challenges, and Opportunities." The articles by Matsuda and Games, as well as that of Horden and Purcell in the following note can all be found in The American Historical Review, June 2006, Vol. 111, No. 3, 722-780. All quotations are taken from the American Historical Review Online. Thus, in this paper, footnotes referring to the three articles will carry no page numbers.

2. Peregrine Horden and Nicholas Purcell, "The Mediterranean and 'the New Thalassology.'"

3. Gordon S. Brown, Toussaint's Clause: the Founding Fathers and the Haitian Revolution (Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 2005), 7.

4. Andrew Jackson O'Shaughnessy, An Empire Divided: the American Revolution and the British Caribbean (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2000), 19.

5. John Thornton, Africa and Africans in the Making of the New World, 1400-1800, 2^nd edition (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998).Richard Graham, Independence in Latin America: a Comparative Approach, 2^nd edition (New York: McGraw-Hill, Inc., 1994), 7.

6. Thornton, Africa and Africans, 129.

7. Simon Schama, Rough Crossings: Britain, the Slaves, and the American Revolution (London: BBC, 2005); Lester D. Langley, the Americas in the Age of Revolution, 1750-1850 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1996).

8. Horden and Purcell, "The Mediterranean;" Matsuda, "The Pacific."

9. Games, "Atlantic History."

10. Bernard Bailyn, Atlantic History: Concepts and Contours (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2005); Bailyn, The Ideological Origins of the American Revolution (Cambridge: Harvard University, 1992).

11. Gary Nash, The Unknown American Revolution: The Unruly Birth of Democracy and the Struggle to Create America (New York: Viking, 2005).

12. Susan Dunn, Sister Revolutions: French Lightning, American Light (New York: Faber and Faber, 1999);Laurent Dubois, Avengers of the New World: The Story of the Haitian Revolution (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2004), 5-6, 70-71; Graham, Independence in Latin America; Langley, The Americas in the Age of Revolution, 106-107, 157.

13. Langley, The Americas in the Age of Revolution, 2; Matsuda, "The Pacific."