Part 2

The most important of the native tribes is the Mandingo, which occupies nearly the whole of the eastern frontier of Liberia. These people are Mahomedans, and their influence extends into the interior of the Continent as far as Soudan. Travelers in Africa agree upon the fact that Mahomedanism is spreading over that land with marvelous strides. I ask your attention to this religious phenomenon in connection with the prospects of Liberia as a Christian community. If you believe that Christianity is to be the religion of the future in Africa, essential not only to her salvation but to her temporal welfare, then I beg you to consider Liberia as an important bulwark against the encroachment of the followers of the Prophet, and as a point from whence to start Christian propagandism into the heart of Africa. Most of the foreign settlements on the Coast are simply trading ports, and the duty of Christianizing the country is lost sight of in the pursuit of gain. Liberia, on the other hand, is a Christian community, established as such. Upon it and upon its friends devolves this positive mission, preaching the Gospel to the heathen. It is our duty to assist her in this mission by every means in our power. Liberia is the initial point for American effort in the Christianization of Africa. The tendency of all the African tribes is to approach the sea; most of the tribal wars are made on this account. To reach the “heach,” as they call it, to open trade with the white man is the great object of their ambition. To occupy the “heach,” therefore, to present there the bold front of Christianity, is to set back the tide of Mahomedanism and to bring within the peaceful influence of Christianity the pagan when, after his struggles, he reaches the sea.

Among the other tribes living in the Liberian territory is the Grebo. This tribe occupies the land in the immediate vicinity of Cape Palmas and is the one now threatening that portion of the Republic with a war of extermination.

I mean no disrespect to the people of Great Britain when I say that the British trader on the Coast of Africa is among the most grasping and unscrupulous of men. He has succeeded the Frenchman, the Spaniard, and the Portuguese, those reckless factors in the prosecution of the slave trade, and substituted a trade in rum, tobacco, and gunpowder, a trade not quite so baneful in its immediate results, but as pernicious as it dares to be in the logic of events. These articles the native is eager to buy and the trader anxious to sell. Year by year the British government, yielding to the demand of the British trader, has increased its possessions upon the Coast either by acquisition from the native Kings, or by purchase from foreign Powers, until it owns 1,500 miles of the African shore. Liberia is now bounded on its northern and southern limits by British territory, but the trader, not content with this stealing as it were in the rear of Liberian settlements with his contraband products, is enticing the willing native to trade in violation of the laws of the Republic, and inducing him to believe that if the poor and defenseless Liberian settler can be driven from his home, the trader can sell his goods without restriction and at half the price; hence this war which is now trying the courage and the resources of the Liberians.

These two tribes, the Mandingos and Grebos, both of them intelligent and aggressive, the one crusaders in the name of Mahomet, and the other warriors in the cause of greed and gain, form the most important elements in the internal economy of the Republic. The destiny of Liberia depends on the conquest of these two opposing forces. Will she? Will she? She must meet and conquer morally and physically these antagonistic ideas or see herself swept into the sea; but I have faith that she will conquer in the name of God and with the aid of America. We know that God will not fail them; let us see to it that America does not fold her arms and turn upon these struggling people the cold shoulder of indifference.

The other tribes that come under the jurisdiction of the Government of Liberia are the Veys, the Pessehs, the Barlines, and the Bassas. The Veys are amongst the most intelligent, and thirty years ago made an alphabet for themselves. Mahomedanism is rapidly spreading among them. None of these have any special significance. They constitute, however, the material nearest at hand for the missionary and the philanthropist.

According to my observation among the heathen, conversion to Christianity is not the work of a moment, it is an influence gradually permeating and pervading, until a community finds itself raised to a higher plane, converted to a nobler faith. This I anticipate will, in a measurable period of time, be the result of the moral influence of the Americo-African upon the surrounding mass of barbarism. One by one its dark superstitions will disappear in the everincreasing light, until in the brightness of mid-day the Sun of Righteousness will cast His beneficent rays on the whole area of that broad and benighted land.

I found the climate of Liberia decidedly improved since my first visit. As the land is cleared miasmatic influences become less fatal. To the native-born Liberian it is as healthful as any tropical country. The emigrant takes his risks as any of us do who migrate from a temperate to a torrid zone. The white man has no business in Africa. “_Similia similibus curantur._” “Like things are cured by like.” To the black man, the Ethiopian, is given the mission of laboring in the vineyard until he comes to his own again. Time enters largely into this problem of regenerating Africa. But it will be done and find its reward in Eternity. Without conflicting with the theories of the savans, I take it upon myself to say that to the white and black races is given the glorious work of rehabilitating the world, each in its own latitude and in its own way.

The Government of Liberia is apparently stable and well administered. It would be an anomaly in political history to find the off-shoot of a republican country establishing for itself any other than a republican form of government; her constitution therefore is similar to our own, containing one proviso, however, to which I wish to draw your attention.

Liberia came into existence as a nation preceded by no war; she was born of no internecine strife, but in harmony with her mission she declared herself free and independent, and was gracefully acknowledged as such by the Great Powers of the world—the mother country alone hesitating to receive as an equal her neglected child—and in an humble and lowly manner, becoming her color and condition, she peacefully and quietly took her back seat in the family of nations. I say that Liberia has a government apparently stable. Compare it, in the twenty-eight years of its existence, with the government of France in its throes with monarchism, pseudo republicanism, imperialism, and communism—“everything by turns and nothing long”—or with that of Spain in its dynastic revolutions. It seems to me that the people of Liberia are in the hands of a guiding Power, which carries them hither and thither, always safely, to the end that they may become the arbiters of the fate of their race, the peaceful conquerors of a new world. I know it is the fashion to deride such pietistic notions, to sneer at such unscientific theories; but, my friends, as I grow older, as I watch the ebbing and flowing of the human tides, as I read of human destiny moulded to serve Divine ends, I feel how insignificant men are in themselves, how great they are in the hands of God. I say that the government has, in the main, been well administered. The _world_, so called, _i. e._, the greed, the superstition, the bigotry, the clannish conservatism, added to the thoughtlessness and the indifference of the world, combine to crush out these abstract notions, these impracticable ideas of the mere philanthropist, to deny the capacity of certain “inferior” races for self-government, to prognosticate failures, to come in with malevolent predictions, to settle the whole matter finally with complacent “I told you so.”

There is no denying that Liberia has had her crisis, that she has trembled on the verge of ruin, that her rulers have made mistakes; but I contend that she has recovered from these shocks with increased stability and without the barbarism of bloodshed. Run your eye over the pages of contemporaneous history, read of the bloody executions, the fusillades in France, count the victims to the garoté in Cuba, number the exiles to Siberia, count the expatriated in New Caledonia—all in the name of order and good government—then turn to the records of our own eventful career or to the modest pages of Liberian history, and tell me which of all the Powers contain within themselves the surest foundations, the best promise of stability and permanence. Like our own, the Government of Liberia is based upon the will of the people, and although sometimes swayed from the path of wisdom by popular clamor, it in the main has been administered for the _good_ of the people. Resting as it is upon education, secular and religious, it possesses a constantly increasing tendency toward perfect excellence and consequent permanence.

I dislike to be considered as a constant apologist, but the Republic of Liberia is on trial, and she needs the services of even so poor a pleader as myself. If we, gentlemen, have _real_ faith in our own institutions, we _must_ also have faith in the institutions of our little sister Republic. And in order to form an unbiased opinion we must lose sight of the question of _color_. Fortunately for the future of Liberia, the homogeneousness of her population removes one of her greatest dangers. In our own country the question of _caste_ is yet to be fought out, and in my opinion upon its result will depend the permanence of our own Government and the stability of our own institutions.

“For in this Union, you have set Two kinds of men in adverse rows— Each loathing each.”

Events are rapidly shaping themselves, and at this present moment we hardly know how swiftly we are approaching the crisis which is to determine the question of color—of equal rights to all men, without regard to color, in the administration of the Government of this country. While, therefore, we remember Liberia, let us not forget ourselves, or the day may come when she can point out to us the fatal rock upon which we split.

I do not apprehend for Liberia dangers from incapacity of her rulers or instability in her institutions. She has had her Roberts, her Benson, her Benedict, and hosts of others, good and true, and she will find their peers in the time of her need. She has her schools and her churches, and under their tuition her next generation will improve upon this as this has upon the last. She will resist the heathen and drive back the Mahomedan. The danger which I _do_ apprehend for her is the danger of _absorption_.

They themselves seem to have had a half-prophetic dread of this absorption. In her earliest days Elijah Johnson, amidst the dangers of a threatened attack by the surrounding savage tribes, being offered a force of marines from a British man-of-war if he would only cede a few feet of land on which to plant a British flag, promptly refused, saying, “We want no flagstaff put up here that would cost more to get down again than it would to whip the natives.” _Now this danger is at their very doors._

A few years ago there was a rage for “internal improvements” in Liberia; $500,000 were borrowed in London, which netted $425,000. This sum was again reduced by paying the first two years’ interest in advance, and then from the remainder was deducted the agents’ commissions, until finally it reached Monrovia in gold and useless goods to the aggregate amount of $200,000, and this residue has disappeared without an “internal improvement.” To use a slang phrase, “We know how it is ourselves.” From Canada to California every town and village in the country has gone through the same experience, but poor Liberia, with an income at the most of $100,000 a year, is unable to pay either principal or interest. She lies at the mercy of her bondholders. England, with her lion’s paw upon the trade of the world, would, and perhaps _will_ eventually, assume the debt for the trifling consideration of possession. It is in fact a mortgage upon the integrity of Liberia. Already England occupies 1,500 miles of the Coast; already she hems in Liberia, the most coveted of all, on the north; already the British trader is encroaching upon her boundaries and stealing in behind her settlements. Slowly and surely the process of absorption will go on to its consummation as the anaconda swallows the kid. England herself is almost powerless to stay it unless we intervene.

I don’t mean by intervention that cold-blooded indifferentism which measures every national emotion with the line and plummet of international law, which restrains within the bounds of obsolete diplomacy every beat of the nation’s heart. I mean the warm, sympathetic intervention which will say to all the world, that, happen what may, the _United States of America will see to it that no power on earth shall obliterate from the map of Africa the infant Republic of Liberia_.

In this centennial year, the proudest anniversary in recorded history, which proclaims in trumpet tones the triumphant fact that a government by the people and for the people is not only the best but the stablest on earth, let us extend to our own offspring the right hand of fellowship, and declare by every legitimate means we will help her forward in that career which has led us to our present proud pre-eminence. In the language of another who visited Liberia at the same time I did, and came away as deeply impressed, “We are bound to help them by all the considerations that have force with men and nations. By interest and by sympathy we are bound. By interest, because Liberia, the only American colony on the West Coast of Africa, once strong and resting under the protection of the American flag, would open to us the inexhaustible riches of Africa, and in so doing would revive the lost glories of American commerce, which, to our national shame and disgrace, has almost faded from the seas. By sympathy, because of the close parallel between their history and our own. Like us, they went forth from a land where they could no longer remain with honor; to battle for the dear sake of freedom, with poverty, with privation, with hostile savages, and with all the thousand difficulties of an unknown and barbarous land. Like us, they struggled, if not with oppression, still under neglect, and, like us, they conquered. Like us, they have declared and maintained themselves a free Republic, and if in less than thirty years of their national existence they have not accomplished all that they desired, the failure has been largely owing to our own indifference to the children whom we sent out from among us, and then left to take care of themselves. Their love for us is strong. Like most strong affections, ill-treatment only seems to augment its force. Their confidence in us, though so abused, is still unabated. Can we, in this their hour of need and danger, coldly pass by on the other side? Surely it has been want of knowledge, not want of interest, that has so long held us supine. Let us make the parallel, so strong in the past, hold good for the future. Let us strengthen the hands of Liberia, that she may be enabled to do for Africa what we have already done for America.”

Fortunately, we _can_ intervene in the cause of Liberia, if requested so to do by her government. Article 8, of the treaty between the United States of America and Liberia, concluded at London, October 21, 1862, says:

“The United States Government engages never to interfere, unless solicited by the Government of Liberia, in the affairs between the aboriginal inhabitants and the Republic of Liberia in the jurisdiction and territories of the Republic. Should any United States citizens suffer loss, in person or property, from violence by the aboriginal inhabitants, and the Government of the Republic of Liberia should not be able to bring the aggressor to justice, the United States Government engages, a requisition having been first made therefor by the Liberian Government, to lend such aid as may be required. Citizens of the United States residing in the territories of the Republic of Liberia are desired to abstain from all such intercourse with the aboriginal inhabitants as will tend to the violation of law and a disturbance of the peace of the country.”

I violate no official propriety when I inform you that in all probability a ship of war is now on her way to Liberia for the purpose of protecting American interests, and of aiding the authorities, if so requested, in the suppression of insurrection among the natives. That this intervention will be effectual not only in suppressing the natives, but indirectly in suppressing the zeal of the white traders, I have not the slightest doubt. This assistance to Liberia is of a temporary nature; what she needs and what _we_ need is a permanent naval force on her Coast, and she has almost a right to demand it; for Liberia is our only colony, the only off-shoot of the parent stem, the only American outpost on the confines of barbarism; it is our duty to protect her for the sake of our institutions and for the sake of our religion.

I therefore propose that the Government be requested to establish a line of mail steamers, to consist of the smallest class of naval vessels, half-manned and half-armed, to run monthly between any designated port in the United States and Liberia, touching on that Coast at Monrovia and Cape Palmas, and coaling each way at Porto Grande, Cape de Verde Islands. These vessels to retain the character of men-of-war, and to carry no passengers except officials of either government.

The distance from Norfolk to Monrovia is about 4,000 miles; the quantity of coal required for each round voyage would be about 320 tons, aggregating for a monthly service about 4,000 tons per annum. These ships could perform this duty at a cost for coal of about $50,000.

A law of Congress appropriating this amount and authorizing the President to employ the vessels on this duty would be a great point gained for Liberia, by insuring a regular mail communication, and by having constantly on the Coast one or other of these ships of war.

It is no new thing for men-of-war to be employed in this service. England commenced her foreign postal system in this way, which, subsequently taken up by private companies, now ramifies over the globe and touches every port. The same result would follow in this case. The merchantman would follow the man-of-war, and thus the initial step would be taken in securing the trade of Liberia to our own country. I see no other way at present of inaugurating a direct trade with Liberia; for our commercial pride has fallen so low, and our capital has become so timid, that it dares not and cares not to venture upon the sea. It is in vain that we appeal to patriotism; it is in vain that we utter the truism that no nation can be truly great without an external commerce. Our merchants cross the sea, and point with complacency to the foreign flag waving over their heads, and bring back their goods in foreign bottoms, without any sense of the shame that ensues.

It would also be utilizing the navy, which, in time of peace, could find no nobler employment. It would, indeed, be but a continuation of the aid which the Navy has heretofore given to Liberia, and a new title to its claim of guardianship.

I submit this proposition to you, gentlemen, for your consideration, and, if it meets with your approval, I suggest that you endeavor to put it into practicable shape during the present session of Congress.

The Government of the United States can give to Liberia no material aid. We cannot pay her debts nor fight her battles. We _can_ throw over her the mantle of our protection. We can say that we will not see her absorbed by any European Power, nor obliterated by any savage horde; but, after all, Liberia must work out her own salvation.

“Who would be free—themselves must strike the blow.”

So I would say to Liberians: The history of your country is full of instances of heroism in conflict with savages; of suffering from scarcity of food; of endurance of the effects of climate—full, I say, of instances of heroism and self-denial on the part of your predecessors. Learn from their history to practice their virtues now.

Thirty years ago Commodore Perry cautioned the colonists against a growing timidity, a tendency to rely upon others for the defense of their lives and property. He advised them to build blockhouses as _our_ forefathers did in the olden time; to become accustomed to the use of arms, to organize at every settlement, and learn not only to repel attack but to assume the offensive, thereby instilling into the surrounding savages that wholesome fear which is the greatest safeguard.

Be brave also in the face of nature as well as in the face of the native; attack your forests, clear away the wilderness before you. Agriculture is the handmaid of commerce. You cannot have one without the other. The tiller of the soil is the nobleman of the land. From the bosom of mother earth comes the chief real wealth of the nation.

Bear the burden of your national debt cheerfully. For this purpose submit to taxation; remember that repudiation of the debt would be followed by extinction, and that your failure as a nation would throw you back into the confused heap of mistakes which the world would willingly attribute to the imbecility of your race. You _must_ carry this load upon your shoulders. Consider what a load of debt this parent country of yours is carrying for the sake of your race, for the vindication of your title as Liberians—free men!

End of Project Gutenberg's The American Navy and Liberia, by R. W. Shufeldt