www.dailysignal.com
Frederick Douglass’ Conservative Populism
On July 5, 1852, in Rochester, New York, Frederick Douglass delivered one of the most important speeches in American history—and one of the most misunderstood.
When “What to the Slave Is the Fourth of July?” is remembered today, it is usually for the righteous anger of its middle section. Douglass was one of the nation’s foremost orators for a reason. His withering indictment of 1850s Americans’ acceptance of and complicity in the institution of slavery can still fire readers’ souls more than a century and a half later. Anti-American leftists love it.
But all Americans today—and conservatives in particular—should not let the rest of Douglass’ speech disappear down a woke memory hole.
For “What to the Slave Is the Fourth of July?” is not just the greatest anti-slavery speech of the 19th century. It is one of the greatest patriotic, populist, constitutionalist speeches in American history. And 21st-century conservatives should proudly adopt Douglass’ address as one of our movement’s canonical texts.
Douglass opens his remarks with a paean to America’s Founding Fathers. For paragraph after paragraph, he extols their courage, courtesy, wisdom, statesmanship, and manliness.
“The signers of the Declaration of Independence,” Douglass says, “were brave men. They were great men, too—great enough to give frame to a great age.”
A lesser rhetorician might have built up the Founders only to bolster their credibility as witnesses for the prosecution against their slavery-indulging descendants. But Douglass’ argument is more subtle and powerful. Before he ever contrasts the Founders with his own generation, Douglass contrasts them with the shameful, self-serving establishment of theirs.
“The timid and the prudent … of that day,” Douglass says, “were, of course, shocked and alarmed by” the revolutionaries’ zeal. Then, as ever, the world teemed with “practical” men who would rather profit from injustice than fight it. “They hate all changes, but silver, gold and copper change! Of this sort of change they are always strongly in favor.”
When the Continental Congress declared America’s independence, it was “to the dismay of the lovers of ease, and the worshipers of property.”
The American revolutionaries, Douglass says, “loved their country better than their own private interests,” siding “with the right against the wrong, with the weak against the strong, and with the oppressed against the oppressor.” For this, colonial elites unwilling to make the same choice branded patriots as “plotters of mischief, agitators and rebels, dangerous men.”
When Douglass turns to his own era, and the moral crisis of slavery, he maintains this populist perspective. Amidst the speech’s unsparing condemnation of American slavery, he nonetheless continually singles out elites for their singular role in its perpetuation.
He condemns slavery’s commercial profiteers—“millions are pocketed every year by dealers in this horrid traffic.”
“The flesh mongers,” Douglass reminds his northern audience, were not shabby, snarling clay-eaters but cultured sophisticates: “well dressed men, and very captivating in their manners; ever ready to drink, to treat, and to gamble.”
Douglass similarly indicts the nation’s religious elites (“its most eloquent Divines”), including several by name, for their unwillingness to risk their privileged status by denouncing slavery. Theirs, Douglass charges, “is a religion which favors the rich against the poor; which exalts the proud above the humble; which divides mankind into two classes, tyrants and slaves; which says to the man in chains, stay there; and to the oppressor, oppress on.”
Finally, Douglass takes aim at the nation’s political class, which had just enacted the Fugitive Slave Law two years prior—again in populist terms. He condemns the new statute’s authors for conscripting the American people into their inhumanity: “Your law-makers have commanded all good citizens to engage in this hellish sport.”
Douglass then turns from his famous condemnation of slavery to a less remembered, but no less stirring, defense of the Constitution: a “glorious liberty document” that is “entirely hostile to the existence of slavery.”
Finally, Douglass closes his remarks on an optimistic note, associating God’s will with the march of moral progress across the Republic:
“The fiat of the Almighty, ‘Let there be Light,’ has not yet spent its force. No abuse, no outrage whether in taste, sport or avarice, can now hide itself from the all-pervading light.”
“What to the Slave Is the Fourth of July?” was a classic of American rhetoric the moment it was delivered. There had never been a speech like it. There hasn’t been one since.
It is as American as the Declaration of Independence, as Christian as Lincoln’s Second Inaugural, as constitutionalist as the Federalist Papers, as patriotic as “The Star-Spangled Banner,” as populist as Bryan’s “Cross of Gold,” and as conservative as Ronald Reagan’s “A Time for Choosing.”
The speech affirms America’s founding ideals—enshrined in the Constitution—and urges every new generation of “we the people” to defend those ideals against elite conspiracies to weaponize, compromise, and undermine them.
Slavery, Jim Crow, and Roe v. Wade were the most monstrous examples. But the same elitist temptations gave us the Whiskey Tax, the corruptions of the Second Bank of the United States, Freemasonry, Gilded Age corporatism, Woodrow Wilson’s proto-fascism, the New Deal’s segregationism, anti-anti-communism, and the Warren Court during the Cold War. Today, it gives us open borders, globalism, and woke-ism.
Conservatives today should read Frederick Douglass’ speech, study it, and arm ourselves with it—that our fight to save America might be as successful as his.