>> From the Library of
Congress in Washington, DC. >> Good afternoon. Can you all here me all right? I'm Ted Widmer, I'm
the brand new Director of the John W. Kluge Center. I want to welcome you all to LJ119
on a day in which we will talk about history, we're also
experiencing some history across the street. I just checked my laptop and the
Health Bill just passed 217 to 213. There was a quote last night from a
wavering Republican, Thomas Massie, Congressman of Kentucky who said,
"This bill is like a kidney stone. The House doesn't care what
happens to it as long as it passes" and it just passed, so if
you hear yelps of pain coming from across the street that
may actually be Senators because it's now heading
over to their side of the Capitol, but
it just happened. We have a very exciting event today. We will be considering
Church and State, Moments of Crisis in
American History. Before we get underway, I
want to say a few words. First of all, if you can
silence your cellphones and other electric devices,
these proceedings will be filmed for the Library of Congress and
the Kluge Center websites as well as for our YouTube and
iTunes U channels and I want to also mention a few
upcoming talks. On May 16 at four, our
Burkhardt Fellow Shaden Tageldin, from the University of Minnesota
will be speaking here towards a transcontinental theory of
modern comparative literature. On May 18, downstairs in the
Coolidge Auditorium, Elaine Chao, the Secretary of Transportation
and Reed Hastings, the CEO of Netflix will be leading
a very interesting conversation on service and idealism. That's part of a tribute
to the Peace Corps and to the 100th anniversary
of the birth of John F. Kennedy so that's Coolidge Auditorium
at 6:30 on May 18th and then on this room again on May
25th, Professor Jose Casanova of Georgetown who was until
very recently Kluge Chair in the Countries and Cultures
of the South, will be speaking on early modern globalization
through a Jesuit prism. The Kluge Center was
created in the year 2000, 17 years ago through a generous gift from the philanthropist
John W. Kluge. Every year it brings nearly
100 scholars to these rooms to do research in the
great library here. True to the original founding letter
that created the Kluge Center, we bring in the words of James
Billington, the former Librarian of Congress, "Doers and thinkers." We have a rich community
of scholars who come here but we also are doing a great deal
to reach out across the street to Congress and I'll be talking
about that more during our meetings with the Scholars Council
over the next two days. Among other things, we
award the Kluge Prize. We're anticipating an
awarding of that prize in 2018, it's the major prize offered
by the Library of Congress. Previous recipients include
Fernando Enrique Cardozo, the former President of Brazil
in 2012, and John Hope Franklin, the great African-American
historian in 2006. I mention the Scholars Council and
they are among us today and we're so happy to welcome them. I went this morning to
a history presentation at the White House Historical
Association in Lafayette Park and the topic was the
early influence of France, in the very beginning even
before the White House was built in the administration of George
Washington and there was a feeling that gravitas was much needed in
the early years of the republic. And so, George Washington and
Martha Washington would have levees in which they would invite prominent
intellectuals to just settle things down when politics
weren't going that well, and that's a tradition we keep going
here at the Library of Congress with our Scholars Council
and we're so grateful to them for coming literally from around
the world to bring us their wisdom and their connectivity
to the outside world. They bring us a great
deal of prestige. We have former winners of the
Pulitzer, the Holberg Prize, the Balzan Prize, the Guggenheim,
Fulbright, many other prizes and they also bring many tangible
ideas that we put into practice and I want to thank today two
members of our Scholars Council who will be leaving after this year. One of them, Roger Louis, I'd like
to thank later tonight but I want to mention Pauline Yu who is
among us, because she is flying out immediately after this
panel to go to Bloomington, Indiana where she will be
the commencement speaker at Indiana University and is
receiving an honorary degree. She's the President of the American
Council of Learned Societies, an organization that unites
74 scholarly organizations and unites them often
far more successfully than the federal government unites
the 50 states and she's brought so many ideas to the Kluge
Center including in 2008, she brought the idea of
the Burkhardt Fellowships and we've had 11 in disciplines
ranging from law to literature and history and they're
a wonderful contribution to our community so
thank you Pauline. I know Dan Turello is here and he
has a gift from the Kluge Center to Pauline Yu on behalf of
all of us so please join me in thanking Pauline
Yu for her service. [ Applause ] >> I mentioned at the beginning of these remarks what an exciting
day it is in politics in Washington. We're going to study
another form of public debate that has roiled the republic
since its earliest days, how religion touches
our daily life here in Washington and around
the country. It wasn't that much noted
in the media this morning as they were rushing to
cover today's healthcare vote but it's also a day in which
President Trump is asking for well, he's issuing an executive order that will relax the
so-called Johnson Amendment, which was a law passed by
Lyndon Johnson in 1954, prohibiting religious organizations
from overt political activity for fear of tax consequences
if they did that and that is also changing today. Today is the National Day of Prayer
at the White House and last night, President Trump met with his
evangelical advisory board and that's a group of people who
only a year ago were not very happy with the candidacy
of President Trump. These things change very
quickly and at the meeting I went to this morning about
the very early republic, it was clear that what we might
call evangelical in the first decade of the republic was really
coming from New England and from the supporters
of Vice President and then President John Adams, so these alignments change
substantially from generation to generation and we're very lucky
to have three leading thinkers today to help us consider three
different moments when religion and politics intertwined. We will begin with Sally
Barringer Gordon, who will tell us about the way James Madison was
thinking about the separation of church and state even before
the famous first amendment to the Constitution. Sally is the Arlin M. Adams
Professor of Constitutional Law and Professor of History at
the University of Pennsylvania, an expert on religion in American
public life and the law of church and state, especially how
religious liberty developed over the course of American history. Her current book project, Freedom's
Holy Light, Disestablishment in America 1776 to 1876, is about the historical relationships
among religion, politics, and law and I'm expecting, I have not
quite been able to announce this but she will soon be
joining our community as a member of the Kluge Center. Next, Peter Manseau will be
speaking on the year 1860, and the forgotten voices of
American religious diversity. He's the Lilly Endowment Curator
of the American Religious History at the Smithsonian Institution's
National Museum of American History, the author of six books including
the memoir Vows, the novel Songs for the Butcher's Daughter,
the travelogue Rag and Bone, and the retelling of America's
diverse spiritual formation, One Nation Under Gods. I only just met Peter but I feel
an immediate kinship with him because during a fellowship
he held in Chesterton, Maryland he lived in
my former house. And last, we're really lucky to have
a member of our Scholar's Council, John Witte, who will be speaking on
the year 1947, and the Supreme Court in the modern era of
Constitutional religious freedom. John is the Robert W.
Woodruff Professor of Law and McDonald Distinguished Professor
and Director for the Center of the Study of Law and
Religion at Emory University. He's a specialist in legal history,
marriage law and religious liberty. He's the author of 26 books and 220
articles, that's not a typo, 220. His writings have appeared in 12
languages, he's received honors around the world and he's
a former holder of the Cary and Anne McGuire Chair in Ethics
and American History so each of these three panelists
will speak for 20 minutes. At 4:20 roughly, we'll
take a five minute break and then we will open it to audience
questions so thank you again for being here today
and why don't we begin by welcoming Sally
Barringer Gordon to the stage? Thank you. [ Applause ] >> Thank you so much. Is this too loud, okay, good? Okay well my talk today, I'm sorry
to say it's not about Madison but it is about religion and
slavery in 1785, and it does focus on Virginia and Virginia,
as many people here know, has long been considered the
most important jurisdiction to disestablish in
the early republic. I hope to persuade you that a
single anti-slavery Methodist and many pro-slavery
Presbyterians were actually crucial to disestablishment in Virginia. I explore two streams of political
activism among lay Virginians that have not previously
been studied together. My story centers on two preachers. Church men are not the only, or
even the only important actors in the story, but through
their sermons, lectures, and journals we can learn about the
common folks who's traces otherwise don't appear in the
historical record. First is this guy, who I described
on the way up as an upstart Brit. The cherubic little
man, Thomas Coke, who was born into a prosperous
English family in 1747, educated at Oxford, and
ordained as a Priest in the Church of England in 1770. He came under the influence of
John Wesley's evangelical Methodism in 1776 and Coke began
preaching in fields, a good sign in North America,
a very bad sign in Britain. Influential parishioners
at his church objected. A new Priest was secretly hired. Coke was suddenly dismissed
while standing up to preach on Easter Sunday 1777, and
he was wrung out of church like being drummed
out of the military. He strode down the center aisle as
the bells pealed and was greeted by a mob outside who were already
drunk on cider but he rebounded. He became John Wesley's confidante,
drafted much of his correspondence, and all the Methodist
petitions to Parliament. In September 1784, Wesley
ordained Coke as a Bishop for the rapidly growing
American branch of the movement. Coke left quickly for America
when his fellow clergy accused him of exercising undue influence
over a senile Wesley. In December 1784, he arrived
in America and began the work of organizing a new, separate
Methodist church here. In early 1785, Coke
drafted new rules for the church in a
book of discipline. Coke's rules were designed
to eradicate slavery. He included provisions that copied
Virginia's Manumission statue that allowed masters to free
slaves in the Commonwealth. That statute had been enacted
in 1782, and by early 1785, had produced Manumissions
but also dedicated opposition from a pro-slavery majority. Coke took Manumission
a step further. He required that all church
members manumit their slaves within two years or be denied
communion and eventually expelled. After the church was formed
and its discipline written, Coke left on a preaching
tour of Virginia. From February to April 1785, he sermonized against the
unchristian act of slave holding. He reported in his
journal repeatedly that he was greeted by
outrage and violence. When he preached near Norfolk
and here I'm quoting from him, "A high headed lady offered 50
pounds to anyone who would give that little Englishman 100 lashes." At another house, Coke debated
slavery with a Colonel Bedford who, "Used some threats" and as Coke's
reputation spread, doors were closed against him, he was
indicted for sedition and at least one plan was formed
to murder him but he left the state in May, before the law or the
assassins could catch up with him. But he left behind an
antislavery petition, which he gave to itinerant
Methodist evangelists to carry around Virginia. In the petition, Coke
called for the legislature to abolish the grand
abomination of slavery. He argued that slaveholders acted
against the most fundamental goal of Christianity, the
return of the Messiah. He said that enslavement made it
virtually impossible for a slave to receive the noble
principles of the Gospel meaning that slaveholders actively
prevented Christian progress. The boldness of Coke's claims
might well cause an uproar because he argued that anyone who
owned a slave was anti-Christian and the tone deaf Coke added
another insult, a political one. As an Englishman, he should
have known that his opinions on the American Revolution might
not be well received in Virginia. None the less, his petition
claimed that, and here I'm quoting, "The oppression exercised over slaves exceeds the
oppression formerly exercised over these states by Great Britain." These were fighting
words and William Graham, our second preacher,
picked up the gauntlet. Graham was born in 1746,
in Paxton, Pennsylvania. His family were Scott's Irish
covenanters, that is Presbyterians who still remembered the
brutal British suppression of the Scottish rebellion
in the 17th century. Graham hated the British and
maintained a lifelong sympathy for populist vigilante movements. In many senses, this guy
Graham was Coke's opposite. He was hatchet faced and
lanky, not a gifted speaker. His sermons were monotonous and
he was a strict disciplinarian. His congregations tended to be small
but he excelled as a schoolmaster, where his discipline was
imposed on less powerful objects. The school he founded was first
known as the Liberty Hall Academy and now Washington
and Lee University. It was successful, but it never
made him much money, which brings us to my next point, the
question of minister's salaries and how the debate over tax support
for preachers eventually blended in to the backlash
against Thomas Coke. In December 1784, Patrick
Henry proposed a bill that would require each taxpayer
to designate a portion of his taxes to a Christian minister
of his choice. This general assessment bill, as it
was called, seemed like a good idea to Henry and others, who worried
about a decline in church attendance and the closing of schools
maintained by the established Church of England clergy, many of whose
churches had been looted during the revolution and whose tax support
had been suspended since 1776. By 1784, the church
was in free fall. Presbyterians were
actually sympathetic. Graham often wrote petitions to the
Virginia General Assembly on behalf of the church and now he
co-authored an endorsement of the assessment bill. Graham had been dismayed by
enlightenment deism which I'm sorry to tell you Ted, he
called the French Principle but equally important, Graham's
income had suffered terribly during the revolution even though
he was an ardent patriot. He was so patriotic that one
Sunday sermon he used to call for volunteers to fight
against the British and he wound up keying himself up so
much he volunteered himself. He never saw action but he boasted
of his service to the revolution for the rest of his life. Yet, the conflict impoverished him
because all his students went off to fight and the end of the war
only brought a deep recession. Patrick Henry's general assessment
bill gave him the prospect of a steady income but Graham soon
learned that the Presbytian laity, his congregants, would not
stand for a general assessment. They had been used to controlling
the salaries of ministers and they objected that Henry's bill
would free clergy from lay control. Graham was not known to
back away from a fight, he was quite a pugilist, and he
might well have stood his ground on the general assessment bill
but slavery entered the picture. Coke appeared on the scene just after Graham's pro-assessment
petition was submitted. Coke of course, was British,
elite, arrogant, plump, tailor-made to be Graham's chew toy. The threat to slavey from
Coke affected Graham directly. He owned six slaves, according
to the census of 1790, and his school Liberty
Hall also owned slaves. By the mid-spring of 1785, in
other words coinciding exactly with Coke's tour, it sounds
so funny Coke's tour right, because there's a [inaudible]
but it's a different Coke. By the mid-spring of 1785, Graham's
about face on disestablishment was so complete that Presbyterians
selected him once again to draft a petition, this one, a full-throated call
for disestablishment. Now, Graham argued that patriots had
fought against British oppression in spirituals as well as temporals,
that it was a religious war and that continued establishment
would be a fatal symbol of what he called abject slavery. For the first time, a
religious organization, the Presbyterian Church,
directly called for passage of Thomas Jefferson's bill for
establishing religious freedom, which had been kicking
around the legislature for years without much support. All of a sudden, in
1785, popular support for disestablishment took off. The traditional explanation
(gesture to Ted) is that smart Parliamentary maneuvering
by James Madison deserves credit but I want us to think about
another side of the story, the missing link is Thomas
Coke's anti-slavery campaign, which convinced Graham and others
of a link between pro-slavery and pro-disestablishment or
anti-slavery and pro-establishment, they're flip sides of the same coin. Graham explained how
separation of church and state would protect slavery. He also became the first clergyman
and the first academic leader to speak out in favor
of slavery and he did so clearly in response to Coke. In a lecture that Graham
gave at Liberty Hall starting in the mid-1780s, he explained why
Virginia must embrace both slavery and disestablishment and how
each reinforced the other. Not only had the revolution been
fought to secure slavery he said, but now a tool of the British
administration meaning our pale Coke, had undertaken to reverse the
American victory, hiding his plot to destroy the country
behind the veil of piety. Graham answered Coke in an
equally religious register. The word of God, Graham said,
directly contradicted the Methodists and as Coke's petition was
carried around the Commonwealth by Methodist itinerants, Graham and
pro-slavery petitions outpaced them, drawing many hundreds, about
1,500 evangelical signatures and dwarfing the few dozen
on the anti-slavery petition. The pro-slavery petitions track
Graham's lecture almost word for word. The central argument was that
Christian scripture did not in any sense condemn
slavery and that any attempt to interpret either the
Old or New Testaments as anti-slavery would
pervert the word of God. Instead, scripture instructed that
religious status such as conversion to Christianity in no way altered
civil status such as enslavement. The liberty conferred by Christian
faith was an internal freedom from sin and the devil
rather than any change in the believer's outward condition. Paul's First Letter to the
Corinthians established that even Christian
slaves were to remain loyal and obedient to their masters. Colonial statues had written
this into law as early as 1677. Conversion was not a
ticket to emancipation. In other words, spiritual freedom
and bodily coercion belonged to two distinct spheres, the
first inward and religious and the second outward
and political. These scriptural arguments
were made with new force to counter the Methodists, who charged that bondage affected
the spiritual health of slaveholders and urged changes in the
secular law to save the souls of masters as well as slaves. The danger to slavery was apparent
and Graham and others realized that antislavery religion had
been let loose in Virginia. Under the general assessment
bill, just to give one example, tax dollars could well flow to
antislavery ministers either because the individual taxpayers
directed the funds to preachers who opposed slavery or the ministers
who received tax funding acted at the behest of church
leaders like Coke. A religious establishment
therefore posed a danger. Separation of church and state in
Virginia was built on this distrust of clergy, who were not dependent
directly on local congregations, set them free from their congregants
and who knows what would happen. Evidence for this overlap
in commitments to slavery and disestablishment is
found in the signatures on both sets of petitions. That is, pro-establishment
and proslavery. We can trace the political
actions of the laity through this unique resource. Five of the six counties
that memorialized in favor of slavery also sent
pro-disestablishment petitions. Common signatures are found in
about 40 percent of the total, a remarkable convergence of
religious and political activism. In his convergence, religious
conviction was painted as private and personal while enslavement
rested firmly on the political side that is, with the legislature. One might think of this
resolution as a kind of compromise, proslavery evangelicals apparently
believed they could buy peace by parking slavery in
the political realm. They told themselves that they
were neutral or apolitical on the question even as their
doctrine of the division between religion and politics
clearly protected a proslavery status quo and the system worked. It silenced antislavery voices
quickly and effectively. Thomas Coke conceded in 1787,
that it had been ill judged of him to preach antislavery from
the pulpit and in 1791, the Hanover Presbyterian
(we saw a picture of their beautiful church) decided that enslaved persons could be
married in the sight of God, even though the civil law would
not recognize their relationship. But if one of the spouses
was sold away from the other, then the marriage was dissolved
as if the other was dead. Baptists also endorses a death
or removal standard saying that any other policy might
yield unpleasant things. Such marriages were a
potentially enormous issue. One study concluded
that one out of three of all slave marriages
was terminated by the internal slave
trade, that's a lot. Acceptance of the divide
between freedom of the spirit and the physical coercion of slavery
also spread among the Methodists. By the mid-1790s, they
had backed away from their emancipatory
rules saying now that they hoped Christian faith
would sweeten the bitter cup of bondage. Some white evangelicals objected
including one Methodist minister in the 1790s who said that human
laws could not wash away the guilt of an act prohibited
by the word of God. But his son, also a Methodist
minister, became a slaveholder. So where does this story of
freedom and coercion leave us? It's a different picture
of disestablishment, maybe a little less heroic
but believable in light of religious history and
political reality and of course, there's the question of Jefferson. What did he think? He was out of the country in 1785, but he also followed
the debate closely. Did he accept the divide
between freedom and coercion? It looks like he did 20 years later. A clue from 1815 is found in a
letter he wrote to a correspondent who had sent him a book of sermons by the Reverend Alexander
MacLeod of New York. MacLeod called for
preaching on politics, especially in opposition to slavery. In his letter, Jefferson thanked
his correspondent for the book but then said that MacLeod
had breached the contract that underlay religious freedom by discussing public
affairs in the pulpit. He advised ministers to avoid
such topics as the construction of government or the
characters or conduct of those administering it otherwise, they would violate the
terms of disestablishment. We're seeing a similar debate
today right, flipping that. But despite Virginia's outsized
importance in the early republic, it didn't actually control how other
jurisdictions interpreted their own law. The Virginia model, as it was
called in the 19th century, never governed separation of
church and state as perfectly as Virginia's secular thinkers and proslavery Christians
hoped it would. Instead, the mandate to
consign concerns about slavery to the political sphere began
to create its own politics. Those who could not stand the
constraint often left and many who had no other choice
were sold away. Some found their way
to freedom and those who had left voluntarily
still resented the strictures. Over time, the strict
divide between religion and slavery began to
work its own undoing. The end of that story is beyond the
scope of my talk today but one way to summarize the trajectory
is to note that the first wall of separation was all about power, but it wound up not
being all powerful. Thank you. [ Applause ] >> Thank you Sally, that
was somewhat mind blowing and thank you Ted, for
the earlier introduction. It's wonderful to be here with you. My name is Peter Manseau. I work down the road at the
National Museum of American History where I'm the Curator of
American Religious History and this is my first time
speaking in a building where I've done quite
a lot of research so it's truly an honor to be here. I would like to speak with
you a bit today about religion in America before the
Civil War and one way in which the subject is often
addressed has a lot of resonance with Sally's talk, it
often is explored as a way of exploring the tensions
among Christians about the place of
slavery in scripture. How was it that some religious
people saw it as an abomination like our Reverend Coke we just
heard about, while others argued as Texas did in its
causes for secession that African servitude was
authorized and revealed by the revered will of
the almighty creator? Well, that religion can be
used to argue both sides of an issue will not be a surprise
to anyone here today I imagine and so instead of pursing that
dimension, I'd like instead to focus on a lesser known aspect of
religion in America in the middle of the 19th century and that
is the struggle and endurance of forgotten forms of
American religious diversity. The landscape of American
religious difference in the US changed dramatically
in the 1860s. Some of this had to do with the
war and some of it simply had to do with the ways in which the lines
between religious traditions tend to blur over time yet before
I get there to my main topic, since this is my first time
speaking in the Library of Congress, I can't resist telling you
one of my favorite stories about a disagreement
concerning religious differences in American history. It's a story that actually
has to do with the founding of this great institution. As many of you will likely
know and as I heard someone, a tour guide giving a tour about
this just as I was walking in, the founding collection of
the Library of Congress came from Monticello to Washington 202
years ago this spring in the form of 6,487 books that
Thomas Jefferson had sold to the federal government near
the end of the War of 1812. Congress had a reference
collection before that of course, but it was a little
less than half the size and those 3,000 books
had gone up in smoke when the British burned
Washington in August of 1814. Jefferson had been retired
for five years by then and so he didn't get a briefing
on the fact that the White House, the Capitol and other
federal buildings had been all but destroyed. Instead, he learned about it as many
of us might have, he read about it in the newspaper and apparently
one of the first things he thought about when he learned of the
destruction were all those books in the Capitol, all that
paper that fueled the fire. Wondering what he might do
about it and perhaps considering if this sad turn of events
might also free up some space in his own over-burdened
bookshelves, Jefferson wrote to a friend on the
Congressional Library Committee and he basically said, so I
hear you might need some books. What he actually wrote was this,
"I learned from the newspapers that the vandalism of our enemy has
triumphed at Washington over science as well as the arts by the
destruction of the public library with a noble edifice in
which it was deposited. I presume it will be among the
earliest objects of Congress to re-commence their collection." Jefferson was beating
around the bush a bit here. He was clearing his throat before
making Congress an offer he hoped they could not refuse. As he then explained,
like a true salesman, the books he had available
were the best in the land. They were the best because
only he had had the resources and the time throughout his
life to do the kind of research and travel necessary to acquire
a significant collection. He proudly noted that he had spent
much of his time as US Minister to France shopping for books. While residing in Paris, he
said, he devoted every afternoon to examining all the principle
bookstores, turning over every book with his own hands, apparently
unconcerned if anyone would wonder if he was also doing his job,
Jefferson sent this letter off to Washington and those 6,487
books soon followed on 10 wagons that traveled more than
100 miles over bumpy roads. But their journey from
that Virginia hilltop to Capitol Hill was far from simple. In between Jefferson's letter in the
fall and the loading of the wagons in the spring, his books became
the focus of a remarkable debate. It raged in the press and
in Congress for months. It's subject was the possibly
atheistical character of the library and of the man who had acquired it. It was said that Jefferson's
books were full of infidel ideas, ideas that might infect the
nation if they were allowed into the halls of government. With the smoke of British arson
still lingering over Washington, some members of Congress even
discussed burning the offending titles in Jefferson's library to avoid potential
spiritual contamination. This campaign was led by a
federalist representative from my home state of Massachusetts,
Representative Cyrus King, who argued that evidence Jefferson's
collection contained "Many books of irreligious and immoral
tendency could be found not only in the character of the man who's
assembled it, but in the fact that he had done so in France." Other congressmen found King's talk
of book burning too much to take. Representative James Fiske of
Vermont, a democratic republican like Jefferson, reminded his
colleagues that King came from a state once known for hanging
witches and he wondered whether that practice might be reintroduced. Maryland's Representative
Robert Wright asked King if he wanted to start
an inquisition. To this charge, King replied
that he had no such intention, at least not while his
party was in the minority. In the end, party politics
ruled the day. By a slim margin, the democratic
republican majority approved the purchase. Now, I mentioned this story
first of all as a reminder that Americans have been struggling with overheated rhetoric
surrounding religious difference for a very long time and maybe
we should count ourselves lucky that we don't hear much talk of hanging witches or
burning books lately. Not lately. Yet the truly fascinating thing
to me about this moment is this, while in Washington, Jefferson's
tastes seemed eclectic to the point of being threatening, in fact
they barely scratched the surface of the actual religious diversity
that existed beyond the Capitol. While government was arguing over
religious ideas, it was oblivious to many forms of religious
practice then found in the US. For example, among the
best known books included in that original Jefferson
collection which came to the Library of Congress was this one,
Jefferson's 1734 edition of the Koran, which remains
here in the library today. Now, Jefferson's Koran is often
put forward as a symbol of some of the founding generations
curiosity about a variety of religious perspectives and
on the one hand it's appropriate to see it that way. Jefferson bought the book while
he was a young man studying law and he may have read it as
a way to make himself aware of Islam's influence on some
of the world's legal systems. Yet, viewing Jefferson's Koran
only as an American engagement with far off exotic beliefs
obscures a crucial fact. To many people living then
in Jefferson's young nation, this book meant very much more. As Jefferson's library rolled
north and his Koran went with it, this man was a 45-year-old resident
of Fayetteville, North Carolina. His name is Omar ibn Said. In 1815, he had been in this
country just eight years, all of them under the yoke of
a master he called a cruel man and a kefyr, which means an infidel. After he was recaptured following
an attempt to escape from slavery, Omar ibn Said was locked
inside the County Jail in Cumberland County,
North Carolina. By this point, it was
no longer legal to directly import human beings from
Africa and so for many residents of Fayetteville, it may have been
unusual to see a man who maintained so many of the traditions of
the land where he was born. Now, while locked in his jail cell
in Fayetteville, Omar ibn Said began to draw a crowd first for his quiet
and some said mysterious demeanor, then for the strange way in which he
prayed five times a day and finally, for the graffiti that he began
to put on his jail cell walls. Apparently, he had found some
coals from a warming fire that were large enough to
write with and he began to fill his jail cell
walls with Arabic script, most likely it was
verses from the Koran. As his story became known, it emerged that he had once
been a religious teacher. He had been 37 years old when he was
captured in what was now Senegal. After his time in jail, Omar
ibn Said became the property of a prominent local political
family, which encouraged him to convert to Christianity
and soon persuaded him to write an account of his life. Through the decades that followed,
this family was successful in publicizing their successful
conversion of their enslaved man and they placed articles about
him throughout the United States. In 1825, a Philadelphia Christian
paper told the story of his time in jail, which recounted his filling
the walls with Arabic graffiti and it also relayed how he had
been brought to his new faith. In 1837, an article in the Boston
Reporter hailed him as a convert from Mohammedism and it
devoted two full columns to his Christian virtues. In 1854, a reporter
wrote that he had, "Thrown aside the blood
stained Koran and now worships at the feet of the Prince of Peace." In all of this, it was claimed
that though he was still enslaved, he wore no bonds but those
of gratitude and affection. Yet, a very different story was
told by Omar ibn Said himself. He originally wrote the account
of his experiences in Arabic, which those taking credit for his
conversion could not read very well and in fact, his original
account was not translated for a full I believe it's 17 years after he wrote his
account in Arabic. And if they had been able to
read his original account, they would have seen his adoption
of Christianity stated sincerely but also in very practical terms. "In freedom" he said, "He had
prayed as a Muslim but now, enslaved he would say
the Lord's Prayer." He also filled his text with
prophetic declarations directed at those who had enslaved him. "Oh people of America, oh people of
North Carolina," he wrote in 1831, "Do you have a good
generation that fears Allah? Are you confident that he who is
in heaven will not cause the earth to cave in beneath you
so that it will shake to pieces and overwhelm you?" Even after his conversion, Islam
continued to shape his experience of his enslavement and in
this, he was not alone. An estimated 20 percent of the
enslaved men and women brought to the Americas were Muslims. Some plantation owners made
it a point to add Muslims to their labor force,
relying on their experience with the cultivation
of indigo and rice. Muslim names and religious titles
appear in slave inventories and death records and all
of this, I should add, was fairly common knowledge
at the time. Every so often in the 18th
and 19th century press, other enslaved Muslims
became celebrities of a sort, most often because they
were discovered by white men who were struck by their erudition. The earliest known example of this
was a man who at the time was known as Job Ben Solomon and
he's now known more often as Ayuba Suleiman Diallo, who was
enslaved in Maryland in the 1730s. After an escape attempt, he was like
Omar ibn Said, put in a jailhouse and there he met a local judge,
who was so taken with him that he wrote a book
about their encounter. This is the Memoirs of the Life of
Job 1734, by Judge Thomas Bluett. As the judge wrote, "He showed upon
all occasions a singular veneration for the name of God, and never
pronounced the word Allah without a peculiar accent and
a remarkable pause and indeed, his notions of God, providence,
and a future state were in the main very just
and reasonable." The most famous of these enslaved
Muslims who found their way into the American press
was probably this man, a man named Abdul-Rahman Ibrahim. In the press of the 1820s, he
was known as the Moorish Prince, and he came from an important
political family in his homeland of Timbuktu, now in Mali. His plight drew wide
attention in the 1820s, with newspaper stories
written around the country. Eventually, several well placed
supporters including Secretary of State Henry Clay and through
him, President John Quincy Adams, helped win his freedom and his
eventual relocation to Liberia. Now, before he left, he offered
a pointed critique of religion in the country in which he had
been enslaved for 40 years. As one newspaper account
noted, "He had read the Bible and admired its precepts but
added his principal objections are that Christians do not follow them." The story of Islam in early
America is not merely one of isolated individuals however. Even being conservative in
counting their population, we're talking about tens
of thousands of people. To compare them to other
religious minorities at the time, we might consider that around 1800
there were some 40,000 Catholics, there were probably four
or five thousand Jews. It's entirely possible that
there were more individuals with a connection to Islam at
that point in American history than Catholics and Jews combined. Now, some of this community
tried to preserve the traditions in which they were raised in
hope of establishing communities with the same beliefs and practices that had sustained them
before enslavement. Evidence of this can be seen in this
religious text, written in Arabic in Georgia early in the 19th
century and if I'm permitted a plug, I should say that opening this
June at the National Museum of American History our exhibit, Religion in Early America will
feature this document along with the story of Omar ibn Said. The author of this document is
a man named Bilali Muhammad and, like Omar ibn Said, he was born in
West Africa, most likely around 1770 and he arrived in the
Americas in his 30s. He was purchased at Charleston,
South Carolina and brought to a cotton plantation on Sapelo
Island off the Georgia coast. Literate and multilingual,
Bilali rose to a trusted position on that island, even being
allowed to train other enslaved men with muskets for defense of the
island during the War of 1812. He seems also to have played a
role as a religious leader there. This 13 page document was once
thought to be simply his diary but recent scholarships suggest
that it actually outlined some of the very basics
of Islamic practice. This is how we wash our
hands before prayer, this is how we wash
our feet before prayer, these are the times
at which we pray. Unlike Omar ibn Said, who in
his dislocation from anyone who shared his faith, in that
dislocation he became open to conversion but Bilali
Muhammad, against all odds, seems to have been part
of a religious community. Not only were there other Muslims
on Sapelo Island who looked to him as their leader, he had 12
sons and seven daughters, all of whom were said
to pray by kneeling and bowing facing east
on woven mats. It may have been for
those 19 children that he wrote these
instructions and a further note about these instructions,
scholars who work with the document today suggest
that the way he uses language speaks of a person who is in the process
of forgetting, who is fighting against that forgetting by
writing what he can remember. There are short excerpts from known
texts, there are repeated lines, and he's trying to get down on paper for the following generations
everything he could possibly remember. Yet, despite these best efforts
to pass along his traditions, Islam did not long endure there
or anywhere else and a clue to what happened can be found in
the words of a missionary traveling through the south to preach on
slave plantations in the middle of the 19th century, a missionary
named Charles Colcock Jones. "Many Muhammed and Africans"
he noted, "had found ways to (his word) accommodate Islam to the new beliefs
being imposed upon them. God say they is Allah and
Jesus Christ is Muhammed. The religion is the same but different countries
have different names." Now, this missionary considered this
to be evidence of Muslims inability to recognize the importance of
religious truths but in fact, it seems to prove exactly
the opposite. They understood that their
faith was important enough that they should listen for it
everywhere, even in a country so distant from the places where
they had once heard the call to prayer, even in a nation
where only non-Muslins like Thomas Jefferson
were able to own a Koran. I mentioned at the outset that
this mostly forgotten dimension of American religious
diversity changed dramatically around the year 1860. One reason for this is simply time. Omar ibn Said and Bilali Muhammed, the two of the four figures
I mentioned who remained in this country, they
both died around 1860. A number of dates has been
given for the death of each, some before the war and some
after but it's clear that neither of them lived to see freedom. They were among the last of
the enslaved with memories of their birth countries
and so direct connection to the religious traditions
they had brought with them passed with
that generation. A second reason for the
disappearance of Muslims at this point in US
history has to do with the consequences
of the Civil War. After emancipation establishment of Black churches throughout
the south begins in earnest. Houses of worship become
focal points for newly liberated
communities while missionaries from free Black denominations of the
north arrive both to provide support and to convert those who were
still outside of the church. Through the decades that follow,
Christianity becomes broadly and irrevocably one of the
most significant elements of African-American life. The many religious expressions
that have been brought together by slavery were now subsumed
within a single faith. Yet, the important thing to
remember is that the disappearance of religious traditions
doesn't always mean the end of their influence. We can hear echoes of early
American Islam in fact in early American Christianity
and even today, and even in our broader culture,
particularly in musical styles borne of the ritual known as the ring
shout, the primary ritual experience of early African-American
religious observants, which bears some resemblance to
Muslim ceremonies and is thought by some scholars to have contributed
not just to the common style of worship but to the
blues and to jazz. Now, in conclusion, I'd like to
say that I focused on Islam here because it provides a real stark
example of the way religious and cultural practices
can be forgotten even if they were once common knowledge
but we could tell similar stories of many other traditions and I like
to think that like those 6,487 books that were planted here, that have
grown into a library of millions, we should believe and we should
remember that all the beliefs of our past, even those
that have been forgotten, they're part of our common history. Thank you. [ Applause ] >> Well, it's a joy to be back
here at the Library of Congress and the Kluge Center and to
learn from Ted, and from Sally, and from Peter in these
wonderful lectures. I was instructed to give
some informal remarks and I guess my distinguished
colleagues heard the same instruction but, as good scholars,
they have given formal papers. I have come with my bumpkin tuba
solo to talk with you a little bit about the period 1940 to
1947, which is the period in which the United States
Supreme Court created the modern constitutional law of religious
freedom on the strength of the first amendment and its
guarantees of no establishment of religion and no prohibition
on its free exercise. Before 1940, between 1791 and
1940, only 23 cases arising under the first amendment religion
clauses reached the United States Supreme Court and in not one of those cases did the court
find an establishment of religion or a violation of free
exercise rights. After 1940, 183 Supreme Court cases
were heard on the religion clauses of the first amendment and
attendant statutory protections of religious freedom, more than half
of which were findings of violations of either the establishment clause
or the free exercise clause. Clearly, something changed
dramatically in the 1940s and I'd like to use a couple
of minutes informally to explore a bit what changed,
why it changed, how it changed, and then what the significance of
that is for us in the 21st century. So, three main changes occur in
this period from 1940 and the case of Cantwell versus Connecticut to
1947, and the Supreme Court case of Everson versus Board
of Education. The first change is that the
Supreme Court, for the first time, applied the first amendment
religion clauses directly to state and local governments and created
a uniform and universal law of religious freedom
enforceable by the federal courts. Secondly, the Supreme Court read
the establishment clause guarantee and the free exercise
clause guarantee rigorously and attached rather substantial
scrutiny to the actions of federal, state, and local government
when they were challenged under either the establishment
clause or the free exercise clause and that scrutiny gave rise to wins and those wins encouraged ever more
litigation in the federal courts. And the third thing that happened is that the Supreme Court proved
itself unusually solicitous to marginal groups, highly unpopular
religious groups like Witnesses, and Adventists, and pacifists,
and atheists and others, who had not fared well
at all in state courts or in state legislatures and found
very little recourse and protection from the US Congress as well. Three major changes
and it's not accidental that these changes occurred in the
1940s as we move toward the creation of a universal national law of religious freedom
enforceable by the federal courts. In the first place, we are
moving toward a national project in the mid-20th century. Already in the 1930s during the
Great Depression, as Congress and eventually the United States
Supreme Court after 1937 moved to try to create a national law on
many questions of health, safety, welfare, and even morality, even
in the face of countervailing state and local governmental concerns. World War II and the
budding Cold War underscored that national consolidation
project even more as Congress and the White House and the
Supreme Court together took leads in reaching national consolidation
on the fundamentals that needed to be enforced even in the face of countervailing state
and local interests. But most importantly to our project of religious freedom was the
1940s discovery in horror of Hitler's death camps and Stalin's
gulags, where all sense of humanity and dignity had been
betrayed and a recognition that local bigotry run amuck
and unchecked can yield that massive barbaric treatment
of a particular religious and cultural people, in particular
the Jews, but not only the Jews, gypsies and many others as well. And in response, the
United States of America and the international
collection of states in the universal declaration
seized anew on the idea of religious freedom as a
universal good, a fundamental right to be enjoyed by every
person, by every people, in all contexts around the world. It became one of the greater four
freedoms that Roosevelt lifted up and it was considered essential to
the organization of a good society and a democratic policy to
have universal protection of religious freedom for all,
especially for minorities, especially for those that were
unpopular, especially for those that held religious views that
had been locally vilified. It was critical that especially
the outsiders felt welcome and had the constitutional
protection of the first amendment that they could call upon
in the federal courts and it was especially
considered important that a person could be guaranteed
the protection of the federal courts under the first amendment
regardless of where she/he lived and therein lay the rub,
because we run four square into the constitutional
protection of federalism, built into the US Constitution
itself as you know, with its division of enumerated
powers amongst the federal government but also the guarantee
of reserved powers to the states, guaranteed in the 10th amendment,
guaranteed in Article IV, and jealously maintained
in the century and a half between 1791 to 1940. But furthermore, the first
amendment itself was problematic in this regard because
it singles out Congress. It says Congress shall make no
law respecting an establishment of religion or prohibiting
the free exercise thereof. It says nothing about the states. It's not even in the
passive voice like the second through ninth amendments
where we talk about there should be no
illegal searches and seizures or no unjust taking of property
which could be read generically to apply to any government,
federal or state. Here, the Congress was singled
out by the first amendment, Congress shall make no law
violating religious freedom. And whatever the intention
of the drafters of first amendment religion
clauses in 1789 happened to be, or the ratifiers in
1791 happened to be, that language was taken
universally to mean that the first amendment religious
freedom guarantees applied only to Congress and the federal
government leaving the then 48 individual states to govern religion
and religious freedom in accordance with their own local
state constitutions. Some states were generous in their
protections of religious freedom but many states maintained forms
of religious establishment, preferencing particular forms of
faith, putting in place policies that enacted by coercion certain
forms of religious identity, belief, and practice and at the same
time put in place a number of encumbrances and abridgements and sometimes deeply
prejudicial actions towards religious minorities. So here was the problem, how
to create a universal law of religious freedom when the
text of the Constitution itself and the very federalist structure of the Constitution
seemed to stand in the way. And to accomplish that end,
the United States Supreme Court in this fateful set of
cases from 1940 to 1947, performed a constitutional magic act that we lawyers call due
process incorporation. This will be technical for
30 seconds, check your email. The court looked to the 14th
amendment, passed in the aftermath of the Civil War, ratified in 1868, which has as its first guarantee
no state shall deprive any person of life, liberty or property
without due process of law. We call that the due process clause and the courts said
interpreting this term liberty, what is part of the
body, the corpus? What is incorporated
into the idea of liberty? Well, the first place we
will go is to look elsewhere in the constitutional
text in the Bill of Rights and other rights provisions set
out in the instrument as a whole and among other things, there was
a guarantee in the 14th amendment of religious liberty, and what
does religious liberty entail? Religious liberty entails
no establishment of religion and no prohibition on the
free exercise of religion and that little poof you
just heard is the completion of the constitutional
magic act because suddenly, what is read as Congress shall make
no law in effect becomes government of any sort, federal, state, and local government shall make
no law establishing religion or prohibiting the
free exercise thereof. The first amendment applies directly
to Congress and by extension, other branches of the
federal government. The first amendment
applies indirectly through the 14th amendment
due process clause to state and to local governments alike. You can stop checking your email and
now we can get back to the story. Why is this important? All of a sudden not only have we
structurally changed the first amendment so that it becomes
the universal law that seemed to be necessary in the 1940s in
the face of local bigotry run amuck in a highly civilized nation like
Germany, but we also now have through rigorous interpretation
of those two guarantees, invited the federal courts into the
conversation about religious freedom in a way that had never taken place
in the prior century and a half of the republic and
unfurling in the 1940s forward for the next half century was the
rigorous law of no establishment of religion, separation of
church and state being one of the organizing axioms as the
Supreme Court addressed questions of religious teachers, and texts,
and ceremonies, and Bible readings, and symbols in public schools,
striking virtually all of them down as a violation of establishment
norms perhaps permissible under earlier state constitutions
but now under the glaring light of the establishment clause of the
first amendment, no longer tenable in a nation dedicated to religious
freedom amongst other things, through separation
of church and state. Likewise, governments role
in religious education, the traditional symbiosis
between the two is now severed through a separation of
church and state logic. Religious schools are permitted to
exist, they provide opportunities for education, but they must do
that on their own without aid or cooperation or involvement by government officials
beyond basic accreditation. At the same time, the free exercise
clause and free speech clauses and sometimes attendant additional
constitutional provisions protect people, especially the unpopular
in their activities in public life, Witnesses going door to
door, going into public parks and public streets, broadcasting the
message of Jesus Christ and seeking to win those over to their
faith, Adventists and others who had Saturday Sabbatarian
concerns that were not being
accommodated by legislatures but now are being accommodated
under the free exercise clause, Amish living in small agrarian
communities who did not want to subscribe fully to the mandatory
school attendance laws now protected in their distinctive identities and
allowed to pursue their activities without encumbrances by the state
and one could multiply examples. From 1940 to 1990, the United
States Supreme Court put in place for the world a massive,
massive record of how to protect religious liberty
aggressively, zealously, for all and vindicating the idea that
Mahatma Gandhi made popular that a nation's dedication to
religious freedom is measured by how it treats its most hated
minorities and in some sense, that record of a half century stood
tall and remains an important source of inspiration and instruction
to jurists, and judges, and courts around the
world to this day. Interestingly, some would say sadly,
the Supreme Court in the last decade or two has retreated substantially from that aggressive
protection of religious freedom. The court has made it
harder to press cases through toughened standing
requirements, when you can stand at the bar to press your case
has gotten harder to achieve. The court has allowed splits
in the lower federal circuits to linger a lot longer with a great
deal of confusion amongst parties as to how they're going to be
protected in their religious freedom if they live in the third
circuit versus the ninth circuit. The court has strongly encouraged
state legislatures to take over religious freedom
questions through statues and changing those statutes
as needed in accordance with local political
custom and fashion. The court has shown strong
separation of powers logic to again defer to Congress and
let Congress do a lot of the work in religious freedom and the court
has reduced the free exercise and the no establishment
clauses effectively to guarantees of neutrality on the face of the
statute itself and neutrality and general applicability in
application of the statute. Since 1990, under the free
exercise clause and since 2002 under the establishment clause, both of those constitutional
guarantees are now wimpy. Justice Thomas on the
bench has suggested that these are all
perhaps steps along the way to disincorporating the religion
clauses from the 14th amendment. Four times in dicta, always
in concurrence or dissent, Justice Thomas has said quite
boldly it is time for us to go back to a literal reading
of the first amendment, especially under the
establishment clause that says Congress shall make no
law respecting an establishment of religion. We don't have jurisdiction
to hear cases coming out of the state and
local governments. So far, no justice has signed
on to Justice Thomas' opinion but I give you a small anecdote
to signal perhaps a danger. A few years ago, I was one of the
lectures at the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals in Alabama
and Justice Scalia was in the audience (that's his circuit)
and we happened to sit together at dinner and we had a
nice, long conversation about the original understanding
of the first amendment and we fussed back and forth about
texts that he knows remarkably well and we had a few drinks, and in the
course of the evening I said to him, "Justice Scalia, is there anything
to this argument of your brother on the court Justice
Thomas, that we are thinking of selectively disincorporating
the religion clauses from the 14th amendment?" He raises his glass and says, "We're
one vote away", which is interesting and it's also in my
view deeply troubling. There was a reason in the 1940s to
worry about local bigotry run amuck and there is a reason in
the 21st century to worry about local bigotry run amuck. We are now awash with
xenophobia and nativism. We are now awash with
islamophobia and anti-Semitism. Religious communities Christian and non-Christian alike are
now facing enormous pressure about the propriety
of their existence, their special claims
on religious freedom. There's a worry about leaving
these things to statutes, leaving these things
to state legislatures. There's a worry about letting
one of our universal goods of human nature simply disappear
through political calculus. That, from any person of good
faith and good will, is troubling. Thank you. [ Applause ] >> Thank you, thank you John,
thank you Peter, thank you Sally. I know I promised a five
minute stretching break but I'd like to rescind that offer if no one
objects because these eloquent words and thoughts are so in our minds now and I think we also would lose
some organization coherence if we all went out and stretched. So if no one objects, I think we
should talk a little bit as a panel, five or 10 minutes and then
open it up to questions. I'm sure you all have them. Three spectacular talks,
thank you so much, I learned so much from each of them. I want to say a few questions
first and then I'll keep talking and I want to end with a
question for John but for Sally, I will never think about
disestablishmentarianism in Virginia the same way. Thank you, that was
profoundly enlightening. I thought during your
lecture about New England and I don't think the
same paradigm holds- >> No. >> In New England. Gordon may want to enlighten us
on that topic but it seems to me to the extent there is
proslavery thought in the pulpit in New England it's more from
the established urban churches and that the radical evangelicals of rural New England
are pretty antislavery so that's something
we might get into. With Peter, I have done
research in exactly this topic. I've looked at Jefferson's
copy of the Koran here, which is a fascinating
volume to hold including its so beautifully preserved, the pages
are so pristine that one comes away with some curiosity about whether
he ever actually opened his copy of the Koran, because it
doesn't look like he did except for the little ownership
markings and I wanted to ask if new digital means of
scholarship are helping you to find these little
known Islamic examples, because you found newspaper
clippings and we are seeing, we've seen in science for some time
but more and more in the humanities that the power of very powerful
searching tools are just throwing out more and different kinds of data
that don't fit with our big theory so maybe we can come back to that. But then with John, and I'm sorry
to do this in kind of reverse order, I learned so much about the 1940s
from you and about the four freedoms and those four freedoms have
always been very strong in my mind as a former presidential
speech writer and in the Clinton White House
we certainly looked to FDR and to Eleanor Roosevelt
as very important examples. In the 1990s, we were reliving a lot
of the 50th anniversaries of events in the 1940s and I remember
writing the remarks for the 50th of the universal declaration of
human rights but I'm wondering, a more narrow scholarly question
for our scholarly audience which is did scholarly
work on Thomas Jefferson, which he was in a very positive
light in these decades in the 30s and 40s more so I would say than he
has been in, in the last 20 years, but was that affecting the
thinking of the Supreme Court, did Frankfurter and Brandeis in
particular lead this intensification of protection of different
kinds of religions on the court, and was there some vestigial
memory of the problems in the wake of World War I, the government's
heavy hand suppressing different kinds of minorities in the
late teens and early 20's? Did memories of all those flavor
the courts thinking in the 1940s? That was more than 20
years since those events, but here in Washington people
remember things for a long time, so can I begin with that question and then I hope you
two will jump in also. >> I'll defer to Sally because
she's written a book on this but I can say a word or two
while she warms up her answer. I think among the justices
of the bench, Justice Black is probably the one
that was most enamored of the story of Jefferson, Justice
Jackson as well. Justice Black and Jackson, very different ways
were reading Jefferson, were reading about the letter to the
Danbury Baptist Association of 1802, were reading some of the narratives,
rather panegyrical narratives about Jefferson of the day and
saw him and saw the Virginia story so ably told by Sally Gordon, saw
the Virginia story as prototypical of and indeed representative of
the story of the first amendment and Justice Black in his long
recitation in Everson v Board of Education and the majority
opinion and then repeated opinions over the next 25 years repeats
that Virginia story and sees it as emblematic of the necessity
of a new way of thinking about the establishment clause
as a strict separation of church and state guarantee, and
a new way of thinking about the federal courts role
in insuring separation of church and state even at the micro level
of a local school board's decision about how they're going to
teach in their classroom and it was quite clearly thought
to be a necessary condition for the protection of
religious freedom and it had as its complimentary guarantee
the free exercise clause, which at the same time was
being rigorously protected. Not to forget, that the
bill for the establishment of religious freedom is mostly
about free exercise protection, freedom of conscience,
and freedom of expression, and freedom of movement, and
freedom from all matter of coercion and that side of the Jeffersonian
puzzle is also very much part of the jurisprudence. Justice Black is only
one of many on the court, Justice Brandeis clearly is an
important figure in that story too and we see this string of cases,
17 in total from 1940 to 1953, where the Supreme Court using
Jeffersonian separatists and free exercise logic is in the
business of creating this new law of religious freedom in
direct and dramatic ways. People debate back and forth where
Justice Black got his separatism, whether Jefferson is simply window
dressing for preconceived ideas that he received as a member say of
the Ku Klux Klan where separation of church and state was a mantra,
people worry a little bit about some of the nativist inspiration for
that appetite for separatism and the anti-Catholic ways in
which it was being directed. There's no evidence in Justice
Black's opinions in my view, to warrant those suspicions but
there's a lot of speculation in the biographies about him. Philip Hamburger's
Separation of Church and State book is a good
recent example of that, which makes folk a little anxious about the easy story that's
generally told about Black, Everson and the separationist project but Professor Gordon will have
much better things to say. >> I don't think so,
that was pretty amazing. The smoke going up as Black's
children burned his papers after his death, at his instruction,
have always raised suspicions but I totally agree with
exactly what John said. The one thing I would add is that Frankfurter was not especially
solicitous of religious minorities in fact, quite the opposite and his
opinion in a Jehovah's Witness case in 1940 was called his
Fall of France opinion. He was so worried about making
Americans civically unified that he tossed the Jehovah's
Witnesses under the bus and it should be noted that
several thousand Witnesses died in concentration camps in
Germany, Austria and so on as well. And then three years later when
his decision, the majority decision in the first case was reversed
in an opinion by Justice Jackson, Frankfurter was so brilliant. He literally wrote a list of
the stuff that was going to be on the table if we allowed theology to change the way we
ran the legal system. School prayer, Bible reading,
funding for parochial school I mean, you just go through the laundry
list and he got it all right, and in 1991, Scalia's '91 Smith? >> 90. >> 90, he quoted Frankfurter's
dissent in the Barnett case and the majority in
Gobitis extensively for justifying throwing this
all back out to politics so it's really interesting to watch
the way the Holocaust certainly and World War II played out
in Supreme Court doctrine, it could go in such
radically different ways. >> Am I off base in
thinking about the memory of post-World War I dissent? I mention it because of the
big World War I exhibit here which you'll see tomorrow but
is that too distant a memory in the 40s, does too
much water float under the bridge by that point? >> Certainly Jackson
and the biographers of Jackson make pretty
clear that he was inspired to do something constitutionally
in response. Clearly, Justice Cardozo
in the Palko and subsequent cases before 1940,
that the groundwork for Cantwell and its progeny, he was concerned
about protecting fundamental liberty as he called it, against these
national and local intrusions and he educes especially
in the Palko opinion some of these instances of oppression,
even by the national government. And clearly, as we're thinking through the post-incorporation
case law, it was not uncommon in amicus briefs and
sometimes in direct argument to remember the travesties
against the outsiders, to remember the [inaudible], to
remember the internment camps in Hawaii and elsewhere that
were not part necessarily of the National Press Register. There's certainly no political
favor in bringing those up but they were part
of the inspiration. Bigotry was not a theoretical
concern that was driving the court, it was real, it was palpable, it
was tragic, and it was not going to be countenanced
in the United States. >> Peter, maybe I can
repeat the question I asked and then didn't quite give
you the chance to answer but what about data methods? How are you finding these incredibly
interesting newspaper articles and life stories? >> Well, the book that I wrote
that I drew much of this research from is the book you mentioned in your introduction,
One Nation Under Gods. It retells American history
from the point of view of religious minorities
and the beginning of my research process
were newspaper archives and specifically digital
newspaper archives because you can find an
incredible amount of material in a very short time as
compared to microfiche. I love to come to the
Library of Congress but it's much more convenient
to find these things at home so that was really the beginning
of my process, reading newspapers through the 18th into the
19th century and I mentioned in my closing statement that you
can find many other stories similar to the story of Islam
in early America and the newspapers are
a great place to start. They often warrant stories being
written with future scholarship in mind so there's a lot of
reading between the lines that needs to be done but you can
find these accounts, you can find these individual
lives and build out from there. So for example, in addition to
finding a great deal of information about these celebrity
early Muslins in America, I found what I believe is the first
dedication of a Chinese temple in San Francisco in 1852. I believe that during the
research of that book, I unearthed that for the
first time, and you can't find that unless you go back and
read history as it was written at the time in the press, so it's
really, for my work I couldn't do it without it both in my written work and now the work I
do for the museum. So many resources are also
fully digital now and available to find them including for
example, the wonderful collection of the Library of Virginia
where I was able to find the famous Virginia 10,000
name religious freedom petition and then make arrangements
to include that in our upcoming
exhibit as well. >> Those used to be at the
Library of Congress website. They migrated about six
months ago, devastating. >> Did you begin your research in the Chronicling America
database of American newspapers? >> I believe that it's
America's Historical Newspapers, as far as I remember the name of
the database and I actually began that research at Washington College. While I was there, I
had the good fortune of being a Patrick Henry Writing
Fellow at Washington College in 2011 to 2012, when I was able
to fully devote myself to researching that book. >> Is there still a leaky sink on
the second floor of my old house? [ Inaudible Question ] >> There's a microphone. >> Thanks so much for
the contributions, which I have enjoyed enormously. I also write this topic with
respect to Africa so I want to set this conversation in a
large comparative perspective and in doing so, I
will flip the coin on these representations,
I will go another route. First, I'll argue that
in spite of the rhetorics and division this is not messy
enough, this is not messy, messy, not as troubling when you set it in
a comparative perspective, Sudan, India, Nigeria, so this
is not messy enough. I have not seen enough blood and
killing and that so that's one set of argument when we set this
conversation in a big umbrella. Then comes the second
one, what is driving what? The way the conversation
is set up is it politics that is actually driving
the religion, not the religion driving the
politics or we can make the argument that that kind of division is
problematic that I've just made because we can do it that way. But my third biggest issue
is how, when we set it in comparative perspective, from
the [inaudible] of India, Nigeria, Sudan and others, they attribute
the success of this country to the [inaudible] values
of religion and language. That's the way we read
it from the other side, that this place is very successful
because there's a commonality around the use of English,
around Christianity, around the framing of an identity. It is much easier to frame an
American nation's [inaudible] around some kinds of notions
of religious consensus which you won't find
say, in Nigeria. That's the way we frame it on
the other side of the Atlantic that you people are so successful
and so lucky because you agree to certain, this is not about
[inaudible], that you agree to setting [inaudible] values,
that you can have some small fights but there's at least a consensus
that you'll speak English, that you are Christian,
and that there's a template for capitalism to function. There's a function for the
nation state to function. There's a template
for the legal system that you described to function. [Inaudible] Sharia there will
be no justice, no Supreme Court that can resolve some of these
things that you've just resolved so I'm just trying to take your data
and look at it from the other side of the coin, not that I'm trying to make any sense reading
it differently. Thank you. >> Thank you very much for your
comments and for inviting us to be messier when we take
things in a wider perspective. We extraordinarily underestimate
the luxury we have in this country to be able to broker
our hardest disputes through generally peaceable
legal means and when we have fundamental
questions that are at stake, we have authorities to whom we can
turn to help resolve those disputes and methods by which
recompense can be done, reconciliation can be achieved,
and parties can go on and we take that for granted in a way that
many places around the world, even sophisticated cultures of much
greater ancient pedigree don't have that same luxury and we look
around the world to the 110, to the 198 nation states and independent territories have
high levels of religious persecution of some, whether Christians, or
Muslims, or indigenous peoples, or groups or sects within the same. We have 149 civil wars
going on around the world, according to the Carter
Center, many of them never, ever each the headlines of the national papers let
alone the international papers, people being savaged so your
point is very well taken. We have an extraordinary luxury here
that we shouldn't underestimate. Secondly, we should also recognize
that one of the critical foundations for the protection of democratic
order, constitutional law, democratic governance
more generally is that we protect religious freedom
not just for Christians, but for all and in some ways religious
freedom once protected provides the foundation for the protection
of many other kinds of freedoms for individuals and groups,
speech, and press, and assembly and various kinds of associational
rights that a person can have and the protection of religious
groups whether Christian or non-Christian, provides
the foundation for the variety of other associational protections
and I think it's critical that we recognize religious
freedom as a first freedom, a foundational freedom
whose evaporation in some sense is a chiseling
away of the cornerstone of many other constitutional
rights that we enjoy. And the third thing I would
say is, with due respect, that we have never
privileged Christianity. It's interesting that we have
had the establishment clause that says no establishment
of any religion and we've always had pluralism
as in some sense the genius of the American experiment and the
recognition that even at the time of the founding, that Catholics,
and Protestants, and Jews, and others who had slaughtered
and slandered each other with a vengeance in prior
decades were welcome into the Constitutional
Convention discussion and welcome into the ratification of the
Bill of Rights and welcome in the deliberation about
what religious freedom means in the courts. There are now more than 1,240
registered religious groups in the United States, increasingly
diverse in their non-Abrahamic form. I think that's to be celebrated, not
to be lamented and I think it's part of the genius of what the
American experiment has unleashed constitutionally. >> Gordon and then Manuel next. >> I might add the luxury that
we might have was the consequence of 200 years of pretty
bitter fighting in the west where the 30 Years War was
just as bloody as what's going on in the Sudan or elsewhere today. I had two points, one
has to do with Jefferson. He was very important in 1943,
because it was the 200th anniversary of his birth and the memorial that
is on the tidal basin was built with great democratic support and
FDR was in love with Jefferson so that becomes part and of course,
I think in the 1947 decision, I think it's Black who first
time uses Jefferson's words wall of separation if I- >> No. >> No? >> 1879. >> 1879 is the first? >> Yeah, yeah. >> Doesn't Black use
it in '47 though? >> He does. >> Right and so it gets
picked up because of Jefferson but I have a question
for Sally, or a point. You know, I think the
situation in the 80s and early 90s is a little bit
more ambiguous than you're making. I think there's an awful lot of proslavery thinking among the
lower orders but at the elite level- >> Right. >> I'll give you one piece of
evidence which is very confusing. The Board of Visitors in 1791
to the College of William and Mary offers an honorary
degree to Granville Sharp, who is the leading British
abolitionist at the time. Now, why would all these
slaveholding plantars honor Granville Sharp in that way? I think that raises a problematic, I think by after the Haitian
Revolution, then everything changes. >> Right. >> But up to I think in the late
80s, middle 80s and early 90s, I think you still have
a lot of the plantars who are aristocratic slaveholders. >> That's a great point and if
only I could point to the stuff on the cutting room floor but one
of the key elements behind say, Presbyterian and eventually
Methodist proslavery was their distrust of the Church of England,
especially Granville Sharp, Beilby Porteus, so Sharp's
support of Somerset's case, of course Somerset was taken from
Virginia by his owner Stewart and so that was very personally felt
in Virginia and then second, Beilby Porteus gave this amazing
antislavery sermon in 1783, at Lambeth Palace and that was
reprinted everywhere in Virginia so part of Coke's problem was
that they thought he was a Church of England Priest which in fact, he was and then he also
became a Methodist Bishop which made him a schismatic
member of two, anyway. But yes, very definitely they did
not trust the Church of England and William and Mary is, and
Granville Sharp, were Anglicans so there's this class
level of distrust and you're absolutely
right, I take your point. >> I think wall of separation was a
phrase also used in the 17th century by Roger Williams in our
state, well, not yet. >> The garden in the,
you mean Rhode Island? >> Yeah, yeah. >> Well, it comes out of the Bible. >> It does. >> Ephesians 2:14,
wall of separation, and it has a long exegetical history
in pre-American settlement theology so it's not a phrase
that's invented by Jefferson or Anabaptists or others
before them. >> I think he's using it as
he's trying to define his- >> As a legal term. >> As a legal term, right. Manuel did you- >> First of all, let me thank all
of you for this incredible panel that shows how wonderful
scholarship can be in a time where scholarship is doubted. Mm-mm, here it is. Now, I want simply a very
small point to convey to John particularly, the comment
that is usually heard in Europe, particularly France
but not only in France that while America has developed
starting in the 1940s not before, a very important comprehensive
system of protecting religious minorities,
on the other hand in the practice of everyday life meaning workplace,
political institutions, civic life, not so much protected the right
to have no religion meaning to declare oneself atheist and
not have any religious practice. This has been sanctioned in
terms of not providing jobs, in terms of marginalizing people
sometimes violently attacking, so the right to atheism which
by the way is the majority of the population of France
is either agnostic or atheist, is not so respected in America because by definition America has
always been a religious country from the very beginning
of American history. So, what is your reaction
to this kind of opinion that I hear all the time? >> It's the law on the books and
the law in action, to be sure. We're very generous in respecting
the religious freedom of all but there are certain groups
that we constantly vilify, Native American Indians,
Scientologists, Wiccans, increasingly today Muslims,
intermittent episodes of anti-Semitism, anti-Judaism. We do have our laundry
list of social pariahs and sometimes the courts
are blind to their plight. I will say with respect to atheism,
the Supreme Court rather early in a case of 1961 called
Torcaso versus Watkins, upheld the free exercise
right of an atheist to refuse to swear an oath that educed God. He could give an alternative form
of demonstrating his veracity, the court concluded and
did so on the strength of the free exercise right of
that individual and the worry about establishing a theism from
which he would become a victim. And so the court rather early was in
the vanguard really around the world in thinking of western
constitutional values of protecting atheism
but that's a hard sell when the Cold War logic
was very much about we are the great
Christian nation and those atheistic communists
out there are doing their thing and that case gets lost in the
ensuing decades of Cold War logic, but it's early for many
important signposts of a generosity towards people
of faith and of no faith and the protection they should
enjoy under the free exercise clause and increasingly, I think in
the 21st century we've come to recognize demographically
that the nones on various religious demographics,
the nones are getting bigger and bigger especially in the
younger generation and their plight and the protection of their
plight, I think is going to be an important part of
our story going forward. The hard question I think, that
we have to face is whether atheism and none are the same thing. It's one thing to have
an affirmative belief in the non-existence of
God as an atheist has, it's another thing
simply to be abstaining from any religious participation and
any religious involvement or ideas and the European Court
of Human Rights has, under the European Convention
Article IX, the notion of thought, conscience and belief and
it's a grab gab that allows for the religion of atheism
and the none to be combined in zealous protection for what
we would call religious freedom. We don't have that textual
luxury in the United States and we have religion and we are
jealous about protecting sincere, good faith idiosyncratic, newly
acquired understandings of the faith but there is a presumption
of faith there and I think the hard question
becomes well, is the protection of religious freedom as
Jefferson himself said to Madison, is the protection of
religious freedom as soon as you establish one form of
faith, you automatically begin to disenfranchise those
of non-faith. And the analogous questions
now are beginning to emerge, does the protection of religious
freedom, the privileging of those who have faith inevitably begin to
compromise the status, the rights, the entitlements that those
who have no faith don't enjoy. Now, there's a couple
of answers to that. One is that free exercise of
religion rights are also balanced by a no establishment guarantee that
says yes, there is free exercise of religion but you're going
to have to do it on your own. We cannot establish religion
but we can establish nones. Number two, there is free speech
and free association and free press, and general equal protection
and due process liberty rights that folk of no faith can enjoy. Folk of faith can enjoy them too
and the question is, is that enough for those who do not have a
faith claim along the way? Those are big questions that
we're going to have to face in the next 25, 30 years as
we think through the balances of free exercise or religious
freedom jurisprudence and interestingly, the Supreme
Court has deferred those questions to the political process by making
free exercise rights effectively now statutory rights, the Religious
Freedom Restoration Act, the Religious Land Use and
Institutional Persons Act, and then the 21 states that
have their own Religious Freedom Restoration Acts and there,
there's a little bit more fuzziness about what gives you the ground
for pressing a religion claim and already there, we're both
politicizing the question and we're dealing with
slippery linguistics. >> On the question of
veracity of original sources, I believe John Quincy
Adams is the only President who did not use a Bible. He put his hand on the Constitution. >> Right, great that
you mentioned that. >> I didn't see you, I'm sorry. >> A great history book
just newly published by Leigh Schmidt called Village
Atheists about the history of persecution and
protection of atheists in the US, really fun to read. >> If I could add one note on the
nones, I think it's this phenomenon of the religiously unaffiliated
that we're living in now, part of it is we're in a
moment of shifting categories. You look at the huge
numbers on the nones and the religiously unaffiliated,
many of them believe in God and so I've often wondered if none
should actually be called some of this, and some of that, and
some of that because they are in the process of redefining the
affiliations they're choosing and the existing categories
often they don't belong there. What comes of that we'll
know in a generation. >> Yes? >> Thank you so much
for a great panel. I had sort of a more
specific question. Was there any discussion
of disestablishment or free exercise during the
debates of the 14th amendment and did they call on
any of those debates when discussing the due process
incorporation in the 1940s, and were there discussions in
Congress, were there discussions in the ratification
debates, or is this something that just was not part
of the discussion at all? >> It really didn't appear. There was tons of concern about
women voting, about lifting the veil of the marriage bed, about all kinds
of things but no, life, liberty and property were not
infused with religious. It's really, really interesting. Great question. >> Why don't we take you
and the Samiara [phonetic] so two final questions and
then we'll call it a day. >> Thank you all for
a wonderful panel. A couple of comments [inaudible],
on the 1815 letter from Jefferson, I would suggest that his
primary association at that stage of his life on clergy and politics
would not have been anything Virginian, it would
have been the influence of the New England clergy
during the 1790s and especially in his presidential campaigns, that would have been his deeply felt
frame of reference at that point. Also, yes it's certainly true that the Granville Sharp
honorary degree is fascinatingly a complicated question and there
were ideas percolating in the 1780s but a few years ago, as you probably
know, there was an assertion that Virginia had a
moment when it came close to abolishing slavery in the 1780s. I think that has been chipped away
at recently but I do also think that what you have discovered,
uncovered, recovered with your work on this subject really does cast
that into doubt in fascinating and important ways not least
because of the dimensions of class, and social hierarchy that correlated
with religious affiliation. I really don't think that
we're going to be able to say they were anywhere near
abolishing slavery if the account that you've given today
becomes more widely known, so I wanted to thank
you for that and ask for any comment that you might have. >> Thank you, I think in addition to the New England clergy I
would add New York, Pennsylvania, some parts of Maryland, New
Jersey, I think there are many, many people outraged not only by his
infidelity meaning his lack of faith but also his relationship
with Sally Hemmings and that really is widely known by
the very, very early 19th century and you can read all kinds of, the
[inaudible phrase] and you know, I mean just really, really
remarkable how deep that was and how deeply it wounded
Jefferson, you're right. And then, in terms of
the abolition of slavery, I do think the work that's been
done recently by Polly Brewer, Alan Taylor, even Claire Priest in the law field have very
definitely shown that for example, the Manumission Statute produced
a more compliant slave population because people were hoping to be
manumitted and of course rarely were but it is also true that one
of the reasons Coke could cause so much trouble is that
he'd appear in town and some people would start
manumitting so it was both because some people were
really moved by the thought that they were preventing
the return of the Messiah and many more reacted
violently against that. So yes, I think I'm feeling my way
along as you rightly point out, with the rest of the historiography. Thank you. >> I've been thinking about the
New England clergy this week because I'm trying to
imagine their shock. Of course, we can't project their
thinking into the future but to know that a major speech was given
this week on the subject of religious pluralism and
separation of church and state by the head of the
Roman Catholic Church, who gave a very important speech
in Cairo a few days ago and how that would have been inconceivable
to the New England world view in the 17th or 18th century. Samira, do you want to
ask our last question? >> First, I wanted to say
regarding Peter and John's comments about the religious nones, as
someone who has spent a lot of time studying multiple
religious belonging and that growing population, yes
rah rah, I think definitely the some of this and some of that is a
really excellent way to think about if not all nones many of them,
and I'm really curious to see how that works out in the legal
framework but if you will excuse me for asking a question
of a cultural historian of American religion moving into
thinking about religion and law for my second project, I'm wondering
John if you could say a couple of things about disestablishment
both in terms of what it looks like and how debates about
it have functioned, I'm thinking about when I started
graduate school a little bit more than 10 years ago, Georgia
was having a terrible drought and our governor had prayer
meetings on the front steps of the capitol to pray for rain. I'm sure that this came up in
your classes as it did in mine and so you know, what is that? How does that relate to legal
understandings of disestablishment? And the second question is,
this question of government versus corporation right,
we see the religious freedom of the individual changing as
corporate personhood is allowed to exert power and I understand
the difference between government and large corporate
entity but I'm wondering about the practical ramifications
in terms of the American citizen and how those rights and
what the legal precedent around those rights are likely to
be given the cases still pending and of the last couple of years. >> I've spoken an awful
lot so I'll let Peter jump in on the none question and I'm
going to also ask Sally to jump in on the disestablishment stuff. She's really the expert on it, writing a fabulous
19th century book. If there's any time left, I'll
address your questions directly but I've talked too much so Peter? >> Oh, so I construct my own work
on the so called nones that it seems to me that well, in the writing
I've done with it I've tried to make a parallel
with earlier moments of personal disestablishment,
of the desire of individuals not to be associated with any
particular religious institution. And there's a wonderful
sermon by George Whitfield where he's preaching I
think in Philadelphia and he's channeling the voice
of Father Abraham in heaven and he's asking who they have
there, are there Lutherans there, are there Methodists there,
are there Anglicans there and Father Abraham
says through Whitfield, "We don't know those names here"
and so that's an earlier moment of talking about none-ness,
none of those things. And so, I wonder if at a
certain point when we look back at this moment of disaffiliation,
that's the world I was looking for not personal disestablishment
but personal disaffiliation, will it look like something
similar and will we realize that this is another moment that
might be called an awakening by some future generation because
it's giving rise to a new set of categories that we
can't guess at yet. >> I really enjoy your
question and I'd love to talk about corporate personhood
but also, on the nones, I'm just starting work now on
this very, very important movement in the late 1830's which I
have to think of another name because they call themselves
the come-outers [laughter] which means something so
different now but by the tens of thousands they left organized
religion over their silence on slavery and you very rapidly saw- >> In the south as
well as the north? >> Oh yes, oh yeah, and you
very rapidly saw for example, schisms appearing within Baptists
and Methodists from whom many of these people had come out as
it were, because they became more and more concerned that if they did
not embrace a more negative attitude towards slavery they would
lose the rest of their people. I mean, tens of thousands of
just Methodists in just New York so I think it's worth thinking
about the ways that Peter's point about a massive shift in attitude
may be expressed in disaffiliation and yet itself be deeply
religiously motivated. And then, the only other thing
I wanted to say before learning from John is that I've also
been so interested by the fact that the first really common
non-government corporations in American history were
religious corporations. Those are the first, the first
general incorporation statute was written in 1784, for religious
organizations and so one of the things to think
about is the longstanding and very deep relationship
between corporate status and all kinds of religious entities. You can't hold property securely as a religious organization
unless you incorporate and that's been true
for more than 200 years. It's really interesting
how deep that goes. >> Let me just speak
to your question about the role of religious
ceremony. I'll start with an anecdote. Right in the middle of the heyday
of strict separation of church and state, there was
a poster that appeared in a California public
school and the poster read, "In the event of a nuclear attack,
the prohibition against prayer in public schools will be
temporarily suspended." [Laughter] And it speaks to
a question about the role of religious ceremony and authentic
religious ceremony in some instances in times of crisis and
need and the recognition that when 9/11 occurs we go
to the National Cathedral and hear religious
officials pray and discourse about some of the fundamentals. In times of real Force Majeure,
there is new cooperation between religious and
political officials in seeking to alleviate those
that have suffered. In times of great crisis like
the Civil Rights Movement when we're seeking to bring
our African-American friends into full communion in
America, politicians and clerics link arms walking
towards the achievement of some good and I think there's
some power in that, that Robert Bellah calls
the power of civil religion or what Emil Durkheim way back when called the necessary
religious elements of communal life. And I think the Supreme
Court in fits and starts over the last 40 years
has come to realize that the establishment clause
really can't rise to or descend to intrusion on or reinvestigation
of those kinds of forms of what the court calls ceremonial
deism, that there is a place for some of this [inaudible] and that the establishment clause
isn't designed to second guess or third guess that nor to
give an individual dissenter from that religious expression
a kind of heckler's veto that would stymy the expression of
those forms of religious ceremony, sometimes authentic and rich and
textured in their expression. I happen to find that a
congenial read and I happen to think Bellah got this right
and I think it speaks to ideas that Benjamin Franklin had way
back when in his first discussions of public religion with a
CK on public by the way, when he's thinking through about
the necessity of having some kind of common belief, some
kind of common values which sit atop the particular
sectarian expressions of values and the corporations that
gather around it in worship and property holding and more. And, as Chief Justice Burger said
in the case of Lynch v Donnelly, it's far too late in the day to
impose such a crabbed reading of the establishment clause that
would allow the Supreme Court to unearth those practices. I think on that one,
the chief got it right. >> John, Peter, Sally, thank
you for an extraordinary panel. [ Applause ] >> This has been a presentation
of the Library of Congress. Visit us at loc.gov.