Latest / The Rise of Colonialism: How Europe Divided the World — Fexingo History / The Ghost Fleet of the Atlantic Slave Trade
Transcript
- Lucas: We've spent a lot of time talking about the maps drawn by empires—the Treaty of Tordesillas splitting the globe, the Berlin Conference carving up Africa with straight lines. But there's another way the world was divided, one that didn't happen at a conference table, but across the dark waters of the Atlantic. It’s the story of the Middle Passage. Luna: The forced migration of millions? Lucas: Exactly. Between the sixteenth and nineteenth centuries, roughly twelve million Africans were captured, transported, and sold into slavery in the Americas. It wasn't just random violence; it was an industrial-scale system. European powers built navies and financial markets around the efficient transport of human beings. Luna: It feels almost too large to comprehend. Lucas: It is. And what makes it particularly chilling is how it persisted even after nations declared it illegal. The British banned the trade in 1807, and the US followed in 1808. But the demand for cotton and sugar kept growing, so the market adapted. Smuggling became a lucrative side industry for those willing to risk the new naval patrols. Luna: So they just kept going? Lucas: They did. And one of the most haunting examples happened right before the Civil War. In 1860, a wooden schooner named the Clotilda slipped past the US Coast Guard blockade off the coast of Alabama. It carried nearly one hundred and fifteen people directly from West Africa to Mobile Bay. Luna: That was twenty years after it was illegal in the US. Lucas: Yes, and the captain, William Foster, knew exactly what he was doing. He had already scuttled the ship in the Mobile River immediately after docking, destroying the evidence. But you can burn a boat, you can't burn the people who survived it. Those survivors formed a community called Africatown. Luna: I haven't heard of Africatown specifically. Lucas: It’s a neighborhood in Mobile that still exists today. It was founded by the freedmen and women from the Clotilda, led by a man named Cudjoe Kale. They refused to be scattered among other plantations. Instead, they pooled their resources to buy land and create their own town, keeping their African names and traditions alive in the heart of the South. Luna: That must have been incredibly difficult to maintain. Lucas: It was. But their resilience is documented through oral histories recorded by folklorist Zora Neale Hurston in the 1920s. She interviewed Cudjoe Kale and others, capturing their voices in their own words. It’s rare to have such direct testimony from survivors of the very end of the trade. One elder described the ship using a word I’ve always found striking—he called it a Trombone because of its shape. Luna: A trombone? Because of the hull? Lucas: Yes, the narrow, curved hull of the Clotilda reminded him of the instrument. It’s a small detail, but it grounds the horror in something tangible. These weren't abstract statistics; they were men and women who remembered the specific wood of the deck, the smell of the cargo hold, and the sound of the waves. Luna: It’s a powerful image. Lucas: It is. And while the Clotilda was the last known ship to bring captives to the US, it was part of a much larger pattern. Earlier, in 1839, the Spanish ship La Amistad had sparked an international crisis when the enslaved Mende people rebelled mid-Atlantic. Their successful takeover and subsequent legal battle in the US Supreme Court drew global attention to the brutality of the trade. Luna: Did that stop anything? Lucas: It slowed it down, but it didn't stop it. The economic incentives were simply too strong. In Brazil, which received more enslaved Africans than any other country, the trade continued until 1850. In Cuba, it lasted until 1867. The legal bans created a shadow economy where risk was high, but profits were astronomical. Luna: Who funded these illegal voyages? Lucas: Often, it was syndicates of private investors in Liverpool, New York, and Havana. They would hire captains like William Foster, providing them with contracts to deliver 'cargo' regardless of the origin. The ships were often fast, rigged like merchant vessels, but modified with hidden compartments to squeeze in more people. It was a race against the Royal Navy’s West Africa Squadron, which patrolled the coast to intercept slavers. Luna: Did the navy catch many of them? Lucas: They did, and when they did, the conditions were horrific. Survivors were often liberated and pressed into labor in Sierra Leone or Jamaica as apprentices, though that system was flawed in its own right. For those who made it to places like the US or Brazil, life meant back-breaking labor and constant surveillance. Yet, as we saw with Africatown, they found ways to build community. Luna: Building community in the face of that. Lucas: Precisely. The division of the world wasn't just about drawing borders on maps. It was about drawing boundaries between people—separating families, stripping languages, and imposing racial hierarchies that lasted for generations. The legacy of that division is still visible in the demographics and social structures of the Americas today. Luna: It’s hard to separate that history from modern issues. Lucas: It is. When we look at the wealth disparities in the United States, or the cultural influences in Brazil, we’re seeing the long tail of the Middle Passage. The Clotilda survivors didn't just survive; they shaped the culture of Mobile. You can still hear Yoruba influences in local dialects and music, a testament to their refusal to be erased. Luna: That kind of endurance is remarkable. Lucas: It is. And it reminds us that colonialism wasn't just a top-down imposition by empires. It was also resisted, day by day, by individuals who held onto their identity against all odds. The map may have been divided by treaties, but the people carved out their own spaces within it. Luna: I think about Cudjoe Kale a lot. Lucas: He’s a vital figure. His interviews with Hurston are some of the most important historical documents of the twentieth century. They give voice to a generation that bridged two worlds—the Africa they lost and the America they were forced to inhabit. Luna: Do we know how old he was when the Clotilda arrived? Lucas: Estimates vary, but he was likely a young man in his twenties when he was brought over. He lived to be quite old, passing away in 1935. By then, the world had changed dramatically, but he remained a respected elder in Africatown, a living link to the past. Luna: A living link. Lucas: Yes. And today, Africatown is working to preserve its heritage. There are efforts to memorialize the Clotilda wreck, which was finally located in 2019, and to honor the founders. It’s a slow process of reckoning, acknowledging a chapter of history that many preferred to forget. Luna: Why do you think it was so easy to ignore? Lucas: Because it was inconvenient. Acknowledging the scale of the trade forces us to confront the foundations of modern capitalism. Much of the wealth that built the Northern states and Europe was derived from this brutal exchange. It’s easier to treat it as a distant evil than to see its roots in our current systems. Luna: That’s a heavy realization. Lucas: It is. But ignoring it doesn't make it go away. The scars are deep, but so is the resilience. Stories like Cudjoe Kale’s remind us that humanity persists, even when empires try to divide and destroy it. Luna: Thank you for sharing that perspective. Lucas: My pleasure. It’s important work. Luna: If this conversation has resonated with you, consider supporting the show. It helps keep these stories ad-free and accessible. You can find the link at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. Lucas: Even a small contribution helps us continue digging into these histories. Thanks for listening. Luna: Let's get back to the water. Lucas: Right. Beyond the Clotilda, there were other routes of division. In the Pacific, European powers were also dividing territories, often ignoring indigenous claims entirely. It’s a parallel story of displacement. Luna: How did the Pacific compare to the Atlantic? Lucas: It was different in scale but similar in intent. While the Atlantic was driven by plantation economies, the Pacific was driven by resource extraction—guano, sandalwood, and later, nickel. But the impact on indigenous populations was equally devastating, leading to population collapses from disease and displacement. Luna: Sandalwood was a big driver? Lucas: Yes, especially in Vanuatu and Fiji. Traders would arrive, trade axes and guns for sandalwood, and leave. But the disruption to local societies was profound. Wars broke out over access to European goods, and diseases swept through islands that had never encountered them before. Luna: It sounds chaotic. Lucas: It was. And then came the missionaries and the colonizers, who stepped in to 'restore order.' That order usually meant imposing European law and land ownership systems, further eroding traditional structures. It’s another layer of how the world was divided. Luna: And who controlled those divisions? Lucas: Britain, France, Germany, and later the US and Japan. Each power claimed protectorates or colonies, often pitting island groups against each other. The map of the Pacific became a patchwork of imperial interests, rarely reflecting the cultural realities of the people who lived there. Luna: Just like Africa and Asia. Lucas: Exactly. It was a global phenomenon. Whether it was the slave ships of the Atlantic or the sandalwood traders of the Pacific, the result was the same: the subjugation of indigenous peoples and the extraction of resources for European gain. Luna: It feels like a unified strategy. Lucas: In many ways, it was. The ideas of racial superiority and civilizing missions justified the actions across all continents. Once established, these ideologies spread, reinforcing the divisions everywhere. It’s a complex web, but understanding one thread helps explain the whole tapestry. Luna: I’m glad we started with the Clotilda. Lucas: Me too. It puts a human face on the statistics. And it reminds us that history isn't just about dates and treaties—it's about the people who lived through them, and the communities they built in the aftermath. Luna: A lasting legacy. Lucas: Indeed. We’ll explore more of those Pacific threads next time. Until then, keep looking at the maps, and ask who drew the lines.