Pleading the 14th Amendment: More Than Freedom by Stephen Kantrowitz (2012)

Spanning the years 1829-1889, black Americans' fight for freedom, and subsequently, citizenship, was in constant transition, and would continue to be well into the present-day. Although nominal citizenship was bestowed by the Federal Government via the 14th Amendment in 1868, the social, economic and political privileges that accompanied white citizenship were not that of "colored citizenship" during this era.

In his book More than freedom: Fighting for Black Citizenship in a White Republic, 1829-1889, author Stephen Kantrowitz writes that after the Civil War, the community of blacks in Boston, Massachusetts were instrumental in the "remaking of the postemancipation South" and pressed for "broader and more capacious laws of equal citizenship" while "insisting that whites who continued to exclude them by law or custom stood in opposition to the victorious Union and the egalitarian 'spirit of the age,'" (Kantrowitz 4). By stating that citizenship was validated both by law and by custom, Kantrowitz opens the door to the spectrum of equality in 19th-century America across race, class and gender. Whereas white male citizens had private property rights and suffrage, black males - and at a much slower rate, black women - were granted these rights in name only at first, and over time, made strides towards full engagement and respect in the milieu. Kantrowitz does adequately well in taking the time to discuss what black women activists were doing alongside the men, but several well-known female freedom fighters were left out, leaving to the imagination the concept of "citizenry' for a women. This book defines citizenship as being both the legal and social attainment of equal standing with any other (male) American.

Symbolically, blacks were squared off against the 'Slave Power' that had (for lack of a better word) enslaved white America since the 1700s. The Fugitive Slave Law of 1850 was the litmus test of citizenship in that non-citizens were slaves and only citizens could vote to repeal the law. Nonetheless, Kantrowitz displays black resistance during these year as well as during and after the Civil War. Between 1829 and 1860, blacks claimed their own citizen status by establishing their own institutions and meeting places such as churches, conventions, schools and lodges that housed the Prince Hall Freemasons, an organization that the author stresses in its significance. The Freemasons embraced principles of universal citizenship and white British members initiated the first black members in 1775 after they were previously rejected by colonial Freemasonries. In Boston, black nomenclature for self-identification presented the race as "African" first in the 1700s and later as "people of color" (1830s), "Negro," "colored Americans," "Africamericans," and occasionally as the "nominally free" (35). Consider also the fact that the Boston Public School System was desegregated in 1855 and a strong sense of black patriotism with frequent references to Crispus Attucks' martyrdom during the American Revolution. In fact, the source of inspiration for the struggle most present to Black Bostonians was the American Revolution and not the Haitian Revolution. Kantrowitz chooses to focus on the former, but in light of emancipation in contemporary societies, it would have enhanced the book even more to see how blacks were borrowing from or contributing to the global trend of freedom during this era. Black Boston was literate and engaged and perhaps historical documentation might connect them to the movement beyond their borders (domestic and international) in a meaningful and relevant way.

During the War years, blacks immersed themselves in military service to the objections of the law and white society. When blacks were not permitted to join the military (although they had served in previous wars) or the city militias, they created their own drill companies. With the passing of the Militia Act of 1862, blacks gained (nominal) citizenship and the employment opportunities afforded them by the military, although equal  pay with white laborers would be inferior for generations to come. After Emancipation, the passage of the 13th, 14th and 15th amendments freed the slaves, granted citizenship and voting rights, but the portion of Kantrowitz' book that deals with these years is appropriately titled "The Disappointments of Citizenship." The disappointment is that the fight for equality was only beginning and was perhaps, more heated and protectionist than before Emancipation. In that light, abolition was a "necessary but insufficient" stepping stone of citizenship, and Kantowitz is careful to delineate the abolitionist battles that ceased in 1864 from the activist battles that are perpetual.

Is this book a history of the path to citizenship for blacks in America? Or of the path to citizenship for black Bostonians? To a large extent, it is the latter, as Boston's geography, status as the crucible of American independence, and early establishment made it a petri dish for revolution and revolutionary ideas. In that sense, it's a community history of local characters with a shared goal. But to what extent did the revolutionary ideas of Black Boston resonates and reflect those of Blacks elsewhere? Did all blacks desire inclusion over segregation? There was likely division among Blacks in other states and territories over this point as as there was in Boston when the setting for change was the classroom. So in that sense, Kantrowitz' periodization and characterization of Black Boston can be extended more generally to the masses of enslaved and free Blacks of the time across the nation.