A sanctimony city and a sanctimony state milk politics for patronage

By Chris Powell

Two more tedious but true tales from the Sanctimony City and the Sanctimony State unfolded last week.

In New Haven dozens of people gathered at Trinity Church on the city’s green to mark the 200th anniversary of the last recorded sale of slaves in the city and Connecticut — two women who were paraded to the green and purchased by an abolitionist who eventually set them free. Last week’s gathering called itself a “service of lamentation and healing.”

---

Where did the parents go? And is poverty forever?

‘Mean’ is not an argument in transgender controversy

Rent control won’t build the housing Connecticut needs

---

Meanwhile at the state Capitol a legislative committee considered a resolution to condemn the Treaty of Hartford of 1638, which marked the end of the war between the Pequot Indian tribe and its adversaries — the English, Mohegan, and Narragansett tribes. The war killed most of the Pequots and the treaty sought to nullify the few who were left, bestowing them on their adversaries as slaves and prohibiting the tribe’s reconstitution.

Last week’s events implied that modern society bears some enduring guilt for the abominations of centuries past. Indeed, establishing this guilt seems to have been the political objective. This was mistaken and ironic.

Americans like to believe in their country’s exceptionalism, but slavery was and remains a worldwide phenomenon going back millennia and transcending nations and races. The slaves brought to the United States and delivered to white masters had been sold first in west Africa by other Black people. To some extent slavery continues today in Africa, the Middle East, and Asia. 

So in the larger context Connecticut’s connection to slavery may be more remarkable for the efforts to overthrow it than to sustain it. In any case no country ever fought a more devastating war to destroy slavery than the United States did.

But even as New Haveners gathered to “lament” and “heal” from the wrongs of two centuries ago, the city remained the scene of a devastating wrong for which no sanctimonious services of lamentation and healing are ever held. That is, most of the city’s children — members of racial and ethnic minorities, far more numerous than there were ever slaves in the state — lack parents, live in poverty, and fail in school. New Haven’s schools have the worst chronic absenteeism in the state and many of those schools are in terrible repair. Many of their students, undereducated and demoralized, graduate to a more subtle but far more prevalent form of slavery.

As for the Indian wars of almost four centuries ago, they were full of atrocities, though today it is politically correct to remember only those of the winning side. 

The massacre of the Pequots in May 1637 in what is now Groton was the most horrible thing ever to happen in Connecticut. But the Pequots started the war. The tribe’s very name meant “destroyers” and they already had made deadly enemies of the Mohegans and Narragansetts long before attacking the English settlement in Wethersfield in April 1637, killing nine unarmed people, including three women, kidnapping two women, and killing the settlement’s cattle. 

So a month later the English, Mohegans, and Narragansetts united in a conclusive slaughter.

While the Treaty of Hartford fairly can be called genocidal, it was itself a response to genocide in an era when genocide was common.

No morality is taught by the sanctimony that evoked these horrors last week. Slavery has had no constituency in Connecticut since those last slaves were sold in 1825. Nor is there any constituency here for genocide, though in modern war civilians are often killed.

But there is a selfish political constituency for mobilizing the horrors of the past. 

Sanctimoniously reminding people of slavery can intimidate them out of opposing the claims of racial minorities for more government patronage, though that patronage isn’t righting any wrongs.

And sanctimoniously reminding people of the Treaty of Hartford may insulate the absurd patronage enshrined in state law whereby the ultra-distant descendants of the ancient Pequots, the victims of genocide, share a casino duopoly with the ultra-distant descendants of the ancient Mohegans, that genocide’s co-perpetrators.

---

Chris Powell has written about Connecticut government and politics for many years. (CPowell@cox.net)

-END-