"The poor without employment are like rough diamonds, their worth is unknown."
Thinking about diversity, inclusion and the Testimony to Equality in the Religious Society of Friends (Quakers)
Ah yes, the Quakers! They're good people. Didn't they play a big part in getting rid of slavery? Weren't they among the first to see that it was wrong?
Well no, actually. Quite a number of early Quakers were slave-owners - and that included William Penn, the man whose gigantic statue looms over Pennsylvania. He did think of freeing his slaves at one time - before one of his journeys he left a will setting them free if he died on the voyage - but he didn't actually do it and in the end he treated them as property and they passed to his heirs.
But didn't everyone believe in slavery then? No. They didn't. People who had been enslaved definitely thought it was a bad idea. That's why they rebelled so often. That's why some of them ran away when they had the chance - though that must have been a terrifying prospect in a land they didn't know. Pennsylvania enacted some pretty brutal laws to prevent enslaved people from talking to one another - and a state wouldn't pass laws like that unless the people in charge were pretty scared that the people they oppressed might conspire and rise up against them.
There were also Quakers who didn't believe in slavery - way back in William Penn's time and in Pennsylvania. Slavery was, after all, a pretty new enterprise on the scale adopted in the mid-17th century. It was taken up by the English government at just about the time Quakers were getting going. And some people found it appalling. Back in 1688 a protest was presented to the Quakers in Philadelphia signed by four Quakers in Germantown, Pennsylvania. It began: "These are the reasons why we are against the traffik of mens-body." The authors were Dutch and their English is clumsy but those words - "traffik of mens-body" - get right to the point of what slavery is. And the document goes on to point out all the reasons why it is wrong. It even points out the violence of slavery: that these people "have as much right to fight for their freedom, as you have to keep them slaves."
Quakers in Britain today don't hear much about the authors of the Germantown protest, even though one, Francis Pastorius, was a friend of William Penn, the subject of a poem by Whittier and is sometimes considered the first American poet. They're a bit of an embarrassment - a reminder that early Quakers not only got some things wrong but also that the wrong they did caused devastating damage to the lives of those they oppressed.
But isn't it time we learned at least as much about the bad bits of Quaker history as we're prepared to face when looking at the wrongs of the British Empire or our country's conduct in war? There can't be one rule for the British Empire and another rule for us. And while we're at it, perhaps we should find a way to acknowledge that the resistance of enslaved people helped Quakers understand that slavery was wrong and that when Quaker anti-slavery activities finally got going in the late 18th century, they weren't just drawing on Quaker thought but also on the activities of non-Quakers like Olaudah Equiano, who had once been the property of Quaker Robert King, and Ottobah Cugoano. These were men whose position in British society was far less easy than that of members of the Religious Society of Friends.
Thinking about the enslaved people and the Germantown protest isn't just a matter of being truthful about long-dead history. The past has formed who we are and where we are as a Society today. Who we choose to celebrate - whose words we include in Quaker Faith and Practice - tells us something of where we are now, and whose unhappiness we might prefer to ignore.
"Are there not different states, different degrees, different growths, different places? … Therefore, watch every one to feel and know his own place and service in the body, and to be sensible of the gifts, places, and services of others, that the Lord may be honoured in all, and every one owned and honoured in the Lord, and no otherwise."
It was written in 1667 but it's still listed as one of the "well-loved phrases" in Britain Yearly Meeting's current edition of Quaker Faith and Practice. I don't love it at all.
It's possible that Friends today aren't familiar with the way some of those words were used in the 17th century. But the word "degrees" following the word "states" go back to some arguments about class that were common enough in Shakespeare's day to surface in his plays. "Degree" and "state" or "estate" in this context mean something close to social and economic class. Knowing your "place and service" among Friends suggest the existence of a hierarchy that's not much different from the hierarchy in the rest of the world.
Warnings that individual Quakers should know their place and stay there aren't that uncommon, even among early Friends. An epistle from George Fox, quoted in Geoffrey Durham's The Spirit of the Quakers, includes the warning to Friends "of what trade or calling so ever" to:
"Go not beyond your estates, lest ye bring yourselves to trouble, and cumber, and a snare; keep low and down in all things ye act. ... "dwell every one of you under your own vine ... and seek not to be great ..."
Fox's epistle is concerned with many things, from avoiding debt, envy and lavish spending to the need to "dwell in the truth, justice, righteousness, and holiness." The word "estates" as used here seems concerned with both possessions and place in the world, since these were closely linked in the understanding of the time. This his words, like Pennington's, have an underlying tone of "Know your place and stay there."
These injunctions, still quoted and loved, have a chilling effect on my own wish to challenge existing hierarchies. I want to wave the banner of Quakers' testimony to Equality but are Quakers really that equal - and do they want to be? I don't know the answer. An enthusiasm to speak truth to power is rarely matched by a desire to hear truth spoken by the powerless - or even by a recognition that those with less power also have a truth to speak.
I'm cheered, however, by parts of the story of Mary Fisher. She was one of the group called the "Valiant Sixty" - the men and women who were also known as "publishers of truth." In the 1650s she as an illiterate housemaid she was convinced of the truth of Quakerism, as were all in the household where she was employed. When she told her employers that she felt a calling to preach, they released her from her employment and she went out with another woman, Elizabeth Williams, to preach in the streets of England. They were flogged as vagabonds. But Quakers taught Mary Fisher to read and write, They supported her ministry - and her ministry took her to Barbados, to America and to Turkey where she spoke with the Sultan and felt a special kinship with the Muslims she met, describing them as "more near truth than many nations" and speaking of her great love towards them.
Later Mary Fisher married twice and died in 1698 in South Carolina. There the story becomes less happy. At the time of her death she was a slave-owner and a human being was listed as part of her property. So I wonder how Mary Fisher was seen by other Quakers at the time. Was she seen as an exception, with special gifts and a calling that allowed her, uniquely, to be freed from the usual restriction of estate, degree and place? And was that, in the end, how she saw herself? Or was there a moment in the early history of Quakers when equality of people of all estates and degrees seemed possible and a harbinger of the Kingdom of Heaven on earth?
William Penn statue in 1894, prior to being placed on the pinnacle of City Hall, Philadelphia "Don't erase William Penn," th...