The Roots of Black Slavery

by Dr. William L. Pierce
Slavery and cannibalism are traditional in Black Africa.
ONE OF THE PRINCIPAL ELEMENTS in the mythology of racial equality being propagated by the mass media, the schools, the churches, and numerous governmental agencies in America today is that of White responsibility for the Negro’s servile status in the past. According to the mythmakers it was the White man’s greed for the Black man’s labor which brought about the institution of Black slavery.
Prior to White encroachments into Africa south of the Sahara, beginning around the start of the 16th century, so the myth goes, Black Africans lived in a state of rustic innocence in their thatched huts, happily busying themselves with farming, handicrafts, colorful festivities, charming native customs, and so on. Then the cruel and rapacious White slave traders suddenly appeared on this blissful scene with their guns, brutally rounded up Blacks, packed them aboard slave ships, and sent them off to a life of slavery and misery in America.
“Whites didn’t start Black slavery; they stamped it out.”
That is the way the story went in the widely ballyhooed TV drama Roots, and that is about the way it goes in the newer history textbooks approved for use in the public schools. It is the “guilt” associated with this alleged enslavement of the Black race by our ancestors that Christian preachers and Federal bureaucrats alike use as a moral bludgeon to coerce a reluctant White majority in America into going along with the racial hiring and promotion quotas, the forced housing and forced busing schemes, and the thousand other racially destructive programs which characterize the policy of the ruling System.
The same myth is used to excuse the bloodiest and most savage depredations of the Black descendants of slaves against the White descendants of slaveholders today. The extraordinarily high incidence of violent Black crime in America is passed off as a manifestation of “Black rage,” justified by past and present inequities.
In the closing years of the 19th century and the early years of this century, when many of our information media were still in the hands of the Gentile majority, such a myth could not be successfully propagated. Those were also the years when Whites were first becoming acquainted with Blacks in their natural state in the interior of sub-Saharan Africa, and there was a great deal of public interest in the reports of the White missionaries and explorers who pushed beyond the coastal trading posts into the dark heart of Africa. These reports were widely published in such journals asNational Geographic, Harper’s New Monthly Magazine, and The Century Magazine.
“Full of Christian charity…”
The authors of the reports were generally men full of Christian charity and fuzzy notions of interracial brotherhood, and they were writing for a readership still under the baleful influence of the abolitionist propaganda which had brought on the fratricidal disaster of the Civil War a few decades earlier. Yet they wrote truthfully about things they saw and experienced, and the facts they reported spoke for themselves.
Those facts spoke of African slavery, not as an alien institution introduced or sustained by the White man, but as a wholly indigenous institution, as widespread and as natural among Black Africans as the building of their thatched huts, the practice of voodoo rites, or the celebration of their many festivals, and with roots just as deep. All the evidence, in fact, indicates that the Black tribes of Africa had been enslaving one another, both for food and labor, since time immemorial. It was the White man’s intervention which eventually resulted in a substantial curtailment of African slavery and cannibalism, even though these practices still persist to a certain extent in Africa today.
And African slavery, as practiced by the Blacks, was a far more brutal and cruel institution than anything perpetrated on Blacks by White slave merchants. A salient feature of the reports by White missionaries and explorers in this regard was the bloodthirsty cruelty of Blacks in their natural state, their utter disregard for any life but their own, and their total lack of any sense of compassion for suffering fellow creatures.
There is a tendency today to dismiss as wholly self-serving the earlier claims of White slaveholders who defended their ownership of Blacks on humanitarian grounds, but the stark reality of African life in its natural state supports these claims-and it also gives us a new understanding of the Black predilection for especially savage and cruel acts of violence in America today.
Let us allow the facts now to speak for themselves. Everything which follows has been excerpted from a firsthand report titled “The Slave Trade in the Congo Basin.” It was written by E.J. Glave, an associate of the noted explorer, Sir Henry M. Stanley, and it was first published in the April 1890 issue of The Century Magazine.
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Author and explorer E.J. Glave

Author and explorer E.J. Glave
“The heart of Africa is being rapidly depopulated in consequence of the enormous death toll caused by the barbarous slave-trade. It is not merely the bondage which slavery implies that should appeal to the sympathies of the civilized world; it is the bloodshed, cruelty, and misery which it involves.
“During my residence in Central Africa I was repeatedly traveling about in the villages along the Congo River and its almost unknown affluents, and in every new village I was confronted by fresh evidences of the horrible nature of this evil. I did not seek to witness the sufferings attendant upon this traffic in humanity, but cruelties of all kinds are so general that the mere passing visits which I paid brought me in constant contact with them….
“I first went to the Congo in 1883, and traveled without delay into the interior. Arriving at Stanley Pool, I received orders from my chief, Mr. Henry M. Stanley, to accompany him up river on his little boat the En Avant. Stanley at that time was engaged in establishing a few posts at important and strategic points along the upper river. Lukolela, eight hundred miles in the interior, was one decided upon, and I had the honor of being selected by him as chief of this post… Here I lived for twenty months, the only white man, so that I had every opportunity of studying native character and customs….
“At Lukolela… I had hardly settled down in my encampment when I was introduced to one of those horrible scenes of bloodshed which take place frequently in all the villages along the Congo, and which will be enacted so long as the life of a slave is counted as naught, and the spilling of his blood of as little account as that of a goat or a fowl.
“In this particular instance the mother of a chief having died, it was decided, as usual, to celebrate the evening with an execution. At the earliest streak of dawn the slow, measured beat of a big drum announces to all what is to take place, and warns the poor slave who is to be the victim that his end is nigh. It is very evident that something unusual is about to happen, and that the day is to be given up to some ceremony. The natives gather in groups and begin studiously to arrange their toilets, don their gayest loin-cloths, and ornament their legs and arms with bright metal bangles, all the time indulging in wild gesticulations and savage laughter as they discuss the coming event. Having taken a hasty meal, they produce from their houses all available musical instruments. The drums are wildly beaten as groups of men, women, and children form themselves in circles and excitedly perform dances, consisting of violent contortions of the limbs, accompanied with savage singing with repeated blasts of the war horns, each dancer trying outdo his fellow in violence of movement and strength of lung.
“Strapped to a stake…”
“About noon, from sheer exhaustion, combined with the heat of the sun, they are compelled to cease; then large jars of palm wine are produced, and a general bout of intoxication begins, increasing their excitement and showing up their savage nature in striking colors. The poor slave, who all this time has been lying in the corner of some hut, shackled hand and foot and closely watched, suffering the agony and suspense which this wild tumult suggests to him, is now carried to some prominent part of the village, there to be surrounded and to receive to the jeers and scoffs of the drunken mob of savages. The executioner’s assistants, having selected a suitable place for the ceremony, procure a block of wood about a foot square. The slave is then placed on this in a sitting posture; his legs are stretched out straight in front of him; the body is strapped to a stake reaching up the back to the shoulders. On each side stakes are placed under the armpits as props, to which the arms are firmly bound; other lashings are made to posts driven into the ground near the ankles and knees.
“A pole is now planted about ten feet in front of the victim, from the top of which is suspended, by a number of strings, a bamboo ring. The pole is bent over like a fishing-rod, and the ring fastened round the slave’s neck, which is kept rigid and stiff by the tension. During this preparation the dances are resumed, now rendered savage and brutal in the extreme by the drunken condition of the people. One group of dancers surround the victim and indulge in drunken mimicry of the contortions of face which the pain caused by this cruel torture forces him to show. But he has no sympathy to expect from this merciless horde.
“Presently in the distance approaches a company of two lines of young people, each holding a stem of the palm tree, so that an arch is formed between them, under which the executioner is escorted. The whole procession moves with a slow but dancing gait. Upon arriving near the doomed slave all dancing, singing, and drumming cease, and the drunken mob take their places to witness the last act of the drama.
“An unearthly silence succeeds. The executioner wears a cap composed of black cocks’ feathers; his face and neck are blackened with charcoal, except the eyes, the lids of which are painted with white chalk. The hands and arms to the elbow, and feet and legs to the knee, are also blackened. His legs are adorned profusely with broad metal anklets, and around his waist are strung wild-cat skins. As he performs a wild dance around his victim, every now and then making a feint with his knife, a murmur of admiration arises from the assembled crowd. He then approaches and makes a thin chalk mark on the neck of the fated man. After two or three passes of the knife, to get the right swing, he delivers the fated blow, and with one stroke of his keen-edged weapon severs the head from the body.
“The sight of the blood brings to a climax the frenzy of the natives; some of them savagely puncture the quivering trunk with their spears, others hack at it with their knives, while the remainder engage in a ghastly struggle for the possession of the head, which has been jerked into the air by the released tension of the sapling. As each man obtains the trophy, and is pursued by the drunken rabble, the hideous tumult becomes deafening; they smear one another’s faces with blood, and fights always spring up as a result, when knives and spears are freely used….
“When the taste for blood has been to a certain extent satisfied, they again resume their singing and dancing while another victim is prepared, when the same ghastly exhibition is repeated. Sometimes as many as twenty slaves will be slaughtered in one day. The dancing and general drunken uproar is continued until midnight, when once more absolute silence ensues, in utter contrast to the hideous tumult of the day.
“I had frequently heard the natives boast of the skill of their executioners, but I doubted their ability to decapitate a man with one blow of the soft metal knives they use. I imagined they would be compelled to hack the head from the body. When I witnessed this sickening spectacle I was alone, unarmed, and absolutely powerless to interfere. But the mute agony of this poor black martyr, who was to die for no crime, but simply because he was a slave — whose every piteous movement was mocked by frenzied savages, and whose very death throes gave the signal for the unrestrained outburst of a hideous carnival of drunken savagery — appealed so strongly to my sense of duty that I decided upon preventing by force any repetition of this scene…
“All tribes I have known have an idea of immortality. They believe that death leads but to another life, to be continued under the same conditions as the life they are now leading; and a chief thinks that if when he enters into this new existence he is accompanied by a sufficient following of slaves he will be entitled to the same rank in the next world as he holds in this. From this belief emanates one of their most barbarous customs — the ceremony of human sacrifices upon the death of any one of importance. Upon the decease of a chief, a certain number of his slaves are selected to be sacrificed, that their spirits may accompany him to the next world. Should this chief possess thirty men and twenty women, seven or eight of the former and six or seven of the latter will suffer death. The men are decapitated, and the women are strangled. When a woman is sacrificed she is adorned with bright metal bangles, her toilet is carefully attended to, her hair is neatly plaited, and bright-colored cloths are wrapped around her. Her hands are then pinioned behind, and her neck is passed through a noose of cord; the long end of the cord is led over the branch of the nearest tree, and is drawn taut at a given signal; and while the body is swinging in mid-air its convulsive movements are imitated with savage gusto by the spectators. It often happens that a little child also becomes a victim to this horrible ceremony, by being placed in the grave alive, as a pillow for the dead chief. These executions are still perpetrated in all the villages of the Upper Congo.
“But the life of the slave is not only forfeited at the death of the chief of the tribe in which fate has cast his lot. Let us supposed that the tribe he is owned by has been maintaining an internecine warfare with another tribe in the same district. For some reason it is deemed politic by the chief to bring the feud to an end, and a meeting is arranged with his rival. At the conclusion of the interview, in order that the treaty of peace may be solemnly ratified, blood must be spilled.
“Buried alive with only the head left above the ground…”
“A slave is therefore selected, and the mode of torture preceding his death will vary in different districts. In the Ubangi River district the slave is suspended head downwards from the branch of a tree, and there left to die. But even more horrible is the fate of such a one at Chumbiri, Bolobo, or the large villages around Irebu, where the expiatory victim is actually buried alive with only the head left above the ground. All his bones have first been crushed or broken, and in speechless agony he waits for death….
“[The Lolo] villages are constantly attacked by the powerful roving tribes of the Lufembe and Ngombe. These two tribes are voracious cannibals. They surround the Lolo villages at night, and at the first signs of dawn pounce down upon the unsuspecting Balolo, killing all the men who resist and catching all the rest. They then select the stronger portion of their captives, and shackle them hand and foot to prevent their escape. The remainder they kill, distributing the flesh among themselves. As a rule, after such a raid they form a small encampment; they light their fires, seize all the bananas in the village, and gorge upon the human flesh. They then march over to one of the numerous slave markets on the river, where they exchange the captives with the slave-traders of the Lulungu River for beads, cloth, brass wire, and other trinkets. The slave-traders pack the slaves into their canoes and take them down to the villages on the Lulungu River where the more important markets are held. Masankusu, situated at the junction of the Lupuri and Malinga tributaries, is by far the most important slave-trading center. The people of Masankusu buy their slaves from the Lufembe and Ngombe raiders, and sell them to the Lulungu natives and traders from down river. The slaves are exhibited for sale at Masankusu in long sheds, or rather under simple grass roofs supported on long poles. It is heartrending to see the inmates of one of these slave-sheds….
A captive

A captive
“They are hobbled with roughly hewn logs which chafe their limbs to open sores; sometimes a whole tree presses its weight on their bodies while their necks are penned into the natural prong formed by its branching limbs. Others sit from day to day with their legs and arms maintained in a fixed position by rudely constructed stocks, and each slave is secured to the roof-posts by a cord knotted to a cane ring which either encircles his neck or is intertwined with his woolly hair. Many die of pure starvation, as the owners give them barely enough food to exist upon, and even that they grudge them. These hungry creatures form indeed a truly pitiable sight. After suffering this captivity for a short time they become mere skeletons. All ages, of both sexes, are to be seen; mothers with their babes; young men and women; boys and girls; and even babies who cannot yet walk, and whose mothers have died of starvation, or perhaps been killed by the Lufembe. One seldom sees either old men or old women; they are all killed in the raids; their marketable value being very small, no trouble is taken with them….
A slave shed

A slave shed
“There were certainly five hundred slaves exposed for sale in this one village alone. Large canoes were constantly arriving from down river, with merchandise of all kinds with which they purchased these slaves. A large trade is carried on between the Ubangi and Lulungu rivers. The people inhabiting the mouth of the Ubangi buy the Balolo slaves at Masankusu and the other markets. They then take them up the Ubangi River and exchange them with the natives there for ivory. These natives buy their slaves solely for food. Having purchased slaves they feed them on ripe bananas, fish, and oil, and when they get them into good conditions they kill them. Hundreds of the Balolo slaves are taken into the river and disposed of in this way each month. A great many other slaves are sold to the large villages on the Congo, to supply victims for the execution ceremonies.
Left to starve
“Much life is lost in the capturing of slaves, and during their captivity many succumb to starvation. Of the remainder, numbers are sold to become victims to cannibalism and human sacrifice ceremonies. There are few indeed who are allowed to live and prosper.
“Cannibalism exists among all the peoples on the Upper Congo east of 16 E. longitude, and is prevalent to an even greater extent among the people inhabiting the banks of the numerous affluents. During a two-months’ voyage on the Ubangi River I was constantly brought into contact with cannibalism. The natives there pride themselves upon the number of skulls they possess, denoting the number of victims they have been able to obtain. I saw one native hut, around which was built a raised platform of clay a foot wide, on which were placed rows of human skulls, forming a ghastly picture, but one of which the chief was very proud, as he signified by the admiring way he drew my attention to the sight. Bunches of twenty and thirty skulls were hung about in prominent positions in the village. I asked one young chief, who was certainly not more than twenty-five years old, how many men he had eaten in his village, and he answered me thirty. He was greatly astonished at the horror I expressed at his answer. In one village again, as I had bought a tusk of ivory, the natives thought perhaps I might buy skulls, and several armfuls were brought down to my boat within a few minutes….
“During my first visit to the upper waters of the Malinga River cannibalism was brought to my notice in a ghastly manner. One night I heard a woman’s piercing shriek, followed by a stifled, gurgling moan; then boisterous laughter, when all again became silent. In the morning I was horrified to see a native offering for sale to my men a piece of human flesh, the skin of which bore the tribal tattoo mark of the Balolo. I afterwards learned that the cry we had heard at night was from a female slave whose throat had been cut. I was absent from this village of Malinga for ten days. On my return I inquired if any further bloodshed had taken place, and was informed that five other women had been killed.
“While in the Ruki River at the beginning of this year, I was furnished with another proof of the horrible fate of the slaves. At Esenge, a village near which I stopped to cut wood for my steamer, I heard ominous beating of drums and outbreaks of excited mirth. I was informed by one of the natives from the village that an execution was taking place. To my inquiry whether they were in the habit of eating human flesh, he replied, ‘We eat the body entirely.’ I further asked what they did with the head. ‘Eat it,’ he replied; ‘but first we put it in the fire to singe the hair off.’…”
*  *  *
Thus, the Black man in his natural environment — not observed at some awkward moment, during a time of turmoil, when the worst in him may have been temporarily brought out, but just as he had been for countless thousands of years before the arrival of the first White man. Only fools can believe that any fundamental change has taken place in his nature during the last 90 years.
From National Vanguard No. 75, 1980
transcribed by Vanessa Neubauer from the book The Best of Attack! and National Vanguard, edited by Kevin Alfred Strom

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