(OAKLAND – September 15, 2024) – The African American journey from slavery to the present has been one of both remarkable progress and continuous struggle. The complexities of freedom and liberation within this experience highlight not only the political and social battles fought but also the profound spiritual and psychological transformations that have occurred over centuries. While freedom may have been granted in a legal sense at various points in American history, liberation is a more holistic and ongoing process that touches on the soul, consciousness, and collective identity of African Americans.
The Chains of Slavery
The Absence of Both Freedom and Liberation
The period of chattel slavery in the United States (1619–1865) was marked by a brutal dehumanization of African Americans. Enslaved individuals were subjected to systemic control that stripped them not only of their physical freedom but also their cultural and spiritual identities. Slavery was not just about physical bondage but also about erasing African roots and controlling the enslaved through a combination of violence, legal codes, and ideology.
The loss of freedom was obvious: slaves were legally considered property and had no autonomy over their bodies, their labor, or their families. However, the deeper tragedy was the spiritual damage done by slavery. Religion was manipulated by slaveholders to justify the institution, with selective readings of the Bible being used to convince slaves that submission was their God-ordained fate.
For African Americans, the journey toward liberation would involve reclaiming their own spiritual narratives and transforming Christianity into a tool of resistance and ope, a theme expressed poignantly in the spirituals—songs of faith, longing, and resistance.
The spiritual songs of enslaved African Americans, such as “Wade in the Water,” “Steal Away,” and “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,” encapsulated a theology of hope and liberation that stood in stark contrast to the oppressive use of religion by slaveholders. These spirituals served a dual purpose: on the surface, they were expressions of faith and perseverance, but beneath, they often held hidden meanings related to escape, resistance, and solidarity.
For instance, “Go Down, Moses” draws on the biblical narrative of Moses leading the Israelites out of Egyptian slavery, creating a powerful parallel to the African American experience:
“Go down, Moses, way down in Egypt’s land / Tell old Pharaoh to let my people go.”
The story of Moses and the Exodus became a profound symbol of liberation theology for African Americans. The yearning for freedom was not just a legal status but a spiritual redemption—a reclaiming of dignity, personhood, and community.
Legal Freedom, but Not True Liberation
The Emancipation Proclamation in 1863 and the subsequent 13th Amendment in 1865 were monumental steps in ending slavery, but these acts granted only legal freedom. The material conditions of African Americans remained largely unchanged in the years following emancipation. Enslaved people were technically free, but they faced a new system of oppression: sharecropping, Black Codes, and Jim Crow laws, which functioned to maintain the economic and social control over Black Americans.
W. E. B. Du Bois articulated this duality of freedom and unfreedom in his seminal work “The Souls of Black Folk.” While the 13th Amendment had legally abolished slavery, Du Bois pointed out that African Americans remained in a state of semi-freedom, held down by institutionalized racism. He coined the term double-consciousness to describe the internal struggle African Americans faced as they navigated a society that saw them as inferior:
“It is a peculiar sensation, this double-consciousness, this sense of always looking at one’s self through the eyes of others, of measuring one’s soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity.”
Du Bois highlighted the psychological burden placed on African Americans who, even after slavery, had to reconcile their desire for full humanity with a society that still denied them equality. The Freedmen’s Bureau and post-Civil War Reconstruction efforts, while initially promising, fell short of delivering true liberation as they were undermined by White supremacist backlash and the rise of segregation.
The Black Church played a pivotal role in the spiritual and social liberation of African Americans post-emancipation. Throughout slavery and into the Reconstruction era, the church was more than a place of worship—it was a community center, a place of resistance, and a source of leadership. Figures such as Sojourner Truth and Harriet Tubman—both deeply religious—exemplified how Christianity could be a tool for liberation, rather than subjugation.
Theological Empowerment
Theologian, Dr. James H. Cone said in his book, “A Black Theology of Liberation”:
“It will be evident therefore, this book is written primarily for the black community, not for whites. Whites may read it, and to some degree render an intellectual analyst of it, but in authentic understanding is dependent on the Blackness of their existence in the world. There will be no peace in America until whites begin to hate their whiteness, asking from the depths of their being, “How can we become black?”
I hope that if enough whites begin to ask this question, this country will no logner be divided on the basis of color. But until then, it is the task of the Christian theologian to do thelogy in the light of concreteness of human oppression as expressed in color, and to interpret for the oppressed the meaning of God’s Liberation in their community.”
Dr. Michael Carter, Sr.
The liberation theology that developed within the Black Church provided a framework through which African Americans could reimagine their relationship with God, no longer as one of subservience but as one of empowerment. This theology emphasized the idea that God was on the side of the oppressed, and that Christ’s message was one of justice, equality, and freedom.
“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere… We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny.”
King’s message was one of nonviolent resistance, rooted deeply in Christian theology but also focused on political action. His leadership in the Montgomery Bus Boycott, the March on Washington, and other key moments in the Civil Rights Movement exemplified the fusion of spiritual liberation with a demand for social justice. For King, liberation was not merely the absence of segregation; it was the reconciliation of the American soul with the moral imperative of equality.
The Civil Rights Movement (1950s–1960s) represented a more concerted effort to achieve full liberation—not only from legal forms of segregation but from the deep-seated racism that permeated American society. African Americans sought not just the right to vote or desegregate schools, but the dismantling of systems that reinforced White supremacy.
While legal victories like the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965 were critical milestones, they did not achieve total liberation. Figures like Malcolm X and Stokely Carmichael (later known as Kwame Ture) began to articulate more radical ideas of Black liberation, emphasizing self-determination, Black pride, and economic empowerment.
Malcolm X’s vision of liberation extended beyond the integrationist goals of the mainstream Civil Rights Movement. He advocated for a pan-African identity, linking the struggles of African Americans to those of colonized peoples around the world. His rhetoric moved from demanding civil rights to asserting the need for human rights and self-defense against systemic violence:
“We declare our right on this earth…to be a human being, to be respected as a human being, to be given the rights of a human being in this society, on this earth, in this day, which we intend to bring into existence by any means necessary.”
Luke 4
Dr. Cone said:
“Where persons or oppressed because they are black. Christian theology must become black theology of theology. That unreservedly. Identified with the goals of the oppressed and seeks to interpret the Divine character of their struggle for Liberation. Black theology is a phrase that is particularly appropriate for contemporary America, because of his symbolic power to convey both what whites mean by oppression. And what blacks mean? By Liberation. However, I am convinced that the patterns of meaning centered in the idea of black theology, or by no means restricted to The American scene for Blackness symbolizes oppression and Liberation in any society.
Psychological Liberation: Reclaiming Identity and Healing
As African Americans struggled for civil rights and political power, there was also an ongoing battle for psychological liberation—a process of healing from the internalized trauma of slavery and centuries of racism. This form of liberation is deeply tied to identity and self-worth, and it has been explored in depth by intellectuals and activists like James Baldwin, Toni Morrison, and Bell Hooks.
James Baldwin, in his powerful essays and novels, grappled with the ways in which both Black and White Americans had been psychologically damaged by the legacy of slavery and racism. He argued that true liberation could only be achieved if both Black and White Americans confronted the lies at the heart of the nation’s identity. In “The Fire Next Time,” Baldwin wrote:
“You were born where you were born and faced the future that you faced because you were Black and for no other reason. The limits of your ambition were, thus, expected to be set forever. You were a Black boy, and you must be nothing else.”
Baldwin believed that self-liberation for African Americans involved rejecting these societal limits and refusing to internalize the racist narratives imposed by the dominant culture. He also suggested that true liberation for White Americans would only come when they confronted their own complicity in maintaining racial hierarchies.
Toni Morrison explored the ways in which African Americans could reclaim their identity and humanity through storytelling. Her novels, particularly “Beloved,” delve into the psychological scars left by slavery and its aftermath. Storytelling, for Morrison, was a means of articulating the unspoken traumas of the past and using language as a tool for healing and liberation. She said:
“The function of freedom is to free someone else.”
Morrison’s words emphasize the collective nature of liberation—that as individuals liberate themselves psychologically, they also have a responsibility to contribute to the liberation of others. Her works underscore the idea that liberation is not only about political and legal battles but also about reclaiming the narratives of African American life that had been distorted or erased by dominant culture.
The election of the first African American president, Barack Obama, in 2008 was hailed by many as a significant step toward a post-racial America. However, the continued police brutality, economic disparities, and the rise of movements like Black Lives Matter (BLM) in response to the killings of unarmed Black men and women (such as Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd) demonstrate that the fight for full liberation remains far from over.
The BLM movement, much like earlier liberation efforts, highlights the gap between formal legal freedom and real lived freedom. African Americans may have the right to vote and desegregated schools, but they are still disproportionately targeted by the criminal justice system and suffer from systemic inequalities in housing, healthcare, and employment.
Scholar and activist Angela Davis has been at the forefront of modern liberation movements, arguing that true liberation must be intersectional, addressing not only race but also gender, class, and sexuality. In her book “Freedom is a Constant Struggle,” Davis writes:
“We have to talk about liberating minds as well as liberating society.”
Davis highlights the need for ongoing consciousness-raising and activism to address the multiple layers of oppression that intersect in the lives of African Americans, particularly Black women. For Davis, liberation is not a one-time achievement but an ongoing process of transformation that requires continual vigilance and action.
We Might be Free but We’re not Liberated in the Mind
You are free to refer to the three Hebrew boys in the Book of Daniel as Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. But you are liberated when you acknowledge them by their divine names, Hananiah (“God is gracious” or “God has favored”), Mishael (“Who is what El is” or “Like God”), and Azariah (“God has helped”)
Black Americans will become truly liberated when they realize that the Black church is not the backbone of the Black community. God and, God all by Himself is, and will always be The Backbone of the Black Nation. God has nothing to do with traditional church defication, church toxic and soffocating political flatulence or the today’s black churches drip-drop community incontinence.
In America, Black citizens are told that we are free. We are free to go where we want, free to express our thoughts, and free from the brutal institution of chattel slavery that bound our ancestors. Yet, true liberation—full autonomy and collective empowerment—remains elusive. Despite legal protections and civil rights laws, we are not fully liberated to remain in the spaces we occupy, nor to speak without fear of consequence. This tension between freedom and liberation is a profound reality that demands deeper understanding, both spiritually and historically.
True liberation, however, goes beyond legal frameworks and political promises. It is rooted in a profound spiritual awakening that allows us to discern the difference between “The Word of God” and the Bible, between spirituality and organized religion. Moreover, it involves understanding our identity as descendants of ancient civilization builders, while reckoning with the experience of civil death in modern America. To a nation that calls itself a “civilization,” yet finds it necessary to pass Civil Rights laws to ensure basic human dignity, the message is clear: we are not truly civilized until all are truly free.
The distinction between freedom and liberation is crucial. Freedom, in its most basic sense, is the ability to act, speak, or move without restraint. For Black Americans, freedom has often come in the form of legal victories: the Emancipation Proclamation, the Civil Rights Act, and the Voting Rights Act. Yet, even with these hard-won gains, Black people in America remain constrained by invisible but powerful barriers—systemic racism, economic inequality, and cultural marginalization.
Galatians 5
The challenge for Black Americans, then, is not simply to navigate systems that allow for temporary freedom but to seek the deeper, spiritual liberation that comes from understanding who we are—children of God and heirs to a divine legacy that transcends the bounds of American society.
One of the central obstacles to true liberation is the misunderstanding of spirituality, often confused with organized religion. The Word of God, which is eternal and living, transcends the physical pages of the Bible. It is more than scripture—it is the divine presence, the spirit of truth that dwells within us and guides us toward liberation. Many mistake the Bible for the totality of God’s Word, yet the Bible is a book, subject to human interpretation and manipulation. True spiritual liberation comes when we understand that the Word of God cannot be confined to religious texts or institutional doctrines.
This distinction mirrors the tension between spirituality and religion. Religion, with its traditions, structures, and authorities, often becomes a system of control, not unlike the legal systems that dictate earthly freedoms. Spirituality, on the other hand, is the personal and direct experience of God’s presence. It is in this space—beyond religion, beyond man-made institutions—that true liberation is found. The Black church has historically played a dual role: it has been both a source of spiritual empowerment and, at times, a gatekeeper of religious orthodoxy that limits true liberation.
Civil death manifests in countless ways: disproportionate incarceration, economic disparities, voter suppression, and the ongoing devaluation of Black lives. It is the quiet, persistent negation of our humanity, a reality that often lurks behind the veil of progress and legal freedoms. To be descended from the builders of ancient civilizations but experience modern degradation in America is a cruel irony that continues to plague our collective psyche.
In the days when the Word of God walked among us, the Pharisees, religious leaders who rigidly followed the law but missed its spirit, would constrain doves—symbols of the anointing of God—during Passover. These doves were free to flap their wings, but they were not free to soar as God intended. The imagery is powerful: just as the Pharisees placed doves in cages, human systems—religious, legal, and cultural—box in Black Americans, preventing us from fully expressing our God-given potential.
Today, many of us find ourselves like those doves, free to move within confined spaces but denied the liberty to soar. We are allowed to participate in society, but only within certain limits. We are given opportunities but told how far we can go. This constrained freedom is not true liberation.
The message of the doves is clear: God has created us to fly, to soar beyond the confines of human limitations. Yet, systems of oppression seek to box us in, to clip our wings, to prevent us from reaching the heights that God has destined for us. True liberation will come when we, like those doves, are no longer constrained by cages but are free to rise into the fullness of our being.
True liberation for Black Americans requires a multifaceted approach that addresses both the spiritual and social dimensions of our struggle. It begins with a deep spiritual awakening—recognizing that our freedom comes not from human institutions but from God, the ultimate source of liberty. It involves the dismantling of systems of control, whether they be religious traditions that limit our spirituality or political systems that restrict our mobility and potential.
Moreover, true liberation requires a collective effort. The legacy of slavery, Jim Crow, and systemic racism has left us divided, but our strength lies in unity. We must reclaim our identity as descendants of great civilizations, reconnect with our spiritual heritage, and work together to build a society that reflects the true meaning of justice and equality.
In the end, liberation is not just about individual freedom—it is about the collective empowerment of a people who have long been denied their full humanity. As long as one of us is in chains, none of us are truly free.
As we continue the struggle for true liberation, let us remember that freedom, though essential, is not the end goal. Liberation is. And liberation—social, political, spiritual—requires a recognition of who we are in the eyes of God and a refusal to be constrained by the systems of this world. Like the doves, we were born to soar. It is time to break free from the cages that have confined us and rise into the fullness of our divine purpose.
Freedom and Liberation as an Ongoing Journey
The African American experience since slavery exemplifies the profound difference between freedom and liberation. While legal freedom was granted through emancipation and later civil rights victories, the full realization of liberation—social, economic, psychological, and spiritual—remains an ongoing struggle. This struggle is not merely about changing laws or policies but about transforming the very fabric of American society, dismantling the systems of oppression that have persisted since slavery.
From the songs of the enslaved to the sermons of Martin Luther King Jr., from the radical speeches of Malcolm X to the writings of James Baldwin and Angela Davis, African Americans have articulated a vision of liberation that encompasses both the external structures of oppression and the internal scars of racial trauma. It is a vision of freedom that is holistic—embracing the mind, body, and spirit.
In this context, freedom is not a static state achieved once and for all, but a dynamic and collective journey toward justice, dignity, and equality. African Americans have taught the world that liberation is not just about the absence of chains but about the presence of love, community, and the full recognition of one’s humanity. The work of liberation continues, as new generations confront the legacies of the past and build a future where true freedom for all can be realized.