Corporations cannot commit treason, nor be outlawed [nor] excommunicate[d], for they have no souls. Sir Edward Coke, 1552-1634.
The late English jurist's words are appropriate here. I do not know of many corporations demonstrating soulful behaviour, but then I do not know a lot of things. I do know, however, that history should never be trivialised by reducing it to a corporation's commercialised bottom line.
Alas, history reminds us that sometimes an individual captain's view of maritime law can be so twisted and evil that it deteriorates into a kind of corporation-of-human-damnation begging for mutineers to take it down. For example, most of us know that in April 1789, Fletcher Christian, HMS Bounty's first mate, led a successful mutiny against the ship's captain, William Bligh.
Bligh's heartlessness and demonic cruelty were rivalled only by his expert seamanship: when Christian and his fellow mutineers set Bligh and 18 non-mutinous members of the ship's company adrift in an open boat, Bligh sailed that little boat 5822km and landed in Timor, in June. Later, some of the mutineers were captured, taken back to England and court-martialed; three of them were executed. Those more fortunate mutineers who stayed with Christian sailed to Pitcairn Island and burned the Bounty.
I felt the need to revisit these events because of a photograph I saw recently. It was taken at a portion of Sydney Harbour during the Olympic games. It showed a replica of the Bounty secured at a wharf. It was a magnificent sight except for one thing. The vessel's mainmast, which was square rigged with its sail unfurled, was holding up a huge Fila logo.
Obviously, the shoe and clothing manufacturer has an interest in the construction of the vessel, but to have displayed that interest at that time and place was an insult to the original ship's history, as well as to the men who lived, died and sailed aboard it, not to mention the spirit of the Olympic games.
Another portion of history reveals that in July 1839, off the northern coast of Cuba, the Portuguese schooner La Amistad's cargo consisted of 53 Africans (49 adult males, three girls, and one boy). They had been captured near Sierra Leone, in April. Seeking to avoid prosecution for breaking international law, the ship's captain ordered those Africans to be smuggled onto the island at night. They were sold to Spaniards Jose Ruiz and Pedro Montes.
After being smuggled back aboard the ship, they began their journey anew. Four days out to sea, en route to Puerto Principe, in July 1839, the captives were allowed out of the ship's hold. While on deck, during a period of exercise, Joseph Cinque, the leader of the captives, found a nail and smuggled it below.
With that nail Cinque and the rest forced open their chains and shackles. They seized cane-knives and their rebellion resumed in earnest. The ship's captain, cook and 10 Africans were killed.
The ship was eventually seized by a US revenue cutter off the coast of Long Island. It was then towed to New London, and the Africans were imprisoned for a time.
The Africans took their case to court. They were represented by the famed John Quincy Adams. They were tried for piracy and murder in the state of Connecticut. The US Supreme Court ruled that the 53 Africans had been illegally enslaved, and, against President Martin Van Buren's wishes to return them to the two Cubans, ordered the 43 who had survived to be set free.
According to Africana, the Encyclopaedia of the African and African American Experience, only 35 of the original 53 Africans survived to board the ship Gentleman that sailed them home.
Slavery may well be the world's first multinational corporation.
On March 25, 2000, a replica of the Amistad was launched. Her captain, African-American Bill Pinkney, said that it was a mighty, mighty day. I agree. I hope that we will never see the logo of FUBU, the African-American hip-hop clothing manufacturer, emblazoned across its square-rigged topsail.
BY BRANDON ASTOR JONES
[The writer is a prisoner on death row in the United States. He welcomes letters commenting on his columns (include your name and full return address on the envelope, or prison authorities may refuse to deliver it). He can be written to at: Brandon Astor Jones, EF-122216, G3-77, Georgia Diagnostic & Classification Prison, PO Box 3877, Jackson, GA 30233, USA, or email <BrandonAstorJones@hotmail.com>. Jones is seeking a publisher for his autobiography, Growing Down. Please notify him of any possible leads. Visit Jones' web page at <http://www.BrandonAstorJones.com>.]