Exodus! Religion, Race, and Nation in Early Nineteenth-Century Black America. By Eddie S. Glaude, Jr. University of Chicago Press, 2000. Pp. x, 216. $42.00, cloth; $16.00. paper.

Eddie Glaude, Jr. has written a brave and frustrating book. Its bravery is evident in the challenges it poses to prevailing assumptions about the periodization and character of Black Nationalism. He questions the conventional notion that nationalist sentiment and racial solidarity emerged only as mid-to-late nineteenth-century phenomena. He attempts to locate their origins in the antebellum period, by demonstrating that conceptions of nation shaped "all forms of black politics" in antebellum America. (16) Glaude also wants to show that nationalist and racial discourse that shaped activism through the early1840s reflected neither a rejection of America, nor acceptance of biological notions of race. He insists that experiences of "common insult and collective humiliation" shaped the foundations of nationalist endeavors. (9) They were, at bottom, pragmatic initiatives.

Glaude centers his analysis on expressions of national identity in independent black churches, freedom celebrations, and national and state conventions of free people of color. He argues that the Exodus story is key to understanding how antebellum black religious and political activists conceived of themselves as a people or nation. Thus, he sets out to examine the use of Exodus imagery in these contexts. Part One of the book considers churches and celebrations as means of analyzing Exodus History. Part Two analyzes the Exodus Politics of conventions.

It is difficult to pinpoint the methodological approach Glaude employs. His technique may strike readers as unconventional, given the historical nature of his concerns. It suggests that he is less interested in offering historical evidence of how people appropriated the Exodus narrative than with relating his project to various interpretive paradigms. He engages in interpretation by analogy - a process that gives readers a sense of the multiple lenses that can be applied to activism among nineteenth-century religious leaders and reformers. He attempts to shed light on their experiences using Catherine Bell's ritual analysis, John Dewey's conceptions of the public, Paul Gilroy's black Atlantic thesis, Evelyn Higginbotham's "politics of respectability," Michael Walzer's reflections on nations and Messianism, and the many philosophical insights of Cornel West and others. This approach may lend credence to the conceptual tools he invokes, but it does not always further his analysis. He relies so heavily on paradigms derived from other questions and contexts that one is left to question whether Glaude would offer the same interpretations if he centered the analysis on the historical phenomena he set out to study. For instance, would his account of freedom celebrations look different if he offered a fuller description of the events themselves, instead of Yael Zerubel's analysis of Israeli traditions and Catherine Bell's distillation of Catholic mass? If he examined how antebellum churches explained their sponsorship of schools, mutual aid societies, libraries, and insurance companies, would he still attribute their activity to their functions as "modern state[s]?" (20) His interpretation on this point is intriguing and clearly fits his interest in locating public and national dimensions of antebellum activism. However, it would be helpful to know whether churches themselves characterized their actions as "statelike." Glaude never explores the issue, which requires attention to historical context.

Some readers may find Glaude's use of multiple conceptual frameworks enlightening and provocative. Indeed, it succeeds in situating his text among broader academic discussions. However, at some critical points, his approach stops short of deepening our basic understanding of antebellum religious and political activism. Despite his innovative point of departure, Glaude arrives at some traditional endpoints. For instance, he identifies linkages between black religious and political activity that many find commonplace. And like other scholars, he concludes that freedom celebrations told stories that challenged dominant myths about American identity.

This is not to say that Glaude fails to offer anything new. His analysis is perhaps at its best in Chapter 7, when he offers clear examples of the pragmatic character of antebellum racial solidarity. Debates among convention participants themselves suggest that their racial discourse did not emerge from belief in "essential or natural differences between human beings;" it was a rooted in American social divisions. (139) This insight encourages readers to rethink popular assumptions about what racial language meant among antebellum African-Americans. Glaude takes it as proof that nationalism did not rest on essentialist notions of race.

Glaude also generates a new vocabulary for interpreting religious and political activism. He reframes historical developments with language that highlights its national dimensions. For instance, the formation of the A.M.E. Church is "the first covenantal convening of the nation." (57) The national conventions of the 1830s are an extension of this phenomenon. As with his analogies, this mode of interpretation places a premium on seeing historical actions in contemporary terms. It seems less concerned with meanings that emerge from the sources themselves.

Glaude's methodological approach enables him to find the Exodus language he seeks without always offering evidence of its use. Antebellum freedom celebrations, for example, are "an aspect of Exodus history" because they stress "thanksgiving, remembrance, and duty." They thereby invoke the "covenant politics" that characterized the Exodus story. The fact that celebrants "rarely" referred to the story itself matters little. (84) In Part Two, Glaude argues, similarly, that the conventions of the 1830s are an example of "Exodus politics." His conclusion rests, not on an analysis of how conventions actually appropriated the Exodus story, but on his definition of what actions constitute "Exodus politics." Such actions, he explains, "pressure a given society to live up to its ideals." (111) Thus, he concludes that the conventions illustrate the significance of the Exodus story among northern free people of color.

Although Glaude's approach may disturb readers accustomed to more traditional modes of analysis, it offers some decisive insights. First, he is skillful in his application and critique of the interpretive paradigms he deems relevant to the project. At no point does he simply impose an interpretation onto his material without carefully scrutinizing it and explicating its shortcomings for the reader. While this practice sometimes disrupts the flow of the narrative, it lends intellectual integrity to the analysis. Second, while his accounts of antebellum collective action are somewhat underdeveloped, they do point to a sense of "peoplehood" among free people of color. Whether we should see that phenomenon as a form of Black Nationalism is less clear. Finally, Glaude ends his analysis with Henry Highland Garnet's 1843 address to slaves, which questions the link between nationalist language and Exodus imagery that frames the study. Glaude's explication of Garnet rejecting the Exodus motif as he makes common cause with slaves shows a willingness to be critical of his own formulations. Moreover, it seems part and parcel of the interpretative innovation that drives the study. In the end, the methodological approach that may frustrate readers who prefer conventional patterns of inquiry offers a refreshing openness to interpretive risks.

Joan L. Bryant Brandeis University