
When we picture the American Revolution, we often imagine Continental soldiers in blue coats facing off against British redcoats—but this image leaves out thousands of crucial participants. Between 5,000 and 8,000 Black men fought for the Patriot cause, while an estimated 20,000 joined the British forces. Their stories reveal the war’s profound contradictions and the complex choices Black Americans faced when white colonists fought for “liberty” while holding hundreds of thousands of people in bondage. Their participation reflected the Revolution’s central paradox: a war waged in the name of liberty within a society deeply dependent on slavery.
The irony wasn’t lost on anyone at the time. As Abigail Adams wrote in 1774, “it always appeared a most iniquitous scheme to me to fight ourselves for what we are daily robbing and plundering from those who have as good a right to freedom as we have”.
For most Black participants, the key question was which side offered the clearest path out of bondage rather than abstract allegiance to King or Congress. The tension between revolutionary rhetoric and the reality of slavery shaped every decision Black Americans made about which side to support. This dynamic meant that enslaved people frequently escaped to British forces, while free Blacks (especially in New England) were more likely, though not exclusively, to enlist with the Patriots where they already had tenuous civic footholds
The British Offer: “Liberty to Slaves”
In November 1775, Virginia’s royal governor Lord Dunmore made a move that sent shockwaves through the colonies. With his military position deteriorating and losing men under his command, Dunmore issued a proclamation offering freedom to any enslaved person who abandoned their Patriot masters and joined British forces. The proclamation declared “all indented servants, Negroes, or others (appertaining to rebels) free, that are able and willing to bear arms”.
The response was immediate. Within a month, an estimated 300 Black men had enlisted in what Dunmore called the “Royal Ethiopian Regiment,” eventually growing to about 800 men. Their uniforms were emblazoned with the provocative words “Liberty to Slaves.” The name “Ethiopian” wasn’t random—it referenced ancient associations of Ethiopia with wisdom and nobility. These soldiers saw action at the Battle of Kemp’s Landing, where—in a moment rich with symbolic meaning—one previously enslaved soldier captured his former master, militia colonel Joseph Hutchings.
Dunmore’s promise came with devastating costs. The regiment’s only other major battle was the disastrous British defeat at Great Bridge in December 1775. Far worse was the disease that ravaged the Black soldiers’ ranks. As the Virginia Gazette reported in March 1776, “the jail distemper rages with great violence on board Lord Dunmore’s fleet, particularly among the negro forces”. Disease ultimately killed more of Dunmore’s recruits than combat, as was common among all armies of the time. By 1776, Dunmore was forced to flee Virginia, taking only about 300 survivors with him.
The Patriot Response: Reluctant Acceptance
The Continental Army’s relationship with Black soldiers was complicated from the start. Black men fought at Lexington and Concord. They also distinguished themselves at Bunker Hill, where Black patriot Salem Poor performed so heroically that fourteen officers petitioned the Massachusetts legislature to recognize his “brave and gallant” service.
But in November 1775, just days after Dunmore’s Proclamation, George Washington—himself a Virginia slaveholder—banned the recruitment of all Black men. The ban didn’t last long. The British continued recruiting Black soldiers, and Washington faced a simple reality: he desperately needed troops. By early 1778, after the brutal winter at Valley Forge had decimated his forces, Washington grudgingly allowed states to enlist Black soldiers. Rhode Island led the way with legislation that promised immediate freedom to any “able-bodied negro, mulatto, or Indian man slave” who enlisted, with the state compensating slaveholders for their “property”.
The result was the 1st Rhode Island Regiment, which became known as the “Black Regiment.” Of its roughly 225 soldiers, about 140 were Black or Native American men. The regiment fought at the Battle of Rhode Island in August 1778, where they held their position against repeated British and Hessian charges—a performance that earned them, according to Major General John Sullivan, “a proper share of the day’s honors”. They went on to fight at Yorktown, where they stood alongside southern militiamen whose peacetime job had been hunting runaway slaves.
Throughout the Continental Army, Black soldiers generally served in integrated units. One French officer estimated that a quarter of Washington’s army was Black—though historians believe 10 to 15 percent is more accurate. As one historian noted, “In the rest of the Army, the few blacks who served with each company were fully integrated: They fought, drilled, marched, ate and slept alongside their white counterparts.”
Naval service—on both sides—was often more racially integrated than the army. Black men served as sailors, gunners, and marines in the Royal Navy and the Continental Navy. Maritime labor traditions had long been more flexible on race, and skill mattered more than status.
Free Blacks in northern towns could enlist much like white common citizens, sometimes motivated by pay, local patriotism, and the hope that visible service would strengthen claims to equal rights after the war. Enslaved men rarely chose independently; Patriot masters often enlisted them as substitutes to avoid service, while Loyalist masters sometimes allowed or forced them to join British units. In both cases emancipation promises were unevenly honored.
Some enslavers freed men in advance of service, others promised manumission afterward and reneged, while still others simply collected bounties or commutation while trying to retain control over Black veterans. On the British side, imperial policy also vacillated, with some officers fully supporting freedom for Black refugees tied to rebel masters, and others quietly returning runaways to Loyalist owners or exploiting them as unpaid labor.
The Promise and the Betrayal
As the war ended, the gulf between British and American treatment of their Black allies became stark. In 1783, as British forces prepared to evacuate New York, General George Washington demanded the return of all formerly enslaved people as “property” under the Treaty of Paris. British commander Sir Guy Carleton refused. Instead, he created the “Book of Negroes”—a ledger documenting about 3,000 Black Loyalists who were granted certificates of freedom and evacuated to Nova Scotia, England, Germany, and British territories.
The Book provides glimpses of individual journeys. Boston King, who had escaped slavery in South Carolina to join the British, was evacuated with his wife Violet to Nova Scotia. Their entry simply notes Violet as a “stout wench”—a reminder that even their liberators viewed them through racist lenses. Harry Washington, who had escaped from George Washington’s Mount Vernon plantation, also reached Nova Scotia and later became a leader in the resettlement to Sierra Leone.
Nova Scotia proved no paradise. Black Loyalists received inferior land—rocky and infertile compared to what white Loyalists received. They faced discrimination, exploitation, and broken promises about land grants. By 1792, nearly 1,200 Black Loyalists—about half of those in Nova Scotia—accepted an offer to resettle in Sierra Leone, where they founded Freetown.
For Black Patriots, the outcome was often worse. While some white soldiers received up to 100 acres of land and military pensions from Congress, Black soldiers who had been promised freedom often received nothing beyond freedom—and some didn’t even get that. As one historian put it, they were “dumped back into civilian society”. In June 1784, thirteen veterans of the Rhode Island Regiment had to hire a lawyer just to petition for their back pay. The state responded with an act that classified them as “paupers, who heretofore were slaves” and ordered towns to provide charity.
Lieutenant Colonel Jeremiah Olney, who commanded the Rhode Island Regiment after Christopher Greene’s death, spent years advocating for his former soldiers—fighting attempts to re-enslave them and supporting their pension claims. Some soldiers, like Jack Sisson, finally received pensions decades later in 1818—forty years after they’d enlisted, and often too late. Many died before seeing any recognition.
Even more cruelly, many Black soldiers who had been promised freedom by their masters were returned to slavery after the war. Some remained enslaved for a few years until their owners honored their promises; others remained enslaved permanently, having fought for a freedom they would never experience.
It is plausible that the widespread participation of Black soldiers subtly accelerated Northern emancipation by making slavery harder to justify ideologically, even as Southern resistance hardened.
The Larger Meaning
The American Revolution was the last time the U.S. military would be significantly integrated until President Truman’s Executive Order 9981 in 1948. In 1792, Congress passed legislation limiting military service to “free, able-bodied, white male citizens”—a restriction that would last for generations.
Yet the Revolutionary War period saw more enslaved people gain their freedom than any other time before the Civil War. Historian Gary Nash estimates that between 80,000 and 100,000 enslaved people escaped throughout the thirteen colonies during the war—not all joined the military, but the war created opportunities for flight that many seized.
As historian Edward Countryman notes, the Revolution forced Americans to confront a question that Black Americans had been raising all along: “What does the revolutionary promise of freedom and democracy mean for African Americans?” The white founders failed to answer that question satisfactorily, but the thousands of Black soldiers who fought—on both sides—had already answered it with their lives. They understood that liberty was worth fighting for, even when the people promising it had no intention of extending it to everyone.
Image generated by author using ChatGPT.
Sources
- “African Americans in the Revolutionary War,” Wikipedia.
- Museum of the American Revolution, “Black Patriots and Loyalists” and “Black Founders: Black Soldiers and Sailors in the Revolutionary War.”
- Gilder Lehrman Institute, “African American Patriots in the Revolution.”
- National Archives blog, “African Americans and the American War for Independence.”
- Douglas R. Egerton, Death or Liberty: African Americans and Revolutionary America (individual stories on both Patriot and Loyalist sides).
- Edward Countryman, The American Revolution.
- Gary B. Nash, The Forgotten Fifth: African Americans in the Age of Revolution.
- Alan Gilbert, Black Patriots and Loyalists: Fighting for Emancipation in the War for Independence.
- DAR, Forgotten Patriots – African American and American Indian Patriots in the Revolutionary War: A Guide to Service, Sources, and Studies).
- NYPL LibGuide, “Black Experience of the American Revolution”
- American Battlefield Trust, “10 Facts: Black Patriots in the American Revolution.”
- Massachusetts Historical Society, “Revolutionary Participation: African Americans in the American Revolution.”
- Fraunces Tavern Museum, “Enlistment of Freed and Enslaved Blacks in the Continental Army.”
- American Independence Museum, “African-American Soldiers’ Service During the Revolutionary War.”
- Encyclopedia Virginia, “Lord Dunmore’s Ethiopian Regiment.”
- Mount Vernon, “Dunmore’s Proclamation and Black Loyalists” and “The Ethiopian Regiment.”
- American Battlefield Trust, “Lord Dunmore’s Ethiopian Regiment”
- Lord Dunmore’s Proclamation (1775), in transcription with context at Gilder Lehrman, Encyclopedia Virginia, and Mount Vernon.
- “Book of Negroes” (1783 evacuation ledger of Black Loyalists to Nova Scotia; digital copies and discussions via BlackPast and Dictionary of Canadian Biography).
- Boston King, “Memoirs of the Life of Boston King, a Black Preacher,” Methodist Magazine (1798)
- NYPL “Black Experience of the American Revolution”
- 1st Rhode Island Regiment, World History Encyclopedia














Understanding Critical Race Theory: What It Is—and Why It Divides America
By John Turley
On March 2, 2026
In Commentary, History, Politics
When I first started hearing debates about Critical Race Theory, I thought these people can’t possibly be talking about the same thing. There seemed to be no common ground—even the words they were using seemed to have different meanings.
Critical Race Theory (CRT) has become one of the most contested intellectual concepts in contemporary American culture. Originally developed in law schools during the 1970s and 1980s, CRT has evolved into a broad analytical method of examining how race and racism operate in society. Understanding its origins, core principles, and the political debates surrounding it requires examining both its academic foundations and its journey into public consciousness.
Origins and Early Development
Legal scholars who were dissatisfied with the slow pace of racial progress following the Civil Rights Movement laid the groundwork for CRT. The early figures included Derrick Bell, often considered the father of CRT, along with Alan Freeman, Richard Delgado, Kimberlé Crenshaw, and Cheryl Harris. These scholars were frustrated that despite landmark legislation like the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965, racial inequality persisted across American institutions.
The intellectual roots of CRT can be traced to Critical Legal Studies, a movement that challenged traditional legal scholarship’s claims of objectivity and neutrality. However, CRT scholars felt that Critical Legal Studies failed to adequately address race and racism. They drew inspiration from various sources, including the work of civil rights lawyers like Charles Hamilton Houston, sociological insights about institutional racism, and postmodern critiques of knowledge and power.
Derrick Bell’s groundbreaking work in the 1970s laid crucial foundation. His “interest convergence” theory, presented in his analysis of Brown v. Board of Education, argued that advances in civil rights occur only when they align with white interests. This insight became central to CRT’s understanding of how racial progress unfolds in American society.
Core Elements and Principles
Critical Race Theory encompasses several key tenets that distinguish it from other approaches to studying race and racism.
First, CRT posits that race is not biologically real; it’s a human invention to justify unequal treatment. It also holds that racism is not merely individual prejudice, but a systemic feature of American society embedded in legal, political, and social institutions. This “structural racism” perspective emphasizes how seemingly neutral policies and practices can perpetuate racial inequality.
Second, CRT challenges the traditional civil rights approach that emphasizes color-blindness and incremental reform. Instead, CRT scholars argue that color-blind approaches often mask and perpetuate racial inequities. They advocate for race-conscious policies and a more aggressive approach to dismantling systemic racism.
Third, CRT emphasizes the importance of lived experience in the form of storytelling and narrative. Scholars use personal narratives, historical accounts, and counter-stories to challenge dominant narratives about race and racism. This methodological approach reflects CRT’s belief that experiential knowledge from communities of color provides crucial insights often overlooked by traditional scholarship.
Fourth, CRT introduces the concept of intersectionality, a term coined by legal scholar Kimberlé Crenshaw. This framework examines how multiple forms of identity and oppression—including race, gender, class, and sexuality—intersect and compound each other’s effects.
Finally, CRT is explicitly activist-oriented with a goal of creating new norms of interracial interaction. Unlike purely descriptive academic theories, CRT aims to understand racism in order to eliminate it. This commitment to social transformation distinguishes CRT from more traditional academic approaches.
Evolution and Expansion
Since its origins in legal studies, CRT has expanded into numerous disciplines including education, sociology, political science, and ethnic studies. In education, scholars like Gloria Ladson-Billings and William Tate applied CRT frameworks to understand racial disparities in schooling. This educational application of CRT examines how school policies, curriculum, and practices contribute to achievement gaps and educational inequality.
Conservative Perspectives
Conservative critics of CRT raise several concerns about the theory and its applications. They argue that CRT’s emphasis on systemic racism is overly deterministic and fails to account for individual differences and the significant progress made in racial equality since the Civil Rights era. Many conservatives contend that CRT promotes a victim mentality that undermines personal responsibility and achievement.
From this perspective, CRT’s race-conscious approach is seen as divisive and potentially counterproductive. Critics argue that emphasizing racial differences rather than common humanity perpetuates division and resentment. They often prefer color-blind approaches that treat all individuals equally regardless of race.
Conservative critics also express concern about CRT’s application in educational settings, arguing that it introduces inappropriate political content into classrooms and may cause students to feel guilt or shame based on their racial identity. Some argue that CRT-influenced curricula amount to indoctrination rather than education.
Additionally, some conservatives view CRT as fundamentally un-American, arguing that its critique of American institutions and emphasis on systemic oppression undermines national unity and patriotism. They contend that CRT presents an overly negative view of American history and society.
Some conservatives go further, calling CRT a form of “anti-American radicalism.” They believe it rejects Enlightenment values—reason, objectivity, and universal rights—in favor of ideology and emotion. Others criticize CRT’s reliance on narrative and lived experience, arguing that it substitutes storytelling for empirical evidence.
Liberal Perspectives
Supporters of CRT argue that it provides essential tools for understanding persistent racial inequalities that other approaches fail to explain adequately. They contend that CRT’s focus on systemic racism accurately describes how racial disparities continue despite formal legal equality.
To them, CRT isn’t about blaming individuals; it’s about recognizing how systems work. Advocates say that color-blind policies often perpetuate inequality because they ignore how race has historically shaped opportunity. They see CRT as empowering marginalized communities to tell their stories and as pushing America closer to its own ideals of justice and equality.
Liberal and progressive thinkers see CRT as a reality check—a necessary tool for understanding and dismantling systemic racism. They argue that laws and policies that seem neutral can still produce racially unequal outcomes—for example disparities in school funding or redlining in housing. (Denying loans or insurance based on neighborhoods rather than individual qualifications.)
From this perspective, CRT’s race-conscious approach is necessary because color-blind policies have proven insufficient to address entrenched racial inequities. Supporters argue that acknowledging and directly confronting racism is more effective than pretending race doesn’t matter.
Liberal defenders of CRT emphasize its scholarly rigor and empirical grounding, arguing that criticism often mischaracterizes or oversimplifies the theory. They point out that CRT is primarily an analytical framework used by scholars and graduate students, not a curriculum taught to elementary school children, as some critics suggest. Progressive educators also note that much of what critics call “CRT in schools” is really teaching about historical facts—slavery, segregation, civil-rights struggles—not law-school theory. They argue that banning CRT is less about protecting students and more about suppressing uncomfortable conversations about race and history.
Supporters also argue that CRT’s emphasis on storytelling and lived experience provides valuable perspectives that have been historically marginalized in academic discourse. They see this as democratizing knowledge production rather than abandoning scholarly standards.
Furthermore, many on the left argue that attacks on CRT represent attempts to silence discussions of racism and maintain the status quo. They view criticism of CRT as part of a broader backlash against racial justice efforts.
Why It Matters
You don’t have to buy every part of CRT to see why it struck a nerve. It forces us to ask uncomfortable but important questions: Why do some inequalities persist even after laws change? How do institutions carry the weight of history?
Whether you agree or disagree with CRT, it’s hard to deny that it has shaped how Americans talk about race. The theory challenges us to look beyond personal prejudice and ask how systems distribute power and privilege. Its critics, in turn, remind us that any theory of justice must preserve individual rights and shared civic values.
The real challenge may be learning to hold both ideas at once: that racism can be systemic, and that individuals should still be treated as individuals. CRT’s greatest value—and its greatest controversy—comes from forcing that tension into the open.
Sources:
JSTOR Daily. “What Is Critical Race Theory?” https://daily.jstor.org/what-is-critical-race-theory/ (Accessed December 3, 2025)
Harvard Law Review Blog. “Derrick Bell’s Interest Convergence and the Permanence of Racism: A Reflection on Resistance.” https://harvardlawreview.org/blog/2020/08/derrick-bells-interest-convergence-and-the-permanence-of-racism-a-reflection-on-resistance/ (March 24, 2023)
Bell, Derrick A., Jr. “Brown v. Board of Education and the Interest-Convergence Dilemma.” Harvard Law Review, Vol. 93, No. 3 (January 1980), pp. 518-533.
Columbia Law School. “Kimberlé Crenshaw on Intersectionality, More than Two Decades Later.” https://www.law.columbia.edu/news/archive/kimberle-crenshaw-intersectionality-more-two-decades-later
Crenshaw, Kimberlé. “Demarginalizing the Intersection of Race and Sex: A Black Feminist Critique of Antidiscrimination Doctrine, Feminist Theory and Antiracist Politics.” 1989.
Britannica. “Richard Delgado | American legal scholar.” https://www.britannica.com/biography/Richard-Delgado
Wikipedia. “Critical Race Theory.” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Critical_race_theory (Updated December 31, 2025)
MTSU First Amendment Encyclopedia. “Critical Race Theory.” https://www.mtsu.edu/first-amendment/article/1254/critical-race-theory (July 10, 2024)
Delgado, Richard and Jean Stefancic. “Critical Race Theory: An Introduction.” New York University Press, 2001 (2nd edition 2012, 3rd edition 2018).
Teachers College Press. “Critical Race Theory in Education.” https://www.tcpress.com/critical-race-theory-in-education-9780807765838
American Bar Association. “A Lesson on Critical Race Theory.” https://www.americanbar.org/groups/crsj/publications/human_rights_magazine_home/civil-rights-reimagining-policing/a-lesson-on-critical-race-theory/
NAACP Legal Defense and Educational Fund. “What is Critical Race Theory, Anyway? | FAQs.” https://www.naacpldf.org/critical-race-theory-faq/ (May 6, 2025)
The illustration was generated by the author using Midjourney.