Authors:
Historic Era: Era 3: Revolution and the New Nation (1754-1820s)
Historic Theme:
Subject:
February/March 2002 | Volume 53, Issue 1
Authors:
Historic Era: Era 3: Revolution and the New Nation (1754-1820s)
Historic Theme:
Subject:
February/March 2002 | Volume 53, Issue 1
The mission now confronting our nation—to transport a military force to a distant, hostile, Islamic country, subdue a brazen terrorist network, and put an end to the random slaughter and harassment of American citizens—may seem a daunting one. If it is any consolation, though, we have done it before. And if it will be any help in the months and years ahead, we should also know that the last such effort was rife with blunders, delays, and confusion of both purpose and means—as well as stirring feats of heroism and perseverance.
Attacks on the United States of America by the pirates of the Barbary Coast commenced almost immediately upon our independence. They would prove to be one of the defining challenges of the Republic, one that would, among other things, give birth to the U.S. Navy and the Marine Corps and raise serious questions about the President’s right to wage undeclared wars, the need to balance defense spending against domestic needs, the use of foreign surrogates to fight our battles, and even whether or not it was a good idea to trade arms and money for the release of hostages.
At the end of the Revolution, American trade with the Mediterranean was already booming—and thus drawing the attention of the Barbary pirates.
The Barbary Coast consisted of the four states that occupied the northern shore of Africa from Egypt to Gibraltar: Tripoli, Tunis, Algiers, and Morocco. Ruled by a variety of beys, deys, and bashaws, the seafarers of the Barbary states made their living as their ancestors had, off and on, for eons—by seizing the ships of other nations. By the late eighteenth century, the great powers of Europe could have suppressed the pirates. Instead, they paid them off. It was not the most heroic system, but it did put up a convenient trade barrier to those nations that would not or could not pay such tribute. That is, the United States.
The very word pirate has an almost roguish sound to it now, conjuring up pictures of Long John Silver. In reality, being taken by a pirate ship was much more akin to enduring a terrorist attack. The raiders of the Barbary Coast rarely took life unnecessarily but only because their human plunder was worth more on the slave block or as hostages.
By 1796, Algerian corsairs alone had captured 119 sailors from American merchantmen. They were fed near-starvation rations, beaten regularly, and put to work breaking rocks on chain gangs, or scraping barnacles off ship hulls. Some of them had been imprisoned for 12 years, waiting for their countrymen to save them. Only after the payment of $642,000 and thousands more in personal bribes, an agreement to pay an annual tribute of $21,600, and turning over a 36-gun frigate as a “gift” to the dey’s daughter was the U.S. government able to ransom them. It was too late for 31 of the hostages, who had died in captivity.
The humiliating spectacle galled