Built on Bondage
Brooke Newman, Ph.D.Brooke Newman, Ph.D., Department of History
In “The Crown’s Silence: The Hidden History of the British Monarchy and Slavery in the Americas,” Brooke N. Newman, Ph.D., an associate professor in the Department of History, documents the untold truth behind the British royal family’s centuries-long involvement and investment in slavery — a work that has garnered widespread critical acclaim, earning coverage in The New Yorker, The Guardian, and NPR, among others.
Newman’s book traces the monarchy’s links to the transatlantic slave trade and colonial slavery, and the ties span from Queen Elizabeth I — the first British monarch to knowingly invest in and profit from the transatlantic slave trade — to today’s royals, who still refuse to formally acknowledge the crown’s role in slavery. Newman’s book is especially apt today: “In an era when nostalgia for the imperial past is resurfacing in Britain, and the afterlives of slavery are often viewed as an ‘American’ problem, sharing this lesser-known history with the wider public is more important than ever,” said Newman.
What are the key findings in “The Crown’s Silence”?
Slavery was not peripheral to royal power; it was foundational. English monarchs chartered and backed major slave-trading companies, including the Royal African Company and the South Sea Company, which together trafficked tens of thousands of enslaved Africans to the Americas under royal license. Enslaved women, men, and children were literally branded with royal insignia — initials and crowns — marking the monarchy’s direct involvement.
The British state, led by the crown, also used public funds to purchase enslaved people and to defend and expand slave societies, embedding slavery at the core of Britain’s imperial system.
What has been the general understanding of Britain’s and the royal family’s role in the transatlantic slave trade up until now?
Britain is widely remembered as the nation that led the campaign to end the transatlantic slave trade, with a monarchy now viewed as largely ceremonial. That narrative obscures Britain’s dominant role as a slavetrading empire and the crown’s centuries-long function as a governing authority that authorized, financed, expanded, profited from, and defended slavery.
Abolition did not end the crown’s reliance on coerced labor. Enslaved people remained in bondage in Britain’s colonies for decades. Africans seized from illegal slave ships by the Royal Navy were forced into long-term apprenticeships or military service in the king’s name. And when slavery finally ended, compensation flowed to enslavers, not the formerly enslaved.
By celebrating abolition while ignoring exploitation, Britain — and the Crown at its center — has avoided reckoning with how deeply its national wealth and global power were built on racial slavery.
How have Britain and the royal family reckoned — or not — with this past?
King Charles has expressed “personal sorrow” for slavery but has neither acknowledged nor apologized for the crown’s role in creating and sustaining Britain’s Atlantic slave empire. There has been no full disclosure of royal archives or collections, no sustained public education, and no formal commitment to repair.
A genuine reckoning would require transparency, unequivocal acknowledgement, and long-term engagement with the enduring legacies of slavery and descendent communities.