How is that possible? A chief cannot be replaced.
I can't explain it in any way that you would understand, Cinque.
Or me, for that matter. Only that, well, it has happened.
I am not a great orator or advisor, Cinque.
I'm not a big man in my profession.
I don't know if I alone can convince this next judge to set you free.
I need your help.
When we go to court, I need you to speak.
I'm not an advisor of any kind.
I cannot speak for the others.
Cinque, the others, they say you can.
They say you're the big man here.
I am not.
What's this I hear about a lion?
They say you alone - alone, Cinque -
slew the most terrifying beast anyone has ever seen.
Is it not true?
It had killed several people.
Even hunters among us.
Everyone including me was afraid.
I was lying down with my family,
when out of nowhere it appeared.
As it came for me
I picked up this big rock and I threw it.
And by some miracle, you see, I hit it.
He don't know how that killed it, but it did.
A rock.
I received the gratitude of everyone in the village.
I was given respect.
They treated me as if I was a prince.
They gave me the fine country cloth.
All these things they gave me, I took them all.
But I knew I didn't deserve it.
For when I threw that rock at that beast... if I had missed him...
He said he wouldn't be here trying to explain these things.
He'd just be dead.
Understand?
I'm not a big man.
Just a lucky one.
I might agree with you, Cinque, except you're forgetting something.
The other lion.
The Amistad, Cinque. The insurrection.
That too was an accident? I hardly think so.
That wasn't bravery.
Any man would do the same to get back to his family.
You yourself would do it.
Someone said that might be yours.
'My wife gave it to me.'
'To keep me safe.'
Cinque...
I need you to tell me how you got here.
I wanted to kill them too.
For they convinced some of us that they would take us back home.
Thank you, sir.
Mr. Holabird.
Quite a tale.
Intrigue, abduction,
courage in the face of unspeakable suffering.
And all true. All right. Now tell me if this is true.
Some tribes in Africa, for hundreds of years - thousands, perhaps -
have owned slaves.
Translate.
Yes.
Under what circumstances might one become a slave among the Mende,
of which you claim to belong?
Translate.
Wars, debts.
Oh, I see. And how many men are indebted to you ?
I don't think you do see.
Mr. Holabird is trying to intimidate my colleague.
The Mende word for "slave" is closer to "worker".
Do these workers own the land they work on? Do they receive wages?
Are these workers free to not work for you, if they so choose?
He's questioning the translator!
The translator is answering for the witness.
- The witness isn't getting a chance! - Mr. Baldwin!
Fine, Mr. Baldwin! Slavery, indentured servitude.
Whatever they want to call it, the concept is the same.
Now, he is familiar with the concept.
When you come down to it, it's all about money, isn't it?
Slaves, production, money. I mean, that's the idea of it.
Whether it's here or there. I'm confused.
Do your people routinely slaughter their slaves
in the manner that you just so vividly described to us?
Of course they don't. What would be the point of that?
Killing your own slaves is like burning down your own house or hut,
isn't it?
How do you explain that paradox?
I don't understand what you mean.
Sure you do. As does everyone here.
The behaviour you attribute to your tormentors - your victims -
and therefore every other aspect of your testimony,
makes no sense.
- Not even to you.
But thank you. Like all good works of fiction, it was entertaining.
Nothing more.
Captain Fitzgerald,
please explain your duties in Her Majesty's navy.
To patrol the Ivory Coast for slave ships.
Because?
Because slavery is banned in British law, sir.
Yet the abduction of men from the British protectorate of Sierra Leone
and their illegal transportation as described by Cinque,
- is not unheard of, is it? - Not even unusual, regrettably.
What, if anything, in his account of his ordeal, do you find believable?
His description of the slave fortress, for one thing.
There is such a place.
You've seen it?
No, sir. We've not managed to locate it,
but there is overwhelming evidence that it is real.
What evidence, exactly? Rumour?
Reports.
By "reports" you mean of the variety Cinque shared with us today?
Its existence, sir, has been reported.
Cinque describes the cold-blooded murder
of many of the people on board the Tecora.
Mr. Holabird sees this as a paradox. Do you, sir?
Often when slavers are intercepted, or believe they may be,
they simply throw all their prisoners overboard
and thereby rid themselves of the evidence of their crime.
- Drown hundreds of people? - Yes.
It hardly seems a lucrative business to me,
going to all that trouble rounding men up only to throw them overboard.
No, it's very lucrative.
If only we could corroborate Cinque's story somehow with...
with evidence of some kind.
The inventory.
This? From the Tecora?
If you look, there's a notation made on May 10,
correcting the number of slaves on board, reducing their number by 50.
What does that mean?
If you look at it in conjunction with Cinque's testimony,
I would say that it means this:
The crew greatly underestimated
the amount of provisions required for their journey,
and solved the problem by throwing 50 people overboard.
I'm looking at the inventory, Captain,
and I'm sorry, I don't see where it says,
"This morning, we threw 50 slaves overboard."
On May 10 or any other day.
As of course you would not.
I do see that the cargo weight changed.
They reduced the poundage, I see, but that is all.
It's simple, ghastly arithmetic.
Well, for you, perhaps.
I may need a quill and parchment and a better imagination.
And what poundage do you imagine the entry may refer to, sir?
A mast and sails, perhaps?
Give us... us... free.
Give... us...
free.
Give us, us free.
Give... us... free.
Your Honour, please instruct the defendant
not to disrupt proceedings with such outbursts.
Give us, us free!
If we are to have any semblance of order in court...
Give us, us free! Give us, us free!
He cannot keep crying out "Give us free"...
Give us, us free!
... while I am questioning this witness!
GIVE US, US FREE!
All rise.
After careful review and thorough reflection,
I find it impossible to deny the power of the government's position.
There is no doubt in my mind that District Attorney Holabird,
Her Catholic Majesty, Isabella of Spain,
and her trusted minister, Señor Calderon,
have all proceeded with the utmost faith
in the soundness of their case.
I also believe that Señors Ruiz and Montes
may have... misrepresented the origin of the prisoners,
an issue which weighs crucially upon their fate,
and that of the Spaniards as well.
Were they born in Africa?
Since the answer to that question
shall govern every determination of this court, I ask it again.
Were they born in Africa?
I believe they were.
As such, Her Catholic Majesty's claims of ownership have no merit.
Neither do those for salvage made by Lieutenants Mead and Gedney.
I hereby order the arrest and detention
of Señors Ruiz and Montes..
... by federal mar...
By federal marshals... on the charge of slave-trading!
The release of the Africans
and their conveyance, by this government,
at her earliest convenience and expense,
back to their homes in Africa!
Yes!
We've done it, Joadson! We've done it! Yes!
Covey, tell them! Tell them now!
Look at 'em!
What's most bewildering to Her Majesty
is this arrogant independence of the American courts.
After all, if you cannot rule the courts, you cannot rule.
Señor Calderon, as any true American will tell you,
its the independence of our courts that keeps us free.
John... I'm glad you came.
Mr. President? Senator Calhoun is here.
John! I was afraid you weren't going to be able to join us.
- You may put that fear to rest, sir. - Oh, thank you! Please.
I'd like you to meet Señor Calderon, ambassador from Spain.
Buenas noches, Señor Ambassador.
- Thought you said he wasn't coming. - He said he wasn't.
You see, Señor Calderon,
there's a growing number of people in this part of the country
that regard us in the South
as not only geographically beneath them.
They ignore the fact
that slavery is so interwoven into the fabric of this society,
that to destroy it would be to destroy us as a people.
It's immoral. That's all they know.
Therefore, so are we.
Immoral and inferior.
We are inferior in one area.
We're not as proficient in the art of gain.
We're not as wealthy as our northern neighbors.
We're still struggling.
Take away our life's blood now...
Well, we all know what happens then.
North and South.
They become the masters, and we the slaves.
But not without a fight.
Senator Calhoun is being modest.
He's not inferior in another area - the art of exaggeration.
Ask yourself, Señor Calderon...
What court wants to be responsible
for the spark that ignites the firestorm?
What president wants to be in office...
when it comes crashing down around him?
Certainly no court before this one.
Certainly no president before this one.
So...
Judge us not too harshly, sir,
and bid Her Majesty like.
Because the real determination our courts and our president must make
is not whether this ragtag group of Africans
raised swords against their enemy,
but rather... must we?
Whoa!
Come along, Mr. Joadson.
This news...
Well, of course, it's bad news, but...
They may be more valuable to our struggle in death than in life.
Martyrdom, Mr. Joadson.
From the dawn of Christianity,
we have seen no stronger power for change.
You know it's true.
What is true, Mr. Tappan -
and believe me when I tell you, I've seen this -
is that there are men whose hatred of slavery is stronger than anything,
except for the slave himself.
If you wish to inspire such hatred in a man, Mr. Joadson,
speak to him in that fashion and it may come true.
Our president, our big, big man,
has appealed the decision to our Supreme Court.
What does that mean?
We have to try the case again.
Now, I-I know it's hard to understand, Cinque.
I don't understand, for that matter.
You said there would be a judgment, and we would go free.
No, no. What I said is that we won it at the state level.
I said if we won it at the state level, we then go on.
That's what you said!
- That's what you said! - All right! Yes, I said it!
I said it, but I shouldn't have. What I should have said...
- I can't translate that. - You can't translate what?
- I can't translate "should". - There's no Mende word for "should"?
No. Either you do something, or you don't do it.
What I meant to say, what I meant...
Not in the way you mean it.
Try and understand me.
"Meant" is the same as "should". You're misunderstanding the language.
Cinque! Listen to me. Understand what I'm saying.
What I said to you before the judgment
is almost how it works here.
Almost!
Almost?
Yes, Cinque. But not always.
Yes. And that's what's happened here.
"To His Excellency, John Quincy Adams,
"Massachusetts member, House of Representatives.
"I have understood from Mr. Joadson
"that you are acquainted with the plight of the Amistad Africans.
"If that is true, then you are aware that we have been,
"at every step, successful in our presentation of their case.
"Despite this,
"and despite the unlikelihood of President Van Buren's re-election,
"he has appealed our most recent favourable decision
"to the highest court in the land.
"As I'm sure you are well aware,
"seven of nine of these Supreme Court justices
"are themselves Southern slave owners.
"Sir, we need you.
"If ever there was a time for a man to cast aside his daily trappings
"and array himself for battle, that time has come."
Thank you.
"Cicero said, appealing to Claudius in defence of the Republic,
"that 'the result of this war
"depends on the life of one most brave and excellent man.'
"In our time, in this instance, I believe it depends on two.
"A courageous man, at present in irons, named Cinque,
"and you, sir.
"Sincerely, Roger S Baldwin, attorney-at-law."
Mr. Tippings, excuse me a moment, please.
- Any word from... ? - What did Cinque say?
He won't talk to you.
He won't talk to me?
No.
How's your English coming?
No better than my Mende, I suppose.
Cinque, I know this isn't something you necessarily want to think about,
but has it occurred to you that I'm all you've got?
Because, since my practice has now completely deteriorated,
you're all I've got.
See, this is me. You see?
You see? You see how this works?
And-And-And this, this here, Cinque, is for me. Hmm?
More death threats.
Some have been signed. By my own clients, no less.
I should say, should say... former clients, shouldn't I?
There is one more consequence to having no clientele to speak of.
I am now free to sit here as long as it takes
for you to acknowledge me.
Yes, you understood that word, didn't you?
Free.
All right.
Then we'll just sit.
Caesar.
Cicero's appeal was to Julius Caesar, not Claudius.
Claudius would not be born for another hundred years.
You were right, there was one of them.
- Is that him? - Yes, Mr. President.
Please unlock this door.
Adams has flirted with abolitionists for 15 years,
but has yet to take one home.
- How old is he? - Too old to take anyone home!
He sleeps through three quarters of the sessions on the Hill.
Let's see. President, slumbering congressman,
jailhouse lawyer - one waits with great anticipation for what's next!
- What must that be like? - What?
Knowing all your life, whatever your accomplishments,
you'll only be remembered as the son of a great father.
The only thing John Quincy Adams will remembered for is his middle name!
I wonder, is there anything as pathetic as an ex-president?
I was talking about John...
- Sir. - Yes?
Cinque has asked me t-t-to ask you...
whether you have thought about the question of jurisdiction.
What?
That since they took over the ship far out to sea,
and since neither Spain nor America owns the sea,
how is it that the treaty applies?
Tell him the treaty recognises no jurisdictional limitations.
He will ask me why.
Because I said so.
- Excuse me, sir. - Yes?
Cinque would like to know that if he is the property of Ruiz and Montes,
then how does the treaty apply, as it is between America and Spain?
Or their citizens.
"Or their citizens" is included in the language, if he must know.
Thank you, sir.
It's a good point, though.
Does Britain have any treaties with West Africa which may override
- those between Spain and America? - No.
Does Britain have any treaties with America
- which might override those... - No.
Does America have treaties with West Africa?
No!
- Does Spain? - No!
Does the Commonwealth of Connecticut
- have any treaties with West Africa? - No, no, no, no! Now stop this!
Unshackle him.
I'm sorry, sir.
- I'm under strict orders... - Unshackle him, please.
Yes, Mr. President.
This is a phalaenopsis, moth orchid,
I brought over from China.
And this is a primrose from an English garden.
And, uh, this spear lily,
from the south of France.
This is my rose Blush Noisette.
This came all the way from, uh, Washington, DC,
but don't tell anyone.
Hmm.
Go on, go on.
African violet. I can't tell you how difficult that was to come by.
Now, you understand you're going to the Supreme Court.
Do you know why?
It is the place where they finally kill us.
No. Well, yes, that may be true too.
That's not what I meant.
No, there is another reason and a more important reason.
Although I'll admit that, uh, perhaps more so to us than you.
All right, don't...
Cinque...
Do you know who I am? Has anyone told you about me?
What have they told you?
That you are a chief.
I was a chief, yes.
A chief cannot become anything less than a chief, even in death.
Oh, how I wish such were true here, Cinque.
You've no idea.
One tries to govern wisely, strongly, but...
One tries to govern in a way that betters the lives of one's villagers.
One tries to... kill the lion.
Unfortunately, one isn't always wise enough or strong enough.
Time passes...
and the moment is gone.
Now, listen, Cinque. Listen.
We're about... We're about to bring your case
before the highest court in our land.
Were about to do battle with a lion
that is threatening to rip our country in two.
Huh? And all we have on our side
is a rock.
Of course, you didn't ask to be at the centre
of this historic conflagration any more than I did,
but we find ourselves here, nonetheless,
by some mysterious mix of circumstances
and the whole world watching.
So, uh, what are we to do? Huh?
- What did he just say? - I-I... Sorry, I didn't catch it.
Cinque, look. I'm being honest with you.
Anything less would be disrespectful.
I'm telling you, I'm preparing you,
I suppose I'm explaining to you,
that the test ahead of us is an exceptionally difficult one.
We won't be going in there alone.
Alone? Indeed not. We have right at our side.
We have righteousness at our side.
We have Mr. Baldwin over there.
I meant my ancestors.
I will call into the past,
far back to the beginning of time,
and beg them to come and help me
at the judgment.
I will reach back and draw them into me.
And they must come,
for at this moment, I am the whole reason they have existed at all.
Your Honours...
I derive much consolation
from the fact that my colleague, Mr. Baldwin here,
has argued the case
in so able, and so complete a manner
as to leave me scarcely anything to say.
However...
Why are we here?
How is it that a simple, plain property issue
should now find itself so ennobled as to be argued
before the Supreme Court of the United States of America?
Do we fear the lower courts, which found for us, missed the truth?
Or is it, rather, our great and consuming fear of civil war,
that has allowed us to heap symbolism
upon a simple case that never asked for it?
And now would have us disregard truth
even as it stands before us, tall and proud as a mountain.
The truth... in truth, has been driven from this case like a slave.
Flogged from court to court, wretched and destitute.
And not by any great legal acumen
on the part of the opposition, I might add.
But through the long, powerful arm of the executive office.
This is no mere property case, gentlemen.
This is the most important case ever to come before this court.
Because what it in fact concerns
is the very nature of man.
Uh, these are, um...
These are transcriptions of letters
written between our secretary of state, John Forsyth,
and the Queen of Spain, Isabella the Second.
Now, I ask that you accept their perusal
as part of your deliberations.
Thank you, sir.
I would not touch on them now except to notice
a curious phrase which is much repeated.
The Queen again and again refers to our incompetent courts.
Now what, I wonder, would be more to her liking? Huh?
A court that finds against the Africans?
Well, I think not.
And here is the fine point of it.
What Her Majesty wants is a court that behaves just like her courts.
The courts this 11-year-old child
plays with in her magical kingdom called Spain.
A court that will do what it is told.
A court that can be toyed with like a doll.
A court, as it happens,
of which our own president,
Martin Van Buren, would be most proud.
Thank you.
This is a publication of the office of the President.
It's called "The Executive Review",
and I'm sure you all read it.
At least I'm sure the President hopes you all read it.
This is a recent issue, and there's, uh, an article in here,
written by "a keen mind of the South", who...
My former vice-president, John Calhoun, perhaps.
Could it be?
Who asserts that "there has never existed a civilized society
"in which one segment did not thrive upon the labour of another.
"As far back as one chooses to look,
"to ancient times, to Biblical times,
"history bears this out.
"In Eden, where only two were created.
"Even there, one was pronounced subordinate to the other.
"Slavery has always been with us,
"and is neither sinful nor immoral.
"Rather, as war and antagonism are the natural states of man,
"so, too, slavery, as natural as it is inevitable."
Well, gentlemen, I differ with the keen minds of the South,
and with our president, who apparently shares their views,
offering that the natural state of mankind is instead -
and I know this is a controversial idea -
is freedom.
Is freedom.
The proof is the length to which a man, woman or child will go
to regain it, once taken.
He will break loose his chains.
He will... decimate his enemies.
He will try and try and try,
against all odds, against all prejudices,
to get home.
Cinque, would you stand up, if you would,
so everyone can see you.
This man is black. We can all see that.
But can we also see as easily that which is equally true?
That he is the only true hero in this room.
If he were white, he wouldn't be in this court,
fighting for his life.
If he were white and his enslavers British,
he'd be weighed down by the medals and honours we would bestow upon him.
Songs would be written about him.
The great authors of our times would fill books about him.
His story would be told
and retold, in our classrooms.
Our children, because we would make sure of it,
would know his name as well as they know Patrick Henry's.
Yet, if the South is right,
what are we to do with that embarrassing, annoying document,
"The Declaration of Independence"?
What of its conceits?
"All men created equal," "inalienable rights," "life, liberty," and so on.
What on Earth are we to do with this?
I have a modest suggestion.
The other night I was talking with my friend Cinque.
He was over at my place, and we were out in the greenhouse together.
He explained to me how when a member of the Mende - that's his people...
How when a member of the Mende encounters a situation
where there appears no hope at all,
he invokes his ancestors.
Tradition.
The Mende believe that if one can summon the spirit of one's ancestors,
then they have never left.
And the wisdom and strength they fathered and inspired
will come to his aid.
James Madison, Alexander Hamilton,
Benjamin Franklin,
Thomas Jefferson,
George Washington,
John Adams.
We have long resisted asking your for guidance.
Perhaps we have feared in doing so,
we might acknowledge that our individuality,
which we so, so revere, is not entirely our own.
Perhaps were feared an... an appeal to you might be taken for weakness.
But we have come to understand, finally, that this is not so.
We understand now...
We've been made to understand,
and to embrace the understanding
that who we are
is who we were.
We desperately need your strength and wisdom
to triumph over our fears, our prejudices, ourselves.
Give us the courage to do what is right.
And if it means civil war, then let it come.
And when it does,
may it be, finally,
the last battle of the American Revolution.
That's all I have to say.
In the case of the United States of America
versus the Amistad Africans,
it is the opinion of this court
that our treaty of 1795 with Spain,
on which the prosecution has primarily based its arguments,
is inapplicable.
While it is clearly stipulated in Article 9 that - and I quote -
"Seized ships and cargo
"are to be returned entirely to their proprietary."
The end of quote.
It has not been shown to the court's satisfaction
that these particular Africans fit that description.
We are then left with the alternative
that they are not slaves,
and therefore cannot be considered merchandise,
but are, rather, free individuals
with certain legal and moral rights,
including the right to engage in insurrection
against those who would deny them their freedom.
And therefore, over one dissent,
it is the court's judgment
that the defendants are to be released from custody at once,
and, if they so choose,
to be returned to their homes in Africa.
Thank you.
Well...
- What did you say to them? - Huh?
What words did you use to persuade them?
Yours.
To keep you safe.
Thank you... Baldwin.
Fire!
All clear, sir.
- Fire. - Fire!
Fire.
Take a letter, Ensign.
"To His Honour, the United States secretary of state, Mr. John Forsyth.
"My dear Mr. Forsyth,
"it is my great pleasure to inform you that you are, in fact, correct.
"The slave fortress in Sierra Leone does not exist."
Que bonita!
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