Once humanity is graded, hierarchy must be moralized.

Intellectual systems alone do not sustain inequality. They must be justified. They must be framed as not merely functional, but faithful.

By the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, as civilizational ranking hardened into graded humanity, biblical interpretation increasingly functioned as a stabilizing force. Scripture did not invent hierarchy in this period. Hierarchy preceded it. But Scripture became one of its most enduring legitimators.

Christian theology affirms that all humans share a common origin in creation.¹ This affirmation complicated any outright denial of African humanity. Yet interpretation does not occur in abstraction. Texts are read within historical and social contexts, often reinforcing prevailing assumptions.

As European expansion accelerated through colonization and Atlantic trade, certain biblical themes were emphasized in ways that aligned with emerging hierarchies:

Obedience.
Order.
Submission.
Divinely sanctioned authority.

Romans 13, with its instruction to be subject to governing authorities, became a frequently cited passage in defense of established power.² New Testament household codes — addressed to believers living within Roman social structures — were often interpreted as timeless mandates rather than situational guidance.³

These interpretations did not create inequality. They assumed it.

Once Africans had been positioned as developmentally inferior, biblical language about order and authority could be applied asymmetrically. Obedience was emphasized for the enslaved; authority was affirmed for the enslaver.

Many theologians did not argue that Africans lacked souls. Instead, they argued that slavery could be compatible with Christian teaching under certain conditions.⁴ Pro-slavery theologians in the American South, such as James Henley Thornwell and Robert Lewis Dabney, constructed elaborate biblical defenses of bondage grounded in patriarchal precedent and Pauline instruction.⁵

They did not deny Scripture. They interpreted it through hierarchy.

At the same time, abolitionists appealed to the same biblical canon to argue for liberation, emphasizing Exodus, prophetic denunciations of injustice, and the moral equality of all believers.⁶ The Civil War era revealed that Scripture itself was not univocal; interpretation followed moral imagination.⁷

The crucial point is this:

Graded humanity made pro-hierarchy interpretations plausible.

If Africans were perceived as developmentally immature, enslavement could be narrated as discipline. If Africans were seen as lacking full rational capacity, governance over them could be framed as stewardship.

Hierarchy could coexist with evangelism.

Missionaries often accompanied imperial expansion. In many contexts, they challenged abuses and promoted literacy and reform.⁸ Yet missionary activity frequently assumed European civilizational primacy. Conversion did not automatically entail political equality. Baptism did not necessarily imply social parity.

Once hierarchy is filtered through Scripture, it gains moral insulation.

Interpretation rarely precedes power; it tends to follow it.

When Europeans saw themselves as the culmination of history and Africans as its earlier stage, biblical interpretation adapted accordingly. Obedience became virtue. Authority became sacred. Resistance could be framed not only as political rebellion but as spiritual disorder.

This sanctification mattered.

Political systems can be challenged. Economic systems can be renegotiated. But when inequality is framed as divinely ordered, opposition becomes heresy.

By the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, biblical defenses of slavery were systematic and sophisticated.⁹ They did not emerge from Scripture alone. They emerged from a prior anthropology in which humanity had already been tiered.

Once hierarchy is sanctified, it becomes durable.

The next column will examine how educational institutions, canon formation, and archival control preserved these hierarchies across generations — how what began as interpretation became curriculum, and what began as assumption became common sense.

Notes

1. Genesis 1:26–27; R. Kendall Soulen, The God of Israel and Christian Theology (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1996).

2. Romans 13:1–7.

3. Ephesians 6:5–9; Colossians 3:22–25.

4. David Brion Davis, The Problem of Slavery in Western Culture (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1966).

5. Eugene D. Genovese, A Consuming Fire (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1998).

6. Albert J. Raboteau, Slave Religion (New York: Oxford University Press, 1978).

7. Mark A. Noll, The Civil War as a Theological Crisis (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2006).

8. Lamin Sanneh, Translating the Message (Maryknoll: Orbis, 1989).

9. Genovese, A Consuming Fire.

Bibliography

Davis, David Brion. The Problem of Slavery in Western Culture. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1966.
Genovese, Eugene D. A Consuming Fire. Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1998.
Noll, Mark A. The Civil War as a Theological Crisis. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2006.
Raboteau, Albert J. Slave Religion. New York: Oxford University Press, 1978.
Sanneh, Lamin. Translating the Message. Maryknoll: Orbis, 1989.
Soulen, R. Kendall. The God of Israel and Christian Theology. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1996.