Why We Still Teach About John Brown
"We are but darkened groping souls, that know not light often because of its very blinding radiance. Only in time is truth revealed. Today, at last, we know:
John Brown was right”
—W.E.B. Dubois
John Brown’s moral clarity and militant defiance offer powerful lessons in courage, civil disobedience, and the unfinished work of freedom.
At the John Brown Project, we teach about John Brown because his radical abolitionism—driven by fierce moral conviction—challenges complacency, reframes abolition history beyond the confines of white liberalism, and bridges 19th-century courage to today’s struggles for justice. His story isn’t just historical—it’s urgent.
TL;DR
John Brown’s story matters because it disrupts myths of neutrality, centers multiracial resistance, and models radical moral action. By teaching his story, we connect the past to ongoing fights against systemic injustice.
John Brown believed that opposing slavery required more than words. He saw his Christian faith as a mandate to act, not just to preach. According to biographer Louis A. DeCaro Jr., Brown considered faith a radical weapon against injustice.¹ That belief drove him to assist freedom seekers via the Underground Railroad and to plan bold, direct action to challenge the system itself.
Brown was not reckless. He prepared thoroughly, consulted widely, and took personal risks. His actions were the result of decades of moral reflection and political engagement, not impulse. In an age when moderation was prized, Brown’s unwavering stance shines as an example of ethical clarity.
John Brown’s abolitionism was rooted in multiracial struggle
Mainstream narratives often depict abolition as led by elite white Northerners. But as Dr. Manisha Sinha argues, abolition was a radical, multiracial movement with deep roots in Black resistance.² John Brown was one of the few white abolitionists to place his life and labor in solidarity with that Black-led struggle.
Brown didn’t just believe in equality—he structured his plans around it. He forged bonds with Frederick Douglass and Harriet Tubman, respected their leadership, and invited Black freedom into the center of his vision. His Provisional Constitution, written ahead of the Harpers Ferry raid, envisioned an independent Black republic. That’s not just symbolic—it’s strategic, and it challenges modern assumptions about how change is made.
Brown forced America to choose
When Brown launched the Harpers Ferry raid in 1859, the country was deeply divided—but still clinging to compromise. His action shattered that illusion. As Sinha puts it, Brown’s intervention “made slavery the issue” and demanded a response.⁴ It was a spark that accelerated the collapse of moral indifference in the North and deepened the resolve of slaveholders in the South.
Brown's raid didn't fail—it succeeded in changing the conversation. He wasn’t trying to seize power or start a rebellion in the conventional sense. He aimed to disrupt slavery’s machinery and invite the enslaved to walk away. His insistence on legality—delaying his escape to negotiate with hostages—may have sealed his fate, but it also revealed the contradictions of a country that criminalized liberation.
John Brown warned that slavery’s legacy would endure long after its formal end. Today, that warning reads like prophecy. Systems of racial control—mass incarceration, police violence, voter suppression—are deeply rooted in the same white supremacist logic Brown fought against. Teaching his story reveals that these are not new problems, but old fights in new form.
When students learn about Brown, they see how moral action can carry forward across generations. They see how Black-led movements, then and now, confront a state invested in order, not justice. They see that protest isn’t chaos—it’s clarity. And they see that the cost of change is real, but so is the power of conviction.
John Brown modeled what moral courage looks like
Brown’s courage wasn’t performative—it was total. He knew he would likely die for what he believed. “I am quite certain that the crimes of this guilty land will never be purged away but with blood,” he wrote just before his execution.⁵ That quote is uncomfortable, and it should be. Brown forces us to wrestle with the ethics of violence and the limits of passive resistance.
His life pushes back against the idea that radical change can be neat or painless. He didn't ask to be liked; he asked to be just. In a culture that often celebrates moderation and punishes conviction, Brown’s example challenges us to consider what we’re willing to risk for what’s right.
Suggested reading and viewing
Fire from the Midst of You – Louis A. DeCaro Jr.¹
The Slave’s Cause – Manisha Sinha²
Zinn Education Project: John Brown & Harpers Ferry³
NPR Throughline podcast – Harpers Ferry episode⁶
HBMP explainer: “Why country music makes you cry and rock doesn't”⁷]
Endnotes
¹ DeCaro, Fire from the Midst of You (NYU Press)
² Sinha, The Slave’s Cause
³ Zinn Education Project, “John Brown” & “Oct. 16, 1859” entries
⁴ Lawrenceville interview with Dr. Sinha, May 2025
⁵ DeCaro, cited in John Brown Today blog
⁶ NPR Throughline, Harpers Ferry episode
⁷ HBMP, musical context video