Fake Terms 101: Article Two –

Blacks in America Were Never Slaves, They Were Captives

The common narrative that the Original Black Inhabitants of America were “slaves” is false. These individuals were not born as slaves, nor were they inherently suited for slavery. They were captives—human beings who were forcibly taken, confined, controlled, and exploited for labor under violent and unjust conditions.

Human beings do not birth slaves. Human beings birth other human beings. The idea that one could be born a “slave” is an ahistorical fiction—one invented to justify acts of cruelty, subjugation, rape, captivity, and murder without moral accountability. The word “slave” was created to mask criminality, to reframe the forced capture and use of human beings into something permissible, even normalized. This linguistic trick, this lie, allowed systems of violence to operate under the guise of order, commerce, and law.

The term “slave” never described a person. It described a justification—a label meant to excuse and erase the brutal reality of captivity. In truth, these people were captives: they were taken and held against their will, stripped of freedom, and compelled to serve. Any labor they performed was not a reflection of “being a slave”—it was the result of being captive, of being forced to serve under the threat and reality of violence.

This is not a semantic difference—it is a moral and factual correction. Using the term “captive” restores clarity. It affirms the humanity of the people taken and held. It names the violence and the criminals responsible. It corrects the record.

Language as a Weapon of Control

In the same way the word “terrorist” is deployed today to silence, vilify, and erase groups who resist Western dominance, “slave” was a term created to obscure the crimes of the United States and its founding institutions. It has always been about avoiding accountability. Language has been weaponized to protect white criminal history, to preserve the illusion of moral superiority, and to rob descendants of captives of their truth, dignity, and rightful demands for justice.

The truth: these were captives, subjected to systemic abuse, but they were never less than human. And unlike the myth of slave “docility,” the history of resistance—by those captive in homes, fields, and cities—shows clearly that they knew what they were and what they deserved. Freedom was always the objective.

Freedom Denied by Agreement and Complacency

The original contract of integration into America for these captives was clear: 40 acres and a mule. That was the promised basis for freedom, ownership, and citizenship. When that contract was rescinded, and when the land granted was re-seized, a critical moment was lost. And over the next 249 years, that failure was not corrected—not legally, not politically, not communally.

Protests over individual acts of violence or systemic inequality are valid only if they are grounded in the full truth. But too often, modern cries for equity and justice ignore the foundational theft—the broken contract—and fail to demand reparations owed. They cry over murders while refusing to claim the legal standing that would prevent them. They ask for equality in a nation where they never formally received entry.

The protests are fake. The tears are fake. The pain is real—but it is sustained through ignorance, avoidance, and willful participation in a false narrative. Without freedom, there will be pain. And if a people do not prioritize freedom, then pain will continue.

To this day, there is no Black political party that holds legislative power in a country governed by legislation. The Black Panther Party came closest. It was dismantled nearly three-quarters of a century ago, and no serious, unified attempt has replaced it. No Emancipation Party exists, despite emancipation supposedly defining the people’s identity.

And the language remains broken. People who claim to honor their ancestors still use the language of their oppressors to name them. That is why they cannot escape the past—because they are reliving it. They are trapped in their own mouths, their own thoughts, their own denials.

I Am Not One of Those People

I do not hate myself. I do not hate my brother. I am not confused about who the enemy is. I come from people who were once captives inside white homes in the United States—but who fought, and were emancipated.

Now, I remain captive to the United States, but enslaved by Black people who refuse to speak truth to protect their own. They will not enforce the law. They will not demand accountability. They will not use accurate language. And their silence, their confusion, and their fear enable the harm.

Bad men will do bad things. But it is the so-called good people who support them with silence and complacency who are ultimately responsible for our demise.