Politics & Power Quote by Francis Wright

Liberty is the fashionable banner, but Wright is already tugging at its seams. The line opens by flattering its audience - the "enlightened" and the "generous" - then pivots into a quietly barbed question: if everyone is cheering for freedom, why does freedom still look so selective in practice? The rhetorical move is strategic. By conceding that liberty is widely admired, she disarms defensiveness, then uses "may we not enquire" to make dissent sound like civility rather than rebellion. It is an invitation to scrutiny that doubles as an accusation.

The subtext is that 19th-century "human liberty" was often a rhetorical luxury item: praised in salons and legislatures while women, enslaved people, and the poor remained outside its protections. Wright, an activist steeped in reform culture, is pressing on a common contradiction in Atlantic liberalism: nations that styled themselves modern and moral could speak the language of rights while building economies and laws that rationed them. Her phrasing hints at a second critique, too: liberty can be misunderstood not only as absent chains, but as the presence of material and civic conditions that make choice real.

What makes the sentence work is its soft-edged confrontation. Wright doesn’t demand that her readers admit hypocrisy; she asks whether their definition might be incomplete. That posture lets her widen the political imagination without triggering the era's reflex to dismiss radicals as merely unruly. It's reform rhetoric with teeth: courteous, calibrated, and aimed at the gap between self-congratulation and actual emancipation.