A Yankee Notebook
NUMBER 2009
January 20, 2020
Crippling Ourselves
EAST MONTPELIER, VT – Humanity, at its present state of evolution, comprises a mass of atavistic impulses covered by a thin veneer of what is called civilization, and more or less protected from itself, during its worst moments, by laws and regulations promulgated by itself during its best moments. The republic we call the United States – once referred to in the plural, but now the singular – is hardly venerable in the grand scheme of history. Yet its citizens often handle it as if it were unbreakable, forgetting, perhaps, the ghastly, bloody war they fought on their own soil when, indeed, they once did break it. Forgotten also seem to be the herculean efforts of its defenders to repair the wound, which still suppurates today, and the words, spoken at the Soldiers’ National Cemetery in Gettysburg, that so perfectly encapsulate both its history and its promise.
Professor Richard Beeman of the University of Pennsylvania concludes a discussion of the 1787 Constitutional Convention with this: “...our Constitution is neither a self-actuating nor a self-correcting document. It requires the constant attention and devotion of all citizens. There is a story, often told, that upon exiting the Constitutional Convention Benjamin Franklin was approached by a group of citizens asking what sort of government the delegates had created. His answer was: ‘A republic, if you can keep it.’”
Ben Franklin was a wise old bird. Aware of the compromises already made in the Convention to secure the votes to confirm – slavery, armed militias, the disenfranchisement of many – he could foresee the stresses and contentions that would lead to, for example, the first ten amendments – the Bill of Rights – and subsequent adjustments of the original document to suit changing conditions. I’m sure he also appreciated the occasional pain that accompanies change. The Civil War would have broken his heart.
He’d have been interested in this year’s Martin Luther King Day, as well. In a convergence so nearly perfect it seems contrived, the commemoration coincided with the beginning of a Presidential impeachment trial in a fiercely divided Senate, and the arrival of thousands of conspicuously armed and camouflaged champions of the Second Amendment on the former capital of the Confederacy. They were there to protest proposed state laws designed to reduce the threat of continued gun violence. Cheering them on were Presidential tweets like this one: “Your 2nd Amendment is under very serious attack in the Great Commonwealth of Virginia. That’s what happens when you vote for Democrats, they will take your guns away.”
Not since Ronald Reagan’s jocular (but, sadly, unforgettable) quip that Government can’t solve our problems because it is the problem, has a president so recklessly thrown fuel on a populist fire. The atmosphere of our Senate may not be not quite as poisoned as it was in 1856, when a pro-slavery Democratic representative from South Carolina beat Charles Sumner, a Massachusetts Republican senator and abolitionist, nearly to death with a cane. But the senators wearing their “serious” faces, who stand like wallpaper behind leaders, are working on it. The Gospel of Mark counsels that a house divided against itself cannot stand. Lincoln quoted the verse in an 1858 speech in Illinois. That counsel was prescient; you have only to visit the bloody fields of Gettysburg or Antietam to see that. And yet we thrash on, each of us convinced he’s right. I can attest from my experiences in open boats that we can’t survive much more of this bitter squabbling. As Dr. King once said, “We may have all come on different ships, but we’re in the same boat now.”
I understand the fear of people who stalk about festooned with rifles, handguns, and knives: They’re facing imminent minority and impotence. It’s the demagogues who preach the notion that they’re under siege, and that each change is the next step on a slippery slope, who are separating us. Think how many young lives we’ve sacrificed, how many billions we’ve spent, and how many miles of pristine land we’ve ravaged combating the slippery slope into “godless Communism.” And to what avail?
There’s a long thread of pacifism running from the teachings of Christ, which inspired a fervent disciple, Count Leo Tolstoy, who grew to deplore conflict. Tolstoy in turn inspired the avatar of non-violent protest, Mohandas Gandhi, who almost single-handedly brought an empire to its knees. His best-known disciple was the man we remembered on this accidental day of converging antipathies. Of the four, one was executed and two were assassinated. Something there is that doesn’t love a prophet.
I’m not quite sure how to bring more sweetness and light – not to mention bipartisan cooperation – to the United States Congress. Suggestions are welcome. But I am pretty sure we can’t long go on as we are; the competition’s getting tougher all the time. One of these days, crippled by constant squabbling, insane spending on our military, failure to maintain our infrastructure, and refusal to sharpen our focus on education, we’re going to enter a dark patch from which we cannot emerge intact.