Is it possible to love America while still remembering and pointing out uncomfortable facts? Can people hate some of America’s and Americans’ actions while loving our heritage, accomplishments, aspirations, and our deep, communal soul?
The answer to both questions is a resounding “Yes!” As our nation careens like a wayward pinball into our semiquincentennial (what a word!), it is more important than ever to reject the 1960s slogan which erases all nuances: “America: Love It or Leave It.” Donald Trump and MAGA impart the same message while incessantly seeking revenge and retribution: “It’s My Way or the Highway!”
A rosy lens might picture celebrations across America in 1776 when our revolutionary Declaration was first read aloud, with musket blasts and tricorn hats tossed in the air. But research reveals that some celebrated wildly, while as many as 50% were opposed, loyal to the King and England, or fearful of the economic hardships and bloodshed ahead.
Today, our country faces a nearly identical split in elected officials. We renamed ourselves “the United States of America” in 1776, but remaining United has included great conflicts, especially our bloody Civil War. Its 700,000 deaths are more than all our other wars combined.
In my view, our history since that fateful 4th has been triumphant and spectacular in many ways, but consistently tarnished by three traits. One is the 150-year economic war by the upper class against the middle and lower classes.
Another is a key bit of hypocrisy embedded in our Declaration and in the Constitution in 1788. Americans proposed that “All men are created equal,” entitled to “Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.” But citizens, North and South, could “own” slaves, with each counted as 3/5ths of a person in the Constitution (Article 1 Section 2).
It was a problem supposedly cured by the Civil War and 13th-15th Amendments. Slavery became illegal, but granting Blacks equal status was subverted by violence after Reconstruction. A wave of lynchings (about 1,500 in the 1890s) and “race riots” ravaged Black communities throughout the country. A recent documentary on W.E.B. DuBois detailed their devastating effects on a man of towering intellect who often proclaimed that “all men are brothers.”
As a college professor, he lost an infant son in Atlanta when white doctors wouldn’t provide emergency care. His family lived through white attacks there in 1906 that left up to 40 Blacks dead and destroyed Black businesses. Similar violence erupted in Lincoln’s birthplace, Springfield, Illinois, in 1908. No one was ever held accountable for the murders or damages.
These racial wounds continue to poison America today. Republicans are waging all-out war on Black representation in Congress. President Trump continues his hateful past with blatant lies about immigrants of color and open disdain for Caribbean and African nations.
Another national instinct has limited our growth as a society as well. We have pushed to conquer and control more land and people ever since Columbus landed. “Manifest Destiny” erased Native cultures across the country; we fancied ourselves the “World’s Policeman” under Teddy Roosevelt; and embarked on foreign wars (mistakenly) meant to resist Communism and today, Muslim jihad.
Wars of choice under this belief system have been spectacular, and deadly, failures, from Vietnam through wars in Iraq, Afghanistan, and now Iran. We have destroyed thousands of young lives — Americans’, foreign soldiers’, and civilians’ — and only succeeded in making generations of enemies.
After all of our trials and tribulations, leadership and lassitude, spectacular accomplishments and abject failures, we are still united, although the connecting bonds are now stretched gossamer thin. The next couple of years will prove whether we can, as Ben Franklin wondered, “keep” our republic or lose it to a strong authoritarian movement nurtured and supported by the wealthy oligarchs we’ve put in positions of power.
Accepting this dual, and paradoxical nature — our resounding triumphs and pursuit of our aspirations alongside our international and domestic crimes and misdemeanors — is a tall task for all of us. It’s why, for me, “The Star-Spangled Banner” often brings a hint of tears, inspired by both joy and sadness.
We are America, land of the free — and the oppressed; the brave — and the cowards; equals— and a privileged class. On our 250th, we stand on the brink of success and collapse, with only the power of the people to resist a takeover from the top. It’s a time to remember our roots and renew our dedication to the aspirations of the Fourth in 1776: freedom, justice, and equality for all.
Allen Woods is a freelance writer, author of the Revolutionary-era historical fiction novel “The Sword and Scabbard,” and Greenfield resident. His column appears regularly on a Saturday. Comments are welcome here or at awoods2846@gmail.com.