Rereading the Declaration in an Age of Polarization
A new collection from Civitas explores old arguments about what the Declaration means — and who gets to define the nation’s founding ideals.
In director Richard Linklater’s early ’90s classic Dazed and Confused, high school teacher Ms. Stroud (Kim Krizan) tells her class, right before dismissing them into the summer of 1976, that they should be skeptical of the incoming bicentennial hoopla they’re likely to encounter. She tells them that what everyone around them will really be celebrating is “the fact that a bunch of slave-owning, aristocratic, white males didn’t want to pay their taxes.”
That particular phrasing may be fictional, but it is not hard to imagine a young high school teacher, fresh out of college in the era of radical politics, delivering such a verdict to her teenage charges in the mid-1970s. And such lessons have only become more common over time. The left-wing contempt for our founding values has, by this point, acquired a long pedigree of its own, from Howard Zinn’s A People’s History of the United States (1980) to James Loewen’s Lies My Teacher Told Me (1995) and beyond.
It is often said that any work of history reveals as much about the time in which it is written as it does the period on which it is ostensibly focused. While that is true of historical works in general, it seems virtually guaranteed to be true of a new book whose topic is the semiquincentennial of the signing of the Declaration of Independence.
After 250 years of conflict and compromise, the Declaration is still considered essential US political theory and the starting point for arguments about which sort of country we have, and which sort we should have. Richard Reinsch’s new edited collection of essays — The Civitas Collection 250 — certainly fits into that tradition.
A student of US history approaching debates over the American Founding for the first time might not see this immediately. Many of the essayists spend most of their time in the eighteenth century, or before. The writings of Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, and John Dickinson get plenty of attention, as do familiar names like John Locke, Thomas Hobbes, and Montesquieu, and famous precedent documents like the Declaration of Right (1689), Petition of Right (1628), and Magna Carta (1215). But first impressions can be deceiving.
Is Kody Cooper’s essay on the sources of liberty in the Declaration of Independence, for example, just about the development of law and philosophy prior to the American founding? He certainly covers writers ranging from Cicero and Tacitus to Richard Hooker and Locke, but he also moves forward in time to contrast the founding principles of the Declaration to much later interpreters. Arguing for a universalist view of the rights proclaimed in 1776, Cooper writes “Contrary to exclusive interpretations advanced by later jurists like Justice Roger Taney and his successors among the critical race theorists, the word ‘men’ did not mean merely white men.”
In the blink of an eye, the discussion zoomed past the ancient philosophers and early modern legalists to The 1619 Project and Ibram X. Kendi. The contributors to The Civitas Collection are all serious scholars with much to say about the founding era, but it is also clear they have contemporary battles to wage with their interpretation of what our founding documents really say. With the Declaration functioning, in the famous words of the late historian Pauline Maier as “American scripture,” it seems inevitable that most combatants in US politics will want to claim the document’s mantle for their own preferred ideological strain.
Some of these conflicts are longstanding and easily recognizable ones, between political theorists of the right and the left. Cynicism about the motives and beliefs of the founding generation, for example, is not new.
Anti-hagiographies of the Revolutionary generation are so common they’ve inspired their own subgenre of anti-anti-founding fathers publishing, including books like Thomas West’s Vindicating the Founders (1997), Larry Schweikart and Michael Allen’s A Patriot’s History of the United States (2004), and Brion McClanahan’s The Politically Incorrect Guide to the Founding Fathers (2009).
Those left-versus-right debates continue to be timely and there’s plenty of scholarship in the present volume to illuminate them further. But perhaps more interesting are the fights, more often flying under the radar, that are happening within the center-right segment of the political spectrum. Not between conservatives and Marxists, but between nationalists, libertarians, classical liberals, new whigs, and whatever else the non-leftists of America are calling themselves these days.
Adam Lebowitz, for example, laments early in his essay that a “broadly libertarian reading [of the Declaration] has hardened into something like conventional wisdom.” Rather than being fearful of executive authority and a strong government because of the negative example of King George III, Lebowitz argues that our founders thought of the Declaration as “a warrant for a stronger, more energetic government, grounded in democratic sovereignty and endowed with plenary powers.”
The argument that the spirit of the Declaration was consistent with a strong executive and a federal government of essentially unbounded authority obviously has implications for how the powers of the presidency are practiced and circumscribed in the age of Donald Trump. High-profile debates over immigration and deportation, National Guard deployments, and the bombing of Iran are directly relevant to whether our nation’s founders are perceived to have been wary and concerned about dictatorial executive power or in favor of its wide exercise.
Even more pointed is the contribution of former deputy attorney general John Yoo, who writes, “We should not mistake…the colonists’ frontal attack on tyranny for a rejection of the idea of executive power,” stating plainly that “the Declaration of Independence itself is not a rejection of executive power.” Yoo documents the history of the Articles of Confederation and the rapidly evolving state constitutions of the 1780s, which initially favored a very weak (often plural) executive, but were quickly reformed to establish offices of more effective leadership. Yoo’s previous scholarship and policy advocacy for a maximalist view of the president’s war powers during the George W. Bush administration are clearly relevant here.
Read the full article at The Daily Economy.