From the issue dated September 28, 2001
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The American Republic, Past and PresentBy JOANNE B. FREEMAN
The generation that helped craft a new government in the late 18th century had a profound sense of the nation's vulnerability, both as a sovereign state and as an actor on the world stage. There was no telling if the United States' experimental government would survive -- and judging by the period's many crises, every reason to suspect that it would not. There was a constant fear that the new Republic, supposedly a new and different breed of governance, would be subsumed by a foreign power, and a corresponding suspicion of foreign cultures and foreign loyalties. That crisis mentality led to the period's oft-noted high emotion, shaping a style of politics grounded on personal attacks and accusations, and a defensive justification of any means to promote the proper ends. Political parties might be anathema to republican governance -- so the argument went -- but sometimes factional politicking was a necessary evil; and, if the only way to salvage the Republic was to unite in a war against its foes, so be it. Only a deep and abiding loyalty to the nation's founding principles of governance prevented the early Republic from dissolving into civil war. The United States is now feeling a national vulnerability as deep as any it ever felt before, perhaps deeper, given our longstanding confidence in our nation's power, reach, and international dominance. It is an unfamiliar feeling that we are all experiencing individually, on a profoundly personal level, and emotions are high. Our national world, as we understood it -- standing alone, virtually invincible -- no longer exists. Foreign powers, however they are ultimately defined, have breached our borders, and there can be no absolute promise that they will never do so again. We must reconstruct our understanding of our nation and its meaning in our lives. We must defend it in its newly recognized vulnerability. As historians, we must also recognize how this event will affect future scholars. For, in many ways, by reminding us of our vulnerability, this national crisis may challenge some prevailing assumptions about the nature of change over time. If the United States can be attacked and traumatized in this way, perhaps it is not invincible and destined to succeed. Perhaps it has succeeded for reasons far more deliberate, quotidian, and human than once thought. In essence, perhaps this crisis will restore something of our sense of historical contingency. So we must reconstruct and reconceptualize. We must also remember. Over the centuries, what has restored the American nation again and again is process -- the workings of the national political process, and its ultimate grounding in deliberation, debate, and compromise. Even after the nation dissolved into civil war, it reformed itself into something new and stronger, founded on the same grounding principles. At this time when anger and outrage threaten to force a course of action, we can -- and, indeed, must -- have faith in the process to guide us. Our emotions and their impact on pending political decisions will be the basis upon which future historians will judge our time. Joanne B. Freeman is an assistant professor of history at Yale University. http://chronicle.com Section: The Chronicle Review Page: B6
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Copyright © 2001 by The Chronicle of Higher Education
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Reflections on the Fractured Landscape |
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