For your holiday weekend enjoyment, acclaimed presidential historian and SUP author of Presidential Prerogative: Imperial Power in an Age of Terrorism, Michael A/ Genovese ponders Lincoln's relevance today as he considers "Lincoln's Warning to a Splintered Nation:"
Abraham Lincoln, our sixteenth president, and martyr at the altar of freedom, saved the republic from itself 150 years ago. In the midst of a horrible and costly Civil War, Lincoln not only led the North to victory, he also recast the nation towards a rebirth of freedom and democracy. His message spoke to the nation then, and as we again face a divided and factious nation, it speaks to us now.
In 1838, at the age of 28, Mr. Lincoln was invited to address the Young Men’s Lyceum, in Springfield, Illinois. The Lyceum in Springfield was but one of many such voluntary local societies aimed at promoting public education and political learning. The Lyceum would invite prominent members of the community to publicly address the pressing issues of the day.
At the time, Abe Lincoln was unmarried, had been admitted to the bar a mere 16 months earlier, and although he lived in Springfield for less than a year, had already been twice elected to the Illinois state legislature, and was recognized as a rising star in the Whig party.
Lincoln’s speech was entitled, “The Perpetuation of Our Political Institutions,” (the full text of the lecture would be published in the Sangamo Journal a week later). The speech was delivered at a time when the nation was deeply divided over the question of slavery, with the seeds of a splintering country planted deeply in the soil of America.
In his lecture, Lincoln paid tribute to the debt owed to the founding generation. They had bequeathed to us, he said, the blessing of “a political edifice of liberty and equal rights.” It was the duty of all Americans to protect these blessings and transmit them to the subsequent generations. How, he asked, can we can we do this in light of the imminent threats facing the nation?
What dangers? Lincoln warned against domestic dangers that threatened to tear the nation apart. He painted a harrowing portrait of spreading violence, disregard for the rule of law, and “savage mobs” undermining stability and threatening liberty. If this continued, the people’s faith in the government’s ability to promote order would dissipate, and the stage would be set for the rise of a tyrant, a man who “thirsts and burns for distinction.” Such a tyrant would most certainly destroy democracy and undermine liberty.
The remedy? The antidote to this crushing disorder rested in strengthening the public’s attachment to government. By this he meant that the people must recommit to upholding the rule of law, emulate the greatness of the founding generation, and by “every American mother,” schools, writers of textbooks, teachers and preachers, legislators and judges educating the public in our national values.To what end? Lincoln wanted reverence for the rule of law to become “the political religion of the nation.” So high were the stakes, so serious the danger, that Lincoln believed that if we failed in this task we would “die by suicide.”
History has anointed the Lyceum lecture as Lincoln’s “first speech of distinction,” and as Angela G. Ray of Northwestern University pointed out in a recent edition of the journal Rhetoric and Public Affairs, Americans have returned to this speech “again and again” for meaning, guidance, and identity.
And so we return to it today as our nation recovers from the third consecutive “angry voter” election, where we lurch left and right, where the ins are thrown out, the outs in, then these new ins, out again. Viral anger directed at the government oozes from the pores of Tea Party screamers, just as it did a few years earlier from the left, directed at the Bush administration’s wars and failures. We are an angry people, and we are angry at our own government, the government(s) of our own making.
And today, as has been the case so many times in our history, we return to the wisdom of Abraham Lincoln to instruct us in these difficult times. Lincoln saw the danger to America as a threat coming from within; we were self-destructing and might commit political suicide. We had lost our moorings, misunderstood the genius of the founders, and abandoned their cause. Might the same diagnosis be true today?
We claim to love America yet hate so many fellow Americans. We yell and scream, divide and destroy, revel in slash and burn politics, pose and posture, shout angry epithets at those with whom we disagree, spread hatred, and substitute name-calling for dialogue and debate. America is broken.
And what of Lincoln’s fear that in uneasy, uncivil times, a tyrant may march forth promising to save us? Do we run the risk of giving ourselves to a demagogue riding in a wave of mass resentment, exploiting that resentment, and claiming that only he – or she – can save us?
Anger leads to irrationality. Hatred overwhelms reason. The door is opening for a knight in shining armor to ride in with promises of salvation. Will we succumb?
Today we hunger for another Lincoln. Yet, this is precisely what Lincoln warned us to avoid. To succeed, a democracy requires a bit of Lincoln in all of us.
And what of Lincoln’s answer? Can a recommitment to the rule of law, a reconnection to the genius of the founders, and a rebirth of civic education protect that which we say we value? Can it save us? Only we can save ourselves.
