Image by Luke Stackpoole.
Suddenly my cynicism vanished and things started making sense. America started making sense, from past to present.
I was already in the process of writing this column – hey, the nation’s 250th birthday is coming up – and had never felt more lost. Where, where, where am I going with this? What am I trying to say? My words had no core, no soul. I felt like I had given myself the random rubble of a bombed-out building to write about.
Then a friend sent me a link to a New York Times opinion piece. I decided to give it a quick read. I don’t necessarily trust the Times. It can be smugly wrong. But I took a look – it was by literary critic A.O. Scott – and I couldn’t stop reading it. He had found our country, it seemed, beginning with these 35 simple words:
“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”
To which Scott added: “No matter how many times you’ve read it before, it’s worth reading again. Each idea flows from the previous one, and a comprehensive argument takes shape.”
Ah, the Declaration of Independence. So easily dismissed with a shrug, with a smirk, followed by a quick glance at our history, then a glance toward the Oval Office, a glance at Palestine, a glance at Iran. This is just a feel-good lie, right?
But Scott goes on, pointing out that these simple words, “don’t appeal to precedent, tradition or any other external authority, but to the evidence of our own eyes. Human equality is not aspirational: It’s obvious.”
The words’ lasting significance isn’t due to the deep truths they pull from humanity’s philosophical depths, but rather, Scott notes, the opposite: “Its writers said so much more than they meant. The genius of the document lies not in the original, local intentions that might be excavated from it, but in the meanings that later generations have projected onto it.”
The promises in the words weren’t fulfilled on the spot, but oh so slowly – and only partially – over the last two and a half centuries, as people such as Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King, and so many others used the words, again and again, to challenge the reality of their particular present moment.
“For Lincoln and King, the Declaration functions as both a sacred text and an unfulfilled promise,” Scott writes.
“The conditions that it holds to be self-evident in that second sentence did not, at the time it was written, exist in any known reality. Whether they subsequently did or ever could is the subject of debates that have more or less defined our politics ever since, but the ringing confidence of the statement has not diminished.”
And the words still pulsate. As I read Scott’s essay, for the first time I saw the Declaration not merely as a gold-covered lie meant to be plunked in front of the White House as a symbol of American greatness – to be endlessly glorified and endlessly ignored – but a moral fact and, praise be, a tool of the present moment! This country is still being created – out of the same chaos and greed, the same structural racism, the same ignorance and cruelty – that was present in 1776, and you and I and everyone else are the ones creating it.
Before this had become apparent to me, I was reading the news, getting endlessly appalled and depressed, trying to figure out how to write about things like: “Bovino Launches Exploratory Committee for Presidential Campaign with Pledge To Deport 100 Million People.”
I couldn’t let go of this recent Common Dreams headline, concerning Donald Trump’s ex-Border Patrol commander, Gregory Bovino, who wants to run for president. Fine. His right. But he’s running on the idea that 100 million residents are bad, bad people and need to go, and if we give him the power, he’ll shove them all, including the children, into concentration camps and, ultimately, over the border. Good riddance! God gave this country to white people.
Fascism is percolating here. Hell is percolating. I just felt shattered and lost. How can I write about this – simply the latest, and perhaps the craziest, bit of deportation blather to hit the news? I could feel the country sinking, sinking into political quicksand.
But when I heard, in my own mind, the words “all men – all humans – are created equal,” my heart filled with hope and purpose again. There is power in moral sanity, just as there was in 1920, 1954, 1965, 1865, in time immemorial. Hate is a social infection. Fear is a social infection. All we can do is keep recognizing this and creating a morally sane – safe, equal – world.
The same emotional transformation began applying to everything I’d been reading. Trump wants to expand the military budget from $1 trillion annually to $1.5 trillion, at the same time cutting huge chunks of domestic spending? Endless war is the national way, and in the process of losing one war after another, after another, throughout my lifetime – Korea, Vietnam. Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran (?) – we’ve killed, murdered, slaughtered, millions of people, most of whom have been dehumanized in the public mind, turned into numerical abstractions: collateral damage. But . . .
All humans are created equal?
My God, this simple, deeply buried truth applies even to them, the “other,” the people living beyond our sacred borders. Bombing them is no different from bombing ourselves. This doesn’t mean I can just shrug and relax, waiting for the Moral Arc of the Universe to do its thing. The meaning I felt pulsating was, once again, no more than a speck of moral sanity, but it isn’t going away. It’s real. It’s the core of who we are.
And suddenly, as I say, my cynicism vanished. This truth is right there, simply put, at the heart of our Declaration of Independence. Let us seize it now – once again – and continue devoting our lives to creating a future that values everyone.
