For his podcast, The Great Battlefield, Nathaniel G. Pearlman interviewed me about my whole life so far (starting with my childhood), my recent visit to Ukraine, and my take on the state of US democracy. The result–an hour’s conversation–is here:
As the 250th year of the republic begins, I am not in a celebratory mood. Our current political crisis is the worst since 1877, the end of Reconstruction. The government is violating core republican principles; and to some extent, this is happening because of flaws in American culture and civil society.
Still, the United States is a community, and communities can mark auspicious dates. America’s 250th anniversary events need not celebrate our national leaders or claim any kind of superiority for our political history and system. The year can be a celebration of our people, by our people, in all our diversity. We can mark the 250th in a pluralistic way, with many local communities, groups, and institutions expressing how they understand the moment–not in a centralized way determined by the White House. In that case, the 250th will be an opportunity to contest the meaning of America, and such contestation is the best of our tradition.
My friend Rev. Dr. Willis Johnson writes: “Personally, I’m drawn to the notion of bearing witness, not just to what is, but to what ought to be. Independence Day, in its best form, should be an act of collective remembrance and recommitment, not just a party. We need to remember that freedom is not static, nor is it evenly distributed. We need to recommit to the labor of making liberty real for everyone, especially those for whom the promise of independence still rings hollow.”
I am old enough to remember the Bicentennial, albeit dimly. The official American Revolution Bicentennial Administration organized some of the events. President Ford presided over a nationally televised fireworks display and reviewed the sailing ships that had gathered in New York Harbor from aboard a naval vessel.
But there were also many local and nongovernmental events, including some protests. The image with this post illustrates an environmental protest in the Boston Harbor that marked the 200th anniversary of the Tea Party. Even the Tall Ships were organized by a nonprofit.
To the extent that the celebrations appeared unified, it was mainly because of the political context. Two centrist presidential candidates, Ford and Carter, were competing to unite the country after the traumas of the previous decade. Nixon had resigned in 1974; Saigon had fallen in 1975. This meant that Watergate and the war were now definitively over, and Americans could hope that a less contentious period was starting. The national government did not create a unifying moment, but the country was in a relatively unified mood.
Such is not the case today. The official national effort, America250, has “announce[d] a monumental celebration, kicking off a new era of American greatness, featuring special remarks by President Donald J. Trump. This kick-off event will take place at the Iowa State Fairgrounds, offering patriotism, excitement, inspiration, and a glimpse into the grand festivities planned for America’s 250th anniversary.”
Even people who support Trump need to recognize that many fellow citizens oppose him, and any kind of ceremony that focuses on him and invokes MAGA concepts will provoke opposition. In my view, such conflict is the most appropriate celebration of a free people, born in rebellion and accustomed to free speech and debate.
Rev. Johnson concludes, “In my heart, I still love my country. I love its messiness, its stubborn hope, its capacity to surprise. To love America means abstaining from turning a blind eye to its wounds. Loving our dear republic means asking hard questions at the cookout. Above all, love of country requires telling the truth—about the people still locked out of the celebration, about the freedoms that remain unfulfilled, about the dangers of settling for easy myths.”
There is little hope that America250 will tell these truths, but it doesn’t own the anniversary. The American people have an opportunity to celebrate our diverse community and to recommit to self-government.
In this episode of The Stakes, host Brad Rourke speaks with Kettering Foundation Senior Fellow and retired Ohio Chief Justice Maureen O’Connor and Kettering board member and Tufts professor Peter Levine. They reflect on their recent experiences helping to build democracy and civil society in Ukraine—O’Connor working to vet candidates for the embattled Constitutional Court, and Levine teaching Civic Studies in a war-torn Kyiv.
Both offer firsthand insight into the resilience of Ukrainian civil society and the country’s struggle to build democratic institutions. O’Connor describes the bomb shelter where judicial reforms are being debated, and Levine details the micro-decisions citizens must make under constant threat. Together, they explore what the U.S. can learn from Ukraine’s resolve—and how psychological, civic, and symbolic support from the West matters more than ever.
CIRCLE has released a detailed report on young people’s trust in various institutions, broken down by demographics and partisanship. They have also published an array of responses to their data by young leaders.
I recommend the whole product. As a teaser, I’m sharing one graph with this post. Note that the police are the second-most trusted institution, below “peers and neighbors” but above nonprofit organizations. White youth trust police at about twice the rate of Black youth.
Also interesting is the extremely low level of trust for social media and technology companies, which turns out to be driven by white youth. (Black youth trust social media somewhat more.)
Whether people should trust these institutions is a different question that is worth some reflection. CIRCLE shows that higher trust is related to voter turnout, so one drawback of deep distrust can be disengagement.
See also: CIRCLE report: How Does Gen Z Really Feel about Democracy? (April 9); to restore trust in schools and media, engage people in civic life
If you Google the word “civility,” the Internet tells you that it means “formal politeness and courtesy in behavior or speech.” This bothers me a bit because the word has had other meanings. Besides, demanding “formal politeness and courtesy” in politics can be a way of suppressing criticism and agitation. William H. Chafe describes how calls for civility were used against Martin Luther King, Jr. in Civilities and Civil Rights: Greensboro, North Carolina and the Black Struggle for Freedom.
My favorite meaning of the word “civility” (or its analogue in Italian: civiltá) comes from the Italian renaissance. For proponents of renaissance republics, civility meant speech and behavior that was egalitarian. Civility existed among people who treated each other as equals and therefore spoke plainly, practically, and with an absence of formal politeness.
For example, in the Discourses (book LV), Machiavelli writes, “Republics where political life has been maintained uncorrupted do not tolerate any of their citizens to be gentlemen, or to live in the manner of gentlemen: rather, they maintain equality among themselves. … ” He adds that in lands where many rich men live idly on inherited wealth, “there has never been any republic, nor any political life; because such generations of men are completely enemies of all civiltá.”
The last word is sometimes translated as “civil government.” Thompson’s Victorian translation simply says, “Such persons are very mischievous in every republic or country.” But literally, the idle rich are enemies of civility for Machiavelli, because civility is a conversation among equals aimed at making collective decisions.
Using the common Latin noun civis (“citizen”) as a root, it was possible to construct an abstract noun, meaning something like “citizenness”–civilitas. That word would be understandable in Latin, but it was rare, surviving only in a couple of texts. For one ancient author (Quintilian) civilitas meant the art of government; for another (Suetonius), it meant courteousness. They were thinking of different attributes of a Roman citizen. I doubt that anyone would have noted this range of meanings before the modern era of Latin lexicons.
Nevertheless, the Latin word civilitas was available to be imitated in modern languages, either by authors who found it in Quintilian or Suetonius or by those who re-invented it from its root meaning of “citizen.”
Around 1384, John Wylciffe used “civility” when translating this Biblical passage (Acts 22:26-28):
26 And when this thing was heard, the centurion went to the tribune, and told to him, and said, What art thou to doing? for this man is a citizen of Rome.
27 And the tribune came nigh, and said to him [Paul], Say thou to me, whether thou art a Roman. And he said, Yea.
28 And the tribune answered, I with much sum got this freedom. [Wycliffe's original version: "I with moche summe gat this ciuylite," Wycliffe's note: "cyuylitee, either fraunchise, either dignite of citeceyn."] And Paul said, And I was born a citizen of Rome.
Wycliffe first wrote “civility” for the New Testament Greek word politeian, and then revised it to “freedom,” meaning the rights enjoyed by a Roman citizen. The King James Version simply says: “And Paul said, But I was free born.”
In 1598, an English author helpfully explained, “Policy is derived from the Greek word politeia which in our tongue we may term civility; and that which the Grecians did name politic government, the Latins called the government of a civil commonwealth, or civil society.”
These meanings were political and related to republican government. However, Shakespeare used “civility” to mean something similar to “tameness” and “patience” and as the opposite of “distemper” (Merry Wives of Windsor iv. ii. 23).
In short, people have coined or re-invented the word “civility” several times to capture aspects of what they imagined Roman citizens to be like. Some of their associations involved politeness, and others involved equal rights. It is a shame to remember only the former.
Sources: My translation of Machiavelli. English references from the Oxford English Dictionary with my modernized spellings. See also learning from the Florentine republic; civility as equality; civic republicanism in medieval Italy: the Lucignano council frescoes; what does the word civic mean?;