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.
