“We may awake in fetters, more grievous, than the yoke we have shaken off.”
~Abraham Clark, signer of the Declaration of Independence and member of the Annapolis Conference
How many Americans understand or even suspect the radicalism that once inspired a people to revolt against one of the most powerful empires in the world? How many grasp how daring and vast was this experiment? How many know the names of these heroes? Besides maybe Thomas Paine, how many know about Ethan Allen and Thomas Young? I must admit that Abraham Clark is new to me.
I’ve often written about Paine. His example is inspiring and his life quite amazing. He practically came out of nowhere, setting the colonial world ablaze with his words. And he walked the talk, putting his life on the line again and again. But anyone can fight. What matters is what is fought for. Paine took revolution seriously, believing it to be more than a shifting of power from one ruling elite to another. He was not alone in this thought. Nor was he alone in understanding it was a class war. Clark, for example, shared that sentiment. They understood those who possessed the land and wealth would control the government, as that was always the principle of every despotic government, the very basis of monarchy and aristocracy.
Those like Paine, however, understood that there was a difference in the past. There had been countervailing forces that protected the commoners. For all the faults of feudalism, it enforced a social order of rights and obligations, not just the peasants to their lords but also vice versa. To be a peasant meant to belong to the land, quite literally, and no one could take it away from you, that is until that social order came undone. It wasn’t revolutionaries that destroyed the ancien regime. It was those in power, the supposed defenders of the ancien regime.
What the ruling elite possessed, in many cases, had been stolen. In dismantling feudalism, eliminating the Commons and the rights of the commoners, in creating a new class of landless peasants concentrated in the cities, they made revolution all but inevitable. This radical, anti-traditional capitalism oddly became the defining character of modern ‘conservatism’.
Joseph De Maistre, a French counter-revolutionary, noted that people only identify as conservatives after so much has already been lost. Conservatism isn’t so much conserving still existing and fully thriving traditions, but lamenting and romanticizing what once was or is imagined as having been. Conservatism is just the other side of radicalism. But, according to Corey Robin, conservatives understand full well that the ultimate blame for the destruction of the old order is the old order itself. Feudalism, as such, committed suicide. Conservatives don’t care about the old order itself or any of its traditions. Their only concern is to rebuild a rigid hierarchy, but almost any new system can be made to work for this purpose, even something as radical as capitalism that was the very cause of the destruction of the old order.
I’ve pointed out many times before that there was a strange phenomenon in post-revolutionary America. How quickly conservatives took up the rhetoric of the political left. How quickly the aristocrats and plutocrats co-opted the revolution. There were increasing restrictions in certain areas, specifically those without power began to have their rights constrained. This wasn’t just seen with poor whites or white women. “In some places, propertied women, free blacks, and Native Americans could vote, but those exceptions were just that. (Ed Crews)” True, they were exceptions, and yet for during the era leading up to the American Revolution these exceptions were becoming ever more common—to such an extent that a movement was forming, the very movement that helped give such moral force to the revolutionary zeal.
The revolution gave form to that radicalism, even as it strengthened the reactionary forces against it. In the following decades, so much was lost. “After the ratification of the U.S. Constitution, only a few percentage of Americans had the right to vote (the plutocratic elite of free white male landowners which added up to, as some calculate, around 6-8% of the total population who were eligible voters).” In several states, women had gained the right to vote and then in the early years of the new country they lost the vote again. But, of course, among the biggest losers were blacks, including free blacks, as they suddenly were perceived as a greater threat than ever before. What rights and freedoms they had slowly gained were eroded way as America moved closer to civil war. Black churches were shut down for fear of slave revolts and the few free blacks that had the vote lost it—as a newspaper described in 1838:
Since Jackson’s presidency, there’s been a push to give all white men the vote, even if they don’t own property.
Right now, free black men have the vote in several states. But as states revamp their constitutions to loosen voter requirements for white men, blacks are being stripped of rights they had.
Pennsylvania’s constitution of 1790 gave the vote to “every freeman of the age of twenty-one years.”
Today that was changed to say “every white freeman.”
It’s not just the radicalism that I wanted to bring attention to. What occurred to me is how this relates to the issue of the ancient world. Many revolutionaries looked back to ancient Rome and Greece. The idea of The People originated with the Greek démos.
It is hard for many of us today to take seriously this view of society and politics. We automatically see it as a fiction or an abstraction. But this is because organic communities are almost entirely dead in the modern West. The visceral sense of belonging to a people and a place, to one’s kin and neighbors, a coherent sense of community—this is foreign to us. We’ve become fully alienated, in terms of both the Marxian species-being and Cartesian anxiety.
I’ve had on my mind that human nature itself might in a sense be radical. It’s only in taking the ancient world seriously that we can begin to grasp who we are and what we might become. If we aren’t mere individuals, if we aren’t just billiard balls crashing into one another, then what are we? In our attempts to understand ourselves, what kind of world do we create? And in creating this world, how does this further shape that understanding?
To rethink human nature is a radical act because the very potential of radicalism exists within human nature. The new individualistic self took root in the Axial Age. And the psychological self took shape in the Renaissance. But it was the printing press that brought these ideas of the self down into the mess domain of public politics. Pandora’s Box was opened.
These were no longer just ideas to be pondered by the intelligentsia. Their radical potential became manifest. Yet enough of the older senses of self clung to the roots. The feudalism that had its origins in the ancient world was able to hold on into the revolutionary era, the old order still being fresh enough in public memory to be a source of inspiration for the 19th century Romantics.
The notion of The People was being reshaped by new ideas. But the very sense of being a people was nothing new. It was at the very heart of a still living tradition. It was that meeting of the old and new that led to such unpredictable results.
Christian G. Fritz, in American Sovereigns, writes (pp. 3-4):
It seems puzzling today that Americans once considered their sovereign to be the people acting collectively. Modern scholars suggest that sovereignty of the people a rhetorical flourish lacking practical application as a constitutional principle. As a crucial “fiction,” the people’s sovereignty had enormous political influence. But modern accounts of America’s constitutional history neglect the constitutional authority once imputed to such a collective sovereign and as such they fail to appreciate the earlier existence of a widely held belief in collective sovereignty that lost sway only after the Civil War.
The lost view of sovereignty assumed that a majority of the people created and therefore could revise constitutions at will, and that a given majority of one generation could not limit a later generation. America’s first constitutions, being an expression of people’s sovereignty, could not be turned against the majority of the people. Indeed, those constitutions frequently contained express provisions recognizing the broad scope of the people’s authority. Such statements encouraged an expansive view of the constitutional revision. The essence of the rule of law—that binding law exists above both the governors and the governed alike—was challenged by the idea that a sovereign people could not be bound even by a fundamental law of their own making.
Under the expansive view, adhering to procedures specifying constitutional change provided one means of determining the will of the sovereign. Nonetheless, constitutional text requiring special majorities could not prevail over the clear will of a majority to dispense with such requirements if that majority so desired. The key to legitimacy was whether constitutional change expressed the will of the collective sovereign, not adherence to specific procedures. While Americans frequently followed such procedures, for many those steps were simply useful, not indispensable. They were not the only legitimate tools available for a sovereign to articulate its will.
It is time we reclaim our own history.
We are still on that cusp of transformation. Much of the world has to varying degrees maintained organic communities. Many populations still have that communal sense of identity, as a present reality or in the not too distant past. The rural lifestyle and tight-knit small communities is within living memory for a significant number of Americans. Even the ancient traditions of subsistence farming and barter economy continued into early 20th century America. The majority of Americans left the rural areas less than a century ago.
I wouldn’t be so dismissive of that ancient view of being a people, a communal self, not the same thing as collectivist ideology. It’s lasted for millennia. And it was never limited to the Greeks, even though their surviving texts made it famous. For many people today, this is a very much real experience of social reality.
Maybe we should take more seriously what once motivated revolutionaries, the attempt to carry that ancient tradition into a changing world, an anchor in turbulent seas. And as we become increasingly disconnected from the past and alienated from our own human nature, this way of seeing the world becomes ever more radical. The term ‘radical’ etymologically comes from late Latin, meaning of or pertaining to the root. And, I might add, a revolution originally meant a return. We could use a radical revolution right about now, a return to our roots. That is an original intent that might mean something. We can only move forward by seeing the path we’ve been on.
Otherwise, we will be doomed to repeat history. A bad situation being replaced by worse still. That was the warning given by Abraham Clark and many others as well. Within that warning is a seed of hope, that maybe one day a generation will take up the task of becoming a truly free people.
14 thoughts on “A Truly Free People”
There is probably a connection to inequality as well:
There is that. And it isn’t a new issue. People have seen that as a danger going back centuries and longer. Adam Smith, for example, noted a free society wouldn’t last long if income inequality grew.
My thoughts here were tinged with the mood of campaign season.
I’ve repeated one thing many times over the years. What I see from most Americans, on all sides, is that few understand what democracy is and so don’t take it seriously. There are many aspects of our government and party system that are overtly undemocratic and often blatantly anti-democratic. Yet Americans don’t just tolerate it, but embrace and defend this status quo.
The greatest fear many have is if a real democracy ever were to form. But this is the one fear that can’t be admitted. Democracy sounds so nice in rhetoric. It’s like an entertaining story one reads, even as one would never want to live it in reality. It doesn’t matter, though. The fear is fueled by ignorance, an ignorance that is intentional and willful, promoted by government propaganda and corporate PR. The fiction of democracy, the rhetoric, the spin and bullshit—none of it actually has anything to do with democracy.
At some point, fear and reactionary politics is no longer enough. When the system destabilizes and too many begin to suffer for it, when people lose hope or even comfort in fictions, more people suddenly become willing to think the unthinkable. This can happen very quickly, seemingly out of nowhere, even though in reality it develops over generations and centuries.
Here is my last thought. One that I have also often repeated. Democracy isn’t a political system or process. Nor is it a social order, set of institutions, established traditions, etc. If it is to mean anything at all, democracy has to be a way of being in the world and relating to others. Democracy isn’t what is done but who a people are. Only a people who are free in some fundamental sense can act freely, and only a people acting freely can form a free society. We have it all wrong by thinking that government or ruling elites or an economic system can enforce freedom.
We have to demand our own freedom with every ounce of our strength and every fiber of our being. With facing numerous mass catastrophes, this is genuinely an existential crisis, do or die. Voting in an anti-democratic process of a fake election that is controlled by a ruling elite who determines who will rule the corporatist banana republic isn’t going to bring change. Down this path is slow decline and inevitable horrific results.
If doing the same thing continually brings the same bad results, why not try something different? Or why not at least take the situation seriously, to consider what it means?
I presume that the rich feel like they benefit from the status quo so you see the current system as is.
Apparently many Americans have been fine with this. I know many supposed liberals who would claim to love democracy. But these are the same people who would gladly vote for a fraud like Hillary Clinton. Anyone who votes for Clinton doesn’t care about democracy.
If people wanted democracy, they’d start a mass movement to take over government at all levels with grassroots engagement and independent candidates. And if we were to get really serious about it, we’d prosecute for treason anyone who suppresses or interferes with the functioning of democracy. An enemy of democracy in a free society is an enemy of both the people and the state.
This way of thinking is unthinkable in our society. It scares people. For to take democracy seriously would mean to be held responsible for society, both individually and collectively. People would rather be powerless than to have the power to be responsible for their own freedom. That is the sad truth.
It doesn’t matter what the rich want. There is no way for the rich to stop the majority, if the majority ever decided to take power into their own hands.
You do get some interesting vibes going on. There are a few people who sometimes wake up and smell the proverbial coffee.
An interesting example:
Bartlett offers some independent thinking. I have been noticing the interesting vibes. It’s been coming from some unlikely places at times. Even some of those in the establishment are beginning to question the status quo. It has that feeling of the early 20th century when the ruling elite became divided against itself.
On why people can’t imagine an alternative:
People are too invested in the current system and are totally unable to think out of the box.