Originally written September 29th, 2006
BY EDWIN COONEY
I shouldn’t admit this, but I’m telling you because I know you won’t let this get out of the room. I have two close friends. One’s name is Dunderhead and the other one’s name is Lunkhead. I often meet them at our local watering hole. Recently, I sat with them while they engaged in the following discussion:
“Let’s see now,” began Dunderhead, “what do you guys think is the most important political issue in this congressional campaign? Is it the economy, the war in Iraq, or is it whether or not President Bush ought to fire Karl Rove?”
“It beats me,” I replied.
“My God!” exclaimed Lunkhead, “That’s why you’re such a dunderhead! Everyone knows the major issue in this political season is illegal immigration!” he shouted.
“Nuts,” said Dunderhead as he swallowed a large sip of beer, “Immigration is the oldest political football in the history of this country next to taxes. If you can identify a period in American history when a large proportion of the public didn’t have their undies in a bunch over the importation or exportation of foreigners in or out of this country, I’ll buy the rest of your drinks tonight! Legal or illegal has never had anything to do with it either way. The bottom line, especially these days, is most Americans are scared of anyone with a dark complexion and with a strange religion and who isn’t doing cart wheels over learning the English language!
“Bull!” growled Lunkhead as he stuck an unlit cigar in the corner of his mouth, “This is our house, and there’s only so much money to run it and there’s only so much room to live in it and there’s got to be rules for moving in and out as well as for living in it. That’s what it’s all about!”
“Well then,” I broke in having just swallowed a handful of peanuts, “what rules are these immigrants breaking once they’re living in our house?”
“What difference does it make what rules illegal immigrants are breaking once they get into this country?” demanded Lunkhead, “They’re already crooks because they’ve broken our laws by coming here illegally in the first place. So why does it matter what rules they break after that?”
“He’s exactly right to be asking that question,” Dunderhead replied for me, “because, as you damn well ought to know, one of the realities in the United States is that historically rules outweigh laws, because rules are most powerful especially when they’re unwritten. The truth of the matter is that we Americans follow unwritten rules far more readily than we follow laws!” insisted Dunderhead, leaning heavily on his right elbow as he scratched somewhere.
“You’re crazy, Dunderhead!” said Lunkhead, “Even more, you’re trying to evade the whole argument by splitting hairs. Laws are rules and you know it!”
“What country did you grow up in, Lunkhead?” Dunderhead shot back, “We’ve always evaded or broken the laws we don’t like by establishing private little strategies and rules to get around unpopular laws. We broke not only a law, but a constitutional amendment back in the twenties so many times that Roosevelt had to get the amendment repealed during the Depression. I’m talking about Prohibition in case you’ve forgotten, Lunkhead! Also, three constitutional amendments were passed during the 1860s which not only freed the slaves, but granted them voting and other rights. Well, not only citizens, but even states found ways to break those constitutionally proscribed laws so that they could follow Jim Crow’s rules. I’m telling you, Lunkhead, I’m not splitting hairs! This may be a government of laws, but it’s a society of unwritten rules which are often designed to skirt those laws which the most powerful and determined among us don’t want to follow. How do you think George Bush legitimatized his 2000 election as President?”
“So, it’s all right with you if illegals come into this country, take our jobs, collect welfare and even eventually apply for Social Security benefits thereby draining off the money hardworking American citizens have put aside for their old age? Besides, leave George Bush out of this, Dunderhead!” cried Lunkhead, his voice almost becoming a screech.
“What does it matter whether or not I like their being here?” Dunderhead pounded the bar, “Don’t you get it that someone with a lot of money and influence is benefiting from the latest immigration flap?”
“Don’t be so stupid, Dunderhead! Of course, I get it that someone’s benefiting from illegal immigration -- and most of them are Liberals,” said Lunkhead dropping his voice and pointing his index finger for emphasis. “They think they can increase the ethnic vote already in this country by allowing the distant relations of these ethnic minorities into states like California and Texas where they’ve already tried, but fortunately failed, to pass motor voter laws and drivers licensing privileges for illegal aliens.” Ticking his points off on his fingers, Lunkhead continued, “In fact, the only illegal alien Liberals ever wanted to deport was that Cuban kid Elian Gonzalez back in 2000.”
“I still can’t imagine what country you’ve been living in, Lunkhead!” insisted Dunderhead. “If this whole thing is only political for Democrats, then why is it that both President Bushes have denied federal funding to the Republican governors of the State of California to protect their citizens against the high costs for implementing federal standards in minority and immigrant education? Why is it that corporations, which are the GOP’s biggest donors, are allowed to benefit the most from illegal immigration?”
Finally, getting a word in edgewise, I asked, “What’s the bottom line in this whole illegal immigrant debate guys?”
“The bottom line,” said Lunkhead, chomping down on his cigar, “is that these immigrants are crooks breaking into our house, The United States of America. Even more, when they get here, they want something for nothing! Politicians like Maryland Senator Paul Sarbanes are willing to give them tax breaks as well as college entrance preferment and they don’t even have to learn our language! Worse than that, even, are the cry babies who say that unless we let these people in, we’re bigoted. Look,” he continued, “these immigrants aren’t even worthy of the name ‘ immigrant’. You look back and those immigrants who set foot on Ellis Island a hundred or so years ago actually bent down and kissed the ground. They weren’t looking for a handout, they were looking for opportunity. They weren’t looking to be protected from outrageous laboring conditions, all they wanted was a chance and God bless them! This new generation of immigrant crooks--as I call ‘em--aren’t even interested in being real Americans. If they were, at least they’d learn English!”
“The bottom line,” said Dunderhead knotting his left fist and pointing his right index finger along the bar at Lunkhead, “is that this guy is being hornswaggled and he doesn’t even know it! In the first place, there are said to be about 12,000,000 illegals in this country of about 300,000,000. So here you’ve got a bunch of politicians apparently successfully convincing people that 96 per cent of the people can’t control the remaining four per cent—which is your 12,000,000 illegal immigrant population. Second, as for the “our house” analogy, ask the descendants of Native Americans if their ancestors didn’t once consider this continent “their house”. Incidentally, Lunkhead, the presidents like Andrew Jackson, the governors like Sam Houston and the generals like George Custer, who killed off the Indians and snatched their land were all “law-abiding and legally constituted American citizens”. As for the willingness of immigrants of a century ago to work under terrible conditions and to submit themselves to the outrageous prejudices of the time, well, that’s no recommendation for “America the Beautiful” as far as I’m concerned. Only in America do we brag about how we’ve treated people in the past and then criticize present day minorities for not being willing to submit to the same treatment! The real bottom line is that the politicians on both sides have got us where they want us – scared.”
“So,” growled Lunkhead, banging his just-drained scotch glass on the bar for emphasis, “of course, I’m scared! Why shouldn’t I be scared? I’m scared because I care—and that’s apparently more than you do, Dunderhead! Fellows, you know the guy who successfully enters the United States carrying a nuclear suitcase bomb is much more likely to be a dark skinned Hispanic or Arab than he is to be anything else—face it, Dunderhead!” warned Lunkhead.
“I don’t know,” I mused. “It seems to me that historically most of those dangerous to our national security have been people such as Benedict Arnold, Ethel and Julius Rosenberg, a bunch of well-trained and educated whiz kids in the pentagon who sold secrets to the Soviets in the seventies and eighties plus perhaps even naive John Walker Lind—the American kid we caught in Afghanistan with the Taliban. As I recall, the one thing they all have in common aside from their being Caucasian is their American citizenship. Come to think of it, fellows,” I continued, “ we haven’t had many very nice things to say about the French lately or even the Swedes, for that matter. So, were I Osama Bin Laden, I’d do my best to keep the American people worrying about illegal Hispanic or Arab immigration while I picked someone to carry the nuclear suitcase bomb who looked like Bridget Bardot and came straight out of Kansas.
Suddenly I noticed that both Lunkhead and Dunderhead had slipped off their stools and were walking out of the bar arm in arm. Lunkhead had actually struck a match to his cigar before reaching the door of the non-smoking bar.
“I don’t know about Dunderhead,” said Lunkhead, “but I’m going home and getting under the covers and pulling them over my head with Mrs. Lunkhead where I belong. Up until now, I was mostly frightened by Dunderhead’s naïveté about illegal immigration. Now, I’m scared of you!”
As my two pals disappeared down the street I whipped out my trusty cell phone and punched in a number. In seconds, the deep voice of Vice President Dick Cheney was in my ear.
“Nothing to worry about, Sir,” I said, “Lunkhead and Dunderhead are no threat to our national security, although Dunderhead probably thinks too much for complete comfort. You don’t really have to convince them of anything—scare ‘em and you’ve got ‘em!”
Then, to the Vice President’s grunt of satisfaction, I said of my report:
RESPECTFULLY SUBMITTED,
EDWIN COONEY
Monday, April 30, 2007
Sunday, April 22, 2007
COMMON SENSE, A PERPETUAL MYTH!
Originally written September 21st, 2005
BY EDWIN COONEY
Okay, so here goes my reputation! After all, it’s all in the day’s work of a budding columnist! There are a whole bevy of family members, former teachers, and -- of course -- friends, who won’t be the least bit surprised to learn of my low regard for “common sense.” Not even my best friend agrees with my conclusion, but I believe that our all too frequent appeal to “common sense” is an appeal to absolutely nothing.
DEFINING COMMON SENSE:
Dictionary.com has two definitions for common sense from different sources:
The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language defines common sense as “sound judgment not based on specialized knowledge; native good judgment.”
WordNet says that it is “sound practical judgment” as in the phrase "I can't see the sense in doing it now”.
Aside from objecting to a definition based on the word “not,” rather than on an affirmative word telling me what common sense is instead of what it isn’t, I insist that all knowledge is specialized knowledge. Knowledge has to be specialized if it’s to be applicable! Why? Because every action or belief has limited range in its applicability.
My second objection to “common sense” is the blanket permission it provides for feelings of superiority, self-satisfaction and worst of all, arrogance on the part of those who espouse it.
My third objection is that it teaches absolutely nothing.
FOR EXAMPLE:
Dad and mom are sitting across the kitchen table from their ten-year-old who was caught stealing candy from the corner store. All three are devastated. Tears rim every eye. Mom and dad have always taught their son that stealing is both wrong and shameful. The boy knows that he has disappointed his parents and in addition that he is in a mess of trouble. His dad is lecturing him on the twin themes of morality and personal expectations. So far the lad understands what they’re talking about. Then suddenly dad asks: “Son, why didn’t you use the plain ‘common sense,’ that God gave you?” The next thing that happens is that dad gets the answer he deserves: “I don’t know,” says the boy — and he truly doesn’t! He wasn’t thinking about right or wrong when he did what he did, he was thinking about getting some candy. Perhaps it was a dare and he was focused on attaining the approval of an older boy or even perhaps a girl for his being so brave. Determining what the lad’s motivation is, of course, IS the parent’s most urgent and legitimate objective. The messages of disappointment, embarrassment, anger and even perhaps a lesson on morality are certainly appropriate because they contain practical and thoughtful guidance. Dad’s appeal to common sense, on the other hand, elicits exactly what it ought to:
“I don’t know!”
I assert further that there is no reaction to any idea or event that is universally the same. Is it “common sense” to come in out of the rain or is it simply more comfortable to do so? My guess is that it’s more a matter of comfort for the sake of you and your anxious mom who just called you in even though you wanted to stay out in the summer shower. People don’t automatically come in out of the rain. If they did, the raincoat manufacturers of America would never have that supreme satisfaction of lobbying a congressman or woman!
A few months ago, I received the following in my email. Its author is unknown. It was entitled “THE OBITUARY OF COMMON SENSE.” Due to its brevity I offer it here in its entirety:
Today we mourn the passing of an old friend, by the name of Common Sense.
Common Sense lived a long life but died from heart failure early in the
new millennium. No one really knows how old he was since his birth
records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape.
He selflessly devoted his life to service in schools, hospitals, homes,
factories and offices, helping folks get jobs done without fanfare and
foolishness. For decades, petty rules, silly laws and frivolous lawsuits
held no power over Common Sense. He was credited with cultivating such
valued lessons as to know when to come in out of the rain, the early
bird gets the worm, and life isn't always fair.
Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more
than you earn), reliable parenting strategies (the adults are in charge,
not the kids), and it's okay to come in second (or even last, as long as
your best efforts were given).
A veteran of the Industrial Revolution, the Great Depression, and the
Technological Revolution, Common Sense survived cultural and educational
trends including body piercing, whole language and "new math."
But his health declined when he became infected with the "If-it-only-
helps-one-person-it's-worth-it" virus. In recent decades his waning
strength proved no match for the ravages of overbearing regulations. He
watched in pain as good people became ruled by self-seeking lawyers.
His health rapidly deteriorated when schools endlessly implemented zero
tolerance policies, when six-year-old boys were charged with sexual
harassment for kissing a classmate, when a teen was suspended for taking a
swig of mouthwash after lunch, and a teacher was fired for reprimanding an
unruly student.
It declined even further when schools had to get parental consent to
administer aspirin to a student but cannot inform the parent when the
female student is pregnant or wants an abortion.
Finally, Common Sense lost his will to live as the Ten Commandments
became contraband, churches became businesses, criminals received better
treatment than victims, and federal judges stuck their noses in
everything from Boy Scouts to professional sports. Finally, a woman who
was stupid enough not to realize that coffee is hot, and was awarded a
huge pay-out for her stupidity, caused Common Sense to finally throw in
the towel.
Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents Truth and Trust; his
wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason. He
is survived by two stepbrothers: My Rights and Ima Whiner. Not many
attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.
Okay, that commentary, like this one, is slightly tongue-in-cheek. Its main flaw is that it seeks to cover its clear political agenda as an appeal to “common sense.” The author obviously disapproves of big government, over-protective school officials, scheming lawyers, and abortion. These are all legitimate political as well as moral positions, but they have nothing to do with sense, common or good. (By the way, what that column conveniently doesn’t tell you is that the woman who spilled the MacDonald’s coffee didn’t just get burned as she might have at home. She suffered third degree burns over sixty per cent of her thigh and pelvic area. Also, she offered to settle with MacDonalds for considerably less than she won in court.)
To me, the above article reflects both intolerance and arrogant self-satisfaction on the part of its anonymous author.
There is, of course, such a phenomenon as good sense. Good sense, however, is not instinctual as implied by the proponents of “common sense.” Good sense is learned through example, strengthened through the experience of trial and error and nurtured by our morals and mores. Above all, it isn’t implanted in our hearts through the bullying tactics of self-satisfied and smug superiors.
In the long history of humankind, events have occurred for both better and worse which have had nothing to do whatsoever with sense—common or uncommon.
They occurred for our betterment when:
The Soviet Empire almost bloodlessly crumbled;
Apollo 13, although severely damaged, miraculously returned safely to earth;
Despite midnight telephone threats to his children, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
went ahead with his mission;
The smallest fishing vessels worked their will at Dunkirk under relentless German attack;
Some survived Nazi death camps;
Abraham Lincoln asked the victorious Union band to play Dixie;
Twelve-year-old Joan of Arc led the French to victory over superior English
forces in the late 1420s and early 1430s;
And when, for those who believe, Christ, while bearing great pain, asked His
Father’s forgiveness of those who were persecuting Him.
Miracles make no sense, but we still pray for them!
Oh yes, I meant to ask: how much sense did God give them little green apples?
RESPECTFULLY SUBMITTED,
EDWIN COONEY
BY EDWIN COONEY
Okay, so here goes my reputation! After all, it’s all in the day’s work of a budding columnist! There are a whole bevy of family members, former teachers, and -- of course -- friends, who won’t be the least bit surprised to learn of my low regard for “common sense.” Not even my best friend agrees with my conclusion, but I believe that our all too frequent appeal to “common sense” is an appeal to absolutely nothing.
DEFINING COMMON SENSE:
Dictionary.com has two definitions for common sense from different sources:
The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language defines common sense as “sound judgment not based on specialized knowledge; native good judgment.”
WordNet says that it is “sound practical judgment” as in the phrase "I can't see the sense in doing it now”.
Aside from objecting to a definition based on the word “not,” rather than on an affirmative word telling me what common sense is instead of what it isn’t, I insist that all knowledge is specialized knowledge. Knowledge has to be specialized if it’s to be applicable! Why? Because every action or belief has limited range in its applicability.
My second objection to “common sense” is the blanket permission it provides for feelings of superiority, self-satisfaction and worst of all, arrogance on the part of those who espouse it.
My third objection is that it teaches absolutely nothing.
FOR EXAMPLE:
Dad and mom are sitting across the kitchen table from their ten-year-old who was caught stealing candy from the corner store. All three are devastated. Tears rim every eye. Mom and dad have always taught their son that stealing is both wrong and shameful. The boy knows that he has disappointed his parents and in addition that he is in a mess of trouble. His dad is lecturing him on the twin themes of morality and personal expectations. So far the lad understands what they’re talking about. Then suddenly dad asks: “Son, why didn’t you use the plain ‘common sense,’ that God gave you?” The next thing that happens is that dad gets the answer he deserves: “I don’t know,” says the boy — and he truly doesn’t! He wasn’t thinking about right or wrong when he did what he did, he was thinking about getting some candy. Perhaps it was a dare and he was focused on attaining the approval of an older boy or even perhaps a girl for his being so brave. Determining what the lad’s motivation is, of course, IS the parent’s most urgent and legitimate objective. The messages of disappointment, embarrassment, anger and even perhaps a lesson on morality are certainly appropriate because they contain practical and thoughtful guidance. Dad’s appeal to common sense, on the other hand, elicits exactly what it ought to:
“I don’t know!”
I assert further that there is no reaction to any idea or event that is universally the same. Is it “common sense” to come in out of the rain or is it simply more comfortable to do so? My guess is that it’s more a matter of comfort for the sake of you and your anxious mom who just called you in even though you wanted to stay out in the summer shower. People don’t automatically come in out of the rain. If they did, the raincoat manufacturers of America would never have that supreme satisfaction of lobbying a congressman or woman!
A few months ago, I received the following in my email. Its author is unknown. It was entitled “THE OBITUARY OF COMMON SENSE.” Due to its brevity I offer it here in its entirety:
Today we mourn the passing of an old friend, by the name of Common Sense.
Common Sense lived a long life but died from heart failure early in the
new millennium. No one really knows how old he was since his birth
records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape.
He selflessly devoted his life to service in schools, hospitals, homes,
factories and offices, helping folks get jobs done without fanfare and
foolishness. For decades, petty rules, silly laws and frivolous lawsuits
held no power over Common Sense. He was credited with cultivating such
valued lessons as to know when to come in out of the rain, the early
bird gets the worm, and life isn't always fair.
Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more
than you earn), reliable parenting strategies (the adults are in charge,
not the kids), and it's okay to come in second (or even last, as long as
your best efforts were given).
A veteran of the Industrial Revolution, the Great Depression, and the
Technological Revolution, Common Sense survived cultural and educational
trends including body piercing, whole language and "new math."
But his health declined when he became infected with the "If-it-only-
helps-one-person-it's-worth-it" virus. In recent decades his waning
strength proved no match for the ravages of overbearing regulations. He
watched in pain as good people became ruled by self-seeking lawyers.
His health rapidly deteriorated when schools endlessly implemented zero
tolerance policies, when six-year-old boys were charged with sexual
harassment for kissing a classmate, when a teen was suspended for taking a
swig of mouthwash after lunch, and a teacher was fired for reprimanding an
unruly student.
It declined even further when schools had to get parental consent to
administer aspirin to a student but cannot inform the parent when the
female student is pregnant or wants an abortion.
Finally, Common Sense lost his will to live as the Ten Commandments
became contraband, churches became businesses, criminals received better
treatment than victims, and federal judges stuck their noses in
everything from Boy Scouts to professional sports. Finally, a woman who
was stupid enough not to realize that coffee is hot, and was awarded a
huge pay-out for her stupidity, caused Common Sense to finally throw in
the towel.
Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents Truth and Trust; his
wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason. He
is survived by two stepbrothers: My Rights and Ima Whiner. Not many
attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.
Okay, that commentary, like this one, is slightly tongue-in-cheek. Its main flaw is that it seeks to cover its clear political agenda as an appeal to “common sense.” The author obviously disapproves of big government, over-protective school officials, scheming lawyers, and abortion. These are all legitimate political as well as moral positions, but they have nothing to do with sense, common or good. (By the way, what that column conveniently doesn’t tell you is that the woman who spilled the MacDonald’s coffee didn’t just get burned as she might have at home. She suffered third degree burns over sixty per cent of her thigh and pelvic area. Also, she offered to settle with MacDonalds for considerably less than she won in court.)
To me, the above article reflects both intolerance and arrogant self-satisfaction on the part of its anonymous author.
There is, of course, such a phenomenon as good sense. Good sense, however, is not instinctual as implied by the proponents of “common sense.” Good sense is learned through example, strengthened through the experience of trial and error and nurtured by our morals and mores. Above all, it isn’t implanted in our hearts through the bullying tactics of self-satisfied and smug superiors.
In the long history of humankind, events have occurred for both better and worse which have had nothing to do whatsoever with sense—common or uncommon.
They occurred for our betterment when:
The Soviet Empire almost bloodlessly crumbled;
Apollo 13, although severely damaged, miraculously returned safely to earth;
Despite midnight telephone threats to his children, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
went ahead with his mission;
The smallest fishing vessels worked their will at Dunkirk under relentless German attack;
Some survived Nazi death camps;
Abraham Lincoln asked the victorious Union band to play Dixie;
Twelve-year-old Joan of Arc led the French to victory over superior English
forces in the late 1420s and early 1430s;
And when, for those who believe, Christ, while bearing great pain, asked His
Father’s forgiveness of those who were persecuting Him.
Miracles make no sense, but we still pray for them!
Oh yes, I meant to ask: how much sense did God give them little green apples?
RESPECTFULLY SUBMITTED,
EDWIN COONEY
WATCH OUT FOR CHANGE -- SHE NEVER ANNOUNCES HERSELF!
Originally written September 7TH, 2005
BY EDWIN COONEY
One day in late August 2001, I was sitting in a local restaurant with my youngest lad. During our conversation, which probably was about the fortunes of the Oakland Athletics vs. the New York Yankees, Elvis Presley’s “You Ain’t Nothin’ but a Hounddog” came over the restaurant sound system.
As I sat there, half absorbing the reasons why the young, “hungry” Oakland A’s were going to embarrass my overpaid, over-confident Yankees, Elvis sang away in the background, “…when they said you was high classed/ well, that was just a lie./ You ain’t never caught a rabbit and you ain’t no friend of mine.”
“Good God,” I thought to myself, “how many times have I heard that song or extended shout or whatever it is? Goodness! 1956 was 45 years ago.”
Blown away by my own thoughts of time and distance and the rest, I decided my youngest needed a little history lesson. “You know,” I said, “that song is forty-five years old?” — he knew the song since I have it at home — “Do you realize that if you and I were sitting here back in 1956 I could not have found a song that old on any juke box?
A song that was forty-five years old in 1956 would have come out in 1911. Certainly you remember Harry Lauder and Edward M. Favor, don’t you, son?”
“I think both Hudson and Zito can easily shut the Yankees down,” my persistent lad went on. Of course, he wasn’t impressed, partly because he was just nineteen and I, his boring dad, was changing the subject from sports to history again, but mostly because few young minds can possibly grasp the concept of a forty-five year continuum. Hell! My mind was doing flips as it literally goggled at its own thoughts. “Things sure have changed the last ninety years!”
While I don’t recall the exact date of this non-exchange between my nineteen-year-old and me, I know it took place in late August 2001.
Thoughts of my son’s youth and non-appreciation for forty-five-year-old Elvis Presley hits forced my mind back a mere forty years to the first year of another presidency.
Two-thousand-one was the first year in office for President Bush whose election, though official, was still in dispute. Exactly forty years before, John Kennedy’s election to the presidency was also in dispute. In 2001, Barry Bonds was to break the single season home run record in baseball just as Roger Maris had in 1961. However, there was a fundamental cultural difference somehow between 2001 and 1961. What exactly it was I couldn’t quite grasp at the time.
Was it youth perhaps? Nineteen-sixty-one was a really youthful year it seemed. Not only was President Kennedy young—he was just 43, Elvis was 26, Bob Dylan was 23, and Peter, Paul, and Mary who were also just getting their start were very young. The New York Yankees had fired old Casey Stengel and hired young Ralph Houk as their manager. Twenty-six-year-old Roger Maris was going after Babe Ruth’s old 1927 single season home run record. I was just 15, four years younger than my 19-year-old son of 2001 vintage.
The force of so many different realities hit me that day as I was lunching with my son. Although he could have voted in the 2000 presidential election, he did not. Had he done so, though, he’d have voted very differently from me. No one of his generation remembered Jimmy Carter, let alone John F. Kennedy. My son, unlike his father, had no expectation of how the government might assist him in getting an education or in making a living.
Because my son and his generation were so young, they were free of so many things that clog my mind when I think about our national values and priorities. Unlike his dad, my boy wasn’t raised with the Depression or World War II era horror stories. His generation didn’t experience the terror of the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis or the frustrating years of the struggle for civil rights. Nor was he shattered by the assassination of one president or by the personal defects of the two men who followed President Kennedy—Lyndon B. Johnson and Richard M. Nixon. As for Bill Clinton’s maladies, they weren’t as presidential as much as they were personal ones—like those of Warren G. Harding.
What came so starkly to me that day was the realization that we had clearly entered a political if not an entirely conservative social era. Exactly when we had passed irrevocably out of the old liberal era wasn’t clear to me, but obviously we had. Then it finally dawned on me.
It wasn’t a question of youth as it had been in 1961. There were as many old conservatives as there were young ones. It was a matter of the conservative’s favorite watch word—it was FREEDOM. No longer were we as a people collectively responsible for one another’s well-being. We had passed from an era of social obligation to an era of individual choice.
Political liberals had, after all, simply run out of ideas. Conservatives, on the other hand, had the right and, in fact, the only really good idea. They’d take this government monster apart and give you your money back even if there were a few debts to be paid. After all, they’d just been kidding all of those years when they complained so bitterly about deficit financing.
A few days after that lunch, it was September 11th 2001. President Bush’s mission was clear. He would provide the only service that political conservatives believe he is constitutionally responsible for providing: he, as Commander-in-Chief of our armed forces, would protect us from a foreign foe.
First came the fighting in Afghanistan, then in Iraq. Next, we began borrowing from -- of all people -- the Chinese Communists. Wow! “The times, they [were] a’ changin’”! Whoever heard of a capitalist borrowing from a Communist?
Next came the merging: government must be streamlined. We’ve merged the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) with the Department of Homeland Security. After all, our only legitimate mission is to help people if they’ve been victimized by international terrorism.
Finally came hurricane Katrina. The president is surely baffled by all that has gone wrong. The future of a great American city hangs in the balance. Too many people are dead or in some other way hurting. This tragedy is no one’s fault and yet, in a way, it’s everyone’s fault.
We’re all too often too smug for our own good. We get an idea or develop a political concept and expect it to be applicable at all times and on all occasions -- and then we wonder why bad things happen to us.
Things do change, you know! The Oakland Athletics do win, and politicians are affected by events outside of Washington. Oh yes, you’ll never believe it but I swear it’s true—Elvis’s hound dog just caught a rabbit!
RESPECTFULLY SUBMITTED,
EDWIN COONEY
BY EDWIN COONEY
One day in late August 2001, I was sitting in a local restaurant with my youngest lad. During our conversation, which probably was about the fortunes of the Oakland Athletics vs. the New York Yankees, Elvis Presley’s “You Ain’t Nothin’ but a Hounddog” came over the restaurant sound system.
As I sat there, half absorbing the reasons why the young, “hungry” Oakland A’s were going to embarrass my overpaid, over-confident Yankees, Elvis sang away in the background, “…when they said you was high classed/ well, that was just a lie./ You ain’t never caught a rabbit and you ain’t no friend of mine.”
“Good God,” I thought to myself, “how many times have I heard that song or extended shout or whatever it is? Goodness! 1956 was 45 years ago.”
Blown away by my own thoughts of time and distance and the rest, I decided my youngest needed a little history lesson. “You know,” I said, “that song is forty-five years old?” — he knew the song since I have it at home — “Do you realize that if you and I were sitting here back in 1956 I could not have found a song that old on any juke box?
A song that was forty-five years old in 1956 would have come out in 1911. Certainly you remember Harry Lauder and Edward M. Favor, don’t you, son?”
“I think both Hudson and Zito can easily shut the Yankees down,” my persistent lad went on. Of course, he wasn’t impressed, partly because he was just nineteen and I, his boring dad, was changing the subject from sports to history again, but mostly because few young minds can possibly grasp the concept of a forty-five year continuum. Hell! My mind was doing flips as it literally goggled at its own thoughts. “Things sure have changed the last ninety years!”
While I don’t recall the exact date of this non-exchange between my nineteen-year-old and me, I know it took place in late August 2001.
Thoughts of my son’s youth and non-appreciation for forty-five-year-old Elvis Presley hits forced my mind back a mere forty years to the first year of another presidency.
Two-thousand-one was the first year in office for President Bush whose election, though official, was still in dispute. Exactly forty years before, John Kennedy’s election to the presidency was also in dispute. In 2001, Barry Bonds was to break the single season home run record in baseball just as Roger Maris had in 1961. However, there was a fundamental cultural difference somehow between 2001 and 1961. What exactly it was I couldn’t quite grasp at the time.
Was it youth perhaps? Nineteen-sixty-one was a really youthful year it seemed. Not only was President Kennedy young—he was just 43, Elvis was 26, Bob Dylan was 23, and Peter, Paul, and Mary who were also just getting their start were very young. The New York Yankees had fired old Casey Stengel and hired young Ralph Houk as their manager. Twenty-six-year-old Roger Maris was going after Babe Ruth’s old 1927 single season home run record. I was just 15, four years younger than my 19-year-old son of 2001 vintage.
The force of so many different realities hit me that day as I was lunching with my son. Although he could have voted in the 2000 presidential election, he did not. Had he done so, though, he’d have voted very differently from me. No one of his generation remembered Jimmy Carter, let alone John F. Kennedy. My son, unlike his father, had no expectation of how the government might assist him in getting an education or in making a living.
Because my son and his generation were so young, they were free of so many things that clog my mind when I think about our national values and priorities. Unlike his dad, my boy wasn’t raised with the Depression or World War II era horror stories. His generation didn’t experience the terror of the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis or the frustrating years of the struggle for civil rights. Nor was he shattered by the assassination of one president or by the personal defects of the two men who followed President Kennedy—Lyndon B. Johnson and Richard M. Nixon. As for Bill Clinton’s maladies, they weren’t as presidential as much as they were personal ones—like those of Warren G. Harding.
What came so starkly to me that day was the realization that we had clearly entered a political if not an entirely conservative social era. Exactly when we had passed irrevocably out of the old liberal era wasn’t clear to me, but obviously we had. Then it finally dawned on me.
It wasn’t a question of youth as it had been in 1961. There were as many old conservatives as there were young ones. It was a matter of the conservative’s favorite watch word—it was FREEDOM. No longer were we as a people collectively responsible for one another’s well-being. We had passed from an era of social obligation to an era of individual choice.
Political liberals had, after all, simply run out of ideas. Conservatives, on the other hand, had the right and, in fact, the only really good idea. They’d take this government monster apart and give you your money back even if there were a few debts to be paid. After all, they’d just been kidding all of those years when they complained so bitterly about deficit financing.
A few days after that lunch, it was September 11th 2001. President Bush’s mission was clear. He would provide the only service that political conservatives believe he is constitutionally responsible for providing: he, as Commander-in-Chief of our armed forces, would protect us from a foreign foe.
First came the fighting in Afghanistan, then in Iraq. Next, we began borrowing from -- of all people -- the Chinese Communists. Wow! “The times, they [were] a’ changin’”! Whoever heard of a capitalist borrowing from a Communist?
Next came the merging: government must be streamlined. We’ve merged the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) with the Department of Homeland Security. After all, our only legitimate mission is to help people if they’ve been victimized by international terrorism.
Finally came hurricane Katrina. The president is surely baffled by all that has gone wrong. The future of a great American city hangs in the balance. Too many people are dead or in some other way hurting. This tragedy is no one’s fault and yet, in a way, it’s everyone’s fault.
We’re all too often too smug for our own good. We get an idea or develop a political concept and expect it to be applicable at all times and on all occasions -- and then we wonder why bad things happen to us.
Things do change, you know! The Oakland Athletics do win, and politicians are affected by events outside of Washington. Oh yes, you’ll never believe it but I swear it’s true—Elvis’s hound dog just caught a rabbit!
RESPECTFULLY SUBMITTED,
EDWIN COONEY
A PERSPECTIVE ON PERSPECTIVE
Originally written August 3rd, 2005
BY EDWIN COONEY
In my last two columns, I have offered my perspective on the lives or actions of two American Presidents—Gerald R. Ford and Dwight D. Eisenhower. Indulging in perspective can be both entertaining as well as informational. Its value can however be quite problematical.
Perhaps the simplest definition of perspective is: the capacity to view things in their true relationship or relative importance to one another. That, of course, can be exceedingly difficult to do, especially depending on how personal the situation is.
Suppose you’re about to attend a party you’ve been looking forward to, but you begin that day by biting the inside of your cheek. Your ability to have a really good time at the party is invariably affected as, time after time, your attention is disrupted or the food you’re trying to enjoy stings, as your tongue constantly explores the sore spot in your mouth. It’s even possible that you still aren’t feeling much better when you come across your Aunt Alice who happens to be suffering with a broken leg. Yet, years later, with the inside of your cheek healed, you might recall that you had a lot of laughs and that your cousin Henry looked both silly and pompous in his suit alongside the swimming pool even before he was tossed into the water. Your less-than-perfect experience has been modified by a pain-free distant perspective.
Political and historic events, religious passions, or matters of the heart can also be quite formidable experiences. Few, if any, of life’s experiences occur in either a personal or situational vacuum. However, perspective can be a very valuable tool in assisting you in coming to grips with the conflicts that come with them. Perspective’s greatest gift is intellectual, emotional, or even spiritual balance.
War and ongoing international crises cry out for perspective. Since the spring of 2002, when the build-up to our invasion of Iraq began, supporters of the administration’s policy have been particularly vigorous in their denunciation of France. French fries have become “freedom fries”. There is even a riddle that asks why the French have such wide and shady boulevards entering Paris. The answer is to make things more comfortable for the invading Germans.
The irony here is that this anti-French feeling is generally encouraged by conservatives who insist all of the time that they have eternal respect for the views of our founding fathers. A bit of perspective would remind them, however, that France is our oldest ally. Without her aid during our Revolutionary War, George Washington, John Adams, John Hancock (the guy with the big signature), Thomas Jefferson, and Benjamin Franklin would all have been hung -- if not drawn and quartered -- on London’s Tower Hill with thousands looking on.
Our love for the British, which I share, is really quite new. There were few Americans born between 1760 and 1930—a period of 170 years—who loved the British. Not until Winston Churchill inspired our desperate efforts in World War II with his bulldog face, his cigar, and his eloquent defiance of Hitler, Tojo, and Mussolini did the average American have much good to say about the British. For most Americans, the British -- with their fancy dress, haughty manners and accents, their Empire and their love for royalty -- just weren’t “…down to earth!” Eventually, John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison, Ringo Starr and others would come along to provide Americans with a different perspective on Britain.
One common thread that runs through American history is the irresistible tendency of the current generation to look longingly back to the past. Our 229 year history, going back to 1776, is sufficiently filled with events and achievements on the part of both Conservative and Liberal devotees to encourage such longings.
Modern Conservatives look back to the 1950s as a time when our streets were comparatively safe, our neighborhoods and schools were pretty drug free, and God and the flag reigned supreme in the classroom. However, they fail to take into account that in 1950, for example, we were at war in Korea, our future seemed imperiled because Ethel and Julius Rosenberg had sold atomic secrets to the Russians, polio annually terrorized thousands of American homes, and millions of black Americans lived in fear of Jim Crow lynch mobs.
Modern Liberals look back to their 1960s “heyday” to remember when Earl Warren’s court, the Congress, and Presidents Kennedy and Johnson championed their just causes. Flowers, folksongs, and free love flourished at Woodstock and in the streets of San Francisco. It’s exceedingly doubtful, however, that these longing Liberals would much care to relive the challenges that made them famous such as General Louis Hershey’s draft, J. Edgar Hoover’s crackdown on student dissidents, or Bull Connor’s anti-civil rights dogs and hoses.
Perspective, therefore, can be like any other tool: valuable or pointless, boring or entertaining. One’s perspective usually depends on how one perceives situations and events. Since most of what I’ve written about perspective has had to do with looking backward, I’m going to close this week’s effort with, I think, a neat little story as to how things were perceived for the future 105 years ago.
In their delightful 1980 book entitled One Night Stands in American History, Richard Shenkman and Kurt Edward Reiger tell of a forward-looking perspective from 1900. This was still the horse and buggy era. Most of America’s streams were free of industrial waste and the air was still largely free of smog and pollution. No one had heard of the ozone. Most environmentalists would, supposedly, be smiling more than they are today.
At the close of 1900, someone estimated that there were three million horses in urban America. Not only could you see, pet and ride them—you could also smell them.
New York City’s approximately 150,000 horses dropped about 10 million pounds of equine dung annually on “the Big Apple.” Droppings from Rochester, New York’s 15,000 horses were enough to create a manure pile one acre square and 175 feet in height.
Even worse, every street corner in American cities contained a stable of horses packed with urine soaked hay. Flies were everywhere. When it rained the streets became a muddy manure mess. When the weather was dry, heavy carriage and foot traffic would grind the dry horse dung into a fine powder that would blow into one’s clothes, hair, nostrils and homes.
Horse pollution was getting so serious that some Americans, according to Otto L. Bettman’s 1974 book The Good Old Days: They were Terrible, really feared that our cities might eventually be buried under by horse manure.
What does this story have to do with perspective you ask? The answer is simple. Forward-looking Americans in 1900 perceived that a better time was on the horizon. Cities would very soon be quieter, cleaner, and healthier places in which to live: the gasoline engine was on its way!
Our capacity for perspective is most definitely a special gift! I love it and will continue to use it! How about you?
RESPECTFULLY SUBMITTED,
EDWIN COONEY
BY EDWIN COONEY
In my last two columns, I have offered my perspective on the lives or actions of two American Presidents—Gerald R. Ford and Dwight D. Eisenhower. Indulging in perspective can be both entertaining as well as informational. Its value can however be quite problematical.
Perhaps the simplest definition of perspective is: the capacity to view things in their true relationship or relative importance to one another. That, of course, can be exceedingly difficult to do, especially depending on how personal the situation is.
Suppose you’re about to attend a party you’ve been looking forward to, but you begin that day by biting the inside of your cheek. Your ability to have a really good time at the party is invariably affected as, time after time, your attention is disrupted or the food you’re trying to enjoy stings, as your tongue constantly explores the sore spot in your mouth. It’s even possible that you still aren’t feeling much better when you come across your Aunt Alice who happens to be suffering with a broken leg. Yet, years later, with the inside of your cheek healed, you might recall that you had a lot of laughs and that your cousin Henry looked both silly and pompous in his suit alongside the swimming pool even before he was tossed into the water. Your less-than-perfect experience has been modified by a pain-free distant perspective.
Political and historic events, religious passions, or matters of the heart can also be quite formidable experiences. Few, if any, of life’s experiences occur in either a personal or situational vacuum. However, perspective can be a very valuable tool in assisting you in coming to grips with the conflicts that come with them. Perspective’s greatest gift is intellectual, emotional, or even spiritual balance.
War and ongoing international crises cry out for perspective. Since the spring of 2002, when the build-up to our invasion of Iraq began, supporters of the administration’s policy have been particularly vigorous in their denunciation of France. French fries have become “freedom fries”. There is even a riddle that asks why the French have such wide and shady boulevards entering Paris. The answer is to make things more comfortable for the invading Germans.
The irony here is that this anti-French feeling is generally encouraged by conservatives who insist all of the time that they have eternal respect for the views of our founding fathers. A bit of perspective would remind them, however, that France is our oldest ally. Without her aid during our Revolutionary War, George Washington, John Adams, John Hancock (the guy with the big signature), Thomas Jefferson, and Benjamin Franklin would all have been hung -- if not drawn and quartered -- on London’s Tower Hill with thousands looking on.
Our love for the British, which I share, is really quite new. There were few Americans born between 1760 and 1930—a period of 170 years—who loved the British. Not until Winston Churchill inspired our desperate efforts in World War II with his bulldog face, his cigar, and his eloquent defiance of Hitler, Tojo, and Mussolini did the average American have much good to say about the British. For most Americans, the British -- with their fancy dress, haughty manners and accents, their Empire and their love for royalty -- just weren’t “…down to earth!” Eventually, John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison, Ringo Starr and others would come along to provide Americans with a different perspective on Britain.
One common thread that runs through American history is the irresistible tendency of the current generation to look longingly back to the past. Our 229 year history, going back to 1776, is sufficiently filled with events and achievements on the part of both Conservative and Liberal devotees to encourage such longings.
Modern Conservatives look back to the 1950s as a time when our streets were comparatively safe, our neighborhoods and schools were pretty drug free, and God and the flag reigned supreme in the classroom. However, they fail to take into account that in 1950, for example, we were at war in Korea, our future seemed imperiled because Ethel and Julius Rosenberg had sold atomic secrets to the Russians, polio annually terrorized thousands of American homes, and millions of black Americans lived in fear of Jim Crow lynch mobs.
Modern Liberals look back to their 1960s “heyday” to remember when Earl Warren’s court, the Congress, and Presidents Kennedy and Johnson championed their just causes. Flowers, folksongs, and free love flourished at Woodstock and in the streets of San Francisco. It’s exceedingly doubtful, however, that these longing Liberals would much care to relive the challenges that made them famous such as General Louis Hershey’s draft, J. Edgar Hoover’s crackdown on student dissidents, or Bull Connor’s anti-civil rights dogs and hoses.
Perspective, therefore, can be like any other tool: valuable or pointless, boring or entertaining. One’s perspective usually depends on how one perceives situations and events. Since most of what I’ve written about perspective has had to do with looking backward, I’m going to close this week’s effort with, I think, a neat little story as to how things were perceived for the future 105 years ago.
In their delightful 1980 book entitled One Night Stands in American History, Richard Shenkman and Kurt Edward Reiger tell of a forward-looking perspective from 1900. This was still the horse and buggy era. Most of America’s streams were free of industrial waste and the air was still largely free of smog and pollution. No one had heard of the ozone. Most environmentalists would, supposedly, be smiling more than they are today.
At the close of 1900, someone estimated that there were three million horses in urban America. Not only could you see, pet and ride them—you could also smell them.
New York City’s approximately 150,000 horses dropped about 10 million pounds of equine dung annually on “the Big Apple.” Droppings from Rochester, New York’s 15,000 horses were enough to create a manure pile one acre square and 175 feet in height.
Even worse, every street corner in American cities contained a stable of horses packed with urine soaked hay. Flies were everywhere. When it rained the streets became a muddy manure mess. When the weather was dry, heavy carriage and foot traffic would grind the dry horse dung into a fine powder that would blow into one’s clothes, hair, nostrils and homes.
Horse pollution was getting so serious that some Americans, according to Otto L. Bettman’s 1974 book The Good Old Days: They were Terrible, really feared that our cities might eventually be buried under by horse manure.
What does this story have to do with perspective you ask? The answer is simple. Forward-looking Americans in 1900 perceived that a better time was on the horizon. Cities would very soon be quieter, cleaner, and healthier places in which to live: the gasoline engine was on its way!
Our capacity for perspective is most definitely a special gift! I love it and will continue to use it! How about you?
RESPECTFULLY SUBMITTED,
EDWIN COONEY
THE "SPECIAL STRENGTH" OF THE SHAMELESS
Originally written June 29, 2005
By EDWIN COONEY
It was January 27th 1981, and we Americans were a proud and happy people. After just one week in office, President Ronald Wilson Reagan, by his mere presence in Washington, D. C., had vanquished the “malaise” of the Carter years. A major factor of our national sense of self-congratulations was the return of 52 Americans from 444 days as hostages in Iran.
I was listening that Tuesday afternoon to the Columbia Broadcasting System’s coverage of the hostages’ triumphant ride to the White House. Eric Severeid, one of CBS's longtime commentators, was called out of retirement to provide the broadcast with a bit of historical perspective. A victim of the Great Depression, an admirer of Franklin D. Roosevelt, a close personal friend to men like Adlai Stevenson and Hubert Humphrey, Mr. Severeid was no disciple of President Reagan’s brand of modern conservatism.
Where the liberal Severeid and the conservative president could find common ground, however, was in their mutual assessment of the basic goodness of the American people. During his comments on Iran’s audacity in the taking of the original 53 hostages, Mr. Severeid drew a most interesting distinction. Pointing out that the world’s reaction would be much more intense if Britain or the United States took hostages, Eric Severeid spoke of “The ‘special strength’ of the shameless.” Iran’s taking of our embassy personnel hostage was shameless rather than powerful because it responded to its resentments and ambitions, in this instance, rather than to its advertised moral foundation.
Unfortunately, time didn’t permit Eric Severeid to wax more eloquently on this theme, but the distinction between power and strength, as I understood Mr. Severeid, was the distinction between the metaphysical and the measurable or between the moral and the material forces of society. Mr. Severeid didn’t include the Soviet Union and China in his brief commentary, but it is my guess that if he had, he would have relegated them to the strong rather than to the powerful among the nations of the world.
Most every country possesses a military capacity for the protection of its people or for, in some instances, the whim or ambition of its leadership. But military and economic institutions, as vital as they are, are aspects of a nation’s material strength. A nation is powerful, it seems to me, when its might is merely secondary to its way of life. A powerful nation thus has the ability to attract the affection and admiration of other peoples to its ways, purposes, and culture quite aside from the strength of its economy or its arms.
In mulling over the significance of Eric Severeid’s observation, I wondered how many times in our own history we’ve been shameless rather than powerful in our reaction to the outrageous fortune of circumstances. Let’s randomly review some of our past. The process is a bit arbitrary, but I’ll be as objective as I can be. Here is a list of historic events. You decide whether we, as a people, were merely strong or whether we were powerful in our participation in these events. Score them for yourself, then see if your evaluation matches mine.
(1.) 1776—We declare our independence from Great Britain asserting that “All men are created equal.”
(2.) 1787—During the course of writing a constitution we declare that blacks and Indians should be counted as three fifths of a person.
(3.) 1788—We ratify a constitution with checks and balances in order to: “…form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare and to secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and to our posterity…”
(4.) 1832—Five Indian tribes are driven from their homes in the southeast and forced to move westward to Oklahoma territory along the “Trail of Tears,” in order to accommodate an expanding white population.
(5.) 1845—Democrats proclaim Manifest Destiny as their belief that Americans have been divinely inspired to rule the North American Continent from sea to sea.
(6.) 1861—Civil war begins when Confederate troops fire on Fort Sumter.
(7.) 1863—Lincoln signs the Emancipation Proclamation.
(8.) 1920—The Twentieth Amendment giving women the right to vote is ratified.
(9.) 1941—Congress declares war against the “Axis Powers”: Germany, Italy and Japan.
(10.) 1964—The 1964 Civil Rights Bill granting to all people equal access to public places and activities becomes law.
I evaluate events 2, 4, 5, and 6 as instances of our strength rather than of our power. It was our superiority in economic development, might of arms and numbers of people that enabled us to: degrade and enslave blacks; conquer and destroy Indian society and culture; defeat the Mexicans thus imposing upon them our “manifest destiny”; and finally to go to war with one another over the right of the southern states to secede from the union. These, it seems to me, are the acts of the shameless rather than acts of the powerful.
Events 1, 3, 7, 8, 9, and 10, I suggest, are examples of our power rather than of our strength alone. Now there is no debate as to the value either of a strong free enterprise economy or a strong military defense. We could not have: won independence from Great Britain; insured liberty to ourselves and to our posterity; upheld Mr. Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation (as morally and even legally weak as it was); defended ourselves against foreign attack during two world wars; or insured the civil rights of women and minorities without either a flourishing economy or a sufficient military or law enforcement capacity. But these six latter historic events are examples of our power rather than merely of our strength for three overriding reasons. They are inclusive of people’s aspirations and rights. They have established an expectation that those aspirations will be supported, sustained and expanded to the maximum benefit of all. Finally, the forces behind these events were performed on behalf of our moral values rather than merely on our practical and material needs.
In their support of President Bush’s re-election last November, American voters, it would seem, endorsed our current policy in Iraq. The question therefore is: Were we powerful or shameless by that vote?
Respectfully Submitted,
Edwin Cooney
By EDWIN COONEY
It was January 27th 1981, and we Americans were a proud and happy people. After just one week in office, President Ronald Wilson Reagan, by his mere presence in Washington, D. C., had vanquished the “malaise” of the Carter years. A major factor of our national sense of self-congratulations was the return of 52 Americans from 444 days as hostages in Iran.
I was listening that Tuesday afternoon to the Columbia Broadcasting System’s coverage of the hostages’ triumphant ride to the White House. Eric Severeid, one of CBS's longtime commentators, was called out of retirement to provide the broadcast with a bit of historical perspective. A victim of the Great Depression, an admirer of Franklin D. Roosevelt, a close personal friend to men like Adlai Stevenson and Hubert Humphrey, Mr. Severeid was no disciple of President Reagan’s brand of modern conservatism.
Where the liberal Severeid and the conservative president could find common ground, however, was in their mutual assessment of the basic goodness of the American people. During his comments on Iran’s audacity in the taking of the original 53 hostages, Mr. Severeid drew a most interesting distinction. Pointing out that the world’s reaction would be much more intense if Britain or the United States took hostages, Eric Severeid spoke of “The ‘special strength’ of the shameless.” Iran’s taking of our embassy personnel hostage was shameless rather than powerful because it responded to its resentments and ambitions, in this instance, rather than to its advertised moral foundation.
Unfortunately, time didn’t permit Eric Severeid to wax more eloquently on this theme, but the distinction between power and strength, as I understood Mr. Severeid, was the distinction between the metaphysical and the measurable or between the moral and the material forces of society. Mr. Severeid didn’t include the Soviet Union and China in his brief commentary, but it is my guess that if he had, he would have relegated them to the strong rather than to the powerful among the nations of the world.
Most every country possesses a military capacity for the protection of its people or for, in some instances, the whim or ambition of its leadership. But military and economic institutions, as vital as they are, are aspects of a nation’s material strength. A nation is powerful, it seems to me, when its might is merely secondary to its way of life. A powerful nation thus has the ability to attract the affection and admiration of other peoples to its ways, purposes, and culture quite aside from the strength of its economy or its arms.
In mulling over the significance of Eric Severeid’s observation, I wondered how many times in our own history we’ve been shameless rather than powerful in our reaction to the outrageous fortune of circumstances. Let’s randomly review some of our past. The process is a bit arbitrary, but I’ll be as objective as I can be. Here is a list of historic events. You decide whether we, as a people, were merely strong or whether we were powerful in our participation in these events. Score them for yourself, then see if your evaluation matches mine.
(1.) 1776—We declare our independence from Great Britain asserting that “All men are created equal.”
(2.) 1787—During the course of writing a constitution we declare that blacks and Indians should be counted as three fifths of a person.
(3.) 1788—We ratify a constitution with checks and balances in order to: “…form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare and to secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and to our posterity…”
(4.) 1832—Five Indian tribes are driven from their homes in the southeast and forced to move westward to Oklahoma territory along the “Trail of Tears,” in order to accommodate an expanding white population.
(5.) 1845—Democrats proclaim Manifest Destiny as their belief that Americans have been divinely inspired to rule the North American Continent from sea to sea.
(6.) 1861—Civil war begins when Confederate troops fire on Fort Sumter.
(7.) 1863—Lincoln signs the Emancipation Proclamation.
(8.) 1920—The Twentieth Amendment giving women the right to vote is ratified.
(9.) 1941—Congress declares war against the “Axis Powers”: Germany, Italy and Japan.
(10.) 1964—The 1964 Civil Rights Bill granting to all people equal access to public places and activities becomes law.
I evaluate events 2, 4, 5, and 6 as instances of our strength rather than of our power. It was our superiority in economic development, might of arms and numbers of people that enabled us to: degrade and enslave blacks; conquer and destroy Indian society and culture; defeat the Mexicans thus imposing upon them our “manifest destiny”; and finally to go to war with one another over the right of the southern states to secede from the union. These, it seems to me, are the acts of the shameless rather than acts of the powerful.
Events 1, 3, 7, 8, 9, and 10, I suggest, are examples of our power rather than of our strength alone. Now there is no debate as to the value either of a strong free enterprise economy or a strong military defense. We could not have: won independence from Great Britain; insured liberty to ourselves and to our posterity; upheld Mr. Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation (as morally and even legally weak as it was); defended ourselves against foreign attack during two world wars; or insured the civil rights of women and minorities without either a flourishing economy or a sufficient military or law enforcement capacity. But these six latter historic events are examples of our power rather than merely of our strength for three overriding reasons. They are inclusive of people’s aspirations and rights. They have established an expectation that those aspirations will be supported, sustained and expanded to the maximum benefit of all. Finally, the forces behind these events were performed on behalf of our moral values rather than merely on our practical and material needs.
In their support of President Bush’s re-election last November, American voters, it would seem, endorsed our current policy in Iraq. The question therefore is: Were we powerful or shameless by that vote?
Respectfully Submitted,
Edwin Cooney
Friday, April 20, 2007
A FRIEND? INDEED!
Originally written JUNE 22ND, 2005
BY EDWIN COONEY
It was fascinating to contemplate a couple of weeks ago when Prime Minister Blair of Great Britain visited Washington, as to how close he and President Bush really are. It isn’t easy for many to believe that the erudite Tony Blair and the shy George Bush could really be as tight personally as they seem to be politically. Believing as I do that the human dynamic has a lot to do with how effectively human events are handled, I’m certain that personal relationships among our leaders matter more than is often apparent.
The 1979 Middle East peace agreement might have been impossible had not Mr. Sadat and Mr. Begin trusted Jimmy Carter as an objective broker. Nixon and Brezhnev apparently spent much of their time together taking one another’s measure, thus real friendship between them was quite unlikely. But both being of a rather suspicious nature, realism probably mattered more than friendship during the days of detentes. F.D.R. and Churchill’s friendship was cordial, but more so on Winston’s side. In recent years scholars have uncovered information that it took F.D.R. a bit of time to warm up to Churchill. In 1918, while on a trip to Britain and Europe as Assistant Secretary of the Navy, young Roosevelt had attempted to be friendly with Britain’s Minister of munitions, but Mr. Churchill apparently snubbed him. But, the emergency brought on by war brought out the best in their genial natures and they thus formed an alliance that is surely the cornerstone of Mr. Blair’s and Mr. Bush’s understanding today.
One of Mr. Churchill’s friendships is most fascinating to contemplate on this June 22nd. Sixty-four years ago today, Prime Minister Churchill, in a world broadcast from the B.B.C., announced Germany’s invasion of Russia. In his firm, bulldog baritone growl, after calling Hitler a “bloodthirsty guttersnipe", he told the British Empire and the rest of the world that despite all of the bad things he had said about Communism, and which he would not now “unsay,” Britain would go to the aid of Soviet Russia. Then he said most firmly: “…Any man or state who fights against Nazism will haveour aid. Any man or state who marches with Hitler is our foe…”
Well maybe, but perhaps not really!
What Mr. Churchill didn’t announce to the Empire and to the world was that a friend of his that day had become a foe: the Soviet Union was also invaded that day by Finland. Carl Gustaf Emil von Mannerheim was Finland’s most courageous and skillful Defense Minister and military strategist. He and Churchill had much in common, especially friendship. Both were aristocrats. Both had been rejected by their fellow countrymen when they wanted desperately to serve during a time of national crisis. Largely due to von Mannerheim’s skill and patriotism, Finland had valiantly fought to a stalemate the vastly superior invading Soviet army in the Russo-Finnish war of 1939-40. Churchill had paid a most eloquent tribute to the Finns in a November 1939 broadcast. Asserting that the service Finland was rendering to mankind was “magnificent,” he went on to say that Finland had exposed for all the world to see the military incapacity of the Red Army and the Red Air Force. “…Many illusions about Soviet Russia have been dispelled in these few fierce weeks of fighting in the Arctic circle,” said Churchill. “Everyone can see how Communism rots the soul of a nation. How it makes it abject and hungry in peace and leaves it base and abominable in war.”
Winston Churchill’s admiration for Finland no doubt had much to do with his high regard for Carl von Mannerheim. He had visited Churchill during the 1920s when both were out of power. No doubt they shared many experiences, kindred interests and viewpoints. But now, on this June 22nd 1941, Carl von Mannerheim had, along with Hitler, invaded Russia. So highly did the German government regard Winston Churchill’s friend Carl von Mannerheim, that Adolph Hitler, who seldom left German territory, visited Finland to celebrate the great Finn’s 75th birthday on June 4th, 1942. A few weeks later, although the aristocratic von Mannerheim had little personal regard for the “low born Hitler,” he repaid Hitler’s June visit with one to East Prussia. But that was it. There would be no concentration camps in Finland. Carl von Manerheim was a patriot, not a Nazi, and Churchill, no doubt, understood the difference. After all, von Mannerheim had fought Russia during the time of the Stalin-Hitler non-aggression pact. Surely it pained Winston Churchill, a loyal and sentimental man, that June 22nd when officially his friend became a foe.
Did it matter ultimately that they were friends? Decide for yourself.
Elected president of Finland in 1944, the practical von Mannerheim made peace with Russia and broke with Hitler. No British or Russian troops would cross Finnish borders while von Mannerheim was that nation’s president. Age, ill health, and a desire to live the good life in Switzerland, not allied retribution, were the reasons von Mannerheim left office in 1946. Out of office together once more, no doubt Winston Churchill and Carl von Mannerheim raised their glasses together once again.
Can the well being of a people be affected by its leader’s personal relationship with another leader? I think so! Is there any doubt that President Bush’s animosity toward Saddam Hussein has had an effect on our well being? Come to think of it, what may matter most is not how our national leaders feelabout one another. What may be most significant to our fate is WHY they think as they do.
Respectfully Submitted,
Edwin Cooney
BY EDWIN COONEY
It was fascinating to contemplate a couple of weeks ago when Prime Minister Blair of Great Britain visited Washington, as to how close he and President Bush really are. It isn’t easy for many to believe that the erudite Tony Blair and the shy George Bush could really be as tight personally as they seem to be politically. Believing as I do that the human dynamic has a lot to do with how effectively human events are handled, I’m certain that personal relationships among our leaders matter more than is often apparent.
The 1979 Middle East peace agreement might have been impossible had not Mr. Sadat and Mr. Begin trusted Jimmy Carter as an objective broker. Nixon and Brezhnev apparently spent much of their time together taking one another’s measure, thus real friendship between them was quite unlikely. But both being of a rather suspicious nature, realism probably mattered more than friendship during the days of detentes. F.D.R. and Churchill’s friendship was cordial, but more so on Winston’s side. In recent years scholars have uncovered information that it took F.D.R. a bit of time to warm up to Churchill. In 1918, while on a trip to Britain and Europe as Assistant Secretary of the Navy, young Roosevelt had attempted to be friendly with Britain’s Minister of munitions, but Mr. Churchill apparently snubbed him. But, the emergency brought on by war brought out the best in their genial natures and they thus formed an alliance that is surely the cornerstone of Mr. Blair’s and Mr. Bush’s understanding today.
One of Mr. Churchill’s friendships is most fascinating to contemplate on this June 22nd. Sixty-four years ago today, Prime Minister Churchill, in a world broadcast from the B.B.C., announced Germany’s invasion of Russia. In his firm, bulldog baritone growl, after calling Hitler a “bloodthirsty guttersnipe", he told the British Empire and the rest of the world that despite all of the bad things he had said about Communism, and which he would not now “unsay,” Britain would go to the aid of Soviet Russia. Then he said most firmly: “…Any man or state who fights against Nazism will haveour aid. Any man or state who marches with Hitler is our foe…”
Well maybe, but perhaps not really!
What Mr. Churchill didn’t announce to the Empire and to the world was that a friend of his that day had become a foe: the Soviet Union was also invaded that day by Finland. Carl Gustaf Emil von Mannerheim was Finland’s most courageous and skillful Defense Minister and military strategist. He and Churchill had much in common, especially friendship. Both were aristocrats. Both had been rejected by their fellow countrymen when they wanted desperately to serve during a time of national crisis. Largely due to von Mannerheim’s skill and patriotism, Finland had valiantly fought to a stalemate the vastly superior invading Soviet army in the Russo-Finnish war of 1939-40. Churchill had paid a most eloquent tribute to the Finns in a November 1939 broadcast. Asserting that the service Finland was rendering to mankind was “magnificent,” he went on to say that Finland had exposed for all the world to see the military incapacity of the Red Army and the Red Air Force. “…Many illusions about Soviet Russia have been dispelled in these few fierce weeks of fighting in the Arctic circle,” said Churchill. “Everyone can see how Communism rots the soul of a nation. How it makes it abject and hungry in peace and leaves it base and abominable in war.”
Winston Churchill’s admiration for Finland no doubt had much to do with his high regard for Carl von Mannerheim. He had visited Churchill during the 1920s when both were out of power. No doubt they shared many experiences, kindred interests and viewpoints. But now, on this June 22nd 1941, Carl von Mannerheim had, along with Hitler, invaded Russia. So highly did the German government regard Winston Churchill’s friend Carl von Mannerheim, that Adolph Hitler, who seldom left German territory, visited Finland to celebrate the great Finn’s 75th birthday on June 4th, 1942. A few weeks later, although the aristocratic von Mannerheim had little personal regard for the “low born Hitler,” he repaid Hitler’s June visit with one to East Prussia. But that was it. There would be no concentration camps in Finland. Carl von Manerheim was a patriot, not a Nazi, and Churchill, no doubt, understood the difference. After all, von Mannerheim had fought Russia during the time of the Stalin-Hitler non-aggression pact. Surely it pained Winston Churchill, a loyal and sentimental man, that June 22nd when officially his friend became a foe.
Did it matter ultimately that they were friends? Decide for yourself.
Elected president of Finland in 1944, the practical von Mannerheim made peace with Russia and broke with Hitler. No British or Russian troops would cross Finnish borders while von Mannerheim was that nation’s president. Age, ill health, and a desire to live the good life in Switzerland, not allied retribution, were the reasons von Mannerheim left office in 1946. Out of office together once more, no doubt Winston Churchill and Carl von Mannerheim raised their glasses together once again.
Can the well being of a people be affected by its leader’s personal relationship with another leader? I think so! Is there any doubt that President Bush’s animosity toward Saddam Hussein has had an effect on our well being? Come to think of it, what may matter most is not how our national leaders feelabout one another. What may be most significant to our fate is WHY they think as they do.
Respectfully Submitted,
Edwin Cooney
Monday, April 2, 2007
IT'S THE STRUGGLE, NOT THE CAUSE!
FRIDAY MARCH 30TH, 2007
BY EDWIN COONEY
I usually understand and can explain what and why something matters to me. What sometimes befuddles me is what and why something matters to somebody else. What’s GRABBING me at present is why the Confederate Flag is so important to SO MANY folks.
A couple of weeks ago “The Sons of Confederate Veterans,” based in Florida, made a public issue of their unhappiness over an art display at the Tallahassee, Florida Mary Brogan Center of Art and Science entitled “The Proper Way to Hang a Confederate Flag.” The display, designed by black artist John Simms, shows a Confederate Flag hanging by a noose from a 13 foot gallows.
Art isn’t always easy to interpret. However, a gentleman by the name of Robert Hurst of the “Sons of Confederate Veterans” has no trouble interpreting Mr. Simms’ art. In fact, Hurst doesn’t consider Simms’ display to be art at all. To Mr. Hurst, John Simms’ display is tasteless as well as offensive.
In addition, Mr. Hurst said that he is considering a law suit against the Mary Brogan Center for Art and Science because they insist on displaying something that amounts to desecration of the Confederate flag.
Now, there is a statute on the books in Florida which outlaws abuse of the Confederate flag, however, the U.S. Supreme Court has rather consistently overruled laws protecting “Old Glory,” everyone’s flag, from desecration. Therefore, it seems unlikely that the good Justices in Washington, D. C. would look with much favor on laws which protect the flag of Robert E. Lee and Jefferson Davis! However, one never can tell.
What I have found most difficult to fathom is why so many people who insist that “Old Glory” is sacred seek to pledge their allegiance to a flag of a foreign entity which, after all, is exactly what the Confederate States of America really and truly sought and fought to become.
It should be noted that while the original Confederate Flag (The Stars and Bars) was adopted at the first session of the Confederate Congress meeting in Montgomery, Alabama in 1861, that flag would never be universally recognized as the official symbol of the Confederate states of America. As time went on, there would be a total of three flags adopted by the Confederate Congress. They were:
The Stars and Bars which resembled Old Glory in shape and design; The Stainless Banner which incorporated the Saltier or St. Andrews Cross along with thirteen white stars — and, because it was twice as long as it was wide, didn’t fly gracefully; and a modified version of The Stainless Banner which featured a red stripe to distinguish it from what appeared from a distance to be a surrender flag: This last flag was approved in March of 1865 and is what most people think of when they see the Confederate Flag. Furthermore, it was this flag that was recently featured atop The General Lee, the car of television’s The Dukes of Hazard.
Additionally, there also were the General P. G. T. Beauregard Battle flag--square in shape also featuring St. Andrew’s cross--as well as the Bonnie Blue Flag and the Naval Jack along with a host of state flags.
However, the number of Confederate flags in existence and which one of them was the official flag is quite beside the point as far as this observer is concerned. What both puzzles and fascinates me is how some of the same people who consider the American flag, our national symbol of freedom and justice for all, to be sacred can become almost apoplectic at what they consider to be abuse of it by some political movement. Yet these same people can be equally passionate about a symbol of oppression, insurrection and treason—which is exactly what the flags or flag of the Confederate States of America were.
Many blacks, although by no means all, have another take on the flags of the Confederate States of America. They consider all Confederate flags to be flags of racism. A local talk show host where I live, a black comedian and writer named Brian Copeland, made that exact point during an hour long talk show on a recent Sunday morning. Although I found his argument pretty compelling, there may be another aspect of this whole thing that all of us who feel as we do understandably miss.
One of the unique aspects of American history, as many historians and commentators have pointed out, is that the United States was the first nation ever born with a birth certificate: The Declaration of Independence. Our struggle for independence made us not merely REBELS, but something very special in addition--UNDERDOGS.
Here we were, a population of three million, largely agricultural, and in comparison with Western Europe, not only unsophisticated, but uncivilized. Unlike our British and European forbears we didn’t even stand up and fight under the banner of loud colors, drums and bugles. We slipped, like Indians, behind houses and trees. George Washington forced General Howe’s forces to chase him all across New Jersey once he abandoned New York City rather than fighting in the open like a traditional European Duke. After seven years of exhaustion, heavily favored Britannia was defeated by the American “UNDERDOG”-with some strategic assistance from France.
Thus America, now on her way to “Superstardom,” gave birth to a new American folk hero—THE UNDERDOG! We all love him, especially when inspired by him. What is more, southern rebels weren’t the first to identify with him. The poor, of course, were the first.
Only five years after the British surrendered at Yorktown, Daniel Shays led a group of poor farmers in their struggle to preserve their property from heavy taxation which was actually being encouraged by well to do bankers and landlords. Though Shays Rebellion would drive Dan Shays himself into temporary exile in Vermont, the rebellion rang the wake up bell that brought George Washington out of retirement to encourage the formation of a strong central and stable government. That time THE UNDERDOG had only to bark loud enough and he was heard!
Then again in 1794 the poor of western Pennsylvania rose up against wealthy land speculating capitalists like George Washington and Alexander Hamilton when the federal government sought to tax all the profit out of their corn liquor. The poor western Pennsylvanians felt that the federal government wasn’t adequately protecting them from British inspired Indian raids, while at the same time, it was attempting to steal their money and ultimately their land. So, they rebelled.
President George Washington himself rode at the head of the government’s army as far as Harrisburg from which point the troops passed over the Alleghenies. Eventually the poor farmers surrendered and President Washington pardoned two of the leaders sentenced to be hanged because one was supposedly insane while the other was a simpleton. Still, THE UNDERDOG had struck again!
Twenty years later, it was another group’s turn to think insurrectionist thoughts. It was in 1814, the year in which British forces invaded Washington D.C. burning the White House and the Capitol Building, that certain New England bankers, merchants and shippers called the Hartford Convention into session to consider making a separate peace with Great Britain and perhaps seceding from the Union—despite their current prosperity. That convention met from December fifteenth 1814 to January fourth 1815. Fortunately, cooler heads prevailed and there was no call for secession. However, the precedent for appealing to “states’ rights” when unhappy with the federal government was continued by the granddads and fathers of those who would take the field forty-seven years later to preserve the union against an especially fierce and determined UNDERDOG who howled and snarled with a southern drawl!.
As for the Civil War itself, by its close it was considered by many to have been “a rich man’s war and a poor man’s fight!” Keep in mind that in a part of the country that had a total population of nearly nine million of which 3.8 million were slaves, there were about 385,000 slave holders. While these slave owners controlled the politics and policies of the south, it’s my guess that it was the sense of identification with their home states and communities that brought the boys in gray to the battlefield. Since the years of war were probably the only time a boy from Georgia would wander much farther than fifteen miles beyond his parents’ farm, one can readily see how important the adventure of war was to the average country boy as opposed to the outcome.
Thus, the Civil War was the country boy’s “daring do,” against the northern industrialist and the endless stream of European immigrants brought to the field to overwhelm “JOHNNY REB.” I believe that it’s that struggle over mechanized odds that lies at the root of that pride in the Confederate flag which lingers to this very day.
The life of all UNDERDOGS is a strange one. It’s a life that’s adventurous and heroic, often short and tragic,
But because no UNDERDOG can ever win and remain himself, he takes pride in the very outcome and even shuns total victory, actually preferring to win battles and “to hell with the war!”
With victory comes care, worry and responsibility and the loss of status as an UNDERDOG. Thus, in a nutshell, you have the South!
Perhaps therein lays a challenge for the American black man and woman. There can of course never be any pride in having been captured, abused beyond endurance, enslaved, beaten, raped, and sold at whim—but there can be pride in how individuals coped with that “hellish tyranny!” Perhaps a little dramatization of how the spirit of the American black prevailed as opposed to stories about their obvious and real victimization might enable blacks to realize a powerful level of “soul pride,” fully as compelling as anyone’s flag.
As for the old South, it’ll never rise again. Even more than the Brooklyn Dodgers the South is forever an UNDERDOG! As for the descendants of those it captured and brought to American shores in indignity and abuse, they may, with a powerful dose of SOUL PRIDE, rise above and look down on “Old Dixie” shed of their bonds and status as UNDERDOGS!
As for the Confederate Flag itself, in the wake of considerable reflection, I understand it, but I still don’t buy it. Like the old South, as far as I’m concerned you can stick a fork in it—IT’S DONE!
RESPECTFULLY SUBMITTED,
EDWIN COONEY
BY EDWIN COONEY
I usually understand and can explain what and why something matters to me. What sometimes befuddles me is what and why something matters to somebody else. What’s GRABBING me at present is why the Confederate Flag is so important to SO MANY folks.
A couple of weeks ago “The Sons of Confederate Veterans,” based in Florida, made a public issue of their unhappiness over an art display at the Tallahassee, Florida Mary Brogan Center of Art and Science entitled “The Proper Way to Hang a Confederate Flag.” The display, designed by black artist John Simms, shows a Confederate Flag hanging by a noose from a 13 foot gallows.
Art isn’t always easy to interpret. However, a gentleman by the name of Robert Hurst of the “Sons of Confederate Veterans” has no trouble interpreting Mr. Simms’ art. In fact, Hurst doesn’t consider Simms’ display to be art at all. To Mr. Hurst, John Simms’ display is tasteless as well as offensive.
In addition, Mr. Hurst said that he is considering a law suit against the Mary Brogan Center for Art and Science because they insist on displaying something that amounts to desecration of the Confederate flag.
Now, there is a statute on the books in Florida which outlaws abuse of the Confederate flag, however, the U.S. Supreme Court has rather consistently overruled laws protecting “Old Glory,” everyone’s flag, from desecration. Therefore, it seems unlikely that the good Justices in Washington, D. C. would look with much favor on laws which protect the flag of Robert E. Lee and Jefferson Davis! However, one never can tell.
What I have found most difficult to fathom is why so many people who insist that “Old Glory” is sacred seek to pledge their allegiance to a flag of a foreign entity which, after all, is exactly what the Confederate States of America really and truly sought and fought to become.
It should be noted that while the original Confederate Flag (The Stars and Bars) was adopted at the first session of the Confederate Congress meeting in Montgomery, Alabama in 1861, that flag would never be universally recognized as the official symbol of the Confederate states of America. As time went on, there would be a total of three flags adopted by the Confederate Congress. They were:
The Stars and Bars which resembled Old Glory in shape and design; The Stainless Banner which incorporated the Saltier or St. Andrews Cross along with thirteen white stars — and, because it was twice as long as it was wide, didn’t fly gracefully; and a modified version of The Stainless Banner which featured a red stripe to distinguish it from what appeared from a distance to be a surrender flag: This last flag was approved in March of 1865 and is what most people think of when they see the Confederate Flag. Furthermore, it was this flag that was recently featured atop The General Lee, the car of television’s The Dukes of Hazard.
Additionally, there also were the General P. G. T. Beauregard Battle flag--square in shape also featuring St. Andrew’s cross--as well as the Bonnie Blue Flag and the Naval Jack along with a host of state flags.
However, the number of Confederate flags in existence and which one of them was the official flag is quite beside the point as far as this observer is concerned. What both puzzles and fascinates me is how some of the same people who consider the American flag, our national symbol of freedom and justice for all, to be sacred can become almost apoplectic at what they consider to be abuse of it by some political movement. Yet these same people can be equally passionate about a symbol of oppression, insurrection and treason—which is exactly what the flags or flag of the Confederate States of America were.
Many blacks, although by no means all, have another take on the flags of the Confederate States of America. They consider all Confederate flags to be flags of racism. A local talk show host where I live, a black comedian and writer named Brian Copeland, made that exact point during an hour long talk show on a recent Sunday morning. Although I found his argument pretty compelling, there may be another aspect of this whole thing that all of us who feel as we do understandably miss.
One of the unique aspects of American history, as many historians and commentators have pointed out, is that the United States was the first nation ever born with a birth certificate: The Declaration of Independence. Our struggle for independence made us not merely REBELS, but something very special in addition--UNDERDOGS.
Here we were, a population of three million, largely agricultural, and in comparison with Western Europe, not only unsophisticated, but uncivilized. Unlike our British and European forbears we didn’t even stand up and fight under the banner of loud colors, drums and bugles. We slipped, like Indians, behind houses and trees. George Washington forced General Howe’s forces to chase him all across New Jersey once he abandoned New York City rather than fighting in the open like a traditional European Duke. After seven years of exhaustion, heavily favored Britannia was defeated by the American “UNDERDOG”-with some strategic assistance from France.
Thus America, now on her way to “Superstardom,” gave birth to a new American folk hero—THE UNDERDOG! We all love him, especially when inspired by him. What is more, southern rebels weren’t the first to identify with him. The poor, of course, were the first.
Only five years after the British surrendered at Yorktown, Daniel Shays led a group of poor farmers in their struggle to preserve their property from heavy taxation which was actually being encouraged by well to do bankers and landlords. Though Shays Rebellion would drive Dan Shays himself into temporary exile in Vermont, the rebellion rang the wake up bell that brought George Washington out of retirement to encourage the formation of a strong central and stable government. That time THE UNDERDOG had only to bark loud enough and he was heard!
Then again in 1794 the poor of western Pennsylvania rose up against wealthy land speculating capitalists like George Washington and Alexander Hamilton when the federal government sought to tax all the profit out of their corn liquor. The poor western Pennsylvanians felt that the federal government wasn’t adequately protecting them from British inspired Indian raids, while at the same time, it was attempting to steal their money and ultimately their land. So, they rebelled.
President George Washington himself rode at the head of the government’s army as far as Harrisburg from which point the troops passed over the Alleghenies. Eventually the poor farmers surrendered and President Washington pardoned two of the leaders sentenced to be hanged because one was supposedly insane while the other was a simpleton. Still, THE UNDERDOG had struck again!
Twenty years later, it was another group’s turn to think insurrectionist thoughts. It was in 1814, the year in which British forces invaded Washington D.C. burning the White House and the Capitol Building, that certain New England bankers, merchants and shippers called the Hartford Convention into session to consider making a separate peace with Great Britain and perhaps seceding from the Union—despite their current prosperity. That convention met from December fifteenth 1814 to January fourth 1815. Fortunately, cooler heads prevailed and there was no call for secession. However, the precedent for appealing to “states’ rights” when unhappy with the federal government was continued by the granddads and fathers of those who would take the field forty-seven years later to preserve the union against an especially fierce and determined UNDERDOG who howled and snarled with a southern drawl!.
As for the Civil War itself, by its close it was considered by many to have been “a rich man’s war and a poor man’s fight!” Keep in mind that in a part of the country that had a total population of nearly nine million of which 3.8 million were slaves, there were about 385,000 slave holders. While these slave owners controlled the politics and policies of the south, it’s my guess that it was the sense of identification with their home states and communities that brought the boys in gray to the battlefield. Since the years of war were probably the only time a boy from Georgia would wander much farther than fifteen miles beyond his parents’ farm, one can readily see how important the adventure of war was to the average country boy as opposed to the outcome.
Thus, the Civil War was the country boy’s “daring do,” against the northern industrialist and the endless stream of European immigrants brought to the field to overwhelm “JOHNNY REB.” I believe that it’s that struggle over mechanized odds that lies at the root of that pride in the Confederate flag which lingers to this very day.
The life of all UNDERDOGS is a strange one. It’s a life that’s adventurous and heroic, often short and tragic,
But because no UNDERDOG can ever win and remain himself, he takes pride in the very outcome and even shuns total victory, actually preferring to win battles and “to hell with the war!”
With victory comes care, worry and responsibility and the loss of status as an UNDERDOG. Thus, in a nutshell, you have the South!
Perhaps therein lays a challenge for the American black man and woman. There can of course never be any pride in having been captured, abused beyond endurance, enslaved, beaten, raped, and sold at whim—but there can be pride in how individuals coped with that “hellish tyranny!” Perhaps a little dramatization of how the spirit of the American black prevailed as opposed to stories about their obvious and real victimization might enable blacks to realize a powerful level of “soul pride,” fully as compelling as anyone’s flag.
As for the old South, it’ll never rise again. Even more than the Brooklyn Dodgers the South is forever an UNDERDOG! As for the descendants of those it captured and brought to American shores in indignity and abuse, they may, with a powerful dose of SOUL PRIDE, rise above and look down on “Old Dixie” shed of their bonds and status as UNDERDOGS!
As for the Confederate Flag itself, in the wake of considerable reflection, I understand it, but I still don’t buy it. Like the old South, as far as I’m concerned you can stick a fork in it—IT’S DONE!
RESPECTFULLY SUBMITTED,
EDWIN COONEY
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