By Kevin D. Williamson
Friday, June 16, 2017
After the attempted assassination of House Republican
whip Steve Scalise by a Democratic activist and Bernie Sanders supporter, a
peculiar turn of phrase began to be repeated: “The cold civil war is heating
up.”
There are those who dream of a new civil war, or at least
of an approximation of the political events prior to it. Some left-wing Californians
and right-wing Texans dream of secession, while others fantasize about an open
armed conflict, a pitched battle and a cleansing fire out of which a new
America could be born, its impurities burnt away.
But you cannot make a new America out of old Americans,
for the same reason that you cannot build a new car out of old parts. Likewise,
“no man putteth new wine into old bottles; else the new wine will burst the
bottles, and be spilled, and the bottles shall perish. But new wine must be put
into new bottles; and both are preserved. No man also having drunk old wine
straightway desireth new: for he saith, The old is better.”
“The old is better” may be a convenient caricature of
conservative thinking, but it is not one without some basis. “To be conservative,”
Michael Oakeshott wrote, “is to prefer the familiar to the unknown, to prefer
the tried to the untried, fact to mystery, the actual to the possible, the
limited to the unbounded, the near to the distant, the sufficient to the
superabundant, the convenient to the perfect, present laughter to utopian
bliss.”
You can keep your New America. I’m happy enough with the
one we’ve got, and think we ought to do a little bit more to take care of it.
This is a dangerous moment in our history, about which we
ought to be honest. President Donald Trump is an irresponsible demagogue who
ought never have been elected to the office he holds — but he was, legitimately, fair and square, your
favorite Muscovite conspiracy theory notwithstanding. That being said, the
actual immediate problem of political violence in the United States is
overwhelmingly and particularly a problem belonging to the Left. This is not a
“both sides do it” issue: Paul Krugman can speak on any college campus in this
country without enduring mob violence and organized terrorism — Charles Murray
cannot. There is not anything on the right like the mass terrorism behind the
Seattle riots of 1999 or the black-bloc riots of the day before yesterday. The
Democratic party, progressive organizations, and college administrations have
some serious political and intellectual housekeeping to do here — but, instead,
they are in the main refusing to acknowledge that they have a problem. The line
between “Punch a Nazi!” and “Assassinate a Republican congressman!” is morally
perforated.
If we follow the course we are on, we will see more
unhappiness, more violence, more repressive national-security policies, less
prosperity, less freedom, and less of anything that looks like the
quite-good-enough America we already have.
Some elements of the Right are nearly as hysterical.
(Some are more hysterical, though my impression is that those are mainly
insincere radio and television entertainers.) On Thursday afternoon, a caller
to an AM radio station in Dallas made what is by now a familiar, illiterate,
and terrifying argument: that those who oppose President Trump are working to
undermine the president, and, therefore, to undermine the country, and that
they ought to be arrested as “subversives” or “traitors.” The identification of
the president with the nation itself is a particularly poisonous and idiotic
form of power-worship, one that was a fairly
common feature of progressive discourse when it was Barack Obama being
“undermined.” But the president is not the country, and opposing the president
— irrespective of his party or his agenda — is not treason. It is politics.
Oddly, Americans often comported themselves with greater
honor — with greater grace — during
an episode of actual treason: “Treason against the United States shall consist
only in levying war against them, or in adhering to their enemies, giving them
aid and comfort,” as the Constitution puts it, and General John Brown Gordon,
as a Confederate officer, levied war against the United States with some
enthusiasm. (“John Brown” must have been an awkward name for a Confederate
general to bear.) To General Gordon fell the duty of leading the Army of
Northern Virginia’s surrender at Appomattox Court House. The victorious Union
general, Joshua Chamberlain, made a famous gesture at that most delicate of
moments, having his troops salute Gordon and his defeated men. As Gordon told
the story: “One of the knightliest soldiers of the federal army, General Joshua
L. Chamberlain of Maine, called his troops into line, and as my men marched in
front of them, the veterans in blue gave a soldierly salute to those vanquished
heroes — a token of respect from Americans to Americans.” Chamberlain, who had
been a professor of rhetoric at Bowdoin, told the story with some literary
flair: “Gordon at the head of the column, riding with heavy spirit and downcast
face, catches the sound of shifting arms, looks up, and, taking the meaning,
wheels superbly, making with himself and his horse one uplifted figure, with
profound salutation as he drops the point of his sword to the boot toe; then
facing to his own command, gives word for his successive brigades to pass us
with the same position of the manual — honor answering honor.”
At that moment, with battles still being fought and blood
being shed around the divided nation — in a war in which 620,000 Americans
would die — we began to honor Abraham Lincoln’s imperative: “We are not
enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies.”
So, the election didn’t go your way. That means America
is finished, defeated, corrupted beyond redemption? Grow up. Nobody said being
free would be easy. We, all of us, have work to do — childish fantasies and
childish temper tantrums aren’t getting it done. The next time you feel
yourself tempted to call one of your fellow Americans a “traitor,” you should
give some serious consideration to the infinitely preferable option of keeping
your damned-fool mouth shut.
When she was married to Prince Andrew, Sarah Ferguson
once complained to Prince Philip that she missed her husband, whose military
career obliged him to be away from home for extended periods of times. The
royal consort was unsympathetic: “The Mountbattens managed,” he scoffed. “And
so can you.”
General Chamberlain managed. General Gordon, too. And so
can you.
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