By Dan McLaughlin
Monday,
January 08, 2024
The
latest controversy over remarks made by Donald Trump arises from this: “The
Civil War was so fascinating, so horrible. So many mistakes were made. See,
there was something I think could have been negotiated, to be honest with you.
I think you could have negotiated that. All the people died, so many people
died. You know, that was the disaster.” Trump has been wading back into the
topic of the Civil War of late, apparently in response to Nikki Haley’s stumbling over the question of its causes.
There’s
a temptation to get into an ideological debate over what Trump meant, as
illustrated by this piece from Marianne LeVine in the Washington
Post. For that matter, a debate erupted in 2017 between John Kelly, then
Trump’s chief of staff, and Virginia senator Tim Kaine, Hillary Clinton’s
former running mate, when Kelly argued that “the lack of an ability to
compromise led to the Civil War” and Kaine responded, “The Civil War wasn’t
because of a lack of compromise. The Civil War was because of an immoral
compromise.”
There
is, in fact, an extensive and multifaceted historical debate going back all the
way to the 1860s over whether the Civil War was avoidable, when (if it was
avoidable) it turned the corner to being inevitable, and whether the good that
came out of the war — chiefly the end of slavery and the immediate emancipation
of nearly 4 million slaves — could have been accomplished without war.
Certainly, a great many people (including Abraham Lincoln, William Seward,
Jefferson Davis, John Crittenden, Stephen Douglas, James Buchanan, and the four
then-living ex-presidents) made sincere efforts in 1860–61 to negotiate
something that would have headed off secession and war — even to the point of
contemplating a constitutional amendment guaranteeing the right to own slaves
in the states where it was already legal.
It
is also clear that the whole decade-plus period from the Mexican War to the
Civil War was characterized by a breakdown in all of the mechanisms by which
Americans are supposed to use peaceable means to resolve conflicts short of
war. While the pro-slavery forces were the greater offenders in that regard,
there was enough fault to go around in all factions. Had it been possible to
avoid war, the time to do so was probably before one or more of the watershed
events — John Brown’s 1859 raid, the 1858 Lecompton constitution fight, the
1857 Dred Scott decision, the 1856 assault on Charles Sumner,
the 1854 Kansas–Nebraska Act, or perhaps the Mexican War itself.
Every
war is both a crime and a tragedy, and the question for historians is whether
the crime is by one side or both. For generations, the standard American
history taught in schools treated the war mainly as a tragedy of “brother
against brother” and emphasized the virtue of post-war reconciliation. Ken
Burns’s 1990 Civil War miniseries, which by no means
underplayed the reality of slavery, was nonetheless saturated in this spirit of
regret for a war that killed three-quarters of a million people — most of them
raised as Americans and professing to believe in the same American values. Much
of the tolerance for honoring the Confederacy and its “heroes” arose from the
laudable instinct to reconcile the country and avoid the kind of enduring
bitterness that has characterized never-ending conflicts throughout the Eastern
Hemisphere. Mercy and forgiveness are, by themselves, good things, after all.
That narrative has been largely overturned in the past three decades by a more
intensive focus on the fundamental justice of exterminating slavery, and by the
concern that the reconciliation of white Southerners with the rest of the
country was accomplished in good part at the expense of black Southerners. So,
there’s a natural tendency to project onto Trump’s remarks some of the
ideological freight of that debate.
Maybe
that’s part of his thinking; as I’ve often noted, there is hardly anything less
productive than debating the state of mind of Donald Trump. But the Occam’s
razor answer is that Trump thinks the causes of the Civil War were negotiable
because he thinks everything is always negotiable.
It’s why he still claims he could get Vladimir Putin in a room and settle the
war in Ukraine in an afternoon. He spent his whole adult life negotiating deals
and made it his personal ethos. Everything he says is animated by his effort to
strengthen his bargaining position (or at least, he thinks it is). Trump’s
disinterest in truth and falsity, his demands for loyalty as a one-way street,
his disdain for rules, laws, and institutional norms, his instinct for people’s
weaknesses and pressure points — these are all symptoms of his tendency to look
at everything through the lens of bargaining. Even history itself.
No comments:
Post a Comment