The Ember and the Inferno

There is a bumper-sticker that read as follows:

well-behaved women rarely make history

It's not just political and feminist. It's also right. It's right in both the intended specific sense and in a more general one. The latter, I find, is far more significant. To wit:

well-behaved people rarely change anything

To beat my own drum a bit, the Sons of Liberty didn't have the impact they did by being nice and politely asking the crown to fuck off. No, they did it by being utter bastards about what they wanted and how they meant to get it. The same goes for the whole of the American Revolution – the Declaration of Independence was hardly nice. Patrick Henry didn't move the Virginia House of Burgesses to war by being nice, polite, or courteous. He did it with passion, with rhetoric, and with a raging inferno in his belly when he spoke:

It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace-- but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!

(source)

There are three slightly more modern movements deserving of examination here. Specifically, the abolition movement, the suffragettes, and the civil rights movement. All of them have engraved deeply their respective marks into the bedrock of American history. Moreover, none of them did it by being polite and well-behaved. To quote the legendary Mr. Henry once more, “I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past.“. To those ends, we look to our own past for guidance.

First, the abolitionists. The most obvious and one of the best known acts engaged in was the Underground Railroad. While not violent, the Underground Railroad was an act of active dissent against slavery. It got stuff done. It pissed people off. It certainly polarized opinions, and the knowledge that their neighbors were taking such risks in order to combat slavery likely had some impact on the general opinion towards the subject.

More to the point, abolitionists can and did take quite overt action against slavery. In the wake of the fugitive slave laws, some states passed legislation designed to actively hinder those very laws. Among them was Michigan, which did so by guaranteeing anyone claimed as a fugitive slave rights to a jury trial, writ of habeas corpus, appeal, and bail. Additionally, there were stiff penalties for falsely claiming a someone to be a slave, and purported fugitives could not be held in public jails or other public buildings. (source)

Abolitionists and their opponents were usually in geographically distinct areas, so more direct conflict was usually limited.

Except for Bleeding Kansas and John Brown at Harper's Ferry. I don't care to go into those, but they were far from polite.

Then there was Uncle Tom's Cabin, which had two principle effects. First and foremost, it converted people to the abolitionist cause in the North. It was an immensely popular work, and its core message of the immorality of slavery resonated strongly in a culture that already disapproved of the practice.

Second, it greatly incensed the South. For obvious reasons, the South didn't like Stowe's book. It was generally viewed and propaganda and simply wrong in its portrayal of slavery, nevermind the moral message. To be fair, Stowe was an abolitionist, and certainly had an agenda. This reaction would only lend its message weight in the North. After all, they wouldn't be so angry if it wasn't accurate, right?

Stowe wasn't nice, and she didn't pull her punches. She wasn't out to take a moderate position, and most certainly did not adopt one. Her position was plain: slavery was immoral. The implication was that it should be stopped immediately, and that was quite the extreme position.

Enough about the abolitionists. There's enough history there for me to go on for a very long time, but it isn't wise the keep the suffragettes waiting. They often did not take kindly to such.

In the colonial and immediately post-colonial periods of American history, the women's suffrage movement was a fairly small and insignificant thing. It wasn't until the Reconstruction period that the movement began to intensify, particularly in clashes over the Fifteenth Amendment. The suffragists wanted the amendment to protect the rights of women as well, and as originally written would have done so. It was subsequently changed to remove such provisions, becoming the abolitionist work we now know.

It is notable that several states granted women suffrage well before it was done nationally. Specifically, Utah, Wyoming, Colorado, and New Jersey. In Illinois, in 1913, the suffragists secured for women of that state the right to vote in Presidential election. They did so by directly pressuring the legislature, along with other fairly extreme acts such as fetching House members from their homes when their bill came up for voting.

The suffragists also staged a public protest on March 3, 1913. In Washinton D.C., several thousand suffragists lined up and marched down Pennsylvania Avenue, where a far greater number had lined up to watch. Predictably, the crowd reacted badly, eventually becoming violent. When the local police failed to control the crowd, the cavalry was called in. A number of women were hospitalized.

In the wake of such an event, some might conclude that the women's suffrage movement lacked the support it required to succeed. The suffragists appear to have concluded the opposite: the strong reaction meant that they did indeed have wide support.

Alice Paul lead the formation of the National Women's Party in 1916. They adopted strong and disruptive tactics, such as parades, pickets, demonstrations, and hunger strikes. In January of 1917, they did what no one before had dared: they picketed the White House itself. In July, many picketers were arrested on charges of obstructing traffic and incarcerated at a workhouse.

The promptly went on a hunger strike. They were force-fed with tubes. This news made its way to the media, where public sympathies shifted somewhat in favor of the women. This, combined with continuing demonstrations and the resulting press coverage, led President Wilson to announce support for women's suffrage in January of 1918.

After several failed attempts, Congress passed the Nineteenth Amendment on June 4, 1919. Illinois, Michigan, and Wisconsin all ratified it in six days, on the 10th, while Georgia and Alabama rushed to reject it. It would ratified by thirty-two more states between then and March 22, 1920, when Washington became the 35th state to ratify. It would take until August for Tennessee to follow suit, making the Nineteenth Amendment law.

A bit of an interesting story there, actually. Predictably, with the amendment one state away from ratification, forces for and against ratification rallied to Nashville. After all, it was either the final hurdle or a last stand, depending on ones position.

The first roll call on the subject came up as a 48-48 deadlock, with chaos breaking loose upon the floor when this was announced. Order was eventually restored, and the vote taken again. Once more, a deadlock of 48-48 was the result. Thus, a third vote was in order.

Somewhere along the line, the mother of Harry T. Burn, a young Representative who had been in the anti-suffragist camp, saw fit to send her son a letter. In short, she told him to vote for ratification. His mothers pleas won out over his constituency, and he voted for ratification. Shortly afterwards, two other Representative, one of them the Speaker, also changed their votes to 'aye', yielding ratification.

The women of America had gained the right to vote, even in the Southern states that had rejected the idea. They didn't gain it by being nice, quiet, or polite. They gained the right to vote via demonstration, protest, and eventually, by leveraging personal relationships. To be sure, they were not well-behaved women, and they did indeed make history.

For the sake of brevity (ha!), I'm going to skip the civil rights movement. This post is long enough as is. Before I close, however, some concluding remarks.

As romantic as it is to think that silent desire for some will sway a nation and its laws, both history and reality expose this as a sham. Neither the abolitionists nor the suffragists gained their eventual goals by sitting on their hands and wishing. They worked for what they wanted, knowing that change is only ever effected by those willing to work long, hard, and loudly for it. They knew that a smoldering ember gives little heat, little light, little smoke, and will escape the notice of most.

So they became the raging inferno, and illumined their world.

Death of an Icon

Well, it appears that as of May 15th, Jerry Falwell is dead. An evangelist during his life, Jerry is perhaps most known for the political controversy which he was able to stir up around him. He was outspoken on a great many issues of the day, whichever day he happened to be speaking about. From segregation to abortion and gay rights, Israel to 9/11, he was not one to be shy about offering his views. With the backing of his ministry, in the name of the Lord, he attracted an audience of believers and detracters, and polarized the political debate. His death has already renewed debate about the positions he held in life; I will not belabor this place with more of the same. Others, with far more historically oriented minds than mine, will surely be able to do a better job of deciding what his legacy will be. So I will take a different niche; what legacy should we be taking from his ministry?

On pretty much every position he's taken, it's probably fair to say that Falwell was sitting at something of an extreme. Actually, forget "something of," the man was out there. So far out there, in fact, that there were really only two things that could possibly come of it: Exposure of issues and polarization. Both are in some sense necessary for any good political discourse, but neither is all that useful for actually bringing about a resolution. He is, in a way, the antithesis of a great many modern civil rights movements, embodying many of the same features that have led me to conclude that, although I'm all for civil rights, I'm very much against most civil rights movements.

What too many people in modern politics tend to forget is that polarization isn't the end of the battle. You can't have a conversation unless you manage to get people on opposing sides of the issue, but you can't reach a conclusion until you start finding some common ground on which to bring people back together. Our political structures and political people have gotten extremely good at the former, but virtually nobody of consequence is willing to take the effort to follow through on the latter. Of course, it's not as glamorous as splitting the public, and it usually won't make the people who do it famous within their lifetime. But then, as I read on a billboard on one my recent travels, "Life is short, eternety isn't." The trouble with Falwell, and those of his sort, is that they're so interested in life, that they end up forgetting abot eternety -- occasionally quite ironically.

These days, where we can probably see this best is in the battles across the several states to figure out how to define marriage. It should come as no surprise to anyone that Falwell didn't much like homosexuality; he's even gone so far as to blame the practice as being one of the contributing factors in 9/11. But leaving that aside for now, we can make some general observations about homosexual life -- marriage is a big deal, but civil unions won't quite do. On the flip side, however, people are far more willing to accept civil unions than marriage. But being forced to choose marriage or nothing, the trend has been very much a push toward nothingness, with many more states amending their constitutions to prevent any coupling than passing laws to provide even minimal rights of union. This is good politics, majority choice under the rule of law, people exercising the legislative or referential systems to codify their views, and to protect themselves from what they feel may be credible threats. But it's a loss for homosexual advocacy as they fail not only to win what they most desire, but actually lose ground in trying to get there. At a time when more people than ever are willing to accept at least limited equality, it should be stunning that society is actually progressing in the opposite direction.

It is, though, that all or nothing attitude that individuals like Falwell embody perfectly. One can hope, and I think we should, that with his passing, a new dialogue may develop. A dialogue built not on polarization, but unification. A conversation willing to accept the civil unions and forego marriage, at least in the near term, rather than losing everything all at once. For that kind of dialogue is a constructive one, not to mention completely necessary.

I'm sure that what we'll end up seeing are conservatives mourning his loss and liberals celebrating his demise. I hope we don't, for there's nothing to gain from it, but I'm sure we will. That, to be sure, is the world in which we live.

A Fiery Heritage – Dissent as an American Tradition

It doesn't take long in any political discussion to which I am party for my general opinions on the value of tradition to come out. In short, Tavion and I don't quite see eye to eye. I opine that unless the acts in question are worth doing, or the rituals worth enacting, on their own merits, then claiming that it is traditional should not make it worth time and effort. Traditions, I hold, are things to be created or cast aside on the basis of whether or not they're actually useful or beneficial. Tradition is often an excuse for something cruel, stupid, or wasteful.

This is not always the case, obviously. Some traditions are worth hanging on to. One of my favorites is an old American tradition: dissent.

Not just random dissent. Political dissent, coupled with significant action, and lasting changes.

The Puritans are an obvious starting point. They were religious dissidents from England. Unfortunately, they fled one form of religious oppression simply to enforce another. While they managed meaningful political dissent, they didn't really learn from it. They turned from dissidents into exactly what they had dissented from. Whoops.

Many years later, in the wake of the Stamp Act, would come a different group. Well, a set of groups, really. They started as the Loyal Nine, a group of shopkeepers and artisans in Boston. They planned, grew, organized, and on August 14, 1765, took to the streets. They hung, beheaded, and eventually burned in effigy the man who was to be commissioned the Distributor of Stamps for Massachusetts, Andrew Oliver. They burned his business property, and both stoned and ransacked his house. The forces of the English kept of the streets of Boston, that night. They were afraid of what the Loyal Nine had become. They were the Sons of Liberty, and they ruled Boston.

Before long, the Sons of Liberty existed in every colony. From there, they began to correspond and organize. Many of their members were printers and publishers, and many who weren't were sympathetic. After all, one of the taxes was on paper, meaning they had to paid high duties. As a result, the activities of the Sons of Liberty were widely publicized, with each dramatic act emboldening others to do the same. They are, doubtless, best known for the Boston Tea Party. I trust I need say no more on that subject.

What became of the Sons of Liberty? Well, as I said, they got organized. Eventually, they were subsumed into the larger Revolution at hand. They had made indelible their mark upon the pages of history.

I'm going to skip the American Revolution itself. Suffice to say, it is without a doubt the single greatest instance of American dissent in history.

The next item is Shays' Rebellion. This was an armed uprising in western Massachusetts, mostly small farmers, in 1786 and 1787. The state of the economy, combined with other factors such as a poll tax and the barter economy that existed in much of western Massachusetts, left these farmers deeply in debt and with little hope of escape. They could not get a fair price selling their land, and if they did not pay, they would find themselves in debtor's prison and their lands seized by the court. As voting rights at the time were tied to land ownership, the aggrieved found themselves deprived of the ability to protest. In essence, they were out and out screwed.

So, as some of them had done years before during the American Revolution, they took up arms. The progress of their rebellion is unimportant, save to say that they really didn't pull it off. More important are the political effects. First, the local militias were effectively paralyzed, in part by sympathy, and in part by the sheer magnitude of the uprising. This made clear the need for some form of standing army. Second, it brought George Washington out of retirement, and convinced him of the need for a strong central government. Shays' Rebellion had a significant impact on the Constitutional Convention, which occurred months after its conclusion. Shortly thereafter, the Militia Law of 1972 was passed. Third, and perhaps best known, Shays' Rebellion prompted Thomas Jefferson to write the following passage:

A little rebellion now and then is a good thing. …God forbid we should ever be twenty years without such a rebellion. The people cannot be all, and always, well informed. The part which is wrong will be discontented, in proportion to the importance of the facts they misconceive. If they remain quiet under such misconceptions, it is lethargy, the forerunner of death to the public liberty. …And what country can preserve its liberties, if its rulers are not warned from time to time, that this people preserve the spirit of resistance? Let them take arms. The remedy is to set them right as to the facts, pardon and pacify them. What signify a few lives lost in a century or two? The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time, with the blood of patriots and tyrants. It is its natural manure.

Certainly, Jefferson's sentiment would have gone over well with those who still remembered the struggle for independence. However, the next event would change everything for political dissidents: the Whiskey Rebellion.

In an effort to pay off debts accumulated from the American Revolution, an excise tax on whiskey was put into place in 1791. One notable aspect of it is that small distillers, such as farmers, had to pay nine cents a gallon. Larger distilleries paid six. Due to the geographic and economic issues involved, this struck directly at a major source of income for many Appalachian farmers. They took to arms, and adopted the tactics of the Sons of Liberty.

They conducted a multi-year campaign of harassment. Eventually, President Washington decided to end things. He exercised Martial Law to call out the militias of Pennsylvania, Virginia, and several other states. After raising a force of about 13,000 thousand men, they went hunting for the rebels.

Either the rebels were too intimidated to act against this army, or the very presence of the army was scary enough to put down the rebellion entirely. After a great deal of effort, a total of twenty men were caught. One died in prison. Two others were convicted of treason, but pardoned by President Washington. The hated tax remained in place until 1803, even if it was largely unenforceable.

The message was clear, though. Armed and violent political dissent was no longer a viable option. The Federal Government could and would put down any such threats with greater force than any rebel group might muster. Thus, relatively peaceful means would be required.

As later history shows, peaceful political dissent would be quite popular. Witness the movements for abolition, women's suffrage, and civil rights. Peaceable assembly and petition would become the mode of choice for dissent, occasional rumblings about violence and instances like Bleeding Kansas aside.

I expect that one or the other of us will blog more on the history of dissent, but not now. For now, it is enough to bask in awe that the vibrant American political life came from such roots. I'm no Tavion, but this is one tradition worth keeping. The tradition of fire in the belly, of impassioned dissent when the government does wrong, is among the greatest and most important of any in this nation. Too many forget.

Sources:

The Sons of Liberty

Wikipedia pages on Shays' Rebellion, Sons of Liberty, and Whiskey Rebellion

Rocket's Red Glare

Note: This is actually something I originally wrote on July 4, 2004. Fortunately, it's not time-sensitive, so a few minor changes, and here it is!

On the fourth of July, Independence Day, we are bid to celebrate our country, and our love for it. In other words, our patriotism. However, this also leads inevitably to an examination of what patriotism is. First, let us start with a strictly academic definition (from dictionary.com):

patriotism

\Pa"tri*ot*ism\, n. [Cf. F. patriotisme.] Love of country; devotion to the welfare of one's country; the virtues and actions of a patriot; the passion which inspires one to serve one's country. --Berkley.

Source: Webster's Revised Unabridged Dictionary, © 1996, 1998 MICRA, Inc.

Now, we must examine what this means. Let's take it bit by bit, breaking it up. The first two definitions are important, the other two less so, building on the first two.

1) Love of country
This is the most common definition. To love the country. Simple, almost overly so. You love America, you are considered by many a patriot. The problem is, love is a personal emotion. As such, it does not scale to an entire nation, and tends to be attached to figureheads. People tend to confuse love of country with support for a given leader. Now, remember this: the leader is not the country. Whoever it happens to be represents the country, but is not the country. Yes, they are in charge. Yes, they are the leader. But the leader is not the led, only the figurehead.
(Note carefully the gender-neutrality)

2) Devotion to the welfare of one’s country
Now, here we have a more important definition. Simply loving ones country is not enough. You have to want what is best for it. Remember that this may not be popular, but right and popular are frequently at odds. However, problems arise when one tries to define what exactly is best for the country. Is going to war good for the country? If it is sufficiently large, it will help the economy. However, what of the families of those lost? Is the war to protect something important, like freedom, or an ally? Or is it a distraction, a PR ploy? Both have been known to happen in the past.

This line of thought raises another important question: what is freedom? Well, I doubt there is a complete answer, but I can try. Freedom is an ideal, a concept, so important that its true believers will go to any length to defend it for the sake of others. Not for themselves, but for others. A person who will fight censorship, not because it affects them, but because it has affected someone, is fighting for freedom. A person who fight discrimination, not because it is hurting them, but because it is hurting someone, is fighting for freedom of a different sort. Sometimes, the defense of freedom even calls for our men and women in uniform to go and defend it by force of arms. It is one thing to strike back when attacked by a clear enemy, or even to strike at a clear and present threat. It is a second thing to defend our allies against the same, as they would defend us. These are good and true. However, it is something altogether different to take away freedoms in the name of protecting them. For example, it is neither good nor true to take away beloved freedoms like speech in the name of protecting the country, like was done long ago with the Sedition Act. Such a travesty has no justification, not in this country.

If someone disagrees with the leadership of this country, it is their right to voice it. If you really know what freedom is, you will, at the least, not stand in their way. Even, perhaps especially, if you disagree with it. To know freedom is to love it, and to love it is to wish to protect it. You, who would perhaps dispute this, are you really disagreeing with the ideas? Or more with the politics that have likely slipped in, despite my attempts to try and keep them out?

It is said that our freedom is defended with four boxes: the ballot box, the jury box, the soap box, and the cartridge box. I am using one right now. In November, I will use another. If I am called to do so, I will use a third. As for the fourth, let me say this: if a foreign army were to invade this country, they would pay for each inch of soil ten times over in blood. And while I may not be one of those exacting the bloodprice, be certain that I would be defending our nation just as much, in my own way. My blood, my pride, and all that I hold dear would demand nothing less.

I am a patriot. No, I do not personally agree with much of what the leadership does, but this does not make me any less of one. I love my country, and I will do all that is within my power to defend those freedoms that I hold dear. It is said that eternal vigilance is the price of liberty, and truer words have rarely, if ever, been spoken.

I am an American, and a patriot. Defy me if you will, but recall my words.

The Chipper Young Man at the Blaze

Kalium has been kind enough to get things started off right with a good introduction and a solid background for what we're doing here. As he's offered up a solid mini-biography for himself, it seems only rational that I should do likewise.

I was born in Dearborn, MI back in 1984 as the only child my parents would ever have. There I lived in my father's first house until I had reached four years of age, when we moved to what is still my home in Livonia. During that time I was introduced to the church, baptized Presbyterian like my father, occasionally visiting Roman Catholic services with my mother. Aside from that, and my mom's love of angel figurines, my parents were seldom overtly religious. Engineers both, they spent their time teaching me to think, rather than just to believe.

As I rose through my first years, I was always a bit different than the other kids, though it took a while for anyone to figure out why. I was blessed to have a preschool teacher who recognized that I had a talent for academics and knew that the Livonia Public Schools had a program for gifted students. I applied and was accepted to a program that would carry me all the way through high school graduation. Upon graduation, I completed an undergraduate engineering program in Computer Science at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. I'm currently up at Michigan State, seeking an MBA.

If one wants to understand my politics, it's sufficient to understand my three basic views. I am an ardent believer in federalism; a vigorous but limited national government, strong state and local governments, and as much power retained by the people and private sector as may be considered reasonable. I'm also a firm believer in the rule of law and the power of persuasion; the laws normally should be what they are until you can get 51% of the people to agree that the law should be something different. And finally, I believe that education is the best gift that can be given to a society and the people living in it.

It often amazes me how similar Kalium and I are, while still often reaching radically different answers about how the world should be. I look forward to seeing how that plays out here. Whether we agree or not, I almost always find the conversations fun.

Portrait of an Inheritor as a Young Man

So, welcome to Inherit the fire. There's a few basic subjects that any decent introductory post should cover. Where the blog came from, why, what the putative subject is, and who the blogger(s) are.

Well, where this blog came from is easy enough. I was reading about "Inherit the Wind", and thinking about this significance of it. It then crossed my mind that "Inherit the Fire" would be a good name for a political blog. While I was chatting with Alpicola over AIM, no less. On top of that, I've been wanting to get into blogging somewhat more serious than LiveJournal, and this seemed like a good opportunity. I've also been wanting to exercise my writing abilities more, and a blog seemed a good way to do so.

I chose fire as a central theme. It works on a number of levels. First, I have a bit of a flare for the dramatic. Second, fire is a potent symbol, and covers many things relevant to politics. Fire, when tamed, represents a creative force, birth, purification, knowledge, illumination, inspiration, wisdom, and power. When untamed, it represents burning passions, destruction, death, torture, danger, and again, power. Fire is one of the oldest and most potent symbols known to man, and it seemed appropriate for one of the oldest activities known to man: politics.

Third, I am a very political person. I have any number of strong opinions, many of which are likely to come out in future posts. My passion for politics comes in large part from my parents, who are also highly political people. When I was old enough to grasp the subjects, they were often quite happy to discuss or argue politics with me, my father in particular. One could say that I inherited a political inclination from them

Fourth, and most humorously, my family has a bit of a pyromaniacal streak in it. According to my aunts, it would appear to include both my father and myself.

I've touched on the subject already, so I might as well introduce myself. I'm Kalium. Aged 21 at the writing of this post. I was born in Borgess Hospital in Kalamazoo, Michigan. I grew up and went to school in Battle Creek, attending Harper Creek High School and the Battle Creek Area Mathematics and Science Center. Upon graduation, I was admitted to the University of Michigan College of Engineering, where I am currently studying Computer Science. So, my specialty, per se, is in computers. That said, I'm a hopeless information junkie, and can be relied on to know at least something about most subjects. I was, am, and probably always will be a shameless and utterly unrepentant geek.

Since it inevitable crops up as a topic, I'll address my religious state as well. My parents are moderately observant Reform Jews. My father's family is all Jewish, of varying levels of piety and widely varying sects. My mother's family is a complicated tangle of Catholics, Luterans, Methodists, and probably several other flavors that I find it impossible to keep track of. As a result, I was raised vaguely as a secular Reform Jew, but with significant exposure to other schools of thought. I've taken a good deal of those lessons to heart, but not the theism. I am, in many ways, an atheist. Specifically, a nontheist, meaning a lack of positive belief in a god.

Now, the purpose of this blog. As I've stated before, it's political (thus, the 'politics' in the description). Alpicola and myself are both very political people. I enjoy discussing politics, and become very passionate about the subject. I tend to flare up when politics is the subject at hand (thus, the 'passion). Well, since I've known him, Alpicola has rapidly become one of my favorite people to face down over an issue. We disagree on a lot of subjects, and this blog will be a good place to exchange political arguments in something approaching a constructive manner (thus, the 'crossfire').

So, welcome to Inherit the Fire. Sit down, grab some marshmallow if you want, or jump in and start playing with fire.