2012-09-15 17:36:30
Just six chapters, the author basically tells stories rather than explaining chronological events. A history professor, Ellis does an excellent job covering some of the key characters of our founding. In the Preface, he says: “ The republican experiment launched so boldly by the revolutionary generation in America encountered entrenched opposition in the two centuries that followed, but it thoroughly vanquished the monarchical dynasties of the nineteenth century and then the totalitarian despotisms of the twentieth, just as Jefferson predicted it would…it seems safe to say that some form of representative government based on the principle of popular sovereignty and some form of market economy fueled by energies of individual citizens have become the common ingredients for national success throughout the world” I note this because it was written prior to 9/11/2001 and I wonder if Ellis would make so bold a statement today—some in the world really don’t like “market economies fueled by energies of individual citizens”—although to be fair, it was a broad statement and he wasn’t engaging in speculation of current global or national politics.
Also early on, he comments on “Whig principles” and how the “arguments used to justify secession from the British Empire also undermined the legitimacy of any national government…For the core argument used to discredit the authority of Parliament and the British Monarchy…was an obsessive suspicion of any centralized political power that operated in faraway places beyond the immediate supervision or surveillance of the citizens it claimed to govern.” Ellis called this legitimacy problem the “central paradox of the revolutionary era” as well as an ongoing dilemma. The opportunities were extraordinary; yet they were overwhelmed by the limited “governing capacities of the only republican institutions sanctioned by the Revolution.” John Adams said, “The lawgivers of antiquity legislated for single cities,” but “who can legislate for 20 or 30 states, each of which is greater than Greece or Rome at those times?” It was “overwhelming.”
Ellis notes that there are “ two long-established ways to tell the story [of the Revolution], both expressions of the political factions and ideological camps of the revolutionary era itself…” (1) It was “a liberation movement” (Jefferson) with its core principle bound in concepts of individual liberty where “any accommodation of personal freedom to governmental discipline” was seen as “dangerous,” which in its “extreme forms” is a “recipe for anarchy…” (2) The alternative perspective of this time in history was collectivist (Hamilton)… that the true spirit of ’76 was the “virtuous surrender of personal, state, and sectional interests to the larger purposes of American nationhood…” which has “both communal and despotic implications.” Ellis correctly suggests that this early historical debate has been the modern debate for our entire history and calls it “humbling” and “dispiriting.” Indeed.
“While we may be able to forestall intellectual embarrassment by claiming that the underlying values at stake are timeless, and the salient questions classical in character,the awkward truth is that we have been chasing our own tails in an apparently endless cycle of partisan pleading.” Again, indeed! We have been oscillating “between new versions of the old tension” ever since, mostly through political discourse (thankfully) with the one violent exception (so far)—The Civil War. Ellis comments further, “Lincoln once said that America was founded on a proposition that was written by Jefferson in 1776. We are really founded on an argument about what that proposition means.” (Emphasis mine)
Chapter 1—The Duel: This is a detailed account of the most famous duel in American history—between Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton on July 11, 1804 (which I won’t rehash). Suffice it to say, that the most compelling questions of the whole affair were: Why did their differences come to such an end? Anger and frustration for Burr; “ambition and insecurity” for Hamilton; “throbbing egos” for both. And “what did it mean?” It meant, “Hamilton became a martyr to the cause of Federalism and Burr became the most despised national leader since Benedict Arnold.” It also meant that there were symbolic “underlying values of the political culture” at stake in addition to the personal feud. Further, it meant the end to the custom of the code duello.
Chapter 2—The Dinner: This chapter is about a private dinner party organized by Jefferson to broker a “political bargain” between Madison and Hamilton with “far-reaching significance: Madison agreed to permit the core provision of Hamilton’s fiscal program to pass; and in return Hamilton agreed to use his influence to assure that the permanent residence of the national capital would be on the Potomac River.” Ellis calls it a “landmark accommodation” although much intrigue ensues with a revisiting of the same arguments: “Hamilton was tone-deaf to the familiar refrains…about the inherent evil of aggregated power” and favored economic development overseen by a “national bank, regulated commerce, and powerful finance ministers.” The Virginians, Madison and Jefferson, were “psychologically incapable of sharing Hamilton’s affinity with men who made their living manipulating interest rates” and it was extremely important to the South that the capital’s location was close at hand so they could keep an eye on things. There was even talk of secession during this period (June 1790) but Jefferson and Madison would not go this route; they would capture the government politically.
Chapter 3—The Silence: Slavery is the subject of this chapter, starting with Quakers petitioning the new government to put an end to the slave trade (which everyone knew also meant slavery itself). The essence of the title is that, in the end, all arguments—and they were legion—ended with, not a consensus view, but a reality nonetheless: that no one really could find a way to “solve” the problem of slavery for fear that the new nation would fall apart over it. In frustration, the talented leaders of our country left it for a later generation but the debate over what the “Revolution meant for the institution of slavery” raged on. “Hindsight permits us to listen to the debate of 1790 with knowledge that none of the participants possessed…that slavery would become the central and defining problem for the next seventy years of American history; that the inability to take decisive action against slavery in the decades immediately following the revolution permitted the size of the enslaved population to grow exponentially and the legal and political institutions of the developing U.S. government to become entwined in compromises with slavery’s persistence; and that eventually over 600,000 Americans would die in the nation’s bloodiest war to resolve the crisis, a trauma generating social shock waves that would reverberate for at least another century.” The liberal values of the Declaration of Independence, “the secular version of American scripture, was an unambiguous tract for abolition.” But it didn’t happen. The Constitution’s “distinguishing feature…when it came to slavery was its evasiveness.” It was neither a defining document for abolition, nor a sanction of the institution, i.e. it was an “exercise in ambiguity” for any resolution would have “rendered ratification of the Constitution virtually impossible.” Thus, it was silently accepted that the subject “not be talked about at all. Slavery was the unmentionable family secret, or the proverbial elephant in the middle of the room” and left for the future.
Chapter 4—The Farewell: The primacy of George Washington in terms of stature, reputation and achievement was self-evident to most Americans, the only possible contender being Benjamin Franklin who died in 1790. When he decided to retire in 1796 due to age, much time was spent on thinking through his legacy and his key message to the nation in the form of his farewell address, which Hamilton helped write. “Washington devoted several paragraphs to national unity. He denounced excessive partisanship, most especially when it took the form of political parties pursuing a vested ideological agenda or sectional interest groups oblivious to the advantages of cooperation.” The balance was about foreign policy, “calling for strict American neutrality and diplomatic independence from the tangled affairs of Europe…unity at home and independence abroad.” Ellis sheds light on Washington’s realism and his immunity from “sentimental attachments or fleeting ideological enthusiasms” and his instinctive mistrust of “visionary schemes dependent on seductive ideals that floated dreamily in men’s minds….” For example, Washington saw excess confidence in France as our “providential allies” in realistic practical terms: “No nation can be trusted farther that it is bound by its interest; and no prudent statesman or politician will venture to depart from it.” There was “enlightened procrastination” in the implied strategy here for it gave the young nation time to grow and organize itself while remaining aloof to the tears and flapdoodle going on in Europe, steering a middle passage between England and France and avoiding war. Washington was not without criticism, for Jefferson and the Republicans saw him as engaged in monarchial activities in betrayal of the revolution; and to be certain, his final advice regarding unity would be ignored. He died on December 14, 1799, and ever the practical man, taking his own pulse as he expired.
Chapter 5—The Collaborators: Adams and Jefferson were the obvious choices to replace Washington in 1796. Adams of course won, inheriting an entangled international scene as well as an ominous domestic one:
1. His VP, Jefferson, was the leader of the opposition party!
2. His cabinet was loyal to Washington’s memory.
3. Political parties were nothing more than ideological camps.
4. “The core conviction of the entire experiment in republican government—namely, that all domestic and foreign policies derived their authority from public opinion—conferred a novel level of influence to the press, which had yet to develop any established rules of conduct or standards for distinguishing rumors from reliable reporting.” (Hmmm…)
“It was a recipe for political chaos… Federalists and Republicans alike were afloat in a sea of mutual accusations and partisan interpretations. The center could not hold because it did not exist.” The issue was as always: federal control or states rights. There was thus a great strain on the deep friendship between Adams and Jefferson. When Jefferson became President, Adams did not attend, taking the stage back to Quincy to be with his wife Abigail, the only one he could trust. Adams and Jefferson did not “exchange another word…for twelve years.”
Chapter 6—The Friendship: Adams fought his internal demons while hard at work on his neglected farm, writing angry essays and letters to purge himself of the injustices against him as he saw them. Abigail was his refuge, a strong lady who thought the world of Jefferson but clearly saw through his duplicity; and said so. It was Benjamin Rush, a long-time confidant of Adams who eventually orchestrated the reconciliation of these two pillars of our founding, taking about two years. It was also under Rush’s prodding that Adams saw the need to clarify his perspective of “history.” To Jefferson, “the Revolution…became one magical moment of inspiration, leading inexorably to the foregone conclusion of American independence.” To Adams, “nothing was clear, inevitable, or even comprehensible…it was patched and piebald policy then, as it is now, ever was, and ever will be, world without end.” In other words, it was messy; and “they were making it up as they went along, improvising on the edge of catastrophe.” Rush was successful; Adams made the first move in a letter on January 12, 1804, filled with light news—the beginning of a remarkable series of correspondence—fourteen years and 158 letters exchanged regarded as “the intellectual capstone to the achievements of the revolutionary generation and the most impressive correspondence between prominent statesmen in all of American history.” Good for us but the author’s point is that the letters also recovered the deep friendship.
One interesting exchange involved “ideology,” a word popularized by Napoleon: “As Adams explained it, the French philosophers had invented the word, which became a central part of their utopian style of thinking and the major tenet in their ‘school of folly.’ It referred to a set of ideals and hopes, like human perfection or social equality, which philosophers mistakenly believed could be implemented in the world because it existed in their heads. Jefferson himself thought in this French fashion, Adams claimed, confusing the seductive prospects envisioned in his imagination with the more limited possibilities history permitted. Critics of Jefferson’s visionary projections, like Adams, were then accused of rejecting the ideals themselves, when in fact they were merely exposing their illusory character.” I cannot help but think this statement applies to many ideals today (e.g. the term “social justice”) with concern over methodologies to achieve them.
They had avoided the untouchable subject, slavery, until 1819 during the debates over The Missouri Compromise (an argument over the extension of slavery into the territories). Jefferson saw it for the next generation. Again, the fight over slavery and its expansion into the West fell into debates over the intent of the founders! But here were different versions: “Jefferson’s version led directly to the doctrine of ‘popular sovereignty’ ultimately embraced by the Confederacy. Adams’s version led directly to the ‘house divided’ position of Abraham Lincoln” with abolition seen as a “moral imperative.” At this time in history, however, the “dominant legacy…was avoidance and silence.”
“They had become living relics.” And in the end, they died within five hours of each other, remarkably on July 4, 1826.
Conclusion: I thoroughly enjoyed this book and Ellis’s style, about as much as David McCullough’s John Adams which gave a brilliant account of the Adams/Jefferson relationship, the influence of Abigail, plus confirmed the “messiness” of our beginnings. This was a good companion piece. Ellis also uses rich language to explain people and events…my guess being that, after a while, bright historians start to sound like the eloquent people they study.
http://www.jamesrament.com/book-review%E2%80%94the-founding-brothers/
Also early on, he comments on “Whig principles” and how the “arguments used to justify secession from the British Empire also undermined the legitimacy of any national government…For the core argument used to discredit the authority of Parliament and the British Monarchy…was an obsessive suspicion of any centralized political power that operated in faraway places beyond the immediate supervision or surveillance of the citizens it claimed to govern.” Ellis called this legitimacy problem the “central paradox of the revolutionary era” as well as an ongoing dilemma. The opportunities were extraordinary; yet they were overwhelmed by the limited “governing capacities of the only republican institutions sanctioned by the Revolution.” John Adams said, “The lawgivers of antiquity legislated for single cities,” but “who can legislate for 20 or 30 states, each of which is greater than Greece or Rome at those times?” It was “overwhelming.”
Ellis notes that there are “ two long-established ways to tell the story [of the Revolution], both expressions of the political factions and ideological camps of the revolutionary era itself…” (1) It was “a liberation movement” (Jefferson) with its core principle bound in concepts of individual liberty where “any accommodation of personal freedom to governmental discipline” was seen as “dangerous,” which in its “extreme forms” is a “recipe for anarchy…” (2) The alternative perspective of this time in history was collectivist (Hamilton)… that the true spirit of ’76 was the “virtuous surrender of personal, state, and sectional interests to the larger purposes of American nationhood…” which has “both communal and despotic implications.” Ellis correctly suggests that this early historical debate has been the modern debate for our entire history and calls it “humbling” and “dispiriting.” Indeed.
“While we may be able to forestall intellectual embarrassment by claiming that the underlying values at stake are timeless, and the salient questions classical in character,the awkward truth is that we have been chasing our own tails in an apparently endless cycle of partisan pleading.” Again, indeed! We have been oscillating “between new versions of the old tension” ever since, mostly through political discourse (thankfully) with the one violent exception (so far)—The Civil War. Ellis comments further, “Lincoln once said that America was founded on a proposition that was written by Jefferson in 1776. We are really founded on an argument about what that proposition means.” (Emphasis mine)
Chapter 1—The Duel: This is a detailed account of the most famous duel in American history—between Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton on July 11, 1804 (which I won’t rehash). Suffice it to say, that the most compelling questions of the whole affair were: Why did their differences come to such an end? Anger and frustration for Burr; “ambition and insecurity” for Hamilton; “throbbing egos” for both. And “what did it mean?” It meant, “Hamilton became a martyr to the cause of Federalism and Burr became the most despised national leader since Benedict Arnold.” It also meant that there were symbolic “underlying values of the political culture” at stake in addition to the personal feud. Further, it meant the end to the custom of the code duello.
Chapter 2—The Dinner: This chapter is about a private dinner party organized by Jefferson to broker a “political bargain” between Madison and Hamilton with “far-reaching significance: Madison agreed to permit the core provision of Hamilton’s fiscal program to pass; and in return Hamilton agreed to use his influence to assure that the permanent residence of the national capital would be on the Potomac River.” Ellis calls it a “landmark accommodation” although much intrigue ensues with a revisiting of the same arguments: “Hamilton was tone-deaf to the familiar refrains…about the inherent evil of aggregated power” and favored economic development overseen by a “national bank, regulated commerce, and powerful finance ministers.” The Virginians, Madison and Jefferson, were “psychologically incapable of sharing Hamilton’s affinity with men who made their living manipulating interest rates” and it was extremely important to the South that the capital’s location was close at hand so they could keep an eye on things. There was even talk of secession during this period (June 1790) but Jefferson and Madison would not go this route; they would capture the government politically.
Chapter 3—The Silence: Slavery is the subject of this chapter, starting with Quakers petitioning the new government to put an end to the slave trade (which everyone knew also meant slavery itself). The essence of the title is that, in the end, all arguments—and they were legion—ended with, not a consensus view, but a reality nonetheless: that no one really could find a way to “solve” the problem of slavery for fear that the new nation would fall apart over it. In frustration, the talented leaders of our country left it for a later generation but the debate over what the “Revolution meant for the institution of slavery” raged on. “Hindsight permits us to listen to the debate of 1790 with knowledge that none of the participants possessed…that slavery would become the central and defining problem for the next seventy years of American history; that the inability to take decisive action against slavery in the decades immediately following the revolution permitted the size of the enslaved population to grow exponentially and the legal and political institutions of the developing U.S. government to become entwined in compromises with slavery’s persistence; and that eventually over 600,000 Americans would die in the nation’s bloodiest war to resolve the crisis, a trauma generating social shock waves that would reverberate for at least another century.” The liberal values of the Declaration of Independence, “the secular version of American scripture, was an unambiguous tract for abolition.” But it didn’t happen. The Constitution’s “distinguishing feature…when it came to slavery was its evasiveness.” It was neither a defining document for abolition, nor a sanction of the institution, i.e. it was an “exercise in ambiguity” for any resolution would have “rendered ratification of the Constitution virtually impossible.” Thus, it was silently accepted that the subject “not be talked about at all. Slavery was the unmentionable family secret, or the proverbial elephant in the middle of the room” and left for the future.
Chapter 4—The Farewell: The primacy of George Washington in terms of stature, reputation and achievement was self-evident to most Americans, the only possible contender being Benjamin Franklin who died in 1790. When he decided to retire in 1796 due to age, much time was spent on thinking through his legacy and his key message to the nation in the form of his farewell address, which Hamilton helped write. “Washington devoted several paragraphs to national unity. He denounced excessive partisanship, most especially when it took the form of political parties pursuing a vested ideological agenda or sectional interest groups oblivious to the advantages of cooperation.” The balance was about foreign policy, “calling for strict American neutrality and diplomatic independence from the tangled affairs of Europe…unity at home and independence abroad.” Ellis sheds light on Washington’s realism and his immunity from “sentimental attachments or fleeting ideological enthusiasms” and his instinctive mistrust of “visionary schemes dependent on seductive ideals that floated dreamily in men’s minds….” For example, Washington saw excess confidence in France as our “providential allies” in realistic practical terms: “No nation can be trusted farther that it is bound by its interest; and no prudent statesman or politician will venture to depart from it.” There was “enlightened procrastination” in the implied strategy here for it gave the young nation time to grow and organize itself while remaining aloof to the tears and flapdoodle going on in Europe, steering a middle passage between England and France and avoiding war. Washington was not without criticism, for Jefferson and the Republicans saw him as engaged in monarchial activities in betrayal of the revolution; and to be certain, his final advice regarding unity would be ignored. He died on December 14, 1799, and ever the practical man, taking his own pulse as he expired.
Chapter 5—The Collaborators: Adams and Jefferson were the obvious choices to replace Washington in 1796. Adams of course won, inheriting an entangled international scene as well as an ominous domestic one:
1. His VP, Jefferson, was the leader of the opposition party!
2. His cabinet was loyal to Washington’s memory.
3. Political parties were nothing more than ideological camps.
4. “The core conviction of the entire experiment in republican government—namely, that all domestic and foreign policies derived their authority from public opinion—conferred a novel level of influence to the press, which had yet to develop any established rules of conduct or standards for distinguishing rumors from reliable reporting.” (Hmmm…)
“It was a recipe for political chaos… Federalists and Republicans alike were afloat in a sea of mutual accusations and partisan interpretations. The center could not hold because it did not exist.” The issue was as always: federal control or states rights. There was thus a great strain on the deep friendship between Adams and Jefferson. When Jefferson became President, Adams did not attend, taking the stage back to Quincy to be with his wife Abigail, the only one he could trust. Adams and Jefferson did not “exchange another word…for twelve years.”
Chapter 6—The Friendship: Adams fought his internal demons while hard at work on his neglected farm, writing angry essays and letters to purge himself of the injustices against him as he saw them. Abigail was his refuge, a strong lady who thought the world of Jefferson but clearly saw through his duplicity; and said so. It was Benjamin Rush, a long-time confidant of Adams who eventually orchestrated the reconciliation of these two pillars of our founding, taking about two years. It was also under Rush’s prodding that Adams saw the need to clarify his perspective of “history.” To Jefferson, “the Revolution…became one magical moment of inspiration, leading inexorably to the foregone conclusion of American independence.” To Adams, “nothing was clear, inevitable, or even comprehensible…it was patched and piebald policy then, as it is now, ever was, and ever will be, world without end.” In other words, it was messy; and “they were making it up as they went along, improvising on the edge of catastrophe.” Rush was successful; Adams made the first move in a letter on January 12, 1804, filled with light news—the beginning of a remarkable series of correspondence—fourteen years and 158 letters exchanged regarded as “the intellectual capstone to the achievements of the revolutionary generation and the most impressive correspondence between prominent statesmen in all of American history.” Good for us but the author’s point is that the letters also recovered the deep friendship.
One interesting exchange involved “ideology,” a word popularized by Napoleon: “As Adams explained it, the French philosophers had invented the word, which became a central part of their utopian style of thinking and the major tenet in their ‘school of folly.’ It referred to a set of ideals and hopes, like human perfection or social equality, which philosophers mistakenly believed could be implemented in the world because it existed in their heads. Jefferson himself thought in this French fashion, Adams claimed, confusing the seductive prospects envisioned in his imagination with the more limited possibilities history permitted. Critics of Jefferson’s visionary projections, like Adams, were then accused of rejecting the ideals themselves, when in fact they were merely exposing their illusory character.” I cannot help but think this statement applies to many ideals today (e.g. the term “social justice”) with concern over methodologies to achieve them.
They had avoided the untouchable subject, slavery, until 1819 during the debates over The Missouri Compromise (an argument over the extension of slavery into the territories). Jefferson saw it for the next generation. Again, the fight over slavery and its expansion into the West fell into debates over the intent of the founders! But here were different versions: “Jefferson’s version led directly to the doctrine of ‘popular sovereignty’ ultimately embraced by the Confederacy. Adams’s version led directly to the ‘house divided’ position of Abraham Lincoln” with abolition seen as a “moral imperative.” At this time in history, however, the “dominant legacy…was avoidance and silence.”
“They had become living relics.” And in the end, they died within five hours of each other, remarkably on July 4, 1826.
Conclusion: I thoroughly enjoyed this book and Ellis’s style, about as much as David McCullough’s John Adams which gave a brilliant account of the Adams/Jefferson relationship, the influence of Abigail, plus confirmed the “messiness” of our beginnings. This was a good companion piece. Ellis also uses rich language to explain people and events…my guess being that, after a while, bright historians start to sound like the eloquent people they study.
http://www.jamesrament.com/book-review%E2%80%94the-founding-brothers/
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