Believing in the experiment of democracy, despite the setbacks
If the experiment of American liberal democracy has historically failed to live up to its ideals, why believe in its future? Harvard University historian Jill Lepore grapples with that question in This America: The Case for the Nation. Less than a year ago, Lepore explored the nation鈥檚 contradictions in 鈥淭hese Truths: A History of the United States,鈥� an ambitious one-volume history. 鈥淭his America,鈥� at close to one-fifth the length, serves as somewhat of an epilogue. At a time of growing division and uncertainty, Lepore calls for a reckoning with the nation鈥檚 past and a patriotic embrace of its foundational values.
Much of the book deals with American nationalism, which Lepore argues is an un-American idea. She doesn鈥檛 take issue with loving one鈥檚 country 鈥� she argues for patriotism 鈥� but nationalism encompasses a belief that the world 鈥渙ught to be divided into nations,鈥� a view that she warns lends itself to hatred of others. Neither the Declaration of Independence nor the Constitution, she points out, referred to the United States as a 鈥渘ation,鈥� and nationalism鈥檚 very existence seems contradictory in a country founded as an asylum. 鈥淧atriotism is animated by love, nationalism by hatred,鈥� she writes of the distinction.
In the late 20th century, American historians largely stopped studying national history, believing nationalism was ready to cede to a global future. Nationalism, however, never went away; its prevalence in contemporary immigration debates has made that clear. But even if nationalism is dangerous, the world is and likely will remain composed of nation-states for the foreseeable future. As a way forward, Lepore proposes recentering the nation upon 鈥渁 new Americanism鈥�: a patriotism crafted around not a set of common identities, but a love of the same civic ideals. At the nation鈥檚 core, Lepore reminds us, lies 鈥渢he idea that all men are created equal and endowed with inalienable rights.鈥� She writes, 鈥淎nyone who affirms these truths and believes that we should govern our common life together belongs in this country. That is America鈥檚 best idea.鈥�
Yet, she observes, 鈥渁 nation founded on ideals, universal truths, also opens itself to charges of hypocrisy at every turn.鈥� While 鈥淭hese Truths鈥� details the wealth of those contradictions much more extensively, 鈥淭his America鈥� spends most of its time discussing a history of immigration restrictions. Fittingly, Lepore dedicates the book to her father, 鈥渨hose immigrant parents named him Amerigo in 1924, the year Congress passed a law banning immigrants like them.鈥�
Borrowing from W.E.B. DuBois, Lepore interprets history as the nation鈥檚 struggle to make good on its promises, comprising its 鈥渉ideous mistakes鈥� and 鈥渇rightful wrongs,鈥� as well as 鈥渢he great and beautiful things鈥� that it can do. 鈥淭he nation, as ever, is the fight,鈥� she writes. It must take responsibility for its failures.聽
Lepore also looks optimistically on the nation鈥檚 values that make change possible. She quotes Martin Luther King Jr.: 鈥溾�楾he great glory of American democracy is the right to protest for right.鈥欌�� She notes that nearly all who have endeavored to achieve change 鈥� from Native rights activist William Apess to women鈥檚 suffragist Elizabeth Cady Stanton to labor unionist Eugene Debs 鈥� have advanced their causes through patriotic pleas.
鈥淭his America鈥� isn鈥檛 the groundbreaking work that 鈥淭hese Truths鈥� was, which Lepore acknowledges. It is unlikely to convince anyone who doesn鈥檛 already agree with her, and those who feel betrayed by the nation鈥檚 broken promises may wince at her invocation of patriotism. But Lepore, in sharp and earnest prose, provides a timely reminder that while the nation hasn鈥檛 achieved its egalitarian promise 鈥� and there鈥檚 no guarantee it ever will 鈥� the values at its core ensure the existence of a mechanism to fight for it.
