~
I grew up in a moderate secular home, in a religiously
moderate place and time (New Jersey; Eisenhower). There would be bunting on Main Street on the Fourth of
July, and a parade, at which the children might wave little flags -- though
these were no more pugnaciously patriotic than banners at our high school
football games (the red, white, and blue
passing imperceptibly into “Fight, fight, maroon and white!”). Columbus Day and Thanksgiving were
occasions for teaching schoolchildren some easy bits of American history; there would be a crèche on the
lawn by the town hall at Christmas;
all without arousing controversy.
Patriotism blended inconspicuously into religion, to the benefit of both: each infused the other
with its own better nature;
religion shed some potential sharp edges in that it was aware that it
served the whole nation, and patriotism was put in its proper, modest place, as
we were reminded that there is something higher than White House or town hall. That the whole nation (so it
seemed) celebrated Christmas (or quietly acquiesced in its celebration), made
that holiday itself both less and more than specifically religious. It was, if we may so phrase it, political but not politicized -- a
symbol of the collective reverent well-being of the polity. And (by
duality), occasions like Washington’s Birthday or Columbus Day, though amenable
to tub-thumping if you were so inclined, still partook of a certain
prayerfulness, as though we were acknowledging secular saints.
Prayer itself, in those days, was by no means excluded from the public
square, nor from our public schools. Group recital of the Lord’s Prayer was like a
mini-holiday within each schoolday, as we bowed our heads and joined our hands
-- and were permanently the better for it. (Coming personally from an utterly unchurched
background, I yet never felt this as any sort of imposition. Rather, it was a welcome window upon an
aspect of life shared by a majority of the townspeople, and from which I felt
otherwise uncomfortably excluded. )
Now all that lies in ruins, undermined in part by
identity-politics of increasing stridency, in ways all too familiar, that need
not be here rehearsed (consult our essay, Happy Sacagawea Day),
in part
by mere indifference or convenience. Latterly, such Presidents as
Princetonian Woodrow Wilson, or ten-dollar Alexander Hamilton, are under
attack from sectarians -- and on grounds, that would apply equally to
Washington and (yes even) Lincoln, or almost anyone of consequence that
you might name. And the campaign race for that sadly tarnished office,
has become ever more feral. Come time, the holiday itself may be
buried, along with Columbus Day, to be replaced, perhaps, by Subaltern
Day.
The snare of convenience we may observe in that subtly poisoned chalice, the Monday
Holiday Bill.
Now, in origin, the word holiday
means ‘holy day’, and not simply a
day off, or an opportunity to get bargains at WalMart on flat-screen TVs. The days on which these were to
be observed were based either on fact (Fourth of July) or on tradition (Thanksgiving, Christmas,
Easter). And the most important
ones still retain these roots. But
the second tier now gets shunted to Mondays. Mind you, I enjoy a three-day weekend like anyone else; just pointing out that something was
lost when we decided, as a nation, to “reschedule”. We went from “Washington’s Birthday” to “Washington’s
Birthday (Observed)” to … Washington’s Birthday (Forgotten).
The final blow to this last
was when it was folded in with Lincoln’s Birthday to re-emerge as the entirely bland and
meaningless “Presidents” Day, on which we observe the mighty accomplishments of
such leaders as Millard Fillmore and Rutherford B. Hayes…
In this age when the top P.C. priority is to shun controversy and
offend no-one, it is easy to forget that neither Washington’s Birthday nor Lincoln’s Birthday were in origin
blandly celebratory or pro-forma.
They did not
commemorate these men as merely persons
-- both Washington and Lincoln
were, in their own day and
for some time thereafter, subjected to such scurrilous abuse as makes the
Birthers’ razzing of Obama seem mild by comparison. Their contingently quirky personalities were not at issue -- this was not Oprah, this was not
People magazine -- rather, they each represented a principle. Those
holidays in fact commemorated violent events of rebellion, one of which gave
birth to the nation, while the other (by bloody surgery) prevented its
death. So far from being
apple-pie-and-motherhood, these were principles, and drastic remedies, which
anyone might well oppose, and many
did: at the time of the rebellion
against our Colonial master, about a third of Americans supported the
insurrection, a third were opposed, and a third sat on the fence; and the Civil War split us cleanly down
the middle.
Washington, we salute you. Lincoln, we salute you.
Aye, and Columbus as well -- without whose bold adventure, your service might
never have come to pass.
~
[Update 15 February 2016]
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