“Malo periculosam, libertatem quam quietam servitutem.”

Thomas Jefferson penned those words in a letter to James Madison in 1787; a Latin phrase, translated as “I prefer the tumult of liberty to the quiet of servitude.”  In his letter, Jefferson briefly examined three societal forms, concluding that a society in which this “dangerous freedom” prevails is superior to all others.

“Societies exist under three forms sufficiently distinguishable.   

1. Without government, as among our Indians.   
2. Under governments wherein the will of every one has a just influence, as is the case in England in a slight degree, and in our states in a great one.    
3. Under governments of force: as is the case in all other monarchies and in most of the other republics.  

To have an idea of the curse of existence under these last, they must be seen.  It is a government of wolves over sheep.  It is a problem, not clear in my mind, that the first condition is not the best.  But I believe it to be inconsistent with any great degree of population.  The second state has a great deal of good in it.  The mass of mankind under that enjoys a precious degree of liberty and happiness.  It has its evils too: the principal of which is the turbulence to which it is subject.  But weigh this against the oppressions of monarchy, and it becomes nothing.  Malo periculosam, libertatem quam quietam servitutem.  Even this evil is productive of good.  It prevents the degeneracy of government, and nourishes a general attention to the public affairs.  I hold it that a little rebellion now and then is a good thing, and as necessary in the political world as storms in the physical.”

~ Thomas Jefferson, January 30, 1787 [1]

If ever you hear the words, “This is not about your liberty or personal freedom,” you should sit up and pay special attention, for that is a sure indicator that it is most definitely about your liberty and personal freedom. 

Those concepts must never be suspended.  Everything must always be about them, for they are precious things.  Every decision and policy must be passed through that filter and viewed through the lens of constitutionality.  This is especially true in times of dire need, cultural upheaval, and national fear; for it is during those times that we are most susceptible to encroachments in the interest of perceived immediate gains of safety and security at the expense of long-term liberty.

The desperate impassioned plea of the Revolution was never “Give me liberty or give me safety.”  The cry was not “Give me liberty or give me security.”  The choice was liberty or death.   For those who have tasted the blessings of freedom, not even fear of death can be allowed to supersede a love of liberty, for in that instant President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s words remind us that “the only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”

You are an American citizen, not an American subject.  Your rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness are not granted to you by a king, a president, or a governing body.  You are endowed with those “unalienable rights” by your Creator; they are not bargaining chips or leverage to be used in negotiation with your own government.  Rather, for the purpose of preserving those rights “governments are instituted among men.”  While history demonstrates that those rights can be trampled on by the governments of men, they can never be erased or revoked.

History is replete with examples of the inevitable outcome of negotiating with corrupt and dishonorable people.   In his memoirs, Black Elk (an Ogala Sioux medicine man who was present at the Battle of Little Bighorn in 1876, and who later survived the massacre at Wounded Knee in 1890) recounts his tribe’s negotiation with the U.S. government regarding access to the sacred Black Hills, where “the Washichus had found much of the yellow metal [gold] that makes them crazy.”[2]  He remembers, “They told us that they wanted only to use a little land, as much as a wagon would take between the wheels . . . and when you look about you now, you can see what it was they wanted.”[3]  Black Elk recounted this memory in the sundown of his life, from his humble residence on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation where he and his people had been herded and contained.  The Indians were viewed by the government as a dirty, ignorant, and unreasonable people who refused to acknowledge “progress” and make the “right decisions” for themselves and “in the best interests of the country”; in the end those decisions were made for them, ostensibly for their own good, and they were forced to accept them.  It is not the purpose here to debate the merits of Manifest Destiny, but the lesson there is worth noting: negotiating one’s freedom with corrupt, greedy, power-hungry, and dishonest people is dangerous business – give them an inch and they will take a continent.

There is a scene from C.S. Lewis’s “The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe” that I find instructive in this discussion of liberty and safety.  In this story, Susan expresses apprehension at finally meeting the great lion Aslan, and she asks, “Is he quite safe?”  The response to this question was, I believe, profound.  “Safe?  Who said anything about safe?  Of course he isn’t safe.  But he’s good.”[4]

That is the picture of freedom and liberty I hold in my heart and in my mind.  Is it safe?  No.  Who said anything about safe?  Of course it isn’t safe; but it IS good. 

Liberty cannot be preserved or even enjoyed by a fearful people.  Let us dispel this spirit of fear that has gripped our land, and let us once again embrace this dangerous freedom that is ours.

[1] PTJ, 11:92-93. Letterpress copy available online at Thomas Jefferson Papers, Library of Congress. Transcription available at Founders Online.

[2] John G. Neihardt, Black Elk Speaks, (New York, MJF Books, 1961), 9.

[3] Ibid.

[4] C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (New York, NY, Macmillon, 1950), 41-42.

Sunrise, September 14, marks the anniversary of the penning of those famous words by Francis Scott Key at Fort McHenry during the war of 1812: “Oh say, can you see by the dawn’s early light . . .”

Much has been said and done regarding our flag – our “star-spangled banner.”  It has been honored and desecrated, praised and rejected, lifted high and trampled low. 

I have heard the notes of the national anthem drifting across the breeze on a beautiful sunny afternoon at a racetrack in Charlotte, N.C., with the flag unfurled and every fan on their feet, every hand or hat over a heart, and voices raised.  And I have heard those same notes, falling upon my ear across the gridiron of a football field while professional athletes take a knee rather than stand in proper respect.

I have seen our flag, wet with the tears of orphans and widows, pressed into the hands of a woman and child, whose understanding of the price of freedom has reached the apex, as the remains of their Marine were lowered into a final resting place.  And I have seen that same flag, thrown to the ground, trampled underfoot, and burned by protesters seeking to make some ideological or political point.

I struggle to understand how any American, regardless of his/her political bent or personal beliefs, can fail to have anything but respect and reverence for our flag and what it has stood for through the years – however imperfectly communicated or executed. Countless men and women have died under its shadow; some of them I have been privileged to call “friend”.  I myself have been honored to serve this great country, following that flag to the far-flung corners of the globe, and have been privileged to serve with some modern-day heroes who have, under this banner, sacrificed their lives on the altar of freedom.

How can one explain this dichotomy in response?  I do not presume to have all of the answers, but I believe it must be, at least in part, a lack of understanding and appreciation for what our flag stands for.  It does not stand for perfection of the past, present, or the future…but for values and beliefs that bring Americans together and provide the freedom and ability to continue striving for that perfection.  President Woodrow Wilson had a wonderful perspective on this.

 “This flag, which we honor and under which we serve, is the emblem of our unity, our power, our thought and purpose as a nation.  It has no other character than that which we give it from generation to generation.  The choices are ours.  It floats in majestic silence above the hosts that execute those choices, whether in peace or in war.  And yet, though silent, it speaks to us – speaks to us of the past, of the men and women who went before us, and of the records they wrote upon it . . . From its birth until now it has witnessed a great history, has floated on high the symbol of great events, of a great plan of life worked out by a great people.”[1]

A thoughtful reader cannot escape these probing questions:  “If the flag has no other character beyond that which we give it from generation to generation, what character has MY generation bestowed upon that flag?  What does it mean now because of me and my actions or inactions?  Does it still represent unity and power?  Or have I and my generation failed to preserve that meaning?”

Henry Ward Beecher felt strongly on the subject, and beautifully articulated that great plan of life, worked out by Americans across the years:

“If one asks the meaning of our flag, I say it means just what Concord and Lexington meant, what Bunker Hill meant. It means the whole glorious Revolutionary War.  It means all that the Declaration of Independence meant.  It means all that the Constitution of our people, organizing for justice, for liberty, and for happiness meant.  Under this banner rode Washington and his armies . . . It waved on the highlands at West Point . . . This banner streamed in light over the soldiers’ heads at Valley Forge . . . It crossed the waters rolling with ice at Trenton . . . Our flag carries American ideas, American history, and American feelings.  Beginning with the colonies, and coming down to our time, in its sacred heraldry, in its glorious insignia, it has gathered and stored chiefly this supreme idea: Divine right of liberty in man.  Every color means liberty.  Every thread means liberty.  Every form of star and beam or stripe of light means liberty.  Not lawlessness, not license, but organized, institutional liberty – liberty through law, and laws for liberty.  This American flag was the safeguard of liberty. Not an atom of crown was allowed to go into its insignia.  Not a symbol of authority in the ruler was permitted to go into it.  It was an ordinance of liberty by the people, for the people.  That it meant, that it means, and, by the blessing of God, that it shall mean to the end of time.”[2]

So, despite the current trend of political correctness to discourage it, and no matter who may be offended, I will stand for our National Anthem, I will salute our flag, and these words will always be on the tip of my tongue and within my heart:

I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America
And to the Republic for which it stands,
One nation, under God,
Indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

While I can certainly understand both past and present frustrations with the state of our nation, I still maintain that anger or disrespect toward the flag is misplaced.  The “Republic for which it stands” is not always the Republic that exists in the present . . . but that is not the flag’s fault.  That flag represents what should be . . . the most noble ideals of humanity, as set forth in the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution.  We have often failed to uphold those ideals, but that is the fault of imperfect (and sometimes evil) men, not the flag or the ideals it represents. 

We can choose to build their lives around hating something or loving something.  I choose the latter, especially when it comes to my country and my flag.  An article in “The American Mind” aptly stated that “No country can survive on a diet of endless self-loathing.”  To that point, it has also been said that “you will never defend what you do not love; and you can never keep what you will not defend.”

I stand with Justice Clarence Thomas, in his words to the audience at Notre Dame in September of 2021.  He recognized that those ideals set forth at our founding have “weathered every storm for 245 years.  [They] birthed a nation.  [They] abolished slavery . . . While we have failed [those ideals] time and again, I know of time when the ideals have failed us.”

So rather than pick at the scabs of old wounds and looking for something to hate, I choose to love my country, respect its flag, and remain committed to the ideals of the “Republic for which it stands,” ever striving to more perfectly live up to the principles set forth in our Declaration of Independence and the Constitution that I have sworn to support and defend.  And I invite any and all who will to join me there.

[1] William J. Bennett and John T.E. Cribb, The Patriot’s Almanac (Nashville, Thomas Nelson, 2008), 206.

[2] Ibid, 499.

The writers of the 16-page document have dedicated the new platform to the “forgotten men and women of America” but chose to intentionally “soften” its provisions that protected America’s forgotten unborn children.

According to the Washington Times, since the overturning of Roe v. Wade Trump’s position on the issue of abortion is that it is an “emotional issue better left to the states to decide,” and that “pushing the issue too hard hurts the party’s chances of winning.”

A generous but fair treatment of the platform committee’s thought process is that the principles of conservatism demand that the Republican Party be completely against any federal interference where the federal government does not have an explicit Constitutional role.  Its authors might argue that the refurbished plank does not abandon the issue, but rather acknowledges the recent Dobbs decision and supports putting the question back into the hands of the states where, as a matter of federalism and conservatism, it should rightly be.

We would humbly remind the reader that slavery was also once considered to be properly a state issue.  It required a war and several Constitutional amendments to finally recognize the personhood of every American, and to secure the God-given inalienable rights (as defined in our Declaration of Independence) of a people who for centuries had been labeled as “property” for the sake of conscience, convenience, profit, and political expedience.

To this day, our Founders are vilified and maligned for their initial compromise regarding the institution of slavery; for “softening” their position and leaving – as Federick Douglas described it – “a venomous serpent coiled in the country’s bosom.”

We believe abortion is a second cousin to that venomous serpent.  It remains coiled in our country’s bosom, and we refuse to let it go.  As with slavery, we should rightly fear the consequences of the approaching judgment that a just God must eventually visit upon our nation for its indulgence of this equally abominable “national transgression.” 

In his second inaugural address, Abraham Lincoln skillfully connected the dots between the size and scope of the Civil War’s cause and consequence, describing the deadly bite of that venomous serpent.

“The Almighty has his own purposes. ‘Woe unto the world because of offenses! for it must needs be that offenses come; but woe to that man by whom the offense cometh.’  If we shall suppose that American slavery is one of those offenses which, in the providence of God, must needs come, but which, having continued through his appointed time, he now wills to remove, and that he gives to both North and South this terrible war, as the woe due to those by whom the offense came, shall we discern therein any departure from those divine attributes which the believers in a living God always ascribe to him?  Fondly do we hope—fervently do we pray—that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away.  Yet, if God wills that it continue until all the wealth piled by the bondman’s two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said, ‘The judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.’’”

God is a meticulous Accountant.  Lincoln believed that the devastation from the Civil War was indeed the payment extracted from this country for the presumptuous sin of enslaving some 12 million people over a period of 250 years.  If that is true, it remains to be seen what judgement the Almighty has in store for an unrepentant and remorseless nation that has slaughtered more than 60 million children in the womb since 1973.  Will God accept as a valid excuse that “it was a state issue”?

As for political platforms, abolition and abortion have much more in common than we may wish to admit.  At their center, slavery and abortion are both rooted in identical principles: both of these abhorrent institutions subjugate a voiceless, faceless, helpless group of people placed in a vulnerable position through no choice of their own, deny them their rightful status as human beings, and then exploit them for personal, economic, and social benefit.

Thankfully, slavery – in its most blatant and brutal forms – has been effectively dead in this country for many years, and no political party feels it necessary to include its position on that that topic in its platform.  But if either party were ever to recommend bringing it back, or returning it to the states to decide, do we think for a moment that the other party would not loudly proclaim its opposition to it as part of their platform?  Should we not be just as bold in our opposition to abortion, until that day in which it is equally as unthinkable and abhorrent to the public conscience as the evils of slavery?

A party’s platform outlines not just its goals, but its identity – not just at the national level, but at the state and local levels as well.  It is the banner under which every candidate and nominee at every level (local, state, and federal) rallies.  Placing value on the sanctity of life should be a part of who we are, and we should be able to advocate for it without inferring a design for a federal overreach.

For any Constitutional conservative, the words “ban” and “mandate” have no place in proper governance; all matters should be either properly addressed by laws or Constitutional amendments adopted by a representative legislature, or left alone.  We contend that including (retaining, not adding) this plank in the party’s platform does not infer a design for unconstitutional federal interference.  It is merely a statement of underlying principles that inform a political worldview and value system, which is important for the American people to know.  The strategy is no doubt an attempt to appeal to a wider voting population through a more tempered approach to a very emotional and divisive issue, but it is likely that the move will alienate far more voters than it will attract.

At present, the matter must properly reside with the states; but if America is to preserve its soul, we believe it must eventually be elevated to a Constitutional issue and resolved with an amendment in favor of life, which is what the former platform advocated.

The question is who will be our William Wilberforce?  Our John Quincy Adams?  Our Frederick Douglas?  Our Abraham Lincoln? 

Judging by this newly proposed platform, the new Republican Party has no such leadership.