The Lesson of Benedict Arnold

I just finished reading Nathaniel Philbrick’s Valiant Ambition: George Washington, Benedict Arnold, and the Fate of the American Revolution.  It is one of a series that Philbrick has written about the settlement of America by Europeans and the early years of the American Revolution.  The book goes into detail about military operations in Pennsylvania, New York, and the surrounding areas during the Revolution, what was happening in key communities, and the inter-personal relationships that shaped America’s fight for independence.  Philbrick’s insights into the personalities, skills, ambitions, and human strengths and weaknesses of our early military leaders and their impact on the Revolution are intriguing, but they took on new meaning reading about them as the Trump impeachment movement took shape over the past few weeks.

            Arnold has become the paragon of the ultimate traitor over the years.  However, he first achieved notoriety as a military leader under George Washington and as the hero of several major battles against the British.  But he was also a prideful man whose mistakes and personal animosities cost him leadership roles and the recognition that he felt was due him.  Congress passed over him for promotion and, at one point, he was court martialed for his actions.  At the same time, he entered into several shady business dealings in an attempt to recover the financial position that he held prior to the Revolution and to support his new wife, who came from a Loyalist family.  

            Ultimately, he turned traitor.  By the time Washington appointed him as commander of West Point—a strategically important site for the defense of New York and the mid-Atlantic states—Arnold had decided to sell information to the British.  When he was found out, he fled, eventually joining the British army to fight against his former compatriots.  After the war, he remained in Britain, except for a brief, unpopular, stay in Canada, and died in 1801.

            As Philbrick paints Arnold’s portrait, the traitor was driven not by ideals or feelings of patriotism to England, but by personal animosities, hurt ego, and, most immediately, the desire to make money.  Philbrick describes Washington’s reaction to learning of Arnold’s betrayal this way:

Being a republic, the country they were struggling to create was ruled not by a king or an emperor but by the mutual consent of the governed.  Arnold had betrayed not just Washington but every American citizen he had pledged to protect.  Since republics rely on the inherent virtue of the people, they are exceedingly fragile.  All it takes is one well-placed person to destroy everything.  Washington, his face betraying the sadness, anger, and shock of this most recent revelation turned to Lafayette and asked, “Whom can we trust now?”

            I finished Valiant Ambition on the day Congress decided to open impeachment proceedings against Donald Trump for encouraging a foreign government to interfere in the 2020 U.S. Presidential election.  The evidence was plain that Trump had asked the President of Ukraine for a “favor”—to investigate the son of his main rival in the upcoming election.  In the process, we learned that Trump had also told the Russians that he had no problem with their interference in the 2016 election.  

            As our country steels itself for the upcoming impeachment investigation, let us not forget the lesson of Benedict Arnold.

A Nation of Immigrants: A Lesson from Nathaniel Philbrick

I am reading Valiant Ambition, the third book in Nathaniel Philbrick’s history of the American Revolution, subtitled, “George Washington, Benedict Arnold, and the Fate of the American Revolution.”  It gave me a reminder of why the lessons of history are so important in guiding our actions and attitudes in the present. 

In Valiant Ambition, Philbrick writes about the battle of Brandywine, in southeastern Pennsylvania.  “After the Battle of Brandywine,” he writes, “a British officer listed the nationality of the rebel prisoners,” adding:

If this list is any indication, most of the soldiers in Washington’s army had been born not in America but in England, Ireland, and Germany, with only 82 of the 315 prisoners (approximately 25 percent) listed as native born.  This meant that while the vast majority of the country’s citizens stayed at home, the War for Independence was being waged, in large part, by newly arrived immigrants.  Those native-born Americans who by mid-1777 were serving in the army tended to be either African-Americans, Native Americans, or what one historian has called “free white men on the move” . . . (p. 187).

He adds further that these soldiers “did not have the education and social standing of the zealous patriots who had served during the early years of the Revolution, but they would become the battle-hardened backbone of the Continental army” (ibid.).

            Today, almost 250 years later, it is good to be reminded that we have always been a nation of immigrants—immigrants who feel deeply the value of our liberty and are willing to fight to achieve and to sustain it.  

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Philbrick, Nathaniel.  Valiant Ambition: George Washington, Benedict Arnold, and the Fate of the American Revolution. New York: Penguin Books, 2016.

A Hot Dog Memory

Today would have been the 75th birthday of my brother, Dave Gregg, who died last month.  When we were kids, my mother celebrated Dave's birthday with a hot dog roast.  Friends and family would gather around a camp fire in our back yard.  It marked the end of summer for us and the beginning of the school year.  Good memories.

Thoughts on Gun Control--Again

On March 23, 2018, shortly after the Parkland massacre, I posted the following item about gun control.  Sadly, it is time to post it again.

On Saturday, I hope to join the local walk for gun control inspired by the students in Parkland, Florida.  In preparation, here are some thoughts on what a reasonable gun control policy might look like.  First, a reminder of the second amendment to the U.S Constitution.  It reads: 

A well-regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed.

Automatic Weapons

            Automatic weapons—the AR15s and weapons like them, along with bump stocks and other devices that allow a gun to fire as if it were automatic—are weapons of war and should not be available to individuals.  These are not weapons of individual protection and have no value to hunters.  Since the Constitution encourages states to establish a “well-regulated militia,”  automatic weapons and related devices, to the extent that they are needed at all, should be maintained in a well-protected armory, so that they are available to the militia in emergencies.  However, they should not be available for individuals to purchase in sporting goods stores, gun shows, or anywhere else.

Other Weapons

            The situation is different for hunting rifles and pistols, given the long tradition of hunting in many American communities and concerns for home safety.  Here, we can learn from the experience of states to control motor vehicles and drivers:

• States should conduct background checks on all individuals seeking to own or use fire arms. 

• Owners and users of weapons should be tested on their ability to safely use the weapons and, having passed the test, should be licensed.  Just as some states have separate licensing to drive motorcycles, cars, and certain trucks, states should require separate licenses for hunting rifles, pistols, and other weapons.  User licenses should be renewed annually. 

• Fire arms ownership should be registered and that registration should be renewed annually, as is done with motor vehicle ownership.

• Owners should be held legally responsible for any deaths or property destruction caused by fire arms that they own.  States should require owners to maintain insurance on their weapons, just as is the case with automobiles.

• Owners should be required to report missing/stolen weapons to the local police within 24 hours of discovering that they are missing.

• There should be adequate penalties for possession of unregistered weapons and for unlicensed use of weapons.

            The infrastructure to administer these requirements already exists in the Department of Motor Vehicles in most states.  It should be relatively easy to add these requirements and support the work through registration and license fees.

            Over the years, the process of registration and licensing around motor vehicles has become accepted as a part of daily life in America.  The driver’s exam and first license are seen by many as a rite of passage.  There’s no reason to assume that the same would not happen when similar requirements are tied to fire arms.  Since it is unlikely that Americans will give up their guns, we need this basic regulation to help protect citizens.

Promoting Social Investment

I serve on the Board of a small nonprofit organization.  This past week, during an executive committee meeting, the Chair noted a disturbing trend in our funding.  The new federal income tax law gives individuals a much higher standard deduction.  As a result, he noted, individuals are less likely to make donations to nonprofit organizations, since that donation is less likely to be used as a tax deduction. The result?  Nonprofits and charities that depend on individual contributions are starting to suffer.

It is intriguing to explore the implications.  On one hand, increasing the standard deduction would seem to promise individual taxpayers an easier and more equitable way to support their government.  A standard deduction simplifies taxes for the majority of Americans.  Only the well-off would want or need to itemize deductions.

But there is another lens through which to view this. A larger standard deduction greatly reduces the incentive for average citizens to donate money to nonprofit social services agencies—from the local library to food banks to the cancer society and other health research and service agencies to museums, and so forth. And, of course, to social rights advocacy groups and other social advocacy groups.  This serves to weaken the impact of these organizations in the community,  It also serves to weaken citizen  investment—that is to say, citizen’s moral investment—and active involvement in social organizations.  That, in turn, weakens the viability of community and, ultimately, democracy, which depends on citizen involvement in society.

Here’s a thought:  Why not keep the standard deduction, but also allow citizens to claim a percentage of that amount as additional deductions for the taxpayer’s contributions to community-based nonprofit organizations?  This would encourage citizen participation in social causes.

The Forgotten Majority: Two Decades Later

            Sometimes, cleaning house can have unforeseen benefits. The other day, we were cleaning out an old drawer to make room for new junk.  Among the old photos and other memorabilia, we found a copy of the June 2000 issue of The Atlantic Monthly.  I took a close look and could find no particular reason why I saved the issue.  But then I found a surprise: one of the featured articles was “America’s Forgotten Majority” by Joel Rogers and Ruy Teixeira.  In 2000, Rogers was a professor of sociology, law and political science at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, and Teixeira was a senior fellow at the Century Foundation.  The article itself was excerpted from a book they were about to release, America’s Forgotten Majority: Why the White Working Class Still Matters.  So here we are, almost two decades later.  What might they have to say about the electorate as we look toward the 2020 election?

            They begin the article by reviewing the common understanding of the American majority that emerged in the 1990s—the idea that American voters were dominated by “soccer moms,” “wired workers,” and suburban married couples—or, as The New York Timesreported in a 1999 article, “affluent independent voters and high-technology employees who work miles from any city.”  Rogers and Teixeira argued that this stereotype missed the mark.  Instead, they noted that more than 75% of American voters lack four-year college degrees, that more than 70% do not hold professional or managerial jobs, and that “the median income of American households is actually quite modest.”  They noted the popular idea that the white working class had, in fact, become “politically irrelevant.”  But they offered a different take on the data, that “the white working class is alive and well in American politics today.”

            What had changed by 1999, however, was how that majority saw itself.  Rogers and Teixeira noted that the members of this majority tended not to be working in factories or other traditional blue-collar jobs.  Instead, they saw themselves as “middle class” voters who, while they did not benefit from policy changes in the 1960-1980s, nevertheless made up 55% of the total voting population.  As Rogers and Teixeira noted, they were also working to overcome some old stereotypes:

·     The majority had at least a high school diploma and 40% had some post-secondary education.

·     They earned a “moderate income”—most on the low side of what was considered “middle class.”

·     They tended to hold low-level white-collar and service jobs, rather than unskilled blue-collar jobs.

·     They were increasingly unlikely to work in factories.

·     They lived in and, in fact, dominated the suburbs.

“In sum,” they wrote, “the white working class remains numerically dominant, even if its form has changed.”

            Rogers and Teixeira argued that “the core values of the forgotten majority must be reunited with their economic experience.”  They suggested the following policy agenda to attract them:

·     Universal access to health care.

·     Adequate retirement income.

·     Access to quality education at all levels—elementary, secondary, college, and beyond.

·     Access to effective job training for people who need to change jobs to keep up in a changing economy.

·     The right to a decent wage and the right to speak out and organize.

·     A work schedule that allows time for family.

·     Access to affordable, quality child care.

·     Government investment to ensure continued economic growth.

The authors noted that “Republicans and Democrats will have different ideas about how to use government to achieve these goals.  But each party must try to achieve them if it means to build a durable majority.  The insecurities of the new economy cannot be remedied without effort; the need to confront them politically is inescapable.”  They closed by calling for both political parties to embrace “the forgotten majority” in order to “revive active, strong government and build a twenty-first century prosperity that includes all Americans.”

That was two decades ago.  

In the intervening years, several things have happened:

·     The “Great Recession” put a squeeze on savings and retirement income for Boomer members of the Forgotten Majority.

·     The cost of higher education grew, requiring many students to carry significant debt as they begin their careers.

·     The first web browser was launched in the early 1990s.  It has since transformed personal and business communications, creating a major impact on how we work and how we conceive “community.”

·     Manufacturing and other industries have become increasingly globalized, creating a global supply chain that is having an increasing impact on manufacturing jobs.

·     The combination of online communications and globalization has created a new work environment, allowing employers to call upon global expertise and allowing many to work from home. 

·     Social, economic, and political change, increasingly complicated by the impact of climate change, have contributed to a global migration of people in search of physical safety and economic and social security for their families.

This leads me to ask: Is the eight-item policy agenda that Rogers and Teixeira outlined in 2000 still relevant?  My view is that all eight elements of the platform issues are still with us.   Progress has been made on some, but none have been totally resolved.  Three of the eight are currently hot topics as we look to the 2020 election:

·     Universal Access to Health Care:  The Affordable Care Act was a major step toward universal access.  As the 2020 election approaches “Medicare for All” has been proposed.  Clearly, though, the country still has work to do before all citizens have equal access to health care.

·     Retirement Income:  Social Security has been under attack for several years.  Clearly, though, the majority of voters would support protecting their retirement investment in Social Security.  Regulation of private insurance plans remains an issue.

·     Education: There has been an increasing demand for open access to postsecondary education—a “K-14” system—to better prepare young people for work in the new, technology-driven environment.  New York, for instance, recently passed legislation allowing resident high school graduates to attend the first two years of college tuition-free at selected public institutions.  Several candidates are also calling for adjustments to the national student loan system in order to relieve young adults from the burden of long-term student debt.

In many ways, the three generations that constitute the Forgotten Majority two decades down the road are shaping a new world.  They have the unenviable chore of trying to keep pace with technological change while building a social structure for a new world. This contributes to a backlash that has only grown over the past 19 years and that is increasingly defined by domestic terrorism, religious intolerance, and hatred of minorities and immigrants.  It is not a question of becoming “great again.”  We cannot go back.  We must instead work together to build a new social structure for the world that was born out of the post-war push for internationalism and technological revolution. The policy agenda that Rogers and Teixeira gave us two decades ago can still guide us as we look around for political wisdom and look forward.

"Crooning" with John Gregory Dunne

            I have just finished reading Crooning, John Gregory Dunne’s collection of essays, reviews, and general articles about life in the latter half of the 20^thcentury.  The collection, published in 1990, includes anecdotes and observations that Dunne has gleaned from his multiple perspectives as a screenwriter, novelist, and critic.  Nine of the thirteen pieces were first published in the New York Review of Books.  

            Dunne was married to writer Joan Didion, whose own work (Slouching toward Bethlehem, The White Album, and others)also chronicled contemporary life.  Over their 40-year marriage, they collaborated on a number of screenplays, including the 1976 version of A Star is Bornand True Confessions, the latter an adaptation of Dunne’s novel.  Dunne died in 2003.  In a way, his death was their last collaboration:  Didion’s 2005 memoir, The Year of Living Dangerously, recounts her life in the year following Dunne’s sudden death by heart attack over dinner in their New York apartment on the evening of December 30, 2003.  For it, she won the National Book Award.

            Dunne grouped chapters them under several themes. The first, “West of the West,” explores people and events he encountered during his early career in Los Angeles, beginning with the story of his personal and professional friendship with Dan James, a screenwriter (and one-time landlord of Dunne and Didion) who was blacklisted during the Red Scare of the 1950s, but who continued to be productive as “Danny Santiago.”  He also writes about how the need for a steady supply of water changed lives in California communities around Los Angeles and about what he learned as a reporter about the life and death struggles facing residents of South Central L.A.

            A section entitled “The Public Sector” contains five essays about well-known public figures from the period, including Edward Kennedy, William F. Buckley, and Tom Wolfe, along with an essay entitled “REMFs” a close look at how class defined who fought in the Vietnam War and how the Vietnamese calculated their path to victory.  “REMF,” it turns out, was military slang in those days for “Rear Echelon Mother Fuckers” (a term that he considered as a possible title for the collection).  It is a compelling take on the Vietnam War.

            Dunne includes four essays in a section on “The Industry” that recalls his experiences, often in collaboration with Joan Didion, as a Hollywood screenwriter.  Two chapters detail the role of the screenwriter in the “industry” as he learned it negotiating deals with producers and directors, and working on a variety of films.  He also profiles some early Hollywood executives, such as Sam Spiegel (Lawrence of Arabiaand The Bridge on the River Kwai), Sam Goldwyn, and others.  

            A section called “Laying Pipe” looks at the environment that produces the events that journalists cover.  A major chapter is about the trip that Joan Didion and he took to Israel in 1987, just before the uprising of that year.  Dunne gives us a close look at the people of Israel and Palestine, the policies that separated them, and how their interactions shaped the Middle East in those years in ways we still feel today.  It is a powerful piece of real-time reporting.

            The book concludes with several chapters on writing both as a creative process and a business.

            What makes the collection special is that, in every instance, Dunne writes not from the perspective of a detached journalist, but from his own direct experience with the subject.  His essays come across not so much as objective journalism, but as memoirs, and that makes the content come to life in a fresh way.  

For three decades and more, Dunne chronicled life during decades of major social change from the Sixties onward.  However, Dunne and his contemporaries were not Baby Boomers. Dunne was born in 1932; Joan Didion in 1934.  Tom Wolfe, who Dunne writes about in Crooning, was born in 1930.  They were, ironically, members of the Silent Generation who grew up during the Depression and came of age after World War II.  As an early Baby Boomer myself, I am often surprised that some of the great figures of the period were younger members of Dunne’s generation.  John Lennon, for instance, was born in 1940. So, I get a bit concerned that the great insights into American culture and world events from my younger days—the days that Dunne, Didion, and others of their generation documented—will be lost on future generations.  If and when that happens, we lose a generational perspective on a remarkable period in our history—a period marked by Vietnam, the Civil Rights movement, assassinations, the first landing on the Moon, and the first flowering of the Information Age.

There is a concept of social development called the “expanding communities” model.  It describes how, as we age, our identity as a member of a community expands. Initially, we see ourselves only in terms of our immediate family.  As we grow and enter school, our family becomes our private identity, while our classmates become part of an expanded public identity.  Later still, our profession becomes our public identity, and our school friends become part of an expanded private identity.  And so it goes.  I wonder if we should also be aware of our “place” in time, moving from the immediacy of childhood to a sense of ourselves as part of a yearly school cohort and, later, as part of a generation.  Then, we can look beyond our generation to see ourselves as part of a culture.  This, perhaps, is the ultimate benefit of reading writers like John Gregory Dunne, who give us a fresh perspective on times we may have lived through, but did not fully experience.  

I bought Crooning last year at the annual used book sale of the local American Association of University Women here in State College.  The next sale is in a couple of weeks.  It is like foraging in the culture.  Can’t wait.