July 4 is nearly here and it may be time to reflect on some of the conditions that led to our Declaration of Independence.
King George III plays the villain’s role in the Declaration, and rightly so—he served as a symbol of a more complex set of failures. Parliament, the bureaucracy, the mercantile elite, and the Church were among the institutions that failed to recognize the legitimate needs of their fellow citizens in the thirteen colonies. Ordinary people were increasingly aware that they were being treated with disregard bordering on contempt. Interests critical to their survival and prosperity seemed to be nothing more than irrelevancies in the eyes of the English elite. They were not wrong and it helped generate a critical mass of support for independence and revolution.
We were fortunate that colonial leaders were determined the new nation would be a democratic republic in which the voice of the people would always be heard and no king would rule. The Articles of Confederation were the first attempt to create a government of thirteen independent states promising to coordinate and cooperate out of goodwill. It didn’t work. The Constitution was the second try—and it turned out to be a political masterpiece, laying the foundation upon which we’ve continued to build toward the fulfillment of the promise that every person would be secure in life and liberty, with an equitable opportunity for a prosperous life.
There are some similarities between the conditions that resulted in the War of Independence and what many Americans feel they are experiencing today.
The Vietnam and civil rights years deeply challenged public trust in the institutions of American government and society. That breach created fertile ground for a media barrage claiming that ordinary working people are being tyrannized by left-leaning elites. The so-called “heartland”—the last holdout of real Americans—was portrayed as ignored and unheard by liberal coastal elites more interested in radical social policies that gave underserved advantages to minorities at the expense of ordinary people.
Race and gender were at the heart of messages that claimed to promote fairness and justice but proved effective tools for inciting discontent. One could blame the messengers—and they certainly bear responsibility—but their messages hit real nerves: fear, anxiety, and a profound sense of abandonment.
As in the revolutionary era, it seemed the institutions of federal government, big business, and elite universities had failed to hear and heed the voices of this segment of the population. That needs clarification: I believe the institutions did respond—but not in ways that the people I’m calling “heartland Americans” could perceive as hearing them. Congress enacted policies and funded programs to meet real needs, but they did so in ways that made people recipients, not participants, in decisions affecting the most vulnerable parts of their lives. Human dignity erodes when one’s sense of agency is disrespected or ignored.
Big business treats every consumer as a malleable commodity, easily manipulated by appealing to desire. They claim to offer goods and services that improve life—and sometimes they do—but they don’t really care whether they do or not. They only care about the sale. That’s how it feels to many Americans. Millions who work for big corporations are rightfully proud of what they do, but may also carry the nagging suspicion that the corporation cares little for them or for anyone else. A corporation is a legal entity organized to reward investors—it has no personal stake in the well-being of anyone. Whatever morality it expresses depends entirely on the ethics of its senior management, and its terms of operation are set by law.
Elite universities assumed the role of arbiters for what is right and acceptable for the good of America. But their criticism of tradition often came across as condemnation of ordinary people and their ways. A degree from such institutions appeared to be the key to privilege, status, and opportunity—doors that seemed closed to everyone else. Whether true or not, appearance is what counted. And it was the appearance of arrogant contempt.
Let’s be clear: whatever the reality, right-wing media seized every nerve, exaggerated every threat, and demonized everything inconsistent with their definition of “heartland values.” They turned smoldering resentment over real problems into the populist uprising we now know as MAGA. They even promoted talk of a new revolution—not like our own American Revolution, but more like the French one: bloody, brutal, and ending in dictatorship.
So where does that leave us?
Let me suggest four impossible things (and yes, I know the White Queen had five, but I’ll stick to four):
First, and by far the most difficult, is to do everything in a way that affirms the dignity of every human being. Heartland Americans must come to believe that their dignity is fully affirmed—but not greater than anyone else’s. The full dignity of every person is mutually dependent. Rugged individualism must give way to the authenticity of community. No individual can flourish apart from the well-being of the whole.
Second, the federal bureaucracy must be restructured as a leaner, more efficient organization oriented to public service and satisfaction.
Third, the legislative rules governing large corporations must include enforceable standards of accountability—to workers, to customers, and to the communities in which they operate.
Fourth, public community colleges and universities must be adequately funded to provide affordable, accessible education for all, whether that leads to a licensed trade or a Ph.D. is secondary. What matters is that the doors are open.