Book 6, Rebirth of a Nation

I haven't read many books in February. I just finished Rebirth of a Nation by Jackson Lears last night. Lears describes the political and social movements of 1877-1920 as one of continual regeneration and rebirth. He doesn't explicitly parallel it to the current era (until the last page or two), but the parallels can seem striking to a reader looking for them. Lears made the case in the recent Atlantic Monthly article by James Fallows, "How America Can Rise Again" -

“Historically, the prospect of imminent decline has been used as a rallying cry, to get Americans committed to whatever is the agenda of the person doing the rallying, often the elites,” he told me. He added that while much of today’s “free-floating populist anger” reminded him strongly of the mood of the 1890s, in light of the long history of such concerns, “we can rightly raise a skeptical eyebrow at the shrillest predictions of imminent catastrophe.”

Nearly 400 years of overstated warnings do not mean that today’s Jeremiahs will be proved wrong. And of course any discussion of American problems in any era must include the disclaimer: the Civil War was worse. But these alarmed calls to action are something we do to ourselves—usually with good effect. Especially because of the world financial crisis, “we have seen palpable declines in the middle class’s standing and its sense of security for the future,” Jackson Lears said. “I think that was a good deal of what was behind Obama’s election—that same longing for rebirth that we have seen in other eras. It is rooted in the familiar Protestant longing for salvation, but is adaptable to secular arenas. Obama was basically riding to victory as part of a politics of regeneration.” Barack Obama’s very high popularity ratings just after the election suggest that even those who now oppose him and his policies recognized the potential for a new start.

The most interesting aspect of the book was the arguments between those who wanted an imperial America and those who either remembered the devastation that war causes and those who saw war as not only necessary but beneficial to forging men's best qualities and purging the contemptible. Lears points out that even those who opposed war on moral grounds sought out other avenues through which to generate the attributes society desires in its people. William James looked for the "moral equivalent of war" -

We should get toughness without callousness, authority with as little criminal cruelty as possible, and painful work done cheerily because the duty is temporary, and threatens not, as now, to degrade the whole remainder of one's life. I spoke of the "moral equivalent" of war. So far, war has been the only force that can discipline a whole community, and until and equivalent discipline is organized, I believe that war must have its way. But I have no serious doubt that the ordinary prides and shames of social man, once developed to a certain intensity, are capable of organizing such a moral equivalent as I have sketched, or some other just as effective for preserving manliness of type. It is but a question of time, of skilful propogandism, and of opinion-making men seizing historic opportunities.

I think this era in American history is fascinating, and I've only come to realize that as I've been able to imagine these historical figures as a resident of Deadwood.