The Dangers of National Mythology

If there is one thing that the persistent debate over gun control demonstrates, it is that there is a real danger to collective memory. The icon of the National Rifle Association is not an AK-47, nor, indeed, any kind of gun that would be used today. The weapon that Charlton Heston dares the gun control lobby to pry out of his “cold, dead hands” is a revolutionary musket. For those who argue for an unrestrained right to bear arms, the issue is tangled up with those blinding promises of the Declaration of Independence – the rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. The right to bear arms is not a matter of simple policy, as it was in Britain after Dunblane, or in Germany when a disgruntled pupil shot 18 pupils at a school in Erfurt in 2002. For those who shout the loudest, it is a birthright, inseparable from a free press, freedom of religion, or the right to trial by jury.

The Second Amendment is one that is problematic for anyone who wants to untangle the history of the gun in America. It is the only part of the cherished Bill of Rights to have a preamble: “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.” In recent years, the two parts of the amendment have been seen as an either-or choice. Either the amendment was intended to provide for the upkeep of a militia, or it was intended to guarantee the freedom of the populace to arm itself.

The necessity of having an armed populace was easily evident in 18th century America. The USA did not occupy almost an entire continent as it does today – it was surrounded by hostile powers (Britain in Canada; France to the West; Spain held Florida), not to mention Indian tribes who frequently attacked American settlers on the frontier. The possession of a gun was often the only way to defend one’s property. Moreover, a militia prevented the necessity of a standing army (which Americans despised), and having militia under the control of states, rather than the federal government meant that any developing emergency could be dealt with by a force raised more or less in the area affected by attack.

For all that the freedom referred to in the Second Amendment is nowadays linked to the right to bear arms, historically it made most sense in the context of a militia. It was only through defence being a duty of the virtuous citizen that republican government could be upheld. If government was to defend itself by hiring mercenaries (whether native or foreign), that meant the ultimate power a government could hold – waging war – was controlled not by the people but an institution. And so, in 18th century America, the right to bear arms was just as much a civic duty as a civil liberty. As Saul Cornell points out in his work, the freedom to brandish a musket occurred at the same time that all able-bodied men were required to train and serve in the militia.

Clearly, then, the historical context in which the Second Amendment makes sense is no longer applicable to the modern day. The defence of the United States is no longer carried out by militiamen – indeed, the modern Minuteman Project that is intended to deter illegal border crossings gives an image of militia as a rag-tag bunch of ideological freelancers. In fact, the militia of the early republic were often well-organised and well-trained fighting forces with strict rules of conduct. Yet the job of being a soldier, particularly with rapid increases in technology, has now been contracted to full-time professionals and the National Guard.

There’s more to write about the developments in the interpretation of the Second Amendment both in legal and political discourse, but what is undoubted is that the vision that permeates both sides of the debate is a perversion of history. The right to bear arms means something different today to what it did when Madison proposed the amendment to Congress, and the several states ratified it.

The promises of the American Revolution have an incredibly strong pull – for Americans and non-Americans alike. Not only are the promises of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness attractive in their own right, but the documents in which the key promises are contained are written so powerfully that they have an almost intoxicating effect on the mind. Yet just because something has been written down does not mean that it represents reality. It is the strength of those promises, their irreducable link in the minds of Americans with freedom, that has the strongest impression on the mind however. The words, the societal norms may have changed their meanings, yet their link with the past cannot be broken. 

It is a trick of the mind that leads to the difficulties faced in the gun control debate today. How can words written plainly on a piece of paper change their meaning? But times change. The danger of not studying the past is that laws can last longer than people – and most especially in a (written) constitutional system. The present is even more fraught with danger when the veneration of a political system is so great that it bceomes almost untouchable – that, by linking something with the Founding Fathers, it becomes ‘good’ in itself, rather than because of any intrinsic merit. Society, laws, people are never frozen in time – they move forward with inevitability. The events of the past do not have that luxury – and that makes it essential that we do our best to understand them, and not allow them to become frozen in the modern mind.

Guns Don’t Kill People, People Do

There’s a number of things that I want to write about regarding the tragic incidents at Virginia Tech on Monday. I don’t have quite enough time to do them full justice at the moment, but I do want to commit to writing a few preliminary thoughts. It didn’t take long at all before the news of the massacre in Blacksburg sparked off a heavily political debate regarding the right to bear arms. It’s only natural that such a debate is re-ignited at a time like this, but at the same time, I can’t help but feel that it’s counter-productive.

The fact, as regrettable as it is, is that someone who is sufficiently determined to cause the sort of carnage seen on Monday will be able to get their hands on some kind of deadly weapon. It’s only those with significant mental health problems who do cause such tragic occurrences. And, unless the world is suddenly going to stop arms production and concrete over its existing weaponry, then these things will occur. Moreover, even if guns were banned, similar atrocities could be caused with all kinds of other weapons – some (like knives) easier to stop; others (like poison gas or bombs) even more potentially deadly and indiscriminate in their effects. Suggesting that gun control would stop these atrocities is a false argument; it might make them harder, but people as disturbed as the Blacksburg killer evidently was will find a way. Moreover, gun control in Britain, tightened further since the Dunblane tragedy, has persecuted those who want to use guns for legitimate recreational purposes whilst doing little to stop their increased use in organised crime. Laws, particularly general laws made in response to particular circumstances, can have unintentional consequences.

The other difficulty in thinking about gun control at a time like this is that it is easy to see our cultural norms as “superior” because tragedies like this seem less common; because the carrying of a gun in America is visible and, in many cases, almost ubiquitous. That doesn’t mean that portraying Americans as backward or wrong for their desire to carry guns is fair; nor does it mean that legislation that makes perfect sense in a largely urban European setting can fit easily upon gun culture in America. Yes, American belief in the freedom of gun ownership is very definitely an exceptionalist part of their character. That doesn’t mean it is per se wrong. Goldie Lookin’ Chain may have been satirical when saying guns don’t kill people, rappers do. But guns don’t kill people on their own – they need someone pulling the trigger.

Saul Cornell, in his superb recent book “A Well Regulated Militia” (which I’ll refer to later in the week, too), writes:

It is unrealistic to imagine a gun-free America. Nor is it realistic to expect Americans simply to accept that inordinately high levels of gun violence are simply the price of freedom. 

As hard as it is to not have a knee-jerk emotional response when you consider the human tragedy that unfolded in the classrooms of Virginia this week, there is a real need to step back from the emotional excesses of the debate. Gun control advocates must be careful not to portray all gun users as evil. The vast majority aren’t. Nor should the gun rights lobby be averse to having to prove a little more about their background, and have a little more regulation on what guns they are allowed to use. After all, just as the desire to use guns is perfectly legitimate, so are anxieties about not being on the receiving end of a stray bullet. The debate needs a little bit of perspective.

I guess it won’t surprise you to learn that I think a bit more thinking historically about the subject would go a long way. But that’s something that will be discussed later in the week here.

American Travel Narratives

Ever since the founding of the American Republic (and some might argue from the earliest days of colonial settlement), visitors and natives alike have travelled the United States of America in search of the US National Character. Perhaps the most eloquent summation of the search comes in one of its earliest attempts Hector St John de Crevecoeur’s Letters from an American Farmer. Letter III is entitled “What is an American?” It is a question that no-one, native or outside observer, has yet found a satisfactory answer to.

There is something about the American Dream that is intoxicating – its promises of freedom and progress almost inextricably intertwined. It finds its expression in all kinds of nooks and crannies, from Frederick Jackson Turner’s frontier thesis to Michael Howard’s invocation of a ‘British Dream’ early in his tenure as leader of the Conservative Party here in Britain. And yet pinning it down to something more tangible is a somewhat more tricky task.

A whole host of writers, then, from Alexis de Tocqueville to Bill Bryson, have travelled across America hoping to divine some insight into the nature of democracy, into the paradoxes and oddities of such a large, diverse nation. It goes without saying that they all bring their own personal hopes and dreams with them in their narratives; it goes without saying, also, that they were travelling in remarkably different times.

One of the things I am currently doing with my spare time is reading (or, often, re-reading) these narratives to see what sort of picture of America they portray, and on what issues they differ. Have views of America stayed the same over the years (especially over the 20th century)? Did the hopes of 18th and 19th century writers come to fruition? From what sources does admiration of America flow most easily from?

So, over the coming months, expect to see a number of book review-style posts as I work my way through the books I have at hand. It’s part of my aim to make the list as eclectic as possible, with Americans and foreigners alike included, as well as journalistic and serious studies. If anyone has any suggestions for what I might like to include on my list, please feel free to make suggestions in the comments.