We're going to fight to the death against you and your nigra allies
--Nathan Bedford Forrest
Better to die a thousand deaths than submit to live under you and your nigra allies.
--John Bell Hood
Matt is in general sympathy of my point, but regards the War as sorta tragic, if only from an economic perspective:
That's a lot of money, and you can see why southern slaveowners were eager to safeguard their "investment" in human beings. But the Union spent $2.3 billion fighting the war and the South spent $1 billion fighting back. That right there is approximately the monetary cost of just buying all the slaves and freeing them. Except the war option was not only equally costly in narrowly fiscal terms, it also led to the deaths of 625,000 people and all kinds of other physical devastation.
Which is just to say that the war, like most wars, was a monumentally negative sum use of human capabilities and economic resources. Expending vast resources in pursuit of human freedom was eminently justifiable, but it's still the case that relative to other conceivable ways of wrenching slaves from the grips of their masters "fight a giant war" is a tragically wasteful way to do it.
Another, perhaps less loaded, way of putting this is that a war necessarily involves a serious miscalculation on someone's part. Either you fight and fight and fight and return to the status quo ante, or else someone loses and in retrospect it's clear that they shouldn't have fought. In this case, in particular, the white south made a giant mistake.
I think this is wrong. I don't know that the Civil War should, or shouldn't, have been fought. But it's worth pointing out that it didn't appear by magic. The years leading up to the war -- from the Nullification Crisis all the way to Lincoln's election -- were rife with attempts to forestall a violent sectional confrontation. In other words, it's valid to say the Civil War shouldn't have been fought, but then what should have happened?
Matt seems to nod toward compensated emancipation. Sounds like a decent idea, indeed one that many anti-slavery moderates floated at the time. Indeed, as Eric Foner notes in The Fiery Trial, Lincoln, himself, came into office believing in an anti-slavery alloy of limiting the institution's growth, colonization of blacks, and compensated emancipation. Slaveholders would hear none of it and immediately seceded.
Even in Delaware with a paltry slave population, Lincoln's gradual and compensated emancipation was frustrated:
Opponents warned that emancipated slaves would demand citizenship rights and that the end of slavery would lead to "equality with the white man." Fisher went to great lengths to fend off this charge, insisting not equality but colonization, of blacks already free as well as emancipated slaves would follow abolition. But by February 1862 it had become apparent that the bill could not pass and it was never actually introduced to the legislature. Slavery survived in Delaware until December 1865, when the Thirteenth Amendment became part of the Constitution (and the owners received no monetary contribution.)
Gradual compensated emancipation would, presumably, have been the better option. It would have saved the lives of soldiers, while leaving my grandmother's grandmother as property. This would, presumably, have been "untragic" or "less tragic." At any rate, Delaware -- a state where there were more free blacks than slaves -- rejected this option, preferring to grapple to the last. Compensated emancipation isn't a hypothetical. It was attempted. It failed for actual reasons.
To simply view the Civil War as a massive miscalculation, as Matt puts it, or a mistake is to, first, presume inevitably, and elide the fact that the Confederacy was very well could have won and made their calculation real. Beyond that, reducing the firing on Ft. Sumter to a "mistake" neglects to ask the hard questions--Why was the mistake made? What forces were at work, beyond economics, that would cause a society to make that mistake?
In other words, it fails to confront the antebellum South as not simply a place with economic roots in slavery, but a slave society. Slavery was not merely a matter of stocks, it was a matter of citizenship, suffrage, bearing arms, and the very nature of freedom itself. In 1860, the notion that a large swath of a state could consider itself free was novel, untested, and unstable. I don't want to repeat my post from yesterday, but I urge people to read James McPherson. Again:
[The Civil War] was fought over real, profound, intractable problems that Americans on both sides believed went to the heart of their society and its future.
Finally, I'd submit that there is justice in the fact that there was no compensated emancipation. If you read through the oral histories you find that the slaves themselves, like real Americans, never accepted their status as property. They never believed anyone had the implicit right to buy, sell, or barter them away.
I think of Jourdan Anderson writing to his old master who tried to coax him into returning:
I would rather stay here and starve, and die if it comes to that, than have my girls brought to shame by the violence and wickedness of their young masters. You will also please state if there has been any schools opened for the colored children in your neighborhood, the great desire of my life now is to give my children an education, and have them form virtuous habits.
P.S. --Say howdy to George Carter, and thank him for taking the pistol from you when you were shooting at me.
Mr. Anderson was among that last generation of a people who lived under a two and half centuries of perpetual war, of perpetual violence, of perpetual destruction of black families, of sexual violence and near-ritual torture. I will not privilege the last four years of that conflict over the preceding two centuries.
Perhaps it is right that we regard those last four as "The Late Unpleasantness." I don't want to valorize violence. I'm sensitive to the horrors of war--but, in this country, all wars are not regarded equally. I decline to lament that the federal government didn't go into the business of buying people, stripping them of their claim to America, after investing the profits of their labor, and colonizing them in parts unknown.
I decline all offers to mourn the second American Revolution. No one mourns the first.
The portrait is of Ellen and William Craft, two of the few slaves to escape out of Georgia. Ellen, passing for white, dressed up as a man and passed William off as her slave.
The president laid out 18 promises in a “Contract With the American Voter,” but he only managed to check off a handful by Monday.
“On Day One.” The notion of immediately turning the page on policy is a staple of presidential transitions, from Franklin Roosevelt’s “first 100 days” on, but Donald Trump made the promise of things he’d get done on his first day in the White House into a special mantra throughout the campaign.
The full list, as Tim Murphy chronicled, included some things that were either wildly implausible and evidently figurative, or things that are impossible to assess. (How would you “fix” the Veterans Affairs Department on Day One? What does it mean to start taking care of the military?) But Trump also laid out a set of 18 specific, discrete promises for his first day in office in what he called a “Contract With the American Voter.” So how did he do?
The president declared his own inauguration a national holiday. But the language he used says something more.
You could be forgiven for forgetting the National Day of Patriotic Devotion—technically, it happened before it was ever declared. Donald Trump established it with a stroke of a pen sometime after his inauguration; the official proclamation appeared Monday in the Federal Register.
That bit isn’t all that unusual. Presidents christen National Days Of Things all the time. President Barack Obama, for example, proclaimed the day of his own inauguration in 2009 a “National Day of Renewal and Reconciliation,” calling “upon all of our citizens to serve one another and the common purpose of remaking this Nation for our new century.” He annually declared September 11 to be “Patriot Day.” But “Patriotic Devotion” strikes a different note—flowery, vaguely compulsory.
A No. 1 bestseller by a respected physician argues that gluten and carbohydrates are at the root of Alzheimer's disease, anxiety, depression, and ADHD. What to make of the controversial theory?
“If you could make just three simple changes in your life to prevent, or even reverse, memory loss and other brain disorders, wouldn’t you?”
So asks Dr. David Perlmutter, in promotion of his PBS special Brain Change, coming soon to your regional affiliate. Three changes. Simple ones. Wouldn’t you?
The 90-minute special is a companion to Perlmutter’s blockbuster book on how gluten and carbs are destroying our brains. In November it became a New York Times number one bestseller. Since its September release, as Perlmutter told me, “It’s never not been on the bestseller list, frankly.”
“Is it still number one?” I asked. A pause over the phone as he checked. In modern interview style, we were both also on our computers.
The HBO documentary delves into the disturbing 2014 case of two Wisconsin girls who say they stabbed their friend to appease a bogeyman-like figure.
One late spring day in 2014, three girls entered the woods in Waukesha, Wisconsin. Two walked out unharmed. A 911 call made not long after revealed the hazy outline of a vicious attack—one of the girls had been found by the side of the road covered in blood, having crawled there to get help. In the days and weeks that followed, details emerged that were no less disturbing: The three girls, all 12 years old, were best friends. The victim had been stabbed 19 times with a 5-inch blade and had barely survived. After being taken into police custody, the other two girls told interrogators what had happened: They had lured their friend into the woods to kill her so that they could appease someone called Slenderman.
One of the women who accused Trump of sexual misconduct has sued him for defamation after he labeled her claims false.
Donald Trump is now president and not just a private citizen, but that doesn’t mean he’s free of the controversies that dogged him in his former life.
Last week, a few days before Trump’s inauguration, former Apprentice contestant Summer Zervos sued him in New York state, accusing the president of defamation. Zervos, who’s represented by the famous lawyer Gloria Allred, was one of the several women who accused Trump of sexual assault or misconduct prior to the election. She claims that he kissed her and pressed his genitals against her non-consensually. Trump denied those claims, saying all of the women who had accused him had made their stories up. So Zervos sued him for defamation.
“I wanted to give Mr. Trump the opportunity to retract his false statements about me and the other women who came forward,” she said, as my colleague Nora Kelly reported. She added that she would withdraw the suit if Trump said she had been truthful. That seems unlikely, since a spokeswoman dismissed the suit immediately.
With a penstroke, President Trump withdrew the U.S. from Trans-Pacific Partnership, imposed a federal hiring freeze, and reinstated the ‘Mexico City policy’ on defunding international abortion-related services.
President Trump marked his first full business day in office with three major executive orders, each one aimed at fulfilling campaign promises he made last year.
His most significant order immediately withdrew the U.S. from the Trans-Pacific Partnership, a multilateral free-trade agreement between the U.S. and eleven other Pacific Rim countries. The pact, aimed at counterbalancing China’s growing economic clout in east Asia, was among the Obama administration’s signature foreign policy achievements and a cornerstone of the pivot to Asia.
But the agreement also drew its share of domestic criticism on both sides of the campaign aisle. Both Democratic nominee Hillary Clinton, who initially supported it, and her primary rival Bernie Sanders criticized the pact for not doing enough to support American workers. Trump was among its most vociferous critics, at one point calling it “a continuing rape of our country.”
The president has reinstated a contentious policy that blocks funding to international family-planning organizations unless they agree not to promote abortion.
On Monday, just days after hundreds of thousands of women marched on Washington, as well as in hundreds of cities around the nation and the world, to call for, among other issues, the protection of women’s reproductive rights, President Donald Trump signed offon the first anti-abortion policy of his term.
It was expected: Almost immediately upon entering office, every new administration since 1984 has repealed or reinstated, according to its party’s position on abortion rights, a rule that prohibits foreign organizations that receive U.S. family-planning funds “from providing counseling or referrals for abortion or advocating for access to abortion services in their country.”
This rule, known as the Mexico City policy, blocks U.S. family-planning assistance to these groups, even if their abortion-related activities—including information, referrals, or services—are conducted with non-U.S. funds. Opponents to the restriction have dubbed it the “Global Gag Rule” because it hinders communication between health-care providers and patients.
The president repeated his belief that the U.S. should have taken Iraq’s oil, ominously adding that the CIA may “have another chance.”
Every American, regardless of who they voted for in the election, should be furious with President Donald Trump for what he told the CIA during a recent meeting at its headquarters. I do not mean his digressions about the size of the crowd at his inauguration and the number of times he has appeared on the cover of Time magazine, although it does not inspire confidence to see the president waste fleeting time with national-security employees on his vanity rather than our security.
It’s his comments on Iraq that ought to make Americans apoplectic, for in the space of seconds, Trump managed to utter words that are 1) morally repugnant, 2) certain to be exploited as a recruiting tool by America’s terrorist enemies, and 3) likely to help foreign adversaries diminish America’s reputation and power. For the sake of an indisciplined, self-indulgent riff, Trump made Americans less safe.
Narcissism, disagreeableness, grandiosity—a psychologist investigates how Trump’s extraordinary personality might shape his possible presidency.
In 2006, Donald Trump made plans to purchase the Menie Estate, near Aberdeen, Scotland, aiming to convert the dunes and grassland into a luxury golf resort. He and the estate’s owner, Tom Griffin, sat down to discuss the transaction at the Cock & Bull restaurant. Griffin recalls that Trump was a hard-nosed negotiator, reluctant to give in on even the tiniest details. But, as Michael D’Antonio writes in his recent biography of Trump, Never Enough, Griffin’s most vivid recollection of the evening pertains to the theatrics. It was as if the golden-haired guest sitting across the table were an actor playing a part on the London stage.
“It was Donald Trump playing Donald Trump,” Griffin observed. There was something unreal about it.
Saturday’s unprecedented show of opposition punctured a core myth of the Trump presidency. Will it change his behavior? And can it be sustained?
George W. Bush campaigned as a uniter, not a divider, then presided for eight polarizing years, provoking protests like the one against the Iraq War on February 15, 2003, that sent hundreds of thousands of Americans into the streets of major cities. Those protests stopped neither the Iraq War nor the reelection of the president.
Months after Barack Obama was sworn in, on April 15, 2009, protesters associated with the Tea Party held rallies in 350 cities, attracting more than 300,000 Americans. They were angry about the financial crisis, the Bush administration’s response to it, and the progressive agenda of the polarizing new president and Congress. The following year, 84 Republican freshmen joined the House during the 2010 midterms. By 2012, the Tea Party had fueled victories for politicians including Rand Paul, Mike Lee, Marco Rubio, Ted Cruz, Scott Brown, and Nikki Haley. President Obama’s ability to advance a domestic agenda was all but finished, though he retained enough popularity to be reelected easily in the 2012 campaign.