An American Haggadah

a new ritual for a new fourth of july

Fireworks, hot dogs, and watermelon. Such are the perfunctory rites of the Fourth of July.

The Fourth has had the unfortunate luck of falling into the same category of holiday as St. Patrick’s Day and Cinco de Mayo; a foreign celebration whose kitschy customs of food and drink have creeped into the American zeitgeist.

No one really knows what the catholics are up to on St. Paddy’s day, and similarly, most Americans think they’re downing 40oz cervezas on Mexican Independence Day — wrong. Soon, only the beers and brats will survive the holiest of secular holidays, and the cause of celebration will only be a reason to grill and a day off from work. Independence from whom, exactly? The patriarchy, of course!

We are only as much as the stories we tell about ourselves. When my daughter is old enough, I could tell her that we’re Tennesseans, first and foremost, or that we’re citizens of the globe, or the children of God. Each one carries with it a different history, connotes a different perspective, and suggests a different aim.

Or I could tell her that we’re Republicans put on this earth for the sole purpose of owning those insufferable libs, or that we’re the proletariat, oppressed by the machinations of the free market and we must exact our restitution from the capitalist class, or that we’re the chosen people of this land, and it’s up to us to keep the barbarians outside the gates.

A story, a history, is how you know your place in the world; it’s how you move forward. Lost in the desert, fleeing an oppressor, it would be helpful to know from which you came so that you didn’t return to his open arms after an abbreviated absence. Telling the story of the founding, the reasons for its establishment, and the philosophy of our founders would instruct us on how to keep the dream going instead of whatever corporatist, totalizing, populist nightmare into which we are careening.

The political struggle of those white-wigged boys wasn’t about tax rates; it was about agency. It wasn’t about public education or whether corporations are people. For centuries, we’ve had the pleasure of arguing between liberalism and conservatism only because the revolution was fought along entirely different lines.

Independence or servitude. Life or death.

Our literal and figurative forefathers gave their lives and fortune to free their descendants from the shackles of a monarch. But a couple of centuries later, kings and furors defeated, we imagine ourselves to be, once again, at the end of history. How is it that we forget so quickly our desire for comfort, our penchant for submission? How easily we sin.

Growing populism, rising grievance politics, and the Left’s idiotic flirtation with communism are roads to privation, not flourishing. A man who has literally said the words ‘seize the means of production’ will most likely be the next mayor of the financial center of the world. The fight against socialism isn’t ours; it should never have washed up on these golden shores. Haven’t the Eastern Europeans already fought and lost this battle? Ask Albania, ask Romania.

Basically, to misquote the great American band, the Strokes, ‘that’s for other bands countries to do.’ That’s not our fight. The Declaration of Independence is a rejection of the totalizing State and Monarch. We need only to remind ourselves of our lofty beginnings to steel ourselves against the wayward ways of man.

A culture with below-replacement birth rates and an obsession with ancestor worship and solipsism that is preoccupied with who to give power rather than how to return it to the people is one that has no future. It is a culture of death — obviously.

More than the grilling, picnicking, and impromptu ER visits, a new ritual should be added to the holiday observation. An American Haggadah — a ritual retelling of the history that defines us.

Just as Jews retell the story of how they escaped the clutches of the Pharaoh by divine providence every year during Passover, Americans ought to recite the Declaration of Independence with mouthfuls of apple pie and vanilla ice cream. Instead of manna, it was assistance from the French, and instead of the parting of the Red Sea, it was the Delaware River. Regardless, the founding of America is truly a modern miracle conducted by exceptional individuals and should be regarded as such.

There’s a reason why Ben Franklin had an affinity for comparing the first Americans with the Israelites. Thomas Paine invoked the character of Noah, saying that the colonies had the opportunity to begin the world anew.

Such is the gift that the Founding Fathers gave us; an amendable constitution subject to its people who would be united, not by race or religion, but by ideas. America remains Noah after the flood, every new generation peering with squinted eyes at the rainbow in the sky. Not perfect, not evil, but good in its own time with the freedom of will to shape the future.

This is the story we should tell ourselves and our children; equal parts gift and responsibility.

Before the Israelites crossed into the Promised Land, Moses gave one final address where he relayed the fundamental choice the people had to make between life and death. I’m not suggesting that the United States is on the precipice of the land of milk and honey or an Eden made-over, far from it, but the choice is foundational and prudent for all men and women at all times.

This year, this Fourth of July, choose life. Choose independence.

And as for the hot dogs, choose mustard.

To a better next week,

Have a wonderful holiday,

Cheers,

~FDA