Bridging the Divide at 250

When I set out to write The Case for America, I hoped to find core truths about who we are as a people on our 250th anniversary, and how we can bridge our divides.

Today, we often hear people complaining that we live in an age of perpetual conflict and are far from the unity in our name. But history helps us gain some perspective. From the founding chapters of our nation to the present day, unanimity has never been as important as character. In fact, dissent has been a common feature of the American way. It is baked into our identity, a sign of our core greatness. The freedom to disagree distinguishes us as a democracy.

In 1776, when the Continental Congress met in Philadelphia to discuss seeking independence from the British, the sessions were heated. John Adams lamented that “every

important step was opposed, and carried by bare majorities, which obliged me to be almost constantly engaged in debate.” On the central question—should we divorce from Great Britain or seek reconciliation—the two sides were miles apart. It seemed an agreement was impossible. Yet through debate and compromise one was reached, and the Declaration of Independence rang out with the sound of unity.

In the years after the Declaration of Independence, following a long and brutal war, the nation was once again in upheaval. There was disagreement about how we would exercise our precious independence. At times the dissent became so great that some people advocated a return to British rule. The leaders organized a Constitutional Convention in 1787 as an effort to heal the divisions and find common ground in a national blueprint.

Over the course of four months in a closed room in the Philadelphia state house, 55 delegates fought to define the principles and practices we would stand by. The disagreements were once again heated, and almost crippling. At one point George Washington, the president of the convention, was so discouraged by the conflict that he wrote to Thomas Jefferson, serving as ambassador to France, “In a word, it is at an end, and unless a remedy is soon applied, anarchy & confusion will inevitably ensue.”

Yet once again they rose above their disputes and completed a Constitution, which Washington then proudly claimed was a result of a “spirit of amity, and of that mutual deference and concession.”

In The Case for America, I examined the frequent times our nation has chosen unity despite dissent. It is an essential part of our character. Our Founders understood this when they created a constitutional framework for self-government and introduced a system of checks and balances designed to protect liberty, encourage debate and prevent the concentration of power. They built institutions that have stood the test of time and are worthy of our reverence.

But the Founders understood something else that was equally important: Institutions alone cannot sustain a republic, because even the strongest institutions depend on the people who operate within them.

A free society requires citizens who are willing to engage with one another, participate in civic life and work through disagreements peacefully. It requires leaders who can make their case without assuming that everyone who disagrees with them is acting in bad faith. That is why civility is not simply a matter of courtesy. It is a practical requirement for democratic self-government.

We don’t always understand the meaning of civility. It is not, “I agree with you.” It is “I am willing to engage with you.” The miracle of a constitution reflecting the ideals of a people with many differences stands as an enduring tribute to civil engagement. Studying the Founders, I was struck by how often they spoke of “civic virtue,” which they defined as the responsibility for active and sincere participation in the good of the nation. Remember, all that was demanded of citizens under a monarchy was obedience. What is demanded of citizens in a republic is engagement.

Active engagement in citizenship isn’t always comfortable. It involves challenging assumptions, debating core ideas, and questioning whether long term ideals continue to serve the people well. It means focusing on the future and constantly imagining the world we want to leave our children.

To fully engage in civic life, we must engage in civic education, particularly in passing democratic values from one generation to the next. Civic knowledge, historical understanding and respect for democratic institutions are not automatically transmitted. They must be taught, modeled and reinforced. This is one reason civic education matters so much.

Ronald Reagan famously captured that idea in one of his most stirring speeches, when he said, “Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn't pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same…”

As we approach America's 250th birthday, let’s pass on the lessons of our history. To engage, we must learn. To learn we must study and debate. We do not fear dissent. We embrace it and welcome it as a step on the road to ultimate unity. One of the lessons that emerged most clearly while I was researching The Case for America is that the nation's future has never been determined by its challenges alone. Just like our forefathers, we look to the future with a strong set of ideals that rise above our conflicts to bring us together.