A Few Shiny Pebbles

This is the first of a few posts on America. This first one is about a speech I gave at a combined Toastmaster’s meeting in September 1991. In Part Two I will compare the content of my speech with an article by John Gray written in 1993. Part Three will compare the content to an article written by Samuel Francis in 1993.

In 1991, I was watching part of a Senate Confirmation Hearing on C-SPAN when I received a call from my Toastmaster Club. The person who was to give a speech the next day couldn’t, and I was asked to speak in his place. My speech would be given before a combined club meeting of my own Lompoc club with the two Toastmaster clubs at Vandenberg Air Force Base, so I decided to combine the interests of the military audience with the idea of the Senatorial hearing I was watching, and write about an aspect of America and what it meant. The speech had to be relatively short, which meant I had to focus on a very narrow topic.

I was idly looking at a map that had the words “The United States of America” printed boldly across the multi-colored geographical relief of our part of the North American continent. I had been thinking about the hearing, and I thought, “What if we couldn’t hold public hearings, if we had no way to see what was going on in our government? How un-American that would be!” It struck me, with a sudden sense of puzzlement, that there was something about America that was different from the other countries on Earth, that it was possible for our country to change in ways that are directly against our beliefs as Americans.

But if such anti-American changes were made, we would still be living in the United States! In the same way that France and Germany and Italy and China and Brazil keep on through drastic changes in governments and philosophies, the United States would still be the United States despite any such change. But it seemed to me that with profound changes we would not believe that we still lived in America! I looked at the map in my hands, and in my mind’s eye I saw the word “America” lift up from the map of the United States and float above it.

It struck me then that America is not a country. It is a State of Mind, a Way of Life, an Ideal, an Ideology filled with details. And the fact that this State of Mind co-exists roughly with a solid, dirt-in-the-ground, mountains-and-rivers-and-plains sort of country known as the United States should not confuse the matter.

I sat down that evening in 1991 and wrote a speech, “Where Is America?” This speech is included below. It makes several important points about America, and I didn’t know it then, but this was the first step on a journey of discovery. It was also, though again I didn’t know it, the first shot I fired in my personal involvement in the Cultural War.

THE SPEECH: “WHERE IS AMERICA?”

Our country is known as both America and the United States. We think they’re used interchangeably, but they’re not. We all know that we can find the United States on a map; but where exactly is the America of “The American Dream”?

Now, I’ve always loved the songs “God Bless America” and “America the Beautiful.” They both speak of the splendors of America, of mountains and prairies and spacious skies, of the magnificent land of the United States. But if the American Dream is to make sense, it would seem that “America” is not like Germany or Pakistan or Brazil—“America” is different from our land, however much we cherish it. It is something more. Something different.

So is it the people? Our magnificent people? Yet, a few of the most vehement haters of America are U.S. citizens. Such people who condemn the American Dream and Values are not America, however much they share the fields and fruits and skies of the United States. And we know that there are foreigners who are America—people so in love with America that they endure extreme hardships for the chance to come here, even at the cost of their lives, in search of a place where they can be free to fulfill their dreams. So I think that what makes someone truly America is not where you are born.

And then, as I watched the hearings in Washington right now, the confirmation hearings for positions of power in our land, I saw one of the rooms absolutely empty of people, and I was struck by a simple fact: Seemingly empty, the room yet held deep significance. The form of the room. The chairs behind the panel’s table, whereon would sit the people publicly elected to represent America. The chairs in front, for those who would face the panel and the public scrutiny, for those who argue for and against. The chairs for those who watched, as we ourselves watched on TV. All with a sense of commitment to the process.

Let me repeat that word: Process.

These rooms, set up in different configurations for the Processes of our government, these rooms —the Senate, the House, the White House, Institutions, Hearing Rooms—all are physical embodiments of certain basic, fundamental ideas.

And that gave me the answer.

America can be physically embodied, but it is not that physical reality, it merely borrows it. For it is a Process. A process with very definite, very important patterns. Inviolable patterns.

It is a process that embodies certain ideals. Inalienable ideals.

These ideals are deceptively simple in their statement. In one of their paper embodiments—The Constitution—they can be enumerated in as few as five pages—pages about forming a more perfect Union, about Justice and Human Rights. About the formal nature of these patterns of process.

In The Declaration of Independence, these ideals comprise two short sentences: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. That governments are instituted among men to secure these rights.”

In those physical embodiments that require human form—that need the fire of living breath, the magic of the human mind, the power of the human hand, the wildness or the measured tread of aspects of the human soul, the free enchantments of the human tongue—these patterns find their form in words and deeds that resonate throughout the world.

So simple—and so complex. This is America.

It is a Dream. It is a Process. It is as large as all the aspirations of Mankind, but simple enough to be encompassed by a few simple words. It is embodied by structures as large as a continental nation, and as small as a flag. It is a process as monumental as a just war, valiantly fought, and as complex as a national election dignified by secret-ballot. It is as deceptively commonplace as a group of people coming together, voluntarily, to learn skills and expand their awareness.

Mister Toastmaster, fellow Toastmasters, Guests—this very club itself, wherein we celebrate the freedoms of assembly, of speech, of self-determination—this is an embodiment, a momentary solidification of America.

America is a Dream that fires the soul. Its magic is powerful enough to change the world. The American Dream was real in the hearts and minds of those who fought in the Gulf War. It is embodied by all who wear the uniforms that proclaim the defense of America, in whatever capacity, throughout the world.

America existed—actually existed—in the hearts and minds of those who stood their ground in Tienanman Square, of those who tore down the Berlin Wall, of those who faced the tanks in Moscow. There are those who kiss the very ground that represents America when they return from some far-off enterprise of danger.

Recently, it moved us to see those, in Albania, who heard the music of America so strongly sounding within them that they bent to kiss the car our Secretary of State arrived in. And we’ve had the extraordinary vision of countless thousands of American flags, clutched in hands of strangers, in strange lands, in languages sounding strangely in our ears, crying out their “oneness” with us. Sharing America. Sharing our Dream.

At these moments, America itself existed in those far-off realms, within those minds that stared out at us through eyes that viewed a different physical world, but the same Dream.

If America has a Place—it is in the Heart and Mind and Soul.

If America has a People—it is those who share the Dream.

If America has a Dream—it is that which embodies its Process.

I started my search for America by mentioning two songs that we all love: “God Bless America” and “America the Beautiful.” They have been mentioned at times as substitutes for our National Anthem, “The Star Spangled Banner.”

But I see now why I must disagree with any substitute, wonderful as those other songs are. They extol our land—our beautiful land, with all its splendors. They extol the United States that Americans have made, and rightly so. But America is much, much more than this.

It cannot be spanned by a piece of land. It is a dream, and a process. Its most tangible symbol is the American Flag. Its most tangible embodiments are the institutions of our Republic. That is why we pledge our allegiance to the Flag, and to the Republic for which that Flag stands.

And that is why “The Star Spangled Banner,” which in all four of its verses speaks of the Flag and of the values it represents, is justly our Anthem.

The arena of War, over which victory our Flag still waves, is not just the fort Francis Scott Key watched being bombarded while he wrote the anthem; it is the War that everywhere is fought in men’s minds and hearts, a War that shows its victories by the presence of our Flag, however alien the hand that holds it, or the land over which it waves. There, for that moment, there is America. America encompasses it all.

America is the Dream. It is the Process. It pulsates with Life. And the Dreams of Life require a special effort. A man who knew something about Dreams, Lawrence of Arabia, said:

All men dream . . . but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that all was vanity; but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dream with open eyes, to make it possible.

Every dawn awakens us to face a new day—and a continued responsibility. While those who insult and condemn America struggle fitfully in a Nightmare of their own creation, we—those of us who love America, who carry it with fierce pride in our hearts and minds—we Dreamers of the Day must walk through the world with our eyes wide open—to make Real that most glorious Dream of all:

The Dream we call “America.”

Trackposted to Outside the Beltway, The Virtuous Republic, The Random Yak, guerrilla radio, Big Dog's Weblog, The Crazy Rants of Samantha Burns, The World According to Carl, The Pink Flamingo, Stuck On Stupid, Gulf Coast Hurricane Tracker, Conservative Cat, Pursuing Holiness, Wake Up America, LaTogaStrappata®, and Gone Hollywood, thanks to Linkfest Haven Deluxe.

In 1776, a small group of extraordinary men gathered to declare before Mankind and God that they were determined to make an awesome dream into a reality. The creation of America was one of those rare moments the very air seems rarefied and filled with the exotic scents of tomorrow’s promise. It was a moment when History held its breath, startled once again into an awareness that individual human beings are a force beyond calculation. Humans are dangerous. They can change the airy nothingness of a dream into a formidable reality that can dictate the destiny of the world.

Dangerous, dangerous human beings.

Dangerous dreamers.

All people dream.

They dream of making giant steps, of having destiny’s fulfillment within their own control, of a land of milk and honey, of the fabled realms of gold. With legend, myth, and art’s wild force, they batter down the walls of closed reality and seek the open space of their heart’s desire.

Historically, this search has taken many forms. Some dreamed of an Aladdin’s Lamp; some of the Open Sesame to Ali Baba’s treasure cave; others sought the alchemy of Reason’s search—the Philosopher’s Stone that would convert all baser metals to the treasured gold. Still other’s sensed the magic of a special place—a Shining City on a Hill, the wondrous lure of Utopia’s calm streets and measured ways.

These dreams are as old as man, as young as childhood’s sweet imaginings. They are a part of all of us.

Yet while we dream, around us is a Miracle awaiting recognition. We know part of it. It’s called America, and we think we know its measure and its place. It has been a living force now for over two hundred years. And those of us who know the privilege of its Spirit’s call, its freedoms and its special ways, believe we know and value what we have.

Perhaps we do.

Yet to feel the vibrant fierceness of its call, to feel the sense of wild, free glory in its air, to capture in our hearts and minds that sense of joy, of triumph and of truth that is America, we must go back in time to when this great expanse of land was Promise Incarnate, to when this continent was a living place on which to set the Form of the Ideal.

We must go back in time to when a group of men stood at the brink of a wonder that surpassed all dreams of old. Back to when a group of men—committing their lives and fortunes and their souls—found the words that could express the finest thoughts of mankind. They made their Declaration and their pledge, fought their war and won their place in time, wrote their Constitution setting forth the form, added the Amendments specifying Rights, separated powers, guaranteed defense, set the checks and balances. They declared the wide Frontier and sent forth the men and women who would make the land their own—a Nation new to Man.

In giant steps we spread across a truly promised land. We faced the growing world with confidence and strength. We took an untamed land and made it bear the Honey and the Wax—the Sweetness and the Light. We built the city and the church, the temple and the gold rush town, the schoolhouse and the wild saloon, the farm and ranch and railroad line, the bridge and road and barbed-wire fence. The land demanded courage and repaid it thousand-fold.

There was real metal gold for some to find, but truer gold was in the folk themselves. The storied Melting Pot did not make everyone alike—it made us all American. The Dream burned with a raw, fierce heat. At its best it was the storied crucible: Its searing heat stripping away the dross to leave the pure untarnished gold of Man’s true worth. At its best, it was superb.

And at its worst, as with the world itself, no place escaped the cannon and the lash. Barbarians have always lived with us, no place is free from suffering and wrong. Our continent of promise and of grace did not escape its share of dreadful acts. The world’s wrongs had endured so long and in so many realms that it seemed natural and normal to life. The ugliness and evil of history’s tales, of baseless prejudice and hate, of mindless cruelties and of guilt . . . . Had we been gods . . . . But we were not. And so the answers had to come with Time, with bitter fighting and with thought, with reasoned argument and rage. There was a whole wide world of slavery and vice, of cruelty and of hate, of pogroms and of pain—and we were not immune from any of the ways of Man. There were those among us who lived an age-old human horror—slavery—yet the forces were already there to drive the coming Emancipation.

For America was something new and strange. It carried in its soul a set of new beliefs. It looked to a Creator and a Cause; it looked to Natural Laws that could not be abridged; it spoke of the Rights of Man. And by defining “Man” in ever widening arcs of searching Truth, the strength of these beliefs expanded through four-score years until “Man” began to encompass all that it should have all along. For truly there is but one race of us: The Human Race. And finally it composed itself of Men and Women both.

Those who formed America could not at first fully heed the terms of the Miracle they had forged on the anvil of the Enlightenment. But the contradictions between dream and reality could not stand for long. It took less than a century after the Revolution for the inner forces of the true America to explode against the living lie. For America could’t tolerate the nightmare of a people still enslaved. Shuddering in mid-Dream, we fought a Civil War that gave us scars we carry to this day. America made us fight that war. It called forth sacrifice because it was committed to its cause. It reached within it for its Soul—and found it there. The wonder of America is that within its being, contained within the meaning of the Dream, it carries all the form of Truth, and seeks it out. We did not need to look outside America to find the path we followed—it was there all the time. We only needed to make our own commitment to its rigors. We needed only to accept the terms within the Dream. It is mankind’s destiny to be free. The Dream compels Reality, though it may take generations to fulfill its promise.

And because it is a Dream that’s also Real, America translates myth and legend into fact. Aladdin’s Lamp met those who made their way through Ellis Island. The Open Sesame to Ali Baba’s treasure cave re-formed itself as education’s mighty reach. The Philosopher’s Stone that had been sought so long—the secret that would change the basest metals into gold—this Stone became the bedrock of the American values that we shared; became the firm foundation of the family and the law; the cornerstone of every house of worship in the land; the building blocks of which our government was formed.

The Shining City on the Hill was ours to make.

Trackposted to Outside the Beltway, Blog @ MoreWhat.com, Perri Nelson's Website, Big Dog's Weblog, Adam's Blog, DragonLady's World, The Bullwinkle Blog, Leaning Straight Up, The Amboy Times, Conservative Cat, Pursuing Holiness, third world county, stikNstein... has no mercy, The World According to Carl, Pirate's Cove, Blue Star Chronicles, The Right Nation, Wake Up America, High Desert Wanderer, Right Voices, The Yankee Sailor, and Gone Hollywood, thanks to Linkfest Haven Deluxe.

A lot of medical emergencies hit my family in the Fourth Quarter of 2007, and I’m glad to be free of the whole year now. Even the final lingering cough I have is reassuring because it’s so much better now than it was three weeks ago when it was at its worst.

It’s clear that this upcoming year is going to be extraordinary. Already the presidential campaign is crazy, promising a lot more entertainment and suspense than we usually have in an election year. It’s fascinating to watch identity politics and political correctness turning back against Democrats, and it’s becoming all too clear that we are going to find out a lot about ourselves and our conservative beliefs as we find our way through the burgeoning labyrinth of Republican primary and caucus pathfinding.

The 21st Century was born in the contradictions of a year in which the tried-and-true gave way to a scary uncertainty. When I went to sleep on the evening of the day I voted for a president, for the first time in my life I didn’t know the outcome of that vote when I finally closed my eyes. When I woke up the next morning and turned on the television I was staggered to see that there was still no definitive outcome. As the day progressed it became perfectly clear that there would not be an answer for many days, even weeks. I felt totally disoriented and even angry that something I trusted as an absolute had suddenly fallen apart.

Every year since then has been evidence of a growing schism with the past. This year especially, with the election of a new president, we will be electing a future that will carry within it the seeds of a profound change in the human condition. With the miracles of science, technology, genetics, computers, communication—tools of potential unlike any mankind has ever known—we will either use our strengths to create wonders or we will be destroyed as our enemies use our weaknesses against us. A century from now our children’s children’s children will look back at us with the deepest gratitude or in contempt and hatred, and they will look out at their own future with a glowing optimism or a dark despair.

The decisions that will be made this year, the arguments propounded and those torn apart, the paths chosen and those left barricaded or simply unexplored, the way the ground is prepared and the types of seeds that are finally planted, will determine the lives and deaths of countless hundreds of millions of people now and to come. The United States of America is Western Civilization’s Last Best Hope, and we Americans are the ones who will determine its future course.

It would be nice if we managed to get it right.

Trackposted to Blog @ MoreWhat.com, Mark My Words, Rosemary's Thoughts, Adam's Blog, Right Truth, Big Dog's Weblog, Leaning Straight Up, Conservative Cat, Adeline and Hazel, third world county, Allie is Wired, DragonLady's World, The World According to Carl, Pirate's Cove, Blue Star Chronicles, Celebrity Smack, The Pink Flamingo, Right Voices, The Yankee Sailor, and CatSynth.com, thanks to Linkfest Haven Deluxe.