What Hath God Wrought

“Not all Americans endorsed their country’s imperial destiny of territorial expansion. For some people, the Christian religion provided a fulcrum for criticism of American national aggrandizement rather than an endorsement of it. America’s national mission should be one of democratic example rather than conquest, they insisted.”

The quote leverages contrast to delineate the differing perspectives within the American populace regarding expansionism. The use of “fulcrum for criticism” metaphorically suggests that religion, typically a foundation for unity and support, here acts as a pivot point for scrutinizing national ambitions, indicating a moral and ethical contemplation among dissenters. This metaphor extends to juxtapose the idea of a “democratic example” with “conquest,” framing the debate as one between moral leadership and aggressive expansion, and illuminating the ideological rifts that challenge the notion of a homogenous American ethos regarding expansion.

“Americans at the time did not see their great victory as meaningless. What they chose to make of it is instructive. They did not emphasize the fact that the battle had been fought after peace had been agreed. They seldom rejoiced in the multiracial, multiethnic nature of the winning army. Neither did they celebrate the technological know-how that enabled their artillery to perform so well. Instead the public seized upon the notion that western riflemen, untrained but sharp-eyed, had defeated the arrogant British. In fact, primary responsibility for the American victory lay with the artillery, not with the frontier marksmen of legend.”

This quote exemplifies irony, where the actual instrumental factors—technological prowess and a diverse fighting force—are overshadowed by the romanticized valor of “western riflemen.” This romanticization acts as a selective memory, favoring a narrative that aligns with the mythos of rugged individualism over the more complex reality of collective effort and technological innovation. The deliberate omission of the battle’s anachronistic timing and the diverse composition of the forces in public celebration reflects a selective national memory and underscores an implicit preference for narratives that reinforce cherished national identities. This narrative choice exposes a discrepancy between reality and the constructed national mythology, inviting reflection on historical memory and identity formation processes.

“For all the political liberty that American institutions and ideology promised to adult white men, in practical terms most lives were disciplined and limited by the economic necessities of a harsh environment and the cultural constraints of a small community.”

Again, Howe utilizes irony, this time to highlight the juxtaposition between the idealized freedom enshrined in American institutions and the reality of daily life. This ironic contrast underscores the gap between the lofty ideals of liberty and the pragmatic limitations imposed by economic and social conditions. The literary device deepens the exploration of American identity, emphasizing the complexities and contradictions inherent in pursuing freedom within a constrained societal framework.

“In the America of 1815, a network of unpaved short roads connected family farms with nearby towns or docks on navigable streams. Seldom more than rutted trails, these ‘country roads’ were muddy when it rained, dusty when dry, and frequently impassable.”

Describing the condition of early American roads, Howe employs imagery to bring the challenges of travel and transport to life. Words like “rutted trails,” “muddy,” “dusty,” and “frequently impassable” paint a picture of the physical obstacles that early Americans faced, grounding the narrative in tangible realities. This use of imagery illustrates the period’s logistical limitations and symbolizes the broader struggles of a nation forging connections across its vast and varied landscapes.

“The framers of the American Constitution, far from favoring parties, had hoped to prevent their emergence. Although political parties had nevertheless developed in the young republic as a result of the bitter policy debates of the 1790s, no one approved of them in principle. In his Farewell Address, Washington had warned his countrymen to beware “the baneful effects of the spirit of party.”

The passage uses historical irony to reflect on the unintended consequences of the political system they established. Despite the framers’ explicit warnings against factionalism, the emergence of political parties became a defining feature of the republic. This irony highlights the dynamic and unpredictable nature of political evolution, illustrating how the practicalities of governance often diverge from the original intentions of its founders, and drawing attention to the inherent tension between ideal governance models and political realities.

“Not that everyone settled disputes by legal means. The Old Southwest was a violent society, even by American standards. Institutions of local government could not be set up fast enough to keep pace with needs. In the first few years of settlement, law and order might constitute more an aspiration than a reality.”

Howe employs contrast to differentiate between the ideal of law and order and the reality of its implementation. This contrast amplifies the rugged and lawless image of early American frontier life and subtly critiques the inefficacy of governmental institutions in newly settled territories. By stating that “law and order might constitute more an aspiration than a reality,” the narrative implies a significant gap between societal goals and actual living conditions, offering a view of American expansionism and its challenges.

“Americans eventually came to think of the separation of church and state as one of the achievements of the Revolution, and as guaranteed by the Bill of Rights. Actually, these common beliefs are but half-truths. The Revolution separated church and state in those places where the Church of England had been established in colonial times. But in several New England states, Congregationalist religious establishments remained in place.”

The quote exhibits irony to challenge the conventional understanding of one of America’s foundational principles. By presenting commonly held beliefs about the separation as “half-truths,” the narrative reveals a complexity in historical developments often glossed over in simplified narratives. The distinction drawn between the general assumption and the specific realities of religious establishments in New England underscores the nuanced and often contradictory nature of American ideals versus practices, inviting a reevaluation of historical narratives.

“Nietzsche ignored the liberating strain in the Christian message, but many African Americans heard it. Allen’s religious metaphor expressed it well: ‘My chains flew off.”

In discussing Nietzsche’s oversight of Christianity’s liberating potential, especially for African Americans, the metaphor (“My chains flew off”) encapsulates the transformative power of faith as perceived by those enslaved. This metaphor contrasts with Nietzsche’s skepticism and conveys the hope and sense of liberation that faith inspired in the face of bondage. The choice of metaphor here is used to transform an abstract spiritual experience into a tangible image of emancipation, thereby highlighting the impact of religious belief on the quest for freedom among African Americans.

“The scrupulous, somber Adams might not seem to offer much of a target for salacious arrows, but Jacksonians did not let this inhibit their imagination.”

Imagery and personification come to the forefront, painting a picture of political discourse. The phrase “salacious arrows” personifies political attacks, imbuing them with a life and intent of their own, while the contrast between Adams’s “scrupulous, somber” nature (also note the alliteration) and the imaginative vigor of his opponents underscores the differences in public perception and political strategy. This juxtaposition highlights the intensity of political rivalry and reflects the broader theme of perception versus reality in political narratives.

“Americans were by no means alone in thinking of their country as an example from which others could learn. Foreign observers also often viewed the United States as an indicator of future developments in their own countries.”

Juxtaposition places side by side the internal view of America as a beacon of democratic ideals and the similar, yet independently formed, views of foreign observers. The juxtaposition highlights the universal appeal and curiosity about American democracy, emphasizing its role as a potentially prophetic model for future global developments. This literary technique enriches the narrative by revealing the shared yet diverse perspectives on America’s experiment with democracy, thereby underscoring the international resonance of the American political and social experiment.

“The occasion of Lafayette’s Second Coming evoked rhetoric usually reserved for that of Christ.”

The comparison of Lafayette’s return to the United States with a messianic “Second Coming” employs metaphor to elevate the event beyond a mere historical occurrence, suggesting a transcendent significance. This metaphor dramatizes Lafayette’s visit and implicitly comments on the emotional and ideological ties between America and one of its Revolutionary heroes. The choice of this religiously charged language captures the fervor and reverence meeting Lafayette, reflecting the period’s intertwining of political, cultural, and spiritual aspirations.

“The attitude of the missionaries must be characterized carefully if we are to understand their role. Passionately devoted to the propagation of Protestant Christianity and Western civilization, they took scarcely any interest in Native culture. Yet at the same time they believed implicitly in the rationality, moral responsibility, and equal human worth of their Indian hosts.”

This depiction of missionaries’ attitudes utilizes a contrast to reveal the complexity of their motivations and actions. On one hand, their commitment to spreading Protestant Christianity and Western civilization illustrates a single-minded pursuit of what they perceive as a noble cause. On the other hand, their lack of interest in Indigenous cultures, juxtaposed with their belief in the rationality and equal worth of Indigenous peoples, creates a paradoxical stance. This contrast underscores a nuanced critique of missionary efforts, suggesting that while their intentions may be rooted in a belief in universal human value, their actions reflect a selective engagement with the humanity of those they seek to convert.

“That the modern twenty-dollar Federal Reserve Note should bear Andrew Jackson’s portrait is richly ironic. Not only did the Old Hero disapprove of paper money, he deliberately destroyed the national banking system of his day.”

The observation about Andrew Jackson’s portrait on the $20 bill employs irony to critique historical memory and the complexities of American values. Jackson’s well-documented opposition to paper currency and his efforts to dismantle the national banking system contrast his image adorning modern currency. This irony highlights the sometimes contradictory nature of how historical figures are commemorated and prompts reflection on the evolution of economic policies and the selective nature of historical homage.

“Indian Removal reveals much more about Jacksonian politics than just its racism. In the first place it illustrates imperialism, that is, a determination to expand geographically and economically, imposing an alien will upon subject peoples and commandeering their resources.”

The juxtaposition in the quote illuminates the contrast between the overtly acknowledged racism of Jacksonian politics and its perhaps less recognized imperialistic ambitions. This technique places seemingly disparate motivations side by side for examination. Additionally, the mention of “Jacksonian politics” and “Indian Removal” implicitly alludes to historical events and policies, invoking the broader context of Andrew Jackson’s presidency and the specific government actions taken under his leadership to forcibly relocate Indigenous tribes.

“Why did farm parents, tired at the end of a day’s work, make time to teach their children? The primary motive seems not to have been commercial or political, still less to facilitate the children’s upward social mobility. It was religious. Although Protestant piety did not produce free common schools in the rural and individualistic South, the way it did in the villages of New England, Protestantism still promoted literacy in the South.”

Howe employs contrast to highlight the primary motivation behind farm parents’ dedication to their children’s education. The contrast between expected commercial or political motives and the actual religious drive underscores Protestantism’s influence on literacy, even in regions where its impact on the educational system differed significantly from that in New England. This contrast reveals the varied consequences of religious beliefs on social practices and illustrates how intertwined religious motivations were with daily life and parental responsibilities in different parts of America.

“From a modern point of view, Van Buren’s embrace of laissez-faire seems paradoxical. The hard-money Jacksonian constituents he was courting did not oppose government intervention in the economy out of any preference for commercial values. On the contrary, they deeply distrusted large businesses, especially banks, and wanted to make sure government did them no favors.”

Despite courting hard-money Jacksonian constituents, Van Buren’s alignment with laissez-faire economics is described as paradoxical, exploring the complexity and seeming contradictions within early American political ideology. This paradox highlights the positions held by early American politicians and their constituents, who could simultaneously harbor a distrust of large businesses and a desire for minimal government intervention in the economy.

“The Victorian ideology of separate gender ‘spheres,’ a private one for women and a public one for men, while never fully realized in practice, reflected the consequences of industrialization and its separation of workplace and home.”

The metaphor of “spheres” conveys the idea of separate, distinct realms assigned to men and women. This metaphor reduces complex social structures within a simple image, making the abstract concept of gendered expectations more tangible and understandable. By employing this metaphor, the narrative communicates the ideological division and its implications on the lived experiences of individuals during the Victorian period, highlighting how these “spheres” influenced the organization of social life and the distribution of power and responsibility.

“Whigs had a positive conception of liberty; they treasured it as a means to the formation of individual character and a good society. Democrats, by contrast, held a negative conception of liberty; they saw it as freeing the common (white) man from the oppressive burdens of an aristocracy.”

Howe again utilizes contrast to elucidate the ideological divide between the two groups. This contrast highlights how the same concept of liberty can be interpreted and valued differently within political discourse. By presenting these opposing views side by side, the narrative invites reflection on the multifaceted nature of liberty and its implications for individual character and societal structure.

“This victory, Douglass recalled with satisfaction, ‘revived within me a sense of my own manhood.’ He had brought the principles of human dignity and equality from the pages where he had read about them into real life.”

The recounting of Douglass’s triumph employs metaphor to translate abstract principles into tangible experience. Describing the renewal of his “sense of my own manhood” as a victory underscores the transformative power of asserting human dignity and equality. This metaphorical victory bridges the gap between the theoretical ideals Douglass read about and their practical application, emphasizing such principles’ personal and social impact when actualized. There’s also an implicit personification in how Howe describes the principles of human dignity and equality as being brought “from the pages where he had read about them into real life.” This personification lends agency to abstract concepts, suggesting that these principles can actively influence and transform reality.

“The defenders of the Alamo against overwhelming odds passed into the realm of heroic epic, along with the Spartans at Thermopylae and Roland at Roncesvalles.”

The comparison of the Alamo’s defenders to the Spartans at Thermopylae and Roland at Roncesvalles invokes allusion, drawing upon well-known historical and literary figures to elevate the event into the pantheon of heroic epics. This allusion magnifies the significance of the defenders’ actions and places the Alamo within a larger narrative tradition of valor and sacrifice. By associating the event with these legendary figures, the narrative imbues it with a more timeless quality, suggesting that the valor displayed at the Alamo resonates with universal themes of heroism and resistance against overwhelming odds.

“More recently, some historians have carefully examined the likely consequences of a Clay victory in 1844 and concluded that it would probably have avoided the Civil War of the 1860s. We too readily assume the inevitability of everything that has happened. The decisions that electorates and politicians make have real consequences.”

By highlighting the “careful” reconsideration of historical events and their contingent nature, the statement underlines the often overlooked reality that decisions and actions shape history and are far from predetermined. This ironic stance toward the presumed inevitability of historical developments encourages reevaluating how society understands the past, emphasizing the significance of choices and the fluidity of historical outcomes.

“‘Manifest destiny’ served as both a label and a justification for policies that might otherwise have simply been called American expansionism or imperialism. The assumption of white supremacy permeated these policies. It never occurred to U.S. policymakers to take seriously the claims of nonwhite or racially mixed societies to territorial integrity.”

This critique of Manifest Destiny employs euphemism and irony to dissect the ideology supporting American expansionism. By labeling and justifying imperialistic actions with a term that connotes divine sanction and inevitable progress, the narrative exposes the underlying racial prejudices that guided US policy. The euphemistic use of Manifest Destiny to mask the aggressive nature of expansionism is ironized against the reality of its implementation, revealing a dissonance between the noble veneer of destiny and the brutal practices of imperialism, thereby critiquing the moral and ethical foundations of American expansion.

“The occupation of so much of Mexico’s vast territory by a comparatively small army in less than two years represented an astonishing feat of arms. The extent of this military achievement has never been fully appreciated, because Americans preferred to believe that their national expansion occurred automatically, as the fulfillment of an inevitable and plainly manifest destiny. Once over, the war against Mexico was conveniently forgotten, along with the bitter partisan divisions it provoked among Americans themselves.

Howe continues to leverage irony, this time to contrast the military achievements with Americans’ preference for a mythologized, destiny-driven expansion narrative. This irony highlights the disconnection between a relatively small army’s tangible, strategic successes and the national inclination to attribute expansion to a preordained manifest destiny, sidelining the complex realities of war and internal divisions. The irony questions the collective memory and historical narratives that prioritize destiny over the nuanced truths of conquest and conflict, encouraging a reevaluation of how history is remembered and valorized.