Tag Archives: Lincoln

lincoln-debate

Wrong-headed criticisms of Abraham Lincoln

Recently on Fox Business Network, former New Jersey Superior Court Judge Andrew Napolitano showcased his historical contrarianism by attacking the most revered presidents in U.S. history, including Abraham Lincoln. The judge declared that the American Civil War was Lincoln’s fault: that slavery had been on its last legs and that Lincoln’s decisions actually set back progress by a century.

Napolitano is a well-educated man and obviously came to this opinion after actually studying the topic, but his assertions were not unlike those made by many students of history — at least the ones who don’t dig too deep. Napolitano’s opinions are not accurate, and more indicative of a personal bias toward skepticism. And while skepticism is healthy and good for debate, Napolitano’s limited and factually erroneous views of our 16th president show how a need to believe the worst in people can easily lead to missing out on the whole story.

Napolitano contended, in part, that “[i]nstead of allowing it to die, or helping it to die, or even purchasing the slaves and then freeing them, which would have cost a lot less money than the Civil War cost, Lincoln set about on the most murderous war in American history in which over 750,000 soldiers and civilians — all Americans — died…”

Napolitano’s comments are part of a troubling trend in interpreting the Civil War. In an attempt to seem open-minded and free-thinking, smart people are arguing against the grain. While these antithetical arguments sometimes bring out valid new perspectives, this view of Lincoln and the Civil War does not. Unfortunately, Napolitano is not alone in his “scholasticism.”

On a recent episode of Real Time with Bill Maher, the brash host showed his skepticism about lionized personalities as well by asserting that Lincoln was a racist. Maher’s guest, basketball great Kareem Abdul-Jabar, stood up for Honest Abe, just as Jon Stewart did against Napolitano. To his credit, Maher didn’t press Abdul-Jabar to reverse his position. However, the opinions expressed by Maher and Napolitano are shared by a lot of educated people who misunderstand Lincoln’s actions and ascribe sinister intentions and dark thoughts to one of America’s greatest heroes.

The problem is one of historical comprehension. Lincoln has been apotheosized in the nearly century and a half since his death. This deification is certainly deserved, but it also causes us to attribute superhuman traits to a real man — a man who faced great odds and triumphed. For those of us who study history, this idolization has caused a backlash.

When we see comments made by Lincoln in his pre-presidential Senate campaign debates with Stephen A. Douglas, we are shocked at their racist nature. When we hear about his desire not to end slavery but only to save the Union, we are hit with a gut punch, left wondering if there have ever been true heroes. Unfortunately, this is where otherwise intelligent men like Maher leave the conversation. The problem with this analysis of history, however, is that it only tells half the story.

Let’s first look at Lincoln’s purported racism. The most frequently cited statement in support of the claim that the Great Emancipator was no better than the people of his time is from Lincoln’s debate with Douglas in Charleston, Illinois, in 1858:

I will say then that I am not, nor ever have been, in favor of bringing about in any way the social and political equality of the white and black races, [applause] — that I am not nor ever have been in favor of making voters or jurors of negroes, nor of qualifying them to hold office, nor to intermarry with white people; and I will say in addition to this that there is a physical difference between the white and black races which I believe will forever forbid the two races living together on terms of social and political equality. And inasmuch as they cannot so live, while they do remain together there must be the position of superior and inferior, and I as much as any other man am in favor of having the superior position assigned to the white race.

Harsh. It’s easy to see why some view these words as evidence against Lincoln. But these must be viewed in context.

Lincoln was, before anything else, a politician and a legal scholar. And despite our current attitudes, being a politician is not inherently bad. Many political operatives have been able to use their manipulative abilities to do great things for people. Lincoln was one such operative, and he was using his skills as an orator and a debater to slowly move the center position of the argument about slavery closer to the position of the abolitionists’.

Lincoln learned in his legal career that, by not objecting to every detail of an argument, he could more easily win that argument by only clinging to the aspect that was most important. If he conceded the alleged inferiority of the African race and offered that intermarriage should not be permitted, his argument that slavery should be abolished would be viewed as the bare minimum argument, and therefore, the moderate stance.

The future president was also debating with the shining star of the Democratic Party. Douglas, known at the time as the advocate for popular sovereignty, was pushing his philosophy as a way to answer the difficult questions about the expansion of slavery. When states like Kansas applied for statehood, the U.S. Congress was left gridlocked in debate, time and time again, about whether or not slavery should be allowed there. Douglas’ answer was that the inhabitants of the state should be allowed to choose whether or not the “peculiar institution” could exist within their boundaries. At the time, that was considered the moderate position.

Lincoln had to run against this supposedly moderate man while wearing the label of “Republican,” a party which, at the time, was considered a radical and “black” party. Lincoln, like good politicians of today, had to play down his more “radical” viewpoints in order to appeal to a broader population. As such, he said things that could be construed today as anti-black and racist.

When answering Douglas’ charge about Lincoln wanting complete equality for “the negro,” Lincoln answered: “I do not understand that because I do not want a negro woman for a slave I must necessarily want her for a wife.” By stating his view this way, Lincoln was not saying that there was anything wrong with mixed race marriage — though it is doubtful he cared either way — but was instead making Douglas’ complaints seem absurd and out of touch. By changing the terms of the debate, Lincoln was making the abolition of slavery appear to be a more palatable proposal. Lincoln was nothing if not a moderate, and his political decisions and speeches reflect that.

At the time of Lincoln’s political career, one solution to the slavery problem that was advocated strongly by abolitionists was the colonization of American blacks in Africa. Lincoln supported this venture even through the beginning of the Civil War. This support has been seen by some as further proof of Lincoln’s racism. However, this is another case of not understanding context.

Lincoln’s statements were colored by what actions were politically and logistically feasible. His ideas were pragmatic, and abolishing slavery in the United States when the South held such disproportionate power would have been impossible. The colonization proposals were often made by men who wanted abolition, but who realized that unchaining thousands of men and women after lifetimes of brutality and oppression would lead to great civil unrest and, possibly, ethnic war. By simply removing the former slaves from the continent, the horrendous institution could be destroyed, and former slaveholders would not have to fear for their lives.

However, slavery was the backbone of the American economy, especially in the South, and not even the $3 billion it would cost to buy the freedom of the slaves would be able to persuade the men who profited from the blood and sweat of their fellow human beings. Again, Napolitano’s claim that Lincoln could have simply bought the freedom of the African race is completely off the mark, as the president would have been more than happy to perform such an action had it been possible.

Lincoln’s election as president in 1860 caused an enormous backlash from Southern reactionaries despite Lincoln consistently stating that he had intended to leave slavery alone. Lincoln, in fact, believed he was constitutionally bound to defend the institution despite his personal hatred of it.

“Honest Abe” was very much a constitutionalist and intended to follow the document according to his interpretation, even when he didn’t support what he believed it said. As a result, he promised to honor his duty — to citizens of both North and South, meaning that he had to follow even the laws he despised, like the Fugitive Slave Act. Since Lincoln did not acknowledge secession as any form of legitimate act, he considered himself to still be the president of even those states in open rebellion. And, as treason is a crime, Lincoln responded in the way his constitutional oath required of him.

The idea that Lincoln started the Civil War is absurd. With seven states already in active rebellion by the time he took office, Lincoln had to respond quickly and in a way that would give him the advantage. The first step was to simply wait for the Confederacy to become the aggressors. By sending federal aid to Fort Sumter, Lincoln was directly challenging the South’s claim to sovereignty. The Confederates fell for the trap, firing on the Fort, giving the Union the moral edge, and helping to rally Northerners who were still indifferent toward the secession.

Does this tactical maneuver mean that Lincoln should be implicated for starting the war? No. He was acting in a constitutional manner, doing the job he had sworn to do. The South was actively breaking the law through secession, and Lincoln, as chief executive, was responding. In fact, by waiting for the South to shoot first, the president was taking a much more lenient position than could have reasonably been expected.

Lincoln continued to move the country forward through his moderation. It’s true that the “Emancipation Proclamation” actually freed no slaves, but it didn’t have to; it is not as though its inability to be enforced makes it a less remarkable document. The proclamation, along with the more romantic “Gettysburg Address,” changed the war. It gave Southern blacks something to fight for by granting them freedom when the war would end. The proclamation may not have directly freed anyone, but it removed any doubt that the Civil War was about ending slavery — ironically causing the South’s fears to be realized. Further, it made abolition into a reasonable solution for more of the American population, which set the stage for the complete emancipation brought on by the 13th Amendment.

Napolitano’s criticisms of Lincoln are nothing new. It’s easy to take the Great Emancipator’s quotes out of context, like Maher did, and call Lincoln a racist. It’s easy to call Lincoln a warmonger when ratings or provocation are more important than the facts. But to do so is wrong.

Lincoln had a goal in mind and worked slowly toward it using the means available to him as president. By moving slowly, asserting the “moderate” view that the African race was inferior, waiting for the South to fire first, refusing to free slaves for the first few years, then technically freeing none, he opened up the possibilities for change that resulted in three powerful amendments to the U.S. Constitution, as well as millions of newly freed Americans. Lincoln’s actions changed the world for the better.

If you want to know more about Lincoln, read Gary Wills’ Lincoln at Gettysburg and Doris Kearns Goodwin’s Team of Rivals, and watch Steven Spielberg’s Lincoln. Pay special attention to the Cabinet meeting scene in which the president explains why a 13th amendment to the Constitution is necessary. That scene, and the movie on the whole, perfectly captures Lincoln’s moderate philosophy of governing.

“I leave you, hoping that the lamp of liberty will burn in your bosoms until there shall no longer be a doubt that all men are created free and equal.”
— Abraham Lincoln, July 10, 1858, Chicago, Illinois.

poor-george

Star Wars was robbed by Academy in 1977

Star Wars is a cultural phenomenon. Lightsabers, droids, Wookiees, and the Death Star are part of our everyday conversations. The Washington National Cathedral is adorned with a gargoyle of what Americans voted to be the epitome of evil: Darth Vader. And almost every single piece of media made in the last decade, in my experience, contains at least one reference to a Star Wars movie.

Star Wars is easily one of the most successful franchises in world history, yet it is so much more than that. The Star Wars films have inspired generations of young people to dream and to fight back against injustice. They taught us to realize our places as individuals, while remaining integral parts of a much larger universe. The original, historic chapter of the film series, however, is the ultimate example of Academy Award oversight.

Each year, when the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences awards excellence in film, only one movie can take home the top honor: Best Picture. It’s no secret that the Academy naturally favors a certain type of movie. And that is OK. As much as I love Superbad, it’s certainly not the type of movie that should be named Best Picture.

Often, a tremendous work of art is given the nod, much like this year’s 12 Years a Slave. Sometimes, however, the best film of the year gets overlooked in favor of a Hollywood vanity piece or a good movie that will be forgotten in a few years. But some types of movies — in certain genres or with certain characteristics — seem doomed, however good, right from the start.

Seeing that a few comedies have won Best Picture was actually quite jarring. In my time, every winner has been a period piece or a film that raises awareness to illness. These films are often heart-wrenching masterpieces that did not get the proper box office respect. But the Academy’s love affair with these true, or at least almost true, stories neglects original writing and punishes those who make creative films.

Blockbusters are typically big moneymakers. Recently, Nate Silver’s FiveThirtyEight.com identified 11 features that define a film as a blockbuster. Those 388 films are listed here, beginning with number 62, Jaws; how many Best Picture winners can you pick out? You won’t find many. Only three Best Picture winners have grossed over $200 million domestically (in the United States), and only six winners are in the top 200 domestically grossing films of all-time. Does the Academy have a natural aversion to blockbuster films?

Examine the Best Picture nominee list closely. Star Wars is one of only six science fiction films in eight decades to receive a Best Picture nomination. I understand that science fiction does not typically stand out for nuance or impressively written scripts. In a lot of instances, a science fiction film shouldn’t get the honor of Best Picture. Did The Avengers deserve to win Best Picture? Absolutely not. That doesn’t prevent it from being one of my all-time favorite movies. But I have a special affection for hero stories and movies that stretch my imagination.

Other blockbusters and science fiction films, however, are more than blow-em-up spectacles. Unfortunately, I think the prejudice against genre films has led to some egregious oversights from the Academy. Escapism can create movies just as compelling as reflection can. That brings us back to the original Star Wars film. This masterpiece was a victim of the Academy’s predisposition against films about the extraordinary, and was ultimately passed over for the top award. If Star Wars didn’t win in 1977, I have to ask: can a science fiction movie ever win Best Picture?

Star Wars defied conventional Academy practices by actually receiving a Best Picture nomination in the first place. The film even took home seven trophies, primarily for its innovative approach to filmmaking. But at the end of the night, the statuette for Best Picture was awarded to Woody Allen’s Annie Hall. Don’t get me wrong. Annie Hall is a tremendous film. The movie is hilarious from beginning to end and holds up even after 37 years. It’s a rare older movie that feels like it could have been made today. And it defies awards expectations of its own as a comedy, which is so rare to see honored with an Oscar. It is also not nearly as innovative as Star Wars.

Consider: which movie has made a greater impact on world culture, Annie Hall or Star Wars? I challenge you to name any movie that has made a larger impact than Star Wars. But again, I understand if you disagree about cultural relevance being a factor in naming Best Picture. That is also an impact that cannot be fully measured for many years after a film’s release. So let’s dissect the iconic film for its specific merits.

In my view, a movie should be graded on plot, characters, acting, world building, creativity, innovation, subject matter, and historical relevance. Annie Hall gets high marks for several of these categories, while Star Wars is superior to most films in nearly every one.

Star Wars is, perhaps, the most technically innovative movie of all time. Sure, it doesn’t look like Avatar, but the original movie was made before computers were even a factor in filmmaking. In fact, the production of Star Wars helped to create the computer generated imagery that made movies like Gravity and The Avengers possible.

George Lucas, with very little money available to make his vision come to life, managed to create an entire universe of societies, spacecraft, and sentient beings of peculiar appearance, using only models and costumes. Lucas created the Wookiee, the Jawa, dozens of background alien species, and two legendary droids named C-3PO and R2-D2 without any help from the CGI that would eventually become synonymous with Lucasfilm and its spinoff company, Pixar.

However, these technical leaps don’t necessarily make a film worthy of Best Picture. If they did, Gravity would have been the 2013 winner. Thankfully, it wasn’t, but that’s because the story of Gravity, while interesting, was shallow and lacked any kind of memorable character. That might also be one of the potential weaknesses of Star Wars. Its characters may not be as complex as something from Shakespeare — but they are just as recognizable, if not more so. Are there any movie characters more well known than Luke, Han, Leia, Vader, or the droids?

Again, popularity does not mean a film is necessarily good. I can admit that Obi-Wan never made me cry like Oskar Schindler, and Luke isn’t perhaps as inspiring as Abraham Lincoln. But these characters live in a galaxy different from our own, and yet they still manage to make us feel as though we have joined them on their journey.

Luke Skywalker is offered as a stand-in for the viewer. He is a kid from a simple place looking to leave his world behind him when an unexpected turn of events leads him to the stars. He is motivated by a desire to accomplish something, and he believes the Galactic Empire needs to be brought down. He is a man who longs for his father, aspiring to be like him without even knowing who he was. It is a story familiar to every boy and girl who feels they are destined for greater things.

Luke has to come into his own while learning from his mentor, Ben Kenobi. Ben becomes a surrogate father — not just to Luke, but to those of us who want to believe we can achieve greatness. Ben’s climactic fight with his former protege, Darth Vader, ends with the mentor’s sacrifice before the eyes of his apprentice. Luke then has to rise up and become the new hero the Galaxy needs. It is the advice of his mentor, along with the assistance of his new friend, the roguish Han Solo, plus his newfound faith in his own ability and the world around him that leads Luke to an immeasurable victory as he brings down the planet-destroying Death Star.

Sure, Luke isn’t facing disease or dealing with being a slave, but he’s a young man fighting a literal galaxy of problems, dealing with his inadequacies and yearning to know about his parents and find himself. Perhaps the acting isn’t on par with Daniel Day-Lewis or Gary Oldman (though Oldman had been rumored to be joining the cast of the next Star Wars flick), but there is never a scene in the original movie that takes the audience out of the moment through bad acting or unbelievable sets. What Lucas and the actors did was create an unbelievable world and make it believable. That type of talent should be honored.

The Star Wars films aren’t overtly about the human condition and they don’t raise awareness to some controversial topic, but they do follow a time-honored story structure, one that has been imitated many times since and has been honored in other, non-sci-fi films. Star Wars is about the hero’s journey, a narrative technique that is rooted in ancient mythology.

As explained by mythologist Joseph Campbell, the hero’s journey is the arc that follows a hero from the common to the extraordinary. This hero is often an everyman on an unlikely quest, an epic campaign to overcome the greatest odds. The hero will grow as a person either for surviving the trek or for dying a legend. These stories also often follow the friends of the protagonist as they come into their own and help the hero defeat the great evil. The hero’s journey may not involve human suffering in a way we can always relate to, but that doesn’t make a film any less qualified to be considered the Best Picture of the year.

Perhaps you believe the Best Picture winner should speak to something beyond what appears on the screen. As I said, great movies must have compelling subject matter. A Best Picture winner should teach a lesson and make us think about how we live our lives. Star Wars, with its philosophical underpinnings and questions on war and proper government, accomplishes all of this in spades.

Star Wars is packed with philosophy. Questions of destiny and the great interconnectedness of all life fill the movie from beginning to end. The Force, introduced in the first Star Wars movie, took traits from religions and philosophies across the globe to create a mystical, mythical energy force that binds us and guides us. Fans of Star Wars were inspired by Kenobi to listen to our surroundings and become attuned to the space in which we live. And the Force is just the glue that holds together the enormous world built by Lucas and his crew.

No movie was as thorough as Star Wars in creating an entire universe. Many lines in the 1977 film were carefully crafted to construct a history of this galaxy so different from our own. When speaking to Obi-Wan, Luke casually mentions “The Clone Wars” years before this event would be expounded upon. Obi-Wan’s lines about Luke’s father display an uncertainty that takes on new meaning when the viewer learns the truth in the sequel. What other movie has created lines so rich in content that books could be written for years expanding on just several hours of film?

If a movie is funny, dramatic, original, compelling, and innovative, what else does it take to be given the honor of being called Best Picture? By denying the statue to Star Wars, was the Academy simply making a pretentious statement against a movie that requires such suspension of disbelief? What is the point of movies if not to create new worlds and tell stories that can’t really happen? As much as I am a fan of realism in movies, escapism should not be so marginalized.

Lucas and the folks at Lucasfilm created the world’s most enduring movie, lasting across generations of fans and penetrating our culture in every way. And even if you take away all that has happened since the 1977 release, what you are left with is still a modern myth, a compelling narrative of trial and loss, a rich plethora of characters who take us on a heroic journey to a galaxy far, far away.

Star Wars was the most innovative and influential film of the 20th century. It was unjustly denied its due respect from the Academy by not receiving the award for being the Best Picture of 1977.