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Importing the New Right

Hannah Arendt considered calling her magnum opus Amor Mundi: Love of the World. Instead, she settled upon The Human Condition. What is most difficult, Arendt writes, is to love the world as it is, with all the evil and suffering in it. And yet she came to do just that. Loving the world means neither uncritical acceptance nor contemptuous rejection. Above all it means the unwavering facing up to and comprehension of that which is.

Every Sunday, The Hannah Arendt Center Amor Mundi Weekly Newsletter will offer our favorite essays and blog posts from around the web. These essays will help you comprehend the world. And learn to love it.

 

Importing the New Right

Last week I wrote about Thomas Chatterton Williams’ account of the new nationalist identitarian right in France. Now in the latest New York Review of Books, Mark Lilla, also  argues (paywall) that the new French Right needs to be taken seriously.

Something new is happening on the European right, and it involves more than xenophobic populist outbursts. Ideas are being developed, and transnational networks for disseminating them are being established. Journalists have treated as a mere vanity project Steve Bannon’s efforts to bring European populist parties and thinkers together under the umbrella of what he calls The Movement. But his instincts, as in American politics, are in tune with the times. (Indeed, one month after Marion’s appearance at CPAC, Bannon addressed the annual convention of the National Front.) In countries as diverse as France, Poland, Hungary, Austria, Germany, and Italy, efforts are underway to develop a coherent ideology that would mobilize Europeans angry about immigration, economic dislocation, the European Union, and social liberalization, and then use that ideology to govern. Now is the time to start paying attention to the ideas of what seems to be an evolving right-wing Popular Front. France is a good place to start….

Most of these young French conservatives’ arguments presume this organic conception. Why do they consider the European Union a danger? Because it rejects the cultural-religious foundation of Europe and tries to found it instead on the economic self-interest of individuals. To make matters worse, they suggest, the EU has encouraged the immigration of people from a different and incompatible civilization (Islam), stretching old bonds even further. Then, rather than fostering self-determination and a healthy diversity among nations, the EU has been conducting a slow coup d’état in the name of economic efficiency and homogenization, centralizing power in Brussels. Finally, in putting pressure on countries to conform to onerous fiscal policies that only benefit the rich, the EU has prevented them from taking care of their most vulnerable citizens and maintaining social solidarity. Now, in their view, the family must fend for itself in an economic world without borders, in a culture that willfully ignores its needs. Unlike their American counterparts, who celebrate the economic forces that most put “the family” they idealize under strain, the young French conservatives apply their organic vision to the economy as well, arguing that it must be subordinate to social needs.

And also in the New York Review of Books, Bernard E. Harcourt argues the new right in America is importing from Europe a focus on race. The main goal of the new right is “to discuss “the one topic that white conservatives are not allowed to discuss,” namely ‘race.’” Harcourt describes new right activists who argue that Jews, Muslims, leftists, and non-whites are bringing about a white genocide. And Harcourt argues the root of this white nationalist rhetoric is to be found in European nationalist intellectuals such as Daniel Friberg and Guillaume Faye. Harcourt makes a further claim, that President Trump is a full-on supporter of the new right; but this claim is less convincing. More likely, the President is a master at taking advantage of the nihilist urge of so many Americans to attack and dethrone an elite class that has lost its claim to power and authority. Yes, he employs dog whistles. Yes he is crude and repulsive. But rarely does he back up his words with actions. Which suggests that his words are more intended to produce anger and reaction from the elite he attacks. All movements, as Hannah Arendt knew, need to constantly stay in motion. The President’s constant attacks on elites are his way of mobilizing his base that wants to tear down the institutions of government without actually tearing down those institutions.

The question for our times is whether the constant nihilist smashing of all respectable limits and institutions will at some point overwhelm the bonds of civility and political friendship that gird our democracy. For this reason,, Harcourt is right to warn that Trump’s rhetoric fuels a dangerous new right.  He writes:

We have been insufficiently attentive to how carefully crafted and targeted Trump’s new right discourse and politics are, how they deliberately encourage and mobilize extremists, and normalize them as a crucial political constituency. President Trump is enabling extremists through what sociologists refer to as “scripted violence.” We tend to say that Trump is “dog-whistling” to white nationalists and supremacists; but it is far more serious than that. Speaking openly to the new right, Trump is rallying and emboldening a counterrevolutionary politics. If the American people do not act soon, we risk being caught in a downward authoritarian spiral or violent civil strife.

—Roger Berkowitz

Two Murders in France

James McAuley tells an incredible story of two murders in France of elderly Jewish women, Sarah Halimi and Mireille Knoll. In both cases, the accused murderers are young Muslim men (in the second murder one of the accused is non-Muslim) who may, or may not, have been motivated by antisemitism. The psychologist who examined one of the accused “concluded that it was unlikely the killing was a premeditated antisemitic hate crime. However, the psychiatrist saw plenty of antisemitic mechanisms at work, including Traoré’s own confessions that he had somehow been triggered by the Torah and the menorah he saw in Attal’s apartment.” For the psychologist,  “The fact that she was Jewish immediately demonised her, and amplified his delusional experience … and caused the barbaric surge of which she was the unfortunate victim.” In the second murder, the antisemitism is more attenuated. Yet, as McAuley reports, the reaction to the murders has been to intensify a national debate around antisemitism and antiislamism.

But a different, less harmonious narrative soon emerged. The month after the killing, the cases of Mireille Knoll and the woman now known as Sarah Halimi became the catalysts for a blistering “manifesto” against “the new antisemitism.” This was an open letter signed by more than 250 French luminaries, including one former president, calling for French Muslims to demonstrate their fealty to the Republic and arguing that portions of the Qur’an should be “banished to obscurity”, which many took to mean redacted altogether. In response, 30 imams published a response in Le Monde, denouncing antisemitism, but also what they saw as the normalisation of Islamophobia. “Some have already seen a chance to incriminate an entire religion,” the imams wrote. “They no longer hesitate to say in public and in the media that it is the Qur’an itself that calls for murder.” (Korsia, France’s chief rabbi, later told me that he regretted the phrasing of the original manifesto, which he signed. “What I would have preferred is that we would have made clearer the need for contextualisation and interpretation rather than the total abrogation of this or that verse,” he said, referring to the call to edit portions of the Qur’an.)

Looking back on the affair, Daniel Knoll feels that an opportunity was missed. On a rainy October afternoon, he received me for tea at the small apartment he shares with Jovinda, his Catholic, Filipina wife, in a suburb of Paris not far from Orly airport. I asked him how he felt seeing his mother transformed into a national symbol, a metaphor for the threat of Islamist antisemitism – even if there was little evidence her killer had been an “Islamist”.

“The culprit was a Muslim, but he doesn’t represent the entire Muslim religion,” Knoll said. He was particularly moved by the diversity of the crowd at the march, and what he saw as a collective sense that his mother could be anyone’s grandmother. “But to say she’s a symbol? I’m not sure about that.”

Knoll has attempted to take back control of the narrative, publishing a book in November that explores the values by which his mother lived rather than the circumstances in which she died. It is anything but a testament to the incompatibility of Islam with the French Republic, and he refuses to allow his mother’s death to be presented as the failure of “vivre ensemble”, the goal of greater social cohesion in an increasingly diverse society, which, as he sees it, corresponds to how his mother – the person, not the victim – understood the world. The Knoll family, he writes, has Jewish and non-Jewish members from France, the Philippines, Canada and Israel: “‘Vivre ensemble’ could be the title of our family album.”

Antisemitism in Europe and America

Baris Weiss reports on a new study released by CNN this week for the New York Times. According to the CNN poll which was conducted in Austria, France, Germany, Britain, Hungary, Poland and Sweden, 1 in 4 Europeans are antisemitic:

Nearly a quarter of the respondents said Jews have too much influence in conflict and wars. More than a quarter believe that Jews have too much influence in business and finance. Nearly one in five believe that most anti-Semitism is a response to the behavior of Jews. Roughly a third say Jews use the Holocaust to advance their own goals. Just 54 percent say Israel has the right to exist as a Jewish state.

 

Quote of the Week: Mediation and the Privatization of Conflict

By Susan Oberman, director of Common Ground Negotiation Services, a private mediation practice in Charlottesville, Virginia.

Modernity, however, poses nearly insurmountable problems to any clarification of political phenomena, since in this period a new sphere has opened up between the familiar spheres of private and the public, in which the public sphere is in the process of being made private, and the private counterpart is in the process of being made public.

— Hannah Arendt

It is hard to imagine as Arendt states here, how the separation of public and private spheres could be a reality in our time. In addition to the amount of information people reveal on social media and in everyday life through online buying or just using credit cards, we see more and more privatizing of public functions such as prisons, schools, and even the military’s use of mercenaries to fight (undeclared) American wars. The family and relationships, traditionally seen as private (except in the case of inter-racial or same-sex couples until quite recently), become public with a marriage or in the event of divorce, domestic violence, or child abuse. Sexual harassment and sexual abuse in the workplace which has long been kept private, is now being publicly exposed by the #MeToo and #TimesUp campaigns. Prisons which are public, have historically kept hidden and secret the abuse and inhumane treatment of prisoners. And abuse by priests that has been protected by the cloistered privacy of the church, is finally being dealt with legally. Separating public and private would mean somehow figuring out how medical decisions which are private, can be understood in the context of a right to health care which is public.

Another arena in which we can apply Arendt’s view that public functions are being privatized is mediation and other ADR (Alternative Dispute Resolution) processes that privatize conflict. Though it seems to fly under the radar screen, mediation has played a significant role in removing potentially precedent-setting cases from court dockets so that the issues involved are never brought to the light of day. The privatization of the law itself is accomplished when common law, which is created when prior decisions establish precedents, is replaced by private negotiation. As we can see in the President’s and many Congress members’ frequent use of nondisclosure or confidentiality agreements, a major element in the privatization of conflict is confidentiality. Confidentiality prevents parties from revealing admissions of fault made during conflict resolution sessions, or disclosing amounts of settlements. Thus, if one consumer mediates about a faulty product or one employee about workplace discrimination, others may never know about it.

Beginning in the early twentieth century the courts initiated “reforms” intended to remove cases from the dockets. Chief Justice Warren Burger furthered this agenda by introducing mediation as the panacea for overloaded dockets (a myth that many dispute), at the Pound Conference in 1976. Following the Pound Conference, mediation appeared in various forms primarily through the courts and in community mediation centers. Although mediation is promoted as an “alternative to the law,” certified mediators are subject to legal and ethical standards whether a case is court-referred or private. Confidentiality in mediation is regulated by legal codes or court rules in 49 states. Thus, the practice of mediation functions as an option under the law and is public, at the same time confidentiality is cited as the basis for claiming it is private. The location of mediation in the public realm is clear: through court referrals to mediation, court certification of mediators, implementation of court rules and standards, by legislation, and by court enforcement of mediation agreements. In addition, mediators are often paid by the court.

Once authority is delegated to mediators, (in addition to other professionals such as Guardians ad litem, social workers, parent coordinators, evaluators, and therapists), the court becomes invisible. Conflict is privatized and personalized, outsourced to mediation centers or private offices and considered devoid of public importance. Professionals providing services to the court assume the role of “helpers,” yet they can invade parties’ lives far beyond what the court itself is permitted to do. Through an array of informal processes, these professionals become complicit in extending state control. Mediators gain access to private information, usually freely given by the parties, that can be used as leverage to coerce participation in mediation, or to manipulate decisions on issues such as custody of children. Mediators deny that they have any power, at the same time colluding in what critics have called “the invasion of the informal state.”

Accompanying the promotion of ADR, was the creation of a “harmony ideology.” The harmony ideology frames conflict as negative, rather than as a recognition of injury, or a healthy exchange of opposing ideas. The harmony ideology has infiltrated many aspects of our society, often in the call for civility, or in the notion that feeling uncomfortable is detrimental to one’s well-being. Diverting what some Pound Conference participants referred to as “garbage cases” to alternative dispute resolution processes, shifts concerns about justice to an emphasis on therapeutic treatments. While claiming that mediation provides “informal justice,” parties are often pressured to reach settlement in mediation, which supports the status quo rather than justice. While it is not in fact possible to privatize justice — since justice includes public vindication — the attempt threatens the hard-won rights that we continue to believe are the basis of our democracy.

If the court has referred the parties to mediation, they may believe they must allow invasion into areas of their lives that they have a right to keep private. When mediators elicit descriptions and details of events or ask parties to “tell their stories,” unrepresented parties may be unaware of their right to withhold information. Mediation can be mandated in many states, but even when mediation is voluntary, the mediator acts as an extension of court authority. Mediators function as state actors, a term used to determine what is public and what is private under the Fourteenth Amendment. Therefore, parties’ legal rights should be understood and protected in mediation as it functions within the law, not as an alternative to it. Yet non-attorney mediators are rarely trained in the legal principles under which mediation operates. Mediators would not consider it within their job description to uphold constitutional rights such as Fourth Amendment protections against invasion by the government or Fourteenth Amendment liberty to raise one’s children. Mediation, while it does offer the potential for parties to resolve issues, also advances invasion of privacy and loss of access to justice. Mediation which appears to give parties’ authority and privacy is instead an example of the simultaneous privatizing of the public sphere and loss of individual privacy.

While Arendt addresses the realities of the dissolution of a public/private distinction, she never prescribes action, only telling us generally that we need to think and to engage in public discourse. However, in order to have public discourse about the function of mediation as a mechanism for privatizing the law, the dual threat it poses to both the public and private spheres would have to be recognized. Instead the culture seems to have willingly adapted to the loss of both individual privacy and access to the courts. Mediation is a prime example of the dangers in fusing public and private spheres that Arendt identifies.

Journal Feature: Nations Are Not Exceptions

by David Bromwich

This essay was first published in HA Journal Volume III

Is American exceptionalism a force for good? The question shouldn’t be hard to answer. To make an exception of oneself is as immoral a proceeding for a nation as it is for a person. When we say of a person (usually someone who has gone off the rails), “He thinks the rules don’t apply to him,” we mean that the person is a danger to others and perhaps to himself. People who act on that belief don’t examine themselves deeply or write a history of the self to justify the belief that they are unique. Very little effort is involved in their willfulness. Indeed, exceptionalism comes from an excess of will, unaccompanied by awareness of the necessity of self-restraint. Such people are monsters. Many land in asylums, more perhaps in prisons. The category also encompasses many high-functioning autistics: governors, generals, Wall Street corporate heads, owners of professional sports teams.

Nations, on the other hand, do write their own histories. They keep and exhibit a record of their doings, a chronicle of justified conduct and actions worthy of celebration. Exceptional nations therefore are compelled to engage in some fancy bookkeeping, which exceptional individuals can avoid (or at least delay until they are put on trial or subjected to interrogation under oath). The exceptional nation will claim that it is not responsible for its exceptional character. Its nature was given by God or history or destiny. An external and semi-miraculous instrumentality is invoked to explain a prodigy that defies merely scientific understanding. To support the belief, variants and synonyms of the word providence often get slotted in, a word that picked up its utility at the end of the 17th century, which marked the beginning of the epoch of nations formed in Europe by a sup- posed covenant or compact. Providence splits the difference between the accidents of fortune and purposeful design—a handy piece of verbal machinery if you are bent on deception.

Why is it immoral for a person to treat himself as an exception? Because morality, by definition, means a standard of right and wrong that applies to all persons without exception. Yet to shorten the answer in this way may be to oversimplify. The word exceptionalism, as well as the idea, in the popular press and in demagogic minds, is at once resonant and ambiguous. Three separate senses are in play, each with a different apology backing it. The glamour of the idea owes something to a confusion between them.

First, the nation is thought to be exceptional by its very nature, a nature so consistently high, worthy, and enviable that these qualities shine through all its works. One can’t imagine not justifying and admiring and (if one is a foreigner) wishing to belong to such a nation. “My country right or wrong” becomes the proper sentiment, once this picture has captured us, because we can’t conceive of the nation being wrong.

A second sense of the word may seem more open to rational testing. Here, the nation is supposed to be admirable by reason of history and circumstance. It has demonstrated its exceptional quality by adherence to certain ideals peculiar to its original character and broadly appreciable as part of the human inheritance. Not “my country right or wrong” but a more thoughtful sentiment is evoked: “we love our nation not for what it is but for what it can be.” The evidence of what it can be forms a historical deposit with a rich residue in the present.

The third version of exceptionalism derives from the commonest sort of affectionate feeling about living in a community, community here being defined on the small scale of neighborhoods, townships, ethnic groups and religious sects. Communitarian nationalism takes the innocent-seeming but illicit step of applying this sentiment of community to the nation at large. It is, in fact, the mingling of the local sentiment with the nationalist and the high-minded idealist senses of the word that has made “American exceptionalism” into such an intoxicating brew. My nation is exceptional to me, this rationalization says, just because it is mine; its familiar habits and customs have shaped the way I think and feel, beyond any wish to extricate myself from its demands. The nation, in this view, is like a family, and we owe it, just as we owe the members of our family, “unconditional love.” This presents itself as the common sense of ordinary feelings. How can our nation help but be exceptional to us?

Athens was an exceptional nation, or city-state, as Pericles described it in his oration for the first fallen soldiers in the Peloponnesian War. He meant his description of Athens as exceptional to carry both normative force and hortatory urgency. Athens is the greatest of Greek cities and shows it by its works, by the greatness of its deeds, by the structure of its government, and by the character of the citizens who are themselves creations of the city. At the same time, Pericles is saying to the widows and children of the war dead: “Resemble them! Be like these brave dead! Do more of what they have done! Seek to deserve the name of Athenian as they have deserved it!”

The great oration, recounted by Thucydides in History of the Peloponnesian War, begins by praising the ancestors of Athenian democracy who by their exertions have made it exceptional. “They dwelt in the country without break in the succession from generation to generation, and handed it down free to the present time by their valor.”1 Yet we who are alive today, says Pericles, have also added to that inheritance. He then goes on to praise the constitution of the polis, which “does not copy the laws of neighboring states; we are rather a pattern to others than imitators ourselves.”2

The foreshadowing of American exceptionalism is uncanny here, and the shadows lengthen as the speech proceeds. “In our enterprises we present the singular spectacle of daring and deliberation, each carried to its highest point, and both united in the same person.”3 And again: “As a city we are the school of Hellas,”4 by which the orator means that no representative man from another city will be so resourceful as one of ours. Athens, alone of all cities, is greater than her reputation.

We Athenians, says Pericles, risk our lives by carrying a difficult bur- den, rather than live by submitting to others. Indeed, the greatness of the city is proved by our very willingness to die; and he turns now to the surviving families of soldiers after the first great battle, with words that admonish and exalt. “You must yourselves realize the power of Athens, and feed your eyes upon her from day to day, till love of her fills your hearts,” he says to the widows and children. “Then when all her greatness shall break upon you, you must recognize that it was by courage, sense of duty, and a keen feeling of honor in action that men were enabled to win all this.”5 So stirring are their deeds that the memory of their greatness is written in the hearts of men in faraway lands: “For heroes have the whole earth for their tomb.”6

Athenian exceptionalism at its height, as the words of Pericles show, took the deeds of war to prove the worthiness of all that the city had achieved, apart from war. Athens here is placed beyond comparison; no one who knows Athens and knows other cities will fail to recognize Athens as the exception. This is an overmastering sensation that carries conviction. The greatness of the city is like a vision that “breaks upon you.”7

To bring us a step closer to America at present, compare that praise of an exceptional political order with a partly similar invocation of a national past by Abraham Lincoln in the Gettysburg Address. Lincoln was speaking not of a war against a rival city-state but, as he described it, against part of one’s own nation that had broken away. The common commitment that he recalls found expression in a single document that codified the high idealism of the state and inspired a framework of laws that would allow those ideals to be realized over time. Athens for Pericles is what Athens has always been. The Union, for Lincoln, is what the Union still is going to be.

Lincoln associates the greatness of our past intentions—“We hold these truths to be self-evident”—with a resolution he asks his listeners to declare at the present moment:

It is [not for the noble dead, but] rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom.

Artificial weights will at last be lifted from all shoulders, and after the war there will be a popular government and a political society based on the principle of free labor, and slavery will be brought to an end. He asks his listeners to love their country for what it can be. In this way, the sacrifice we make on behalf of a future serves as corroborating proof of our greatness. There is a detectable evasion in the speech, but it declines to cover its own tracks. This was one of the reasons why Lincoln was called honest. He doesn’t hide the slave constitution under his resolution for freedom; the imperfection of the American founding is confessed between the lines. But the fulfillment of his prayer for freedom is trusted to show that the Constitution all along was pointed in the direction of our fight to make the Union free.

Notice that the logic of the argument for the exceptional city, which we saw in Pericles, has been reversed by Lincoln. The future is not guaranteed by the greatness of the past; rather, the tarnished virtue of the past is scoured by the purity of the future. Exceptional in its reliance on slavery, the first American Revolution is here redeemed by the second. Through the sacrifice of nameless thousands, the nation will become truly exceptional by overcoming slavery from within. The argument would be plainer but less effective if Lincoln hadn’t begun with an allusion to a deep past: “Four score and seven years ago . . .” We would be less liable to be wrongly moved by it if the speech had begun: “Two years from now, perhaps three, our country will see a great transformation.”8 But an exceptional character, whether in history or story, needs an exceptional plot; so the speech commences with a biblical cadence evoking the length of the life of one man and goes on to ask the implicit question: Can a free people survive longer than this?

Belief in the nation that simply is exceptional (like the Athens of Pericles) or in the nation that will soon justify its claim to be exceptional (like the America of Lincoln) is hardly an incidental exertion. It calls for extraordinary arrogance or extraordinary hope in the believer. But exceptional- ism, in our time, has been made less exacting by an appeal based on the resemblance of national feeling to the feeling we have for neighborhoods or small communities. In particular, identity is claimed between the nation and the smallest and most vivid community that most people know: the family. Many people—everyone from presidents to political theorists to high school principals—say that we should treat our country, “our people,” the way we treat members of our family. If the nation does wrong, it is an error and not a crime. We can’t help seeing it that way because we owe our nation, as we owe our children, unconditional love.

I pass over the obvious difficulties about the truth of the analogy: a family has nested us, cradled us, nursed us from infancy, as we have perhaps done for later generations of the same family, in a sense far more intimate than the sense in which a nation can be said to have fostered or nurtured us. We know our family with an individuated depth and author- ity we can’t bring to our knowledge of a nation. This may be a difference of kind or a difference of degree, but the difference is certainly great.

There is a delusion in the analogy between nation and family, but a subtler theft and transfer of feeling is involved with the idea of unconditional love. What do we mean by unconditional love? What do we mean by it even as applied to a family? Suppose my delinquent child robs and beats an old man on a city street and I learn of it by accident or his own confession. What exactly do I owe him? Unconditional love, in this setting, surely does mean that I can’t stop caring about my child. I will regard this terrible act as an aberration, and I will think about the act and the actor quite differently from the way I would think about such a crime if anyone else committed it. Does unconditional love also require that I make excuses for him? Shall I pay a lawyer to get him off the hook and back on the streets as soon as possible? Is it my duty to conceal what he has done, if there is a chance of keeping it secret, and never speak the truth about it in the company of strangers or persons outside the family?

The argument for exceptionalism as a form of unconditional love actually follows this train of bad insinuation to the end. One must never speak critically of one’s country in the hearing of other nations, never write against its policies in foreign newspapers, and always, above all, assume the good intentions of our own people when they do things that are vicious and wrong. The argument suggests that we ought to protect our country from the “misunderstanding” of strangers even when that amounts to the same thing as a right understanding of justice.

This appeal to the nation as a family rests on a reversion from moral argument to habitual sentiment. It may be a less fertile source of belligerent pride than the exceptionalism of “my country right or wrong.” It may be less grandiose, too, than the exceptionalism that asks us to love our country for ideals that have never properly been translated from resolution into practice. And yet, in this familiar last resort of exceptionalism, there is the same renunciation of moral knowledge, a renunciation that if followed would render inconceivable any social order beyond that of the family and its extension, the tribe.

Unconditional love of our country is the counterpart of unconditional detachment and even hostility toward other countries. None of us is an exception, and no nation is. The sooner we come to live with this truth as a mundane reality, the more grateful other people and other nations will be to live in a world that includes us, among others.

  1. “Thucydides (c.460/455–c.399 BCE): Pericles’ Funeral Oration from the Peloponnesian

War (Book 2.34-46),” Fordham University: Ancient History Sourcebook, accessed August 10, 2015, http://legacy.fordham.edu/halsall/ancient/pericles-funeralspeech.asp. 2. Ibid. 3. Ibid. 4. Ibid. 5. Ibid. 6. Ibid. 7. Ibid. 8. Abraham Lincoln, Speeches and Writings 1859–1865 (New York: Library of America,

1989).

Nations Are Not Exceptions David Bromwich 27

 

Video Feature: The Unmaking of Americans

Posted on 1 December 2018 | 11:50 pm

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