A Special Job for Mankind

By Alan W. Dowd, ASCF Senior Fellow

July/August 2022

The previous issue discussed some of the challenges flowing from our post-truth culture—and the dangers of handing off the reins of national leadership to generations that simply don’t believe America is a force for good in the world. This issue will explore how we can address these challenges.

Direction
A good place to start is by pointing tomorrow’s leaders to the words and ideas of America’s heroes.

Rather than inciting mob violence, assaulting our institutions, undermining the rule of law, attacking the symbols of American unity, expunging the names of presidents from schools or defacing statues of wartime heroes, Martin Luther King was able to look beyond the problems of the moment and the flaws of the founders—and see what they envisioned, what they dreamed, what they began building.

King recognized that the Declaration of Independence—an imperfect document penned by an imperfect man—reflects “an amazing universalism.” Calling Jefferson’s masterpiece, with its promise of “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,” “a dream…a great dream,” King pointed out that the document “doesn’t say ‘some men,’ it says ‘all men.’ It doesn’t say ‘all white men,’ it says ‘all men,’ which includes black men.”

King understood that this document—written by an American and adopted by Americans—makes America exceptional: “That dream goes on to say another thing that ultimately distinguishes our nation and our form of government from any totalitarian system in the world. It says that each of us has certain basic rights that are neither derived from or conferred by the state…They are God-given, gifts from His hands. Never before in the history of the world has a sociopolitical document expressed in such profound, eloquent and unequivocal language the dignity and the worth of human personality.”

King believed that “God somehow called America to do a special job for mankind and the world.” Unlike the mobs, King had the wisdom to recognize that even though America is imperfect, “the founding fathers of our nation dreamed this dream in all of its magnificence” and “professed the great principles of democracy.” They may not have practiced those principles to the full—they may not have known how to practice them—but they were the first to profess them so clearly and plainly. As King understood, that was an enormous step for humanity.

In these words, King was echoing something President Abraham Lincoln had said and foreshadowing something President Ronald Reagan would say.

It was Lincoln who described America as “the last best hope of earth.” And it was Reagan who called America the “shining city on a hill.”

Lincoln, King and Reagan were very different men raised in very different times, but each of them believed in America and in American exceptionalism.

No, they didn’t think America was perfect. But unlike the mobs, Lincoln, King and Reagan understood that the measure of a nation, like that of an individual, is direction, not perfection—and that America was born headed in the right direction. That idea is totally foreign to too many Americans.

Reagan noticed, even as he left office, this tilt away from American exceptionalism. “We absorbed, almost in the air, a love of country and an appreciation of its institutions. If you didn't get these things from your family, you got them from the neighborhood, from the father down the street who fought in Korea or the family who lost someone at Anzio. Or you could get a sense of patriotism from school. And if all else failed you could get a sense of patriotism from the popular culture. The movies celebrated democratic values and implicitly reinforced the idea that America was special,” he recalled. But he worried how “younger parents aren't sure that an unambivalent appreciation of America is the right thing to teach modern children. And as for those who create the popular culture, well-grounded patriotism is no longer the style.”

Gazing at that changing—more accurately, corroding—cultural landscape, he warned of “an eradication of the American memory that could result, ultimately, in an erosion of the American spirit.”

And here we are.

The good news is that Reagan’s solution to this challenge still holds. “Let's start with some basics: more attention to American history and a greater emphasis on civic ritual.” He urged Americans “to teach history based not on what's in fashion but what's important—why the Pilgrims came here, who Jimmy Doolittle was and what those 30 seconds over Tokyo meant.”

Some colleges are trying to follow that playbook—trying to tell the fullness of America’s history to new generations, trying to highlight for young Americans that important distinction between perfection and direction, trying to teach America’s story from the vantage point of Lincoln, King and Reagan.

For example, tiny Hillsdale College (enrollment 1,466) requires students to take courses on America’s heritage and America’s Constitution. Hillsdale also has created an entire curriculum to help K-12 teachers teach American history and civic education to a new generation of Americans.

City-sized Purdue University (enrollment 49,639) has created a civic literacy component for all undergraduates to build a “more informed citizenry” and “expand…awareness of and options for civic participation.”

Purdue is also doing its part to promote what Reagan called “civic ritual.” Like most universities, Purdue has a pregame tradition on football Saturdays that includes the playing of the National Anthem. But Purdue goes a step further. Since 1967, Purdue’s home football games also have included a stirring pre-kickoff ritual known as “I Am an American.” With an arrangement of “America the Beautiful” playing softly, fans are invited to rise, remove their caps and read the following words: “I am an American. That’s the way most of us put it, just matter-of-factly. They are plain words, those four: you could write them on your thumbnail, or sweep them across a bright autumn sky. But remember, too, that they are more than just words. They are a way of life. So, whenever you speak them, speak them firmly, speak them proudly, speak them gratefully. I am an American!” When the crowd roars those last four words, it’s a reminder that it’s possible for people of different races, religions, economic means, political philosophies, homelands and alma maters to be united on what matters—and that America is indeed a special place.

Together
These schools need help sharing that message with America’s up-and-coming generations. This is where organizations like ASCF, the American Legion and VFW, chambers of commerce, labor-union locals, and youth sports leagues can lend a hand. ASCF’s American History Live program is doing just that, as are the American Story podcast, the Woodson Center, the 1620 Project, the Sagamore Institute’s Liberty Tracks initiative, and other initiatives that promote America’s founding principles and defend the institutions that make America exceptional. To their credit, Florida and Arizona have launched civics-education programs based on American exceptionalism. America needs more of these programs, more schools to follow the example set by Purdue and Hillsdale, more states to follow the lead of Arizona and Florida, more citizens to stand up to the mobs and to stand up for America.

If Americans don’t learn America’s story, they won’t believe in America’s purpose or support America’s role in the world. And that will lead to disaster as Cold War II unfolds. “Battles are won,” Gen. Omar Bradley observed, “by soldiers living in the rains and huddling in the snow. But wars are won by the great strength of a nation—the soldier and the civilian working together.”