Cancel Culture Is Bipartisan - Let’s Unite to Fight It

This is an outstanding article about the disease that is infecting American politics and society.?All sides should take heed.

Cancel Culture Is Bipartisan. Let’s Unite to Fight It Righteous Intolerance is one of the gravest threats a democracy can face.

By Michael R. Bloomberg - This is an adaptation of a speech delivered at the Old North Foundation’s “Lantern2022” event on April 13, 2022.

When I was growing up in Medford, Massachusetts, in the 1950s, I was asked to read “Paul Revere’s Ride” at the Patriots’ Day celebration in Medford Square. I can picture the scene today: a raised platform in front of Gaffey’s Funeral Home — the same house where Revere reportedly hitched his horse to wake up Isaac Hall, a captain of the Minutemen. Hundreds of people looking on with excitement. A brass band blaring John Philip Sousa’s “The Stars and Stripes Forever.” And me — a Cub Scout, amazed that I had the chance to be part of such an important occasion.

It was the most exciting moment of my young life. And it’s probably what inspired me to pick up a novel set in colonial Boston titled “Johnny Tremain.” I must have read it hundreds of times. In my bedroom. On the bus to school. I’d even bring it on the T — although it wasn’t called the T back then — when I would go to the North End to see Revolutionary War sites.

I’d picture myself as the heroic Johnny, walking in his footsteps and helping the Sons of Liberty take on that mean old tyrant King George III. Never would I have believed that one day I’d be honored by the very church that set my imagination on fire and lit the dawn of the American Revolution. And I can assure you, my teachers wouldn’t have believed it, either.

So this is a special night for me. And I want to thank everyone at the Old North Church Foundation for taking such good care of this sacred place, and for keeping it alive for new generations of visitors — especially children. The education work that happens here?is so important, because it’s not just about the history of the American Revolution. It’s about the future of the American experiment. Tonight, I’d like to talk a little about a serious threat looming over that future — a breakdown in our most vital civic traditions — and how we can overcome it.

As a child, I didn’t know that Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote “Paul Revere’s Ride” in 1860 to rally public support for the Union and against secession and slavery. And I didn’t know that Esther Forbes wrote “Johnny Tremain” after hearing of the attack on Pearl Harbor, to rally public support for the young soldiers and sailors going off to war. Both writers used history to inspire a new generation of Americans to believe in the ideals that gave birth to our nation — so that they would propel us forward.

Those ideals were captured in a single sentence that began, “We hold these truths to be self-evident.” The truths may have been self-evident back when those words were written, but how to apply them was not. The Founders fiercely debated that question, and so has every generation since. That never-ending debate — over the meaning of equality, and of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness — lies at the heart of the American experience. In that debate, we can see all of our national greatness — and all of our failures, too.

We can see the slave owner — and Frederick Douglass. We can see women’s subjugation — and Susan B. Anthony. We can see the Trail of Tears — and Chief Joseph. We can see Jim Crow — and the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. We can see “No Irish Need Apply” signs — and John Fitzgerald Kennedy. We can see Asian exclusion — and Michelle Wu. We can see Mexican exploitation — and Cesar Chavez. We can see the assassination of Harvey Milk — and the marriage of Barney Frank. And we can hear Father Coughlin’s antisemitic radio program — just as we can hear a song written by a Jewish refugee, Irving Berlin, called “God Bless America.”

We can see and hear all of that, and so much more, in the argument we’ve been carrying on for 246 years about the meaning of those “self-evident” truths. We have settled many of the arguments, thankfully — never without a long and hard struggle. But many more remain, and always will. Because this is our calling as Americans: to engage in this debate — civilly, democratically and peacefully — not as enemies, but as fellow citizens.

It is our birthright — our civic duty — and our most sacred tradition. But sadly, I must stand before you tonight and say that it is being jeopardized by one of the gravest dangers any democracy can face: righteous intolerance.

In our ongoing debate over self-evident truths, American history has always been contested ground. On every issue, each side has always claimed to be the true voice of America’s founding ideals. But in recent years, the debate has taken a turn. More and more, there are people who look at U.S. leaders from earlier generations and see flaws that should disqualify their statues from places of honor. To continue to honor them, these critics say, is to condone racism. Or sexism. Or homophobia. And they believe we should cleanse our public spaces of them.

On the other side, there are people who look at the same leaders and see virtues that should shield them from criticism. To call attention to their flaws, they say, is to hate America, and they are trying to cleanse schools of books that might make students feel uncomfortable, if they were to learn about these flaws and other dark chapters in our history.

Each side scorns the other with righteous intolerance. But I think most of us would agree that there is a reasonable middle ground. Because the fact is: We can honor a person’s good deeds and be critical of their failings. It’s not one or the other. And doing both is a matter of national survival — because a nation that shares no heroes will not long be a nation. And a democracy that demands blind devotion to heroes will not long be a democracy.

We are not a perfect country. Never have been, never will be. But while we aren’t batting a thousand, we’re still doing better than Ted Williams ever did, which isn’t too shabby. And every time we face up to our mistakes and failures, we grow stronger — because patriotism doesn’t require perfection from the past. It requires honesty in the present.

It’s great to see the Old North Church Foundation acknowledging the fullness of its history. Not just the light of freedom in the steeple — but the darkness of slavery in the wood that surrounds us, which was logged by people held in bondage. Talking about that history doesn’t diminish the sacredness of this place. It enriches our understanding of it.

The same is true with the story of Paul Revere’s ride. Neither Longfellow nor Forbes mention what Revere told us he saw as he rode from Charlestown to Medford on that famous night, and on to Lexington and Concord: the skeletal remains of an enslaved man, who had been hanged from a tree years earlier. Revere went galloping past — just as freedom would gallop past generations of Black Americans to come. That doesn’t mean we should stop reading Longfellow’s poem, or Forbes’s novel. It just means that we should create our own poems and novels, for our own time.

Each generation is called to refresh the story of America. Not to rewrite history, but to revisit it; and recast it; and reclaim it; and pass it down to the next generation, by teaching them about our civic foundations —?cracks and all —?so that they can continue the work of building a more perfect union.

Sadly, there is growing evidence that we are failing to meet that responsibility — and we can see the failure on both sides of the political aisle. And again, the problem is the same: righteous intolerance.

Today, there are militant groups that harken back to the American Revolution, with names like the “Oath Keepers” and “Three Percenters.” They see themselves as the heirs of the Sons of Liberty, even though their anti-government and often racist ideologies have far more in common with the old Confederates.

There will always be extremists in politics, but before Jan. 6, 2021, we had never seen a mob storm the Capitol to block the peaceful transfer of power after an election. And what happened in the days and months that followed was no less disturbing. Far too many people in the former president’s party downplayed the attack, as if it were just another peaceful protest march. There have been important exceptions to that in Washington, including a former Massachusetts governor, Senator Mitt Romney. And one of the strongest voices of all has been Massachusetts’ great current governor, Charlie Baker.

Nevertheless, polls show that the majority of Republicans believe not only that the 2020 election was stolen, but also that the members of the mob who stormed the Capitol were actually protecting democracy — rather than attempting to overthrow it.

My fellow citizens, that is a five-alarm fire, and it is burning with the kind of fuel that can consume a democracy: anger, distrust and conspiracy.?When righteous intolerance is expressed in apocalyptic terms, like “the end of liberty” and “the end of America,” it can become a justification for doing?anything, no matter how extreme or unlawful.?Unless we do more to extinguish this raging fire, the flames will spread. And instead of the torch of liberty that shines from New York Harbor — lit from the same flame that appeared here in the steeple — we will again see the torches of mobs, just as we did in Charlottesville five years ago.

In that same city of Charlottesville, we can also see how the righteous intolerance threatening our democracy is a bipartisan problem.

This week, former vice president Mike Pence gave a speech at the University of Virginia over the objections of the student newspaper, which argued that he should not be allowed to speak. Now, it will not come as a surprise to you that the former vice president and I don’t agree on just about anything. And that is exactly why it’s my obligation to defend his right to speak. Because when we do not uphold the rights of our political opponents, we should not be surprised when they fail to uphold ours.

To their credit, the university’s leadership stood up and ensured that the lecture could go on. But the problem of intolerance for free expression and the civil exchange of ideas has gotten much worse since 2014, when I gave a commencement speech on the topic across the river at Harvard. And it has spread far beyond college campuses.

Today, in addition to academics and students, people of all walks of life are increasingly afraid to speak their minds. They fear they might say something that could be taken the wrong way — leading them to be publicly humiliated, socially ostracized and even fired from their jobs. This is another form of mob rule. And while the danger is not of the same magnitude as a mob attacking the Capitol to overturn an election, it is born of the same spirit of righteous intolerance.

In both cases, the populist wings of our parties are taking a page from the Salem witch trials. They are convinced they know what justice requires based on their own morally absolute views — heretics be damned. And sadly, many elected officials in both parties quietly go along with them?to preserve their political careers.

Although neither side wants to admit it, the challenges to democracy from the right and left are closely related. Because the spirit of righteous intolerance that silences speakers is the same spirit that bans books, and even bans certain words and topics. The impulse to nullify other people’s speech is the same impulse that led people to try to nullify an election. Because when people can cancel opinions, they begin to think they can cancel votes, too.

In all its forms, left and right,?“cancel culture” is a cancer on our democracy — and all of us in both parties need to stand up and fight it.

The human tendency to suppress free expression reminds me of a scene from “Johnny Tremain.” As Johnny looks on at a Sons of Liberty meeting, one of the senior leaders — James Otis Jr. — asks the others why they might go to war.?To free Boston from the Red Coats, said one. To prevent taxation without representation, said another. For the rights of Englishmen the world over, said a third.

No, said Otis. They would fight for a much simpler idea: “Only that a person can stand up.”

To stand up. And be heard. And be counted. And be free to pursue our ambitions and express our beliefs. That has always been America’s fight, and it’s why those “self-evident truths” have changed so much since 1776. Because every generation has fought to stand up — to expand the definition of equality and liberty. And time and again, we have supported other nations in their fights to stand up, including the courageous people of Ukraine, who have inspired the world.

Our commitment to the good fight — the fight against tyranny and intolerance in all their forms — is why America has always been the place where people come when they vote with their feet — including, I will note, Paul Revere’s father.

He was born Apollos Rivoire, and his family was among the many Huguenots who fled France to escape persecution. As a child, his family sent him here, so he would have the chance to stand up. His story is as much the story of America as his son’s. And it’s just as important that we teach that story to our children — of refugees and immigrants seeking freedom and opportunity — because it’s impossible to understand the genius of America without it.

The last time I was in Medford, shortly before the pandemic, I passed by Gaffey’s Funeral Home — and I was surprised to see it had closed. But the building was still there. And right next to the rock with the historical plaque about Paul Revere hitching his horse at that spot, there was a sign for the building’s new occupant: the Islamic Cultural Center of Medford — the community’s first mosque.

So the house where the son of a religious refugee sparked the American Revolution is now a house of worship for another religious group that has faced intolerance here, and whose members are making their own important contributions to their community and country. If that isn’t the most quintessentially American story, I don’t know what is. And I couldn’t be prouder to say that it’s just a mile down the road from the William and Charlotte Bloomberg Jewish Community Center.

The legend of Paul Revere endures because the fight for freedom and equality for all has never ended. In 1967, the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. said, “We still need some Paul Revere of conscience to alert every hamlet and every village of America that revolution is still at hand.” It was true then. It is true today. And it will be true tomorrow.

And just as we need Paul Reveres, we need leaders who hang lanterns high for all to see, and citizens who rouse from their slumbers when liberty is threatened, and young people — like the students here tonight — who see that the next chapter in the story of America is theirs to write as they carry on the tradition of debating those “self-evident” truths, and putting their faith in their fellow citizens, even when they passionately disagree, because that is the essence of democracy, and the obligation of patriotism.

I didn’t realize it when I was a boy, but “Johnny Tremain” wasn’t about the American Revolution. It was about the American character and the values that form our identity. It was about inspiring children to work hard, dream big, be creative, never give up, serve others, love and defend freedom, and respect and honor those who have won it and protected it with their lives.

Along with the Boy Scouts, and especially my mother and father, who would be as proud of this Third Lantern Award as any honor I have ever received, “Johnny Tremain” taught me what it means to stand up — for ourselves, for others and for our nation. At the close of the book, Johnny stands on Lexington Green and watches the militia march by. He sees a new day and a new nation that is “green with spring, dreaming of the future.”

That is the America I’ve believed in since I was a little boy, and that is the America I want to leave to my family and future generations of schoolchildren. I don’t know if they will read “Johnny Tremain,” but my greatest hope is that the light that still shines from this old church will one day inspire them, as it did me. And they will carry in their hearts the one simple idea that ignited the American Revolution, which will always be worth fighting for: only that a person can stand up.

Thank you. And may God’s light always shine on — and from — this church.

Originally published on Bloomberg.com