A terrible conceit

On Valentine’s Day, 2065, the Department of Justice and the Food and Drug Administration dropped a bombshell: the US federal government had initiated criminal conspiracy charges against all major American sugar producers. Based on an enormous trove of evidence, sugar was the culprit for a wide-variety of health problems (obesity, heart disease, some cancers, autism and birth defects, even many mental illnesses). Furthermore, Big Sugar executives knew this as far back as the 1960’s, and engaged in a conspiracy to suppress the scientific data and even blame other products (remember the low-fat craze?). Millions of Americans, and other peoples worldwide, suffered and died due to the corporations’ actions.

Ever think you’d see a Mother Jones cover in my blog? Me neither!

Sugar immediately became the most suspect ingredient in history. The processed food industry began a race to the bottom of no-sugar in their products. Restaurants proudly posted signs proclaiming “we serve no sugar” or “take your sweet tooth elsewhere!” Sugar-free advertising became a badge of honor. But it didn’t stop there.

Of course, there was no Sugar Bowl college football game that year, or ever again. American sugar company stocks cratered, and advertisers turned down sugar sponsorship offers. The major media ran in-depth stories about the depth of the conspiracy: lies, pay-offs, political connections. Then media ran heart-wrenching stories of lives destroyed: everything from yo-yo dieters who had wasted their lives not realizing they were fighting a sugar addiction to families traumatized by children with autism or birth defects.

Predictably, the tone changed from the obvious (“Sugar is Evil”) to the more conspiratorial (“who knew what when?”). And there were plenty of targets. Big Sugar had many co-conspirators, from advertising agencies to scientists to politicians who played along. But it didn’t stop there.

Such a vast enterprise, operating openly for so long and causing so much heartache required a full and complete re-investigation of our history. Why didn’t federal bureaucrats stop this sooner? Why did some politicians not make this the top health priority? Why didn’t my doctor tell me? Where were the influencers, the sports heroes, the media personalities on this issue?

And so it began. The statue of former President Ron Desantis, who continued defending sugar long after it was obviously wrong, was defaced several times before being removed. Several high schools named for former first lady Michelle Obama dropped the association, since she was pro-nutrition but insufficiently anti-sugar. The House of Representatives changed the name of the Nancy Pelosi House Office Building to the Victims of Sugar Office Building, noting she never investigated Big Sugar while hoarding her designer ice cream. The University of Florida (America’s largest sugar-producing state) announced full-scholarships for students of families with disabilities associated with sugar use. The American Sugar refinery in Louisiana entered bankruptcy negotiations to settle claims for damages. Candy became a symbol of public disgust: you had to be a certain age to buy it in stores, and it was sold from behind the counter in unmarked paper bags. The NBA eliminated its LeBron James Award for Positive Corporate Relations after it became public he had invested in Big Sugar.

Alright, we’ve gone from the sublime to the absurd, so I think I have made my point. When you retroactively apply the thoughts, opinions, or even morality of today to the past, you must take care. I say this as a person who believes in moral absolutes; I always chuckle to myself when Progressives who say morality and truth are relative (to each person), then apply absolute tests of morality to historical figures. Not much for intellectual consistency, what? And to anyone out there thinking, “but Pat, you can’t be comparing sugar to slavery or Jim Crow or genocide or. . . “, I’m not. I am comparing the use of critical theory to history with a hypothetical future, to illuminate just how ridiculous it is, regardless of the seriousness of the subject matter. Plus, if you want to make the “slavery is far more serious argument”, okay, but what are you doing today given that there are almost twenty-five million people living in slavery now? Want to take responsibility for that? Or for ignoring it?

Much of what I wrote about sugar is true. It would not be surprising if some of the exaggerations I made later prove to be true, too. Sugar is terrible for you, it is addictive, Big Sugar did fight to blame fat for obesity and heart disease, politicians did and do protect sugar producers. And many if not most people know all this. Looking at our current lives with a “sugar-only” lens fails to consider how ubiquitous sugar is in our foods, how it causes cravings, and how many other MAJOR HEALTH CRISES compete for our attention. Life is more complicated today then where you stand on sugar.

One of the worst aspects of woke-ism is the assumption we moderns are morally and intellectually superior (because we are on the right side of history) and thus the application of today’s (superior) views to historical persons, places, or things. One might question the superiority of modern man (or woman). Where is today’s Lincoln or Washington? Da Vinci or Augustine? Mother Teresa or Jeanne d’Arc? We seem to have much more information at our fingertips, yet be much less well-informed. I see little reason to profess our intellectual or moral authority.

This is not an academic argument. The America represented in popular tracts like The 1619 Project is a practically-irredeemable place. As a young man growing up in a small town in Indiana, I was taught the standard fare of American history: the battles and the heroes and the missteps. I also learned about slavery, women soldiers in the Revolution and Civil War, the Japanese internment camps and the Jim Crow South. And I grew up far from any progressive educational paradise. All these things were covered in due course: briefly, and with context. If I had digested the American history put forward by Howard Zinn or the New York Times , I never would have dedicated almost forty years of my life to defending America and it’s constitution. Why defend the indefensible? Is that the goal?

G.K. Chesterton wrote in Orthodoxy, “Tradition means giving a vote to the most obscure of all classes, our ancestors. It is the democracy of the dead.” America, as a nation founded on an idea, has few common touchstones. You aren’t an American because of the way you look, or who you know, how you vote, how much money you have, or even how you got to America. You are an American if you believe in the idea of America. History is one of the few anchors our nation has. It must be history warts and all, as it happened and by its own standards at the time. Otherwise it is not history, it is an immature and unwise form of propaganda.

Book report: Robert E. Lee & Me

Subtitled “A Southerner’s Reckoning with the Myth of the Lost Cause,” this work is by Ty Seidule, Brigadier General (retired), and the first Professor Emeritus of History at the United States Military Academy. Seidule had his “fifteen minutes of fame” back in 2015, when he gave a talk for PraegerU, a conservative online site which produces short videos. Entitled “Was the Civil War about Slavery?” it became the most watched history video . . . in history.

Well worth five minutes of your time!

Spoiler alert: Yes, the Civil War was all about slavery. Seidule was shocked at both the popularity and the notoriety of this short video, which he thought rather obvious.

Seidule’s book builds on that experience to address the Lost Cause mythology of the American South. However, don’t expect a history book in the classic sense, or even a data-driven argument. Seidule adopted the personal-story-as-explanatory-history approach, very popular among authors today. Seidule’s personal history is as a young man who grew up in Alexandria, Virginia (a close-in suburb of Washington, DC, so close it was originally included in the District), a quintessentially southern town in the 1970’s.

Robert E. Lee and Me: A Southerner's Reckoning with the Myth of the Lost Cause by [Ty Seidule]

In prose both fluid and florid, Seidule tells of growing up a privileged son on the south, taught to revere that ultimate southern gentleman, Robert E. Lee. During his youth, Virginia state history books still had outrageous depictions of plantation life complete with happy slaves and kindly masters! Alexandria especially tried to proclaim its Confederate heritage: the town was occupied on the first day–and for the duration of–the Civil War, so it literally named all its north-south streets after Confederate heroes.

BG(ret) Seidule notes he swallowed all these myths (State’s rights, contented slaves, chivalrous Confederates personally opposed to slavery but unwilling to end it) and fully believed them. Only as an adult and budding historian did he come to realize what a slanted version of history he had been fed, and he has dedicated himself to setting the record straight.

It should go without saying, but Seidule is absolutely right. The Civil War was about slavery. Slavery is uniquely horrendous at all times, and the behavior of post Reconstruction southern leaders in their successful attempts to rewrite history and enforce Jim Crow laws was egregious. Seidule is at his best uncovering the history he never learned about towns he lived in, like Alexandria and Monroe (Georgia), which was once known as “lynchtown.” He is at his weakest when he makes post hoc arguments about why things are without any footnote or reference. Here his book comes across with little force, more like an extended opinion piece in the New York Times magazine.

Further, Seidule relies on his righteous anger at being misled at key points. He does establish the fact that generations of southern children received similar brain-washing, which partially explains the staying power of the Lost Cause myth. But, he also recognizes most of this historical fiction ended by the 1980’s, so what we have now is . . . what? Street names? Statues? Today’s students in Northern Virginia (where I lived for thirty years) get barely a few hours of Civil War history, and are hard pressed to say anything intelligent about the war. Their ability to process the name of Lee highway or J.E.B Stuart high school as a public symbol of white supremacy is suspect.

Early in this work–in the Foreword, actually–Seidule relates the story of his involvement with a project to memorialize West Point alumni who died in combat. Seidule explains he opposed including those West Pointers who abandoned the country and the Constitution at the moment of greatest danger to join the Confederacy. He notes he was overruled by the Academic Board and even the Superintendent, before someone leaked the plan and public outrage led to his position (i.e., no Confederate names in the memorial) being adopted. So far, so good, and of course the Brigadier General was in the right.

But in the telling of the tale, Seidule says “I should have realized that the overwhelmingly [sic] white men around the table might have grown up with the same myths, really lies, about the Civil War.” He has no footnote, no evidence, just a bold-faced assertion of the private thoughts and beliefs of his follow officers. This is unfortunate.

How did he know? He never says. Was there not another possibility? As a professional historian, he knows there was. I attended West Point around the same time Seidule was at Washington & Lee. Cadets did indeed study Lee, the officers who abandoned the Union, and the issue of slavery in the Civil War. In Military Art classes, we examined in-depth Lee’s tactical and operational brilliance, and his manifest failings as a strategist. In ethics, while we examined the role of States in the early days of the Republic and the loyalties they entailed, we also firmly established that abandoning our oath in wartime was an act of treason. Some cadets found this hard to swallow, but I never heard anything else than that from the faculty.

Finally, in studying how wars end, we learned about the unique outcome of the American Civil War. Most such conflicts end only with reprisals, widespread destruction, and endemic hostility. The US Civil War was different: it ended with the successful re-integration of the seceding states. This was in no small part due to the guidance of President Lincoln, whose wartime Second Inaugural address said “with malice toward none except the damn rebels, with charity toward all except the racist traitors.” You know the italicized words ring false because they weren’t there. Lincoln told Congress his plans to pardon the Confederate soldiers upon conclusion of the war. President Andrew Johnson issued a conditional pardon shortly after the war, and he followed that up with an unconditional pardon on Christmas day, 1868. Thus began the process of re-integration of the Union, which was uniquely successful.

Seidule confuses this part of the historical record with the shameful failure of Reconstruction, the abandonment of the freedmen, the introduction of Jim Crow and the racism in both north and south that continued to the Civil Rights era. These things did follow, but they were not necessarily caused by the pardoning process, which worked. He suggests any reference (picture, naming, statue, etc,) to Lee is part and parcel of the Lost Cause mythology and therefor suspect. Seidule rightly holds dear to the US Constitution and the oath that he and I took to defend it against all enemies, foreign and domestic. Yet that pardoning power is part of that same Constitution, and he rejects it. Here his anger at being misled gets the better of his argument.

Robert E. Lee was a great leader and a fine military officer. He was also a racist who personally benefited from, and directed the mistreatment of, slaves. He was at once refined AND cruel, educated AND ignorant, kind AND intolerant. The author is right to decry the fact he was led to believe only one side of history. Would that he had heeded that advice here.

My verdict: if you were led to believe only in the ‘sainthood’ of Robert E. Lee, this work is a powerful corrective. If you were ever exposed to the more complicated story of Lee and the South, you’ll find much of this book unsurprising.

Manzanillo, Colima

We decided to take short trip (this week) out of lakeside to see the Pacific Ocean, and we chose the port of Manzanillo (Mahn-zah-NYEE-oh) in the state of Colima. Mexico’s Pacific coast is full of promising locations to visit, from Los Cabos on the tip of the Baja Peninsula to Mazatlan, Puerto Vallarta, Manzanillo, and finally Acapulco. While Acapulco was the first of these to breakthrough as a tourist destination in the 1940s, Puerto Vallarta is undoubtedly the most popular today. Why Manzanillo? Why not?

The bay from our balcony

What makes Manzanillo different from the other tourist destinations mentioned above is its status as Mexico’s largest port, and the main hub for Mexican trade across the Pacific. This gives the town a working-class patina that probably would never let it turn into a full-scale tourist town. Still, it does have a fair number of tourists, especially Canadians and Mexicans (we arrived on Constitution Day, a federal holiday in Mexico, and many Mexican families were ending a long weekend visit at the condominio where we stayed).

What’s the draw? It is easy to reach from Guadalajara, with only a four hour drive from lakeside (assuming I’m driving! “Your mileage may vary” as they say.). The weather is beach classic: averaging around eighty-five degrees Fahrenheit in February, with lows in the mid-sixties. It is much less crowded: no cruise ship stops, and fewer direct flights from the States (four) or Canada (only one), and more than a days drive from the border. For these reasons, Manzanillo is far less expensive than other Pacific resorts, especially Puerto Vallarta. Both have restaurants, resorts, hotels, and attractions across the price range, but generally they will be less expensive in Manzanillo.

We’re not big on water sports, but Manzanillo is. It fancies itself as the sail-fishing capital of the world, and holds an annual contest to back up the claim. There’s a near-shore shipwreck for scuba and snorkel fans, plenty of public beaches (all are in Mexico), and fishing and whale-watching boat charters galore, with options to drink enough to see whales whether they’re there or not!

As one would expect, the food in general–and the seafood in particular, has been very good:

Two large appetizers, two full main plates, two glasses of wine ran us under $50 USD (beats Red Lobster, no?). We regularly drove out of our condominio and visited places along the main drag in town and found it easy to navigate and perfectly safe. We especially liked a small local restaurant called Juanitos, which was packed with locals for breakfast.

One final note. If you’re like me, you might have confused Manzanillo with La Manzanilla (both are named for the Manzanilla tree, used by Spanish explorers in Mexico to build ships to cross the Pacific as early as 1522!). La Manzanilla is a much smaller fishing village north of Manzanillo. If you’re trying to get totally away from the tourist vibe, you’ll want to try La Manzanilla. Both are worth a visit, based on what friends have told me.

Final verdict: Manzanillo is budget-friendly, easy to reach (for expats), with great beach weather and ample beaches, and excellent water sports. I would recommend it for those who find large tourist destinations too crowded or expensive, but who still seek the classic Mexican beach vacation on the Pacific side.

Comings & Goings

Something about the date today got me thinking, and I suddenly realized we’re approaching our fifth anniversary (February 1st, 2017) of moving to Mexico. Tempus fugit and all that. Which got me to thinking about what has changed, what hasn’t, what’s new, what isn’t and all other things expat.

The climate remains spectacular. I’m sitting on my terraza looking out at the lake at 9:00 in the morning in late January, wearing shorts and a t-shirt. The sky is blue, with just a few puffy clouds, and the temperature will hit seventy degrees Fahrenheit shortly; next week we’ll reach eighty. All this with no threat of hurricanes, tornadoes, tsunamis, earthquakes . . . wait, we do have an active volcano, but it’s far away and not that active, I think. Anyway, the climate is still as good as advertised. Some expats claim it is getting colder in winter (due to climate change) but the weather data has changed little. I know that these five years have weathered me to the point I no longer handle cold well. I used to run in the snow in a t-shirt and shorts; now fifty degrees gives me the chills.

The Mexican people are as friendly and welcoming as ever. One would think the pandemic might have put a dent in their good humor, but they choose to look at it all as just another part of life. No carping about difficulties in getting vaccines or masks. No complaining about restrictions, except in that like all government rules, they may be more honored in the breach. Few people getting all exercised about other people’s pandemic behavior, with the exception of a television announcer in Guadalajara:

Turns out he’s more of a performer than a newscaster!

In general, life continues apace here in Mexico. The government never (really) closed the borders, only shut things down for a week here or there, and mandated some performative measures. Some stores or restaurants still have a wet rag on the floor at the entrance, to “sterilize” your shoes before entering, from back when health officials thought Covid was a contact threat. You step on it, then on a dry rag next to it, pump some anti-bacterial gel onto your hands and enter. Sometimes someone waves a magic thermometer at you: they keep trying until they get a result allowing you to enter. Go figure: the results in illness, hospitalization, and death rates are about the same here as in the States, just without all the drama.

It is still cheap to live here, although housing and rental prices have become challenging to some. Mexico’s inflation rate was over seven percent last year, but the peso exchange rate has varied between twenty and twenty-two pesos per dollar, effectively negating the inflationary effect on expats. The rising cost of living is reflected in a rising federal minimum wage ($173 MXP, or about eight dollars a day), which in turn raises the amount needed for an expat to qualify as a temporary or permanent resident. Likewise, Mexico is tightening its immigration enforcement, meaning we’ll see fewer digital nomads (younger folks working online), fewer boomers retiring to Mexico to live on just Social Security, and fewer free spirits who just come with a backpack and overstay their tourist visas.

What about the current expat composition? Snowbird numbers were down during the pandemic, even though the airline routes remained available. The sizable population of Canadian snowbirds (loons?) suffered some pretty strict federal rules that severely limited their ability to visit. Ottawa used everything from threatening to eliminate access to health care to mandatory, supervised, and expensive quarantines to reduce the number of Canadians travelling abroad. American snowbirds numbers were somewhat reduced due to fear of getting severely ill in another country, but are beginning to rebound. Why? During an average year, about one million baby boomers retire (those numbers usually declined during recessions); during this pandemic, the number of baby boomers retiring has more than tripled and appears to be accelerating! All of them have to go somewhere.

Those in the States already know about the nation-wide escalation in home prices, and it’s especially fierce in warmer, nicer places to retire. We have seen a small increase in housing costs here, but much more of an active market, as the wave of baby boomers look south at the same time the newly-retiring Mexican middle class catches on to the notion of a leisurely retirement in a great location (rather than staying put in the family home).

And these trends prove out in the anecdotes we hear, and our own experiences. While construction has slowed during the pandemic, many new projects are suddenly springing up or back-to-life. Our web boards and social media are filled with potential expats asking the usual questions, planning a reconnaissance trip, or announcing they’re in town and looking to make new friends. Some of the long-term expats we arrived with (or shortly behind) are looking to return to the States, for all the usual reasons: increasing health concerns, separation from family, or death of a spouse. There is a constant churn among the expat community for these reasons, none of which reflect on any expat’s rejection of lakeside, but simply a change in life circumstances necessitating a change in domicile. Speaking of change of domicile, we moved late last year, and I will soon have a little tour of our new place in another post.

What’s the verdict, five years in? Of course we still love it here, or else we wouldn’t have gone all-in in buying a new house. All the things we loved about the town and the country continued; we have added a few new ones. We never anticipated being expats in the midst of a pandemic, but I would argue it has been easier here than anywhere else. Mexico presents no challenges to our ability to travel the world or to return to the States as often as we like: no requirements whatsoever from this end. We ended up being the only members of our immediate family able and willing to travel, so we went to see everyone else as they hunkered down: South Bend, Cincinnati, Baltimore, Wolfeboro (NH). Whenever a country decided it could safely allow tourists, we jumped on the bandwagon: Greece in June, Italy in November. We will continue the torrid pace this year, with a French river cruise plus land tour in May, Thanksgiving in Italy with a side tour to Sicily, and another round of visits to family. All this is made possible by the low cost of living and the ease of travel. And as Mexico seems to be moving to treat Covid as an endemic disease, we plan to take more local trips to places like Manzanillo, Guanajuato, and Oaxaca.

While the increasing number of expats locally do clog up the relatively small number of streets in our little town, I can’t get angry about it. Being an expat is not for everyone, but for those who relish a little spice in life, it is wonderful. I can’t bring myself to get angry about folks who are just trying to discover (like we did) whether the expat life is right for them!

Civil War? Part III

A violent mob attacks a US government building, seizes and occupies it, and attempts to incite a larger revolt. Order is only restored after violence resulting in the deaths of several of the attackers. The press, local and national, provides immediate coverage of a national sensation, calling the attack an “insurrection”, “rebellion,” or “treason.” The surviving attackers are put on trial. Some media relentlessly hype the story, assessing the profound implications of the attack, how things have permanently changed, that some people can no longer be trusted in any way, that there is no way to compromise with evil.

January 6th, 2021? Nope. October 16th, 1859. The attack is now known as John Brown’s Raid on the federal armory in Harper’s Ferry, Virginia. The parallels are frightening, but instructive. No one called it a raid at the time: that was a convention which only happened after the Union won the civil war. It was an insurrection or treason, and those who engaged in it were so charged and executed. The raucous press came from the technological wonders of the telegraph, just then becoming the means of instantaneous communication. The obsessive media coverage was in the South, which not only viewed the attack as the last straw, but used it to further inflame popular opinion. John Brown’s intent to incite a nation-wide slave revolt struck deeply at the fears of Southern plantation life, where hundreds of such revolts (large and small) had created an atmosphere of panic which only needed a small nudge to disunion.

As a spark along the lines of John Brown’s raid, January 6th pales in comparison. Yes, it was ugly, a stain on our nation’s record, and totally unnecessary. But the proximate cause of our next civil war? Sorry, no. For a moment, let’s consider the counterfactual case: this was the spark, it does lead to civil war. What would that look like? Let’s start with some data, shall we?

This graphic shows how the US voted, county by county, in the 2020 election.

File: 2020 United States presidential election results map by county.svg
2020 by county election results, from ABC News

The traditional analysis of this data is the US is a “sea of red” areas with little population surrounding isolated blue city-states. One could imagine a contiguous Red-state region comprising the south, midwest, and mountain states, with blue territory in the DC-Boston corridor, the Pacific Northwest, and Arizona/New Mexico. But such a configuration is more illusory than real. Illinois is a blue state; the area east of the Cascade mountains is quite red. Urban areas across the South are big and blue. There are areas where one can never run into a person of a different political perspective (think Roberts County, Texas, or San Francisco), and Americans are increasingly moving to places which align with their political views, but that doesn’t (yet) make either side a coherent nation when looking at the state level. Which means a Second American Civil War would not be an organized one with armies marching on Capitals, but a disorganized one, pitting armed groups against one another. Less Gettysburg, more like Bleeding Kansas.

Where food is produced (green for crops, orange for herds):

Where are people making money from crops and where from livestock?
From Vox: crops and livestock measured by value produced

There is an obvious advantage to the wide-open red spaces in that that is where much (but not all!) of the food is produced. The longer the disunited battles go on, the more important the need for food. Sieges and starvation are huge weapons to be wielded under such circumstances. However, the other side of the coin is transportation:

Peter Zeihan's tweet - "Graphic share: This is one of my favs. US transport  nodes by tonnage, overlaid with American manufacturing regions. Because of  the Jones Act we primarily use the rivers
USDoT (dated, but still accurate)

It goes without saying that all forms of transport (and communication) go through urban hubs. So while red areas may produce the food, they will find it difficult to share it, and even more difficult to communicate. To borrow a military term, blue city states may have “interior lines of communication” which give them a natural advantage against larger red areas.

Speaking of forces here are the US Armed Forces totals, 2020:

ground forces total 1.3 million (statista.com)

But where do these service members come from?

Representative data from the Council on Foreign Relations

I have seen some pundits smirking that whoever tries to start a civil war will be no match for the US military. That is true of course, but neither were the Mujaheddin. The US military was totally unprepared to pacify a small place like Iraq, let alone red or blue America. Occupation and pacification is manpower intensive, and the US military simply “does not have the dudes” as my boss used to say. On top of that, more of those in uniform come from red areas, and while some would honor their oath to the Constitution, others would interpret it differently (same as it ever was). The US military would be riven by the same divisiveness as the rest of the country.

Speaking of weapons, here is a 2020 breakdown on the twenty states with the largest registered gun totals:

Who has all those guns? Progressives?

The key word above is registered. Only 6 million of the 390 million firearms in the US are registered (according to the Pew Research Center). Read that again. And the vast majority of these weapons are in red hands, in red areas.

So where does the data lead us? We have to make two assumptions here. Which side is provoking the action, and which side is trying to be “left alone” rather than dictate to the other side. I think it is fair to argue red America would be more likely to provoke, but also is more likely to want to be left alone. These are arguable assumptions, but we need to make them to push the analysis forward.

After the “spark,” one would see declarations by various states and areas denying federal control or jurisdiction. Local militias set up roadblocks or engage in raids to seize key infrastructure or to terrorize adjacent population centers. Some rural, red areas would sit out the conflict, either siding with their blue state government (Illinois? New York?) or just passively watching and waiting. Likewise, some major urban areas in the south would choose to go with the red flow. Some deep red areas would barely notice a change: a farmer in Iowa might wonder what all the fuss was about?

Blue citizens in the cities would feel a pinch first. Things like water supplies, power generation, even airports are far enough from urban centers to be at risk of occupation. Of course everyone would notice the stoppage of the free flow of goods and people: something far more drastic and uncertain than anything during the pandemic or even 9-11. One real wild card is information flow in this information age. Blue America would hold an advantage here, with an early monopoly on broadcast and social media. But, it is hard to deny broad area access to the internet for extended periods of time. More likely, information access would be a bargaining chip played against other essentials (water or power, for example).

All this happens as a million scores are settled across the land. Red Americans living in the cities will uproot and flee just as rural or suburban blue Americans do the same when violence, or just the threat of violence, beckons. America is a country with a high tolerance for violence, and a second civil war would challenge the upper limit. The absence of pitched battles does not mean the absence of large numbers of casualties.

Both sides would be exhausted within months. Assuming red America just wants to be left alone, there is no need for storming the Hudson river bridges and occupying Wall Street (literally). Blue America would fairly quickly realize there is no way to force red America to capitulate, and where is Idaho, anyway? Negotiations begin, and some of the more moderate people on both sides would question whether the fighting was really worth it. There is no simple geographical resolution, no two-state solution, as the fighting would have made clear. Who gets the nukes? Who gets the federal debt? The infrastructure was unified and can’t be apportioned. How does the place formerly known as America begin to function again?

I bet the daunting nature of the challenges, the horror at the damages inflicted, and the dim prospects for the future would serve to further a tacit re-integration of the United States of America. The peace process would probably include a constitutional convention to address the root causes and prevent a relapse. Some state boundaries would be re-aligned, and states would acquire more authority over theirs laws and resources, to the cost of the federal government. Red states would use this new authority to cement certain cherished conservative positions (e.g., guns, abortion, voter fraud) and blue states would do the obverse. Blue states would seek to limit resources transfers (via the federal government) to red states. If federal authority is lessened, the US might end up with a weakened President and Executive Branch, a single (unicameral) legislature with a mixed representation by state and perhaps other groups, and a more limited Supreme Court. Deep scars would remain, and the re-United States would need a legal remedy to address the war crimes, expropriations, and other calamities.

In this analysis, red and blue America waste countless lives and treasure to end up back where they started, only greatly reduced and with an enforced national commitment to be civil again. Hardly the stuff of patriot dreams. This is only one hypothetical analysis, but the data provided earlier has real and strong implications. It doesn’t require the gift of foresight to know widespread violence rarely leads to a better life. The common folk, red and blue, know this. Southern newspapers inflamed their readers after Harper’s Ferry, so much so that the South began secession before Lincoln even took office! When you hear talk of another civil war today, ask yourself, “are they trying to prevent it, or foment it?”

Civil War? Part II

Much of the recent focus on the possibility of another American Civil War stems from the coverage of the anniversary of the January 6th attack on the US Capitol. I made the case in the last post that this focus on a potential spark misses the point: we aren’t ready for a spark. But what might push the red and blue extremes to make the psychic break that violence is necessary, and therefor create the conditions for a future spark and conflagration?

The key question is how much respect there is–on either side–for the system of government.

During the first civil war, Lincoln famously made the conflict all about the Union, that is, the system which bound the states together.

If I could save the Union without freeing any slave I would do it, and if I could save it by freeing all the slaves I would do it; and if I could save it by freeing some and leaving others alone I would also do that.

Abraham Lincoln in a letter to Horace Greeley

While Lincoln later ennobled the effort to save the Union by including emancipation, his initial impulse was telling: the American system was worth saving at any cost.

The Confederacy also paid mock tribute from their side, borrowing much language from the US Constitution and making the argument that the issue was state’s rights, not slavery (a red herring, but the attempt shows how important was the need to justify the conflict in terms of the existing governmental system.).

Today there is ample evidence for conern that both sides show fundamental distrust for the American system.

How are our norms holding up? It is easy to point out Team Trump’s “deep state” conspiracy, and Trump himself was to political decorum what Genghis Khan was to the law of war. Now President Biden has called the other side traitors favoring a return to Jim Crow. Senator McConnell famously fiddled with US Supreme Court vacancies, making up new traditions as he went. Majority Leader Schumer is calling to ease the filibuster (he might want to whisper in the ear of the late Harry Reid as he lies in state in the US Capitol, and ask how that might work out the next time Republicans are in control of the Senate). For forty years Republican Presidents found their Supreme Court Justices never quite worked out the way they intended; now Democrats insist the court must be term-limited, expanded, or otherwise neutered to the left’s taste. Don’t even mention the electoral college: I don’t blame the average American for not knowing why we have one, or what purpose it serves. And the constant refrain of “American Democracy” has had the predictable effect of leading people to wonder why the popular vote is irrelevant. All of which is to say, yes, our norms are up for debate by both sides, with neither side seeming to understand that if the rules of the games are gone, we are about to engage in political Calvin Ball.

calvin and hobbes calvinball | Calvin and Hobbes Comic Strips | Calvin and  hobbes comics, Calvin and hobbes, Comic strips
Ahhh, Calvin ball!

Well, at least we have legitimate elections, right?

Again, Trump’s nascent 2024 campaign seems to be predicated on discredited theories about voter fraud in the 2020 result. And various GOP state parties are trying to amend state election rules to permit political officials to overrule vote counts. But then don’t forget all those who claim the Supreme Court “stole” the 2000 election (they didn’t, according to the NY Times AND the Washington Post), or that the Russians engineered Trump’s 2016 victory because he was their Manchurian Candidate (he wasn’t, and the Steele dossier was garbage). Stacey Abrams claims she lost the 2018 Georgia Governor’s race due to voter suppression in an election where Georgia registered the greatest increase in average voter participation of any state in thirty years. And now Republicans are banking on rolling back more liberal voting rules introduced for the pandemic, and Democrats are calling it Jim Crow 2.0. Except for one small point. There is no evidence greater turnout favors Democrats or hurts Republicans. There is also very little evidence easy registration, drop boxes, early voting rules, absentee ballots or voter identification laws affect voter turnout. Both sides are posturing about this, and calling into question every election at every level of government. If elections are only legitimate when your sides wins, you have a problem.

What about the ability of the American system to force compromise? That too hangs in the balance. Both sides agree the Electoral Act of 1887 needs to be updated to rule out the type of shenanigans Trump’s lawyers peddled about the electoral count. Yet the Democrats haven’t moved on it. Republicans won’t support any form of lifting the debt limit. The Congress passed the infrastructure bill with bipartisan support, but the Democrats insist on stuffing the Build Back Better bill with items even all the Democrats can’t agree on. Both sides and both Houses are set to pass a budget resolution, but mostly because it will reinstate earmarks (designated pork for one’s constituents). I guess that is some hope: Congress can still agree on bacon.

If you’ve read this far, you may be wondering how I come to the conclusion that we’re not ready for a spark. Our norms are under attack, elections results are questioned, our legislature gridlocked. That’s not a pretty picture, but both sides are still fighting within the system. I don’t think the system is healthy right now; I do think that if either side continues to over-react by challenging the system itself, we will set the stage for eventual violence.

What that may look like I’ll consider in part III.

Civil War? Part I

A Canadian academic warns that Canada needs to be prepared for the break-up of it southern neighbor. American academics are far beyond that, warning the nation is on the brink of falling into authoritarianism. US General Officers warn the US military is not prepared for–but should be prepared to suppress– insurrection. President Biden likened the January 6th, 2021, riot to an insurrection (a “knife at the throat of our democracy”), and many more commentators called it the first shot in an increasingly violent political battle. A recent poll found one-third of Americans believe it may be necessary (under some circumstances) to take violent action against the federal government!

I agree we live in volatile times, bordering on the violent. The increasing number of road rage incidents and other violent crimes, and the general state of discourse on social media all confirm it. People are on edge, that is unarguable. But civil war?

I’ll take a few blog posts to talk through why civil wars happen, how they happen, and even consider what another American civil war would look like. To begin, I don’t think a civil war is particularly likely. Too much is made of recent history like the January 6th attack on the Capitol, and not enough attention is paid to deeper trends which are much more important.

First off, why do civil wars happen? They are not accidents of history; they require certain fundamental precedents, much like a wildfire requires a dry spell and under-brush. The most fundamental requirement is deep-seated resentment. Groups have to fear one another, loathe one another, separate from one another, and finally hate one another. The reason is immaterial: the attitude is all important.

Next, for cause, there is the absolute necessity for either side to decide there is no way out except through fighting. This is the realization that despite all the pain and suffering envisioned, the only choice is war. This hurdle is the most difficult to surmount. People understand that civil war brings immense uncertainty to their lives, so they don’t undertake it lightly. If there is an alternative, they will usually choose it.

Finally, the resentment and resignation (to fight), like a wildfire, needs a spark. Something happens which crystallizes the thinking of one side or the other: Things will not get better. Mind you, you may need more than one spark. Leading up to the American Civil War, there were crises over Missouri, Kansas, Texas, California, the Supreme Court ruling on the Fugitive Slave Act (Ableman v. Booth), John Brown’s raid, and finally the election of 1860. Ernest Hemingway’s famous comment about how bankruptcy occurs applies here: “Slowly, and then suddenly.”

So where does the United States stand today against these criteria? We certainly have deep-seated resentments among the polar ends of the political spectrum. Progressives and Trumpsters have nothing but venom for one another, and those of us in the middle often get lumped in with one side or the other for any attempt to provide balance or perspective. While most Americans fall somewhere in between the political extremes, the activists on either side–and the media on either side–work hard to divide. At this they are succeeding.

Capitol Police intelligence report before Jan. 6 riot warned 'Congress  itself' could be targeted: report | Fox News
Not a good look

Has either side decided there is no way out except for fighting? No, but the trends are not good. The Capitol riot was a horrible affair from start to finish, and the President’s intent (even in the rally) was to intimidate the Congress (and the Vice President) into changing the electoral outcome. It was an ill-conceived, poorly planned, and ultimately unsuccessful effort, but the violence it condoned was another escalatory step. On the other side, Progressives explained away the violence of the Black Lives Matter movement as “understandable” and also excused the anarchist violence against the government in Seattle and the Pacific Northwest. Not at all the same thing, but yet also steps in the wrong direction.

These steps were less important in my opinion than the current moves afoot to change our system of government–or its norms. I will address these changes, and the dangers they pose, in the next bog post. Suffice it to say the current focus on whether January 6th, or the mid-terms, or the 2024 election could be the spark to civil war puts the cart before the horse. Neither side has made the determination that only violence will succeed. But that determination may be forthcoming if it looks like the governmental system itself is up for debate.

Book Report: Rescuing Socrates

Authored by Roosevelt Montás, the senior lecturer in American Studies at Columbia University, this work answers the question “what is the value of a traditional liberal education?” The full title is Rescuing Socrates: How the Great Books Changed My Life and Why They Matter for a New Generation. I am not a fan of putting the full thesis of the work in the subtitle, but then again, no one can complain they were misled about what they were about to read!

Montás is a capable writer, and this work is part autobiography and part argument for a traditional liberal education. By that he means an undergraduate curriculum focused on intense study of the classics of Western philosophy and literature. This is the program he went through as an undergraduate, and it deeply affected him, so much so he dedicated his teaching career to carrying on the tradition.

Thus his arguments do not stem from a neutral perspective, nor does he try to marshal an imposing array of data to support his points. This does not slight his work, which remains powerful based on his personal experience. Through a variety of helpful government, charitable, and fraternal organizations, he moved from a tiny village in the Dominican Republic to New York City, where he eventually lands a scholarship to Columbia and engages its Core Curriculum, one of the few such programs in the country.

Montás begins by describing the original intent of a university education, an intent long lost in modern America: not to earn a good living, but to lead a good life. Working skills were taught by the trades, and were (and still are) an effective means to earn a good living. But what constitutes a life well-lived? Such a challenge requires serious engagement with “what is good?” and “how would we know?” While the classics of Western thought may be of little value in programming the next immersive digital experience, they are critical to those looking for answers to those nagging “why?” questions. Montás believes everyone–even students looking for a solid STEM education–would benefit from an engagement with the classics. A point I would add in his favor: if a person like Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg had spent more time engaging the classics at Harvard, he might not have made the naive mistake of thinking his social media project would only be used for good purposes!

Montás eschews the typical partisan battles about “dead white males” or “what constitutes the Western Canon” by stating of course the material can be enlarged, but whatever is chosen must stand the test of quality and the test of time. For this work, he highlights Plato, St. Augustine, Freud, and Gandhi, winding together a short synopsis of what makes these thinkers “great” with how they affected him. He proofs his argument by including Freud and Gandhi: the former is largely discredited but has a profound influence on society, the latter a modern and non-“Western.” Of the four parts, I found the one on Freud the least interesting, since it leads into Montás personal experience with psychoanalysis, which to me is as useful as astrology (Hey, I’m a Libra!).

I came to this book as a true believer, already convinced of the value of such an education. University curricula today have become à la carte offerings that leave dedicated students with marketable skills but little balance, little depth, and little ability to argue persuasively. One only need look at social media to see the paucity of serious engagement. I hoped for a juggernaut of an argument, but Montás presents more of a personal plea, citing his own rise. This is effective, even if I wanted more.

The book is an easy read, and provides nice summaries of the four great thinkers for those who may have forgotten–or never had the chance to engage with–them. I sincerely hope more parents encourage students to demand a rigorous core curriculum in place of the thin gruel offered today. Some will benefit greatly, and all will benefit some. The rest of us will benefit from a more intelligent discourse!

Vicenza, Italy

You probably have no reason to visit Vicenza, Italy, unless you happen to have family living there, like we do. There’s a US military base there, and it’s a very interesting place, but off the tourist beaten path. Just in case you’re ever in the Veneto region, visiting that tourist mecca called Venice, here’s what your missing if you don’t go forty minutes down the autostrada and visit Vicenza.

Palladio, all in the Christmas spirit

Vicenza was home to one Andrea di Pietro della Gondola, aka Palladio. Never heard of him? Me neither! He was an architect and the last of the great Renaissance artists, and his style modeled ancient Rome and Greece, earning him the nickname Palladio. Even if you have never seen his original work, you know his derivative work very well. Palladio was born in nearby Padova but was given free reign to redesign the city center (and several villas outside) of Vicenza, making the town his canvas. Here are some of his works:

Piazza by night with Christmas lights (and my grandkids, hamming it up)

Seem vaguely familiar? See, a few hundred years later, on the far side of the Atlantic, a group of Americans were taken with his style, and that led to some monuments in his style:

Palladio is called the Father of American architecture for his influence, especially on Washington, DC and the Capital region. So you can see Palladio’s work in DC, or in Italy. The food’s better in Italy.

Palladio’s tomb, renovated by the American Society for Architectural Historians
When in Vicenza, eat the cod & polenta

Speaking of food, expect all manner of northern Italian cuisine, a small number of Japanese, Chinese, or Indian restaurants, and a few burger or BBQ joints for the Americans. One Balkan, no French, no German, no–well, you get the point. All of Italy’s regions are proud of their local cuisines, and that is what is available. In Vicenza, the local specialty is imported, dried Norwegian cod with polenta called Bacalà alla Vicentina. Why? Some poor local went to work in Venice in the last millennium, and got shipwrecked on an island off the coast of Norway for a few years. He developed a taste for the dried, salted cod there, then brought it back with him when he returned home. For the past seven hundred years, locals have been importing the same dried, salted cod, re-hydrating it with various sauces, and serving it as the city’s special dish. here’s a hint: to our uneducated palates, the cod can be a bit strong (as in fishy), so get it as a lunch or appetizer to avoid taste fatigue.

Teatro Olympico exterior

One final Palladio masterpiece is the Teatro Olympico, the world’s oldest (continuously operating) brick theater. The theater is a remarkable bit of faux design, looking like a large Roman amphitheater carved out of stone, but in reality a brick, mortar, and wood replica using visual tricks to recreate a street scene in ancient Greece as the original scene-set backdrop, which was so convincing it has never been changed. Not to spoil the surprise, but the optical illusions and slights-of-hand Palladio employed were world-class special effects in any age!

Interior: All faux!

Another local hero is Antonio Pigafetta. Who? He was the first person to complete a circumnavigation of the globe. Wait, what, you thought that was Magellan? Magellan was hated by his crew, and was killed by irate islanders in the Philippines, never completing his voyage. Pigafetta was a scholar invited to document the journey, and ended up leading the remaining eighteen crewmen (out of two hundred forty who started) back to Spain. Pigafetta is thus the first one to circumnavigate the globe, the answer to a great trivia question, and he’s buried in his beloved Vicenza.

Da Porto’s tomb

In another similar story, you might have heard of the great Vicentina love story of Romeo & Giulietta? The original novel of star-crossed lovers was written by local Luigi Da Porto, a retired military man looking for an outlet for his creativity while recovering from battle wounds. He gazed out his window at two distant castles and imagined two families, a feud, and their ill-fated children, all set in nearby Verona. His work of fiction caught the eye of the Bard of Avon (aka Shakespeare) who turned it into the far more famous play Romeo & Juliet. Sort of an early version of a remix.

Vicenza was home to many silver- and goldsmiths, so it has a reputation for fine jewelry in addition to the fine arts. It was usually under the influence or protection of neighboring Venice, and the Venetian link is obvious.

The winged Lion, characteristic of St Mark, and Venice
Street scene

The weather was c-c-c-cold. Judy noticed it last year; this year it hit me: we’ve acclimatized to Mexico. As in, we don’t do “weather.” In Mexico, it is always sunny and warm. There is always around twelve hours of daylight per day (actually, between eleven and thirteen, but just). There are only two seasons and only one that needs a raincoat or umbrella, and then mostly in the evening. Vicenza is in the far north of Italy, within site of the Dolomite Alps, so we have overnight lows in the twenties and daytime highs in the forties: brrrrr. We didn’t mind wearing masks everywhere, as it covered our otherwise-exposed faces!

Speaking of masks, Italy re-entered the Omicron wave of the pandemic while we visited, so mask wearing (even outside) became the rule. All stores/restaurants/museums asked for the Italian Green Pass (which is not available to tourists) but accepted our CDC card in its stead.

We look forward to visiting the our family (and the region) again when it’s short-sleeve weather!

The Cathedral and old city, with the Alps in the background

Book Report: Forget the Alamo

Why a book report? Why not?

Forget the Alamo is a new work by Bryan Burrough, a onetime Wall Street Journal reporter who now writes at times for Vanity Fair. He has several well-received books, including Barbarians at the Gates (about the takeover of RJR Nabisco) and Public Enemies (about the birth of the FBI). This work takes on the legendary siege at the Mision San Antonio de Valera, a staple of Texas history (where he grew up). His co-authors are Chris Tomlinson and Jason Stanford. I will refer to them collectively as Burrough.

Burrough admits early on, and repeats in summary, that this is not strictly speaking a work of history. He calls it historiography, or a history of the history of how various groups have used the events of the siege to their own ends. Needless to say (based on the title), he believes most of those who cherish the legend are wrong, either in what they believe (the defenders were heroic, they were fighting for freedom, they died to-a-man while fighting) or what they believe in (Anglo superiority, anti-Mexican hate, general hatred of immigrants, macho sexism, or simple racism).

Burrough writes with a clean style and has ample footnotes to work by historians. I find his attempts at humor, introducing today’s jargon for example, as off-putting, but some may enjoy them. His storytelling skills remain strong, and while you never doubt where his sympathies lie, he keeps the narration interesting.

The main challenge this book presents is Burrough’s contention that we should reject the dominant narrative–and he readily admits this narrative is dominant–of heroic Alamo fighters dying in defense of freedom. His bases this claim on a number of supporting points. First, the Anglo settlers in Mexican Tejas were mainly interested in cotton-growing and slavery, and that was the purpose of the secession movement from Mexico. Second, the defense of the Alamo was a colossal military blunder by Colonel Bowie and Sam Houston, so the siege never should have happened. Third, it is uncertain whether the defenders died heroically: some may have been captured, others may have been cut down running away outside the walls. Fourth, General Santa Ana and the Mexican Army have become the bogeymen of the drama. Finally, various groups (e.g., the KKK, Confederates, bigots and racists) have used the Alamo legend to their own unfortunate ends. Let’s deal with each in turn, from last to first.

Obviously, the fact that some malign groups misuse the Alamo legend is no reason to forget what happened there. The most powerful piece of evidence Burrough presents is testimony by many Texas Latinos who grew up feeling as American as apple pie until they took the school-sponsored, mandatory, seventh-grade field trip to the Alamo, where they saw themselves portrayed as the enemy. No one should doubt their stories, and there is ample reason to tell the entire Alamo story, not just the part with heroic white guys dying at the hands of evil brown guys. Yet Burrough must know, in fact he even explains, why this happened. The two groups of settlers in Mexican Tejas were long-standing Tejanos (of Spanish/Mexican descent) and Anglo newcomers called either Texians or Texicans. The Tejanos wanted Tejas to provoke a change in the Mexican federal government toward greater federalism, while the Anglos wanted independence from Mexico. The Texians ended up winning, and the Tejanos were relegated to a side-story in the history of what became American Texas. Their story deserves to be told; some Tejanos died at the Alamo. As Churchill reportedly said however, “History is written by the victors.”

As to General Antonio López de Santa Anna, little needs to be done to confirm his role as a very bad person. He was a slippery leader who moved seamlessly from side to side in the Mexican War of Independence and had a preternatural ability to recover from battlefield losses. He fought against the American government, sought their assistance, sold territory to them, and ceded all of California, New Mexico and Arizona after losing the 1848 war. His behavior on the battlefield in the Tejas campaign was both pitiful and dreadful (more on this later). As a braggart and a vicious bully, he is practically typecast. Even Mexicans consider him “one who failed the nation.”

Another argument Burrough presents is based on more recent evidence that the Anglo defenders did not all die where they stood: some were captured, others apparently sortied (leaving the fort) and were run down by Mexican cavalry. The new accounts come from Mexican military sources, which could present a bias, but let’s accept them at face value. Burrough’s analysis of these sources evinces a lack of military experience. Burrough cites evidence of Davy Crockett (and a few others) being summarily executed after the battle (at the command of Santa Ana) as proof they did not die heroically. A soldier may still be captured without surrendering. Ammunition spent, surrounded by a mass of enemy soldiers, you can swing your rifle and still be subdued. It has no bearing upon your heroism. Likewise, Burrough assumes the men who sortied were running away. With the fort overrun and again out of ammunition, it is natural to strike out away from the enemy. People jumped from the top of the World Trade Center when presented with no other choice; it was not a matter of dying without honor.

The argument over whether the Alamo battle was a blunder is also misguided. True, Sam Houston sent Colonel Jim Bowie to the site to reconnoiter and if necessary, destroy the fort. Bowie recognized it was perhaps the only defensible site between where Santa Ana was marshaling his forces and the Brazos river, where Houston planned to marshal his. The Alamo was not much of a fort; Travis had only two hundred troops, and he would have needed more like one thousand to adequately defend it. However, having made the decision to stay, he counted on being reinforced by the 400 men in Goliad and more from Sam Houston. Neither arrived. Sam Houston thought Bowie was being hysterical, and Colonel James Fannin at Goliad dithered, only to later surrender to Santa Ana and have all his men massacred. In the end, Travis only got thirty volunteers from nearby Gonzales. They arrived after the siege began, demonstrating that the Alamo defenders could have still withdrawn after Santa Ana arrived and laid siege; that they didn’t stands as testament in their favor. Travis probably did not count on causing 600 Mexican casualties and slowing Santa Ana’s advance by two weeks; those were accidents of battle. But there is no way to consider the choice of battle site as a colossal mistake.

Finally, Burrough makes much of the seedy personal stories of men like Crockett and Travis and Bowie, and the reliance of the Anglo settlers on slavery. Crockett was a slimy politician, Bowie a drunk and a slave trader, Travis a deadbeat. Little is made of this in histories of the battle, since it has little to do with what happened inside the walls. These men were emblematic of Texicans in general: men looking for a second chance after failing elsewhere.

Burrough believes his most damning accusation is the Texican’s embrace of slavery. He treats this as a revelation, as if anyone even minimally aware of the history of Texas hadn’t heard it was a slave state that later fought with the Confederacy. Burrough admits the Anglos were invited to settle in Tejas, and slavery permitted, in a series of political compromises with the Mexican state and federal governments. The peace-loving Commanches had nearly depopulated the northern part of Tejas, and the government in Mexico City felt a wave of Anglo settlers might forestall more attacks and perhaps even rile the American government to eliminate the Commanches. It was only after Santa Ana reneged on these deals that the Tejanos supported a revolt (for greater state’s rights, of all things) and the Texicans did so too, to retain their cotton plantations and slaves. As Burrough’s footnotes point out, cotton prices went on a boom during this period, and Tejas had the land to support massive cotton production if slavery was permitted. It wasn’t that Texicans were dedicated slavers as much as they were a collection of desperate men trying out their luck in a situation that can only be described as “the wild west.” If beef or oil had been the hot commodity at that time, it would have been the cause of the revolt.

Perhaps the best work by Burroughs is when he describes the various machinations by the Daughters of the Republic of Texas (DRT), a lineal group who eventually came to own and mismanage the site. Theirs is a story right out of a sorority house, filled with infighting, cliques, and fierce resistance to any change. That they fatally mismanaged the site is proven by a simple visit. Like most visitors, I was stunned at the tawdry ring of wax museums and tourist kitsch surrounding the Alamo. Even the inside locations lacked adequate signage of what happened. Eventually, the Texas State Land Commission withdrew the DRT claim to manage the site, and a renovation has fallen to none other than George P. Bush (eldest son of Jeb). Good luck with that!

This book belongs to a genre that uses anachronistic arguments to attack various ‘sacred cows’ of American history. No one firing on the advancing Mexican army from behind the walls of the Alamo shouted “give me slavery or give me death!” Most of those killed there did not own slaves, yet slavery was a sticking point in the larger argument over Texas independence. The Alamo plays the role it does in Texas (and indeed, American) history for what happened during those thirteen days in February and March, 1836, not for slavery, Jim Crow, civil rights, or Black Lives Matter.

Burrough et al try too hard to forget the Alamo. I hope their work leads to increased interest in the full story, and a much better job at preservation by San Antonio and Texas.