Not-So-Honest Abe
Mention Lincoln in an unflattering (i.e., truthful) way, and Alan
Keyes, already a wide-eyed kook, practically froths at the mouth.
According to the orthodox theology, Lincoln is "Honest Abe," the
man who fulfilled the promise of the Declaration of Independence,
the saint who saved the Union and freed the slaves. He is a martyr
to freedom.
It is no wonder that Thomas J. DiLorenzo's new book, "The
Real Lincoln: A New Look at Abraham Lincoln, His Agenda and an Unnecessary
War," fell under attack even before it was published. DiLorenzo
is an economist at Loyola College in Maryland, and like any good
economist, DiLorenzo follows the money.
Lincoln's ambivalence toward slavery is well documented. As most
know, Lincoln said that if he could save the Union without freeing
a single slave he would do so. So, DiLorenzo searches Lincoln's
speeches, looking for Lincoln's real motive for refusing to let
the South go its own way.
The trail leads to Lincoln's political hero, Henry Clay, who envisioned
what he called the "American System."
The American System, the core of the Whig Party's political agenda,
was based on high protective tariffs, a centralized banking system
and "internal improvements," the last being what we now call "corporate
welfare."
Like most Republicans of his day, Lincoln began his career as a
Whig, and he was an enthusiastic supporter of Clay's program.
"When the Whig Party imploded in the mid-1850s, Lincoln switched
to the Republican Party," writes DiLorenzo, "but assured his Illinois
constituents that there was no difference between the two."
As a lawyer, Lincoln represented railroad companies, prime recipients
of government support under the Whig program. Lincoln was, in modern
terminology, a lobbyist.
When Lincoln finally attained the presidency, he was at last in
a position to reward the interests that had backed his political
career.
Unfortunately, such subsidies were an expensive proposition, especially
for the small federal government of the day. Lincoln needed all
of the tax revenue he could get, and Southern secession was a threat
to that revenue stream.
"[B]y 1860 the Southern states were paying in excess of 80 percent
of all tariffs," writes DiLorenzo. And although Lincoln did enact
the first (unconstitutional) income tax during the war, prior to
the war, the tariff was virtually the only source of income for
the federal government. Without the Southern ports that received
most of the country's imports, Lincoln could not possibly mount
his campaign for a larger federal government, handing out subsidies
to industrial interests.
But what of secession? If the South did not have the right to leave
the Union, if the Confederate leaders were all traitors, then Lincoln's
motivations may not be relevant.
Unlike some apologists for the Confederacy, DiLorenzo does not
fall into the trap of romanticizing the Old South or making excuses
for slavery. The evil of slavery is unquestionable. For DiLorenzo,
it is simply a matter of showing that the South had the right to
secede, for good or ill.
With an array of sources, he demonstrates that the South did have
the right to leave. Indeed, until Lincoln came along, the right
of secession was something upheld in both the South and the North.
In the early 1800s, New
England secessionists threatened to dissolve the Union over
issues ranging from the Louisiana Purchase to the War of 1812.
But what of slavery? Wasn't the war necessary to end its evil?
"Dozens of countries," writes DiLorenzo, "including possessions
of the British, French and Spanish empires, ended slavery peacefully
during the late eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Only in the
United States was warfare associated with emancipation." (Emphasis
in the original.)
Violence on the level of slave uprisings (as in Haiti) did occur,
but not warfare on the scale of the Civil War, which set the standard
for total warfare, from which not even noncombatants are safe.
Terrorizing civilians (including slaves) was common practice for
the Union army, DiLorenzo shows. He quotes Union Colonel John Beatty:
"Every time the telegraph wire was cut we would burn a house; every
time a train was fired upon we would hang a man; and we would continue
to do this until every house was burned and every man hanged between
Decatur and Bridgeport."
Walk through the historic district of Decatur, Ala., and you will
find it dominated by Victorian architecture. There is a reason for
that.
April 15, 2002 Franklin Harris [send him e-mail] is a newspaper reporter and columnist in Alabama. His Web site is www.pulpculture.net A version of this review appeared originally in The Decatur (Ala.) Daily. Copyright © 2002 LewRockwell.com |
DiLorenzo
makes a persuasive case that Lincoln's heroic reputation is undeserved.
Lincoln is the father of the centralized state, the architect of
unrestricted warfare and the president who, more than any other,
helped bring to an end the republic of the Founding Fathers.