Richard
Weaver: Historian of the South
by
Thomas E. Woods, Jr.
by Thomas E. Woods, Jr.
Along
with Russell Kirk and Robert Nisbet, Richard Weaver was one of the
most influential intellectuals of the postwar conservative renascence
in America. A professor of English at the University of Chicago,
Weaver was also a scholar of Southern history, and his defense of
Southern civilization was at once so elegant and insightful that
historians continue to study and discuss his work some forty years
after his untimely death. Although despised in fashionable circles,
the South, Weaver believed, possessed insight and wisdom that a
world increasingly enticed by liberalism (in the American sense)
neglected at its peril.
In
1830, one of the most famous debates in American history occurred
between Massachusetts Senator Daniel Webster and South Carolina
Senator Robert Hayne. Weaver analyzed the debate in his essay "Two
Orators," and much of what in Weaver’s judgment separated North
and South politically, culturally, and ideologically came through
in this celebrated exchange. Before a packed and rapturously attentive
Senate chamber, the two men delivered a total of five speeches,
in which they examined the nature of the American Union.
According
to Hayne, the American Union was formed by distinct American states,
acting in their sovereign capacity to establish a federal government
to act as their agent in a few clearly specified areas. The political
consequences of this view were plain. The United States was composed
of independent, sovereign political communities, which retained
all powers not delegated to the federal government, and which as
sovereign states could, through secession, recall the powers delegated
to that government. That Hayne’s position possessed merit was evident
in the grammatical construction people generally used when speaking
about the United States: the United States are rather than
the United States is.
Webster,
on the other hand, argued that the Union had been formed by the
entire American people in the aggregate. In Webster’s conception,
therefore, secession (and the less extreme method of resistance
to unconstitutional federal action known as nullification) was metaphysically
impossible. The Union was not, at root, a confederation of states,
but rather an indivisible whole.
Weaver
frequently observed that the Southerner was very much a local person,
devoted to his particular plot of land and skeptical of distant
authorities or grandiose political schemes – and he perceived this
attachment to the locality in Hayne’s remarks before the Senate.
Hayne’s historical argument, Weaver wrote, "was devoted to
the proposition that the United States had been founded primarily
to secure the blessings of liberty. For Hayne the implication was
clear that liberty required the independence and dignity of the
parts, with local attention to and disposition of local affairs.
In what may seem to many an excess of particularism, he opposed
local improvements financed by funds of the general government.
Yet from a strict point of view Hayne was but facing and accepting
the price of liberty. Freedom is something that gathers around the
hearth, inheres in local associations, and endears to a man his
place of habitation."
The
issue could also be conceived another way: was the American Union
simply a means to an end or an end in itself? For Webster "a
nation was something that filled the political horizon; it was a
creation which tended to carry its own vindication, and for which
the sacrifice of local rights was appropriate." But for Hayne,
a nation "was a means toward a higher end, not a self-glorifying
structure which improved as it gained size and authority for coercion."
This was the fundamental issue at stake in nineteenth-century American
political thought.
Although
the testimony of history was clearly on the side of Hayne rather
than Webster, whose rhetorical flights of fancy tended more to the
mystical than the strictly historical, it was Webster’s view that
would be established on the battlefield during the American Civil
War. Weaver observed with sorrow that "somewhere along the
path of events the French revolutionary theory of the people as
a unitary whole, governing in the interest of the whole without
restrictions on its power, had seeped into the political thinking
of some Americans…. The ‘spurious democracy’ of the French Revolution,
as Lord Acton was to term it, which placed power and rule above
local rights and autochthonous institutions, continued its sway
during the nineteenth century and profoundly altered the character
of the American Union."
Another
aspect of the Southern character that Weaver identified is that
it is not utopian. When during the mid-nineteenth century Northerners
were setting up self-described "utopian communities" –
in which there would be no private property, or no marriage, or
whatever – the Southerner shook his head in amusement. The Southerner,
said Weaver, "accepts the irremediability of a certain amount
of evil and tries to fence it around instead of trying to stamp
it out and thereby spreading it. His is a classical acknowledgment
of tragedy and of the limits of power." Weaver pointed out
that such a mentality was utterly incompatible with another character
type with which we are all too familiar. This other character type
is "unhappy unless he feels that he is making the world over.
He may talk much of tolerance, but for him tolerance is an exponent
of power. His tolerance tolerates only the dogmatic idea of tolerance,
as anyone can discover for himself by getting to know the modern
humanitarian liberal." Although he naturally acknowledged the
existence of exceptions, it was these two impulses, Weaver suggested,
that comprised the two sections of the Union. (Which of them would
ultimately triumph is evident from a glance at current American
foreign policy.)
Throughout
American history, there have been those who have sought to strengthen
the central government and weaken the independence of the states
in order to bring about this or that allegedly desirable social
outcome. This tendency has manifested itself in many forms. In 1954,
the Southern states were told that they had to begin racial desegregation
of their schools. By 1957, federal troops were being used against
a high school in Little Rock, Arkansas, that had defied the federal
government. By the 1960s, the Southern states were being told that
desegregation was no longer enough: they now needed to engage in
active integration of the races. Simply giving parents a choice
of schools was not enough, the ideologues claimed, since they might
choose to continue sending their children to single-race schools
(as indeed happened in many cases). Even forced busing of students
hours each way was said to be a perfectly constitutional way of
accomplishing this task of social engineering. Whether any of this
actually improved anyone’s educational performance – it didn’t –
was scarcely even raised.
By
the early 1970s, even Northern states that had never engaged in
overt discrimination against blacks were said to be in breach of
the mandate to integrate if their school systems were de facto
segregated. Now the forced busing would be extended to the North,
where there had been no legal discrimination in the past, and where
a majority of parents – black and white – opposed this intrusion
into their local affairs.
Weaver
had warned that the federal government, claiming to act on behalf
of freedom, would not so restrict itself for long. "The instrumentality
of union, with its united strength and its subordination of the
parts, is an irresistible temptation to the power-hungry of every
generation," he wrote. "The strength of union may first
be exercised in the name of freedom, but once it has been made monopolistic
and unassailable, it will, if history teaches anything, be used
for other purposes" (emphasis added). He observed in another
context that "[w]hen doctrinaire liberalism is applied to societies,"
the result is "an enforced Utopia sustained by the police state."
The
only use a liberal has for power, said Weaver, is to destroy. Anyone
who thinks liberalism will restrict its use of federal power to
the purely benign is deceiving himself. "If these fanatical
destroyers are allowed to have their way," he warned, "the
next thing to be challenged will be the basis on which the more
general ‘American way of life’ is forming. The same charges of inequity
leveled against the Southern regime will be leveled against capitalism,
private property, the family, and even individuality."
With
the Civil War over and the American nation consolidated (in 1869,
the Supreme Court blandly described secession as "unconstitutional,"
without deigning to justify that statement with evidence), the imperially
minded could turn their attention at last to the international arena.
Weaver remarked, "One cannot feign surprise, therefore, that
thirty years after the great struggle to consolidate and unionize
American power, the nation embarked on its career of imperialism.
The new nationalism enabled Theodore Roosevelt, than whom there
was no more staunch advocate of union, to strut and bluster and
intimidate our weaker neighbors. Ultimately it launched American
upon its career of world imperialism, whose results are now being
seen in indefinite military conscription, mountainous debt, restriction
of dissent, and other abridgments of classical liberty."
The
American South has often been criticized for being slow to adopt
modern ideas, and for being insufficiently "progressive."
But the South with which Richard Weaver attempts to acquaint us,
while doubtless imperfect, possesses some of the characteristics
of the tragic hero. Southerners attempted to resist the spirit of
the age – this was, after all, the age of the unifications of Germany
and Italy – as well as overwhelming military force. By resisting
the idea of a centralized, consolidated nation, the South kept alive
a pre-modern conception of political authority that acknowledged
the independence and integrity of the constituent parts that comprised
political society, and which rejected the idea that a single, irresistible
sovereign voice had the right to ride roughshod over traditional
local rights. (The South was Althusius to the North’s Rousseau.)
Southerners are thus an inspiration to people anywhere who wish
to keep regional cultures alive in the face of the standardization
and uniformity enforced by modern, unitary states.
Southerners
could not have known of the historically unprecedented destruction
that such large-scale centralized states would wreak in the twentieth
century. But having attempted to resist the transformation of the
United States from a decentralized republic of many jurisdictions
to a centralized state little different from that forged during
the French Revolution, they made a stand against what has proven
to be one of the most destructive institutions in history. Indeed,
Professor Donald Livingston of Emory University has described the
modern unitary state precisely as
one
of the most destructive forces in history. Its wars and totalitarian
revolutions have been without precedent in their barbarism and
ferocity. But in addition to this, it has persistently subverted
and continues to subvert those independent social authorities
and moral communities on which eighteenth-century monarchs had
not dared to lay their hands. Its subversion of these authorities,
along with its success in providing material welfare, has produced
an ever increasing number of rootless individuals whose characters
are hedonistic, self-absorbed, and without spirit. We daily accept
expropriations, both material and spiritual, from the central
government which our ancestors in 1776 and 1861 would have considered
non-negotiable.
In
a similar vein, Weaver cited the lament of Alexander Stephens, Vice
President of the Confederate States of America:
If
centralism is ultimately to prevail; if our entire system of free
Institutions as established by our common ancestors is to be subverted,
and an Empire is to be established in their stead; if that is
to be the last scene of the great tragic drama now being enacted:
then, be assured, that we of the South will be acquitted, not
only in our own consciences, but in the judgment of mankind, of
all responsibility for so terrible a catastrophe, and from all
guilt of so great a crime against humanity.
The
South, as a result both of the devastation she endured during the
Civil War and the orthodox Christianity in which she has believed,
has appreciated the element of tragedy in human existence, and has
therefore viewed with skepticism those whose utopian schemes neglect
both common sense as well as the baneful influence of original sin.
An appreciation of this important insight has never been more urgently
needed than now, when the American foreign policy establishment
believes it reasonable to remake the political culture of an entire
region of the world, as if societies were mere tinkertoys, easily
taken apart and reassembled.
Around
the world, secession and devolution movements abound; even the European
Union can at times be heard to acknowledge the desire for devolution.
The Confederate Battle Flag, ignorantly condemned by American Jacobins
as a symbol of slavery that should be forcibly uprooted wherever
it is found, has been seen to fly wherever in the world a people
seeks to resist their subordination to unchecked central authority.
These are some of the valuable things that Richard Weaver found
in Southern civilization, and why we can say, with Confederate Vice
President Alexander Stephens, that "the cause of the South
is the cause of us all."
September
30, 2003
Professor
Thomas E. Woods, Jr. [send
him mail] holds
an AB from Harvard and a PhD from Columbia. He teaches history,
is associate editor of The Latin Mass Magazine, and is co-author
of The Great Façade:
Vatican II and the Regime of Novelty in the Roman Catholic Church
(2002). His next book, on Catholic thought during the Progressive
Era, will be published next year by Columbia University Press.
An
Italian
translation of this article appeared in the journal Ideazione.
Copyright
© 2003 LewRockwell.com
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