From The Lowcountry

By Jack Melton · Originally published February 2018 · p. 2

Mark Twain once wrote of the Bible that it “has noble poetry in it; and some clever fables; and some blood-drenched history; and a wealth of obscenity; and upwards of a thousand lies.” Twain was being his irreverent self, of course, but the fact remains that no one has ever thought of changing the words of the Bible, the holiest book in Christendom. Instead, we’re changing history in this country every time the authorities remove an historical monument or a historical relic that offends some of our citizens. I think we can all agree that removing, erasing or changing the symbols of history has consequences beyond our ability to foresee. Our front-cover article has to do with the recent removal of the statue of Confederate General Nathan Bedford Forrest. We still don’t know how this story is going to end, because the national conversation over the meaning of Civil War symbols is still ongoing and far from finished. I wish we could have an informed and civil discussion about Confederate monuments in the South, but I’m not optimistic. Sociologists have demonstrated repeatedly that people tend to accept—indeed, search for— “facts” that conform to their existing beliefs. We can pretend that the United States was not a slaveholding country, but we shouldn’t. Removing Forrest’s statue won’t erase the fact that in the nineteenth century the U.S. was the largest slaveholding country in the world. Removing Robert E. Lee’s or Jefferson Davis’ monuments will not change the fact that ours was the only major industrial country ever to fight a civil war over whether to abolish slavery. Removing Stonewall Jackson’s equestrian statue, for that matter, will not cloak the fact that in the course of U.S. history, Americans have been slaveholders longer—from 1619 to 1865— than we have been “the land of the free.” Yes, I know that some of our citizens would enjoy the convenience of forgetting about some aspects of American history. But to remove vestiges of parts of the past that don’t suit us is to rewrite history. What’s next after that? In Mark Twain’s imagination, it would be to start rewriting the Bible. Now we hear that Civil War reenactments are being targeted for violence, causing organizers to consider cancelling them. We are in danger of having more Civil War events cancelled because of terrorism threats if we don’t work together to find a solution, or at least some common ground for discussion. I invite letters addressed to me as the editor in response to this commentary. My hope is that, through continued (and measured) cultural conversation, we can look for solutions to the problems we face as members of the Civil War community.