MODERN ECHOES OF THE CIVIL WAR

I am staunchly pro-states-rights. It is ludicrous for a nation to tell a state, “You have a right to join, but if you do, you’re stuck; you don’t have the right to quit. And if this nation turns out to be not what you were led to expect, well then that’s just tough for you.” That would be like a profession telling an individual that he can’t ever resign, and that he must die in harness; or like a club telling a person that he can’t have a trial membership and then quit if he wishes. If a nation turns out to be, in the state’s view, not all that it was cracked-up to be, I say that that state has every right to say, “So long, Charlie.”

And please don’t give me that hackneyed old reverse-engineered argument that a divided America would have lost us the world wars. First of all, one issue has nothing to do with the other; an earlier decision cannot be based upon what may or may not happen much later. Second of all, I have little doubt that the United States of America and the Confederate States of America would have been allies in both world wars. The Confederacy would not have joined the Axis powers any more than the Union did, so let’s not concern ourselves with irrelevancies. Interestingly, when my husband first read this paragraph, he claimed that history professors would disagree with my faith in the common sense of the South based upon their own historical research. Very well: my reply is that, unless said historians possess the “Sliders’” ability to “slide” from one universe to another and thus visit at least some of the universes in which the South did reign victorious, OR unless they possess both time-travel and telepathy and therefore are in a position to know precisely what was in the hearts of all of the Southerners that actually lived in that era, then even they must acknowledge that there’s too much chaos theory (think “The Butterfly Effect,” “A Sound Of Thunder,” and “Sliding Doors”) involved for them to make much more than an educated guess, just as I am doing, especially since we have not yet invented Isaac Asimov’s fascinating “psychohistory” (read his “Foundation” series). And dare I reference “Star Trek” in this context? Planets do withdraw from the Federation whenever they see fit, though granted, that is a far more enlightened era than ours. Perhaps far more enlightened than we’ll ever actually be in reality. Maybe humanity will never even come close to being as wise and mature as “Star Trek” depicts; in my gloomier moments, I suspect so. Or at least, fear so. But at the very least, it is a future worth emulation.

As my husband has pointed out, the Civil War was a war of economics, not race, though apparently black America would have us think otherwise. A shirt-slogan that I’ve seen often and admired depicts the Confederate Flag, and then is captioned, “If this flag offends you, then you need a history lesson.”

Do you know what I think keeps prejudice going among whites more than any other single factor? Having blacks tell us over and over ad nauseum that we are prejudiced. Do you remember that commercial some years ago that had an adorable little boy playing with his breakfast rather than eating it, and we heard his off-camera mother saying, “Come on, Charlie, eat; you’re such a slow-poke!” The point of the ad was that people tend to live down to others’ lowest expectations of them, and that if you label someone something long enough, he will begin to fulfill that prophecy. I don’t know about you, but having had it beaten into my head my entire life that, because I’m white, I’m automatically expected and assumed to be prejudiced, I’m now more than ready to retort, “Fine! I’m f…ing prejudiced! Whatever!!!”

I refuse to feel the least bit guilty about something that took place before I was even born. And I will not assume one iota of responsibility for making it better. The gawdawful sixties and seventies engendered a reverse-discrimination situation regarding which I, for one, have had it up to here. Anyone who wishes to label me may do so to his heart’s content. I will make no attempt to dissuade him. But in labeling me, he needs to ask himself just how much of my so-called prejudice is the direct result of a lifetime of being told that I am.