Forgetting May be the Best Way to Remember
Last week I visited several Civil War Sites in Kentucky, Tennessee and Virginia—my virtually native state, tracking some of the movements of the 5th United States Colored Cavalry (5th USCC). Among the sites I visited were Kentucky's Camp Nelson, now an impressive county park outside of Lexington and well worth visiting, and Saltville, Va, where the 5th twice saw battle and where there's not much today to remind a visitor of the Civil War. While most of the sites were interesting to us, I was discouraged because at several slavery was excluded as a cause of the war and I could hear echoes of The Lost Cause reverberating across the hills and mountains around us right into the words of our guides. States rights was the cause it was proclaimed, and in one case I learned it was a long-term Northern conspiracy to keep the South from developing industry (which the South desperately wanted to do)–perhaps I hadn't been paying attention, but that was a new one for me. It all reminded me mildly of the bestseller from last century Confederates in the Attic: Dispatches from the Unfinished Civil War.
I then woke up this morning to a tweet from Kevin Levine that directed me to a Bloomberg article, "Virginia as Biggest Slaveholder Still Sees Civil War Divisively."
The visits already had me thinking about what can be done to overcome the dichotomy in our thinking about the Civil War. It's been 150 years, and still the disparity continues and apparently flourishes. I have come to the conclusion that seeing the causes of the "Civil War divisively" will never end. Scholars, reenactors, hobbyist, history buffs, Northerners, Southerners, Mississippians, Virginians, Pennsylvanians: everyone approaches it from a different perspective.
It reminds me of an everyday disagreement in marriage. If a couple caught up in an argument continues to contest who was right and who was wrong or argues what and who caused the fight, they never move on, and like a hurricane they swirl and swirl about until anything good and valuable in their relationship is destroyed. On the other hand, when they recognize and act on the fact that their relationship is far more important than the argument and consciously chose to forget or ignore what caused the argument in the first place, they are ready to grow closer together.
So, what would happen if we took that approach to the Civil War–agree that we ended up in a greater place than we began, and leave causes alone. Even as I write this, of course, something tugs at me that says don't do it—you're perspective is right. But that is the challenge: Everyone thinks their perspective on causes is the right one. Letting go of who's right and who's wrong, whose argument is historical and whose rewrites history, even when we have strong feelings, is the challenge and addresses the fundamental problem. A week ago, I wouldn't have written this because it's a hard principle and because no one (meaning me and my perspective) wins. And no one winning is its greatest virtue—although I don't suppose it sells books like controversy.
It's no longer who's right and who's wrong. Instead, we celebrate what we believe in common: it was a tragedy; it changed the nation in crucial ways, yet with some unfortunate byproducts; it ended slavery to the benefit of all; it allowed the building of one unified nation capable of saving the world in the 20th century.
Trying to forget all the reasons thrown up as causes for the war may be the best way to remember the war and help us continue as a bulwark of freedom for this century. And don't worry, if you're concerned this approach won't leave anything to discuss, we still are looking for that perfect balance between states and Federal rights. And that ought to keep us busy for a least another 150 years.


