It’s a holiday name with odd and unexpected associations, isn’t it? The very word seems to pull you in two opposite directions at the same time. On the one hand “independence” – which in this case refers to our nation’s declaration in 1776 of its separation from England – is a statement that one is standing proudly alone, equal to any, subservient to none.
But the very fact of declaring independence suggests a kind of existential dependence, one that can never be erased. We remain the progeny of England, a self-professed derivative culture, and we can never escape this identity.
This dependency shows up on superficial levels. We still speak English, after all. Also, unlike most of the world, and in defiance of all reason, we still measure everything in “miles” and “pounds” rather than kilometers and kilograms. But the real dependencies are deeper and more profound.
For example, more than most modern democracies, we still expect our our president to take on much of the role of a king. Oh, of course we don’t say it – that would be bad form. But it is a tendency that we have distinctly inherited from old mother England.
Flag, Jasper Johns, 1954-55
Until recently, this has been largely a ceremonial distinction. Americans adored Jack Kennedy, who played the part of young king perfectly, with his princely looks and perfect grooming, his regally poised and beautiful wife, his grand balls where the likes of Pablo Casals and Leonard Bernstein would perform for the royal court (ie: the White House) as powerful lords and lovely ladies attended their king and queen, all dressed in full formal splendor.
Since 1963 there has always been a palpable sense of disappointment in the country that this heady feeling of Camelot has never again been duplicated, a sense of innocence lost, from which the country has still not recovered.
But recently the notion of king has taken on a new and more ominous meaning. The infamous signing statements of the G. W. Bush administration – the self-declared license to creatively reinterpret congressional laws in any way the executive sees fit – have been a hallmark of the last seven years. Somehow this complete transformation of our system of government, essentially an assertion of monarchist powers, went largely unnoticed until 2006.
That was the moment when, in one such signing statement, our president reserved for himself the right – in a remarkable defiance of law – to secretly wiretap the citizenry without judicial oversight.
This is why it is important for a nation to not go too far in romanticizing national pride, to not become lost within its own fantasies of itself and its entertainingly charismatic leaders.
It’s all fun and games until somebody loses a democracy.
The English have given up on pounds as a system of measurement, but still can’t seem to let go of miles.
And funnily, the British monarchy has lost virtually all of its power and people used to complain about Tony Blair becoming “too presidential”.
“Swings and roundabouts,” as they say here, “swings and roundabouts.”
Yes, it’s true–America’s taken on a sort of Monarchy. I normally wouldn’t want to bring up religion, but since you’re talking about politics it seems alright–do you think that perhaps, religious views have anything to do with it? England–when it was ruled by a monarchy–claimed that there was a connection between God and the Queen. And America makes a connection between God and America.
Also, the same thing’s happened in Cuba, and they’ve even taken it farther–now that Fidel’s too old, his little brother’s taken over in his place.