This is hardly an accurate representation. The changes brought about as a result of the progressives are no return to abandoned of lost first principles. Whether or not liberalism made it through the second framing, branding the social policy of the progressive era, New Deal, and Great Society as liberal is, as argued earlier, especially a problem. As regards resuscitating lost civic virtue, it has been contended here that it has not been lost. Indeed, the degree to which it has been inhibited is in direct relationship to the institution of such policies. If the system of checks and balances has 'frustrated the popular will,' for every progressive reform to counter that -- and not only can women's suffrage and direct elections of Senators just as readily be traced to a gradual expansion of the franchise throughout U. S. history, not especially the Progressives -- the emphasis on 'depoliticalization' and 'professionalism' from the Fed across the bureaucratic spectrum, together with the institutionalization of Jim Crow and related disenfranchisement of the 'Progressive Era' has not been intended ever toward popular expression. It can be argued that the very qualities of the capitalist republic so repulsive to Progressives, to the extent that they have been impaired by it, have actually undermined the economic development that the constitutional order sought to promote for the general good. The graduated income tax has been one of the most intrusive mechanisms in our history and has been used to fuel governmental growth at the expense of cultivation of the general will, and the indictment of corporate power has only forced things in that direction. In fact, in his VISIBLE HAND, Chandler argues quite persuasively that one of the benchmarks of corporate culture has been the empowerment of middle management (the tactics behind Demmings' strategies are neither divergent from that analysis nor in great variance from the American System in very many respects). Yet, more dubious even than the effort in Diggins to portray progressivism in this manner is his design to formulate it on such as Melville and Lincoln. Perhaps for Henry Adams this is workable, but it is no more so for these two than for Cooper. He would like to reach through them to establish progressivism and contemporary liberalism as representative, even the embodiment of, his "Return to the Sacred in Political Thought." (38) Even though the language of his writings is of a type to make it conducive to the sort of effort this examination has been about, beyond the form it has very little to contribute. It is one thing to suggest that both Melville and Lincoln "absorbed the power of America's ancestral religion," (39) but it is quite another to purport that as foundational to Progressivism. As exemplary of the multitude of problems involved by such an effort is their, and Progressivism's, relation to Calvinism. It is as difficult to connect the gloom of that orientation to the spirit of America as it is to emerge from the gloom which shadows much in Melville without a sense of having survived if not overcome it. The contradictions in this regard are replete in Progressivism, as well. Whether it involves a faith in the capacity of man to run his own affairs is not clear, either in the philosophical underpinnings or the policy initiatives. As has been suggested, the 'democratic' manifestations of Progressivism seem to indicate one thing while the policy implementation, something altogether different. It is possible from Diggins to see how governmental 'empowerment' through entitlement can be constructed, but this is not only a contradiction in the familiarity with Rousseau he lends to Melville, it is an abject reversal, even a negation, of the philosophy of the Declaration which he appears to desire reaching to connect with Progressive 'return of the sacred.' Rights in the Declaration come to man from the Creator, not from government. The objection would probably be entered that the argument runs to government guarantee of rights through affirmative acts of empowerment, but in actuality that does not sit well with Rousseau and the relationship between governance and the General Will. Diggins does suggest that virtue can be taught, and he apparently does think that government can engender it. (40) In that argument, he contrasts Melville and Machiavelli. To the extent, however, that such may be the case, government's role in the process must be carefully scrutinized. The expansion of institutional control is certainly not going to achieve it, and indeed, must undermine it, and Melville says as much in the selection Diggins references from WHITE JACKET: " ... when Virtue is crowned in the cabin of a commodore, when Virtue rules by compulsion, and domineers over Vice as a slave, then Virtue, though her mandates be outwardly observed, bears little interior sway. To be effacious, Virtue must come down from aloft, even as our blessed Redeemer came down to redeem our whole man-of-war world; ..." (41) and that is the antithesis of the authority sought by Diggins. It is also possible to concur with Diggins on his assertion that: "In Lincoln American political thought ascended, and, ascending, resolved spiritual ecstasy," (42) That, after all, was central to the earlier notion of Lincoln's apotheosis. But the continuation of Whig 'promotionalism' by Lincoln, even carried to the extent which exigencies forced, is by no means of the same species of the control and planned character of Progressive liberal democracy. Such an interpretation can only be held valid at the most superficial and unsophisticated level. And the religious character of Lincoln, though in part a "fusing politics and piety by returning to the spirit of '76," (43) was more an elaboration of the Constitution as the social contract, and is not comparable to the purging of corruption, 'periodic renewal,' or return to pristine first principles which progressivism purports. Diggins faults Progressive historians with the dilemna of liberal America, out of their assumption that Lockeanism "and Calvinism triumphed after the Civil War in capitalism and Social Darwinism." (44) Although he proceeds to an indictment of the welfare state as it robs recipients of dignity and self- reliance, he cannot see in this the failure of that vision of America. Rather amazingly, he would place our condition at the feet of capitalism and its mentors, in whose hands the: "... liberal ideological of work and production ... [has been] ... transformed into a conservative ideology of power and possession."(45) The patent absurdity of this is then further compounded as he sinks into a variant form of liberal absolutism ala Hartz to trumpet that "conservatism's" dispelling of America: " ... with the rise of the 'moral majority,' the omnipresent fundamentalist tendencies in American religion has again arisen, fueling passionate resentment toward change and modernity. In some cases these tendencies verge on a bigotry and racism ..." (46) But while the positive and negative aspects of such fundamentalism can be debated, they have, in fact, been a key factor in not only the drive for progress but against the forces of its undoing. The opposition they or other pose to what he terms 'change and modernity' may be thusly 'conservative,' but the desire to stop and even roll-back the change which progressive liberalism has burdened us with is hardly evil. And it is the very forces he promotes which have begun to 'verge on bigotry and racism.' The 'welfare' system has been able to destroy not just the black family in a way even slavery could never do, but the family structure in America well beyond the black community, and 'affirmative action' which arguably may have helped some has done far more harm. Overall, it has been a dismal failure. Nor is it the drive for prayer in school that has risen to subvert the First Amendment, but instead progressive liberalism which has skewed the meaning of establishment to an active endorsement of secular humanism and an active sabotage of established religion and civil religion. Whatever the merits of such initiatives as school prayer, and the may be outweighed by negatives, it in no manner represents 'establishment' and the separation doctrine should not be construed into disestablishment as active policy. For Diggins, there was a 'Christian social justice' that played an important role in the effort "to challenge the new industrial ideology" of the nineteenth century, one that leads him to endorsement of Rauschenbausch's argument that capitalism weakens religion and encourages 'sins of the flesh.' (47) The attempt to 'spin' the doctrines of Christianity which spawned in good measure capitalism ethics into such as indictment of capitalism is unconscionable as it is erroneous. His diatribe runs to the tired questioning of wealth held as justifiable, but it is of a more insidious character than 'ill-gotten gainsmanship' for it tracks along the path of undermining the very capital accumulation which is the fuel of economic development and higher living standards. His harshest comments on Gilden (48) are more of an attack on capitalism itself than anything else and turn into a condemnation which infers that technology represents "man's desire to flee the pains of labor and seek the pleasures of life without hard work." (49) The rhetoric in which he couches this attack on the theory of labor power in favor of the labor theory of value actually sounds more Marxist than progressive, but then there may not be all that much difference. Diggins wants, it seems, to accept Dewey's questioning of Kant's categorical imperative but has trouble accepting his case that "there is no essential conflict between virtue and interest." (50) There can be, of course, and hence the fear of factions, but they are not mutually exclusive categories, as he would read the Framers to intimate. And yet, the perhaps most incredible commentary Diggins offers relates to foreign policy he sees grown out of self-righteousness which frees America 'from the burden of sin' like slavery -- a useful enough, though misspecified point -- but also Hiroshima and Vietnam! (51) He adamantly argues that "Moral judgment should never endanger the pursuit of peace" (52) never apparently realizing that only by way of labor power advancement attained by capitalism can peace be promoted. This he brands 'a superhuman goal' that is 'a kind of spiritual sickness.'(53) This act of delimiting 'moral judgment' to suit his categories of acceptable standards is actually the kind of subjective treatment which Diggins has utilized throughout his tract to cordon off the territory he desires to stake a claim to, but his standard is one determined by his conceptualization of liberalism. His apparent affinity for Jefferson as representative of the lost soul of liberalism in need of resuscitation is even more disturbing. Such a liberal democracy, for example, would resound with Jefferson's position on slavery as acceptable if only out of a tyranny of the majority. (54) The very safeguards against that in the constitutional order (55) which Diggins decries for rendering us incapable of virtue (56) as are what decapitated liberal democracy, but the Enlightenment philosophy which he would reach back to as grounds for his progressive liberal agenda by his own admission out of Jefferson renders us impotent before nature as "the human mind was therefore powerless to dictate to the universe how things 'ought' to be." (57) But he has already 'admitted' that the 'virtue' of the Revolution against authority was inadequate for re-establishing authority.(58) Diggins' lost soul is hence trapped in purgatory. The relationship between 'interest' and 'virtue,' seemingly rejected out of hand by Diggins but so touted by Adam Smith, but moreover, the Framers, with checks against is abuse, and for which in Henry Carey the Constitution becomes the essence of 'Association' resolves that dilemna. Paradise can be regained, although not for Diggins. the approximation in Bellah of a 'good society' to mend the 'Broken Covenant' with Diggins' lost soul and Progressive liberal resurrection defines much of the problem with analysis, too. Diggins, like Hartz and Bellah, pose an anti-Geist to the Geist of American civil religion. But alas, the negation of virtue in the anti-Geist is itself negated by the spirit of the faith -- the negation of the negation. There are differences, but they may be allusory. Diggins wants to go home where for Hartz we cannot go back (like Dion's lonely teenager). What has been done here is to attempt to illuminate that large table in the center of Almond's Cafe. Ironically, even incredibly, there is within the construct of our civic faith some contradictory signaling. Without dismissing out of hand any positive role for Jefferson in the 'theology' or pantheon, there is much of his thinking and public record some considerable antithetical character. To a lesser extent, there is as well, a cult around such personages as Andrew Jackson and Franklin Delano Roosevelt. While their positions in the pantheon may represent, in part, a certain dedication to the process which elevated them to the 'pinnacle' they hold, much of what they represent is in basic antinomy to the spirit of the faith as it has been delineated here. It may be difficult to sort out the 'good' and 'bad' of such elements of the 'religion,' and perhaps that would itself be antithetical to the belief structure, but they do serve as a source of some of the divisive characteristics which ferment within the invention. Removing the Jefferson Memorial or the figures of Jefferson and TR from Mount Rushmore is hardly to be anticipated or suggested, but there is a real sense in which such exhibition does work to undermine the civic faith, the 'contemporary' version of liberalism being in basic opposition to much of that philosophy. Current discussion of moving the statues of some women from the Capitol basement to display to make manifest the contributions of women to our history suggests the problem, too, in that those thus conferred with 'saintly' stature could be of that 'alternative' faith -- and the liberal social democratic theology does possess a rather 'counter' religiousity all its own, with its own theology and supportive structures. XX THE CONSTRUCT AS ANALYTIC INSTRUMENT The recently popularized film version of Mozart's life, AMADEUS, has it that the Austrian Emperor had outlawed the play The Marriage of Figaro because it stirred up class animosities. Nevertheless, the irrepressible Wolfgang managed to complete and win approval for performance of his operatic version of Figaro. Considerable commentary by Hartz and Diggins as to the degree of transference of Old World class divisions to the New World should be informed by what this case of Mozart's Figaro illustrates. Their consensus would appear to be that, unlike in the view of John Adams, the transference was very slight. And yet, the class antagonisms reflected in Figaro are of a nature which reflects the time, but are not the sort of class conflict we might infer from such usage today, after the industrial revolution. It was the aristocracy which was fretting over the content of the libretto. In this respect, while the entire American movement toward independence could be construed to be of such a character, the fact made so much of by Hartz and Diggins of an absence of feudalism here might render the issue moot. By no stretch of the imagination should the natural aristocracy of Hamilton have been looked upon in such a manner, although it certainly came to be with the de facto allegiance of Genet and Jefferson, and even moreso by the time of Jackson. Actually, there may be much in Mozart which should be looked to in the challenge of piecing together the puzzle of America's genesis. Many of his operas tap the same historical and classical sources which pervade that beginning. In addition to Figaro, the Magic Flute is filled with Masonic symbolism, including three doors which may be somewhat akin to the three branches of government, besides apparently of 'secret' meaning in lodge circles. It was through Masonic related forces that Franklin established some liaison with Mozart. Other operatic scores reflect the Roman and Greek symbolism which played not a small role in the Founding and Framing. If nothing else, such patterns may lend themselves to the consideration of the genuine religiousity of what developed into our civil religion construct. It is this myth of origin which serves as the springboard for Robert Bellah's reappraisal of the civil religion concept in his collection of lectures on the subject published under the title BROKEN COVENANT. Reference to what that means in relation to Diggins and Hartz has been made. There is a common substantive focus in the work of the three. At the same time, there are some important differences, too. Bellah appears to place a good deal more emphasis on the importance of republican virtue (1) than do either Hartz or Diggins, Bellah portraying a continuing role for such 'willed initiative' throughout our history whereas the other two treat it virtually as a dead letter, though one with some potentially valuable service given its reinvigoration. Additionally, where Diggins' and Hartz' liberalism would treat pursuit of individual self-interest as somewhat of an enigma, Bellah mentions such as Montesquieu's concern that the survival of a republic required a measure of public spirited mind that could "make possible that renunciation of self," (2) but he quickly turns this about and firmly plants at least a modicum of the origin in: "The idea that society could be based on a mere coagulation of individual interests, that the pursuit of private vice could result in public virtue ..,"(3) although somehow Adam Smith is largely missing from Bellah's entire scheme. His utilization of the term vice may betray something of a hidden agenda that appears in Bellah much as it does in the other two analysts. Of importance, as well, is the source out of which Bellah locates this idea which he attributes to Locke as a 'true disciple' of Hobbes. (4) The establishment of the compact to contain the belllum omnium is a simple matter of interest: " ... social concord is still based not on divine justice, not even on a shadow of caritas, but on self-interest, on cupidas alone." (5) But he is not very clear whether this analysis looks to the individual or the aggregate self-interest, even in his dedication of the cupidas concept to Augustine. That connection brings Bellah to a further divergence from the analysis of Hartz and Diggins: "But essential to Augustine's political thought is the idea that even fallen men retain some 'image' or 'impression' of divine faith and justice, without which there could be no political order." (6) This, indeed, was one of the problems this analysis offered by way of critique of the others' liberalism, which seems struck by human frailty beyond reconstruction. It also gives rise to a critical point which would appear to be absent in the discussion of the Framers by any of this trio of analysts. Man's nature as 'fallen' or 'saved' is important. Although here Bellah infers a potentiality (7), it is not exactly the free will choice potential spoken of earlier here, and yet neither is it the almost totally constrained vision of man in Hartz and Diggins as having 'fallen and can't get up.' This also directs contemplation toward a further important point. Perhaps out of this rather frail vision of man's nature, especially in the former two, but even in Bellah, it just doesn't appear to occur to them that the delimitation character of the Constitution was not primarily, if at all, directed at individuals, but rather its entire objective and function was to limit government. All the discussion of human nature and even the consideration of the checking of interests by institutional constraints had that one myopic quest. This simply cannot be over-emphasized. In spite of the fact that Bellah early in the tract lent an ear to the possibility of some correspondence between interest and virtue, he rather quickly and abruptly qualifies that view, suggesting that a tension soon appeared between such views and those held by others of a more self-denying, even self-effacing form of virtue (8). This later he attributes to the likes of Sam Adams and Washington in his Farewell Address (9), as well as John Adams. The interest as virtue viewpoint is one which Gordon Wood has articulated: "But by the 1790's, as Gordon S. Wood has shown, quite other views were beginning to prevail. Instead of lamenting the fact that Americans seemed to be more intent on individual happiness than upon public good, some began to argue that just such a principle was the basis of the new American system. The new Constitution, it was felt, harnessed individual acquisitiveness to public order." (10) According to James Wilson, the controls built into the new system of government actually "made it advantageous for bad men to act for the public good." (11) Wood contends that: "America would remain free not because of any quality in its citizens of spartan self-sacrifice to some nebulous public good, but in the last analysis because of the concern each individual would have in his own self-interest and individual freedom." (12) Due to the frankly dim view and natural fear held of the ordinary citizen by the Framers on this conviction, Bellah argues that the Constitution was a kind of "'external covenant' uniting convinced republicans with the lukewarm." (13) He goes as far as to suggest that the idea that America was a chosen people, a new Israel in the Promised Land, a shining city on a hill, had been altered, so that with Jefferson, the Constitution became "a shell for the pursuit of self interest rather than a space for the exercise of free initiative in the public interest." (14) There are obvious glaring faults in the city on a hill, not the least of which was the position accorded Indians and Africans in the new order of the ages. That Bellah fails to see the new system as a dynamic process which would contain the seeds of the resolution or potential resolution of such internal inconsistencies is also quite apparent. After all, what kind of 'faith' would permit slavery? The American civil religion didn't. It is did not see a way to eliminate it, there was a real conviction that the development of labor power and the value of labor would make slavery nonviable. Hamilton, Franklin, and Lincoln were all quite clear on this, but none argued it as forcefully as Carey. Continue 1