The Fourth of July: A promise still unfolding

Saturday will bring the “glorious Fourth”—not the Glorious Fourth of June that celebrates the largest naval action of the French Revolution—but our own glorious Fourth, the day we celebrate the birth of our nation.

It can be considered to be the most important day in our cultural lexicon, the day we first articulated the values we aspire to as a nation. But just as this nation has always been an imperfect union that struggles to realize its ideals, so, too, has the holiday proved to be problematical.

Indeed, it is an anomaly, not even celebrated on the right day. On July 3, 1776, John Adams, who did as much as any man in the Continental Congress to spur the Colonies toward independence, wrote to his wife that July 2nd would be “the most memorable Epocha in the History of America” celebrated by future generations as a “great anniversary Festival”  with “Pomp and Parade [and] solemn acts of devotion to God, shews, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires and illuminations …”

He was referring, of course, to the previous day’s Congressional vote formally declaring the former colonies to be the free and independent United States of America. But because public broadsides printed following the July 2 vote were dated July 4th, the public accepted that latter date as the official holiday. 

This peeved Adams—he was a notably irascible man—and he reportedly turned down all invitations to July 4th events in protest. July 4 was a “housekeeping day,” bringing only acceptance of the formal text of the Declaration and did not even entail the famous—largely illusory—act of the delegates signing it. 

Ironically, exactly 50 years later, Adams clung tenaciously to life until the evening of the Fourth, about six hours after the death of his friend, Thomas Jefferson. 

So, the Fourth isn’t the right date, but that is not the only irony associated with our much-venerated national holiday. As the newly minted country groped its way toward some kind of national identity, partisan battle lines led to separate celebrations by emerging political parties. 

The Federalists, who supported a central bank and robust trade relations with Great Britain, celebrated with military displays and orators. The Republicans, on the other hand, favored states’ rights and support for France, America’s key Revolutionary War ally. Their separate parades emphasized the working class. They waved the flags of both nations, wore Liberty caps, and considered themselves less elitist. 

The tensions between the two sides reached an ugly climax in 1795, following Senate approval of the controversial Jay Treaty with Great Britain. That treaty favored trade with England and angered our former ally, which had bankrupted itself aiding America in its war. Violence threatened when a crowd of angry working-class Philadelphians marched through the streets and were opposed by the Federalists. A near-riot was diffused when the Republicans backed down.

The Federalist Party’s eventual decline brought an end to the dueling Fourth of July commemorations.

Today brings what, to my mind, is the ultimate irony. With the exception of this year’s 250th anniversary celebrations, the Fourth of July has become a muted event in most communities. Large cities such as Hartford and Bridgeport may still hold parades and public fetes, but many smaller towns pay little attention to it at all. Only about a third of Connecticut’s 169 towns acknowledge the holiday with formal events.

There may be several reasons for this. In 1968, Congress established the Uniform Monday Holiday Act to ensure three-day weekends for federal employees. Because of its cultural weight, patriotic groups fiercely opposed making the observance of July 4 flexible. But their intent to retain its sanctity may have actually undermined its celebration. Tourist activity is less when a holiday falls on a weekday and businesses often remain open, further reducing public participation.

At the same time, America’s tally of wars has grown, lending more importance to Memorial Day and Veterans Day, patriotic remembrances of more recent American sacrifice. Those days are celebrated every year with parades and commemorative ceremonies in almost every town.

Adams foresaw epic festivities with “… Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations [fireworks],” but an increasingly safety conscious society has curtailed this. When I was a child, a neighboring family had a kiosk in their front yard selling fireworks. July Fourth nights, my father would put on a display in our backyard, much to our juvenile delight.

But that kiosk was shut down more than 70 years ago, when aerial and explosive fireworks were declared illegal in Connecticut for non-licensed individuals. Firecrackers, Roman candles and bottle rockets have been banned since the mid-20th century, leaving only the more benign sparklers and fountains for legal use by those older than 16. 

Even traditional aerial fireworks displays at approved events are becoming less frequent because of the expense of such shows, the unpredictability of the weather, and the stress for both domestic and wild animals. 

Parties are fun, of course, but perhaps this 250th anniversary year allows us to contemplate the landmark celebration in a more meaningful way. The United States is an experiment, a venture into liberty that Benjamin Franklin pessimistically wondered whether we could sustain. 

In the preface to “The American Revolution, An Intimate History,” the companion book to Ken Burns’ blockbuster documentary, Burns writes that the America Revolution has been sanitized, compressed into “the comforting mythology of Great Men thinking Great Thoughts.” Rather, he argues, “The American Revolution is our epic song, our epic verse, giving us the opportunity to ask ourselves questions central to the creation of the United States.”

Two hundred and fifty years later, Americans are still faced with the demanding task of defining our country. Again, we have to ask ourselves what are our core values? How will we treat each other? How do we choose to stand on the world stage?

The nation’s origin story includes both violence and compromise. John Adams’ words to his wife on July 3, 1776, still ring true today: “You will think me transported with Enthusiasm but I am not—I am well aware of the Toil and Blood and Treasure that it will cost Us to maintain this Declaration, and support and defend these States.—Yet through all the Gloom I can see the Rays of ravishing Light and Glory. I can see that the End is more than worth all the Means.”

America has and always will be evolving and Independence Day is our chance to stop and think about what each of us can do to make the promise of July 4 a reality. We can celebrate our freedoms even as we fight for them. We can celebrate what we want our country to be even when it’s not. We can fight to make things better together. 

Kathryn Boughton is editor of the Kent Dispatch. Her views in Out on a Limb are hers alone and do not necessarily reflect those of Kent News Inc. the Dispatch’s parent company.