What kind of criticism would prompt a major publisher to
withdraw from circulation a New York Times
best seller by a recognized scholar? One
would think the objections would have to be weighty and the critics
unquestioned experts in the particular field. In the case of The Jefferson Lies one would be mistaken to make those assumptions.
In 2012 David Barton’s popular analysis of Thomas Jefferson
was pulled by its publisher, Thomas Nelson, based on what appears to have been
an academic putsch designed to protect the now-popular view of the third
president as a secular deist and hypocritical, slave-holding philanderer. This uprising was led by a motley intellectual
crew who, for the most part, had little or no expertise in the subject matter
at issue.
The re-release of The
Jefferson Lies by WND Books begins with an extended preface in which the
author discusses the largely picayune objections raised against his original
work -- primarily by a psychology professor from Grove
City College ,
Warren Throckmorton. These somewhat
arcane refutations should have been placed at the end of the work -- allowing Barton’s
clear and convincing evidence to speak first for itself. That evidence primarily concerns “lies” about Jefferson ’s
relationship with his slave, Sally Hemings, “lies” about Jefferson ’s
supposed hypocrisy vis-à-vis slavery, “lies” about the ex-president’s position concerning
the separation of church and state, and “lies” related to Jefferson ’s
religious beliefs.
Barton’s most startling revelation concerns the brazenly
dishonest claim that DNA evidence had proved
Jefferson fathered one of Sally Hemings’ children. This blockbuster story in Nature magazine (November 5, 1998) was splashed with gusto all
over the national media. The retraction
of this “proof” came eight weeks later -- with all the impact of an obscure page
16 correction. Equally significant was
the political end to which the initial DNA
lie was employed, coming as it did in the midst of the Clinton-Lewinsky
impeachment imbroglio. To cap it all
off, that headline story in Nature was
written by a Clinton supporter, historian
Joseph Ellis, who, as it turns out, was as much a liar as the President he
supported. Barton provides an amusing
list of Ellis fabrications that extend from the sublime (serving on General
Westmoreland’s staff during the Vietnam War) to the ridiculous (scoring the
winning touchdown in the last football game his senior year in high school).
In point of fact, as Barton makes clear, the DNA
evidence actually excludes Jefferson as the father of Hemings’
son, Thomas, the child typically said to be Jefferson ’s.
Moreover, the other Hemings child that
could possibly have been Jefferson ’s, Eston, was most
likely sired by Jefferson ’s younger brother, Randolph,
and not by the sixty-five-year-old former President. Indeed, Eston was a Randolph
family name and the child’s conception coincided with a possibly extended visit
by Jefferson ’s brother to Monticello . Moreover, Randolph ,
unlike Thomas, often fraternized with slaves, a fact noted in the memoir of Isaac
Jefferson, a Monticello slave who
observed that Randolph “used to
come out among black people, play the fiddle and dance half the night.”
Ask anyone nowadays if DNA
evidence has proven Jefferson was the father of one or
more of Sally Hemings’ children, and chances are the answer, if any, will be
“yes.” Thus, as with Oliver Stone’s rewrite
of JFK’s assassination, the mainstream media, corrupt academicians, and a
sensation-seeking pop-culture have again conspired to manipulate history for
their own ends.
The Jefferson Lies
also marshals an abundance of evidence from letters, laws, and public
declarations to show that Jefferson was certainly not a
deist as that term is now understood. Nor
did he possess any view of the “separation between Church and State” that
mirrors the modern transmogrification of those words by the courts. Indeed, Jefferson himself regularly attended
church services that were held in the Capitol building and approved various
laws that involved missionary work among Indian tribes. What Jefferson clearly
opposed were established churches supported directly by state governments like Virginia
and Massachusetts . Indeed, it was the infringement of their religious
liberty by the state of Connecticut
that the Danbury Baptists most feared -- the group to whom Jefferson
penned the letter containing the now-infamous “separation” phrase.
In short, the Jefferson that emerges from the evidence
presented by Barton is of a man who provided financial support for the
publication of bibles, embraced a non-denominational piety, had numerous
friends (and numerous enemies) among the clergy, clearly expressed the idea that
God acts in history (often using the term ‘providence’ that was commonly
employed even by evangelical Christians), and honestly desired to free his
slaves but was unable to do so because of the numerous Virginia laws that made
emancipation, for Jefferson, a financial impossibility. That Jefferson
expressed uncertainty about the de facto,
rather than the de jure, equality of
the races is hardly surprising given his historical circumstances. But this historical “given” is regularly
ignored by folks who delight in disparaging America ’s
past in order to enlarge their already exaggerated self-esteem.
The most disappointing chapter in Barton’s work concerns the
“lie” that Jefferson was an atheist and anti-Christian. What is off-putting here is not Barton’s
general argument but his regular insertion of judgments about various Christian
groups’ orthodoxy -- judgments that obviously correspond with the author’s
preference for traditional Trinitarian Christianity. These unnecessary observations about
“unfortunate” religious movements lend a parochial odor to an otherwise
scholarly work.
So who should read The
Jefferson Lies? Anyone who thinks
that Thomas Jefferson and William Jefferson Clinton have a lot in common, anyone
who thinks Thomas Jefferson supported the modern notion of “separation of
church and state,” anyone who thinks Jefferson was a hypocritical racist, and anyone
who thinks academia and the publishing world aren’t partisan cesspools.
No comments:
Post a Comment