The word kept coming up over and over: “living.” That’s the term people used this week to describe the stunning exhibit now at MOHAI, “Freedom Plane National Tour: Documents That Forged a Nation.” The dignitaries and sponsors who spoke at the Freedom Plane’s landing at Boeing Field on Monday, and the curators and organizers at the museum midweek, all used the term about these carefully chosen pieces of writing that show the sometimes rough ride to nationhood.
But it’s hard to regard these pieces of parchment from centuries ago, written by people who never could have imagined the world we inhabit now, as “living.” What does that mean? What comes alive for us while looking at museum pieces, trapped airless, under glass?
A lot, it turns out. Each document was born out of a pivotal time in the 1770s and the smallest details tell a big story. I was surprised at what drove the point home to me the most. (Your mileage may vary.)
Take the Oaths of Allegiance. The three little cards, about 4 inches by 6 inches, selected for this exhibit were signed by George Washington, Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr. Congress required that Continental Army officers complete these in 1778. The oaths were the original No Kings statement; part of the very long single sentence that makes up Washington’s oath is this: “I, George Washington, Commander in chief of the Armies of the United States of America, do acknowledge the United States of America, to be Free, Independent and Sovereign States, and declare that the people thereof owe no allegiance or obedience to George the Third, King of Great-Britain …” The oath goes on to ask the signatory to defend against “heirs or successors” of King George III, but apparently Queen Elizabeth II and King Charles III didn’t take it personally, as both have addressed Congress.
Think about it: These cards were signed after the brutal winter at Valley Forge but in that same camp; the Revolutionary War would continue five more years. There was no guarantee of A United States of America. Yet all three signed. Washington’s signature is elegant and distinctive; Hamilton’s is beautifully ornate; Burr’s is a curt “ABurr” with what looks like extra pressure on the “B.” We all know what happened in 1804, but if penmanship is somewhat a measure of the man, we can maybe see a little of what’s to come. These men read, held in their hands and put their names on these very cards. Would they have signed if Congress didn’t demand it? Did any of them hesitate? We don’t know. But all three vowed, at great risk, “no king.” That, to me, is a living document.
If “living” means something that can stand up to attack, grow and change, the Bill of Rights certainly fits. The Freedom Plane brought the pages listing a series of amendments that Rep. James Madison and his House colleagues proposed adding to the Constitution in 1789. Senators went to town on Madison’s work, verbally and in writing, whittling the list of 17 to 12; the states approved 10. As an editor and sometime writer, I felt the pain of both sides. Comes in too long; not enough payoff, especially when it comes to religion and guns; some heavy crossouts suggest a long day. “Fine! We’ll take that out.”
Notable is what became the First Amendment, which wasn’t first to start with, but was eventually deemed worthy to sit at the top. It guarantees us freedom of assembly, press, speech, worship and petition for redress of grievances. It is just 45 words, but it sets this nation apart. Those words have stood the test of time at No. 1 and surely will stand there for years to come. To those of us in the press, the amendment is first among equals. It makes this newspaper possible, as it makes your place of worship — or your decision not to worship at all — not just tolerated, but guaranteed in writing.
It’s important to remember, as you browse the documents, that while they were meant to stand for freedom and inalienable rights, their composers did not take into account the Indigenous people already on the continent when they arrived, nor the enslaved Africans forced to journey there, nor wives, sisters and daughters born on the soil that let democracy grow. Their rights and freedoms came much later.
Over time, some of those rights have become fragile, like the original parchment. Yet, the only way they live is when we read them and keep their promises.
