The title of this entry is a hilarious inside joke, or else, another Sphinx’s riddle. To all the uninitiated whose feelings may have been offended by it, I sincerely apologize. Rest assured, though, that I am using the word “defector” in the best possible sense.
On a slightly different subject, this entry is a natural follow-up for the previous one, Give Me Liberty..., as the Revolutionary Falernum continues to flow in it.
Whether she likes it or not, America is a nation of defectors. To begin with, all British subjects,--- renouncing their allegiance to the Crown and, in order to start a new nation of their own, consorting with Britain’s bitter enemies, that is, primarily France and to a lesser extent Spain and Holland,--- were considered traitors by their mother country, for which “defector” is just a milder term.
On the other hand, by my old-fashioned Webster’s Dictionary’s definition (it does not even have “defector” as a separate noun, using instead the verb defect and the noun defection), the word defection is synonymous with desertion, and all émigrés, unless forced by circumstances beyond their control, such as forced exile or extreme persecution, are deserters by the very substance of the word’s definition.
A nation of immigrants, historically only a small part of them had been driven out of the nation of their birth by the force of overwhelming circumstances. Most settlers in America, whether of old or already in our time (the so-called economic deserters), have been adventurers at heart. The upside of each new case of unforced immigration to America has thus been the adventurism and energy of the newcomer’s spirit, but the obvious downside in all such cases has been the act of desertion on their part of their nation of birth, which qualifies them all as “defectors.”
My special interest in this entry is the most famous “defector” of the American Revolution, we might say, a defector’s defector, the Englishman Thomas Paine. This good man was, apparently, much dissatisfied with his boring life in the country of his birth, changed jobs with a remarkable speed, and was at least once fired for cheating before he had a chance to move on of his own volition. A new life in America suited him quite well, and from the humble status of a rather undistinguished gentleman he would be suddenly propelled to a virtually instantaneous stardom in the New World, becoming the foremost artist of agitation and propaganda that the nascent American nation could boast of.
Adventurous people are usually impulsive and controversial, and they cannot stop being controversial when the going gets good. Alas, Thomas Paine, a Trotsky prototype, was a permanent revolutionist, and could not stay put and happy after the Revolution was won and over. Although highly esteemed for his contribution to the cause of the Revolution and, barring major surprises, well on his way to political stardom in America, he continued his inflammatory exercises after the Revolution and in a restless mood returned to London, where he would not stay for too long, chased out of the country for his seditious and highly contentious writings. Not to worry, though. He almost found excellent use for his talents in France, where a violent and fiercely iconoclastic revolution of her own was taking place with a vengeance. The peripeties of this revolution saw Paine, a foreigner, elected to the French National Convention; next arrested and jailed; next freed, thanks to the advocacy of the James Monroe, at that time American Ambassador to Paris. Subsequently, Paine offered his services to Napoleon, with whom he had at least one desire in common: to do some harm to England, his “mother” country. Despite such promising common interest, Paine did not stay friendly with Napoleon, but rather arrogantly accused him of being “the completest charlatan that ever existed.” Napoleon new better than seek retribution against him, and Paine remained a free man, but he was financially ruined when he was deprived of the printing presses and could no longer print and sell his wildly popular books and pamphlets. Eventually, on Thomas Jefferson’s invitation, he returned to America in 1803, where he died in 1809. His funeral was attended by six persons only.
Why only six? Well, to start with, none of the American Churches could be happy with his rightly perceived virulent attacks on religion, and thus the only place where he could not be denied burial was his own private estate in New Rochelle, New York.
Next, although a nation of “immigrants,” I suspect that America does not like defectors too much. Making celebrities out of them for propaganda purposes is one thing, but why should these foreigners be celebrated beyond that, deserters as they are, anyway?…
Before I am done with this provocative entry, there is a reason why in it I am not going through the long list of America’s illustrious foreigners of the Revolutionary period. Unlike Paine, although enormously helpful to the United States, none of them renounced their native country’s allegiance, like Paine did. Let us look at just one case in that category. Marquis de Lafayette (I am using the American spelling of his name), an adventurous Frenchman, was initially unwelcome in America, as just another glory seeker, until he managed to convince the Continental Congress that his basic intentions were quite honorable, by offering to serve the American Revolution… free of charge. And indeed, he did serve gratis through and through, and he even paid all such expenses where it would have been only natural for the Congress to pick up the tab. I can hardly say for sure what really motivated him all along, but my best guess is that it was the same intoxication with the spirit of Liberty, coupled with an insatiable desire for adventure, that I was writing about in the previous entry Give Me Liberty… As for America’s reaction to Lafayette’s generous and valiant exploits, he was amply rewarded for them by having a few places named after him, and by being granted US citizenship… in 2002.
On a slightly different subject, this entry is a natural follow-up for the previous one, Give Me Liberty..., as the Revolutionary Falernum continues to flow in it.
Whether she likes it or not, America is a nation of defectors. To begin with, all British subjects,--- renouncing their allegiance to the Crown and, in order to start a new nation of their own, consorting with Britain’s bitter enemies, that is, primarily France and to a lesser extent Spain and Holland,--- were considered traitors by their mother country, for which “defector” is just a milder term.
On the other hand, by my old-fashioned Webster’s Dictionary’s definition (it does not even have “defector” as a separate noun, using instead the verb defect and the noun defection), the word defection is synonymous with desertion, and all émigrés, unless forced by circumstances beyond their control, such as forced exile or extreme persecution, are deserters by the very substance of the word’s definition.
A nation of immigrants, historically only a small part of them had been driven out of the nation of their birth by the force of overwhelming circumstances. Most settlers in America, whether of old or already in our time (the so-called economic deserters), have been adventurers at heart. The upside of each new case of unforced immigration to America has thus been the adventurism and energy of the newcomer’s spirit, but the obvious downside in all such cases has been the act of desertion on their part of their nation of birth, which qualifies them all as “defectors.”
My special interest in this entry is the most famous “defector” of the American Revolution, we might say, a defector’s defector, the Englishman Thomas Paine. This good man was, apparently, much dissatisfied with his boring life in the country of his birth, changed jobs with a remarkable speed, and was at least once fired for cheating before he had a chance to move on of his own volition. A new life in America suited him quite well, and from the humble status of a rather undistinguished gentleman he would be suddenly propelled to a virtually instantaneous stardom in the New World, becoming the foremost artist of agitation and propaganda that the nascent American nation could boast of.
Adventurous people are usually impulsive and controversial, and they cannot stop being controversial when the going gets good. Alas, Thomas Paine, a Trotsky prototype, was a permanent revolutionist, and could not stay put and happy after the Revolution was won and over. Although highly esteemed for his contribution to the cause of the Revolution and, barring major surprises, well on his way to political stardom in America, he continued his inflammatory exercises after the Revolution and in a restless mood returned to London, where he would not stay for too long, chased out of the country for his seditious and highly contentious writings. Not to worry, though. He almost found excellent use for his talents in France, where a violent and fiercely iconoclastic revolution of her own was taking place with a vengeance. The peripeties of this revolution saw Paine, a foreigner, elected to the French National Convention; next arrested and jailed; next freed, thanks to the advocacy of the James Monroe, at that time American Ambassador to Paris. Subsequently, Paine offered his services to Napoleon, with whom he had at least one desire in common: to do some harm to England, his “mother” country. Despite such promising common interest, Paine did not stay friendly with Napoleon, but rather arrogantly accused him of being “the completest charlatan that ever existed.” Napoleon new better than seek retribution against him, and Paine remained a free man, but he was financially ruined when he was deprived of the printing presses and could no longer print and sell his wildly popular books and pamphlets. Eventually, on Thomas Jefferson’s invitation, he returned to America in 1803, where he died in 1809. His funeral was attended by six persons only.
Why only six? Well, to start with, none of the American Churches could be happy with his rightly perceived virulent attacks on religion, and thus the only place where he could not be denied burial was his own private estate in New Rochelle, New York.
Next, although a nation of “immigrants,” I suspect that America does not like defectors too much. Making celebrities out of them for propaganda purposes is one thing, but why should these foreigners be celebrated beyond that, deserters as they are, anyway?…
Before I am done with this provocative entry, there is a reason why in it I am not going through the long list of America’s illustrious foreigners of the Revolutionary period. Unlike Paine, although enormously helpful to the United States, none of them renounced their native country’s allegiance, like Paine did. Let us look at just one case in that category. Marquis de Lafayette (I am using the American spelling of his name), an adventurous Frenchman, was initially unwelcome in America, as just another glory seeker, until he managed to convince the Continental Congress that his basic intentions were quite honorable, by offering to serve the American Revolution… free of charge. And indeed, he did serve gratis through and through, and he even paid all such expenses where it would have been only natural for the Congress to pick up the tab. I can hardly say for sure what really motivated him all along, but my best guess is that it was the same intoxication with the spirit of Liberty, coupled with an insatiable desire for adventure, that I was writing about in the previous entry Give Me Liberty… As for America’s reaction to Lafayette’s generous and valiant exploits, he was amply rewarded for them by having a few places named after him, and by being granted US citizenship… in 2002.
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