Whatever else one may say about it, the Fourth of July is always evocative. It means something. People think in first-person possessive pronouns—my country, or our country—and those pronouns always generate emotion. Especially that latter plural pronoun, with all the suggested associations with unity, with belonging.

What is the difference between patriotism and nationalism? The best explanation I’ve read is in an essay by C.S. Lewis, in which he distinguished love for one’s homeland from the nationalistic fervor of the Third Reich, against which Britain was struggling at the time. (I cannot recall the source for the essay or its title, but I believe it was a radio address delivered during the war.) He said that when he thinks of his country, he has a mental picture of Victoria Station. He went on to explicate the meaning of “place”, grounded in familiarity, in memory, in associations with family, friends, childhood, all that one holds personally dear. None of that meaning is even remotely associated with politics or political doctrine.

I think I was affected at the time because of my own love for my homeland, which, historically, was “traitor” to this country. Few historians have ever really attempted to understand, much less explain, Robert E. Lee’s motivation for turning down Lincoln’s offer of command of Union forces, preferring instead to assume command of the “enemy” forces of Virginia. I never had any trouble understanding him. It had to do with love for one’s homeland; it had nothing to do with political doctrine, still less to do with slavery.

Maybe there really is no such thing as coincidence after all. I had never thought of any historical role England may have played in the War Between the States, other than that of southern sympathizer (primarily because England needed southern cotton for its mills), but in a conversation with an English laborer in a Birmingham pub several years ago, I received the surprising opinion that the American Civil War was a continuation of the English Civil War. The opinion’s surprise was superceded by the surprising sense it made. The violent intensity with which the abolitionists hated the South, settled largely by cavaliers, had its geographical seat in Puritan New England. Most historians agree that without that fervor, a political solution would have been found and war would have been avoided.

Now for the coincidence. I was lightly gliding over the internet (I never “surf”), actually looking for the source of the Lewis essay, when I came across a book published this year by an old acquaintance, Charles Coulombe. It has to go on my reading list, even though I’ve promised myself repeatedly to stop that list from growing. It’s called Puritan’s Empire. Coulombe explores Americanism as the natural offspring of Puritan anti-Catholicism. Excerpts from the book (which contains massive historical research typical of Coulombe) make almost alarming sense, particularly as they relate to consequences for modern England and Europe. Here is a link to the review:

http://corjesusacratissimum.org/2010/01/book-review-puritan%C2%B4s-empire-by-charles-a-coulombe/