Give me liberty or give me a deal!
Two hundred and fifty years ago today, Patrick Henry delivered what would become one of America's most poignant rallying cries: "Give me liberty or give me death!" While the exact details of his speech, delivered at the Second Virginia Convention at St. John's Church in Richmond, Virginia, are debated, with the main account produced by William Wirt being recorded 40 years after the fact, what was consistently reported by the convention attendees was the profound impact of his words on the audience present (which included contemporaries George Washington and Thomas Jefferson) and on their subsequent actions. The Convention resolved to raise its own colonial militia, independent of the British crown, which, a year later, helped oust the British governor Lord Dunmore and saw Patrick Henry become the first governor of an independent Virginia in July of 1776.
Re-visiting the speech a quarter of a millennium later, its relevance endures, regardless of the new political context.
Before his famous remarks, Henry presented three resolutions to the convention. The first called for forming a colonial militia to eliminate any justification for British forces in Virginia or associated taxes. The second argued that this was particularly necessary in 1775 to secure rights & liberties in the colony after its British governor, Lord Dunmore, had repeatedly postponed the legislative House of Burgesses assembly, preventing legislation from being newly enacted or extended. The third proposed putting the militia into a ‘posture of Defence’ and for plans to be drawn up for its operations.
The third resolution sparked particular debate from the assembled representatives, who were worried that such a step might be interpreted by the British as seeking conflict rather than preparing for it, which Henry addresses in his opening remarks:
No man thinks more highly than I do of the patriotism, as well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who have just addressed the House. But different men often see the same subject in different lights; and, therefore, I hope it will not be thought disrespectful to those gentlemen if, entertaining as I do, opinions of a character very opposite to theirs, I shall speak forth my sentiments freely, and without reserve. This is no time for ceremony. The question before the House is one of awful moment to this country. For my own part, I consider it as nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery; and in proportion to the magnitude of the subject ought to be the freedom of the debate. It is only in this way that we can hope to arrive at truth, and fulfil the great responsibility which we hold to God and our country. Should I keep back my opinions at such a time, through fear of giving offence, I should consider myself as guilty of treason towards my country, and of an act of disloyalty toward the majesty of heaven, which I revere above all earthly kings.
Mr. President, it is natural to man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are we disposed to be of the number of those who, having eyes, see not, and, having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it.
Hope is double-edged sword - one that can both inspire and unite in the face of adversity, and one that can blind against present and clear danger, convincing us to paint soothing pictures of a future that we have no hand in. Henry continues, not by looking to the future, but by reminding of the decade-long track record of contempt from the British ministry:
I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided; and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past. And judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the British ministry for the last ten years, to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves, and the House? Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with these war-like preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled, that force must be called in to win back our love? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation; the last arguments to which kings resort. I ask, gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assign any other possible motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy, in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us; they can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains which the British ministry have been so long forging. And what have we to oppose to them? Shall we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has been all in vain. Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? What terms shall we find which have not been already exhausted? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves. Sir, we have done everything that could be done, to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded; and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne. In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained, we must fight! I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and to the God of Hosts is all that is left us!
With new wars and tensions rising around the globe today, Henry’s clarity of danger and conviction in the necessary precautions are both compelling in their directness and confronting in their requirement for bold action.
Today’s 24/7 cable news and online self-referential engagement machine has created new platforms for diverse viewpoints, but it has also coddled us into requiring a non-stop dance of outrageous and self-validating content - to get our heart rates up, to tweet about, to share, to nod along to, but seldom to turn off and take meaningful action. Instead, we sit, we endure, we watch self-help videos about procrastination until our simmering frustrations finally prompt us to fire off an angry social media post—considering this meager response our civic duty fulfilled.
In his pre-digital era, Henry encountered similar resistance:
They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance, by lying supinely on our backs, and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power. Three millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations; and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come.
The government version of this modern irresolution and inaction which is consuming us is currently manifesting itself through hasty ‘deal-making’ - from tariffs to institutional cuts to peace deals drafted on bar napkins, announced and walked back on a daily basis. While many of these measures are desperately needed, they emerge as anxious outburst of a bureaucratic mind unwilling to face reality or unable to comport itself with the self-assured dignity that a government ought to possess. Instead, we see power and influence, but even more unusually, administrative tasks being delegated to corporate billionaire individuals in a blind hope that their marketed genius (or as a last resort - cash) will solve structural governmental inefficiencies. Patrick Henry would be dismayed.
If you have gotten this far, I cannot for much longer withhold that final and most eminent paragraph of his speech. As you read it, consider that it was meant as a rallying cry to action:
It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!
Which passage from Patrick Henry’s speech resonates with you most and why?
Source: Wirt, William. Sketches of the Life and Character of Patrick Henry . (Philadelphia) 1836, as reproduced in The World's Great Speeches, Lewis Copeland and Lawrence W. Lamm, eds., (New York) 1973.