A lesson learned from AND THEN THERE WAS LIGHT: ABRAHAM LINCOLN AND THE AMERICAN STRUGGLE, by Jon Meacham

 Never be too certain your side is the right one.

    I have read so many Lincoln-themed books now--with more waiting on my shelf!--that every time I read one I wonder if I will be able to find a new lesson to take away from it. Needless to say, I am not quite familiar with the details of his life and the major events surrounding it, and few Lincoln books these days really offer radical new discoveries. Nonetheless, he's a much more pleasant historical figure to spend time with than some of the others I have recently (I seriously never need to read a Hitler book again). Every Lincoln book tends to have a different area of focus, and Meacham (an excellent and acclaimed historian) intriguingly focuses on Lincoln's religious journey of discovery. To what extent Lincoln was seriously religious is debated to this day; he started his life as something of a skeptic, and while religious iconography seeped into all his later speeches, historians still debate how much of a "conversion" he underwent. Meacham is more inclined to believe that Lincoln became a genuine believer late in his life, if not in a standard Christian sense, then at least with a strong sense of faith and that a higher power was overseeing and judging the world.

    Studying this aspect of Lincoln's writings does open up a fascinating lesson that Lincoln knew all too well, and often stressed in his presidential writings and speeches; and that was the danger that one could become so convinced of the righteousness of their cause, that they could become blinded and ignore all the evidence of their own failings. Lincoln always believed in the righteousness of the Union's cause, especially once emancipation became a cornerstone of his policy. Interestingly though, one cautionary lesson Lincoln would tell Northern audiences was they must not be too blind to their own failings. He knew damn well that slavery was a national, and not just a Southern sin; as he pointed out, northerners had tolerated and profited off of Southern slavery going back to its very beginnings. He constantly tried to understand the perspective of white Southerners, telling northern whites that they might have joined the rebellion had they been in that exact same situation. He noted that Confederates all believed that God had mandated slavery and blessed their cause, just as strongly as Northerners believe that God had blessed the concept of a sacred national Union. Lincoln's single greatest speech (his Second Inaugural) is full of these themes, and it was actually seen by some Northerners as something of a disappointment at the time, as he refused to fill it with "Rah Rah we've won!!" ideology.

    Whether one believes that Lincoln became a genuinely religious man in his final years or not, he never stopped being open-minded, trying to understand the perspectives of others and recognize the potential failings coming from his own side. Meacham points out the tragedy that, for all we know, Lincoln might have never stopped growing and evolving, and might have continued his terrific national vision to lead to a more just and peaceful nation had he survived for longer (there's no way he could have done worse than the disasters that followed with his successor Andrew Johnson's notable lack of vision). There is still much we can learn from Abraham Lincoln; some of the greatest historical crimes are committed by those who do not doubt enough the righteousness of their cause, and believe their own visions must be implemented regardless of the cost. Lincoln did believe there were moral red lines that could not be crossed (especially regarding slavery), but he never stopped reminding the political ideologues around him that they should "judge not lest they be judged."