America’s 250th birthday invites a look at the past to create a better future

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Jennifer N. Pritzker, a retired Illinois Army National Guard colonel, is founder and chairwoman of TAWANI Enterprises and founder of both the TAWANI Foundation and Pritzker Military Foundation. Through these organizations, she advances her long-standing commitment to preserve military heritage and historical sites, support veterans and underserved populations and strengthen communities through grants focused on historic conservation, health and wellness initiatives, education programs and more. She is also the founder of the Pritzker Military Museum & Library, an institution she built to expand public understanding of military history, national security and the experiences of service members past and present.

This summer marks the 250th birthday of the United States and its armed forces. While there is much to celebrate about this milestone, our nation also faces challenges that threaten our survival as a democratic republic rooted in the rule of law. The study of history – military history in particular – is essential to finding our way.

For example, we are divided by extreme political views on every conceivable topic: the limits of presidential power, who has what rights, who should use which bathroom, and what athletic team children should play on. Our people suffer from inflation, an affordability crisis, and uncertainty in so many areas of their lives. Laws have been passed and executive orders issued that dramatically reduce the rights of many citizens.

We are also fighting a war in the Middle East that did not win authorization from Congress. The exit strategy is murky, and we are at risk of becoming mired in a forever war that is straining a treasury already reeling with debt and over-commitments.

Military history offers powerful lessons in how both ordinary and extraordinary people built and preserved great institutions and nations during times of adversity and challenge in the past. What motivated citizens and soldiers in America’s past to take dangerous risks, make endless sacrifices, and suffer pain and death in service to protecting freedom and democracy? How did our past leaders resolve similar crises? And why did other nations, including the French monarchy, choose to become an ally of an embryonic republic?

In thinking about America’s 250th birthday, the years 1776 and 2026 have much in common: Each raised probing questions about the nature of liberty, the rule of law, the limits of power, the threads that keep a society together, and how — and even whether — to secure the rights of women and minorities.

George Washington, whose impeccable character earned him a top place in the pantheon of world leaders, established one of the fundamental lessons of democratic governance. Putting in years of courageous, selfless military service, and two terms as the first president of the young republic, he declined the prospect of becoming a king. He saw himself, first and foremost, as a citizen, and secondly as a soldier. He aspired to be no more and no less than any other citizen. And his momentous decision to lead a republic instead of a monarchy made all the difference in birthing a modern democracy that would extend rights to more and more ordinary people.

Women and minorities made significant contributions to the establishment of democracy, often sacrificing mightily. Deborah Sampson, an 18th-century woman, disguised herself as a man to serve 17 months in the Continental Army. Crispus Attucks, a Massachusetts colonist of Wampanoag and African descent, is believed to have been the first to die in the Revolutionary War. Of course, along with the unprecedented achievements of the Spirit of ’76 was the original sin of allowing Black slavery to endure, as well as denying women a host of political, economic, and social rights — grave moral flaws that our society continues to pay for today.

Heroes like Sampson and Attucks died having fought for a society that, even after their sacrifices, continued to view them as less than fully human.

The Prussian military strategist Carl von Clausewitz, in a career that spanned into the 19th century, theorized that success in war depended on a mutually supportive relationship among government, the armed forces, and the people. More than two centuries later, that insight remains all the more powerful in a modern democracy.

A democratic military relies on a healthy relationship with the society it serves. Yet that relationship is showing a widening civil–military gap. Military applicants reached a 40-year low in 2022, and recent polling finds that less than half of Americans have strong confidence in the military, down sharply from 2018. Representation has also declined. In 1980, veterans made up around 18% of American adults; by 2022, that figure dropped to less than 7%. Fewer personal connections just widens the civil-military gap.

I believe we can close that gap and pull our democracy through this series of crises.

Through studying and preserving military history, we can gain a clearer idea of why we fight, how to win, and whether the costs are worthwhile. Now is the time for all Americans, our allies and supporters, and anyone committed to the future of democracy worldwide, to come together.

As Benjamin Franklin remarked, either we can all hang together, or we’ll all hang separately. If we wish to survive as a democratic republic, and to achieve the lofty — indeed utopian — goals of our predecessors 250 years ago, we must study the past to understand the present so that we can make better decisions for the future. With understanding of the past and a commitment to our collective future, we can achieve a far more perfect union, one that builds upon the progress of 1776 to preserve well into the future the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness for all.