[Congressional Record Volume 148, Number 5 (Tuesday, January 29, 2002)]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Pages E40-E42]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




LYNNE CHENEY SPEAKS AT PRINCETON UNIVERSITY ON ``TEACHING FOR FREEDOM''

                                 ______
                                 

                           HON. FRANK R. WOLF

                              of virginia

                    in the house of representatives

                       Tuesday, January 29, 2002

  Mr. WOLF. Mr. Speaker, I want to share with our colleagues a speech 
delivered late last year at Princeton University by Lynne V. Cheney, 
the wife of the Vice President of the United States, about the 
importance of knowing history and teaching it well. An expert on 
education, Mrs. Cheney is a senior fellow at the American Enterprise 
Institute and holds a doctorate degree from the University of 
Wisconsin.

  ``Teaching for Freedom'', Address by Lynne V. Cheney, James Madison 
            Program, Princeton University, November 29, 2001

       It's a great pleasure to be here this afternoon as part of 
     the James Madison Program in American Ideals and 
     Institutions. Professor George, you deserve congratulations 
     for the excellence of this program's efforts, and let me 
     praise Princeton University as well. By giving this program a 
     home, Princeton is setting an example of how people of 
     differing viewpoints can, in a university setting, debate 
     important issues with seriousness and civility.
       For someone who loves American history, this part of New 
     Jersey is a remarkable place to be, a place rich with stories 
     of our country's past. Next month, on Christmas night, it 
     will be two hundred twenty-five years since George Washington 
     cross the Delaware, and in a surprise attack on the Hessian 
     mercenaries manning the British post at Trenton, managed to 
     kill dozens and capture more than nine hundred while 
     sustaining not a single fatality on the American side.
       The wonderful painting by Emanuel Leutze of Washington 
     crossing the ice-choked Delaware hints, but barely, at the 
     significance of this victory. The men in the boat with 
     Washington are dressed in a motley assortment of clothes. One 
     does not imagine that Washington has a highly trained and 
     disciplined force. But the men in the boat do not look nearly 
     as ragged and miserable as the historical record suggests 
     Washington's troops were. The painter Charles Wilson Peale, 
     observing Washington's army in early December, as they were 
     retreating before the advancing British, had been struck with 
     horror at the sight of the sick, exhausted, and half-naked 
     men. One soldier approached Peale. He was a man who ``had 
     lost all his clothes. He was in an old, dirty blanket jacket, 
     his beard long, and his face so full of sores he could not 
     clean it.'' Only when the soldier spoke, did Peale realize 
     that it was his much-loved brother James.
       These Americans, going up against superior numbers of 
     British forces, who were better equipped and better trained, 
     had, not surprisingly, spent most of the war thus far in 
     retreat. And that is why Trenton mattered so much, because 
     suddenly, in the depths of icy winter, there was a victory, 
     and Washington was determined to build on it. He moved his 
     troops back to Pennsylvania, waited until the commissary 
     wagons could bring provisions, and then on December 30th, 
     crossed the Delaware into New Jersey again and entrenched his 
     troops near Trenton. Since the enlistments of most of his men 
     expired at year's end, his first job was to persuade a 
     significant number of them to stick with him, which he did 
     with rousing speeches--and $50,000 raised by Philadelphia 
     financier Robert Morris.
       Some of Washington's men may have regretted the decision to 
     stay on when, on January 2, 1777, General Cornwallis and 5000 
     well-trained, well-equipped men advanced on Trenton from 
     Princeton. Washington's pickets had to fall back across a 
     creek. With shot and shell flying overhead, scores of men had 
     to make their way across a narrow stone bridge, and while 
     there was no doubt fear, there was no panic. At the end of 
     the bridge, Washington, on horseback, had taken up a position 
     where his men could see him, firm, composed, resolute. One of 
     his men forever remembered pressing ``against the shoulder of 
     the General's horse'' and touching Washington's boot.
       Cornwallis was convinced that he had Washington, whom he 
     called ``the old fox,'' trapped, but Washington, leaving his 
     campfires burning as a diversion, moved most of his men 
     around the British left flank and headed for Princeton. The 
     first encounter between an American brigade approaching 
     Princeton and British troops leaving it to join their main 
     force in Trenton did not go well for the Americans. Many were 
     wounded and killed in a bayonet attack. The survivors fell 
     back, bloody, dazed, confused, but Washington rallied them 
     and after more troops arrived, led them himself toward the 
     British. Displaying astonished bravery, he took his men to 
     within thirty yards of the British lines and ordered them to 
     fire. One staff officer was so sure Washington would be 
     killed that he pulled his hat over his eyes to escape the 
     sight, but when the smoke cleared, the General was unharmed. 
     The staff officer wept in relief. Washington clasped his hand 
     and then led the charge after the fleeing British.
       As I'm sure everyone living near Princeton knows, this 
     story has a pretty dramatic ending. The British took refuge 
     in Nassau Hall, which the Americans then fired upon. The 
     result was not only to persuade the British to surrender, 
     but, legend has it, to decapitate, with a well-fired 
     cannonball, a portrait of King George the Second.
       Now, I tell this story in part because it is a wonderful 
     story, and it is an important one as well. Demoralized as 
     Washington and his countrymen were, news of these victories, 
     James Thomas Flexner has written, ``traveled across America 
     like a rainstorm across a parched land, lifting bowed heads 
     everywhere.'' But I also tell this story because it

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     makes the point--as so many of the stories of our country's 
     beginnings do--that this nation was not inevitable. The 
     founders had the odds stacked very much against them. No one 
     had ever thrown off a colonial power before. No one had ever 
     established representative government over a vast expanse of 
     land. The Americans were going up against the mightiest 
     military force in the world, and so much of the success they 
     did experience depended on individuals, particularly on 
     Washington, whose legendary bravery--so inspiring to his 
     men--might easily have gotten him killed.
       During one battle in the French and Indian War, he had two 
     horses shot out from under him, one bullet had gone through 
     his hat and three ripped through his uniform. A few years 
     later, in 1757, when two detachments of Virginians mistakenly 
     began firing upon one another, he rode his horse between the 
     firing troops and used his sword to knock the gun barrels 
     skyward. Fourteen men were killed, but Washington was 
     untouched. If it had turned out otherwise, who would have 
     commanded our troops in the Revolutionary War? Who could have 
     lent similar prestige to the Constitutional Convention? Who 
     could have been trusted to be the first president--and to 
     give up power at the proper time?
       We are very lucky that things turned out as they did, and 
     so is the world. Jefferson believed that the American 
     Revolution would set the ball of liberty so well in motion 
     that it would roll round the globe, and he was right. 
     Inspired by what happened here, people in other parts of the 
     world began to struggle for freedom and many of them 
     succeeded. But freedom, as the study of our history shows, is 
     not our inevitable heritage, nor is it humankind's. This 
     realization should make our freedom all the more precious to 
     us, all the more worth defending. Were we to lose it, liberty 
     might not come our way again.
       The concern I would like to bring before you tonight is 
     that we haven't done a very good job of teaching our history. 
     We haven't given young people the knowledge they need in 
     order to appreciate how greatly fortunate we are to live in 
     freedom or, indeed, to have much insight at all into the 
     American past. A 1989 survey of college seniors showed that 
     more than half did not understand the purpose of The 
     Federalist papers. One out of four was unable to distinguish 
     Karl Marx's words from the ideas of the United States 
     Constitution. A 1999 survey of elite college seniors--that is 
     seniors at schools like Princeton and Yale and Stanford--
     showed that only one out of five knew that the words 
     ``government of the people, by the people, for the people'' 
     came from the Gettysburg Address. Forty per cent did not know 
     that the Constitution established the division of power 
     between the states and the federal government. To the 
     question of who was the American general in command at 
     Yorktown, the most popular answer was Ulysses S. Grant.
       Now one cannot attribute this lack of knowledge solely to a 
     failure of colleges and universities. Indeed, the questions 
     asked on these surveys are the kinds of things we should 
     expect high school seniors to know. But surely a contributing 
     factor to the lack of knowledge highlighted by the survey is 
     that no one--not a single one--of the fifty-five elite 
     colleges and universities whose students were polled required 
     a course in American history.
       I have been concerned about lack of historical knowledge 
     for well over a decade, long enough so that I understand that 
     the institutional reforms that would help remedy the problem 
     are difficult to achieve. One important reason that American 
     history is not required is because if it were, faculty 
     members would have to teach it--and there is very little 
     professional incentive for them to do so. Advancement in 
     academia comes from publishing, and there is little market in 
     academic journals for articles on subjects that are broadly 
     conceived. What is wanted are specialized articles that are 
     compatible with teaching specialized courses. In not wanting 
     to take on general education, people in accordance are doing 
     what people in every profession tend to do: avoiding 
     activities for which there are few if any professional 
     incentives.
       Changing the reward system of higher education is likely to 
     take a very long time--and that's the optimistic view. So, 
     too, is it likely to take a long time for every state in the 
     union to put in place history standards--and the tests to 
     match them--that will ensure that youngsters in grade school, 
     middle school, and high school gain essential knowledge of 
     our nation's past. The fact that the improvement of 
     historical education in our schools and colleges and 
     universities won't happen overnight is no reason to quit the 
     struggle. I certainly intend to keep working on it--and 
     applauding the efforts of groups like the National 
     Association of Scholars and the American Council of Trustees 
     and Alumni that have spoken out forcefully in favor of well-
     rounded general education. But we should recognize that until 
     long-term efforts succeed, American history will remain 
     largely mysterious to many graduates of our finest 
     institutions. They will continue to place Ulysses S. Grant at 
     Yorktown--unless we come up with extracurricular ways to 
     encourage them to know the men and women and events and ideas 
     that have shaped this country.
       I began thinking about this when I read there were teach-
     ins on our campuses, not very well attended events, according 
     to what I've read--and little wonder. They fit an old 
     paradigm when this country was involved in a war with which 
     large numbers of Americans disagreed, in which many, rightly 
     or wrongly, thought vital American interests were not at 
     stake. None of that applies now. This is not a war in which 
     we get to choose whether or not to fight. Thousands of 
     Americans were killed on the very first day of conflict here 
     at home. We don't have the luxury of not getting involved.
       It's time for gatherings of a new kind, it seems to me, in 
     which we remind ourselves of exactly what it is we are 
     defending, in which we talk about exactly what it is we have 
     at stake. Let us talk to one another about freedom, asking, 
     perhaps as a start, why the founders--Jefferson and Madison, 
     in particular--were so determined that government would have 
     no role in determining how people worship. We might take the 
     Virginia Statute for Religious Freedom for our text. 
     Jefferson wrote it, Madison got it through the Virginia 
     legislature. In this remarkable time in which we live, any of 
     us can get it off the Internet and see that for Jefferson the 
     issue was not just religious freedom, but intellectual 
     freedom. ``Truth is great,'' he wrote, ``and will prevail if 
     left to herself. She is the proper and sufficient antagonist 
     to error, and has nothing to fear from the conflict, unless 
     by human interposition (she is) disarmed of her natural 
     weapons, free argument and debate. Let us engage in 
     conversations in which we explore how the clash of ideas has 
     benefitted this country and how the ability to follow a 
     thought wherever it may lead has brought the flourishing of 
     invention and business and art.
       We might also meet to talk about valor and use as one of 
     our resources the web site of the Congressional Medal of 
     Honor Society. There are so many stories of heroism on it, so 
     many stories of men throwing themselves on grenades or 
     exposing themselves to enemy fire in order to save those near 
     them. The honor roll of heroes is in the thousands now, but 
     reading through it is a reminder of the enormous sacrifices 
     that have been made for the sake of freedom. And listen to 
     just some of the names: John Ortega, Joshua Chamberlain, 
     Abraham Cohn, Daniel Inouye, Joseph Timothy O'Callahan, Joe 
     Nishimoto, Mitchell Red Cloud, Jr., Riley Pitts, Roy 
     Benavidez, Jack Jacobs, Gary Gordon, Randall Shughart. Our 
     liberty has depended on the valor of Americans whose 
     forebears came from every part of the world. Let us remember 
     their bravery with awe and talk about the inspiration we 
     should take from it, not just to be brave ourselves in the 
     much smaller ways our lives are likely to demand, but also to 
     recognize what they so heroically illustrated: that great 
     deeds are not the province of any particular race, creed, or 
     class. Let us talk about how our nation has grown better and 
     stronger as this realization has become ever more central to 
     our national life, and let us talk about the growing we still 
     have to do.
       I have been thinking of these gatherings as teach-ins for 
     freedom, but they needn't take place just on campuses. Public 
     libraries would be a good place for them--and so would homes. 
     Indeed, in their private lives millions of Americans have 
     shown their hunger to know more about our nation's history. 
     They buy Stephen Ambrose's books. They watch TV series like 
     the HBO production of Band of Brothers. Edmund Morris's 
     Theodore Rex is unlikely to make it onto many college or 
     university reading lists, but books of this kind and their 
     older equivalents--I think of Daniel Boorstin's The 
     Americans--can be entryways into our nation's past for young 
     adults as well as their parents.
       In the weeks since September 11, I've had some very well-
     credentialed, relatively recent college graduates confess to 
     me how little they know about American history. ``Is there a 
     `History for Dummies' book?'' one asked, half-jokingly. There 
     may well be, but my recommendation would be to start with 
     some of the thoughtful, well-written books that have received 
     wide acclaim. David McCullough's John Adams would be first on 
     my list for the amazing job McCullough does of simultaneously 
     conveying the significance of Adams' accomplishments and the 
     warmth of his humanity.
       As for the children, let us continue the efforts to improve 
     history instruction in our schools, but while we work on 
     that, let us also tell them the stories that might otherwise 
     go untold. At our Thanksgiving table we talked to our 
     grandchildren about the pilgrims and how hard it was to cross 
     the ocean to an unfamiliar land and how the difficulty of 
     their voyage was a measure of how much they wanted to worship 
     God as they chose and have their children grow up in a way 
     they thought was right. At our Christmas table, we will, to 
     be sure, talk about the baby born in Bethlehem and the angels 
     who sang and the shepherds and kings

[[Page E42]]

     who came to visit him. But we will also remember George 
     Washington and how, on a dark December 25th he led his 
     improbable army across an ice-choked river to give a people 
     struggling for independence hope that they might one day be 
     free.
       Thank you very much, Professor George, for having me here 
     this afternoon. James Madison told us, in words that I 
     understand are now inscribed in Corwin Hall, that a well-
     instructed people alone can be permanently a free people. The 
     gatherings you have here at Princeton under the auspices of 
     the James Madison Program in American Ideals and Institutions 
     contribute to our instruction--and to our freedom.

     

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