Pearl Harbor
December 13, 2016
Dear Grandchildren,
I was speaking to Allen a few days ago when he reminded me that on December 7th we marked the 75th anniversary of the 1941 Japanese attack on the US Pacific Fleet lying in anchor at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, which blasted the US into World War II, and that the next day, Allen’s birthday, John Glenn had died. Colonel Glenn, a US Marine, was a fighter pilot in WWII and the Korean War, but it was his role as the first American astronaut to orbit the earth in 1962 that won him fame, eclipsing his later career as Senator from Ohio. “He gave us back our national respect,” said an astute observer, referring to our space race with the Soviet Union.
We talked about American history and the importance of Pearl Harbor and John Glenn. He asked if I’d write something about the events “for the grandchildren.” It seemed a good idea because what it means to bear the title “American” has been much on my mind during the Presidential campaign and election. Apart from the results, it was nasty, selfish, deceitful, and manipulative. I kept asking myself: When will a candidate appeal to our history and our traditions? Where is their respect for us as citizens, and for themselves as inheritors of the traditions of Washington, Jefferson, Adams, and Lincoln? I felt ashamed to be an American. We are due better.
Pearl Harbor and John Glenn are linked because both speak of the US military, which I hold in highest esteem, on par with the Supreme Court, as a custodian of American values.
There can be no greater call to patriotism than the opportunity to serve in the US military. I served. It is one of the best things I’ve done, second only to marrying your grandmother. But this is not about me. This is about America.
In 1962, three weeks before I graduated from medical school, General Douglas MacArthur delivered his historic “Duty, Honor, Country” speech to the graduating class at the US Military Academy. I heard it on the radio. He was a gifted orator. The phrase stuck with me as a code of conduct worthy of obedience. I recommend it to you.
Duty. Duty is what you must do—what you are morally bound to do. The President, the military, federal and state officials, and new citizens swear an oath “…to support and defend the Constitution of the United States….” By your birth as a US citizen, you inherit the same duty. You need no oath; it’s written in your blood.
This has deep historical importance. We owe duty to a set of ideas, which are framed as our Constitution. This is a radical idea. During the American Revolution Thomas Paine captured it in this memorable phrase, “We have it in our power to begin the world over again.” And we did. We were the first nation so founded. And we endure beyond the rise and fall of empires. You know those ideas. Foremost among them are freedom of speech and freedom of religion. But beyond such broad obligations, duty lives with us daily, on a personal scale. For example, you have a duty to your fellow citizens—a duty to “love thy neighbor.” Duty is the impetus to every act of heroism. When have you known a courageous person to say anything other than “I did what I had to do.”
Honor. Honor is a badge of respect, hard to win, easy to lose. Gifted to you by your countrymen and forebears, it is privileged admission to a circle of the principled who adhere to a simple code: do the right thing. It is a resilient force that will sustain you in difficulty. Nevertheless, honor is fragile, easily tarnished or lost. Sustain it always. Guard it carefully.
Country. We invented and enshrined in our Constitution the idea of human liberty. The safest place for liberty is in the hands of the American people. To be an American is the loftiest of honors. It means something. It means everything. Don’t forget it.
I love you,
English