In Cultus Americanus, Brent Gilchrist provides an intellectually challenging account of American political culture. In so doing, Gilchrist staunchly defends the notion of a liberal consensus in American political life. However, this is not merely a restatement of Louis Hartz's rightly famous theory. Instead, we are offered a nuanced and thoughtful analysis of how American culture delineates a “matrix” that reflects the interaction of myth, religion, and ideology. The author goes to great lengths to demarcate the differences and connections among these rich and powerful concepts. In the process, he does an admirable job articulating a fundamental liberalism that is at work in America. Thus, he offers a powerful development of the Hartz thesis and takes on those critics who see that theory as fraught with failings. Indeed, Rogers Smith's Civic Ideals (1997) and Cultus Americanus provide the materials for a high-minded debate about how American politics was shaped in the past and how our history continues to shape the present. This book will be of interest to those interested in American political history and thought, religion, and politics, as well as to theorists in general.
Gilchrist opens his book with a discussion of the liberal consensus and its critics. At its base, this debate concerns the question of diversity. Is the United States a country that reflects a fundamental diversity in its culture—a reflection of its rich and controversial history of expansive immigration, slavery, and its treatment of indigenous people? If this is the case, that diversity is the hallmark of American life, then how has that shaped its politics and self-understanding? For critics on this side of the discussion this usually means that Americans' exceptionalism is a facile and unhelpful way to approach politics, because such approaches tend to minimize diversity and place Americans in a kind of political and philosophic straightjacket that hides us from ourselves. Furthermore, such theories tend to downplay racism and discrimination as significant factors in our history. On the other side of the debate are those who see a great deal of agreement about certain central questions, admire the way new groups are integrated into a culture, and admire how America, in so many ways, looks quite different from other modern democracies. Yet, in defending the notion of a consensus, those who champion the ideal have opened themselves to withering critiques, as various exceptions and unexplainable events intrude upon the consensus theory.
Gilchrist seeks to refurbish the older consensus theory by recognizing that diversity exists; however, “that American diversity does not entail contradictory belief systems” (p. 2). Instead, diversity is at the surface and “American culture can be seen as a complex but unified structure that contains internal diversities within a single universe of Americanism” (p. 2). To appreciate this, we need a renewed and deeper understanding of what political culture means. To gain that we need to acknowledge that culture is a reflection of the interaction of myth, religion, and ideology. Each of these distinct forces work together (sometimes contentiously work) to create a culture that harmonizes what it means to be an American.
To get to this point, Gilchrist writes a dense and philosophically rich chapter heavily influenced by Ernest Cassier. Cassier's notion of man as a “symbolic animal” provides a starting place to think about how diversity may reflect a union of people who use and understand those symbols and as such create a culture that forms both individuals and societies. Gilchrist first works to explain what myths mean. Myths are symbols that emerge out of common experiences and articulate higher truths that are timeless and ahistorical. Thus, the mythic America is revealed when Washington becomes Moses and the 13 colonies are seen as the 13 tribes of Israel. The mythic is seen in concepts like Manifest Destiny and the West. However, the mythic is not enough and it necessarily leads to the religious. Religion proves a deeper argument about “the meaning of man, society, and the political” (p. 29). Yet, the mythic remains as part of the “unseen social fabric” (p. 26). However, these two ideals need and nurture each other. Finally, ideology emerges as politics moves to center stage and there is a need to explain important political concepts to a mass of people in some rational form. Ideology is not philosophy but a set of ideas that can easily be communicated to a broad range of citizens. After laying out these ideas and showing how they interact, persist, and shape each other to create a common culture, Gilchrist spends the bulk of the book showing how this process works in America.
This is a rich and thoughtful book, and it adds greatly to the scholarly debate about culture and America. Yet, there are some weaker aspects to the text. Gilchrist certainly provides concrete historical examples to illustrate his points; yet, he often seems more intent on jousting with other political scientists and historians. One would have preferred more examples to show how his theory explains actual history and a bit less critiquing of rivals. Second, his argument about the fundamental consensus in American politics runs into its biggest challenge with regards to the North-South divide that led to the Civil War. Gilchrist does an admirable job showing how John C. Calhoun and others really represent a liberalism that was, at some level, at one with Northern political views. Yet, it does beg the question: If such a basic agreement can lead to slavery in one part of the nation, does a cultural consensus exist? I do not want to dismiss Gilchrist's argument out of hand, but this is a point that his critics may seize upon.
When read in its entirety, Cultus Americanus represents an impressive effort to revitalize the idea of the liberal consensus and a nuanced and subtle essay about the meaning and importance of political culture.