The Whites of Their Eyes, writes Jill Lepore in closing the prologue of her provocative new work, provides “an argument against historical fundamentalism” (19). Her primary target is the Tea Party movement; her assault on their presentation of early American history and politics is determined, unreserved and, for the most part, highly engaging.
Defining the Tea Partiers' interpretation of the founding era as “broadly anti-intellectual and, quite specifically, antihistorical,” Lepore seeks both to illustrate their distortion of the period and to challenge the persistence of originalism more generally (16). In researching the current conservative movement, she has spent time among its adherents. Discussing the development of the Tea Party since President Obama's election, much of the book thus draws on Lepore's experience in their company, recounting the characters and opinions voiced at local meetings and rallies. However, her interest lies in considering the manner in which these views misrepresent the vision and experience of the founding fathers on whose words the Tea Party claim to base their political arguments. With Boston as her focal point, the author therefore considers the history of the Revolution in tandem with the Tea Partiers' invocation of it. Emphasizing, though, that the far right today are only the latest group to misremember history in accusing the government of straying from the founders' intent, Lepore reminds us of those on the left who offered an alternative adaptation during the Bicentennial of the Revolution in the 1970s. Focussing on “three stories at once,” she explains, allows us “to see what's remembered and what's forgotten, what's kept and what's lost” (18).
There is much to admire in her handling of these interwoven strands; a well-trodden topic of study – the veneration of the founding fathers, the distortion and debate provoked by those who claim knowledge of their intent – feels, in Lepore's hands, fresh and relevant. Perhaps the greatest strength of the book is her writing. Recognizing the criticism of historians reluctant “to write for general readers,” she has a wider audience in mind. With an easy wit and an engaging tone, her narrative flows along, skilfully weaving together contemporary interviews and historical anecdotes. Indeed, it is the innovation of her literary approach that serves to offset the familiarity of her comments concerning the “worship” and misuse of the founders' legacy and their own fears of this circumstance.
Nevertheless, it would be difficult to read The Whites of Their Eyes without reservations regarding its resolute dismissal of the Tea Party's rhetoric. On the one hand, weaker arguments do creep into Lepore's otherwise robust assault. At times the recounted episodes from the Revolution appear tangential, the relevance of those chosen not always clear beyond reiterating the obvious social and ideological distance between the founding and the present day. In an effort to undermine the Tea Party's call for a return to the values of the early republic, for example, Lepore describes the appalling hardship and treatment endured by the family of Benjamin Franklin's sister. She concludes, “I don't want to go back to that” (50).
More problematic, though, is the danger that, by focussing on the ignorance of the Tea Party while dismissing originalism (outside the courts) as “historical fundamentalism,” Lepore underplays the influence of both. Abrasive to many of us, the arguments of the Tea Party nevertheless reflect the reliance of America's rhetoric of political identity and purpose on the opaque intentions of the founding fathers. Had The Whites of Their Eyes probed more deeply the reasons for this dependence, the reader could better reflect, as its best passages encourage us to do, on the evolution of public memory and the enduring character of American political discourse.
