Tour of Gettysburg
Earlier this month, the Renew Democracy Initiative organized a private tour of the battlefield of Gettysburg, thanks to the generosity of retired four-star general and member of our advisory board, Stan McChrystal. I was accompanied by various supporters of RDI and members of the extended RDI family, as well as a member of my own family, my daughter Aida, an avid history buff. We couldn’t have asked for a more knowledgeable and eminently qualified guide than General McChrystal.
(If you are interested in his thoughts on leadership, I recently recorded the first episode of RDI’s Whiskey Tango video series, a series of in-depth conversations with experts on issues of freedom and democracy. Stanley and I dive into what it means to be a real leader, steering from a place of values rather than the transactional pursuit of power. Watch a teaser here.)
What I want to capture here, however, are not any specific facts from the exemplary history we received, but a few more general observations on the progress of history overall. It’s one thing to read about events like this, or listen to a classroom lecture; it’s entirely another to stand in the physical place, your feet on the ground where the most important battle in American history was fought. It is reminder of how contemporary history is; how where we find ourselves today is a function of moments like Gettysburg, and myriad less obvious ones; how easily events could have taken another turn. Even a partial victory for Lee at Gettysburg would have made Lincoln’s position untenable; it could have made the political pressure to reach a deal with the Confederacy insurmountable. Somehow, Providence helped us; the future of the American republic was preserved. Had the outcome been different, we might not be living in the country we are living in today. I might not have had the example of America to look to growing up in the former USSR, might not be writing today as the chairman of an organization protecting democracy worldwide.
Gettysburg is a word that conjures a rich series of events, not one discrete moment. Zeroing in on just one of the encounters that made up this pivotal battle: Chamberlain’s charge. It is well-known but perhaps not quite as famous as some other moments (although it is immortalized in the wonderful film Gettysburg, if you are curious). Thanks to his leadership, the 20th Maine held its position against the 15th of Alabama, fending off waves of Confederate soldiers, even as their ammunition ran out. Without this valiant effort, the entire left flank of the Union army would have been in jeopardy, and the South’s attack on day three might have succeeded. Standing with Aida on the very spot where the 20th Maine stood fast gave us both chills.
Speaking now about the present—the war we are fighting now, in the international arena, in which the future of democracy hangs in the balance. Unfortunately, there are no positive updates. Everything has long been clear with Trump; he has again indicated that he would sign a deal with Putin, with whom he boasts of having a great relationship. But Biden also seems unwilling (or, excuse my joke, unable) to cross the finish line of the support effort he started; President Zelensky left the UN General Assembly without American permission to use long-range missiles against Russian targets. This failure is especially poignant to me having just returned from the tour I described. I hope we can think of ourselves as playing a role in a history that will be recounted, and relived, in the future, and of our actions as playing a pivotal role in the type of world our children will inhabit.
(As a bonus, the relevant scene of Chamberlain’s Charge from the great 1993 movie, Gettysburg.)