My parents taught me to be polite, which has always been a handicap. It didn’t take long to discover that politeness is a losing strategy and that the loudest and most boorish voice in the room always wins. A polite person wears an invisible strait jacket, and is inhibited from doing all sorts of effective, self-promoting things, like yelling, bullying, insulting, and boasting. Unfortunately, these are essential tools for success in the modern world. Be polite, and you might as well carry a sign saying, "Go ahead, walk all over me."
This unfortunate upbringing may explain my nostalgia for what I believe to have been a more civilized age when politeness actually paid off. George Washington, for example, whose name should be on our minds this President’s Day, was determined from an early age to set a good example. David McCullough, in his splendid history Seventeen Seventy-Six, tells us that Washington was described by his contemporaries as brave, dignified, generous, amiable, modest, gracious, and hospitable. We can never really know a historical figure of course, especially one so surrounded by legend.
But when he was only 16, Washington wrote out a set of a hundred and ten “Rules for Civility and Decent Behavior,” which we can still consult with profit today. They are published in a slim, pocket-sized volume, and I have a copy right here. I’ll read a few of his rules. The language is old-fashioned, but the meaning is clear enough.
Every action taken by the company ought to show respect to those who are present. Show oneself not glad at the misfortune of another, even if he be an enemy. Mock not or jest at anything of importance. Use no reproachful language against anyone. Let your conversation be without malice or envy. While you are talking, point not with your finger. Undertake not what you cannot perform, but be sure to keep your promises. Last but not least: “Be courteous to all.”
And, of course, we all know that if and when he cut down his father’s prized cherry tree, Washington could not tell a lie.
The first president may not have obeyed all of his hundred and ten rules all the time – no politician could. However, the gentlemen of 1776 were “gentlemen” in the old-fashioned sense with elaborate codes of politeness that were seen not as a weakness but as the necessary glue that held civilization together.
Washington managed to be a commanding figure while remaining endearingly modest. This was a politically turbulent and violent time, and passions ran high. After the Revolutionary War, some members of Congress urged Washington to declare himself a king, which he angrily refused. The arbitrary rule of one man was exactly the system that America had been fighting against since 1776.
This may explain my perhaps naïve nostalgia for the eighteenth century when modesty, thoughtfulness, and civility were to be found even in the most powerful men in the land, at least some of the time. It’s ancient history, I know, and it’s an equally ancient cliché that history repeats itself. Sometimes, you wish it would.
