There are those who are under the impression that the only revolution that occurred in the United States was that of 1776. I submit that there have, indeed, been three germinal revolutions in the span of time that has seen the rise of the American Republic. One revolution, certainly the most recognized, brought forth our independence from the British Empire. A second revolution of far greater devastation to the young nation occurred late in the next century. Finally, a third century and a third revolution - though seldom thought of as such - while less physically destructive than its predecessors shook the conscience of America to its core and spawned dramatic societal changes that reverberate even today. Just as the passage of time cools both rage and love, it has effected its unique alchemy on this nation we now call American. From a volatile, amorphous and thoroughly unstable gas (1776), condensing into to a flowing river searching for its true and steady course (1861) to a firm and formidable solid (1960 to present), our country has been transformed and refined over the past 3 centuries. Not in a Krakatoan cataclysm but in a gradual, slow metamorphosis - not to say without the occasional crisis - but more as the result of a perpetual sandstorm, eroding and reshaping our foundations to our present state.

Each of these revolutions mark fundamental steps toward nationhood and give us a heritage of which we can be proud. On the other hand, they illuminate what can only be described as a trend of American society. We were conceived in revolution and, when the cultural and political ferment appears to be sufficiently malfunctioning, we historically - almost at predictable intervals - have harkened back to our germinal nature: revolt. It is the purpose of this discourse to compare and contrast the nature of these three American revolutions with a view that they had much in common and, perhaps more ominously, one could easily see such discontent arising, yet again, at some future time.

The American revolt against the British Empire and its control of the domestic affairs of the colonies began many seeds. The least, though historically most famous - "No taxation without representation" - was merely a catchy rallying cry at the final hour of rebellion. In truth, the rebellion was, at its essence, a thoroughly populist movement. Taxation was merely the issue that a launched - like a christening bottle of champaign - a ship of independence that had been built over many years and by many hands.

Philosophically, the tap root of the tree of liberty has been the "Age of Enlightenment" and , primarily, through the writings of Jean-Jacques Rousseau and Montesquieu though we can give a nod, also, John Locke and a few others. In fact, the American Revolution can be thought of as an amalgam between the utopian, socialist "The Social Contract" of Rousseau and the more conservative, the structured "The Spirit of the Laws" of Montesquieu and the David Hume’s "The History of England." To say that the "movers and shakers" of early revolutionary thought in America were keenly aware of these grand European philosophers would be a gross understatement. Their writings set the minds of the colonies a thinking.

The prime, underlying ripples of revolutionary thought in America were more based on the idea that, while the colonies were thoroughly English, they were not true beneficiaries of British citizenship. This was, for 150 years, perfectly acceptable to the settlers of the new continent. They were, after all, benignly neglected by the realm and were allowed to manage their own affairs and conduct their own affairs - legal, legislative, and religious - at their own hands. This all changed with the French and Indian Wars (1754-1763). England asserted more of its presence and, with that, more of its authority in the colonies during the course of that conflict. Though it was a war between the perpetual European enemies - England and France - the colonists found themselves not just defending themselves from the French and their Indian allies but also losing their autonomy to their English overlords.

Once the war ended, Britain’s (nor the French) didn’t simply "go away." The colonies were never allowed to return to their earlier bliss of self-rule. Through some rather tedious and foolhardy decisions by King George III’s minister, Lord North and Parliament, the settlers were increasing "put upon" by the England’s tinkering with the affairs once solely in the hands of the frontiersmen. King George was advised that, since the war was for the defense of the colonies, the colonies should bear the brunt of their expense. The colonist began to realize that the English fought not to save the lives and property of their subjects but to protect the lucrative trade between North America and the British Empire. And, of course, to have another jolly good scrap with the French (the Seven Years War). The colonist came to feel that they had done their fair share of the fighting (and dying) for the Crown’s interests and owed no debt over and above their own efforts. Thus, were the seeds fo Liberty sown.

With the progressive insertion of a formal British presence in the colonies and the demand from the Crown of a series of taxes and import duties, the once content frontiersmen began to awaken. Through the rabble-rousing of Samuel Adams working through the common man and the aristocratic elements early led by John Hancock, the pebble was first thrown into the quiet pond of the colonies, The ripples it was to cause were far reaching and did not, as physical law normally dictates, degrade. Instead, the ripples became wavelets disturbing the peaceful shores of such faraway locales as Monticello, VA and Quincy. MA. And, they disturbed an American giant - both in stature and importance - at distant Mount Vernon. The peaceful contentment that had made the American colonies compliant to God, King and England began to stir. And the stirring was to be felt across the Atlantic to the halls of Kings and the chambers of the Parliaments.

The view held by Lord North and "the King’s Friends" who held the King’s ear kept whispering: "This is no threat, Your Majesty. They are but common hoodlums. You must maintain and assert your authority" All the while, the hoodlums became increasingly belligerent. The unmovable mountain was rising to meet the irresistible force. Quasi-legal and ill-informed measures (beginning with the Stamp Act in 1765 and terminating with the occupation of Boston and closing of its port in 1774 - part of the "Intolerable Acts") followed, one upon the other, each hardening the will of the people toward revolt. As logs laid upon smoldering embers, they did not dowse the fire but turned it into an inferno and fueled the will to full rebellion. When General Gage sent out the fateful 600 troops to arrest Sam Adams and John Hancock in April, 1775, the die was quickly cast. Muskets discharged at Lexington and Concord and the war, simmering so long in the caldron of American consciousness, reached a full, roiling boil. Patrick Henry, so much more the thespian than the politician, spoke for the nation when, before the Virginia House of Burgesses, he said:

After 8 grueling and tenuous years, Washington’s forces and Lafayette’s French allies cornered Lord Cornwallis at Yorktown, the end of the long struggle seemed near. When Admiral De Grasse defeated the British fleet intending to reinforce Cornwallis from New York, the sun arose on a new country. But, even after the formal cessation of hostilities signaled by the Treaty of Paris in 1783, the curtain was drawn on what was only the first act in the drama of the birth of the new country. The most difficult task - uniting the 13 disparate colonies into a true nation - would be the true test of American creativity.

The forces that faced off to fight in the political war for nationhood were as formidable as those Washington ever had confronted in the martial first act of the drama. On the side of a national constitution to supercede the weak Articles of Confederation were arrayed James Madison, Andrew Hamilton, Gouverneur Morris, Benjamin Franklin and, the omnipresent George Washington who served as President of the Convention. As imposing as this weaponry might appear, two of the larger cannoneers were absent - Thomas Jefferson and John Adams, off on ambassadorships to France and England, respectively. These intellectual strategists would be sorely missed.

Opposing the national charter were men of equal intellectual and persuasive talents if, because they were in opposition, are not as widely known to our current memories. That does not detract from their influence and rhetorical skills. From Virginia, alone, there were George Mason, Edmund Randolph (the first U.S. Attorney General and, later, Secretary of State) and George Wythe. Among the descriptors one could attach to the formidable Wythe are: the first professor of law in the colonies (William and Mary College), widely hailed as the "Father of American Jurisprudence," instructor to James Madison and John Marshall and the man Jefferson called "his second father." From Massachusetts, Elbridge Gerry, a future Vice-President (ironically, under Madison’s Presidency). And, though not among the delegates at the Constitutional Convention, there was the political colossus Patrick Henry. He would play a major role in the fight (at least in Virginia) in fighting against the Constitution’s approval.

The fateful 9 months that elapsed between the signing (September 17, 1987) and the ratification by the required 9 of the 13 colonies (June 21, 1788) could be easily viewed as the most critical period in the formation of the new nation. The final battlefields were the legislatures of the 13 colonies and the fighting was to be, in the largest and most influential states (Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, New York and Virginia) contentious and vociferous. Long-standing friendships would dissolve and enemies for life would be born.

The campaign of Robert Yates was among the most valiant. Known to few today, he authored no less than sixteen "Anti-Federalist" papers under the pseudonym "Brutus" that were influential (especially in New York) and are often referred to, even today, by Constitutional scholars. He, like other opponents of the original Constitution, demanded a Bill of Rights of the new Government. Yates - "Brutus" - argued thus:

"I might proceed to instance a number of other rights, which were as necessary to be reserved, such as, that elections should be free, that the liberty of the press should be held sacred; but the instances adduced are sufficient to prove that this argument is without foundation. Besides, it is evident that the reason here assigned was not the true one, why the framers of this Constitution omitted a bill of rights; if it had been, they would not have made certain reservations, while they totally omitted others of more importance. We find they have, in the ninth section of the first article declared, that the writ of habeas corpus shall not be suspended, unless in cases of rebellion, that no bill of attainder, or ex post facto law, shall be passed, that no title of nobility shall be granted by the United States, etc. If every thing which is not given is reserved, what propriety is there in these exceptions? Does this Constitution any where grant the power of suspending the habeas corpus, to make ex post facto laws, pass bills of attainder, or grant titles of nobility? It certainly does not in express terms. The only answer that can be given is, that these are implied in the general powers granted. With equal truth it may be said, that all the powers which the bills of rights guard against the abuse of, are contained or implied in the general ones granted by this Constitution."

Similarly, In Massachusetts, disaster was averted by compromise:

""In Massachusetts, the Constitution ran into serious, organized opposition. Only after two leading anti-Federalists, Adams and Hancock, negotiated a far-reaching compromise did the convention vote for ratification on February 6, 1788 (187–168). Anti-Federalists had demanded that the Constitution be amended before they would consider it or that amendments be a condition of ratification; Federalists had retorted that it had to be accepted or rejected as it was. Under the Massachusetts compromise, the delegates recommended amendments to be considered by the new Congress, should the Constitution go into effect. The Massachusetts compromise determined the fate of the Constitution, as it permitted delegates with doubts to vote for it in the hope that it would be amended."

Perhaps, given the stature and intellect of those doing battle, Virginia’s House of Burgesses was the most contentious. Books have been written about the debates and maneuvering in that one assembly. After all, we pit James Madison versus Patrick Henry! Who would not subscribe to that on a Pay Per View? Patrick Henry, anti-Federalist to his dying days said:

"Is it necessary for your liberty that you should abandon those great rights by the adoption of this system? Is the relinquishment of the trial by jury and the liberty of the press necessary for your liberty? Will the abandonment of your most sacred rights tend to the security of your liberty? Liberty, the greatest of all earthly blessings—give us that precious jewel, and you may take every thing else!"

Most fail to appreciate in these busy times and important questions ("Did Paris Hilton Deserve Jail?" and "When does the next American Idol start?") that, when the final voting in the state legislatures took place, our ephemeral confederation of colonies was but a breath away from complete dissolution. The vote in Massachusetts, the very birthplace of the patriotism was only Yay: 187, Nay: 168. In New York, it was even closer: Yay: 30, Nay: 27. In Virginia, the state to become the "Birthplace of President," the diminutive, soft-spoken, little man in black, James Madison, defeated the great Patrick Henry, but only by a hair’s breadth. The vote was Yay: 89, Nay: 79. The Constitution - and the nation - was, at long last, a reality. [A full listing of the votes can be seen below.]

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The first revolution of these United States had been fought on any fronts. It was won with talents that were to become reliable and dependable touchstones for those wise Americans in future generations to call up in the trying times to come, Namely, they are a keen and deep sense of history and the lessons it can offer, a penchant for gradual as opposed to rapid change, compromise (not of ideals but of the means to achieve those ideals) and the respect for dissent and a respectful exchange of views . The last, I think, being the one that has been missed most in our newest century.

In the next installment of this series, I will discuss America’s "second revolution." Left to ferment upon completion of the first revolution, it would prove to be very nearly a tragic end to the dream of America so dearly bought by the Founding Fathers and their forgotten band of brothers. Again, this rebellion will challenge our ideals and rely on wise leaders and our national determination to resolve. But, after the tumult subsided, the country will find an even loftier sense of nationhood and will rise from the mist to become a leader of the world.

The Founding Fathers and lesser known patriots who "gave the last full measure of their devotion" to independence would have smiled when we overcame our next great trial.