While the teabaggers seek to claim the mantle of the patriots who founded our nation, you really have to wonder how well they even understand the history they're trying to emulate. The Boston Tea Party, after all, was the culmination -- not the beginning -- of a broad, national resistance movement, and its success rested not just on the national links that had been forged over the previous eight years of political organizing but also on Britain's heavy-handed response to the patriots' act of civil disobedience.
A closer historical parallel to the teabag movement might be found in the 1794 Whiskey Rebellion, a back-country revolt against the George Washington presidency that resulted in two ring-leaders convicted(and subsequently pardoned) of treason against the United States. Even that comparison, though, might be stretching it, because the whiskey rebels at least had a good cause for their outrage.
Perhaps the best description of the teabaggers is Jon Stewart's: sore losers.
Join me on the flip for some background on the history...
The Boston Tea Party
The Boston Tea Party (December 16, 1773) was a public act of defiance against the 1773 Tea Act. While most of us, dimly remembering middle school civics or high school history classes, tend to think Tea Act increased taxes on tea, in point of fact its actual effect would have been to lower the tax, and the price, consumers had to pay for tea. Considering most colonists at the time were confirmed tea addicts, that should have been a good thing. That people got mad instead shows just how profound a crisis had already developed between the British government and its American subjects.
The back story here goes all the way back to the Seven Years War (1754-1763), better known in US history as the French and Indian War. The American colonies had hung back on supporting the British war against the French until William Pitt took control in 1857. One of Pitt's key contributions to the war effort was his promise to the colonial governments that Britain itself would assume all the costs of the fighting. With that promise, colonial assemblies happily appropriated funds to raise soldiers and provide them with uniforms, weapons, training, transport and food; Pitt dutifully paid back the colonial outlays with direct subsidies from the British exchequer. American troops, under the leadership of able British generals, turned the tide of war -- by 1759, the combined British-colonial army had defeated the French at the Battle of Quebec and the Seven Years War in North America effectively came to an end.
The problems developed after the British victory over the French. In the 1760s, the British government found itself severely in debt as a result of its victory in the war. Pitt had been forced out of the government in 1761, and the new ministry felt no reason to be bound by his promise to the colonies to pay for the war. In 1764, a tax was imposed on sugar. Colonists grumbled, but because the tax was indirect little actual protest occurred.
The 1765 Stamp Act, however, was different. A direct tax on consumers of a wide variety of products in daily common use (including notarial documents, newsprint, playing cards, dice, apprenticeship contracts, etc.), colonists viewed it as a direct repudiation of Pitt's promise to pay for the Seven Years War. The reaction was vehement and immediate. While merchants called for boycotts and peaceful protests, other folks took to the streets. In Boston, day laborers from the North and South Ends not only hung the stamp collector in effigy, but they paraded it all the way up to his house. Upon being called upon by the sheriff to disperse, they:
fell upon the Stamp Masters dweling house broke glass Casements & all; also broke open the doars enterd the house & bespoil'd good part of the house & furniture, braking the looking glasses which some said was a pitty, the answer was that if they would not bare staming they was good for nothing. the Coach & booby-hutt were drag'd up the Hill & would have been stamp'd & burnt had not some Gentlemen Oppos'd it & with much difficulty they prevented it. they continued their fire till about 11 oClock then Retired. I beleve people never was more Univassally [illegible] pleasd not so much as one could I hear say he was sorry, but a smile sat on almost every ones countinance
In New York City, similar events took place:
2000 people attended at the Coffee House, among them most of the principal men in town - The Culprits apologies did not satisfy the people, they were highly blamed and the Sons of Liberty found it necessary to use their influence to moderate the Resentment of the People. Two men were dispatched to the Collector for the Stamped Bonds of which he had 30 in all, he desired Liberty to confer with the Governor, which was granted. The Governor sent Word, if the Stamps were delivered to him, he would give his word and honor they should not be used; but if people were not satisfied with this, they might do as they pleased with them - The message being returned to the gathering multitude, they would not agree to the Governors proposal, but insist upon the Stamps being delivered and burned, one or two men attended by about a thousand others were then sent for the Stamps, which were brought to the Coffee House, and the Merchant who had used them was ordered himself to kindle the fire and consume them, those filled in and all, this was accordingly done amidst the Huzza's of the people who were by this time swelled to the Number one suppose of about 5000, and in another hour I suppose would have been 10,000 - The people pretty quietly dispersed soon After, but their Resentment was not allayed, Toward the evening . . . tho' the Son of Liberty exerted themselves to the utmost , they could not prevent the gathering of the Multitude, Who went to Mr. Williams house, broke open the door and destroyed some furniture . . .
These riots, and others like them, galvanized American public opinion and set off a decade of concerted political opposition to British taxation. Americans, already huge consumers of British manufactured goods, used the power of the purse to make known their discontent and to attempt to effect a change in British policy. The British responded with new taxes -- the 1767 Townshend Duties -- and the colonists redoubled their boycotts. (Li'l litho the other day brought home a list of things we would have to boycott to have a similar impact on our lives, and it included things like soap, soda, bicycles, french fries, and a whole lot more.) The boycott on tea began in response to the Townshend Duties in 1767, and was still being respected when the Tea Act was imposed six years later.
In fact, the Tea Act was conceived of -- and understood by the American colonists as -- an attempt to break the tea boycott. It not only lowered the effective tax on tea, but it also allowed the East India Company to market tea directly to consumers -- eliminating the local merchant middlemen the company previously had to use. The Ministry's intent was to demonstrate the principle that Americans could and should pay taxes; the patriots response was quite clearly they would pay no taxes which they had not levied themselves.
The Boston Tea Party became historically significant not so much because of what Sam Adams's boys did that night in December 1773. Compare this account by George Hewes, who participated in the Tea Party, with the first-hand accounts of the Stamp Act riots cited above:
It was now evening, and I immediately dressed myself in the costume of an Indian, equipped with a small hatchet, which I and my associates denominated the tomahawk, with which, and a club, after having painted my face and hands with coal dust in the shop of a blacksmith, I repaired to Griffins wharf, where the ships lay that contained the tea. When I first appeared in the street, after being thus disguised, I fell in with many who were dressed, equipped and painted as I was, and who fell in with me, and marched in order to the place of our destination. When we arrived at the wharf, there were three of our number who assumed an authority to direct our operations, to which we readily submitted. They divided us into three parties, for the purpose of boarding the three ships which contained the tea at the same time. The name of him who commanded the division to which I was assigned, was Leonard Pitt. The names of the other commanders I never knew. We were immediately ordered by the respective commanders to board all the ships at the same time, which we promptly obeyed. The commander of the division to which I belonged, as soon as we were on board the ship, appointed me boatswain, and ordered me to go to the captain and demand of him the keys to the hatches and a dozen candles. I made the demand accordingly, and the captain promptly replied, and delivered the articles; but requested me at the same time to do no damage to the ship or rigging. We then were ordered by our commander to open the hatches, and take out all the chests of tea and throw them overboard, and we immediately proceeded to execute his orders; first cutting and splitting the chests with our tomahawks, so as thoroughly to expose them to the effects of the water. In about three hours from the time we went on board, we had thus broken and thrown overboard every tea chest to be found in the ship; while those in the other ships were disposing of the tea in the same way, at the same time. We were surrounded by British armed ships, but no attempt was made to resist us. We then quietly retired to our several places of residence, without having any conversation with each other, or taking any measures to discover who were our associates; nor do I recollect of our having had the knowledge of the name of a single individual concerned in that affair, except that of Leonard Pitt, the commander of my division, who I have mentioned. There appeared to be an understanding that each individual should volunteer his services, keep his own secret, and risk the consequences for himself. No disorder took place during that transaction, and it was observed at that time, that the stillest night ensued that Boston had enjoyed for many months.
Hewes goes on to recount the only acts of violence committed during the protest, which were directed at two common citizens who were trying to take some tea home for themselves (that is, they were trying to break the boycott). One was thrown into the harbor himself, and both had to run a gantlet of kicks and blows.
The real impact of the Boston Tea Party came from the heavy-handed British reaction to the deed. Britain's Ministers, enraged at the colonists' act of defiance, enacted the so-called Intolerable Acts, a series of repressive measures designed to force Boston to pay for the tea tossed into the harbor and to force the colonists in general to lift their boycotts on British goods. These acts were hated by the colonists, and they led to a wide mobilization throughout the colonies. Patrick Henry in Virginia, for example, gave his "Give me liberty, or give me death" speech in response to the Intolerable Acts, nearly a month before the first shots of the Revolution were fired at Lexington and Concord and a full year before Tom Paine wrote Common Sense, which itself was the first time anyone seriously proposed the patriot movement should lead to the independence of the North American colonies.
The Boston Tea Party was an important event, a turning point in a national movement which had already accomplished a great deal. It came at a high point in an existing political conflict, one which had matured almost to the point of a total break for independence.
The Whiskey Rebellion
Like the Stamp Act Crisis (and its sequel, the Boston Tea Party), the Whiskey Rebellion had its origins in debts incurred during a previous war. In this case, the war was the American Revolution itself, and the debts which needed to be repaid were the millions of dollars in war bonds the Continental Congress had issued to finance the war. Financing the war debt had caused states to raise taxes, to the point that (sub. req.):
The portion of Massachusetts farmers' income consumed by taxation was four to five times higher in 1786 than it had been in the average year of British rule.
The resulting political controversies, including the bloody Shays's Rebellion in Massachusetts in 1787, contributed to the drive to scrap the Articles of Confederation and write a brand-new federal Constitution for the United States.
With the Constitution in force and General Washington installed as the first president, newly-minted Secretary of the Treasury Alexander Hamilton faced the issue of what to do with about Revolutionary War bondholders. Now, many of these bonds had gone to soldiers in the Army in lieu of salary, and believing them worthless the soldiers had sold them to speculators for pennies on the dollar. The question facing Hamilton was whether to redeem the bonds for their face value, or to purchase them from their holders at whatever price the market had established. (Hmmm. Echoes of the current financial crisis there...)
Hamilton wanted to transform the United States from a rural, agrarian economy into an urban, industrial one. To do that, he knew the country needed roads and bridges and other essential infrastructure to get raw materials to manufacturers and from manufacturers to market, and to build that infrastructure he felt the United States needed a functioning and effective financial industry. To get the financial industry established and functioning, Hamilton believed it was important to pay off all government bonds at face-value, in order that the "full faith and credit of the United States" be a meaningful source of confidence in the financial markets.
In fact, to this day the United States government has never defaulted on a loan or bond.
Hamilton's plan meant that speculators would be paid full face value for bonds they had purchased for pennies on the dollar. War veterans, those who had received the bonds in place of salary in the first place, those who had fought, nearly died, suffered starvation and freezing conditions, and were subjected to often harsh military discipline, were furious. They felt taken advantage of by the speculators in the first place, and now those they viewed as cheaters would be getting rich out of the bargain as well.
When veterans learned the details of Hamilton's tax plan to pay for the redemption of bonds, their anger boiled over. It turns out the whiskey tax disproportionately affected small farmers, especially those on the western frontier:
The 1791 excise law set a varying six to 18-cent per gallon tax rate, with smaller distillers often paying more than twice per gallon what larger producers paid.... While eastern farmers could readily transport their grain to market, westerners faced the hard task of moving their crops great distances to the east over the mountains along poor dirt roads. Given this difficulty, many frontier farmers distilled their surplus grain into more easily transportable whiskey. In doing so, their grain became taxable distilled spirits under the 1791 excise law, and western farmers opposed what was, in effect, a tax on their main crop. Usually cash-poor, frontier residents also used whiskey to pay for the goods and services they needed. Naturally, many westerners quickly came to resent the new excise tax on their "currency."
Many of those western farmers, it turns out, were revolutionary war veterans, and more than a few of them had sold their bonds to speculators. In their eyes, they were getting cheated twice -- first when they had to sell their salary for pennies on the dollar, and now by paying the taxes so the buyers of their salary could get full face value of that salary.
And all this had to be done for the good of the nation...
The Whiskey Rebellion, which began with the ink of the Second Amendment barely dry, represented a serious challenge to the authority of the federal government. The Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms on its website describes the uprising like this:
In the summer of 1794, U.S. Marshal David Lennon arrived in [Southwestern Pennsylvania, the focal point of the rebellion] to serve writs ordering those who had refused to pay the whiskey tax to appear in Federal court in Philadelphia. In Washington County, Federal revenue officer John Neville acted as Lennox 's guide. On July 15th, the two men served a writ on William Miller, but, after leaving the paper with the angry frontiersman, they were met by an armed group of his neighbors. A shot was heard as Lennox and Neville rode off, but neither man was injured.
Matters came to a head on July 16th when a group of angry farmers, including members of the extended Miller family, marched on Neville's house in the belief that Marshal Lennox was there. Confronted by these armed men, Neville shot and killed Oliver Miller. A shootout ensued, and Neville's slaves joined the fight by firing on the mob from their quarters. The protesters fled, but returned to Neville's house on July 17th with a force of 500 local militiamen. The tax collector, however, had slipped away earlier with the aid of a small squad of Federal soldiers from Fort Pitt who had come to guard his property. A shootout with the soldiers left rebel leader James McFarlane dead, but the greatly outnumbered Federals later surrendered. The rebels then burnt the Neville's house and barn to the ground. Several days later, David Bradford, deputy county attorney for Washington County, took command of the rebels in the county.
Other homes were also burnt, the federal mails intercepted, and pro-tax westerners were beaten in their homes. An anti-tax militia was mustered and descended upon Pittsburgh, though they eventually dispersed without shots being fired. Still, Washington called his Cabinet together to address the matter:
The President issued a proclamation on August 7th calling on the rebels" to disperse and retire peaceably to their respective abodes."[4] The proclamation also invoked the Militia Act of 1792, which, after Federal court approval, allowed the President to use State militiamen to put down internal rebellions and "cause the laws to be duly executed."[5] The same day, Secretary of War Henry Knox sent a letter to the governors of Maryland, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Virginia requesting a total of 12,950 militiamen to put down the rebellion....
On September 19, 1794, George Washington became the only sitting U.S. President to personally lead troops in the field when he led the militia on a nearly month-long march west over the Allegheny Mountains to the town of Bedford.
Washington's army, under the command of Hamilton and Revolutionary War hero "Lighthorse" Henry Lee placed the entire region under military occupation for several months. In that time, some 150 rebels were detained by the federal government, and twenty were brought back to the federal capital in Philadelphia for trial. Two were eventually convicted of treason and then pardoned by the president.
The Whiskey Rebels actually had a good cause: they were the victims of a patent injustice at the hands of the federal government. But they sought redress of their grievances through the language and tactics of revolution, natural enough considering they were themselves experienced revolutionaries.
President Washington showed them exactly where the limits of the Second Amendment lie. Far from authorizing the unrestricted use of firearms to protect one's individual liberty, Washington used his authority as President of the United States to raise a "well-regulated militia" and forcefully point down the budding military challenge to the federal government. With the ringleaders in detention, he put them on trial for their actual crime -- treason against the United States -- produced enough evidence to convict them, and then magnanimously let them go free.
The Teabaggers
Now, how do the teabaggers relate to either of these two historical movements? Well, in the first place they clearly do not represent the culmination of a long national movement against a tyrannical government. In fact, up until three months ago they fervently supported the government that bequeathed us the debt we now have to repay -- both in financial terms but more importantly in terms of an outdated, backwards economy ill-equipped to compete in the twenty-first century. We can reject the Boston Tea Party comparison out of hand.
Nor can they even be meaningfully compared with the Stamp Act rioters. First off, the teabaggers are cowards. Far from attempting to break into and destroy the houses of those they blame for their hardship, they are content to gather in public places and wave tea bags around. Second, the teabaggers are not even being taxed by the profound changes the Obama administration is implementing. In fact, most of them will benefit from the redistribution of wealth Obama's budget will create -- very, very few of them earn over $250,000 a year. Ten years from now, they will be surprised to learn that our economy functions better, their personal finances are more secure, and their liberties will not have been touched one whit by the transformations being put into place this year.
Finally, the only comparison to the Whiskey Rebels is that the teabaggers are engaging in treason, by giving "aid and comfort" and "adhering to the enemies" of the United States. If they do engage in violence against the government, we would be well-served by following the precedent set by President Washington more than two hundred and twenty years ago. Be firm and resolute in our national defense against the traitors, but welcome them back into society once their movement has been disbanded.