Considering she is 234 years old today and  accounting for all the wrinkles 
and scars, the United States  of America is looking pretty good for her age.
On the wall of my  office I have a framed copy of what is called the 
"Gadsden flag,"  one of the original flags of the American Republic. It 
displays  a coiled rattlesnake on a yellow field with the words "Don't Tread 
on Me" below the snake. The flag's history -- like all American  history -- is 
fascinating and complex. 
Over the last  two centuries-plus, different groups have used the Gadsden 
flag;  at the moment the Tea Party Movement has tried to appropriate it. 
Well, like so many icons and concepts of American liberty and  freedom, it 
doesn't belong to them. It belongs to us, like  the other tenets of the 
American Constitution  which expresses reserves in the 9th  Amendment -- 
that rights not otherwise enumerated  to the government belong to . . . 
the people.
I must  confess that I get profoundly depressed by the general lack of 
knowledge about the Constitution, American history, and the  reason for 
the symbolism that is laced through our popular  culture -- the reciting of 
the Pledge of Allegiance at  public meetings or the singing of the National 
Anthem at  sporting events. Because, like words, symbols matter. A lot.
The  history behind Independence Day is so radical, even today, that it 
bears examination and reflection. Much of my thoughts were  triggered by 
the receipt of an email from Professor John  Barrett, a law professor at St. 
John's University in  New York and the biographer to someone who is my 
personal  legal hero. Often called "the most important American no-one 
has  ever heard of," Robert  Jackson was  friend and Attorney General to 
Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Justice on the Supreme Court and,  most 
famously, Chief Prosecutor at the Nuremberg War Crimes  Tribunal. On July 
4, 1941, then-Attorney General  Jackson (who had just been nominated to 
the Supreme Court)  gave a speech. It was scheduled for the steps of the
 Washington Monument, but the weather turned  bad and was instead 
broadcast nationally from a radio studio  later that day.
Since context is just about everything,  it's important to remember that this 
was about two years  after the Nazi invasion of Poland and  then Europe, 
and German efforts to bomb England into  surrender. There was a great 
deal of anti-war sentiment in  the United States, fueled in large part by the 
still-fresh  memory of the terrible toll of what was then called "The Great 
War"  but, even more, a belief that the United States should just keep its 
nose out of what was happening in Europe.
Jackson was  having none of that. (Keep in mind he was about to be voted 
on  as a nominee to the US Supreme Court, just as Elena Kagan is  right 
now.) Imagine a Supreme Court nominee in the last 30  years pleading 
with America to remember that: "The  Declaration of Independence speaks 
strong doctrine in plain  words. It is the master indictment of oppression. 
The fervor  of its denunciation haunts and challenges dictators everywhere 
and in every field of life."
Jackson goes on to challenge  the Congressmen who don't want to face 
Nazi aggression:  "One fact emerges clear above all others.  We Americans 
cannot  cease to be the kind of people we are, we cannot cease to live the 
kind of life we live.  We are not the kind of people the  dictators will ever 
want in the world.  They will never have  any use for our kind of life, nor we 
for theirs."
So,  for America's birthday it is all well and good to have parades and 
barbecues, and fireworks that make our pets hide under the bed.  But let's 
remember what this is all about: that government  is for, by, and of the 
people. Those of us in the government  have one boss -- you, the people.
And exactly 184 years ago  today, which was the 50th birthday of America 
(1826), two of  the greatest Americans who helped make July 4th what it is 
died.  Thomas Jefferson at his home in Montecello, Virginia, and his long-
time friend and adversary John Adams, at his home in Quincy, 
Massachusetts, whose last words were, "It is a good day, a  great day.  
Jefferson survives."
And today, if we  remember, if we learn to tell others the meaning of 
American  liberty, independence and justice, they survive too.
