Earlier this year, I found myself looking for a book I read years ago in a US history class: This Republic of Suffering by Drew Gilpin Faust. The book tells the story of the American Civil War by focusing on death. With an estimated 620,000 soldiers, or 2 percent of the country’s population, killed—the equivalent of almost 7 million today—Faust looks at the impact of death and suffering on the nation. I thought of it after a former mentor, the very professor who assigned the book in the first place, spoke movingly to me about drawing inspiration and guidance from history, particularly when it comes to living through difficult times with courage and conviction. It’s a kinship of sorts—the recognition that others have endured the unthinkable and fought for the unimaginable, and so perhaps we can too.
I reached for Faust’s book as I reflected on American political violence today, the rise of authoritarianism and polarization, the ongoing effects of the pandemic, American-funded war crimes and genocide, and our escalating climate crisis. I felt afraid and overwhelmed, and I turned to US history because it’s what I know best. In retrospect, I was looking for the kind of solace my professor was talking about.
