by Lynn Mandaville

Is it possible that memorials and statues commemorating The Lost Cause, the attempt by southern states to secede from the Union, were the first of their kind? Participation trophies?

Ponder on this a minute.

Eleven states participated in seceding from the United States in 1860.

They expended untold amounts of money of the effort.

They sent thousands upon thousands of men to die for this cause.

Those men gave it their all.  They did not succeed.

What do you give to the unsuccessful participants in such a colossal event?  Hundreds of statues on marble pedestals!

How do you reward the men who tried so hard, expended so much energy, on an effort that failed to achieve its goal?  With hundreds of bronze plaques on granite blocks!

So much was wagered by the South in their effort to become a nation apart from the United States to maintain the institution of slavery, their economic way of life.

Surely the people who sacrificed so much should have tangible, lasting reminders of that endeavor?

Except for the fact that the act of secession was treason, how does this differ from the ribbons, medals, and trophies we give to kids when they don’t succeed in coming in first?

Except for the fact that bronze, marble, and granite last longer than cheap plastic, cheap metal alloy, and synthetic ribbon, how does this differ from distinguishing people who win from people who lose?

Why this need to hang on to a loss?  To celebrate it?

Maybe I get it.

Mine was not a generation that gave out consolation prizes.  Mine was not a generation where just showing up merited an award.

But my fifth-place ribbon for my vintage car in a parade in 1993 is still in a drawer somewhere.  (Saved for posterity?)  Fifth place.  Is fifth even worthy of the cost of the ribbon?  I doubt it.  But I hang on to it, the vestige of my futile attempt to polish my car to within an inch of its life that July 4^th  and get a first-place award.

I don’t, however, feel a need to display this memory of my failure as if it were a success.  That’s not really a healthy response to failure.

The healthy response to failure is to evaluate it, learn from it and move on.

Confederate monuments and statues really are attempts to elicit success from failure.  They cry out to claim the South won, somehow, but the truth is the South lost.

Instead of evaluating their loss, learning from it, and moving on as contrite but stalwart members of the United States of America, the Confederates cling to defeat and promote The Lost Cause in their century-old mantra “the South shall rise again!”

In so doing, they further the idea that black people are somehow less, somehow subservient, to white people.

Which institutionalizes a not-so-subtle racism that permeates modern society.

It took the death of George Floyd to solidify in Americans the need to rid ourselves of the reminders of the South’s loss-as-victory.

NASCAR has banned Confederate flags from all aspects of their events.

Governors and city councils are removing, or planning to remove and relocate, statues and monuments.

Legislators have suggested mandatory name changes of military bases named for Confederate generals, and the United States Army is open to this action.

The United States Marines have banned the Confederate battle flag from all public spaces and work areas, soon to be followed by a similar order for United States Navy personnel.

Most Americans are okay with these changes.

There is absolutely no reason to hang on to harmful trophies for participation in treason.

To preserve our history?  Please!  As if without them we won’t remember who lost the Civil War?

The time has finally come to relegate Confederate historical mementos to books and historic parks where meaningful narrative can accompany these relics.

A loss evaluated.  A loss from which we’ve learned.

Let’s move on.