The Founding Fathers on Leadership

by Donald T. Phillips

Genres: General Fiction

Synopsis

An exciting business primer based on the country-building strategies that sprang from the ingenuity, resourcefulness, determination, desperation & passion of America's founding fathers.

Release date: May 15, 2001

Publisher: Grand Central Publishing

Print pages: 272

Sample

“A free-born people are not required to submit to tyranny!”

Citizens of Marlborough,

Massachusetts, 1774

It was a time of great change. A time when one thing was on the way out and another on the way in.

Old and current value systems were being challenged. For centuries, people the world over had been oppressed through tyrannical
monarchies and dictatorships. There were no forms of government on earth that guaranteed, or even advocated rights for the
individual—let alone freedom itself.


There was anxiety among the masses, with much dissent and dissatisfaction. There was fear of the unknown—and yet a strong
desire for something better. On one hand, people wanted change. On the other, they resisted it when it hit too close to home.
There was comfort in the old ways.


Dissent soon turned to action by way of passionate civil disobedience. And, finally, civil disobedience itself metamorphosed
into full-scale revolution.


But the period surrounding the American Revolution was also a time of tremendous creativity and innovation. There were no
precedents for what was about to happen.


Clearly, something was waiting to be born.

*   *   *

The spark of a fire that would eventually burn around the world began in the so-called New World—in the thirteen American
colonies, most of which were formed in the seventeenth century by people seeking a better life than they had experienced in
Europe. By the mid-eighteenth century, all the colonies had become members of the British empire. Due to geographic location,
along with the wisdom of old King George II, Americans were pretty much allowed to run their own affairs.


Philadelphia, with a population of 34,000, was the largest city in America and second largest in the overseas British empire.
New York had a population of 22,000 in the north and, in the south, Charleston, with approximately 10,000 people, was the
chief port of economic activity. Because Americans were prolific producers of goods, they had a dynamic and prosperous economy.
As a matter of fact, America was famous for its “ragged currency”—so named because it changed hands frequently.


American autonomy, however, was significantly disrupted when, at the age of twenty-two, George III ascended to the throne
of Great Britain in 1760. Not as wise or benevolent as his grandfather, the new King immediately set out to establish his
power and influence over the Americans. His mental attitude and initial actions were like those of a modern tyrannical boss
who arrives to run a new organization—with no respect for the culture or individuals that are already in place. Worse yet,
the youthful George III attempted to impose his will and personal values on a proud and fiercely independent people.


One of the empire’s first moves against the colonies was to establish the Revenue Act of 1764 (better known as the Sugar Act),
which imposed a duty on American imports of molasses as well as limiting distribution from the West Indies to America. The
effect on American production of distilled whiskey and rum was devastating. Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New York, and Pennsylvania
immediately united and sent out numerous protestations to London—all of which fell on deaf ears. While Americans never did
like being told what to do—and usually ignored previous edicts or orders—Great Britain was now threatening their very livelihood.
And that was a different matter altogether.


On August 14, 1764, an effigy was hung from an elm tree in Boston’s Hanover Square. Beside it was a large black boot with
a devil crawling out of the opening (symbolizing the Earl of Bute, an unpopular British official). The “Liberty Tree,” as
it soon came to be known, became a gathering point for dissident, sometimes riotous Americans. And beating the effigy or the
boot was symbolic of striking a blow for freedom.


As tempers and passions began to rise, the American people became something of a volcano waiting to erupt. Just one major
quake was necessary to set them off. And Great Britain provided that catalyst with imposition of a series of new oppressive
government decrees.


The Quartering Act of 1765, for example, permitted the quartering of British troops in private residences without the permission
of homeowners (which gave a hint of future British plans). But it was the Stamp Act of that same year that really caused a
major crisis. The creation of this new tax (requiring stamps purchased from the British government be placed on nearly all
publicly sold documents) incited immediate and spontaneous riots across the colonies. Poor people were thrown out of work
because their employers could not afford to pay both them and the government. As a result, British officials were seized and beaten by American citizens and the slogan “No taxation without
representation” was heard all across the land.


Great Britain was equally defiant toward the American upstarts. After repealing the Stamp Act in 1766, the government added
the Declaratory Act, which proclaimed Parliament’s supreme power over the colonies in both legislation and taxation. And then,
in 1767, the royal government implemented the Townshend Acts—a series of external taxes levied on imports from England. More
important, however, was the fact that these new decrees subtly provided for all economic controls to pass from local government
authority to handpicked representatives of the British Crown. Unauthorized warrants and seizures were now sanctioned and,
with time, American fiscal affairs were to be controlled by Great Britain.


At first the Townshend Acts did not create a great deal of reaction. And, certainly, there was no organized revolutionary
movement in America. Gradually and steadily, however, a determination to resist British authority grew among businessmen,
merchants, skilled professionals, and astute southern plantation owners.


In April 1768, after John Hancock defiantly prevented an inspection of one of his cargo ships, the British government filed
criminal charges against him. This was not an act that went unnoticed, because Hancock was one of Boston’s wealthiest and
most influential businessmen. Even though the charges were eventually dropped, individual disobedience of British law became
more and more common.


On October 1, 1768, a large number of British troops landed in Boston to quell the dissidents and provide coercive support
for the local officials. But residents of Boston deeply resented the presence of troops and, almost immediately, groups of
radicals began roaming the streets of Boston picking fights with soldiers.


Finally on March 5, 1770, the British opened fire on one band of unarmed citizens—killing five and wounding six. Word quickly
spread throughout the colonies of “The Boston Massacre,” and public outrage began to reach a crescendo. In spontaneous and
unrelated events, Liberty Trees were consecrated from South Carolina to Connecticut as Americans rallied against the tyranny
of England.


After a few years of feeble attempts to quell the outrage, Great Britain finally repealed the Townshend Acts. But only a few
months later, in March 1773, the Crown (through the newly formed Gaspee Commission) took the unprecedented step of assuming
power to negate trial by jury in the American colonies. And then, in an effort to rescue the near-bankrupt East India Company,
Parliament passed the Tea Act of 1773. Already alarmed at the threat of a British monopoly on tea, Americans were further
outraged when Tory merchants (British businessmen in America) were granted sole rights to sell the tea.


In protest, a group of Bostonians, thinly disguised as Indians, headed for Griffin’s Wharf late on the evening of December
16, 1773. There, in what has since become known as the “Boston Tea Party,” they boarded ships from the British East India
Company and threw 342 chests of tea overboard into Boston Harbor.


When news of this latest defiant act reached England, the government reacted angrily. On January 29, 1774, the British Privy
Council summoned Benjamin Franklin, who was in London as an agent for the Massachusetts state legislature. At that meeting
the solicitor general, Alexander Wedderburn, spent more than an hour dressing down Franklin and assailing his virtue and character.
All the sixty-eight-year-old American could do was to stand there in silence—and take it.


The British Parliament then passed the Boston Port Bill, which created a blockade of Boston Harbor—closing off all overseas
trade and coastal shipping until the East India Company was repaid for its lost tea. Parliament also passed several more measures
that, combined with the other acts of oppression, were quickly labeled the “Intolerable Acts.” These included the Massachusetts
Government Act (which dissolved the local government, abolished town meetings, and prevented the passage of new legislation),
the Impartial Administration of Justice Act (in which those accused of capital crimes were sent to England for trial and punishment),
and the Quebec Act (which seized colonial lands by extending the boundaries of British Canadian territory to the Ohio and
Mississippi rivers).


By September 1774, Boston was, in effect, under siege. Its citizens were starving; as businesses were closed down, hundreds
of people were thrown out of work; personal property values fell drastically; thousands fled to nearby towns and villages.
When November rolled around, about a dozen British regiments were occupying the city. And General Thomas Gage, acting governor
of Massachusetts (who authorized the use of force to maintain authority), had only contempt for the local citizenry—referring
to them as “a rude rabble … without plan, concert, or conduct.” “What fools you are,” he told American leaders, “to pretend
to resist the power of Great Britain.”


The siege of Boston, coupled with the Intolerable Acts, raised the conflict between Great Britain and the American colonies
to a new level. As word spread, food and supplies began arriving in Boston from Philadelphia, Baltimore, Windham (Connecticut),
Kingston (New Hampshire), and Essex County (Virginia). And soon all the other colonies rallied to the aid of their neighbors
in Massachusetts. The American people were absolutely outraged by the incursions and oppressive acts taken by the British
Crown. One wagonload of food was accompanied with a note of support: “Consider we are all embarked in [the same boat] and
must sink or swim together.”


In Massachusetts, citizens became committed and stood ready to preserve their homeland. “Death is more [acceptable] than slavery,”
resolved a group in Marlborough. “A free-born people are not required to submit to tyranny.”


When General Gage sent troops to seize a supply of gunpowder in nearby Charlestown, frantic rumors began to spread that the
British were on a rampage of pillage and torture. In less than twenty-four hours, an estimated 20,000 armed citizens from
all over the state descended on Boston to defend its inhabitants. When word filtered down that Gage had embarked only on a
minor mission, everyone headed back to their homes.


They had acted on simply a rumor.

*   *   *

While it was clear that the American people were ready to fight for their freedom, it was equally clear that the British government
seemed intent on taking over the reins of authority and power. In the process, America’s prosperous economy was in danger
of being destroyed; its citizens persecuted and taxed to death; and the people’s individual rights, personal property, and
colonial territories taken from them.


What were they to do?

The Americans were David against the mighty Goliath of Great Britain—whose empire was the strongest economic power on earth
with the largest and most powerful navy and army. The Americans had no army, no navy, no kings or queens to look to for leadership.
And there were no precedents for a colony breaking away from its parent country to form a new and independent nation. It simply
had never before been done. How were the Americans to overcome such overwhelming odds?


Clearly, the American people needed leadership. But new leaders would have to rise from within their own ranks—which is exactly
what happened. As a matter of fact, history regards the crisis of the American Revolution as having produced some of the greatest
captains of true leadership that civilization has ever known.


Well, that begs a fundamental question: Just what exactly is true leadership, anyway? And how does it differ from, say, management
or dictatorship?


In his landmark book Leadership, James MacGregor Burns offered a simple and clear definition that, with slight modification, is an excellent starting point:


Leadership is leaders acting—as well as caring, inspiring and persuading others to act—for certain shared goals that represent
the values—the wants and needs, the aspirations and expectations—of themselves and the people they represent. And the genius
of leadership lies in the manner in which leaders care about, visualize, and act on their own and their followers’ values
and motivations.


There are three key points to remember about this definition. First, leadership omits the use of coercive power. Leaders,
rather, move others by caring, by inspiring, and by persuading. While tyranny and dictatorship are not only contradictory
to the rights of human nature, they are contradictory to leadership itself. Second, leaders have a bias for action that is
centered around shared goals. And third, leaders act with respect to the values of the people they represent—which are in
concert with their own personal convictions.


True leadership, then, is very different from many theories of modern management that are centered around a command and control
hierarchy. Furthermore, compromise, consensus, and teamwork (so-called soft management techniques) vault to the forefront.
Why? Because if leaders are to act for the people they represent, they must first listen, establish trust, discuss, debate,
understand, and learn. Effective communication also becomes critical because it is the only way to inspire and persuade others.


There has always been difficulty in understanding and practicing real leadership. That’s because it is more of an art than
a process. There seem to be no set rules for leaders to follow—only guidelines and concepts, perceptions and ideas, abstractions
and generalities.


So how do we learn to be effective leaders? We learn by observing successful individuals, by studying those who have demonstrated
their abilities with tangible, visceral results. When studying great leaders of the past, consistent patterns begin to emerge;
common skills become readily apparent; and certain personal traits appear and reappear time after time—from leader to leader,
from century to century.


By careful observation, it becomes apparent that effective leadership requires specific skills and abilities. For example,
good leaders are visionary and decisive. They are able to effectively communicate both their vision and their decisions to
a wide array of people, in a variety of venues with multiple methods. Effective leaders have an intuitive understanding of
human nature that combines with the ability to care, establish trust, and build alliances. They are able to work in teams,
which, in turn, leads to exceptional skills in fashioning consensus, compromising when necessary, and valuing diversity of
thought, ability, and culture. Also, the best leaders have the know-how to successfully create and manage change.


In addition to these acquired abilities, truly great leaders tend to exhibit certain personal traits that are more a part
of their character, more innate. They include: high ethical standards in which a person consistently attempts to “do the right
thing”; an unusually strong bias for action fueled by a high rate of personal energy and an almost uncontrollable desire to
achieve; and a propensity for lifelong learning, curiosity, and continual improvement. Many leaders also possess an unwavering
self-confidence that frequently translates into courage in the face of adversity, the willingness to take risks, and a sense
of destiny—a personal belief that they are meant for something special, perhaps even greatness.


Moreover, the study of acknowledged great leaders has produced solid evidence that people can be predisposed to creative and
effective leadership from childhood. For instance, many past leaders experienced a strong bond with their mothers. For some,
this connection was accompanied by an overwhelmingly negative or virtually nonexistent attachment to their fathers—completing
a true oedipal relationship.


Howard Gardner, in his book Leading Minds, noted that: “Future leaders have often lost fathers at an early age. According to one study, over 60 percent of major British
political leaders lost a parent in childhood, more often the father.” He also confirmed that leaders often experienced “a
contrasting set of relations with their parents” and that, at an early age, they displayed “confidence” and “a willingness
to rely on oneself.”


Certainly this was true of Abraham Lincoln, for instance, who had an exceptionally close relationship with his stepmother.
The depth of their unusually warm bond was illustrated when Lincoln visited her just prior to assuming the presidency. She
had been his earliest and strongest source of reassurance and support. By contrast, Lincoln refused to even attend his father’s
funeral.


Franklin Roosevelt had a well-known attachment to his mother—and was frequently referred to as a “mama’s boy.” Because of
bouts of chronic illness, Theodore Roosevelt maintained a strikingly physical attachment to his mother, who, in childhood,
seemed to be always by his side. Even Sigmund Freud—the great psychiatrist and leader of the psychoanalysis movement—received
special attention from his mother, while feeling ambivalent toward his father. That may have led, in part, to his famous observation
in The Interpretation of Dreams: “I have found,” wrote Freud, “that people who know that they are preferred or favored by their mother give evidence in their
lives of a peculiar self-reliance and an unshakable optimism which often seem like heroic attributes and bring actual success
to their possessors.”


Many future leaders also experienced some form of tragedy relatively early in life. Mohandas K. Gandhi lost his father in
adolescence. At the age of nine, Lincoln experienced the death of his natural mother, and when he was nineteen, his sister
died in childbirth. Theodore Roosevelt lost his father when he was nineteen, and six years later, his mother and wife died
on the same day. Franklin Roosevelt was barely eighteen when his father passed away—and the burning death of his aunt when
he was two years of age may have accounted for his lifelong fear of fire.


Sickness and death experienced by these well-known leaders may have led to a feeling that life is short; there’s not much
time to achieve; better make the most of it while you’re here on this earth. Many contemporaries reported that these men always
seemed to have more energy than the average person—were always busy and seemed to be in a hurry.


Countless leaders grew up in a home that had a strong work ethic and high moral values—one where books and learning were not
only encouraged but commonplace. Theodore Roosevelt’s home was a place of habitual learning and constant reinforcement. His
father always encouraged him to seize the moment. Lincoln, when young, was rarely without a book. Harry Truman’s parents admonished
him to be good, urged hard work down on the farm, and reinforced the belief that he could be anything he wanted to be. Later
in life, Truman recalled never being bored because “we had a house full of books.”


Compare this profile with those of some of the more famous American founding fathers. There was the unbridled curiosity and
intellectual capacity of Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, and James Madison. There was the self-confidence and sense of
destiny felt by both George Washington and John Adams. All were known for their integrity, courage, and high moral values.
All were continual learners who surrounded themselves with books of all kinds. And, without exception, all were achievement-oriented,
energetic, and driven.


Many of the founding fathers had very close relationships with their mothers coupled with a strained or nonexistent relationship
with their fathers. As a matter of fact, several experienced their father’s death relatively early in life: Jefferson was
fourteen years old when his father died; Washington only eleven. The Marquis de Lafayette’s father was killed when he was
two years old. Alexander Hamilton’s father abandoned his family when the boy was ten—and John Adams lost his father at the
age of twenty-six. As such, while coming from many different backgrounds, with varied upbringings, the founding fathers also
turned out to have many things in common.


*   *   *

At the dawn of the American Revolution, Europeans viewed America as a backwoods wilderness—and Americans themselves as colonial
bumpkins, inferior in stature and intelligence. The British empire attempted to impose both political and business tyranny
on the American colonies. But the local people drew together in support of one idea: the idea that humankind had a right to
be free, to have a say in their own affairs, with a right to self-governmen. . .