Reckoning with America’s Foundational Myths: A Call for Transformative Justice

The United States’ founding narrative often celebrates ideals of liberty and democracy, yet a closer examination reveals a history steeped in violence, exploitation, and exclusion. For many Black and Indigenous communities, the nation’s origins are not a story of freedom but one of erasure and survival—a reality rooted in the deliberate choices of those who built their power on stolen land and enslaved labor. As one observer noted, the majority of white Americans have effectively “wiped their ass” with the lofty principles of figures like George Washington, opting instead to crown a modern-day “king” in Donald Trump—a symbol of continuity in systemic oppression [1][7]. This sentiment reflects a broader disillusionment with the myth of American exceptionalism, which has long sanitized the brutal realities of genocide and enslavement.

The Paradox of Liberty and Oppression

During the American Revolution (1775–1783), the contradiction between rhetoric and reality became stark. While white colonists fought for independence from British rule, they simultaneously upheld systems of racialized oppression. Enslaved African Americans, despite being denied freedom, played pivotal roles in the conflict. Records show that both free and enslaved Black men fought on both sides, often seeking promises of emancipation from the British or colonial forces [5][6]. Yet, even after the Revolution, slavery persisted as an economic cornerstone, exposing the hypocrisy of a nation that professed equality while codifying inequality [6][9]. The Founding Fathers—many of whom were wealthy plantation owners—crafted a republic that enshrined “liberty” for some while entrenching subjugation for others [6]. As historian Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz argues, this duality was not accidental but foundational, embedding racial capitalism into the nation’s DNA [3][9].

Genocide, Capitalism, and the Cost of “Progress”

The dispossession of Native lands and the enslavement of African people were not incidental to America’s rise—they were foundational. The genocide of Indigenous populations and the exploitation of enslaved labor fueled the economic engine of the new nation, creating hierarchies that endure today, where wealth and opportunity remain disproportionately concentrated among white Americans [3][9]. This system was justified through narratives of “progress,” a myth that persists in modern political discourse. Even as the Pilgrims’ arrival in 1620 is framed as a tale of perseverance, it marked the beginning of violent displacement for Indigenous nations—a pattern repeated for centuries [5]. The election of leaders like Trump, who openly glorified settler colonialism and white supremacy, underscores how these myths continue to shape power structures, privileging whiteness while dismissing demands for justice [1][7].

Modern Implications: Who “Deserves” This Country?

Today, debates over identity, equity, and justice often center on who belongs in America—and who benefits from its systems. Demographic shifts and rising calls for reparations or land restitution challenge the notion that the current power structures are either deserved or sustainable. For many marginalized communities, the question isn’t just about inclusion but reimagining what governance, belonging, and sovereignty could look like beyond colonial frameworks [3]. As one critic remarked, the U.S. economy would “crater” if enslaved people and Indigenous nations had been allowed to flee or reclaim autonomy—a testament to how deeply exploitation is woven into the nation’s fabric [9]. This reality fuels skepticism toward the idea of “belonging” in a country built on theft and violence, particularly when figures like Trump embody a rejection of accountability.

Moving Forward: Beyond Myths to Accountability

To address these legacies, we must confront uncomfortable truths:

• Acknowledge Genocide and Enslavement: Treat these histories as central, not peripheral, to the American story. The Founding Fathers’ legacy cannot be divorced from their roles as enslavers and colonizers [6][9].
• Economic Reparation: Explore policies that rectify centuries of wealth extraction from Black and Indigenous communities, recognizing that the nation’s prosperity was built on their labor and suffering [3][9].
• Decolonize Systems: Center Indigenous sovereignty and Black self-determination in policy and practice, moving beyond performative gestures toward structural change [3][8].

The U.S. was not founded on universal principles but on exclusion. By dismantling myths of inherent meritocracy and confronting its violent past, the nation can begin to build a future rooted in justice—not nostalgia. Yet, as long as figures like Trump are celebrated for perpetuating the same hierarchies as the founders, the dream of equity remains deferred—a reality that demands not just reflection but radical reimagining.