Our Declaration: A Reading of the Declaration of Independence in Defense of Equality

In the Declaration’s final section, Jefferson evokes the principle of “consanguinity” between the colonists and Britain—they are in a family relationship to one another, and thus the British people should support the colonists. Allen suggests that beyond this emotional appeal lies a strategy to get Parliament to support the colonial cause. With the use of “therefore,” the colonists advertise that they have reached their final course of action—they must separate from Britain because of all that has come before and because of the British people’s ongoing failure to defend them. The British people will be treated as friends only when they act in a friendly way; if they are antagonistic, they will be treated accordingly, regardless of the ties that once connected the two groups.

Finally, the text formally declares independence, pronouncing the colonies “free and independent states” (264). The language closely echoes previous resolutions from Lee in sessions of the Continental Congress, demonstrating the Declaration’s status as “democratic art.” Allen posits that the final two sections cement the Declaration’s genre status as a memo. It announces no new knowledge but rather a course of action: separation from Britain and a new status as states. The first instrument of change is language itself: By the document’s conclusion, the colonies are no longer colonies. They further appeal to the “Supreme Judge” to evaluate their intentions—indicating that they wish to behave morally. The colonists use “rituals and oaths” (266)—democratic writing and a pledge to a supreme being—to attest to their firm belief in their cause.

War would be necessary to truly make the words reality, but the Declaration was an essential beginning. In committing “their lives, fortunes, and sacred honor” (267), the colonists back their ideas with action in the world. The signers pledge the resources and people of their respective states since they act as representatives. 

Allen summarizes the prior aspects of equality in the Declaration: the right of states to self-determine, of individuals to access government and judge their quality of life, and the compiling of “collective knowledge” in the catalog of the king’s misdeeds. The “freedom from domination” that citizens and states need is best achieved through dialogue and “reciprocal responsiveness” (269). The final facet of equality in the text is each signer’s commitment to their shared cause—to “engage all members of a community equally in the work of creating and constantly re-creating that community” (269).

The Declaration concludes with the names of its signatories, their first and last names and the states they represented. Allen points out that most cultures have a first name and a familial name. The family name connects us to past generations, while the first name comes from our parents. Because they identify us and our commitments, names allow other people to hold us “accountable.” At the same time, our first names mark us as individuals who may make choices distinct from generations before us. This, too, is an aspect of equality: All of us may be known by our names and free in our individuality to shape our own lives. The Declaration’s signers held themselves accountable to each other and the new institutions they made. When people like the colonists dedicate themselves to equality, they recognize that “all people […] pursue happiness” (273), and they seek to build a political order that will recognize this drive and allow it to flourish. This project, Allen posits, is ongoing, as the United States is constantly shaping its institutions in line with these ideals.

In the Epilogue, Allen summarizes her core arguments—specifically, that the Declaration is as much about equality as it is about freedom and that too much of the text’s use and invocation in American political life concentrates only on freedom. While we often think of equality as access to political participation such as voting, the Declaration’s commitments are broader than that. Real equality is also about “access to government” and relationships that allow citizens to pursue knowledge and function as equals on a basis of “genuine reciprocity” (276). Finally, all citizens are to some degree, if not to the same ability, responsible for “co-creation and co-ownership of a shared world” (276). The text itself offers proof of its vision of equality: If all readers can grasp its essential arguments and views of human nature, then it follows that those arguments are grounded in fact. While its full promises about equality remain unrealized, it has inspired generations of activists to work for social change.

Allen concludes with a lament that so few Americans have read the Declaration and a final episode of close reading to prove it. The copy of the Declaration in the National Archives places a period after “Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.” It breaks up the mathematical equation and logical sequence from previous chapters—the connection between happiness and a “right to government” is severed (278). The historical record suggests that Mary Katherine Goddard’s edition converted a comma to a period, and this error was subsequently preserved. Goddard was likely working off of a prior, unofficial, printed version and preserved it in her own text. Allen argues that this should be corrected because Goddard’s insertion of punctuation contributes to a “routine but serious misunderstanding” (281), exacerbating a focus only on individual rights that is not consistent with the rest of the text. Allen argues that while there is no easy way to heal American political life, all people, especially young people, should read the Declaration. This will make for a more robust defense of equality and allow all Americans to “reclaim [their] patrimony” (283).