been there a generation longer, and thenestablished society whose roots werenover 200 years old.nBen Sakmar, the fictional minernwhose steps we follow around the peripherynof the tragedy, bears the sobriquetnof Professor Novak’s maternal grandfather;nand throughout the book we seenthe escalating series of events throughnthe eyes of the miners, the sheriff, andnthe townspeople, some of whom wouldnlater be among those in the posse. Inneach case the simple reasoning—andnthe simple human failings—seems sonclear that one wonders how this wasnallowed to happen. At the same time wensee how the miners, with an Americannflag at the head of their column, expectednthe surrounding deputies tonunderstand the peaceful, even progressivenintentions of the march; but thendeputies, urged on by wary mine ownersnand some trigger-happy bigotries, sawnonly a rabble of “Hunkies” whose approachnmenaced property and humannsafety.nThe Lattimer story does not take longnto tell; and in reading it again one looksnfor the telltale signals which might pointnthe finger at one group or another—n”guilty!” Instead, we see through thenparticipants’ eyes, and no further thannthey could see; and Novak does not trynto fill the gaps with ideological ballast.nHe explains that he wants to make thisnreconstruction “a present to the Americannpeople”—we receive as a present anpart of our past. And indeed we findnthere “a closer connection between thenmany suffering peoples of Americanthan we are usually conscious of.”nBy insisting that we consider the culturalnand religious background of BennSakmar’s people, as well as the frame ofnmind of the established WASP communitynin northeastern Pennsylvania,nNovak persuasively argues that thenLattimer incident must be placed in ancontext much larger than that of mereneconomics or class conflict. In his painstakingninquiry into the events whichnpreceded the strike and the culturalnrealities surrounding it, he portrays anZZtnChronicles of Culturengroup of miners who love America, whonprefer the capitalism of the Pennsylvaniancoalfields to the penury and autocracynwhich they had left behind innEastern Europe; and an unexpected inferencenthat, for all its faults—for allnthe Lattimers—capitalism just mightnbe the best possible socioeconomic system.nAnd in the second work we considernhere, The American Vision, Novaknbrings his powers of observationnto bear witness in defense of Americanndemocratic capitalism, presently wagingna valiant battle to defend itself in anstruggle for survival.nSuch a military metaphor seems permissiblenhere, for American capitalismntoday finds itself under attack from anhost of adversaries; and the battle isnone of symbols, of ideological missilesnhurled by visionaries whose territory,nidealistic socialism, is not threatenednin return—because it does not exist.nPresent-day “socialist” regimes are nevernquite what the visionaries had in mind.nAnd yet, we see no others. And that isnpart of the problem.nSince before Adam Smith even putnpen to paper, social justice, processedninto Utopian systemic concepts, has beennthe pipe dream of revolutionary reformersnthroughout the world. And sincenclassical times, superbia vitae has beennrecognized as a potentially tyrannicalnelement in the order of the soul as wellnas the social order. The egalitarianndream combines this “spiritual concupiscence”nwith a romantic inclination ofnthe will to form an ideology so appealingnthat it has emerged unscathed fromnhundreds of years of history whichnunanimously contradict it. And MichaelnNovak points to the intellectual characternof this appeal of collectivism, andnthe decidedly anti-intellectual praxisnof American capitalism, as the determinantsnin the contemporary struggle fornpersuasion in American democracy. For,nwhile democracy has never been knownnto survive without capitalism, the greatestndanger to capitalism in contemporarynAmerica is posed by the war of ideasnbeing waged in the name of “democracy”nnnagainst the American business community.nOnly in a post-Cartesian world couldnthe notion survive that an economicnsystem could flourish regardless of thenintellectual and cultural conditions prevailingnin society. Yet, “the businessnof business is business,” and Americanncapitalism has been minding the storenwhile the intellectuals—basking in thenmaterial plenty provided by the capitalists—havenleveled their ideological cannonsnand taken aim. Novak explains:n”In the sphere of ideology and ideas,namong the artists and intellectuals, asnwell as among the masses of thenworld’s people, the advantages at presentnseem clearly to belong to the opponentsnof democratic capitalism. Tona remarkable extent, this seems to bentrue among many intellectuals withinnthe civilization of democratic capitalismnitself.”nLong ago Aristotle pointed out thatna certain level of wealth was necessarynfor political activity; capitalism hasnprovided that level of wealth for thenmajority of Americans (and it is probablyntrue that the very poor in thenUnited States are not politically active,nbut merely manipulated by the “povertynactivists” of the “new class” in and outnof government, whose income level isnwell above the national average). ButnProfessor Novak points to a fatal flawnin the “rampant individualism” whichnmotivates—and is often motivated by—nAmerican capitalism: too often, thenbonds of civility, religion, honor andnduty are broken to give free rein to thennormlessness presented as freedom; andndominant passions can often stray beyondnthe bounds of “doing your ownnthing” to run the range of human lusts,nincluding the inclination (seen by Augustinen1500 years ago) of equals to lustnfor power over their fellow men.nVery well: the battle in a democracynis one of persuasion—not, perhaps, ofnthe majority, but of the key decisionmakersnin government. And to this endn