The Lansdowne portrait is an iconic life-size portrait of George Washington painted by Gilbert Stuart in 1796. It depicts the 64-year-old President of the United States during his final year in office.


On February 22nd, our nation will observe the 290th anniversary of the birth of George Washington. In former and better times that birthday, as well as Abraham Lincoln’s, were rightfully celebrated as separate national holidays, days wherein we might contemplate the individual accomplishments of these two great leaders. To revive that tradition, and to provide a lesson which has great relevance to the crisis of today, we offer this short essay on the subject of leadership, in honor of the Father of our Nation.

Leadership is not a quality relegated to only a chosen few; it is a compelling personal matter for each of us. If we are to win the battles of today, none of us can afford to be a mere “supporter” or “follower.” Leadership is always in short supply, and victory is only possible if each of us accepts the challenge to lead—and to develop the creative abilities and courage to do so effectively.

Leadership requires more than mere partisanship, denunciations of “progressives” and RINOs, or participation in rage-filled twitter debates. Leadership mandates calm and determined deliberation as to how to achieve victory, how to build a better future, how to recruit our fellow citizens to this cause, and how to recognize the policies which will rebuild our economy and rescue our nation.

Of paramount importance, leadership requires courage—a type of moral courage which is rare during “normal” times, but which has the potential to burst forth in the maelstrom of crisis. This is a species of courage characterized by a willingness to risk all on behalf of truthful principles.

Washington is often treated as sui generis—his life almost an unapproachable ideal. Yet, as most mature adults are aware, one’s mortal life is composed of a series of decisions, and the courage to follow through on the implications of those decisions will determine the moral character (or lack thereof) which a person develops. In Washington we find an individual human being who was willing to risk his life, his liberty—and the future of the nation itself—on the decisions he made and on actions which he deemed necessary.

In this report we shall look at one example of leadership from the life of George Washington, but before turning to that essential subject matter, let us situate this question of leadership within the events of our own time.

LaRouche and Trump

Any honest examination of the life of Lyndon LaRouche is an exercise in studying moral leadership. From as early as the 1940s into the second decade of this century, LaRouche maintained a course of action where he always remained true to his star. As early as 1945, when he was warned in India that his life was under threat for supporting Indian independence, or in the immediate post-war years when he single-handedly declared war on the evil nostrums of John von Neumann, LaRouche had chosen a path defined by a commitment to scientific truth and opposition to the policies of the British Empire—a personal dedication which he would maintain despite threats, slanders, imprisonment, and risks to his own life for the next seven decades.

In the 1950s, when most of his generation adapted to the social and political mores of the post-war years, LaRouche held to his standard unapologetically. In 1968, when the Ford Foundation attempted to create race riots in New York City around the slogan of “local control of the schools,” LaRouche insisted that his young organization intervene to defend the American Federation of Teachers—documenting in detail, how the “august” Ford Foundation was acting to set the city on fire while destroying the trade union/civil rights alliance at the center of both the civil rights movement and defense of the working class. 

Thereafter, the FBI and the emergent U.S. and global security state undertook a campaign of hate, defaming LaRouche and attacking him with an intensity not seen until Donald Trump emerged on the U.S. political scene. LaRouche fought on, building a political movement which the FBI only crippled when they convicted LaRouche in a frameup in 1988. At sentencing, knowing that the prosecutors wanted him to die in prison, LaRouche did not apologize for anything. Instead, he directly addressed those responsible for the frameup, and the reasons for it. In 2009, LaRouche, against the wishes of many of his closest allies, dictated that LaRouche PAC would place a Hitler mustache on Barack Obama and declare war on the fascist content of Obama’s policies. LaRouche never backed away from a necessary fight, or principled fight, no matter the odds or apparent political or personal penalties.

This brings us to Donald Trump. Today, as Joe Biden’s poll numbers threaten to dip—much like interest rates—into the realm of negative numbers, there is a growing admission among many within the saner elements of the Democratic Party and among independent voters that things were “better under Trump.” But at the same time, we see a sinister campaign which posits that Trump must be replaced as the leader of the Republican Party due to his “abrasiveness” and “divisiveness.” This is what some have called “Trumpism without Trump.” 

Is this possible? Putting to one side the reality that those who are now determined to deny Trump a second term as President have been anti-Trump all along, the answer to that question is a resounding No! Could Lyndon LaRouche’s accomplishments have been made without LaRouche? Or could what George Washington accomplished have been done without Washington? Or a Beethoven symphony without Beethoven, or a Rembrandt painting without Rembrandt? No, No, and No!

Eisenhower warned of the “Military-Industrial Complex.” But Trump acted to challenge the power of that Complex. He fought the treasonous elements within our national security apparatus in a way that no other President has attempted with the sole exception of John Kennedy. He acted to terminate the “endless wars.” He acted to resolve strategic differences with Russia and China. He acted to withdraw the United States from the genocidal Paris Climate Accords, causing hysteria within the Davos crowd and the imperial deep state. He re-launched the vision of the American space program with Project Artemis. He withstood two impeachment trials. And, when the election was stolen in November 2020, he stated—and continues to state—that it was stolen. This is leadership. This is adamantine moral courage. It exists within the mind and the heart of a human individual.


Washington’s feats are, of course, legendary:  his military defense of New York City in 1776, which fools have labeled a military “blunder,” but which was indispensable in solidifying the rebellion against Britain; the daring Crossing at Trenton; courage amidst the suffering at Valley Forge and near dissolution of the Continental Army; his 1783 speech at Newburgh to quell a potential revolt within the Continental Army; his role in organizing and directing the Constitutional Convention. During the Revolutionary War, Washington was willing—sometimes against great odds—to risk all in a battle he judged to be necessary. The list of his interventions and accomplishments is almost endless, and his leadership and wisdom were recognized by his contemporaries. He was elected UNANIMOUSLY four times to vital positions:  as Commander of the Continental Army (1775), as President of the Constitutional Convention (1787), as President of the United States (1788 and 1792). It is impossible here to present a chronology of Washington’s life, so in this offering, we shall examine only one battle—the battle which increasingly consumed his attention from 1791 to the end of his life. It is a battle little known or understood, but one which has direct bearing upon the situation we find ourselves in today.


In 1789 the U.S. Constitution was mere words on paper—the ink barely dry, adopted against fierce opposition and only following very narrow victories in several states, including Virginia and New York. The Constitution did not create a Republic; it made possible the creation of a Republic. The realization of that intention rested in the hands of George Washington.

Washington’s vision of the new American Republic was never shared by Thomas Jefferson, and when Alexander Hamilton, with Washington’s backing, submitted his proposal for a National Bank to Congress in 1790—only a little more than a year into Washington’s first term—Jefferson declared war on not only the Washington administration, but on the intention of the Constitution itself. Some may find it unfathomable that Jefferson was able to quickly recruit James Madison, the author of many of the Federalist Papers, to his side, but two things are worth noting. First, the initial “Virginia Plan” submitted by Madison and Edmund Randolph at the 1787 Constitutional Convention was a far cry from the nationalist Constitution that was eventually adopted—largely through the efforts of Hamilton, Gouverneur Morris, and their allies. Madison’s plan would have imposed a figurehead presidency, an impotent federal judiciary, and a crippled government with respect to its role in economic development. At the same time, Madison and his allies were determined to institutionalize slavery in the new nation, and they had been shocked by both the attacks on slavery at the Constitutional Convention, as well as the anti-slavery actions proposed by both Washington’s New York allies, as well as Benjamin Franklin.

Contrary to what is portrayed in most history books, the attack launched by Jefferson and Madison against Washington and Hamilton in 1790 was not simply a political debate, nor what some have misleadingly called a “cabinet battle.” The nascent Republic was only one year old, and Jefferson was determined to overthrow the intention of the 1788 Constitution and to murder the baby in its crib.

Following the establishment of the National Bank, Hamilton went further, and on December 5, 1791, he submitted his Report on the Subject of Manufactures to Congress—acting on behalf of a request from President Washington. In this report Hamilton proposed to use the sovereign economic power of the government to secure the future existence of the Republic through fostering progress in manufacturing, technology, and science. Washington fully backed Hamilton’s proposals.

Letters that passed between Jefferson and Madison make clear that the Report on Manufactures was the breaking point for them. They would not allow the sovereign economic development of the nation to be accomplished in the way that Hamilton and Washington proposed. Initially, Jefferson’s game was to attempt to drive a wedge between Hamilton and Washington. He peppered Washington with numerous letters and communications attacking Hamilton—each more violent in its language than the preceding one. One letter, dated May 23, 1792, stated that Hamilton’s intention was to “to prepare the way for a change from the present republican form of government to that of a monarchy.” Another letter from the same year lectured Washington that Hamilton was “a man whose history, from the moment at which history can stoop to notice him, is a tissue of machinations against the liberty of the country.”

In December of 1792, Jefferson launched an overt campaign to drive Hamilton from office. He authored a Congressional resolution accusing Hamilton of violating numerous laws. The resolution read in part, “Resolved, That the Secretary of the Treasury has been guilty of maladministration in the duties of his office, and should, in the opinion of Congress, be removed from his office by the President of the United States.” This was, in effect, an impeachment resolution, and it was set before the House of Representatives on February 27, 1793. It was soundly defeated, with only five favorable votes—including that of James Madison.

The Trump Treatment

The accusation against Hamilton as a pro-British “monarchist,” presented by Jefferson in his letters to Washington, became the rallying cry of the Jeffersonian party. The timespan of almost 250 years prevents today’s reader from grasping the extreme threat of the “monarchist” libel, but to understand what was done, consider the almost universal charge of “racist” and “domestic terrorist” now being hurled at all opponents of the current Biden regime. Anyone who disagrees with the Biden agenda—on anything!—is routinely labeled a racist and/or a terrorist, and the full legal power of the national security state is deployed against them. In 1792 the accusation of “monarchism” was an even deadlier threat.

The great irony, as Washington himself pointed out, is that unlike Washington and Hamilton who had suffered with the Army from Brooklyn Heights, through Valley Forge and on to Yorktown, and who had fought in combat against the British Empire for eight years, those accusing them of treason and monarchism were Virginians—most of whom had never fired a shot during the war, but who were now trying to rewrite history. Washington and Hamilton were now being accused of treason by Jefferson, whose closest brush with combat occurred when he fled from a British raiding party that targeted his plantation on June 4, 1781.

The third individual who rounded out the leadership of the anti-Washington Virginia troika was Jefferson’s puppet, the sycophant James Monroe. Monroe penned numerous articles attacking Hamilton, culminating with an article in the Virginia Gazette and General Advertiser on September 4, 1793, that denounced Hamilton and his allies John Jay and Rufus King. Monroe writes: “The game which the enemies to the French revolution, who are likewise notoriously the partisans for Monarchy, are now playing, is entitled to particular attention. . . . a powerful faction is opposed to the great principles of the French revolution, and much more attached to the constitution of England, than to that of their own country.” And on August 23rd of the same year, in a letter to John Brackenridge, Monroe wrote:  “The monarchy party has seized a new ground whereon to advance their fortunes. . . and are laboring to turn the popularity of this respectable citizen [Washington], against the French revolution, thinking to separate us from France and pave the way for an unnatural connection with Britain.”

Part 2.

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