Mightier than the sword

‘Without the pen
of Paine, the sword of Washington would have been wielded in vain.’

Joel Barlow, American diplomat and poet

There was but one topic
of conversation throughout the American colonies in the summer of 1776.
Although the settlers were locked in a bloody armed struggle with Britain the
talk was not, as one would expect, of battles won or lost. Wherever people
gathered, in every farmyard and factory, in every tavern and town, from the
lowest paid farmhands to the richest merchants and landholders, the talk was
the same: Common Sense. This was the title of a 47 page political
pamphlet which was gripping everyone’s imagination with its powerful,
persuasive arguments against the monarchy and in favour of American
independence.

But who was the author of this unsigned work which was so dramatically changing
the attitude of so many Americans towards the nature of their conflict with the
‘Mother Country’? The political and intellectual elite were certain it was one
of their own: "…I think our friend Franklin has been principally concerned
in the composition," wrote General Horatio Gates to a fellow officer.
Others credited were Thomas Jefferson and John Adams (two future presidents of
the USA); others thought it was Samuel Adams, who was to become governor of
Massachusetts. But it was none of these political luminaries. The author was a
recent arrival on America’s shores. His name was Thomas Paine.

Born on January 29, 1737, the son of a Quaker father and Anglican mother, Paine
lead an interesting and eventful, but ultimately unhappy life in England. Twice
married (his first wife died when he was twenty-four years old.), his career in
his homeland was varied: privateer, teacher, preacher, customs officer and
shopkeeper, he campaigned for better wages for his colleagues, the poorly paid
excisemen. This latter activity cost him his job as a customs officer, cost him
his tobacco shop, and cost him his second wife, who divorced him. The unhappy,
disillusioned Paine returned from Lewes, where he had been stationed as an exciseman,
to London, where a friend introduced him to an elderly but energetic American,
the sixty-eight-year-old scientist, writer and statesman Benjamin Franklin.
Franklin took an immediate liking to him and was later to boast that Thomas
Paine was his "…adopted political son." Sensing that Paine was the sort of man
who belonged to the America he hoped to build, he urged him to emigrate there.
On November 30th, 1774, Paine arrived in Philadelphia with a letter
of introduction to Franklin’s son and son-in-law in his pocket.

Paine looked around Philadelphia, the unofficial capital of the American
colonies, and liked what he saw: a society of mixed religions and ethnicity,
its immigrant workers were spirited and dynamic; they were eager to seek a
better life than that which they had endured in the oppressive regimes of
England and the rest of Europe. America breathed new life into him, it inspired
him – here was an opportunity to "…begin the world anew."

It was far from perfect, this new society that Paine had joined: there
were inequalities and there were social injustices; many of the richer settlers
and landowners behaved just like the English gentry, and worst of all – there
was slavery! But these wrongs could be put right. This was a young country
peopled by many who had themselves fled from various forms of injustice and
oppression in their homelands; the ordinary men and women in this new world
could, given direction and leadership, make this land the best place in the
world to live in, and set a shining example for the rest of humanity. And
Thomas Paine was determined to point them in the right direction. He was
excited to learn that even the lowest paid workers were already demanding the
right to vote in city elections, and there was even talk that the Philadelphia
Militia were demanding the right to elect their own officers. Yes – these were
people with fire in their bellies, these were people capable of shaping their
own destiny.

He was in his element when he was offered a job as editor in a new periodical, The
Pennsylvania Magazine. Along with editing he was also writing articles for The
Pennsylvania and other magazines. He railed against slavery: "That some
desperate wretches should be willing to steal and enslave men by violence and
murder for gain, is rather lamentable than strange. But that many civilized,
nay, Christianized people should approve, and be concerned in the savage
practice, is surprising." March 1775

Under his editorship The Pennsylvania became the biggest selling
periodical in America. He was on the crest of a wave: his own writing was
attracting critical acclaim, and Franklin’s son-in law, Richard Bache, was
introducing him to some of Philadelphia’s leading citizens. Then once again things
took a turn for the worse: he angered John Witherspoon (the magazine’s
co-publisher) by editing some of his work. He was obliged to resign and the
vindictive Witherspoon slandered him with false allegations that he was a
drunkard. Paine did not drink to excess but for the rest of his life his many
detractors maliciously circulated this false rumour.

But in 1775 there were more pressing matters occupying Paine’s thoughts: the
quarrel between America and Britain had escalated into open warfare with the
battles of Lexington and Concord in April, followed by a much bloodier
confrontation at Bunker Hill in June. He concluded that the aims of this
dispute must now be changed. It was no longer sufficient to fight for rights
and justice within the framework of the British Empire; it was time for
Americans to sever links with Britain and assert their independence. To this
end he set himself the task of writing what was to become the biggest-selling,
most widely read and successful political pamphlet in history: Common Sense.

We were blind

"We were blind, but on reading these enlightening
words the scales have fallen from our eyes." Thus wrote a Connecticut reader to the Pennsylvania Post in 1776.
To appreciate the impact of Paine’s writing it is essential to be aware of
the prevailing psychology at the time. It is true that there always were some
who had advocated fighting for independence, but they were very much in the
minority. Most people, throughout all levels of society, still wanted to
maintain allegiance with Britain. They believed it was Parliament, and not
‘good’ King George, that was to blame for the unfair taxation that was being
imposed upon them. Get rid of these vile ministers and Americans would dwell
with respect and dignity under the British constitution as part of the Empire.
George Washington and his fellow officers were still drinking to the King’s
health; Thomas Jefferson wrote: "There is not a man in the British Empire
who more cordially loves a union with Great Britain than I do."

Washington, one of the richest men in America, and others of his ilk, had every
reason to remain locked into the British Empire: they were alarmed by the
growing confidence of the working-class whom they despised and wished to keep
in their place. Statesman Gouverneur Morris referred to the common people as
‘reptiles’. And of course the ordinary people themselves, preconditioned by
generations of having loyalty to king and country drilled into their psyches,
were still proud to be British.

Then Common Sense struck the continent like an earthquake, its
shockwaves shattering the political status quo in every state along the entire
East coast of America. No longer would his Royal Majesty be held in such
reverence and awe, no longer would the workers and peasants regard the
aristocracy and the landed gentry of Britain (and America) as their betters.
Overnight the people of America had become wide awake to reality, and they were
demanding the right to rule themselves – total independence! Such was the power
of Tom Paine’s pen.

Common Sense was published on January 10, 1776, and the world had seen
nothing like it before. It was the most powerful and persuasive piece of
political writing that had ever been produced; its irrefutable logic utterly
destroyed the case for the monarchy, the aristocracy and the corrupt system of
British government. Demand for the forty-seven-page pamphlet could barely be
met: it sold half a million copies. Considering the size of the population at
the time, a large proportion of which could neither read nor write, this made
it the biggest seller of all time; relative to today’s population the
equivalent sales would be 50 million. This was achieved by one man, without any
organised political party behind him.

One can sense the excitement and growing confidence
the American settlers must have felt as Paine demolished the myth of the
monarchy, beginning with William the Conqueror – "A French bastard landing
with an armed banditti, and establishing himself King of England against the
consent of the natives." He then went on to belittle "…the folly of
hereditary right in kings." He argued for the separation of church and
state, went on to discuss America’s economic, military and naval potential and
suggested a framework for American self-government. After reading the pamphlet
the vast majority of working-class Americans, and even many of the social
elite, were convinced that complete independence was the only way forward for
their country. Paine’s achievement was swift and irreversible. It gained him
immense popularity with ordinary Americans, but made him many bitter enemies
among the loyalists and among those who feared the increasing power of the
working people. There followed a concerted effort by many of the social elite
to attack Common Sense, leading to an intense war of words in the
Pennsylvania press between Paine and his many detractors, especially John Adams
(not to be confused with John Quincy Adams), who developed a lifelong hatred for
him. But now the people’s demand for independence could not be stopped.
Washington wrote to his secretary, Joseph Reed: "…by private letters I have
lately received from Virginia, I find ‘Common Sense’ is working a powerful
change in the minds of men." On July 4th, 1776, Congress adopted
the Declaration of Independence.

These are the times that try men’s souls

That year Paine enlisted in the militia and became
aide to General Nathaniel Greene¸ arguably the best general on either side.
Washington was now Commander-in-Chief of the Continental Army. He was an
imposing personality and was personally brave, but as a field commander he left
much to be desired. To his credit he was aware of his shortcomings, and the
shortcomings of his militia. He enlisted the Prussian officer Friedrich von
Steuben to drill his troops into military efficiency and co-opted the aid of La
Fayette’s French army and De Grasse’s French fleet to help America’s cause.
Astonishingly, considering the availability of an abundance of expert horsemen,
he never developed a cavalry wing to his army. His idea of ‘inspiring’ his men
was to threaten them with hanging if they showed cowardice in battle, hardly
the hallmark of a great leader. It was his good fortune that he had an able
subordinate in Greene and that his British counterpart, Howe, allowed himself
to be distracted from the job in hand by his American mistress.

By the end of the year the outlook was bleak for
America’s cause: Washington’s army was in retreat and soldiers were deserting
their units every day; Congress had fled from Philadelphia, fearing its
occupation by British troops and everyone was anticipating defeat. Everyone
except Thomas Paine. In his American Crisis (the first of many with that
title) he penned the stirring words that were to fan the flames of American
patriotism: These are the times that try men’s souls: The summer soldier and
the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of his
country; but he that stands it NOW, deserves the love and thanks of man and
woman.

The American Crisis sold in tens of thousands, boosted morale, revived recruitment and
turned the tide of battle. Washington ordered his officers to read Crisis to
his troops. The troops listened to Paine’s words, crossed the Delaware, routed
the Hessian troops and captured Trenton. The situation had been completely
turned around. As with Common Sense, Paine never took a penny from the
profits of his writing, he gave it all to provide clothing for the troops.
Throughout the Revolutionary War he devoted himself tirelessly to the cause,
serving in various posts and issuing pamphlets, continuously rousing the
flagging morale of the Americans: Those who expect to reap the blessings of
freedom, must like men, undergo the fatigues of supporting it.

When Washington’s depleted army was taking refuge in
Valley Forge and Congress was questioning his ability to command, it was Paine
who came to his defence – a loyalty that was not reciprocated by Washington
when Paine later needed his help. He also endeavoured to patch up teething
problems in the young and growing nation, advising on territorial disputes,
taxation and other matters of government. Totally devoted to the cause of
independence he even sailed, at his own expense, on a diplomatic mission to
France on America’s behalf,

On October 19, 1781, the British forces under General
Cornwallis were decisively beaten by combined French and American troops.
Britain’s cloak of invincibility was torn to shreds and it was the beginning of
the end for the first mighty British Empire. America was the first
revolutionary state to defeat a great European power – the war ended with the
Treaty of Paris in April, 1783.

The far seeing Paine was still anxious about the
future of the union, realising that many Americans took it too lightly. He
feared that some states might, for reasons such as slavery and commerce, decide
to break away and go it alone: "I ever feel myself hurt when I hear the
union, that great palladium of our liberty and safety, the least irreverently
spoken of. It is the most sacred thing in the constitution of America." And
the declared purpose of the ‘Union of the States’: "To see it in our power
to make a world happy, to teach mankind the art of being so, to exhibit, on the
theatre of the Universe a character hitherto unknown."

The Rights of Man

‘I wonder you did
not hang that scoundrel Paine for his blackguard libel on king, lords, and
commons. I suppose the extreme scurrility of the pamphlet, or the villainy of
those who wish to disperse it among the common people, has carried through so
many editions. For it appears to me to have no merit whatever; but it may do
mischief in ale-houses in England, and even more in whiskey-houses in Ireland.
I think it by far the most treasonable book that ever went unpunished within my
knowledge; so, pray, hang the fellow if you can catch him.’ Lord Mornington.

The war was over. Thomas Paine had given his all to the revolution; the
proceeds from his writings had gone to help the war effort and now he was
jobless and without an income. He petitioned Congress for a modest pension in
acknowledgement of his contribution to the war’s success. He had the support of
Franklin, Jefferson and Washington. But he had also made some
powerful enemies and they were not going to make life easy for him. His fight
for democracy, his egalitarianism, his zealous opposition to corruption had
earned him the implacable enmity and undying hatred of many in the rich,
landowning ‘aristocracy’ of America. So Congress rejected his petition but
agreed to a grant of $3,000 – he would have been much, much richer if he’d kept
the proceeds from his writings. Pennsylvania gave him a gift of $500 and New
York gave him a farm which had been confiscated from a Tory landowner. He now
had breathing space to contemplate his future.

As a young man Paine had learned a lot about science and engineering by reading
and attending lectures; he decided to put his knowledge to practical use. He
designed an iron bridge which he believed was safer and more durable than the
traditional wooden bridges of his day. But no one in America was willing to
invest in his project so, on Franklin’s advice, he sailed for London and Paris
to seek backing. He expected to be away for a few months; it was to be sixteen
years before he saw his beloved America again.

It was 1787, just two years before the storming of the
Bastille. Things were changing in France – and in England. In France the poor
and the middle-classes were seething with anger at the heavy taxation they
suffered while the nobility shared little or none of the burden of running the
country. Soldiers returning from America spoke of the more just and democratic
society that was growing in the new republic and this made the French masses
determined to build a more just society for themselves. Their anger would soon
turn into a terrible, unstoppable rage which would eventually give rise to the
‘reign of terror’.

England at that time was the most industrially
advanced and commercially successful nation in the world, but its people paid a
terrible price: the momentum of the industrial revolution led to merciless
exploitation, inhuman working conditions and a wretched, poverty-stricken
existence for the working-class. There was talk on the streets of equality and
democratic rights; the ruling class was getting nervous.

Paine spent two years trying to find investors for his
bridge, while inevitably involving himself in the turbulent politics of the
times. Then on July 14, 1789, the crowds stormed the Bastille and soon
afterwards began invading the great estates of the landowning aristocracy. The
next twenty-five years of European history would be written in blood as the
‘ancien regime’ struggled to maintain the status quo.

It was Thomas Paine’s dream that the revolutionary
zeal which had crossed the Atlantic to France would quickly spread throughout
Europe, creating republics in place of monarchies, each republic working in
harmony with its neighbours to create a humane and civilized Europe – "To
begin the world anew."

The turncoat Edmund Burke, who had originally
championed the American Revolution, was now paid by the British Government to
write Reflections on the Revolution in France, which was to give him the
reputation as the father of modern conservatism. Marx was to say of Burke: "The
sycophant – who in pay of the English oligarchy played the romantic laudator
temporis acti (praiser of times past – reactionary) against the French
Revolution just as, in the pay of North American colonies at the beginning of
the American troubles, he had played the liberal against the English oligarchy,
was an out and out vulgar bourgeois."

Burke’s condemnation of the French Revolution was
considered to be a great success but it really was a wasted exercise: it was
aimed at the upper-classes and the well educated, preaching loyalty for the
monarchy and the aristocracy. It was preaching to the converted. And that was
the difference between his writing and Paine’s. Paine had the ability to
communicate with all levels of society, from the poorest to the richest:
Burke’s Reflections sold 20,000 copies in a year, whereas Common
Sense sold several times that in a month. There were many radicals in
England who took issue with Burke but, not surprisingly, the most effective
reply came from Paine’s Rights of Man.

Burke’s ridiculous argument, that monarchy and the
aristocracy had served past generations well and that the present and future
generations should perpetuate this tradition, was rubbished by Paine. Burke not
only denied that the people of England had the right to choose or reject their
own government, but also claimed: "That the people of England utterly
disclaim such a right, and that they will resist the practical assertion of it
with their lives and fortunes."

Paine replied: "That men should take up arms, and
spend their lives and fortunes not to maintain their rights, but to maintain
they have no rights, is an entire new species of discovery, and suited to the
paradoxical genius of Mr. Burke."

The establishment’s ‘intellectual champion’ was no
match for Paine. He tore apart Burke’s arguments with the same irrefutable
logic and scathing sarcasm that had defeated so many of his political
adversaries in the past. He also encouraged the spirit of revolution in Britain
by advocating a system of graduated taxation on the wealthy that would provide
child education; pensions for the aged; maternity benefits and other proposals
for helping the poor and unemployed. He was a man ahead of his time. But most
audacious of all – he defiantly called for the establishment of a British
Republic! This was too much – freedom of speech was guaranteed in England of
course, but only if you said the right things – it was time to hang Tom Paine!

On September 14th, 1792, Paine, who had
been elected to the new National Convention in France for the purpose of
writing a new constitution, left England on a boat bound for Calais. It was a
fortuitous departure: Pitt’s government was poised to vent its wrath upon their
tormentor, but now he was out of their grasp. In vindictive fury they conducted
a witch-hunt, persecuting and imprisoning everyone involved in publishing,
selling and in any way promoting Paine’s writings. Paine was tried in his
absence and found guilty of seditious libel for writing ‘The Rights of Man’.

The French Revolution

He arrived in Calais to a hero’s welcome and its
citizens elected him their representative to the new National Convention. These
were perilous times for the people of France: surrounded by hostile nations,
they were at war with Austria and Prussia, and Louis XVI was in prison for
colluding with the enemy. Perhaps even worse, the republicans were split into
two factions: Girondins (moderates) and Jacobins (radicals). It was only a
matter of time before the revolution began to ‘devour its own children’.

At the Convention he and the other delegates voted to
abolish the monarchy and France was declared a Republic. He was then appointed
to the committee responsible for drafting a new constitution. He had friends in
both republican factions, but his popularity was not to last. Although Paine
loathed the monarchy he opposed the execution of Louis XVI. He proposed instead
that Louis be exiled to America, where he would be unable to meddle in France’s
affairs. He had been sickened by the concept of capital punishment when, as a
child growing up in Thetford, he witnessed the horrifying spectacle of poor
working-class people being hanged for stealing a mere pittance: there was a
clear view of Thetford’s Gallows Hill from the house he grew up in. But in
voting against the death penalty for Louis he angered many Jacobins, especially
the ruthless and uncompromising Robespierre. And Robespierre was about to come
into power.

In the ensuing power struggle the Jacobins emerged
victorious and showed no mercy to their political opponents; the Reign of
Terror commenced. On December 28th, 1793, Paine was arrested. There
is no doubt that it would have taken just one word from George Washington to
obtain his release, but Washington remained silent: he was keen to resume trade
with England and he knew the British establishment wanted to see Paine dead.
Business and commerce came before loyalty and friendship to the politically
pragmatic Washington. This perfidy must have astonished as well as embittered
Paine: Washington had previously been a loyal supporter of Paine and had given
him great credit for his part in America’s victory over Britain. Equally
treacherous was the American Minister to France, Gouverneur Morris. He could
have effected Paine’s release with little effort, but had no intention of doing
so. Morris, who believed that no decent civilization could exist without an
aristocracy, would have been delighted to see Tom Paine’s head roll – and it
almost did.

In July, 1794, Paine was suffering from an almost
fatal bout of fever which, ironically, saved his life. The day before he was
due to be executed his cell mates asked that the cell door be left open to
allow the air to circulate and cool the fever. When the prison officers came to
mark the doors of the condemned prisoners, Paine’s door was opened wide, with
the inside of the door now facing outwards and the outside face of the door
tight against the wall. Because of this the inside of the door was marked by
the prison officers. When the door was closed later that night the ‘condemned’
mark was on the inside of the cell and was not seen by the executioners who
came to collect their victims next morning. Thus, by sheer chance, Tom Paine
missed his appointment with death. Before his execution could be rescheduled
his persecutor was overthrown and it was Robespierre’s head that tumbled into
the executioner’s basket.

Some historians claim that Washington did nothing to
save Paine because he was unaware of his plight; this is naïve, Paine himself
had no doubts about Washington’s treachery. He remained imprisoned until Morris
was replaced by James Monroe, who obtained his release on November 5th.
Still severely ill, he was looked after by Monroe and his wife at their
official residence.

Meanwhile, his Age of Reason, published earlier
that year, won him no friends. Paine was by this time a Deist, believing in God
but not in organized religion. He enraged church leaders by criticizing the
bible, saying of the Old Testament: " a history of grossest
vices and a collection of the most paltry and contemptible tales." Referring
to the New Testament he described Christ as a virtuous man, a reformer and a
revolutionist, but dismissed the Immaculate Conception and Christ’s
resurrection as fraudulent stories. Age of Reason gave his enemies all
the ammunition they needed to destroy his popularity in that God-fearing age.

Return to America

Relations between Monroe and Paine became strained as
a result of Paine’s hostility to Washington and in 1796 he moved out of
Monroe’s house. He wanted to return to America but French ports were being
blockaded by the British navy so he moved in with the family of Nicolas de
Bonneville, writing articles for de Bonneville’s paper, Bien Informe.
Despite his non-stop political activity he also continued with his passion for
engineering, designing canal systems, bridges and cranes. Then in 1801 Thomas
Jefferson, now president, offered to bring him back to America, a decision that
brought down a torrent of criticism on the president’s head from the political
opposition. On October, 1802, the sixty-five year old Paine arrived in
Baltimore to be met by a storm of abuse from the Federalist (right wing) press.
Although he still had loyal friends he was faced with widespread hostility
wherever he went, but he remained politically active, writing letters
criticizing the Federalist opposition and proposing to Jefferson that the
United States purchase the Louisiana Territory.

In 1803 Margaret de Bonneville and her three sons
arrived in America: her husband was under surveillance by the French police and
could not leave France, so Paine assumed responsibility for the children’s
education. Despite his fading health and wealth (he had to sell part of his
farm to pay his debts) his pen was in constant use, writing to and for the
press on varied subjects. When Jefferson did buy Louisiana from
France in April 1803 for $15,000,000 it was the biggest land deal ever struck
between two nations: the Louisiana Purchase stretched east to West from the
Mississippi to the Rocky Mountains, North to South from Canada to the Mexican
Gulf. But Jefferson appalled Paine by allowing the establishment of
slavery in the new territory. Bitterly disappointed, he pleaded with the
president to permit black families to leave the ‘slave states’ and settle
there. But Jefferson rejected his pleas and the curse of slavery was
perpetuated until, sixty years later, it tore the country apart.

In his final years his condition became pitiful:
his health reduced him to a shadow of his once indefatigable self, and he was
kept alive by the charity of friends; he was even refused the right to vote on
the grounds that he was not a true American. This last insult, coming after the
treacherous treatment meted out to him by Washington and Morris, must have been
devastating: the man who was known as ‘the voice of the revolution’, the man
who had done more than any man alive to inspire and motivate the people of
America to free their young country from the shackles of British imperialism
was turned away at the polling station. He spent his last days in the rented
house of the de Bonneville family, where he died on the morning of June 8th,
1809. On his deathbed he was approached by Presbyterian ministers who asked him
to accept the Christian Church; defiant to the end, he gave them short shrift.
He was buried next day, with few to mourn him, at his New Rochelle farm, having
been refused burial at the Quaker cemetery.

Lest we forget

‘To all these champions of the oppressed Paine set an
example of courage, humanity and single-mindedness. When public issues were
involved, he forgot personal prudence. The world decided, as it usually does in
such cases, to punish him for his lack of self-seeking; to this day his fame is
less than it should have been if his character had been less generous. Some
worldly wisdom is required even to secure praise for the lack of it’. Bertrand Russell: The Fate of Thomas Paine

Russell is correct in saying that Paine is less
prominent in history’s hall of fame than most of his less worthy
contemporaries: both as a human being and as a contributor to the momentous
political events of his time he stood head and shoulders above all of them. A
tireless seeker of justice and truth, a dedicated champion of ordinary working
people, he was generations ahead of his time in his political thinking. Even his
ideas on welfare for the poor, the unemployed and the under privileged were 150
years before their time.

But it is not merely his lack of self interest which
accounts for his lack of historical acclaim: since his death there has been a
conscious attempt by the political establishments of Britain and the USA to
underplay his contribution to 18th and 19th century
history and to slur his reputation (Theodore Roosevelt called him a ‘dirty
little atheist’ although he was no such thing). His lucid and logical ideas on
the governance of nations would embarrass the corrupt excuses for so-called
democratic governments which prevail in the USA, Britain and the rest of Europe
today. Likewise his anti-clericalism and his criticism of organised religion
with all its hypocritical ‘pomp and circumstance’ has incurred the indignant
wrath of all branches of the religious establishment in Europe and America, and
his anti-monarchist views did nothing to endear him to the British
establishment.

Thus the man who was a household name in America,
Britain, Ireland and France in his lifetime, and whose fame was more widespread
than even Jefferson, Franklin or Washington, has been deliberately shunted into
the sidelines of the history of his era. True, American presidents occasionally
quote him, usually out of context, when it suits them. But his name will not be
found on the list of Founding Fathers of the USA despite his enormous
contribution to the cause of American independence. As for England, there are
relatively few in the land of his birth today who have even heard of him.

But things are changing: Richard Attenborough recently
expressed an ambition to film his life story. In the USA, whenever the people
question what their political leaders really stand for, his reputation experiences
a revival. In Morristown, New Jersey, a monument has been erected to him; his Common
Sense has been listed as number one in historian E.F. Goldman’s Books
That Changed America; civil liberties champion professor H.S. Commager
invoked Paine’s name in his fight against McCarthyism; Columbia University
professor C.W. Mills (who died tragically young) put Paine on a par with Max
Weber and Karl Marx.

Thomas Paine was a truly great man who used his
genius as a writer to fight for a better life for ordinary working people, a
cause to which he dedicated his life. No other writer had such a dramatic and
immediate impact on the political events of his time. No other man before or
since has proved so effectively that words are weapons, and that the pen is indeed
mightier than the sword.