For the third day in a row, the Philadelphia Inquirer has been promoting a newly evolved "SACRED GROUND" meme -- the idea that soil once occupied by colonial slaves is sacred. Central to this belief (at least in Philadelphia) is the idea that slaves belonging to George Washington ought to be considered important historical characters deserving official commemoration as part of the country's founding.

I understand the importance of every aspect of history, and while I wonder whether it is helpful that children be taught to rattle off the names of George Washington's Philadelphia slaves, I will name them here and link each name with a biography: Oney Judge, Moll, Austin, Hercules, Richmond, Giles, Paris, Christopher Sheels, and Joe (Richardson).

The above nine are highlighted here in the "sacred ground" series, and when I discussed Part I ("Remaking History"), I quoted the park superintendent's gently provocative observation:

"We are pleased now also to have the tangible connections to relate the stories of many individuals previously not as well represented, such as James Dexter, all the free and enslaved Africans at the President's House including Oney Judge and Hercules, and, I hope, Martha Washington and Abigail Adams who also occupied the President's House," she said.

How many of the kids who learn the names and stories of Washington's nine Philadelphia slaves will learn the names and stories of the first nine presidents? Or, say, the names of even as few as nine of the signers of the Declaration of Independence who convened here in 1776?

I suspect that very few of them would. That's because there's a dominant new ideology the Inquirer proudly links and promotes in the hard copy and online editions which claims that black Americans are "descendants of the victims of the greatest holocaust in the history of humankind."

This greatest holocaust is considered part and parcel of the American founding. That's what needs to be most remembered on July 4. (Is it a coincidence, or might this series be timed to coincide with that date?) I'm wondering also how many children will be taught that of the 9-12 million Africans transported to the New World as part of this greatest of all holocausts, only 3.3% (399,000) were brought to the British North American colonies (the vast majority going to the West Indies and Brazil).

I'm not sure that it's entirely accurate to call this process "ideology" as I just did, because even though it's ideological, mythology also plays a strong role. There were slaves at the time of the founding, and there is no dispute that what was done to them was terrible. I was moved when I read the story of Oney Judge's escape and her later life, and the biographies of all nine of Washington's Philadelphia slaves are interesting to anyone who enjoys history.

But with all respect to these slaves, how central are they to the country's founding? Isn't that what the 4th of July is about?

I'm sure I sound like a crank prattling on about the importance of the actual founders and the names of early presidents. Doubtless those who think the founders perpetrated the "greatest holocaust in the history of humankind" would consider the country's founding to be an exercise in hypocrisy to be laid bare for the world to condemn. (Especially those lucky countries which largely escape blame for the fate of the other 96% of the transported Africans.) It's just that it bothers me to see a leading newspaper like the Inquirer handing itself over to what is at minimum questionable historical revisionism.

Still, I realize that mythology has long occupied a major (and, I think, regrettable) role in this country's history. For example, I was shocked when I learned that the cherry tree story was made up, and it is no exaggeration to say that this was my earliest encounter with the deep and abiding cynicism which plagues me to this day.

Think about it. The national "cherry tree" myth revolved around the importance of never telling a lie. ("I cannot tell a lie. I did it with my little hatchet.") And that story was a myth. A lie promulgated both as a moral lesson for children and to help enshrine what can only be called a personality cult.

However, now that I am older and have been corrupted by the wisdom of experience, I take a more nuanced view of boy George and the cherry tree. Maybe I even have mixed feelings. But this is tired, and I know I'm repeating myself:

When I learned that there had been no cherry tree, and that the whole story of George with his little hatchet and "I cannot tell a lie, father!" was made up, I became indignant. A hell of a way to teach honesty, I thought. It bothered the hell out of me, and did much to instill a certain contempt for "hypocrisy" which took years to go away (and which may haunt me for the rest of my life). I mean really! Put yourself in my position as a child: if (I reasoned childishly) our national morality tale about the value of always telling the truth turns out to be a lie, what does that suggest about other things that might be a lie?

Hell, I'm lucky I didn't grow up to be a full-scale Deconstructionist!

I hate to say this, but what saved me was the realization as I grew older that it is possible for a story to be "false but accurate." No one imagines that a race was ever run between Aesop's imaginary turtle and the hare, any more than the ant and grasshopper have widely divergent, um, "value systems." It might not have been a good idea to graft George Washington into a myth, but there is nothing wrong with a boy admitting to his father that he did wrong.

But every time I try to get out, they draaaag me back in. And with the sacred ground/greatest-holocaust meme, the Inquirer is tempting my darker, Deconstructionist side.

I don't want to sound arrogant, but I have to admit that for years I thought the cherry tree story was little more than schmaltzy drivel written for children (or maybe for childishly moronic adults). As Americans became more educated, they demythologized their history, and rejected such errant tales.

My worry here is that elevating individual slaves to central national importance and promoting a greater holocaust theory is just more of the same. (Along the lines of "You had your mythology; now it's our turn!")

Having said that, the hard-boiled small "l" libertarian realist in me has to recognize that from Philadelphia's economic standpoint, this revisionism is not necessarily a bad thing. If we put aside the issue of whether one form of ideologically-motivated mythology deserves another (and even whether there really is no such thing as historical truth), this stuff seems to be good for Philadelphia tourism. At least, so says the Inquirer:

For decades Judge's story went untold at Independence National Historical Park, site of the President's House, where the Washingtons lived with Judge, eight other slaves, and a group of servants. But controversy fueled in 2002 by the park's silence revived the unspoken story of Judge and many others, giving voice to their narratives.

Now a park memorial is planned for the house site at Sixth and Market. A sheaf of new stories, such as Judge's, will be told there, and are being woven into programs and talks throughout the park as officials seek to broaden the presentation of 18th-century life, revising and amplifying the story of the nation's founding in the process.

"This is a marketing society and, in a cynical sense, black tourism is growing and there is a strong desire from black tourists for black history," said Sharon Ann Holt, program director for the Mid-Atlantic Regional Center for the Humanities at Rutgers. "I don't think that's necessarily a negative. This story is hot.

"But where that hotness is coming from is a new mobilization of black folk looking for history not just to worship, but history they can use. African American history retains its political core. They understand that knowing the past becomes important to shaping the present and the future. That's big. That's not cynical."

Likewise, I'm hardly the first to acknowledge that the importance of "knowing the past" is not a cynical idea. However, while there's no denying that knowing about Washington's nine Philadelphia slaves is part of "knowing the past," the unfortunate reality is that some figures in history are more central than others.

Notwithstanding the stated goal of avenging one's "ancestors," and the temptation to say that one cherry tree deserves another, the guy who cooked Washington's food is simply not as important as the first president. Nor is he as important as even the most obscure of the founders (take Button Gwinnett as an example).

To suggest otherwise only encourages cynicism, and invites cycles of deconstruction.