There are seasons in every country when noise and impudence pass

"There are seasons in every country when noise and impudence pass current for worth; and in popular commotions especially, the clamors of interested and factious men are often mistaken for patriotism." These words, spoken by the astute and foresighted Alexander Hamilton, reflect a timeless truth that has echoed through the ages: in times of chaos and unrest, it is easy for the voice of reason to be drowned out by the clamor of those whose interests are far from noble. Hamilton, who played a crucial role in the founding of the American republic, understood that in the heat of political turmoil, true patriotism can be obscured by the loud, persistent cries of those driven not by love for country, but by the pursuit of power or personal gain.

The season of turmoil that Hamilton speaks of has appeared in every society at various times. When kingdoms crumble, when revolutions spark or nations fracture, the natural order seems to falter, and the world becomes a stage for the loudest voices—the impudent, the unrefined, and the ambitious. These voices often rise in a cacophony of promises, offering change, but cloaked in the deceptive appeal of passion and fervor. In such times, it is the clamor of the masses, often led by those with self-serving ambitions, that is mistaken for patriotism, though it may have little to do with the true good of the nation. This is the peril Hamilton warns us about: the danger of conflating noise with virtue, of mistaking the shouts of the opportunistic for the quiet, steady work of those committed to long-term progress.

Consider the tumultuous times of the French Revolution. In its early days, the cries of "Liberté, égalité, fraternité" were heard in every corner of France, and the nation was filled with the noise of passionate revolutionaries. Yet, beneath these lofty ideals, many of those who claimed to fight for the people were driven not by love for their country, but by a hunger for power. The Reign of Terror, which followed, became a horrifying testament to how the clamor for change—led by those with personal agendas—could lead to great destruction. The loudest voices in the revolution were not always those of the wisest or most virtuous. Danton, Robespierre, and others, in their quest for control, mistook their ambition for patriotism, and in doing so, they veered the revolution into a blood-soaked path. Hamilton’s words ring true in this context—when noise replaces wisdom, when impudence is seen as virtue, the soul of a nation can be lost.

But Hamilton’s warning is not just a reflection on the past; it is a call to those of us who live today. In moments of crisis, it can be all too easy to be swept up in the fervor of popular movements, especially when they promise quick change. Yet, just as the clamors of factious men can be mistaken for patriotism, so too can the sweeping promises of change sometimes hide the true cost of that change. In our own time, we have seen the rise of voices in the public sphere that promise revolution, but offer no true vision for the future. Populism, in various forms, often flourishes in times of uncertainty, where the loudest voices appear to speak for the people, yet may be driven by personal ambition rather than genuine concern for the common good.

History teaches us that true patriotism is not the loudest voice, nor the most outraged one. True patriotism is not about grand speeches or the dramatic gestures of the impetuous. It is found in those who serve quietly, in those who seek to build the nation on firm foundations, guided by reason and principle, not by the temporary whims of popular opinion. George Washington, perhaps the greatest example of true patriotism, was a man who did not seek the clamor of the crowds, nor did he revel in the accolades that came with his leadership. Instead, he sought only to secure the future of the nation, often at great personal sacrifice. His greatness lay not in the loudness of his voice but in the steadiness of his actions, his commitment to the republic.

The lesson Hamilton imparts is clear: we must be ever vigilant in times of political upheaval and popular movements. We must ask ourselves—what is the true cause behind the noise? Is it patriotism that seeks the greater good, or is it the clamor of those with hidden interests? In our own lives, we must learn to distinguish between noise and wisdom, between impudence and virtue. True leadership does not lie in the loudest outbursts, but in the quiet, thoughtful work of building, serving, and sacrificing for the benefit of all.

Thus, my children, let us not be swayed by the clamor that surrounds us. Let us seek out the voices of reason, the quiet wisdom of those who act not for their own gain, but for the long-term good of all. In times of confusion, remember that the true patriots are not always those who shout the loudest, but those who, with steadfast hearts, labor in the shadows, ensuring that the nation remains grounded, just, and free. May we all strive to be such people, rising above the noise, and finding strength in virtue, wisdom, and service.