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America at 250: A Mirror to 1976?
By Yogesh
The nation feels… a bit off, doesn’t it? Inflation is biting, gas prices are making wallets weep, and the culture wars seem to be perpetually raging. Add to that a president struggling with public approval, and you might be forgiven for thinking we’ve taken a trip back in time.
Except, we haven’t. We’re looking at America at its 250th, but in many ways, it feels like we’re also reliving America at 200.
As the United States gears up for its 250th anniversary, a glance back just fifty years to 1976 – the year of the nation’s bicentennial – reveals striking parallels with our current moment. Swap out Richard Nixon for Donald Trump, Vietnam for Iran, and Watergate for the troubling use of the Justice Department to favor allies and punish adversaries, and you’ve got a pretty uncanny resemblance between 1976 and 2026.
"The parallels are eerie: international conflict, domestic strife, political turmoil, partisan division, and economic instability," notes Marc Stein, a historian at San Francisco State University.
Leading up to this 250th milestone, we connected with several historians to capture their insights on the national mood during both anniversary periods and to explore how these commemorations stack up.
According to Stein, in both 1976 and 2026, the U.S. is marking an anniversary amidst "major crises of confidence about national values, vices, and virtues, and about the past, present, and future of national greatness."
However, the zeitgeist of these two eras does diverge in certain respects, most notably in the degree of partisan polarization, which is widely considered to be significantly higher today.
How Did We Celebrate the Bicentennial Back Then?
In recent weeks, we’ve seen a number of musical acts withdraw from a series of 250th anniversary concerts slated for the National Mall. The artists cited the event’s politicization, a sentiment echoed when Trump suggested he might hold a political rally instead.
Other 250th anniversary events, many organized by groups with close ties to Trump, have included a UFC event on the White House lawn and a religious gathering on the National Mall.
This top-down, presidential approach to national celebrations isn’t entirely novel; it’s how the bicentennial unfolded too.
Planning commenced a full decade earlier, in 1966, with President Lyndon B. Johnson establishing a bipartisan commission to orchestrate the commemoration. Johnson envisioned a World’s Fair, echoing the 1876 centennial in Philadelphia. But within two years, Johnson was out of office.
When Nixon took the helm, he appointed "political cronies and longtime supporters" to the commission, as M.J. Rymsza-Pawlowska, a historian at American University and author, wrote in an essay on the bicentennial.
Before long, critics argued that Nixon was shaping the bicentennial to center himself and his 1972 campaign. The committee was deemed "corrupt and unwieldy" by some. Meanwhile, groups like the Black Panther Party and the American Indian Movement protested that the effort paid insufficient attention to the histories of racial and ethnic minorities. This led to the emergence of alternative bicentennial organizing committees.
Eventually, facing criticism, the Nixon administration shifted its strategy, adopting a more hands-off approach. They began distributing funds to local groups without rigid federal mandates, aiming to empower communities to undertake historical projects that resonated with them.
While some events had a national scope – including a parade of tall ships, a reverse wagon train journey from west to east, and a July 4th fireworks display – the majority were decidedly local. These ranged from the restoration of a railroad station in Ogden, Utah, to preserving a historic one-room schoolhouse at Bowling Green State University in Ohio, and establishing a Seafood Heritage Trail in Biloxi, Mississippi.
A study by the General Accounting Office, Congress’s investigative arm at the time, cataloged "1,766 historical re-enactments, beauty pageants, tree plantings and an ‘oldtime fiddlers’ contest’," noted David Skinner, a former editor at the National Endowment for the Humanities, in a recent piece for The Wall Street Journal. Unlike today, bicentennial imagery was ubiquitous, appearing in the most unexpected places. Various archival collections attest to the wide array of consumer goods emblazoned with bicentennial themes, from popcorn buckets to dry cleaner hangers and diaper bags.
The spirit of historical discovery was palpable, fueling activities like genealogical research and captivating television blockbusters such as the slavery saga "Roots."
Rymsza-Pawlowska shared with PolitiFact that the way the bicentennial celebration evolved – leaning more towards "pluribus" (many) than "unum" (one) – perfectly captured the nation’s mood. Beginning in the 1960s, "an entire generation of people became interested in their communities and in self-determination, and that’s the way the celebration ended up."
Especially after Nixon’s resignation in 1974 and Gerald Ford’s succession, the presidential role in the celebration became less about triumphalism and more about modesty.
Ford "focused on the founders and spoke of America’s founding values, which was generally well received," commented Daniel Williams, a historian at Ashland University. "He certainly did not emphasize himself."
Historians suggest Trump’s approach is a stark contrast.
"Today, the carnival atmosphere of cage fights on the White House lawn and a concert that everyone seems to be backing out of tells you all you need to know," stated James Robenalt, a lawyer and scholar of the Watergate era. "There is no serious look at the nation or its complicated history."
Democrats, meanwhile, "are fearful that participating in any of these celebrations is a kind of de facto celebration of Trump," said Vincent Cannato, a historian at the University of Massachusetts Boston.
Was 1976 More Optimistic Than 2026?
In 1976, Americans weren’t necessarily brimming with optimism; the public was grappling with economic and foreign policy concerns, a rapidly rising divorce rate, polarizing racial and gender issues, and a sense of endemic political corruption. However, there was a pervasive feeling that the worst was behind them, according to Robenalt. After the twin trials of Watergate and Vietnam, the fundamental guardrails of democracy and justice had held firm.
Political rhetoric was measured, not caustic. Upon taking office, Ford assured the nation that "our long national nightmare is over." In his acceptance speech at the 1976 Democratic convention, Jimmy Carter, who would go on to defeat Ford, declared, "I say to you that our nation’s best is still ahead."
Historians contend that while Trump often fuels division, the mood in 2026 isn’t solely attributable to him. Today, there’s a more nuanced understanding of history – partly spurred by bicentennial-era research – that embraces diverse perspectives. One such perspective earned the 2020 Pulitzer Prize for commentary: the 1619 Project, which centers on the year slavery began in what would become the United States.
The project, described by the Pulitzer citation as "sweeping" and "provocative," aimed to "reframe the country’s history by placing the consequences of slavery and the contributions of black Americans at the very center of our national narrative." This approach challenged the traditional framing of the American experiment in 1776. While some prominent historians argued it contained factual errors, it ignited an intense, and at times ideologically charged, debate over what should be considered the dominant theme of America’s founding.
This sharp debate in recent years stands in stark contrast to 1976, a period when "the founding was less divisive," observed Kermit Roosevelt, a law professor at the University of Pennsylvania and author.
One of the ironies of the 2026 celebration, Rymsza-Pawlowska points out, is that many of its most valuable offerings are heavily reliant on infrastructure established for the 1976 bicentennial, which has since become institutionalized – including local history organizations, libraries, academic research centers, and graduate scholarships.
"It is no coincidence," she wrote, "that so many public history institutions and initiatives were founded in the mid-1970s; this is a result of both the excitement and the opportunities afforded by the commemoration."