On what was likely a crisp autumn day in Philadelphia in 1774—before muskets and Minutemen—the American colonies chose diplomacy. They sent a carefully crafted petition to King George III, born out of frustration and hope, as a final effort to mend a relationship that had been fraying for years.
Their grievances? Numerous.
Following the French and Indian War, the British stationed a standing army in the colonies without the approval of colonial assemblies—a symbol of oppression that fueled resentment. This military presence enforced unpopular taxes and laws that the colonists had no say in creating. Worse still, British commanders were given supreme authority over civil governments, even during peacetime, eroding the colonists’ belief in self-rule. In some colonies, military officials were even appointed as governors, blending the roles of soldier and ruler—a troubling sign of the erosion of civilian power. New government positions fostered rampant corruption, and judges enforcing harsh trade laws profited from the fines they imposed. Colonial judges, financially dependent on the Crown, found impartial justice elusive.
Customs officers were granted unchecked power to search homes and businesses without warrants, turning private property into a hunting ground for Crown revenue. Colonists were denied trial by jury and could be sent across the Atlantic to stand trial in England. Parliament also allowed offenses in America to be tried by Crown-loyal judges, where colonial defendants faced almost guaranteed harsh, biased sentences.
The boiling point came with the Intolerable Acts. The Boston Port Act closed one of the colonies’ most vital economic lifelines, while the Massachusetts Government Act dissolved local self-governance. Meanwhile, the Quebec Act extended Quebec’s boundaries, reinstating French civil law and promoting Roman Catholicism in lands the colonists believed were theirs—a territorial and religious affront.
The petition’s core message? Stop taxing us without our consent, please.
British lawmakers seemed intent on squeezing the colonies dry, imposing duties on everything from tea to paper. The colonists reminded the king: “Duties are imposed on us for the purpose of raising a revenue.”
The petition ended with a simple plea: “We ask but for peace, liberty, and safety.” If this was King George’s chance to ease tensions, he missed it. Presented by Benjamin Franklin, the petition was swiftly rejected by Parliament and the Crown, pushing the colonies ever closer to war.
While few might see similarities between 1774 and 2024, echoes of those grievances resound today. Without the consent of the governed, Congress has issued billions of taxpayer dollars to Ukraine. Meanwhile, FEMA has spent billions on migrants while leaving hurricane victims underserved, and the current administration has allowed millions of illegal migrants into the country. Free housing has sprung up across the nation for these migrants, with some corporations playing a role. We might also worry about the threat of being sent overseas to face trial, as UK officials seek to prosecute hate speech across borders. Similarly, many Americans may wonder where the heads of inner-city judges are at, as they prioritize the rights of criminals over the safety of law-abiding citizens.
The colonists’ petition ended with a plea for “peace, liberty, and safety.” These three rights remain the simple desires of every generation of Americans—not to foment revolution, but to remind our government that the consent of the governed is still required to preserve those same basic rights.
Art by Beck & Stone
This article was originally published at www.mindingthecampus.org
