Don’t Call It “Presidents’ Day”

Today, Americans will enjoy the extra day off work and wish one another a happy “Presidents’ Day.” But that’s not what this holiday is called.

The federal holiday we observe the third Monday of each February is officially to recognize George Washington’s Birthday — and in this 250th year of American independence, that distinction matters even more.

Before the Revolution, it was customary throughout the British Empire to celebrate the king’s birthday. After breaking away from Britain, Americans did not abandon that instinct. George Washington, the indispensable hero of the Revolution, became the natural focal point for a new celebration. His birthday was honored informally for decades before Congress formally designated it a federal holiday in 1879.

Washington was born on February 11, 1731 — at least under the Julian calendar then used by Great Britain and its colonies. In 1752, the British Empire adopted the Gregorian calendar, introduced by Pope Gregory XIII to correct astronomical drift. The shift moved dates forward by 11 days and adjusted the new year to begin on January 1 rather than March 25. As a result, Washington’s birthday came to be recognized as February 22, 1732.

In 1968, Congress passed the Uniform Monday Holiday Act, shifting several federal holidays to Mondays to create three-day weekends. Washington’s Birthday was moved to the third Monday in February. After Americans began widely celebrating Abraham Lincoln’s birthday as well, some lawmakers proposed officially renaming the holiday “Presidents’ Day.” Congress never did, but the name simply stuck through advertising campaigns and popular usage.

But Washington is not just another president. He is the seminal figure of the American experiment, and he deserves a day dedicated to him alone. (Moreover, no matter what side of the political aisle you fall on, all Americans can agree that plenty of presidents aren’t worthy of a day dedicated to them.)

As we approach the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence in 1776, it is impossible to imagine that moment — or the survival of the fragile republic that followed — without Washington.

Yes, he led a ragtag band of militiamen against the most powerful empire in the world. Yes, he crossed the icy Delaware on Christmas night in 1776 to revive a dying revolution. Yes, he endured the brutal winter at Valley Forge and held the army together when it might easily have dissolved.

But those feats, as remarkable as they were, are not what make Washington unique in world history.

What makes him extraordinary is what he refused to do.

In 1783, with the war won and the Continental Army restless over unpaid wages, officers gathered in what became known as the Newburgh Conspiracy. Some openly discussed using military pressure against Congress. The young republic was in danger of sliding into dictatorship before it had even begun.

Washington addressed the officers. After delivering a sober warning about the dangers of undermining civilian government, he reached for a letter and paused. “Gentlemen, you must pardon me,” he said, putting on spectacles none present had ever seen him wear. “I have grown gray in your service and now find myself growing blind.”

That moment isn’t in many history textbooks, but it was nonetheless a turning point in American history. Many officers wept. The conspiracy collapsed. The military submitted to civilian authority. The fledgling republic survived.

Later that same year, Washington did something almost unheard of in history – he resigned his commission as commander-in-chief and returned to his farm at Mount Vernon. Perhaps not since the legendary Roman farmer Cincinnatus a millennia before had a leader with so much power so humbly and willingly walked away from it.

Washington could have made himself king. In fact, some urged him to do so. Never before or since has a single American figure been so universally admired. In 1789 and again in 1792, Washington received 100 percent of the electoral votes cast. In the handful of states that recorded popular votes, he ran essentially unopposed.

Yet Washington was still reluctant even to become president. After two terms, he refused to seek a third, establishing a precedent so powerful it endured for 150 years until Franklin Roosevelt broke it in 1940.

Washington understood that the survival of self-government depended not merely on institutions, but on character. While the Founding Fathers wrote plenty of safeguards into the Constitution to protect against abuses of power, Washington recognized that the country could only survive so long as enough good men were willing to make personal sacrifices for the general welfare of the people.

His Farewell Address remains one of the most remarkable political documents ever written. It is still read aloud annually in the United States Senate. In it, Washington warned against “the baneful effects of the spirit of party,” cautioning that factionalism could open the door to “the alternate domination of one faction over another.” He urged Americans to cherish the Union as “a main pillar in the edifice of your real independence.”

He also warned against foreign entanglements that could entrap the young republic in unnecessary conflicts. These were not partisan talking points. They were the reflections of a man who had risked everything to build something new — and feared how easily it could be lost.

Even during the Revolutionary War, when critics conspired to replace him in the so-called Conway Cabal, Washington responded not with bitterness but with quiet resolve. He absorbed the insult and carried on. No other figure of the time could have navigated those crises with such dignity.

It is not hyperbole to say that America would not have survived its turbulent early years without Washington. His example was the glue holding the Union together — and in many ways, it still is.

In recent years, his name and legacy have been smeared by those eager to recast American history as a story of evil and oppression. But no critic can erase the simple historical truth that Washington’s voluntary surrender of power made republican government possible here, which in turn set the stage for a great flourishing of liberty around the world. His character gave legitimacy to the Constitution that followed.

In a year when we celebrate 250 years since the Declaration of Independence proclaimed that governments derive “their just powers from the consent of the governed,” we would do well to remember the man who proved that principle in action.

So, the next time someone wishes you a happy “Presidents’ Day,” gently remind them that today is not Presidents’ Day – it’s George Washington’s Birthday. And then remember the example of the man who could have been king — but chose instead to be a citizen.

Shane Harris is the Editor-in-Chief of AMAC Newsline. You can follow him on X @shaneharris513.