With the celebrations over, a hard question remains: What does history ask of us when we must act before we know how events will turn out?

In Thomas Jefferson’s rough draft of the Declaration of Independence, he first wrote “our fellow subjects.” While the ink was wet, he erased “subjects” and wrote “citizens” over it.

The sentence did not survive into the final Declaration, but the revision captured the transformation underway. People who had lived under a crown were beginning to imagine themselves as members of a self-governing community.

Jefferson and the other delegates knew independence would change their lives. They did not know whether the Revolution would succeed, whether the colonies would remain united, or what government would follow.

We see their decision after the uncertainty has vanished. For them, the outcome was unknown.

Once outcomes are known, the events leading toward them look more orderly than they were. Successful movements appear destined to succeed. Institutions that endured seem stronger than they felt at the time.

Future generations will know how today’s questions were resolved. Less obvious will be how uncertain the future seemed to us.

History’s arc becomes visible backward. Forward, it consists of choices.

When the United States marked its Bicentennial in 1976, I was in Boston for the celebrations. What I remember most is a country searching for civic renewal.

Vietnam had shaken the nation and stripped away assumptions of American invincibility. Watergate and President Richard Nixon’s resignation had damaged faith in government. Americans were asking whether public institutions still deserved their trust.

The Bicentennial offered an opportunity to reconnect with the country’s founding principles. We were looking backward to recover a belief that citizenship mattered and democratic institutions could be repaired.

No one in Boston that summer could see the next 50 years. The Cold War still defined world affairs. The digital revolution, September 11, and today’s fractured information environment lay ahead.

Those developments now appear to form a sequence. In 1976, they were unknown.

The Bicentennial did not complete civic renewal. It reminds us that every generation must take up the work anew.

The Declaration proclaimed equality while slavery endured. Its list of grievances referred to Native peoples as “merciless Indian Savages,” showing how demands for liberty could coexist with the dehumanization of others.

After years of working with tribal nations, I cannot treat that language as incidental. People often perceive injustice clearly when they experience it themselves and remain blind to the injustice their actions impose.

Frederick Douglass later used the Declaration’s principles to expose the hypocrisy of celebrating liberty while millions remained enslaved. His 1852 Fourth of July address held the country accountable to its own founding language.

Intentions matter, but later generations inherit the consequences.

We are not responsible for predicting every outcome. We are responsible for dangers we could see but chose not to confront because addressing them required sacrifice or political courage.

Future generations can ask whether we acted honestly on what was visible, considered the precedents we established, and understood the burdens we passed forward.

A power granted to leaders we trust remains available to leaders we do not. Weakened institutions and environmental risks also become part of what others inherit.

Responsible action requires attention to what our decisions make possible and difficult to reverse. It also requires leaving future generations the ability to correct us.

The people of 1776 could not see the country their choices would create. Those in Boston during the Bicentennial could not see the world we occupy now. We cannot see the society that will look back on us.

The uncertainty surrounding our choices will disappear. Our responsibility for them will remain.

History begins before anyone knows the ending. History is always starting now.

Edward Saltzberg is the executive director of the Security and Sustainability Forum and is a visiting scholar at George Washington University. He wrote this for InsideSources.com.