My senior year at Vanderbilt University, I responded to the op-ed of an “ashamed southerner” in our student newspaper with one of my own. I attacked the modern revisionism that applied 21st Century standards to 19th Century America. Men like Robert E. Lee and Joseph E. Johnston opposed slavery and secession, yet resigned their commissions in the U.S. Army and led Southern forces out of loyalty to Virginia. Many thousands of southerners took up arms in defense of the Confederacy for this very reason, and would have undoubtedly worn Yankee blue had they been born above the Mason-Dixon Line. Loyalty to a single state or region above the nation is a fringe idea today, but in the early days of our Republic, it was pervasive in all corners of the country.

The United States were (plural) incredibly fragile from inception, beset by frequent threats of secession. Much as the election of Lincoln drove the South into rebellion, the election of Jefferson in 1800 nearly drove New England to the same drastic action. Northern Federalists feared Jefferson and the Republicans would damage their commercial interests by favoring southern agriculture and good relations with France over Britain, and erode the quasi-plutocracy that had dominated the country in its first decade. The Hartford Convention of 1814–15 served as the high-water mark for Northern secession, after which successive news of the Treaty of Ghent and Andrew Jackson’s stunning victory at New Orleans effectively killed the movement.

Eventually, Jackson himself would become the standard-bearer for Unionism. He aggressively challenged and defeated proponents of nullification (the original “states’ rights” agitators), including his own vice president John C. Calhoun. Jackson’s acolytes, notably James K. Polk, Sam Houston and Andrew Johnson (all Tennesseans) were fierce advocates for national unity. When war came, slave states Missouri, Kentucky and Maryland would ultimately reject secession. While many Northern Copperheads expressed Southern sympathies in sometimes subversive ways, tens of thousands of Southern Unionists enlisted against the Confederacy. These were complicated men picking sides for a variety of reasons that simply do not resonate with us today.

More than end slavery, which tragically persisted for another century under the guise of Jim Crow, the Civil War enshrined the indivisibility of the United States. Yet, the historical narrative pushed by modern revisionists paints the war almost solely as a conflict over the future of slavery. You need look no further than the Great Emancipator himself to understand that narrative simply isn’t true.

No serious historian would argue Abraham Lincoln was motivated to war by abolitionist passions. He tepidly opposed slavery, believing like many of his contemporaries that the economic system supporting it would ultimately collapse, so long as he could prevent its expansion (less likely after the failure of the Wilmot Proviso). Even his Emancipation Proclamation was born of military strategy, not altruism. Lincoln believed above all else, like Jacksonian Democrats before him, that insolubility of the United States was (singular) non-negotiable. Through his tremendous political and military achievements, Lincoln enshrined “one nation, indivisible” as a core American principle, for which he deserves his rightful place as our greatest president.

President Lincoln ultimately gave his life to defeat the Confederacy and preserve our union. I eventually recognized, for that reason, that states flying Confederate flags at their capitols were engaged in their own form of revisionist history. The Confederacy lost, and its flags should have never again risen in a manner representative of state governments. The flag recently removed from the South Carolina state capitol should have been gone long before June’s tragic murder of nine African-Americans at a black church in Charleston. Yet, we will always remember that South Carolina, Alabama and the other states now tripping over themselves to relocate their statehouse flags did so because the Confederacy is associated with racism, not disunion. And that’s unfortunate.

As southerners, we have only ourselves to blame. We had many opportunities to remove those flags on our own terms, for the right reasons. We should have lowered them for standing in opposition to the political framework President Lincoln and other Union heroes fought to preserve. Special circumstances may warrant exceptions. For instance, Texas maintains Confederate insignia on its seal along with those of the other five nations that have governed the state throughout history. Otherwise, flags of the Confederacy should not represent American authority at the federal, state or municipal level.

Yet, we need to exercise caution as mass hysteria sets in and attempts to purge not only the Confederate flag, but also the men who fought for it, from our other public spaces. Dylann Roof was far from the first to appropriate the flag as a symbol of white supremacism, and I sympathize with African-Americans and others who see it as an offensive symbol. However, for better or worse, this symbol and these men still hold important cultural and historical value, and the mad rush to relegate them to museums, out of sight, is sorely misguided.

Confederate soldiers were still Americans, and although history bears out that they fought for the wrong cause, they still collectively deserve our respect. In reality, they were no worse traitors to the United States than were our patriots to the British crown. Contrary to what our popular narrative might tell us today, few in early 1775 were agitating for an independent nation built on republican virtue.

“Taxation without representation” was a central grievance of the colonists leading to the American Revolution, but it doesn’t tell the full story. Those infamous taxes levied on colonists after the French and Indian War were unfair, but also sought to share the burden of cost associated with defending the colonies during that war. One could also credibly argue that restrictions on reckless colonial expansion into Indian territories and the preservation of slavery played roles in fomenting rebellion. George Washington himself quite possibly only turned decisively against the British after they reneged on land promised to him for service in the previous war. Patriots represented a vast spectrum of political sympathies, ranging from radical republicans to plutocrats and even monarchists.

Our Founding Fathers fought for a variety of motives, some less respectable than others. Did they fight for the right cause? Absolutely. Confederates fought for the wrong one. But we have the hindsight of history to guide us to those conclusions. Siding with patriots over loyalists in 1775 was hardly an easier decision than picking North over South in 1861. These men made complicated choices in complicated times.

Just as we honor our patriots, no matter how flawed in character, we must respect the men who fought for a different founding vision of America. Even if that vision accepted slavery. Confederate memorials, whether or not they fly rebel flags, should remain undisturbed. Streets, schools and military installations should retain their names. Most southern politicians justifying their calls to remove Confederate flags have argued “they belong in a museum.” Well, these memorials and monuments are museums; they showcase history in outdoor spaces.

Can we make specific exceptions? Yes. For instance, a Union state like Kentucky has no business displaying a statue of Confederate president Jefferson Davis. But by and large, these men and symbols are representative of Southern history; we should preserve them in the public’s consciousness so we may seek to learn more about them.

I would also urge caution to corporate entities going off the deep end in an effort to appear socially conscious. Apple has already forced developers to remove all depictions of Confederate flags from their Civil War games. TV Land and Warner Brothers can’t dump the Dukes of Hazzard quickly enough for the crime of showcasing a ’69 Dodge Charger with a Confederate flag painted on its roof. Tech giants Amazon and eBay banned all sales of Confederate merchandise, but apparently determined Hitler and the Third Reich to be sufficiently inoffensive.

Decisions like these may seem harmless, if ridiculous, but they teach us that it’s acceptable to re-imagine history so we might find it more pleasant. They set a dangerous precedent, and we should fear the implications of a cultural shift that sees these actions as just, and even commendable.

Should we demand TV Land pull another classic sitcom, Hogan’s Heroes, for its portrayal of swastikas and “Seig Heil” salutes? What about images of Che Guevara? The naive college students who wear his face on their t-shirts may view him as a freedom fighter, but Cubans who fled the Castro regime saw him for the mass murderer he actually was. American immigrants who suffered under other communist regimes may find any symbol of Marxist ideology equally offensive. The Soviet Union effectively enslaved most of Central and Eastern Europe for half a century. Why then, do we permit images of the hammer and sickle in Cold War movies and hipster bars?

The list goes on. Apple, Walmart and TV Land acted rashly to purge Confederate symbols from their merchandise because they understand the dynamics of social media. These days, it’s better to overreact and advance a “progressive” cause than to be labelled retrograde on a key cultural issue. Until we find a way to reverse this trend, it’s only going to get worse. These witch hunts will not end with the Confederacy.