The Independent State Of Scott

A little-known Civil War phenomenon was the “secession” of a handful of Union-sympathizing counties in the American South in 1861. One of the most notable was Scott County, Tennessee. Located on the Cumberland Plateau in the northeastern corner of the state, it was home to only 61 slaves at the start of the war. Thus, county residents were unenthusiastic about fighting and dying for an institution that only served wealthy plantation owners in the middle and western parts of the state.

So, after Tennessee joined the Confederacy on June 8, 1861 (the last state to do so), the residents of Scott County voted overwhelmingly to secede from the state and create the “Free And Independent State Of Scott”. This enclave community remained supportive of the Union cause throughout the Civil War. Said one local farmer, "If the goddamn State of Tennessee can secede from the Union, then Scott County can secede from the State of Tennessee."

As you might imagine, the Democratic Governor of Tennessee did not look favorably on this “rebellion” and sent 1,700 troops to the county. But before reaching the capital of this new enclave, the troops met harsh resistance and had to retreat. In the end, Scott County became the main source of soldiers for the Union’s 7th Regiment Tennessee Volunteer Infantry. And, in nearly every presidential election since the Civil War, Scott County has voted Republican.

Even though the “secession” of Scott County was never formally recognized by the state of Tennessee (or the federal governments of the Union or the Confederacy), it was ceremoniously “readmitted” to the state in 1986—more than 120 years after the end of hostilities. While other Southern counties created similar Union enclaves (e.g., The Republic of Winston, in north Alabama), the Free And Independent State of Scott stands out as a unique political response to the most divided time in American history.

The Thermostatic Pendulum

Back in November of 2021, we wrote that Republican gains in that year’s “off-year elections” (specifically in Virginia and New Jersey) might be a harbinger of things to come. While the 2022 midterm elections proved less successful for the GOP, the 2024 cycle may have been the culmination of this process.

The model we used back then was one developed by political theorist Christoper Wlezien. Essentially, he postulated that the voting public is like a thermostat—reacting to public policies that they deem “too hot” by punishing the incumbent party. Donald Trump’s victory may have, in part, been the result of voters rejecting four years of Democratic policies that they viewed as too reliant on increased government spending—leading to an inflationary economy that dogged their everyday lives. Whether that was the case or not, perception became reality, and Republicans gained control of all three branches of government.

The beauty of this “thermostatic model” is that it can be applied to either party. In fact, political scientists have argued that after both the Eisenhower and Reagan administrations, voter mood shifted against their conservative policies and ushered in periods of liberal rule (Kennedy and, after a brief Bush interregnum, Clinton). So, when voters perceive excessive government “activism” (from the left or the right) it’s countered by a swing in the other direction. Ideally, this creates political equilibrium.

Back in 2021, we wrote: “Americans are, by nature, suspicious of an over-active government—it’s literally in our political DNA. The Constitution is basically a primer on how to limit government action and protect citizens from overly zealous leaders.” It seems this ‘thermostatic’ model kicked in again in 2024, and my guess is the founders of our republic would see this as a good thing. 

As we also wrote three years ago, “Whether you’re on the left, the right or in the middle, this may be the most positive feature of our political culture.”