Stephen Decatur, one of our first national heroes, distinguished himself during the Barbary Wars and the War of 1812, became captain of the USS Constitution at the age of 25, and proposed a famous toast. The toast may be better known than the man: At a dinner in Washington, D.C., Decatur reportedly raised a glass and said, “Our country! In her intercourse with foreign nations may she always be in the right; but right or wrong, our country!”

Did you recognize when it happened? When politicians began over-promising, even saying things they knew weren’t true? When the party in power began strictly controlling the information it put out? When presidential spokesmen started spouting obvious falsehoods with a straight face?

But wait—hasn’t that been happening for a while now? I remember a certain president making a bare-faced denial about a young female intern while shaking a finger at the camera. Another president smoothly promised that his sweeping healthcare program would not disrupt anyone’s current insurance plan.

Anyone who sails the high seas of political dialogue on the internet encounters a lot of this kind of thing: “Dear White, Christian Trump Supporter—We Need to Talk.” That’s the title of a much-shared article on The Huffington Post, written by a female social-sciences professor at a West Coast university. But the combined condescension and anguish of the piece are echoing from every progressive corner: What’s wrong with you Christian conservatives?

A few days after the inauguration, a friend posted on Facebook, “Anybody else glad it’s over?” Meaning a tumultuous election, nights of protest, and a massive nationwide march led by women in pink headgear. I had to respond, “It’s not over.”

A few months ago I began posting online conversations with a friend who identifies herself as a Christian progressive. The conversations skidded to a temporary halt on Nov. 8, when she fell silent on Facebook. Guessing the reason, I sent a conciliatory email the day after, the gist being: Elections are always temporary. One side gets its chance to perform, then the other side.

Every president has his characteristic sayings. In the near future, “Let me be clear,” “This is not who we are,” and “I have a pen and a phone” will remind us of the administration now ending. Those were all understandable, if not always justifiable, statements; but one favorite phrase has always puzzled me: “the right side of history.” It sounds profound, especially to us history buffs. But what, exactly, does it mean?

A few columns ago I wrote about language as a gift of God: supple, powerful, and evocative. Also slippery in translation, as the laborers working on a certain construction project on the plain of Shinar (Genesis 11) quickly discovered. Mistranslations can be historic. During the Cold War, Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev made a speech to Western diplomats, the key phrase remembered as “We will bury you!” What he said is more accurately translated, “We will see you buried”—a shade of meaning not quite as aggressive as Khrushchev’s attitude made it seem.