Patriotism, True and False
Some thoughts on an important and somewhat slippery concept
People have played patriot games since the beginning of time—since the beginning of countries, certainly. I know you recognize the phrase “patriot games.” Tom Clancy published a book by that title in 1987. It was made into a movie, starring Harrison Ford, five years later.
I recall the presidential-election campaign of 1988. Vice President George Bush was the Republican nominee. (I admired him then and I always would.) Governor Michael Dukakis, of Massachusetts, was the Democratic nominee. (His politics aren’t mine, but I respect him.)
Let me quote from a news article published on September 20 of that election year. Dateline: Bloomfield, N.J.:
“I’ve never been to a flag factory!” Republican nominee George Bush exuded today as he sought to wrap the Stars and Stripes ever tighter around his campaign for the presidency.
“Exuded” is a funny word to use, isn’t it? “Exclaimed”?
Bush went to the aging red-brick plant here where Annin & Co. workers sew pieces of red, white and blue into thousands of American flags every day. “Wouldn’t working here lift your spirits?” Bush was asked by Republican Senate challenger Pete Dawkins as they left the factory. “Oh, yeah!” Bush replied.
That report was in the Washington Post. It carried a clever headline: “Bush seeks to sew up flag vote.”
After the election, Germond & Witcover (Jack W. Germond and Jules Witcover) titled their campaign book “Whose Broad Stripes and Bright Stars?”
Patriotism, on balance, is a good quality, but in any case, it is natural in man.
When does patriotism degenerate into jingoism? We could examine this question at length—or simply quote Justice Stewart, who (referring to hard-core pornography) said, “I know it when I see it.”
I have pasted a couple of sentences from a new essay of mine published in National Review: here. It it titled “ ‘True Patriot Love.’ ” That is a phrase, of course, from the Canadian national anthem. President Trump has done wonders for Canadian patriotism—even Canadian nationalism.
In my observation, Americans are apt to feel more patriotic when their party holds power—meaning, is in the White House—than when the other guys are in. I noticed something similar when I was coming of age.
Americans tended to like the U.K. depending on whether Labour or the Conservatives were in. Even more, they tended to like Israel depending on whether Labour or Likud was in.
But nations—their basic worth, their essential character—should be above party politics and momentary partisan victories (or losses).
Maybe I could quote from a post I wrote in 2014. Heading: “Our Country”:
Last week, I thought of Ron Silver, the late actor. He was a political activist. He was an ardent Democrat. At Clinton’s first inauguration, he saw military jets flying over the Lincoln Memorial, and was disgusted. Then he thought, “Those are our planes now.” Later, after 9/11, he became a staunch supporter of George W. Bush, and spoke at the 2004 Republican convention. He spoke damn well, too.
I then pointed the finger at myself (not the middle one, but some other finger):
I was in Washington last week, walking past the White House. (For some reason, the people never elect me. They won’t let me live there.) I should say, I’ve always loved the White House. It’s one of my favorite buildings. I have loved it since childhood—how it looks and what it stands for. It is a perfect republican building. It is exactly the kind of house the American president should live in. An American, a republican, mansion.
By the way, my great-grandfather had his shop quite close to the White House, at 13th and F. I have a letter to him from FDR.
Anyway, last week, I felt a surge of bitterness. Why? I am disliking the current occupant of the White House more than ever. And, on seeing this house, I winced.
And then I caught myself: “Come on, Jay. It’s still the White House. Presidents come and go. This is a great and glorious country, with a constitution, separation of powers, regular elections . . . Don’t have an ‘our planes’ attitude.”
Like others, I suppose, I have to remind myself of this from time to time. I think I’ll need ever more frequent reminders in coming years.
Yup.
In my column on Friday, here at Onward and Upward, I cited Calvin Coolidge in a speech he delivered in October 1925. The speech was to the American Legion. I said I would return to it—and I will, in a moment.
First, however, let me quote the beginning of my National Review essay:
On January 30, ten days after the second Trump administration began, the secretary of homeland security, Kristi Noem, traveled to the Northeast. She visited the Haskell Free Library and Opera House, which straddles the U.S.–Canadian border. On one side is Derby Line, Vermont; on the other is Rock Island, Quebec. The Haskell family built the structure on the border because they wanted Americans and Canadians to have equal access.
Throughout the building, there is a black line, indicating the border. On her visit, Secretary Noem hopped from one side to the other. “U.S.A. No. 1,” she said on the American side. “The 51st state,” she said on the other. She did this over and over.
I then ask,
Was this patriotism? If you’re really No. 1, do you have to thump your chest about it? Do you have to belittle someone else? How should a great and good country behave?
Okay. Now, Coolidge:
The generally expressed desire of “America first” can not be criticized. It is a perfectly correct aspiration for our people to cherish. But the problem which we have to solve is how to make America first.
It can not be done by the cultivation of national bigotry, arrogance, or selfishness. Hatreds, jealousies, and suspicions will not be productive of any benefits in this direction. Here again we must apply the rule of toleration. Because there are other peoples whose ways are not our ways, and whose thoughts are not our thoughts, we are not warranted in drawing the conclusion that they are adding nothing to the sum of civilization.
Let me pause—let me interrupt President Coolidge—for a second. He says “Here again” because he has been speaking of toleration: “toleration and liberalism.” (He means the latter word in in its classical sense.) And did you notice his evocation of the Bible? “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord” (Isaiah 55:8).
All right, I’ll let Coolidge continue:
We can make little contribution to the welfare of humanity on the theory that we are a superior people and all others are an inferior people. We do not need to be too loud in the assertion of our own righteousness.
It is true that we live under most favorable circumstances. But before we come to the final and irrevocable decision that we are better than everybody else we need to consider what we might do if we had their provocations and their difficulties. We are not likely to improve our own condition or help humanity very much until we come to the sympathetic understanding that human nature is about the same everywhere, that it is rather evenly distributed over the surface of the earth, and that we are all united in a common brotherhood.
We can only make America first in the true sense which that means by cultivating a spirit of friendship and good will, by the exercise of the virtues of patience and forbearance, by being “plenteous in mercy,” and through progress at home and helpfulness abroad standing as an example of real service to humanity.
They called him “Silent Cal.” But when he spoke, he was worth listening to.
We all have our favorite thoughts—our favorite utterances—about patriotism. You may like Burke: “To make us love our country, our country ought to be lovely.” I very much like Carl Schurz—the German immigrant who became a Union general, a U.S. senator, etc.: “My country, right or wrong—when right, to be kept right; when wrong, to be set right.”
Thank you for joining me today, my friends. Maybe I could close with another paragraph or two from that new essay of mine:
If you want an example of patriotism, look to the Ukrainians, I say. They have set an example of patriotism—and courage, and self-sacrifice—for all time. I think of a phrase used by Kyle Parker, of the U.S. Helsinki Commission, in a podcast with me: “this valorous defense of hearth and home.”
They have also set an example of nationalism: insisting on their independence, their right to exist, fighting and dying to avoid conquest by a merciless empire.
Yes. Remember the Ukrainians.
You are off to a great start.
I wish you much success.
Thank you for such a meaningful essay.