Whenever the United States goes to war, the subject of
patriotism comes off the shelf and takes center stage. Who is a
patriot and who is not? What is patriotism and what is not?
Whenever the United States goes to war, the subject of patriotism comes off the shelf and takes center stage. Who is a patriot and who is not? What is patriotism and what is not?
The dictionary definition is simple enough: “Love for or devotion to one’s country.” How can such a concise definition be attached to a concept so open to interpretation? Love for and devotion to one’s country will be a very different thing in Berkeley, California than it will be in Rapid City, South Dakota.
As people take sides over the Iraq War, patriotism is discussed at a deafening volume and with red-faced passion. The outcome of this year’s presidential election will no doubt depend, at least in part, on which public relations team paints their candidate as the biggest patriot.
My high school and college years coincided with the Vietnam War. No debate was more central to that time than defining patriotism. Those who supported our presence in Vietnam believed anything short of unbridled support for the war was unpatriotic. This group’s most popular bumper sticker read: “Love it or Leave it.” Directed at the anti-war protesters, this sentiment clearly implied that if you didn’t support the war, you didn’t love your country, so go.
Those of us who protested the war insisted we did so exactly because we loved our country, but that was absurd to the Love-it-or-Leave-it crowd.
So, what is love of country? I have been thinking about this in a fresh way since I read a passage in Al Franken’s new book that has stuck with me. In essence, Franken said, some people love America like a four year-old loves his mother and some people love America like an adult loves a mate.
I think he has something there. With a simple analogy, he has crystallized a fundamental difference in the way people think about their country. The Vietnam War supporters had another favorite bumper sticker that read: “My Country Right or Wrong.” That’s how a four year-old loves his mother. With all of her faults, no matter how horrible they might be, when we were four, we loved Mom without question. She could do no wrong.
But how do we love as adults? The fortunate ones among us have spouses or children for whom we would make any sacrifice. We would love and support them whatever the obstacle. But if a loved one was an alcoholic or a child molester wouldn’t it be best to acknowledge the fact and fight to ‘correct’ things?
As adults, we can see and acknowledge the faults that our loved ones have. We can adjust to some of their faults. No one is perfect, but through our love we can help them realize the destructive ones and support their struggle to be better.
And so it is with patriotism. It is okay to say, “America, I love you, but…” Taking to the streets in the 60s against the Vietnam War or in support of civil rights was, in fact, the very height of patriotism. Protesters screamed our national faults from the rooftops and fought to fix them.
Probably the single greatest thing about the United States is that whatever your opinion, there is parchment paper at the National Archives in Washington, D.C., that guarantees your right to have it. Good opinions come from patriots because they love their country. The best opinions come from patriots who love their country like an adult.
Ron Erskine has lived and worked as a builder and brewery owner in South Valley for 20 years. He lives in Morgan Hill with his wife and two children.
