Reflections on Patriotism

This Memorial Day I was fortunate enough to witness the humbly titled “National Memorial Day Parade” down Constitution Avenue in Washington. Two hours of military men and women, veterans associations and high school marching bands from across the United States left my feet somewhat tired, but gave me ample opportunity to consider not only the meaning of Memorial Day—a civically sacred day we set aside to memorialize our war dead and their sacrifices. Such remembrances I fully support as a means of maintaining our national consciousness and identity, but that identity as it is so frequently portrayed in parades, by rally speakers and even in the responses of a crowd cause me some pause.

When we cheer for the wounded Vietnam solider or the last World War I veteran alive we show a genuine appreciation nd respect for sacrifice and service. But when we cheer for the “Rolling Thunder” bikers or Lee Eastwood’s horribly catchy “I’m Proud to be an American” song, what are we cheering for? In a very healthy sense we are cheering for the things we love, the particular habits and things that Americans do. C.S. Lewis notes in his classic The Four Loves that men feel a sort of fondness for their country, a patriotism that is not about being better, but the peculiar things that make a German a German or an Italian an Italian. The Frenchman is fond of his street cafes and baguette because they are French and part of his very Frenchness, he does not except his Spanish neighbor to share an equal appreciation. In the same way the Spaniard enjoys (or did, until recently) his siestas because he is a Spaniard, and that is what Spaniards do.

This affection is the natural outgrowth of a culture and identity; its corruption comes in the belief that it is superior to all other such loves that others may have for their own countries. To invoke the tired Third Reich analogy, when Hitler declared the Aryan culture and habits to the culture, he elevated something that cannot be elevated, for he could never make the Frenchman love sausage and beer in the same way as a German. Military patriotism is arrogance; affectionate patriotism is a love regardless of imperfection or practicality.

For the American, I fear pride too often misleads our patriotism. We may say we have the “best damned country in the world,” for we believe it to be true. But are we patriots because of what we as a nation have done and are capable of doing? because of what we stand for and where we came from? or because we truly do love mother’s apple pie and baseball? All three have their natural place at the alter of state; I would prefer the latter have preeminence. If Americans ride Harley-Davidsons and play cheesy country anthems, so be it; let us take care, however, when we attempt to associate principles with particularities. Too often it seems we take a broad principle and tie it directly to something that has no dependency on that principal what-so-ever. Apple pie will forever be apple pig, regardless of government. We send men to war because of deep underlying principles that our hearts do not understand, they yearn for home because they remember the fireworks and hotdogs on the grill. Perhaps my observation is not that we love our country, but that we easily confuse this love. Let us fight for what is right, let us love what we love as Americans.