What America is and what it means to love America
The one-year anniversary of the siege on the U.S. Capitol feels like an especially good day to do some soul-searching about what America is and what it means to love America. Those who directed and financed the attack know they aren’t patriots and don’t care, because a government of, by, and for the people necessarily eats into their power and profits. I have nothing to say to them today. But those who carried out the attack and those who believe the attack was justified see themselves as patriots, so at least we have love of country in common. My message to them is this: it’s impossible to hate government and love America.
America is not primarily about individual freedom; it never has been. It is about the creation of a self-governing society. The Pilgrims came to gain certain liberties, but they didn’t land at Plymouth Rock and jump off the ship yelling, “Anarchy!!” or even, “Government doesn’t solve problems; government is the problem.” They wouldn’t even leave it until they had agreed on a framework for living peacefully in community. When they did come ashore, they were carrying a government with them: the Mayflower Compact.
This document reads in part: “We, whose names are underwritten… mutually, in the Presence of God and one another, covenant and combine ourselves together into a civil Body Politick, for our better Ordering and Preservation, and Furtherance of the Ends aforesaid: And by Virtue hereof do enact, constitute, and frame, such just and equal Laws, Ordinances, Acts, Constitutions, and Offices, from time to time, as shall be thought most meet and convenient for the general Good of the Colony; unto which we promise all due Submission and Obedience. IN WITNESS whereof we have hereunto subscribed our names at Cape-Cod the eleventh of November… Anno Domini; 1620.”
The Pilgrims and the framers of the Constitution, who sought “a more perfect union,” got a lot wrong, so centuries into this experiment in self-governance, we still grapple with the shortcomings and flaws of our founding documents. They were written by wealthy white men for white men. They certainly didn’t take into account the enslaved people on whose lives their wealth depended, or the rights of the indigenous people on whose land we now live, or women, who only won the right to vote a hundred years ago and still must fight for representation. Continuing the work of creating a civil society based on the highest ideals of the founders is difficult. It takes persistence, organizing, education, and public service. But acting out of love for this idea, building and improving on what we have been given, seems a lot more like patriotic duty than beating police with flag poles, threatening elected officials, or trashing public buildings.
I had a student who at age 16 was a lifelong gangbanger. He grew up in the family drug-trafficking business, so violence was the norm. When he finished his assignments, he sometimes asked for computer time to play a game. Now and then, I’d find him instead watching “beat-down” videos. It was thrilling to see people assaulted, because to him, that’s what power looked like. He probably enjoyed every minute of last year’s assault on the Capitol.
I’ve been concerned for some decades that we seem to have gotten stuck in a prolonged period of disordered adolescence–pretty full of ourselves, emotional, narcissistic, fiercely tribal, and egocentric. I thought it was just a stage, and the grownups would shepherd us out of it, but now I see those very traits among people with great power and influence, and being celebrated as enviable, even noble. In fact, they are poison to a self-governing, civil society, and those who encourage the kind of adolescent rage we saw a year ago know it. Chaos masquerading as patriotism allows authoritarian opportunists to step in and seize power.
Many who are less prone to violence still see patriotism as triumphalism – giant flags, fireworks, parades, salutes. There have been times warfare was necessary, and celebrating victory over anti-democratic attacks is fine. But the real work of preserving, protecting, and defending a country where power is diffused among the people is constant, and often dull and difficult. We can proudly display flags or hold gratitude in our hearts, but between celebrations, we pick up our tablets, clipboards or phones, and go to meeting rooms, polling places, streets, and sidewalks to exercise the rights we have inherited and make sure others have access to them, as well. We campaign, donate, run for office, contact our representatives, and peacefully assemble. We serve in the military, Peace Corps, Job Corps, as volunteer tutors and advocates. We take civics and leadership courses and teach our children to cooperate, collaborate, and care for others.
The first three words of the U.S. Constitution are “We the People.” That’s still us. We decide if it’s worth the work to keep trying to build a more peaceful and just nation for our children and grandchildren, or give it over to authoritarians who use violence-prone drones to maintain power. Benjamin Franklin was asked after the Constitutional Congress whether we were to have a monarchy or a republic. His answer: “A republic…if we can keep it.”
Jean Lewandowski is a resident of Nashua.