Since 2001, it seems that Republicans have had a monopoly on patriotism, or at least that's the way they've succeeded in portraying it. But how exactly do they define patriotism? If patriotism means caving into fear mongers and seeing who can hate "the terrorists" more, then conservatives are pretty damn patriotic. But the way I see it, patriotism is about more than just talk. If you really love your country, then you ought to be able to make a few sacrifices to show it.
Let's take Iraq for example. When was the last time that anyone in government ever asked the American public to sacrifice anything for the Iraq War? Of course, Americans are paying a heavy price for the war in form of hundreds of billions of tax dollars and thousands of lives, but that's a different kind of cost. Nothing is asked of me. Nothing is demanded or ever expected. During World War II, Americans made tremendous sacrifices which affected their lives daily (speed limit lowered to 35 mph, food rations, gas rations, clothes rations, etc). It seems all too easy to forget that we're at war, fighting a very costly battle in a desert half way around the world.
The way Republicans have framed the war is that you either support the troops, the war, and the President, or else you're unpatriotic. There are those who say that being critical and questioning of your government in times like these is the true sign of patriotism. I agree with the latter message to a certain extent, but in my opinion true patriotism goes further. Conservatives have shown us over the last few years that simply mouthing off about supposed love for freedom can be nothing more than empty words. Patriotism is about action as much as it is about talk. When I was younger I remember hearing Kennedy's famous words, "Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country," and not understanding their full meaning. His message, I have now realized, was not only a call to public service, it was a deeply patriotic and altruistic statement. It asked Americans to think beyond their own self-interest, which seems to be all that Republicans care about these days, and think about the common interest of the entire country. It's a bold kind of patriotism, one that demands action and people banding together to do what's right, one that Republicans are afraid to touch. Frankly, it just doesn't fit in very well with their everyone for themselves philosophy. But it sure as hell fits in with our we're all in this together philosophy.
I realized recently that I'm a very patriotic person, just not in the Republican definition of the word, which has now become commonplace. That's why I get so fired up every time John Edwards talks about a national call to public service. He says, "It is time to ask the American people to be patriotic about something other than war." It couldn't be said any better. If my President asked me to plant a tree or use an energy efficient lightbulb, I'd jump at the idea. Whether it's re-painting the rusty slide at the playground down the street, or running for public office, most people are pretty damn proud of doing something for someone else. There are many great charities and non-profits already doing this type of work, but how about something on a grander scale. What if we decided that building a better country is a national priority, and that everyone has a part to play in that endevor.
Public service is patriotic. It's time that we recognize that simple truth and get the Demoratic party to start talking about it. Democrats have lost power over the last few decades because we haven't talked about values and the Republicans have. We have values too though, and there is no reason for us to ever shy away from them, because when our values are put up against theirs, ours win every time. Period.
I'll leave you with the excerpt, from Homegrown Democrat by Garrison Keillor, which inspired this post:
The Mississippi River rose in the spring and there were urgent flood warnings on the radio. One afternoon I put on warm clothes and took the bus to St. Paul and crossed the Wabasha Bridge to the West Side where people were at work filling sandbags and building dikes to save the low-lying houses. It was foggy, and then it began to rain. An army of hundreds of volunteers hard at work, men and women, drawn up in assembly lines, holding the sacks and filling them and passing them in a chain to the dike. It got dark. Nobody left. The Red Cross brought around sandwiches and coffee. We rested and went back to work. Trucks brought in more sand and bags. A couple of front loaders worked at anchoring the dikes with earthen banks. It felt like wartime. I worked until after midnight and lay down in the back of a truck under a tarp and slept until daybreak and got up stiff and cold and they brought us more sandwiches and coffee and I got back in the gang and worked until noon. Someone worried about the dike bursting. A man said, "When they go, they go slow, they don't go sudden." I wasn't sure about that, but I stayed because everyone else stayed. I sort of collapsed in the afternoon and was going to go home but slept a couple hours on a tarp in somebody's front yard and when I woke up, there was water in the streets, people wading through it, some men with muddy overalls, pitched emotion in the air, though nobody said much. We had put so much into beating back the flood, and we kept working- shovel, fill, tie, and pass, shovel, fill, tie, and pass- and felt privileged to be there doing it. I could hear the river boiling by and slabs of ice heaved up on the dike and National Guardsmen patrolling and when people couldn't stand up any longer, they sat down and ate baloney sandwiches and drank coffee. And got back up.
I went home in the morning. It was so overwhelming, I sat on my bed and cried. For the relief of getting out of those mud-crusted clothes and standing under a hot shower, but also for what I'd seen, the spirit of all those workers caught up in the job of saving their neighbors' houses. Forget all the jabber and gossip, all the theoretical balderdash and horsefeathers, here is reality: the river rises up in its power and majesty, and the people rise up in theirs, and while one can do only so much, you must do that much, and we did. None of the news reports captured the reality of that event, which was the spirit of the crowd, of which I was one. An experience that warms a Democrats heart, a scene from Grapes of Wrath, or the crossing of the Red Sea. The People, yes.
By God, no matter what Republicans say, the people of this country really do care about each other. We are not a cold people. By God, when John F. Kennedy said, "Ask what you can do for your country," he spoke to this country's heart and conscience.
