My grandmother has worn an American flag pin on the lapel of her coat for as long as I can remember, long before September 11th made it chic. It's a small pin that sparkles with fake gemstones, and it's over fifty years old, a relic of the popular patriotism of World War II.
I remember thinking it was odd that she, of all people, should be sporting a patriotic symbol- my grandmother, not the typical senior citizen, is radically liberal, and agrees with very little governmental policy, and besides that, has called some seven other countries home over the course of her life. Sometime ago, I think I was probably in middle school at the time and going through a definite antiestablishment phase, I asked her about the pin.
She laughed, and then she told me, "I wear the pin because I like this country. I love the people, and I love the land. Sure, I don't like a lot of what the government does, but hell, there isn't a single country on this planet that runs things to my satisfaction, and I'm sure there won't be any in my lifetime. But as for what this country is actually about, the people and the wilderness and the cities and the farms and all, I love it. I was born and raised here, and I've had a good life in and out of this country, and I'm pretty sure I'll die here, and be buried here. I oppose the government a lot, sure, but that's not because I hate this country- rather, it's because I love it, and I want what's best for it. So yes, I am a patriot. I love my country, and that's why I wear this pin."
That's what I consider a true patriot. Patriotism is about loving your country, not blindly accepting it, and it's certainly not about hating other countries. In America's general response to the September terrorist attacks, we've shown with our sudden, exuberant bursts of patriotic fervor what poor patriots we really are. Patriots who love their country only because somebody else hates it, patriots out of pride, competitiveness, arrogance, the need to be a part of the crowd, the thrill of a good fight, the warmth of righteous indignation.
It's sad to see so many patriots who only love the parts of their country that are no longer there- people who would never get misty eyed over the trade center towers when they were still standing, yet weep over them now that they're gone. A classic case of not knowing what you've got 'til it's gone. We walk in and out of our days without ever appreciating the value of human life and the beauty of the land around us. And then we have the audacity to lament its disappearance. The real tragedy is not that we lost so much good, but that we didn't appreciate it when it was there- that we weren't true patriots when it was really important to be one.
American flags out the wazoo may show your unyielding support for your country, but that's a different thing entirely, an empty thing, the sort of thing that breeds monstrous governments that do terrible things. Thoughtless, passionate nationalism is not the same thing as patriotism. Patriotism is about love, not war.