"Unity is the great need of the hour. ... Not because it sounds pleasant or
because it makes us feel good, but because it's the only way we can overcome
the essential deficit that exists in this country. I'm not talking about a
budget deficit. ... I'm talking about a moral deficit. I'm talking about an
empathy deficit. I'm taking about an inability to recognize ourselves in one
another; to understand that we are our brother's keeper; we are our sister's
keeper; that, in the words of Dr. King, we are all tied together in a single
garment of destiny."
So quoth Barack Obama in Atlanta on Jan. 20, but it might as well have been
last week, so central is unity to his presidential campaign. And then
there's Michelle Obama. "We have lost the understanding that, in a
democracy, we have a mutual obligation to one another," the would-be first
lady said at a rally last month. "That we have to compromise and sacrifice
for one another in order to get things done."
What is fascinating here is not the sentiment, but what's missing from it.
The P-word.
To invoke patriotism seriously is to brand yourself either an old fogy or a
right-wing bully. If Barack Obama spoke about patriotism with the sort of
passion he expends on unity, many would take him for some sort of demagogue.
But what on Earth could he mean by unity other than a kind of patriotic
esprit de corps for the good of his country?
Indeed, patriotism is far preferable to mere unity. (Mafia syndicates and
terrorist cells are unified, after all.) Patriotism is a species of unity
that has some redeeming moral and philosophical substance to it. In America,
patriotism - as opposed to, say, nationalism - is a love for a creed, a
dedication to what is best about the "American way." Nationalism, a romantic
sensibility, says, "My country is always right." Patriots hope that their
nation will make the right choice.
If you read the speeches of leading Democrats before the Vietnam War, it's
amazing how comfortable they were with patriotic rhetoric. "Ask not what
your country can do for you - ask what you can do for your country" stands
foursquare against so much of our entitlement culture.
Vietnam, of course, changed that. "The tragedy of the left," Todd Gitlin
wrote in his 2006 book, "The Intellectuals and the Flag," "is that, having
achieved an unprecedented victory in helping stop an appalling war, it then
proceeded to commit suicide."
"Suicide" might be strong, but the left certainly amputated itself from
full-throated patriotic sentiment. Most Democrats speak mellifluously about
unity but get tongue-tied or sound as if they're just delivering words
plucked from a political consultant's memo when they talk of patriotism
(Virginia Sen. Jim Webb being a major exception). Sen. John Kerry, who made
his name vilifying the Vietnam War, suddenly wanted credit as a patriot for
the same service when he ran for president in 2004. His opening line at the
Democratic convention - "I'm John Kerry, and I'm reporting for duty" - was
cringe-inducing. The words came out as ironic, almost kitschy. The message
seemed to be, "I can play this game better than that chickenhawk George W.
Bush."
When Democrats do speak of patriotism, it is usually as a means of finding
fault with Republicans, corporations or America itself. Hence the irony that
questioning the patriotism of liberals is a grievous sin, but doing likewise
to conservatives is fine. That's how then-candidate Howard Dean could, with
a straight face, insist that then-Attorney General John Ashcroft "is no
patriot. He's a direct descendant of Joseph McCarthy."
Indeed, the one area in which Obama explicitly invokes patriotism is in the
realm of economics. He proposes a Patriot Corporation Act that he claims
would reward corporations that keep jobs in the U.S. ("Now here is a Patriot
Act everyone can get behind," gushed William Greider of The Nation.)
Michelle Obama famously declared last month that her husband's candidacy
elicited pride in her country for the first time in her adult life. I'd like
to think that's not really what she meant, but it's at least a sign of how
ill-equipped she and so many others on the left are when it comes to
discussing such issues.
And it's a crying shame, despite the fact that the Democrats' rhetorical
disadvantage is a huge boon for the Republicans. One cannot credibly talk of
love of country while simultaneously dodging the word and concept of
patriotism. And, I would argue, one cannot sufficiently love one's country
if you are afraid to say so out loud. Better that our politics be an
argument about why and how we should love our country, not about whether
some do and some don't.