A patriot is defined as “one who loves his or her country” (Merriam-Webster 1997 edition). It’s a nice, simple definition, in theory. But love of country means a lot of different things to a lot of different people.
I consider myself a patriot. I like living in the USA. That doesn’t mean I think we’re without error and flaw. Some of our systems are broken and need fixing. Some need done away with. Some are decent as they stand. Patriotism is not and should not be a blind love of country. Actually, blind love of anything doesn’t work well for me. It’s why I’m pagan. And part of being patriotic is working to fix those things that don’t work and aren’t right.
I see my relationship with this country as almost any relationship I enter into: give and take, balance, work, and dialogue. I’ve never agreed with “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country.” What I can do for my country isn’t enough to make the relationship worthwhile. It has to do something for me, too. I liken it to any working relationship: my kindred, my husband, even my relationships with my gods.
I enjoy a lot of freedoms, and I believe in working to gain the other freedoms I want. It’s an uphill battle, a lot of the time, but more and more my side of the battle is gaining ground. I don’t feel like I always have to hide my religion. Sometimes, yes, and that’s simply part of the fight.
I expect a lot out of my country, to be honest, and it doesn’t always deliver. We can backtrack and then things go to hell for a little while, and then we make another strive forward. Then again, I don’t. always hold up my end, either.
Patriotism isn’t about obedience. It isn’t about thinking we live in a perfect society. It’s a willingness to enter into a relationship and fight to keep that relationship working, and it has to be held up on both ends.
Well said, sister. There are particular qualities to that relationship, of course. They arise out of the ancestry and growth of both parties — self and country — and the ongoing dynamics surrounding both. I always come back to the Girl Scout Promise, engraved in my heart long ago, “to do my duty to God and my country”. It never stated what that duty was, in either case, and life includes the joy of figuring both out.
My opinion is that patriotism, as a concept, is a trick to get people to feel beholden to a government, political/economic system, and authority structure simply by virtue of an accident of biology and geography involving their birth. It’s a trick, a trap, to make people feel like they owe something to the country just by virtue of being born.
As far as your attempt to cash it out as a “relationship”…I think a relationship you have no choice about entering and where only one side has the power is either infantilizing, rape, or both. Can I put my country on trial, take away its freedoms, throw it in Guantanamo to be tortured and made to disappear? Then it’s a rather unbalanced relationship, don’t you think?
Misuse of the concept of patriotism is the trick. Patriotism is the love of country, not of the state which claims dominion over that country.
I don’t “love my country,” even though I served in its military. The United States and its political system are broken, quite probably beyond repair. What I do love is the land I live on, defined loosely as Puget Sound and the Salish Sea region, or perhaps more broadly as Cascadia. Even then it isn’t the political entity of Washington State, Oregon, and the international border region into the lower mainland of British Columbia, or any combination thereof, it’s the place itself and the spirit of the land here that holds me so strongly.
Simply put, I’m not a patriot and quite possibly have never been so. I’m okay with that.
You didn’t serve in the military of your country, which is the geography you described. Rather, you served in the military of the state which claims dominion over that geography. The two are not the same thing, in my opinion.
I have a complex relationship with this country in which I live, with the political entities which claim dominion over it, and with the people who also live here.
On the one hand, I know that my place in this world is set and guaranteed by the ancestors, by which I mean “ancestors” in the generic sense, the people who came before me. Because of that, I owe a certain duty to maintain and improve the systems and structures which they have set in place (with a careful assessment of what exactly constitutes “improvement”).
On the other hand, as Erynn notes, some of those systems and structures seem to have broken down in ways that may not be reparable. If the latter is true, then it seems that the best thing to do is to build entirely new systems to replace those. This would not be a project to be undertaken lightly, of course, as such projects exact terrific costs.
To me, though, that very care of what exists and what could be made to exist is very much a part of the love of country that constitutes patriotism. One can love one’s country without also loving those who claim dominion over it. One cannot, however, live a whole and fulfilling life without also loving the country in which one lives. This is not about accidents of birth or geography or about domination and judgment, but about learning to be fulfilled by one’s circumstances, of “playing the hand one is dealt”, as it were.
By this definition I am not a patriot. The US, as I see it, is incredibly hypocritical. While its constitution promises freedom, those freedoms don’t manifest equally. This country has become a country of greed and consumption, of bullying and militarism. The US is an imperial power and I’m not interested in being part of that murdering, dehumanizing machine.
To leave would be a dream fulfilled. But to leave requires money, something I don’t have. And it requires leaving some family members whom I am not able, emotionally, to leave. Everyday I look into a better place to live, a place where equality is genuine, where war is rare if not non-existent, and where the cost of living isn’t through the roof. But no place Mother exists yet.
I like the -idea- of America, I’m just a little annoyed at how it works in practice.
Living on the other side of the Atlantic, I thought I might throw in my somewhat different thoughts on the matter of patriotism one which is more based on “tribalism” than anything else. I suppose I would describe my nested set of identities as Gael (brought up in the Northern Highlands with both parents coming from the Hebrides), Scot, and British. I am proud to be a Gael, proud to be Scots, and proud to be British. Patriotism for me is about love of country, a love that is unconditional but not uncritical (for me country is synonymous with both land culture). It is not about the state or the current government, because these are manmade constructs that we can and should change if they cease to serve the interests of the people. It has happened in the UK before, and may happen again (though I would hope not).
My patriotism is aimed at the “idea” of Scotland/Britain, a country that is not perfect but that we can try to make better. It has been the home of my ancestors for at least one thousand years, and I cannot imagine being truly happy anywhere else. The Welsh have a great word for this, “hiraeth”, a bone deep longing for your homeland and your culture.
Well said. Probably the most objective, sensible essay on the subject of patriotism I’ve read in a while.