“Why don’t we say the Pledge of Allegiance at the start of meetings?”
Years ago, I was serving on a public board and a new member—former military—asked me this quietly over lunch. I didn’t have an answer.
I’d served in other government roles over the years, and it seemed to me that the custom of saying the Pledge had generally been fading for a while. But I didn’t know when or why it happened in this case. I asked around and got a few different stories. It just fell by the wayside. Some people were uncomfortable with it. It’s the prerogative of whoever’s serving as chair.
I later became chair, and we started saying the Pledge again. But the underlying question is worth thinking about. Why do we do it? In a diverse, continental nation conceived in liberty, isn’t it a little strange to publicly swear allegiance to a flag?
I found myself returning to this question last week as delegates at the Democratic National Convention waved a sea of flags and USA signs. I must admit, it was an unexpected moment for me—members of America’s political left have historically been the ones to raise concerns about ostentatious displays of national pride: Too much gung-ho Americanism, it is said, can blind us to our past sins, stifle dissent, encourage our international bellicosity, and so on.
But I liked the flags. I like patriotism. I also think patriotism is essential for governing in America. I think it’s doubly important today as we’re coming apart at the seams.
More than probably any nation, America is always in danger of fracturing. Citizens of other nations have all sorts of things that can bind them together. They come from the same stock, they’ve been on the same land for centuries, they are members of the same faith, they are loyal to the same monarch. But Americans have countless histories, traditions, and faiths. We believe in different things. Moreover, our form of government is built on liberty and democracy—meaning we expect and get big differences among citizens.
In other places, it might be hard to foster independence of thought and action. Here, it’s tough to foster commonality. What glues us together while we are disagreeing about abortion, taxes, crime, and housing? How do we stay on the same team when we are using our liberty to say things or make decisions that others detest?
In America, centripetal forces pushing us away from one another are an abundant natural resource. Centrifugal forces pulling us together are unnatural and in short supply. They must be continuously, consciously replenished.
One thing can be said for most -isms, whether socialism, integralism, absolutism, or something else: They provide a set of beliefs that can orient everyone in a society. They give the people some glue. Liberalism, or liberal-democracy, provides rules of the road for how society and government can operate. But it doesn’t unify a people in the same way.
America has grappled with this from the start. The challenge grew as our nation grew and diversified. More and more centripetal forces. We used to openly recognize and openly attempt to address the problem. The concept of e pluribus unum embodies the effort to find one-ness despite difference. Ideas like “melting pot” and “assimilation” tried, if imperfectly, to forge a cohesive nation out of difference. Our Constitution’s (and Federalist Papers’) repeated invocation of republicanism aimed to acculturate citizens to the idea of a common good—a joint project they had an obligation to pursue. Our president has the powers not just of a head of government but also of a head of state, so s/he could provide a unifying presence.
That America has been splintering in recent years is not news. But most people have been trying to find a reason for the growing centripetal force (Social media! Economic inequality! Assortative mating!). That’s the wrong way to understand our predicament.
It’s not that something new is pulling us apart. It’s that we have neglected the things that pull us together.
I believe American republicanism has much of the answer. It’s a combination of pride in who we are and what we’ve accomplished; a commitment to our national documents (e.g., the Constitution and Declaration of Independence) and what they stand for (e.g., self-government, equality, pluralism, decentralization, ordered liberty); and a sense of duty to advance the good of the community (through national, state, local, and charitable service). This is how the nation can simultaneously preserve its valuable, inevitable differences while maintaining a strong “we.”
I like having the Pledge prior to a public meeting because it’s the “we” before the heated debates. I never mind protests against things America has done so long as they are undergirded by a respect for what America is. Arguments before a court or in a legislature are great so long as the parties continue to respect the court and the legislature. I like waving American flags at the convention of a political party I mostly disagree with because I see a “we” despite my disagreements.
A healthy patriotism makes American governing possible. It strengthens the “who,” “what,” and “how” of our public life. All Americans are part of it; we work for our nation’s common good at the civil-society, local, state, and national levels; and we treat our fellow citizens with respect and follow the rules of our system.
Absent the glue of some patriotism, we can forget who we’re working with, what we’re fighting for, and how we are expected to behave in the public square.