Patriot Games: The question that can't be raised — or can it?

National Review, August 12, 2002 by Jonah Goldberg

'It is . . . clear how wrong the president was to sit back and let his political pals orchestrate a campaign to question the patriotism of those who urged a full national debate" on war with Iraq, writes Tom Oliphant of the Boston Globe. New York Times columnist Paul Krugman concurs. "The Bush administration," he writes, is "always quick to question the patriotism of anyone who gets in its way." And The Economist has observed: "Republican candidates for this autumn's elections speak with a single voice. Defend the tax cut; pump up spending on the war on terror; praise the president; and -- sotto voce -- question the patriotism of anyone who criticises him."

BuBut is all of this true? Is the White House really casting doubt on its critics' love of country? Maybe a little, though Krugman & Co. rarely provide evidence to back up such accusations. But the facts are beside the point, because the question of patriotism, or the lack of it, constitutes the oldest form of political correctness in America. All you need to do is question whether someone is questioning your patriotism and you've already won the argument. It's very similar to the accusation of "going negative" in political campaigns: The charge that your opponent is unfairly attacking you is in itself a form of attack against which, apparently, there is no defense. Similarly, it seems the only response to the charge that you've impugned someone's love of country is to back down completely. "No, no, I would never question anyone's patriotism" is the standard capitulation.

There are a number of reasons for this healthy distaste for making patriotism a wedge issue. First, as Walter Berns noted in his book Making Patriots, America is a nation founded upon individual rights. American patriotism, therefore, is the opposite of Spartan patriotism, which was a love of the State above all else. Patriotism in America is rightly defined as a love for the institutions that keep us free. Since American patriotism is less about blood and soil than it is about ideas, patriots must recognize that political dissent is politically loyal.

Another, less salubrious historical source of this distaste is the terrible spectacle of the McCarthy period. Joe McCarthy challenged the loyalty of many Americans, which is, to be sure, an ugly thing to do. He was certainly right about the disloyalty of some Americans; still, the Left has won the propaganda war over that period and now calls into question the idea that anybody can ever be accused of a lack of patriotism. Sure, Ethel and Julius Rosenberg can be executed for treason; but never, ever doubt their love of America!

And so now, a point of political good manners has evolved into a cliche disguised as a moral fact: It is never right to question anyone's patriotism. And this is absurd. Surely Robert Hanssen, Aldrich Ames, and Jonathan Pollard were less patriotic than, say, Sgt. York? There must be rational ways to deduce that someone is relatively more patriotic than someone else. A person who regularly denounces America as bigoted, corrupt, and a cancer on the planet, one might reasonably assume, might be marginally less patriotic than your average volunteer firefighter or VFW hall manager.

The Iraqi News Agency recently reported, for example, that Louis Farrakhan told the Iraqi Islamic Affairs minister that "the Muslim American people are praying to the almighty God to grant victory to Iraq." He claims to have been misquoted, but whether he said it or not, it is reasonable to say that Farrakhan's actions are not brimming with patriotism, especially when taken in the context of his other comments about the United States.

So what? Does it matter if someone isn't patriotic? Of course it does, in some contexts. Irreligious hot-dog vendors aren't a big deal; irreligious priests and rabbis, on the other hand, can be a serious problem for their respective religions. Similarly, an unpatriotic plumber isn't much of a threat to the Republic; an unpatriotic politician just might be. Take an obvious example: As pressure builds for the U.S. to surrender its sovereignty to various international bodies, it seems perfectly relevant to inquire into a politician's commitment to the supremacy of American institutions. If you are of the Noam Chomsky school and believe that the story of America is a story of exploitation, greed, and oppression, it follows that you will be sympathetic to the arguments of foreign critics and much more open to the "ameliorative" laws, regulations, and treaties offered by the United Nations and the like. If you believe that America was put on this earth to launch some full-tilt boogie for freedom and justice, however, then you will likely be more skeptical of innovations like the International Criminal Court.

To those of an "international" outlook, patriotism is an atavistic passion -- in Bertrand Russell's words, "the willingness to kill and be killed for trivial reasons." It's entirely understandable, therefore, that the broadly defined Left, as the self-anointed fixer of history, would want to de-legitimize patriotism as a political issue. And the best way to do this is to respond to questions about your patriotism by leveling accusations of McCarthyism at your critic. During one of the 1992 presidential debates, President Bush commented, "I think it's wrong to demonstrate against your own country or organize demonstrations against your own country on foreign soil." Gov. Clinton shot back: "Your father was right to stand up to Joe McCarthy. You were wrong to attack my patriotism. I was opposed to the war, but I love my country." Okay, but Prescott Bush's disagreements with Sen. McCarthy notwithstanding, does that mean Clinton's anti-American protests on foreign soil weren't a legitimate issue? Given Clinton's record of apologizing for America's sins around the world and his eagerness to sign up for various U.N. schemes, it seems that maybe his youthful indiscretions weren't entirely irrelevant to his presidency.