Jonathan Alter
The New Shape of Patriotism, 2001
I wanted to go to the Statue of Liberty, and figured my police press credential might get me there. Not a chance. They tell me at the ferry that it is "closed indefinitely," which depresses me as much as anything all week. I call a government official who says that the pres-ident has said privately that he wants the Statue of Liberty open as soon as possible, but he has been told that it simply is not secure. They're hoping to let tourist boats at least float past Lady Liberty soon, so the people can feel her patriotic presence.
Patriotism. Even now the word has a musty quality, like an old war-bonds poster. We spent so many years thinking of "patriots" as New England football players that the concept almost turned to kitsch. American celebrities are so out of shape, patriotically speaking, that many didn't seem to know the words to "America the Beautiful" during their "Tribute to Heroes" telethon last week. The bigger questions slide by: What does patriotism mean now? What does it require of us?
Not enlisting—at least not yet. The military has plenty of recruits. Perhaps true patriotism demands a broad national commitment to something that needs fixing. After the Soviet Union launched the first satellite in 1957, Congress used the patriotic fear over Sputnik to spend large sums on math and science education and the interstate highway system. What's the challenge now? Maybe a big push to teach students about the rest of the world, a subject that most states don't even require. (Learning Arabic would be an especially patriotic act). Or international economic development to bolster moderate Muslims. Or energy independence.
But I can't handle such extrapolations just yet, so I spend an hour or two most days just wandering the streets of lower Manhattan looking for patriotism in the flesh. I'm rarely disappointed.
I visit a firehouse on South Street. Engine 4, Ladder 15. These were the firefighters who answered the first alarm. They raced up hundreds of stairs, helped to save thousands of people, then radioed that they were in the lobby as the tower collapsed. On the blackboard is an announcement that Scott Larsen's wife had a healthy boy on September 13. I scan the list of 14 missing out of 42 from this company, and Larsen's name is among them. Patriotism is heroism—risking it all for people you don't even know.
Walking toward Ground Zero, the Stars and Stripes are especially beautiful. We have been violated, and the flag, like a brilliant dreamcoat, warms and protects us—at least for now. Inside the "red zone" of wreckage, I see one plastered on the back of a hard hat and remember what being patriotic meant a generation ago. During the Vietnam War patriotism was nationalism. If you didn't buy in, you were out. The bumper sticker read AMERICA—LOVE IT OR LEAVE IT. Now it's UNITED WE STAND. Not for long, perhaps. There will be strong political differences again soon enough. But at least the flag itself is in less danger of becoming a political weapon at home. Patriotism is meaningful symbolism—comfort and inspiration for a hurting people.
I glimpse a huge flag at the New York Health and Racquet Club on Whitehall Street. Beneath it, a handmade sign: FOOD, SHOWERS, SLEEP, BATHROOM AND MASSAGE. EMERGENCY PERSONNEL WELCOME. Twenty-four hours a day. Indefinitely. This was yuppie New York paying tribute to firefighters and other public servants who risked their lives to protect brokerage houses and restaurants and health clubs they often couldn't even afford to patronize. Now millions around the world are stepping up to help the families of the victims (including prisoners in Louisiana, making 40 cents an hour, who have raised $11,000 so far). All good. But the truest patriots will expand that commitment to others who are needy. Patriotism means community—an ethic of service beyond one-time expressions of support.
I pass Wall Street, with its chilling view of the ruins. Some institu-tional investors, desperate for cash, needed to sell. But how can any patriotic American below retirement age unload his portfolio at a time like this? "Anyone who has ever bet against America has lost," New York Governor George Pataki tells me as we leave Ground Zero. Patriotism rejects pessimism.
At Union Square, the lefties are out in force, organizing to stop the war before it starts. NO WAR IS A JUST WAR is typical of their handmade signs. History has proven that thinking to be disastrous. A note nearby with a wilted white rose explains why: LOVE IS NOT AN APPROPRIATE REACTION TO EVIL. APPEASING EVIL ONLY MAKES IT STRONGER. Yet the freedom we stand for includes the freedom to be offensive and naive. Pacifism is hurtful, but so is blind loyalty. As Harry Truman said during World War II, government needs to be held accountable to make it work better. Patriotism champions tolerance, or it is empty.
Entering the 14th Street subway station, I see a picture of Roshawn and Khaniladai Singh, brother and sister. He has a tattoo of a tiger on his right shoulder and served in the Army Reserves; she wears a gold chain with a key charm. They both worked on the 106th floor at the restaurant Windows on the World in guest relations, fine citizens with their whole lives ahead of them. Later I reach their aunt on the phone. I tell her that people with last names like Singh are being attacked in parts of the United States by bigots. I ask her what country her family comes from. She politely refuses to answer: "We are Americans." And patriots.
Excerpted from BETWEEN THE LINES, a collection of articles chronicling the past 30 years in American political history. © 2008 by Jonathan Alter. All rights reserved.