Word it as softly as you please, the spirit of patriotism is the spirit
of the dog and wolf. The moment there is a misunderstanding about a boundary
line or a hamper of fish or some other squalid matter, see patriotism
rise, and hear him split the universe with his war-whoop. Patriotism is usually the refuge of the scoundrel. He is the man who
talks the loudest. |
AI image created by Barbara Schmidt |
Man is the only Patriot. He sets himself apart in his own country, under
his own flag, and sneers at the other nations, and keeps multitudinous
uniformed assassins on hand at heavy expense to grab slices of other people's
countries, and keep them from grabbing slices of his. And in the intervals
between campaigns he washes the blood off his hands and works for "the
universal brotherhood of man"- with his mouth. The soul and substance of what customarily ranks as patriotism is moral
cowardice -- and always has been. Patriot: the person who can holler the loudest without knowing what he
is hollering about. ...the true patriotism, the only rational patriotism, is loyalty to the
Nation ALL the time, loyalty to the Government when it deserves it. |
A man can be a Christian or a patriot, but he can't legally be a Christian
and a patriot -- except in the usual way: one of the two with the mouth,
the other with the heart. The spirit of Christianity proclaims the brotherhood
of the race and the meaning of that strong word has not been left to guesswork,
but made tremendously definite -- the Christian must forgive his brother
man all crimes he can imagine and commit, and all insults he can conceive
and utter -- forgive these injuries how many times? -- seventy times seven
-- another way of saying there shall be no limit to this forgiveness.
That is the spirit and the law of Christianity. Well -- Patriotism has
its laws. And it also is a perfectly definite one, there are not vaguenesses
about it. It commands that the brother over the border shall be sharply
watched and brought to book every time he does us a hurt or offends us
with an insult. Word it as softly as you please, the spirit of patriotism
is the spirit of the dog and wolf. The moment there is a misunderstanding
about a boundary line or a hamper of fish or some other squalid matter,
see patriotism rise, and hear him split the universe with his war-whoop.
The spirit of patriotism being in its nature jealous and selfish, is just
in man's line, it comes natural to him -- he can live up to all its requirements
to the letter; but the spirit of Christianity is not in its entirety possible
to him. In the beginning of a change the patriot is a scarce man, and brave,
and hated and scorned. When his cause succeeds, the timid join him, for
then it costs nothing to be a patriot. Patriotism is a high and holy thing. It will remain a high and holy thing,
and jointly admirable and praiseworthy, Christianity will never change
it. Its noble doctrine of universal brotherhood is for the angels, if
for anybody -- it is not possible for men. Christianity cannot teach a
fish to fly nor aliens to love each other. We can not even imagine a heaven
where there are no frontiers -- where all foreigners -- including Satan's
people -- are brothers, and Patriotism is a vice unknown. ... By the law
of his religion a Christian must labor for the breaking down of all walls
that interrupt the fusion of the race into a common brotherhood, and one
of the most formidable of these is Patriotism; it marches with every frontier
in the world. We teach them to take their patriotism at second-hand; to shout with
the largest crowd without examining into the right or wrong of the matter
-- exactly as boys under monarchies are taught and have always been taught.
We teach them to regard as traitors, and hold in aversion and contempt,
such as do not shout with the crowd, and so here in our democracy we are
cheering a thing which of all things is most foreign to it and out of
place -- the delivery of our political conscience into somebody else's
keeping. This is patriotism on the Russian plan. We have a bastard Patriotism, a sarcasm, a burlesque; but we have no
such thing as a public conscience. Politically we are just a joke. |
"Expatriates"
by Halsted Craig Hannah
Cover of Banana
Republic
catalog no. 32, Summer
1987.
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