I chose to write about how the American Revolution really was an honest-to-goodness revolution and was seen as a really big deal at the time—and for the half century after. But then, by the middle of the 19th century, the American Revolution was cut out of the story of the “revolutionary tradition” because it was deemed too bourgeois, too boring, and too “conservative,” in part because it was too successful. Lovers of revolutions tend to prefer failures in pursuit of purity over successes built on grubby compromise.
I think this is an important point to make on the Fourth of July. Longtime readers know I think there’s a big difference between patriotism and nationalism. Having argued with people about this for a very long time, I am happy to concede that the difference can seem a little contrived. Etymologically and historically, patriotism and nationalism were often interchangeable terms, and they remain so for many people. In other words, there are plenty of folks who call themselves “nationalists,” but they don’t believe they are saying anything other than calling themselves patriots.
But when I talk about patriotism and nationalism being different things, I am talking about how there are two different concepts or ways of loving your country. For me, nationalism (for want of a better term) is a form of populism (the original nationalist movements were indistinguishable from populism). It’s an attachment to the country or the people, or in some cases, an ethnic or religious understanding of who counts as “the people.” Many 19th– and early 20th-century nationalists often defined the “American people” in ways that excluded many American citizens (black people, immigrants, Catholics, Jews, etc). Others didn’t. There are many forms of nationalism. But the point is that the concept of nationalism, as I am using it, is concerned with groups, culture, us-versus-them stuff.
The classic nationalist refrain is to say something like “America isn’t an ‘idea,’ it’s a place.” I don’t object to the idea that America is a place, a home, a culture. Because that is true. A little nationalism is not only natural, it’s healthy. “This is my country and I love it because it is mine,” is not a sinister sentiment, but a wholesome one. A little nationalism binds a country together because it appeals to a familial sense of solidarity. Nationalism only becomes poisonous with the dose.
But patriotism, again as I mean it, is something different. Patriotism in the American political tradition is a commitment to our ideals. Mobs are nationalistic. Patriots stand up to mobs. The man or woman who stands up to the mob, who says we must obey the Constitution, the rule of law, or simply the highest, best versions of the “American way,” even when those versions are unpopular or inconvenient, is drawing on patriotism more than nationalism. Again, if you don’t like my framing of these terms, that’s fine. But I think the concepts I am elucidating are important regardless of semantic objections.
And by my lights, the Fourth of July is more of a patriotic holiday than a nationalistic one. Sure, it has nationalistic elements. Rockets bursting in air and all that. But beneath the bombast, the fact remains that we celebrate a text, a statement of principles, a vision on the Fourth of July. The Declaration of Independence didn’t signal a victory in a war. If that were what we were celebrating, we’d be eating hot dogs on September 3, the date in 1783 when the Revolutionary War ended with the signing of the Treaty of Paris. No, the Fourth of July is the date when America said, in effect, “This is what we’re about.”
As Abraham Lincoln and Martin Luther King Jr. explained in 1863 and 1963, respectively, we didn’t live up to our ideals when the Declaration was signed. But that “promissory note,” as King called it, laid down the glorious and historically radical ideals we committed to as a nation. Those who denigrate or dismiss the founding are right to note that we fell short of ideals then—and in some ways continue to do so. But that’s how ideals work. They are things to strive for, North Stars to guide us. And they are worth celebrating and, hopefully, in the process, reaffirming.
Various & Sundry
Canine Update: Sadly, I have to take Zoë to the Bad Place today, because she is emitting an unpleasant odor that seems distinct from normal doggie stinkiness. Have a good thought. Anyway, the girls were not pleased to be left with our daughter while we were in Aspen. It was insanely hot, and my daughter’s idea of waking up early is rising before lunchtime. But they all managed okay, despite the unbearable heat and humidity and the incessant thunderstorms. They also had good times with Kirsten on the midday walks (and Lucy actually let them in a creek over the weekend, which we initially thought was the source of Zoë’s olfactory offense). A lot of folks asked for a welcoming committee video, but I couldn’t get one. When we got home, they were hiding from the skybooms. Or to be more accurate, they were fast asleep in their chosen bunkers. They only emerged after I put the camera away. I’ve done some excellent bonding with them since I’ve been back, and I think they’ve forgiven us.
Also, a new GLoP has dropped.
The Dispawtch
Owner’s name: Jim Pack Jr.
Why I’m a Dispatch member: I joined as soon as The Dispatch was launched. I have followed Jonah Goldberg, Steve Hayes, and David French for many years and always admired their work. And the addition of so many great writers and entertaining podcasts have made The Dispatch my “go to” for news.
Personal Details: I retired a couple of years ago after a 30-year career in retail. I graduated from Lipscomb University with a degree in political science in the early ’90s (just like David French). My politics shifted to the conservative view once I saw how difficult it is to operate a business in America, with the nanny state producing insane policies that even experts have a challenging time explaining. As Reagan stated, “the nine most terrifying words in the English language are: I’m from the Government and I’m here to help.” My daily 3-mile walk with Lily Mae is perfect for listening to the flagship podcast, The Remnant, and my other favorite, Advisory Opinions.
Gotcha Story: From a young age, I have admired sighthounds and aspired to have one as a pet. Lily Mae was born on a farm in Charleston, Tennessee, and we loved her coloring and playfulness.
Pet’s Likes: Running on the beach, playing tug of war, or using all her effort to destroy any stuffed toy. She keeps the house entertained with her antics and her often outlandish behavior. Lily Mae also loves to stretch out in the sun on our porch, which we call recharging.
Pet’s Dislikes: Most dogs have two layers of coats, but sighthounds have only one coat. So, Lily Mae gets cold easily and hates getting wet, making baths torture for her.
Pet’s Proudest Moment: We have a condo on the beach and spend a good bit of time there. Our daily walks produce a flurry of attention, with folks wanting to meet Lily Mae and take pictures. From that experience, I know what it feels like to be pals with a celebrity. I mean, just look at her picture: This is a draw-me-like-one-of-your-French-girls moment if ever there was one. She’s a beauty, and she knows it.
Bad Pet: We joke that her full name is “Lily Mae be in trouble.” She recently stole a baguette with a stealthy move to bypass parental security and get her prize outdoors. We captured it on our security camera and the theft is a thing of beauty when one plays the Mission: Impossible theme along to the video.
Do you have a quadruped you’d like to nominate for Dispawtcher of the Week and catapult to stardom? Let us know about your pet by clicking here. Reminder: You must be a Dispatch member to participate.
