Recent discussion in the CP discussion group regarding the American gods and the documentation I put together a while back got me thinking about patriotism, and helped me find the words I needed to discuss it.
Short story short, I love my country. Adore it, even. But when I discuss “my country,” I generally mean just that–my country, not my nation. I love the people of the country (for the most part), and I most especially love the country itself, the land and water and the genii loci. The American spirits are important to me. I’m born American and have never set foot beyond United States soil. I’ve discussed this before, how intrinsically linked my identity is with the land I grew up on and called home my whole life up until about this time last year.
In short, by its strictest definition, I’m a patriot.
Definition:
pa·tri·ot
nouna person who vigorously supports their country and is prepared to defend it against enemies or detractors.
In recent years, with the advent of more publically vocal social justice work, “patriot” is a bad word, and for good reason. Patriot usually indicates nationalism, and nationalism has rarely brought anything good to fruition. Nationalism is responsible for some of the worst human atrocities in human memory. Nationalism, insofar as it indicates blindly following the whims of the nation and the mob mentality, is not a good thing.
So how can I justify patriotism in any sense?
Part of my loyalty to my homeland–and this is a very important part–is the dedication to improve its nation. To work to correct injustices. The concept of “government,” Big Government, cumbersome and slow creature that it is, has become an oppressive force, particularly to younger people such as myself. Again, that’s for good reason. Young people, from college students to the homeless, have an incredibly difficult time affecting even local legislation in any significant way. No twenty-something is going to get voted into office.
But what we forget is that, burdensome though it might be, corrupted though it is, the government is our government. On its most fundamental and ideal level, it’s a democracy.
This brings me to the American pantheon, and who they are, and what they do. And, particularly, why are American gods, potentially patrons of manifest destiny and Native slaughter and Confederate slavery, even worthy of our attention or praise?
The United States has absolutely done some horrible things. But not its gods.
Now, there’s room for discrepancy here. On a personal note, I have some distaste for Uncle Sam for this reason. Uncle Sam is, at the root, a personification of the United States itself, the nation, the government. He’s a recent personification, so no, he wasn’t there for many of the older crimes that this nation has committed, but he was created within that context, and that shouldn’t be overlooked. In short… I don’t like him. Most offerings I might do for Uncle Sam would be either A) in the context of voting and governmental participation, or B) atropopaic.
I don’t want Uncle Sam’s attention. I think that Uncle Sam, “I Want You!” Uncle Sam, warfaring Uncle Sam whose personifications repeatedly attack and defeat the personifications of other countries, does not have my best interests as an individual at heart, and I think that Uncle Sam likely favors congressmen and similar persons, not a young college student like myself.
But Lady Liberty is… a different matter.
Where Uncle Sam is government, nationalism, industrialism, war, the Lady is more rooted in ideals. Uncle Sam likely looks at me as a potential burden or asset to the State, but the Lady likely looks at me as a citizen–a Citizen, a free and equal member of a union that protects and aids its people. The Lady has my best interests at heart because that is what the Lady is.
The imagery of Lady Liberty is incredibly complex, in comparison to most of the new American gods, likely because she was initially designed to be a permutation of Roman goddess Libertas. (For those wondering, no, I don’t think they’re the same goddess whatsoever. The statue wasn’t designed or forged with religious purposes in mind; it was designed, using traditional imagery, for the United States, with symbolism emblematic of the US.)
The Lady is meant to stand over the harbor, where once immigrants passed through Ellis Island in pursuit of the American Dream. She carries a torch to guide the way and holds a tabula ansata to follow the word of the law. On her ankle there is a broken chain, evoking the image of freedom.
On that note, the Lady is heavily symbolized to be against slavery and oppression. The broken chain, yes, as well as, for example, the pileus she wears–the pileus is a type of circlet or diadem given to emancipated slaves in ancient Rome (a powerful enough symbol for it to be argued over, as Confederates disapproved of this imagery, seeing it as an abolitionist symbol). The Lady has also been called “Mother of Exiles,” caretaker of those with nowhere else to go. The torch, which is traditionally a beacon to immigrants, plays into this symbolism, representing (as torches tend to do) enlightenment.
So. Long rant, right? Anyway, my point is this.
Where Uncle Sam, being constructed by and for the government, is therefore inspired and enlivened by that same government, Lady Liberty was born of an ideal. That ideal is freedom, peace, protection of the weak, enlightenment, equality! There’s a poem inscribed on the statue’s base called “The New Colossus,” by Emma Lazarus:
“Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.”Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
A far cry from Uncle Sam’s sad reality, right? “The New Colossus” calls for an abandonment of grandeur and classist bureaucracy and so many other things that plague our government to this day. But even so, Lady Liberty is an ideal, an impossible ideal, the embodiment of the American Dream. “Mother of Exiles.”
In a way, I see Uncle Sam and Lady Liberty being constantly at odds. Uncle Sam is a creature of aggression, destructive industrialism, cruel efficiency at the cost of the individual, and Big Government, where Lady Liberty calls for peace, freedom, hope, the equal valuation of every citizen, every member, on her soil.
This is, in its own way, how I justify my pride in my country. I am not proud of what we are, what we’ve done, the crimes we as a nation have committed, including ongoing ones–wars, nuclear destruction, aggressive nationalism, and so forth. But I am proud of the ideal: I am proud to work for a better future, something closer to what was imagined when everyone had the idea of the American Dream in their heads.
So let’s return to that definition, shall we?
pa·tri·ot
nouna person who vigorously supports their country and is prepared to defend it against enemies or detractors.
In my mind, in my prerogative, this definition fits, but it’s not perfect, and it could easily be mistaken for nationalism–and I am by no means a nationalist. There’s no word for what I feel in regard to this, no word closer than “patriot,” but if I could reword the definition to apply to me in particular, it would be thus:
pa·tri·ot
nouna person who vigorously supports what their country could be and is prepared to defend it (through vote, protest, and similar actions) against enemies such as those who seek to inhibit freedom or oppress,or detractors.
In my eyes, it’s often nationalists, and “patriots” with their own agenda, who are some of these “enemies.” And detractors are vital–if anything, I’m a detractor. But I believe that criticism must be made. I love my friends, and I love their work, but if I don’t point out the flaws and mistakes, how will they improve and learn?
(I don’t understand how anyone could look around, could see the obvious injustices and the rampant corruption, and think, “yes, I want to preserve this.” There are parts to be preserved, the land and the people and the ideal and the groundwork, but why would you not want to do your best to move forward and improve the nation you claim to support?)
Perhaps I’m just shooting fire out of my own ass. (I made that phrase up on accident right now and I’m keeping it.) But state and government, faith and religion, are intertwined as genii loci are intertwined with their lands and families, or as the dead are tied to the living. Not the same, but incapable of being unaffected by the other.
The Lady Liberty is an inspiring figure to me because she’s a protectorate of the “small people,” like me and my family. She knows the struggle of day-to-day life and she resents it. I don’t think she could possibly approve of the current state of affairs.
So, in short? When I petition Uncle Sam, it’s to stay away and stay quiet. When I petition Lady Liberty, it’s for justice, or freedom, or for the health of the land and its spirits and people. Or, frequently, to fix or change something Uncle Sam himself has done, or to influence Uncle Sam to be just and progressive. To wave the torch of enlightenment in his face and remind him of what he’s supposed to stand for. And in the same way, both politically and religiously within the context of the American pantheon, we have that same duty.
Nemeton Nigromanticos 