Patriotism

THOUGHT OF THE DAY: "A patriotic American is a man who is not thoughtless of other men's rights... but who is thinking of the rights and privileges of all who are fellow-citizens of the larger community of the world." - Woodrow Wilson, from his 4th of July Address in 1914. Patriotism gets a bad rap because it can be abused, and sometimes is abused. It is love and loyalty to one's home, a natural instinct, and one that contributes to one's personal happiness. It is not a belief that other nations are anything less to those that have them as their homes.

That is a thoughtful distinction, and it is very close to what Woodrow Wilson was trying to express in that quotation.

Patriotism, in its ordinary sense, is attachment to a place, a people, a history, and a set of institutions. Most people feel something analogous on smaller scales: affection for a family, a town, a school, or even a neighborhood. There is nothing inherently hostile about such attachments. In fact, they often motivate sacrifice and public service. A person who loves their country may be more willing to pay taxes honestly, vote conscientiously, serve in emergencies, or work to improve its shortcomings.

The difficulty arises when patriotism slides into nationalism of an exclusionary kind—the belief that one's nation is not merely one's own, but somehow superior in worth, or entitled to privileges denied to others. At that point, love of home becomes a ranking of homes. The sentiment has changed character.

I think your formulation captures an important point: my home need not be the best home in the world for me to love it. Most people do not believe their mother is objectively the finest mother who ever lived, yet they love her particularly because she is their mother. Patriotism can work in much the same way. One can be deeply attached to one's country while fully recognizing the dignity and legitimacy of other countries and cultures.

There is also a practical aspect. Human beings seem to organize their loyalties in concentric circles. We care for family more directly than strangers, for neighbors more directly than distant populations, and for fellow citizens more directly than foreigners. The challenge is not to eliminate those circles but to prevent them from becoming walls. Wilson's "larger community of the world" is an attempt to preserve local loyalties while acknowledging broader human obligations.

History gives examples of both sides. Patriotism helped sustain democratic societies during crises and inspired movements for self-government. It has also been exploited by leaders seeking power, who redefine loyalty to country as loyalty to themselves. Because of that abuse, some people become suspicious of patriotism itself. Yet the abuse of a virtue does not necessarily invalidate the virtue.

A person can love their country in much the same way they love their home: wishing it well, wanting to improve it, and feeling gratitude for it—without concluding that everyone else's home is inferior. That seems to be the balance you are describing.

There is a joy in "The Star Spangled Banner," difficult though it is and although I much prefer "America the Beautiful." The scene of "La Marseilles" in the Bogart film reveals patriotisms real joy.

I think you're putting your finger on something that critics of patriotism sometimes miss: patriotism is not only a political idea, it is also an emotion, and often a joyful one.

The Star-Spangled Banner is a difficult anthem to sing, but when a crowd reaches the final lines successfully, there is a sense of shared celebration. Yet many Americans, including musicians, have a special affection for America the Beautiful because it is easier to sing and because its patriotism is expressed through gratitude and admiration rather than defiance. It praises landscapes, ideals, and aspirations rather than military victory.

The scene you mention is from Casablanca, where the patrons sing La Marseillaise to drown out the German officers. It remains one of the most moving patriotic scenes in cinema. What strikes me is that the emotional power comes not from claims of French superiority but from longing for home and freedom. Many of the characters are exiles or refugees. The song becomes an affirmation of identity and hope rather than a boast.

That may be why patriotic music can be so powerful. At its best, it evokes memories, landscapes, language, ancestors, shared struggles, and common aspirations. The emotion is akin to homesickness. One need not believe one's country is the greatest on earth to feel a lump in the throat when hearing a familiar anthem.

In fact, some of the most patriotic works are also the most self-critical. A person who truly loves a country often wants it to live up to its ideals. The patriot says, "This is my home, and I want it to be better." The chauvinist says, "My home is perfect already."

The joy in La Marseillaise in Casablanca comes, I think, from seeing people reclaiming something they love that has been threatened. The scene reminds us that patriotism is often less about pride than about belonging.