The 19th-century German poet Heinrich Heine compared the insular patriotism of his homeland with the more cosmopolitan patriotism of France saying that ‘We [Germans]’ “were ordered to be patriots and we became patriots, for we do everything our rulers order us to do. One must not think of this patriotism, however, as the same emotion which bears this name here in France. A Frenchman’s patriotism means that his heart is warmed, and with this warmth it stretches and expands so that his love no longer embraces merely his closest relative, but all of France, the whole of the civilized world. A German’s patriotism means that his heart contracts and shrinks like leather in the cold, and a German then hates everything foreign, no longer wants to become a citizen of the world, a European, but only a provincial German.”[1]
Does patriotism stretch the heart or shrink it like leather in the cold?
As with many of political thickets discussed in this essay series, when examining the idea of patriotism, it is useful to first highlight the erroneous and threatening beliefs on the nationalist right and strident left before asserting the value of a libertarian-progressive viewpoint. The populist nationalists are hyper-enthusiastic about honoring the symbols and trappings of Americana: the flag, bald eagles, the founding fathers, the founding fathers waving flags while riding bald eagles, etc. At the same time, they are just as eager to militantly police the boundaries of who gets to be considered a “real” American. In their view, a 50s-style diner is American, but a Cambodian restaurant is to be intellectually cordoned off as ‘foreign’ or ‘ethnic.’ To enjoy the Cambodian food makes one as either an unassimilated newcomer and so not-yet-American or, perhaps worse, as an elite who just doesn’t get the “real” America that apparently only eats out at diners and nowhere else.
Meanwhile, radical parts of left, partially though not entirely out of overreaction against the populist nationalists, have come to actively disdain open pride in the United States except perhaps in international sporting contexts like the World Cup and the Olympics. To them, America’s past and present sins are so great that America is rotten to the core and so expressions of pride in America are tantamount to, at minimum ignorance, if not outright bigotry. That skepticism of patriotism then often gets mixed with a cultural superiority complex towards those whose tastes they see as less sophisticated. To them, celebrating diners is dismissed out of hand as empathizing with the kind of white people who think mayonnaise is spicy. It says something awfully sad about this country that even our food has become so politicized.
When I talk to my students about nationalism, one of the questions that I often get asked is to explain the difference between nationalism and patriotism. There are obviously scores of books and scholarly articles on this topic, but my first response is usually to say that nationalism is fundamentally exclusive. Nationalism starts by arguing that there are groups of people who share a common set of characteristics (usually some combination of language, ethnicity, religion, history, and culture) and that these groups of people are entitled to control a given territorial space. A micro-dose of nationalism- particularly in a small and already pretty homogeneous country like Denmark or in a country that makes multiculturalism a point of emphasis as Canada does- can be fairly benign. It amounts to little more than cultural and civic pride. In a diverse, large, powerful country however, nationalism is toxic. In those contexts, in practice, basing one’s politics on nationalism usually leads to hostility toward external other nations and, perhaps even more problematically, internal others who do not share one or more of those characteristics. In today’s America, nationalists’ obsession with authenticity fuses with status anxiety, and to be frank a certain amount of racism a la Great Replacement Theory, to form a corrosive brew that eats away at social trust and tears at the sinews of the body politic.
Patriotism on the other hand, particularly in the American context, is inclusive and fundamentally about shared universalistic values. Whereas nationalism prizes conformity and sameness, patriotism emphasizes the productive combination of difference and community. E Pluribus unum patriotism is written into our political DNA (the motto even predates the Constitution). This kind of patriotism is also a widely shared belief. More than 70 percent of Black, white, and Latino poll respondents report feeling proud to be American.[2] When broken out into age and political typology, majorities of every age cohort and of every political persuasion (with the notable and worrisome exception of progressive activists) express pride in being American.[3]
Perhaps this is wishful thinking, but it is possible that the markedly lower level of expressed American pride among progressive activists and Gen Z is simply a backlash to Trumpism and the knucklehead ressentiment of populist nationalists’ “USA! USA!” chants. While it is not as immediately dangerous as nationalism, this post-patriotic sentiment on the left is and ought to be worrying. It not only alienates progressive activists from other political participants and vice versa, it probably fuels radicalism too. If America really isn’t worth reforming, then why not burn the whole thing down?
My hope however is that, if these progressive activists and Gen Z citizens can be shown an inclusive patriotism, they might be persuaded to embrace more of that patriotism. Conversely, if soft-nationalists and nationalism-friendly conservatives can be shown that there is a way for them to express patriotism that won’t terrify and insult their fellow citizens, then perhaps they too could feel less embattled and so would tamp down some of their more exclusionary rhetoric, to the benefit of everyone. What would be even better is if the same example of inclusive patriotism could work for both groups. Quite fortunately just such a thing exists.
The example that I always use with my students- many of whom would probably self-describe as progressive activists- for what an inclusive patriotism looks like is Guy Fieri’s hit TV show “Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives.” That example always gets a few students to chuckle, but I’m completely serious. That show is the most wonderfully inclusive patriotism there is. It is a pitch-perfect celebration of America’s dazzling diversity. It highlights small businesses of virtually every cultural stripe in virtually every nook and cranny of this country. Not only that, but there is not one scintilla of elitism in triple D’s embrace of multiculturalism. Fieri’s affect adds to this. As comedian Shane Torres- who was doing a bit about how great Fieri is- memorably put it “Guy Fieri’s hair looks like he was electrocuted while drinking Mountain Dew.”
That kind of self-embrace of different and embrace of others who are different makes everyone feel not just welcome but valued. Imagine that: an America where everyone gets to belong and to contribute and to feel good about themselves, their businesses, their community, and their country. The show is, in its own way, a compelling and persuasive argument that everyone can rise together, that there is community and good-feelings to be had and that diversity only adds to that- it does not subtract. The Cambodian restaurant and the coal-town diner are both authentically American. Flavortown is for everybody because America is for everybody.
This positivity about America stands in marked contrast to the seemingly relentless negativity about America that comes from the left and the right. The left is so preoccupied with America’s vices that it cannot see its virtues. Meanwhile, the right, despite its penchant for flag-waving and its love of the halcyon days of yore, seems to genuinely dislike the actual America of 2022. It sees only carnage and decline. Fieri’s patriotism by contrast is excited about the America of today and tomorrow. It is optimistic, and there’s a lot to like about that.
An additional subtle but important angle to Guy Fieri’s patriotism is that it’s society-driven rather than statist. The businesses that Fieri highlights, advertises, and celebrates are an important part of that middle layer society between the individual and the state. That middle layer (businesses, family, friends, community) is where you can find so much of the richness of America from little league soccer to thriving synagogues. That’s not to say that the state cannot sometimes play an important role in building things that bring us together. The National Parks and America’s public universities are two examples of that. But at the end of the day, the state exists to serve society, not the other way around.
There are so very many things that this country has to be proud of. In 2014, Coca-Cola ran a Super Bowl ad featuring ‘America the Beautiful’ sung in eight different languages. The ad itself was beautiful and moving. Amanda Gorman’s “The Hill We Climb” fits in this mold as well. These too are examples of what a non-nationalistic, inclusive patriotism looks like. This is the kind of patriotism that a libertarian-progressive alliance champions, a patriotism that doesn’t boss people around or tell them that they exist to further some abstract ideal of nationhood but rather celebrates individual people, their ambitions, and their contributions to society.
That’s Guy Fieri patriotism, and it’s great!
[1] As quoted in Tony Judt. 2005. Postwar: A History of Europe Since 1945. Penguin Press: New York. p. 799.
[2] More in Common. “American Fabric: Identity and Belonging.” December 2020. p. 13.
[3] The chart is from More in Common. “American Fabric: Identity and Belonging.” December 2020. p. 14.