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Politics : Right Wing Extremist Thread -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?


To: calgal who wrote (20529)11/20/2001 3:11:28 PM
From: calgal  Respond to of 59480
 
A timely reminder that the virtue of patriotism needs to be cultivated not only for its own sake but for the perpetuation of the republic itself.

ith the politically enabled decline of education in the United States at all levels, students even at the collegiate level have little knowledge of the history of their own country, let alone a knowledge of the intellectual foundations of Western culture that have shaped this nation. This bodes ill for an appreciation of what it means to be an American citizen. A generation ago, John Courtney Murray raised the question for his generation, "What does it mean to be an American?" The Jewish sociologist Will Herberg answered with a resounding, "To be American is to be religious." To him this meant being religious in one of three ways: as a Protestant, Catholic, or Jew. Sidney Hook begged to disagree: To be an American is to be religious or nonreligious.
Making Patriots, by Walter Berns, addresses Murray's question with some urgency. Recent patterns of immigration have changed the complexion of the American populace. The United States can no longer count on the unity of outlook provided by the common cultural background of the European immigrants of the nineteenth century. An influx of immigrants from Asia as well as the Middle East and Latin America has led to a cultural diversity that has undercut America's former unity. What does it mean to be an American citizen now? If, as Berns insists, to be an American is not simply to reside within a territory but to adhere to a set of principles articulated in the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution, what are those principles and how are they to be defended? While Berns does not describe the present situation as a crisis, he does recognize its seriousness.

Patriotism as a virtue

he virtue of patriotism, like love of country, Berns is convinced, cannot be taken for granted. One cannot love or be willing to serve something that one does not know. One glaring example is seen in the government's difficulty in recruiting and retaining military personnel. The citizen soldier seems to be a thing of the past. Since the 1960s, conscription has been rendered nearly impossible. The cultural revolution of that period found its way into the law as the Supreme Court extended "conscientious objection," originally restricted to those of a particular religious persuasion, to anyone who professes "deeply felt" reasons to object to military service. The resulting creation of an all-volunteer force has all but eradicated the tradition of the citizen soldier, conscripted and mobilized for some pressing cause. (The citizen soldier's identity was always fundamentally civilian; his participation in military life was temporary and provisional.) The example of the GIs who fought the major wars of the last century is but a memory.
Berns brings to his reflections on patriotism a formidable command of both classical and modern literature. He is at home at once in classical Greece, eighteenth-century England, and the period of the American founding. This erudition shows in the many
Walter Berns parallels and examples he offers, to the appreciation of the reader. As John M. Olin Professor Emeritus at Georgetown University, he is a resident scholar at the American Enterprise Institute, having taught at Yale, Cornell, the University of Toronto, and the University of Chicago. The author or editor of eight previous books, among them Freedom, Virtue, and the First Amendment and Taking the Constitution Seriously, he draws upon his teaching experience and historical research to provide a lively and accessible account of the meaning of patriotism through the ages.
It was well understood in the city-states of classical Greece, he tells us, that the words citizen and patriot were essentially the same. It is otherwise with Americans. They pledge allegiance to "the flag of the United States and to the Republic for which it stands." Americans should never be allowed to forget that the republic stands for a principle, an idea expressed as the conviction that all people are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights.
Echoing G.K. Chesterton, Berns writes that American life is uniquely founded on a set of political principles. Consequently, patriots are more than citizens or mere inhabitants of a nation; they may be devoted to their nation and prepared to defend it, but they are equally devoted to a set of principles. "It would be convenient to believe that citizens will be patriots, but, in fact, neither citizenship nor patriotism can be taken for granted, especially in a liberal democracy," he observes.
Lincoln, in speaking of "the patriots of seventy-six," wondered whether the men of his time would be prepared to sacrifice as their forebears did; Berns is even more concerned about the present generation. Patriotism entails love of country, and love of country implies a readiness to sacrifice for it, to fight for it, perhaps even to give one's life for it.

More than legal status

itizenship, Berns reminds us, is more than legal status; in its larger sense it is a sentiment or state of mind, an awareness of a shared identity with others to whom one is related by nationality, if not by blood. It entails a sense of belonging to a community for which one bears some responsibility. Citizenship implies public-spiritedness. Like patriotism, it has to be cultivated. No one is born loving his country. But the character of a country is not determined solely by a set of philosophical principles. The American republic is our birthplace as well as a set of principles. Robert E. Lee had to choose between principle and country when offered command of the Union troops by President Lincoln. Lee declined Lincoln's proffered commission and elected to fight for Virginia, saying that he could not raise his hand against his birthplace, home, and children. For Lincoln, country and principle were one and the same, but it was not so for Lee.
Berns reminds us that there is nothing peculiarly American about the principles expressed in the Declaration of Independence. Abstract and universal, they are
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Citizenship implies public-spiridness. Like patriotism, it has to be cultivated. No one is born loving his country.
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products of a political philosophy that could command the adherence of any people. The Declaration of Independence may have sparked a conflict, but it did not foment a revolution in sentiments, manners, and moral opinions as did the French Revolution. The nation remained wedded to English common law and the traditions it embodied. "Ours is not a parochial patriotism," writes Berns, "precisely because it comprises an attachment to principles that are universal." Unlike the ancient cities of Athens and Sparta and many countries today, "anybody can become an American, and millions of people from around the world have done so, which helps explain why that patriotic word 'fatherland' has no place in our vocabulary."
Believing that all people are endowed by nature's God with certain unalienable rights, Berns asks, in the words of Herbert Storing, "Does a constant emphasis on unalienable natural rights foster good citizenship or a sense of community?" If rights become primary, are duties secondary and derivative? Whence the compelling force behind the recognition of obligation? Questions like these inevitably turn the discourse to religion.
Speaking of the relation between love of God and love of country, Berns observes that whereas Athenians were committed body and soul to the city, Europe embraced a dual commitment subsequent to the rise of Christianity. Christ taught his followers to render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's and unto God the things that are God's. Granted their distinctness, how are these obligations to be related?

Locke's influence

erns is convinced that in declaring our independence and writing our Constitution, our founders took their bearings on religious tolerance from John Locke, in particular his Letter Concerning Toleration. In that treatise, his aim was not so much to get the state off the back of the churches but to get the churches off the back of the state. Locke's ambition was to take religion out of politics by consigning it (and thereby confining it) to the private sphere, where each person is free to worship or not as he sees fit. The business of the state, he thought, is the protection of life, liberty, and property, not the care of souls. Given Locke's position, we are first of all citizens and only secondarily Christians, Jews, Muslims, or adherents of any other religious confession.
Berns is aware that not everyone agrees with his interpretation of Locke's influence on the American founding and his claim that America was founded as a secular state. He insists that the appeals to "Laws of Nature and Nature's God," referred to in the Declaration of Independence, were not meant as synonyms for the biblical God, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. "Nature's God issues no commandments, no one can fall from his grace," he writes. "Nature's God endowed us with certain unalienable rights and then left us alone with the confidence that he will never interfere with our affairs. He allows us to worship other gods or no gods at all." Berns' point here is somewhat mystifying, no doubt meant to reinforce his thesis about Locke's influence. He fails to note that the Declaration of Independence also appeals to "the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions" and speaks of our "firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence," designations that any Christian would recognize as reference to the "God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob."
According to Locke, the right to freedom of worship can best be secured under secular auspices, under a government that takes no stand on matters of faith. Locke believed that reasonable men could pledge their allegiance and obey the laws without recourse to religious motivation. History does not bear that out. The secular-state school has become the instrument of the Enlightenment, allocating to itself the role of sole tutor. Religious parents who educate by their own lights pay the penalty of forfeiting their educational tax dollar.
While Berns is convinced that the United States was founded as a secular republic, he is not willing to say that religion is unimportant. He can agree with de Tocqueville, who saw the importance of religion in America to the governance of society, that what matters is not Christianity in a particular manifestation but religion in general. Washington clearly saw the indispensable connection between religion and morality. "It is not likely that morality can be maintained without religion," he wrote. Article 3 of the Ordinance of 1787 clearly states, "Religion, morality and knowledge being necessary to good government and the happiness of mankind, schools and the means of education shall forever be encouraged." John Jay recognized that political unity is dependent upon a similarity of manners, customs, and, above all, opinions concerning the principles of government. James Madison spoke of the importance of excluding the immigrant who could not readily incorporate himself into society.

E pluribus unum

hat makes us one people is not where we were born but rather our attachment to the principles enunciated in the Declaration of Independence. Current immigration policy and politically driven multiculturalism militate against unity created by adherence to a set of principles. Until the last half of the twentieth century, most immigrants were eager to assimilate, often at the expense of forfeiting their native languages and customs. Today that does not seem to be the case. Many immigrants never seek citizenship. In the case of Latin Americans, many demand that
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"This nation was not founded on an opinion. The men who declared our independence said, 'we hold these truths to be self-evident,' and in support of this declaration they pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor."
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American schools provide instruction in their native Spanish. Their numbers ensure that for the foreseeable future they will be able to maintain their own identity, culture, and language without the promise of eventual assimilation.
Rousseau pessimistically doubted that self-interested men could be made into patriotic citizens. In the debates leading to the adoption of the Constitution, the Anti-Federalist Charles Turner of Massachusetts wrote that "without the prevalence of Christian piety and morals, the best republican constitution can never save us from slavery and ruin." Jefferson agreed on the need for moral and civic education, differing only on whether religious training should be part of it. He saw that the most virtuous citizens are tied to the land, "tied to their country and wedded to its liberty and interests by the most lasting bonds."
True enough and perhaps sufficient then, but what of today? The proprietor of land is necessarily a citizen of a particular land, whereas the proprietor of a stock portfolio is not. The latter is a citizen of the world and not necessarily attached to a particular country. Berns--with a nod to Marx, who saw it clearly--writes, "Rather than being attached to his country, the capitalist is said to be at home in the market, and the market, as we have ever greater reason to know, has no national boundaries. Not love of country but the market determines where the capitalist buys his supplies, sells his products, and, of greatest consequence, invests his money."
Berns devotes a chapter entitled "The Patriot's Flag" to the value of that symbol. Americans "pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and to the Republic for which it stands," but do we teach those truths for which it stands? In his view, "Our schools teach 'social studies,' but neglect American history and biographies." Our universities have substituted Marx, Nietzsche, and Heidegger for Locke, Sidney, Montesquieu, and the classics read in the period of Jefferson. Politicians typically "know nothing about what is going on in the world of political theory, and our theorists typically do not believe it part of their job to promote the cause of republican government." Lost are the concepts of citizenship and the common good. The autonomous individual is left to claim his own idiosyncratic view of the good. The government itself may not put the weight of its authority behind any one conception of the good but must arbitrate between competing interests. This view of the role of government has come to be called "procedural democracy." Accordingly, the government must remain neutral or nonjudgmental, treating all claims as equal, including claims regarding the very meaning of republican government. If the republic stands for nothing in particular, the flag itself stands for nothing.
Over more than two centuries, Americans have put their lives at risk for their country and its principles. For the most part, they have understood the uniqueness of their land and have wanted their country to endure. Today students are led to believe that all cultures are equal, that there is nothing special about their country. Furthermore, they are "told by the highest court in the land that the flag stands for freedom of speech and opinion, meaning any speech and any opinion, because none is better or more valid than any other." Berns responds with a ringing conclusion: "But this nation was not founded on an opinion. The men who declared our independence said, 'we hold these truths to be self-evident,' and in support of this declaration they pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor. No one would make this pledge in support of an opinion, knowing it to be merely an opinion and, therefore, no more worthy of respect than its opposite."
Berns leaves it there. He does not draw the inevitable conclusion, but along the way he provides many hints.

Jude P. Dougerty is dean emeritus of the School of Philosophy at the Catholic University of America and the editor of the Review of Metaphysics. He is the author of the recently published Western Creed, Western Identity (CUA Press, 2000) and the forthcoming Logic of Religion.

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