Un-American

This is the part where I’m supposed to open with something banal and faux high-minded like “‘being American’ means many different things to many different people” or “one man’s ‘un-American’ is another man’s ‘patriotic’”. I like to think you’re already aware of such things, and that you don’t like being patronized. There’s obviously a rich history of people combatively trying to define and take ownership of what it means to “be American” and who should be branded with the mark of “un-American” or “anti-American.” And while I’m about to engage in this to an extent myself, I really want to make the case for looking beyond this patriotic pissing contest when we discuss our affairs and policies. Why hide behind these appeals to American identity and idealism when we ought to just cut to the chase and say what we’re really talking about? Right versus wrong. Should versus shouldn’t.

I started thinking about this little piece in June of 2018, a moment when national attention focused squarely on the United States’ practice of separating undocumented immigrant children from their parents and placing them in detention facilities as a part of the Trump Administration’s zero-tolerance policy on illegal immigration. There has been extensive bickering over who’s fault it is, the legality of the practice (and whether or not the legality is even relevant), and thanks to Attorney General Jeff Sessions we’ve even had to discuss this policy in context with Christian scripture. But one point of indignation, typically raised by establishment-minded liberals, centrists, and disingenuous anti-Trump republicans is this six-word mantra: “this is not who we are.” This practice of armed agents of the state tearing terrified and crying children from their parents and taken into cages and holding pens, well “this is not who we are,” they declare. This appeal to who “we are” as a nation, is a clear attempt to paint the practice as un-American. And as many people immediately and correctly responded: yes, this is in fact exactly who we are.
Which brings me to the meat of the issue — in many significant ways, American values and rhetoric are frequently at odds with American practice and behavior. Whether based in blindness to the country’s history, shameless partisan hackery, or just plain cognitive dissonance, there always seems to be an excuse for our society’s conduct, past and present. The examples are almost too numerous to list, too tedious to analyze for the purpose of this piece, but the broad strokes must be mentioned. The very establishment of our country was based in conquest and genocide of the native people, with the subsequent building and development coming via the brutal exploitation of African slaves. And as time slowly crept forward, our domestic policy begrudgingly extended citizenship and quasi-freedom to black people, voting rights to women, a few scraps of semi-autonomous land to the remaining natives, and marriage rights to homosexuals. Valid gains to be sure, but all at significant human costs and with inherent conditions that ultimately limit their value. The civil rights horror-show always dragged along slowly and painfully, and still does to a considerable degree. And then there’s the exploitation and utterly heartless treatment of American workers. Again, another arrow that has bent toward progress but one that is perhaps the most behind schedule and even regressing at this moment in time.
On the topic of foreign policy, for the last few centuries our freedom and democracy-loving government has functioned as a merciless and bloodthirsty juggernaut, marching around the planet to expand our sphere of influence, ensuring “American interests” are present at nearly any given time or place, interests that can subsequently be declared “at risk” any time some other society makes the grave and audacious calculation to pursue any form of self-determination that doesn’t have the full blessing of America’s shadowy corporate elite. In that case, our options have been either direct military intervention or various backdoor machinations to install and support any ruthless and bloodthirsty dictator we can find to do our bidding. Of all the ugly legacies threaded into the fabric of American history, this could be considered the most consistent and prominent. Our role in World War II could have been a mostly honorable exception, but the detonation of two nuclear bombs, the annihilation of Dresden, and our own internment of Japanese-Americans cast a dark and heinous shadow on the endeavor.
Why the focus on the negatives? To be sure, the United States has been witness to great advances in humanity and civilization. Many great and brilliant Americans have innumerable accomplishments to their names. But none of this good erases the bad. None of it excuses the persistent shame coursing through our nation’s existence. And that brings me back to the point — the American Exceptionalism we often proclaim is almost constantly a direct contradiction of the actions we take. And it’s significant because it continues in full force to this day.
To a degree, I understand that many people have an urge to form and emulate national identities and ideals. Maybe people like to believe that not only are they good and decent individuals, but also that the societal values they inherit are fundamentally right. It’s much more easy and comfortable to accept and work within the ideological framework one is given than it is to examine it with a critical eye and forge a new path. And the longer people allow pride to become associated with this inherited identity, the harder it is to change. So when ultimately challenged, those that are bound to their sense of American ideals will either go into spectacular mental gymnastics to marry our ugly historical behavior to our flowery stated ideals, or they’ll just ignore history altogether: “this is not who we are!” (A third response is simply unabashed white nationalism).
These things could be discussed and dissected at great length for other purposes but my point here is that couching political discourse in American versus non-American terms accomplishes nothing worthwhile. Any behavior or value is good or bad on its own merits, completely unrelated to the human-made geographical boundaries it inhabits. If, for example, someone advocates for single-payer healthcare and is derided as un-American, what the fuck does that even really mean? Or conversely, if a group of protestors is lauded as “truly American” for their dissent, what should one infer from such a ludicrous statement? Is universal healthcare bad because some people think it’s un-American? Is freedom of expression somehow special only because it an oft-stated American value? It’s ridiculous to make moral judgments on these things based on their perceived fit within a country’s history. It’s merely a tactic used to avoid substantive discussion, an irrelevant, meta-statement empty of value. Such behavior only derails the discussion into pointless and ugly divisiveness that ultimately perpetuates the destructive nationalist ethos that has slithered its way throughout the ugliest branches of American history.
There is probably some truth to the argument that a society, whether bound by regional factors or defined by literal statehood, will create and maintain an evolving identity with some norms unique to itself. I suppose it’s an inescapable aspect of life. But no society should allow its ability to navigate domestic affairs and conflicts to be inhibited by counterproductive appeals to its own self-image. It’s empty and pathetic behavior, and Americans would be doing themselves a great favor by removing this barrier from The Discourse.