Ambivalent American - When Falls the Coliseum

Published 2001
When Falls the Coliseum

Ambivalent American

For several years now, my car has been adorned with four bumper stickers: Two that say "Free Tibet!," one that says "Andalucia," which is the southern region of Spain, and one that says "Alba," the Latin word for Scotland. Each of these stickers reflects my political and cultural interests, and I display them with pride.

Of course, these days my car stands out like a sore thumb, because absent among these vehicular embellishments is the good ol' American flag.

Now, for some, I might be deemed the ultimate traitor. In the midst of this national nightmare, why would I choose to trumpet the glories of other cultures but not my own?

The answer is two-fold. First off, I am not flag-happy. I have never been a banner-waver, because for me it would signal that I champion my country over others, and I do not do that. My mind is not cast in the attitude that pits one country against another. The world for me is not one big soccer match; the world for me is like a multi-patterned quilt that provides shelter for us all.

The second (and most important) reason I do not fly the American flag is that right now I harbor an agonizing ambivalence toward my country. If I were to display the American flag on my car or anywhere else, it would mean that I unconditionally love my country, and that's simply not the case.

Now don't get me wrong; I do love my country. And I am not saying that because I cower in the face of the current (and frankly unsettling) nationalistic fervor. I don't cower and I don't care what others think of my opinions. But if I didn't love my country, I wouldn't be here; I would be in Spain or Scotland, two of my favorite European countries. I was born in America, I have lived in three states, and have traveled to many more. America is my home, and right now I cannot conceive of living anywhere else.

But just because America is my home does not mean that I am uncritical of it. Indeed, if we were uncritical of all those things that are familiar to us, we'd never change jobs, and we'd never try to improve our relationships. And imagine the stagnation and resentment that would ensue if we allowed a friend to continually insult us, or a lover to continually neglect our needs.

In the same way that I would be critical of a negligent companion, I am critical of America, a country I love, yet am sometimes chagrined to inhabit.

As I was driving to South Carolina recently, I saw a car that boasted on its back window a painted message that encapsulates my present sentiments. The message read: "How can God bless until we as a country repent of our mess?"

Now, if the driver of said car interprets our "mess" to be of the ilk that cuddly evangelist Jerry Falwell described in the wake of the terrorist attacks, i.e., feminism, homosexuality, etc., then I grandly denounce this car's message. However, if the driver interprets our "mess" to be our greed as a nation and our government's self-serving foreign policy, then I would have to concur with the idea that we have some repenting to do, not so much in the eyes of a god, but in the eyes of the world.

But before anyone starts deluging my e-mail box with myopic McCarthyist missives, let me state that I do not feel that the attacks on the WTC and Pentagon were in any way justified. Read my lips: Those who died in the September 11 terrorist tragedies did not deserve their fate. No one anywhere in the world deserves to die this way. I am outraged and sickened that this happened. No matter how unhappy anyone is with another country's foreign policy, terrorism is no way to make those grievances known. I have long been disconcerted over the IRA's terrorist tactics in the UK, and have always felt that terrorism perverts the very ideals that the perpetrators claim to hold.

In the same way, Islamic terrorists have a muddled mentality when it comes to expressing their anger at what they clearly perceive as American hedonism. Terrorism does not further their cause, but rather debilitates it. In my mind, if you don't like greed and the amorality of a largely secular lifestyle, a far more effective weapon is to guide by serene example, ala the Dalai Lama. I mean, he's not exactly a poster-boy for selfishness and materialism, and yet I don't see him crashing a bunch of commercial airplanes into skyscrapers and government buildings.

So yes, the terrorists were wrong, grievously wrong, to do what they did, and now, not only have they extinguished the sacred lives of innocent civilians, but entire populations of Muslims, many of whom endeavor to practice pure Islam rather than this screwed-up terrorist version, are going to suffer. Already we're hearing of Middle Easterners being expelled from airplanes to appease paranoid (xenophobic?) travelers, and of course Muslim countries are the targets of current and impending military strikes.

And that's where America comes in. While I do advocate combatting terrorism in an aggressive manner, I am not so sure that our "war" on terrorism, at least militarily, will be the answer. Initially, I thought that maybe, just maybe, if we could just send our troops in to wipe away the terrorists themselves, then all would be well. Yes, I wanted to avenge these villains, and yes, at times I still do, although the very idea of seeking revenge goes against the grain of what I believe spiritually. But more than anything, I wanted the terrorists erased so that I would not have to live my life in fear of losing a loved one.

But now I am seeing that, as I brush aside my wrath-fueled delusions, it's not as simple as just wiping away the terrorists. Of course it could never be so simple, because war is a bloody, convoluted, protracted mess. Innocent people - innocent children - will die. And if we kill innocent civilians, then how are we can we rightfully distinguish ourselves from the terrorists?

Millions of Afghans have already been displaced as a result of America's declaration of war. Millions of impoverished Afghans, who have nothing to cling to anyway, except maybe a tattered shred of hope that one day their lives will not be so grim. That we have caused them to suffer even further makes me ashamed, as ashamed as I feel when I consider the hundreds of thousands Iraqi children who have starved to death due to misguided American sanctions.

Let's face it: In recent decades, in particular since World War II, America has been one big imperialist bully. Yes, there are still good things about our country, but capitalist avarice is blotting out whatever benevolence we still hold on to.

I realize that there are no easy solutions to this matter, and I am also aware that peaceful negotiation does not always work, especially with those blinded by religious zeal (and the Taliban really is irksomely zealous). So while I embrace the ideals of peace love and understanding, I am no giddy pollyanna. I am all too conscious of humanity's polarized nature, where often, darkness eclipses light.
Indeed, I recognize this duality in myself, and struggle with it daily.

I also know that there are many facets to this issue, which is why I do not seek solace in slogans or completely choose sides. I understand that we need to protect ourselves against violent encroachment, and tightening lax airline security, freezing terrorist assets and other non-violent measures are all solid steps toward this goal. And, of course, altering our approach to foreign affairs to embrace less self-serving policies would be the most significant step toward the goal of "eradicating" terrorism (which you can never do, because that would be tantamount to eradicating evil, and I refer you to the story of "Candide" if you think that can ever be done).

But I also understand that a war could ironically result in further terrorist retaliation. Most devastatingly, war will destroy the lives of poor people and children. Whether they are Afghan children or American children is beside the point; in the end, they are children, and I dare you to celebrate the suffering of any child.

Freedom to speak my mind, even in the midst of a flag-flying fury, is one of the reasons why I choose to live in America. But the pressure to be patriotically subservient to my government in a time of great global turmoil is the reason I refuse to fly the flag.

America, I feel, is a great country, and a greatly flawed country. To deny this this would be the most unpatriotic gesture I could make.