Here’s a sentence you may never have expected to see in this space: Donald Trump has done more than any other president to instill a visceral sense of patriotism in me.
It’s taken me a while to figure this out, so let me explain.
A week ago, I sat in front of a blank computer screen, fully intending to compose a pre-election piece. Bits and pieces of the past four years came back to me: the lies, the hate, the overt racism, the gratuitous cruelty, the abject meanness of this president. Some of it seemed unreal. Did he really put children in cages? Did he really coddle white supremacists? Did he really call the news media the “enemy of the people?” Of course he did. And so much more.
I wanted to write about what a second Trump term might look like, should the pollsters and prognosticators blow it again. An hour later, my screen was still blank, my brain a jumble of horrifying thoughts.
I was, in the words of the late military strategist Herman Kahn, “thinking about the unthinkable.” As Kahn applied that phrase to nuclear war, he defined “unthinkable” as a mind-numbing sense of raw fear and terror that transcends language. That’s what I felt, there at my desk, days before the election. I couldn’t formulate a single sentence. Not only did I turn the computer off, I went cold turkey on what had become a steady diet of political podcasts, news and polling sites.
Anxiety does not come naturally to me, and the last place I expected to encounter it was in the political arena. In another lifetime, I was a newspaper reporter. I covered elections. Somebody won, somebody lost; I’d write the story and life went on. Then I became an advocate, but even with a horse in the race – one that lost more times than I can count – I never missed a minute of sleep. Life still went on. And so did the country.
This time was different. You know that feeling you get when your kids, or another loved one, are MIA way after they said they would be home? And you can’t reach them by phone? You begin to imagine the worst, and then try to push those thoughts away because . . . well, because they are just too terrifying – too unthinkable – to contemplate. That’s what I, and I suspect many of us – were feeling during the days leading to this election. This vote went way beyond the political. It was deeply personal.
Now trace those feelings to their roots. That’s where you will find patriotism. Sitting before that blank screen and thinking the unthinkable was my aha moment. I learned how much I love this country only by arriving at the precipice of losing it.
I came of age during the Vietnam War. I wrote obituaries for my hometown newspaper of boys I sat next to in high school, kids who, like me, had never heard of Vietnam and didn’t have the slightest idea what it was all about. Patriotism in those tumultuous times was expressed in a bumper sticker that read, “America: Love it or Leave it.” It was a simple, jingoistic false dichotomy that deliberately omitted the third-party candidacy of “Change it.”
Needless to say, those experiences did not turn me into a flag-waving, America-right-or-wrong kind of guy. There are many aspects of this country to greatly admire: our exuberance for democracy, our international leadership in human rights, the freedoms of speech, religion, assembly and the press. There are also a host of deep impediments blocking the pursuit of happiness for far too many Americans: people of color, those living in poverty, women, LGBTQ folks.
Yet, the bottom line has always been that the institutions of our democracy – the very architecture of our government – are equipped to solve those problems. The political cliché, “there is nothing wrong with America that cannot be cured by what is right with America,” contains more than just a kernel of truth.
At least it used to. The revelation that hit me, as I sat staring at the blank screen, was that I had been taking “all that is right with America” for granted. Many previous presidents made policy decisions I vehemently disagreed with. But they all, with the notable Nixon/Watergate exception, respected and upheld the norms, rules, laws and institutions that provide our very structure of governance.
During these past four years, however, we’ve had a president who was guided by none of the above, a deeply troubled man whose only operating principle was to feed his voracious appetite of self-interest, regardless of the consequences. The further he got into his term, the more brazen and reckless he became. Weeks before the election, Trump was insisting that the Justice Department indict Barack Obama and Joe Biden on some phony, unspecified charge. On election night, with tens of millions of ballots still to be tabulated, the president of the United States declared a totally fictitious victory and demanded that the counting cease.
Just thinking about the extrapolation of this behavior over an additional four years, was enough to jar me out of my complacency. Although far from fragile, our democracy is by no means bullet proof. With a second Trump term, it could well have been unrecognizable by 2024. Thankfully, in this year of cascading calamities, we finally caught a break: the election of Joe Biden and Kamala Harris.
The Trump presidency changed me. It forced me to see America in a new light. Our democratic way of life should never be taken for granted. One man came perilously close to replacing it with his own brand of authoritarian selfishness. The contemplation of that loss connected deeply with a love for this country that I never knew I had.
My new bumper sticker? AMERICA: LOVE IT SO YOU DON’T LOSE IT!