The wrong side of idealism

Stephen Decatur, one of our first national heroes, distinguished himself during the Barbary Wars and the War of 1812, became captain of the USS Constitution at the age of 25, and proposed a famous toast. The toast may be better known than the man: At a dinner in Washington, D.C., Decatur reportedly raised a glass and said, “Our country! In her intercourse with foreign nations may she always be in the right; but right or wrong, our country!”

That’s probably not exactly what he said, but to most of us his words have come down as “My country, right or wrong.” This is a pure expression of the sentiment of “nationalism,” symbolized most recently by a red cap with the slogan Make America Great Again (or MAGA). A new wave of nationalism is sweeping the country. Is it a good thing, or should we be alarmed?

A new wave of nationalism is sweeping the country. Is it a good thing, or should we be alarmed?

That question inspired an interesting debate on the National Review website earlier this year. Rich Lowry and Ramesh Ponnuru mounted a robust defense of nationalism while Jonah Goldberg and Ben Shapiro took a more nuanced view.

Lowry and Ponnuru began with their essay “For Love of Country.” It’s natural and healthy, they say, to regard highly and even prefer your own hometown, neighbors, culture, and community. It’s perfectly fine to feel a tug on your heart when The Stars and Stripes pass by in a parade, and your emotion may or may not be grounded in America’s uniqueness or founding principles—“a flyover or July Fourth fireworks display is not creedal.” Of course, when national pride becomes national aggression, alarm bells should ring, but the writers draw a distinction between authoritarian and democratic nationalism.

To Goldberg and Shapiro, that’s a distinction without a real difference. Democracies can be as “authoritarian” as any dictatorship, once the people get into their heads that greatness only means winning. That, they say, is what MAGA really means: not an exceptional form of government, or liberty for all, or constitutional hedges on big government—just winning. If that’s the case, what difference is there between nationalism and “blood and soil” tribalism? Rather than emotional attachment to the fatherland, Goldberg and Shapiro favor rational patriotism.

Both sides agree the United States is exceptional, due to its establishment on principles, or “ideals,” rather than culture or ethnicity. But ideals come with their own stumbling blocks. What is progressivism, after all, but an attempt to stretch the noble principle of “all men created equal” over every form of equality, whether social, racial, sexual, or economic? Classical conservatism is the political philosophy I gravitate toward, but it’s becoming less attractive to a populace geared toward instant gratification and emotional appeals. Try explaining to a liberal that it’s better to balance the budget than feed the poor (and yes, I know it’s not necessarily an either/or, but just try explaining it).

Libertarianism, touted as the philosophy of broadest possible freedom, thinks of itself as the only compromise between fiscal conservatives and social progressives. But all that does is peel off the social conservatives and fiscal progressives, leaving a middle ground that can never quite determine where my liberty becomes your liability.

Equality, personal responsibility, and liberty are time-tested American values. Nationalism is a lowest-common-denominator value, and the least idealistic—but potentially the most dangerous. Chants of “USA! USA!” can drown out rational debate and lead to reckless decisions. Stephen Decatur, Mr. Our-Country-Right-or-Wrong himself, allowed idealistic notions of honor to spur him into a duel with another naval officer that cut his life tragically short.

While debating ideals, the conservative National Review writers make little or no reference to our Judeo-Christian heritage. That seems odd, especially when, at The Atlantic, progressive writer Peter Beinart is starting to miss that same heritage (to his surprise, apparently). He notes that, as our religious bedrock washes out, “secularization isn’t easing political conflict. It’s making American politics even more convulsive and zero-sum.”

Could it be that man doesn’t live by idealism alone? That even noble principles turn savage without the mediation of God’s Word?