One of my favourite country songs of recent years is “Small Town Southern Man” by Alan Jackson, a song that forms part of that “Chesterton Country” that I’ve celebrated here on the Ink Desk. The only line in the lyrics of this otherwise entirely healthy song that leaves me feeling a little ambivalent is that referring to bowing his head to Jesus and standing for Uncle Sam. I have no ambivalence to bowing the head to Jesus, of course, but I can’t help feeling a little uneasy about the standing for Uncle Sam. No, as one who became an American citizen about two years ago, I’m not being unpatriotic. Please hear me out.
I am happy, indeed honoured, to stand for my country. I am, however, reminded of the words of Chesterton who said that to say my country right or wrong is like saying my mother drunk or sober. If Uncle Sam is really a benevolent “uncle”, all well and good. But who exactly is the Uncle Sam for whom we’re being asked to stand? If he’s the personification of small town America, standing on its own two feet, Christian, and raising a family in the traditional way, I’m all for Uncle Sam. But is Uncle Sam a Christian? Is he a small town American man? Is he a family man?
Or is Uncle Sam synonymous with the Federal Government? Is his favourite nephew a certain Mr. Obama? Is Uncle Sam more concerned with marching through Georgia, Afghanistan, Iraq and Iran than supporting his kinsfolk in the small towns of America?
As an English-American, I see ominous parallels between Uncle Sam and John Bull, the latter of whom is a personification of the might of the British Empire. Years ago, I ceased being a Great Britisher who idolized the Empire and became a Little Englander who simply loved the smallness and beauty of my country. I summed up the difference between a Great Britisher and a Little Englander in a short poem entitled “Sunset”:
When Britain had an Empire
The sun would never set,
But the sun set over England
And Englishmen forget
That greater than the Empire
Are the rolling Yorkshire moors,
And more glorious the Dales
Than all the Empire’s wars.
If Uncle Sam represents all that is truly good and small and noble in America, I will stand for Uncle Sam as willingly as the small town southern man in Alan Jackson’s song. If, however, Uncle Sam is a bullying imperialist who believes in big government and in the crushing of religious freedom and destroying the very fabric of the traditional family, Uncle Sam can go to Hell!
Will the real Uncle Sam please stand up so that we can know whether we are to stand with him or against him?
“Patriotism” is okay; “nationalism” is not, and the question implied is–what’s the difference between the two? I suppose everybody answers that for themselves. I like C.S. Lewis’ answer during Britain’s defense against German nationalism (which Germans called patriotism).
What I understood from Lewis was: Patriotism is simple, heartfelt, maybe even inarticulable–not doctrine or ideology–not hunger after glory in the name of “country.” He said it was love of one’s “homeland,” and that I can understand. He said that when he thought of England, he thought of Victoria Station–I understand that.
For me, “Uncle Sam” is a caricature on antique WWII posters. My “country” is an abstraction suffocated and drowned in competing political ideologies. But my “homeland” is Georgia. Pine trees that sing, wild lilies and violets, red clay that freezes on cold mornings in the wintertime, heat in summer that’s strong enough to humble the soul, people who pass the time in check-out lines talking about the weather or the price of tomatoes to perfect strangers, and who say excuse me, please, thank you, yes ma’am and no ma’am. Things you can’t really speak of with much sense.
I guess I don’t relate much to Uncle Sam or even to my country, but my homeland is unspeakably dear to me.
Please be assured, that the real Uncle Sam is all that is good about the U.S.A. I recall seeing WWII posters in history books, where he is depicted, ah, maybe ‘too tough’ — but there should be no equating Uncle Sam with the current liberals — they are of no relation to him. (But I am sure, he’d welcome anyone willing and able, new American or old.)
Cheryl Pederson
Fargo ND
I’m OK with My Country Right or Wrong AND with My Mother Drunk or Sober. That doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t work to reform either. But I would certainly continue to defend them before their enemies and support them and work for their good. Loyalty is virtue too, and it imparts lovableness to it’s object, enabling us to love the unloveable. However loyalty is different from enabling or being a doormat. Being a big Jackson fan, I’m sure he never had a hair splitting thought like this going through his cowboy hat, but I’m sure he’d agree with it.