Pick up your cross!
What's Wrong With Conservatives? Seriously. What's Wrong With Them?
“I do not believe — and I know this is a horrible thing to say — but I do not believe that the president loves America. He doesn’t love you. And he doesn’t love me. He wasn’t brought up the way you were brought up and I was brought up through love of this country.”
– Rudy Giuliani, at a private dinner at the 21 Club on Wednesday night, according to Politico.
– Rudy Giuliani, at a private dinner at the 21 Club on Wednesday night, according to Politico.
How much do you love America, politicians?
Giuliani doubled down on “Fox and Friends” on Thursday, saying that he thought the president’s ratio of talking about American exceptionalism to criticizing the country was a little off. “I do hear him criticize America much more often than other American presidents,” he said. “And when it’s not in the context of an overwhelming number of statements about the exceptionalism of America, it sounds like he’s more of a critic than he is a supporter. You can be a patriotic American and be a critic, but then you’re not expressing that kind of love we’re used to from a president.”
With that in mind, before I get into this, here is what I hope are an overwhelming number of statements about the exceptionalism of America:
I love America! America is terrific! If America asked for my kidney, I would give it that kidney without hesitation. If America wanted to come sit on my couch and talk for a long time about its struggles at work and how ambivalent it felt about the guy it was currently seeing, I would bring America hot tea and listen, murmuring assent at appropriate intervals. I love America more than I love anything on Earth except for “Star Wars,” the collected writings of P.G. Wodehouse, and eating quiche on public transit in defiance of posted signs and placards. In fact, I love America more than that last thing. I love America more than the Oxford or serial comma.
America is the greatest country in the world. America, [BLEEP] yeah! It is the country that gave us American English and American cheese and a rap musical about Alexander Hamilton that is happening right now. I love it, to borrow a phrase from Ogden Nash, “more than a catbird hates a cat or a criminal hates a clue.” I am proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free, and I won’t forget the men who died, who gave that right to me, and I’ll proudly stand up *BA DUM* next to you to defend her still today, ’cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land. God bless the USA.
America is exceptional. Not exceptional in the sense that other people’s children are exceptional. Exceptional in the sense that your OWN children are exceptional. I love you, America. I love you so much that my whole body is a flag pin. More than words! More than life! More than meat loves salt!
(Is that enough? Can I speak freely now?)
One thing I do not love about America is the insistence that we must all constantly tell America how much we love it, as though America were frighteningly insecure and would go bolting from the room in tears as soon as someone said, “Hey, you know, you were not always perfect, but it’s great that you were founded on such strong ideals that made you capable of perfecting yourself over time!” America is not Noel Coward, who once said, “I can take any amount of criticism, so long as it is unqualified praise.” It is robust enough now that its feelings won’t be hurt. At least I hope it is. For crying out loud, it is nearly 250 years old.
If criticizing America at any point to any degree means you don’t love it, then the Founders hated the place. I could try to point out that the president clearly loves America — as he frequently points out, his story could only have happened here — but I object to this whole Love-of-America-measuring contest as a grounds for — well, anything. If I learned one thing from King Lear it is that asking people to tell you in florid terms how much they love something is a terrible way of deciding who is qualified to rule. It is pretty much the opposite of that. It tends to result in blindings, stabbings and people running around nude shouting, “POOR TOM’S A-COLD.”
Criticizing something does not mean you don’t love it. It can, sure — read any YouTube comments section. Unmitigated bile is pointless. But uncritical affection is equally worthless. G.K. Chesterton said, ” ‘My country, right or wrong,’ is a thing that no patriot would think of saying except in a desperate case. It is like saying, ‘My mother, drunk or sober.’ ” The people who really love me are decent enough to tell me when I’m screwing up, because they think I’m capable of better.
Must we really go down this path? What ratio of praise would be satisfactory? How many times does the president have to say he loves America? Six times in every speech? Seven? I suspect, as does Jonathan Capehart, that no number would quite satisfy these critics. The point, you see, is that he is Not Like Us and He Don’t Love You, America, Like I Love You. Because, You Understand, He Wasn’t Raised Like We Were *emits inaudible whistle.*
Look, as a general rule, when you are a public figure and you hear yourself saying, “I know this is a horrible thing to say,” you should clap your hands over your mouth and flee the room, leaving the audience to wonder for the rest of the lives what would have come out of your mouth next.
But alas, this never happens.
In conclusion, America is the greatest country in the world, hooray, hooray.
(How about that? Is that enough?)
Alexandra Petri writes the ComPost blog, offering a lighter take on the news and opinions of the day.
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