Patriotism Isn't Blind Loyalty
Patriotism Isn't Blind Loyalty
by Damion Alexaneder
A recent poll found that only 53 percent of Americans say they are “extremely” or “very” proud to be Americans, the lowest level Gallup has recorded in more than two decades. Another survey found that Americans are less proud of our democracy, our history, and even our military than they were just a few years ago.
Those numbers don’t make me angry.
They make me curious.
Why?
Why are so many people who still love this country struggling to celebrate it?
For me, patriotism began long before I understood politics.
I was the kid with endless school spirit. During basketball games, I would walk onto the floor during timeouts and start leading cheers. No one asked me to do it. No one gave me permission. No one stopped me, either. The crowd joined in, and for a few minutes I felt like I was helping create something bigger than myself.
Looking back, I learned two lessons from those moments. The first was that when you take initiative, people often follow.
The second was even more important. Just because you can do something doesn’t always mean you should. Rules aren’t sacred simply because they exist, but neither should they be ignored simply because you can get away with it. Real leadership requires judgment, humility, and knowing the difference. That lesson has stayed with me my entire life.
At school, I had the privilege of raising and lowering the American flag. At the end of each day, I carefully folded it into its triangle, corner by corner, before returning it to its place. We stood each morning and recited the Pledge of Allegiance. Those weren’t empty rituals.
They taught me that I belonged to something extraordinary.
Like many Americans, I grew up believing the United States represented one of history’s greatest experiments in freedom. My grandparents’ generation lived through World War II. I grew up believing America stood for democracy, liberty, and the idea that people should be free to choose their own future. I still believe that.
Which is why it hurts when patriotism becomes confused with nationalism.
Journalist Sydney J. Harris wrote, “The difference between patriotism and nationalism is that the patriot is proud of his country for what it does, and the nationalist is proud of his country no matter what it does.”
That distinction matters.
Patriotism is love. Nationalism is loyalty.
Love celebrates what is good while having the courage to confront what is wrong.
Loyalty asks us never to question.
The American experiment was never built on unquestioning loyalty. It was built on debate, disagreement, compromise, and accountability.
Our founders disagreed with one another constantly, but they shared one extraordinary belief: no one should ever hold too much power. They divided authority among three branches of government because they understood that unchecked power eventually becomes dangerous. They expected presidents to be challenged by Congress. They expected Congress to be checked by the courts. They expected citizens to criticize their government when it failed to live up to the Constitution.
That isn’t un-American. It is one of the most American things we can do.
Freedom isn’t simply the right to wave a flag. It is the freedom to ask difficult questions, to disagree without fear, to challenge those in power, and to insist that facts matter.
A free press isn’t an inconvenience.
Independent courts aren’t obstacles.
Evidence matters.
Truth matters.
Without those things, freedom slowly becomes performance instead of principle.
I also believe freedom means opportunity.
Our Constitution was never written for one religion, one race, or one political party. It was an invitation to build a nation where people with different beliefs could live together under the same laws. We have not always lived up to that promise. History makes that painfully clear.
Yet our history also shows a nation that has continually expanded freedom to more people. That progress has never been automatic. It has always required ordinary Americans willing to challenge the status quo. That is why I believe expanding opportunity strengthens America. Not because standards should be lowered.
Because talent exists everywhere while opportunity does not.
I’ve served on numerous nonprofit boards. Even organizations with the best intentions often look remarkably similar. Leadership tends to come from the same neighborhoods, the same professional circles, and the same social networks. That’s human nature, but it also means many qualified people never receive the same opportunity.
Creating pathways for people who have historically been overlooked isn’t about giving someone an unfair advantage. It’s about making sure every child can look at a boardroom, a courtroom, a classroom, or Congress and honestly believe, “Someone like me belongs there.”
That isn’t a threat to freedom. It’s one of freedom’s greatest achievements.
America is also something we sometimes forget.
We are fifty states.
Fifty different cultures.
Fifty different economies.
Fifty different political philosophies.
Our union has always depended upon the understanding that while we may disagree, we still belong to one another. Federal leadership should serve every American equally, regardless of how their state votes. When floods, fires, hurricanes, or tornadoes strike, Americans help Americans. That’s part of the promise of the union. When people begin to feel that government serves only some Americans while punishing others, trust begins to disappear.
And without trust, patriotism begins to fade.
Some people look at today’s polls and conclude that Americans simply love their country less. I don’t believe that’s true. I think many Americans love this country so deeply that they’re heartbroken when they believe it is drifting away from the ideals they were taught to cherish.
I still get emotional when I see the American flag.
I still believe the Constitution is one of humanity’s greatest achievements.
I still believe the United States remains one of the greatest experiments in self-government the world has ever attempted.
But loving America has never meant pretending we’re perfect.
It means believing we can become better.
Carl Schurz offered what may be the finest definition of patriotism ever spoken:
“My country, right or wrong; if right, to be kept right; and if wrong, to be set right.”
That is the patriotism I believe in.
Not blind loyalty.
Not unquestioning nationalism.
A love of country strong enough to celebrate its greatness, honest enough to confront its failures, and hopeful enough to believe that each generation has a responsibility to leave America stronger, freer, and more faithful to its founding ideals than the generation before.
I’m still that kid who walked onto the basketball court because he believed enthusiasm could bring people together.
I’m still that kid who carefully folded the American flag at the end of the school day.
The difference is that I’ve learned patriotism isn’t about cheering the loudest.
It’s about making sure the ideals we’re cheering for remain worthy of the applause.
That’s the America I still believe in.
And that’s the America I’ll never stop cheering for.