Love of America? Which one?

Speaker Mike Johnson and other Republicans described the “No Kings” protest marches as “Hate America rallies” made up of the radical left wing of the Democratic Party – “antifa people” as he called them.

Nearly 7 million people gathered around the country in peaceful demonstrations over what the Trump administration and Republicans are doing to the country. In more than 2700 protests across all 50 states, from rural America to cities, millions of Americans declared forcefully their opposition to the authoritarianism of Trump and his kin.

What’s striking about Speaker Johnson’s comments is his attempt to question the patriotism of those who marched. The people who agree with Republicans love America, he seems to believe. The rest of us hate the country.

When I hear these white men talk of their love of country, I hear what James Baldwin heard, the “songs of the plains, the memory of a virgin continent, mysteriously despoiled, [where] all dreams were to become possible…”. In other words, I hear a storybook version of America that has little to no relation to the America close to the ground. I hear lies.

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In some ways, the language of “love of country” works like a dog whistle. It really means love of the country as they imagine it. Love of the people that matter to them. And no matter how loudly we shout our love of America, no matter what we do to demonstrate that love or to claim our patriotism, it will not be enough. Because in the America as they imagine it, the white people who marched are traitors and all the others play minor bit parts in the life of their country.

Meanwhile, claims of so-called love of country remain abstract declarations while their public policies devastate ordinary people and undermine the basic principles of American democracy. One can infer from how these people govern that they do not give a damn about America: their concern rests with only a particular segment of the country, white and rich.

For me, love is experienced close to the ground—in the life lived in a particular place and time, and in the memories that take up residence in the heart. I suppose love of country is a shorthand for this – the experiences that allow us to call this place home. In other words, love of country begins and ends with the very people who make the country what it is and is expressed in our responsibility to one another. Not in whether you are a Republican or a Democrat.

I can’t help but think of all those moments when Black leaders thought that if they rallied Black folk to the flag in times of war that we would prove our patriotism. Only for people to experience humiliation in segregated units or to return to a Jim Crow America—to be assaulted even in uniform.

To my mind, it is a waste of time debating who loves or hates America or trying to possess the banner of American patriotism as one struggles. No matter what we do, these people will never see us as full patriots. Their version of America stands in the way.

And, honestly, I do not love the America that Speaker Johnson, Stephen Miller, and Donald Trump profess to love. Why should I? Theirs is a vision of the country soaked in grievance and hatred.

Our love should be expressed in the ongoing effort, close to the ground, to build a country that affirms the dignity and standing of everyday, ordinary people—to make it possible for people to not only dream dreams but to make their dreams a reality. Seven million people gathered yesterday under a banner that begins and ends with the people and with a vision of the nation that is more just and loving.

I give back to you, Speaker Johnson, your own words: who really is full of hate here?

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