a pledge on the fourth

Music: Summerbirds in the Cellar: With the Hands of the Hunter (2006)

For just about every school day of my young life, I recited the Pledge of Allegiance to the flag of the United States. As an adult, I say the pledge every time I go to a lodge meeting. As a young person, I was not really caused to reflect on what I was saying when I made the pledge; reciting it was something like reciting the alphabet. In high school, I can remember a controversy erupting over the "one nation, under God" phrase---but honestly, even in my most anti-religious, rebellious years of the Great Teen Age, saying that phrase hasn't really bothered me (and make no mistake, I'm an agnostic). As an adult, I do think more deeply about the pledge every time I recite it. I probably recite it more than everyone I currently know or are close with---the exception, of course, being my fellow Masons.

Because of missed writing deadlines, I took the opportunity to write today and swore off social celebrations. I wrote a little, I graded a couple of seminar papers, and read the newspaper. I cleaned the kitchen as I listened to the radio (had a grand dinner with friends on Friday and lots of dirty pots to prove it). But since today is a national holiday, I did want to spend some of it to reflect on its meaning. (Listening to NPR this afternoon, however, I learned the actual date of the United States' assertion of independence was July 2nd; the 4th is when the documents were mailed to the states. In a sense, then, today is something of a postal holiday---the agency of the letter, indeed).

As an exercise, then, I want to meditate on the pledge I routinely make to my country. Here are my thoughts.

I pledge allegiance . . .

With my hand over my heart, to say that I "pledge" means that I am making a solemn promise. To say that I "pledge allegiance" means that I promise to be loyal to something superior to myself. It is a promise of prostration, a reverence to something that is not me, something outside of myself, and something that is much greater. When one takes a vow---for example, to another person in civil union---one is making a similar promise. To pledge allegiance is, in some sense, to offer surrender. A pledge of allegiance, however, is not blind adherence, nor is it a mindless surrender. Rather, it is a voluntary act of surrender to something over or for which I am not a master. In this respect, a pledge is something of a sacrifice. It implies a contract: I promise loyalty in exchange for something. That something is, for me, the reason I make the pledge. And I think it's a worthy something; I think it's a something that is worthwhile, of value. That's where the next phrases come in.

. . . to the Flag of the United States of America and to the Republic for which it stands . . . .

This phrase has always struck me as somewhat redundant, because a flag is always symbolic of something else. So, to say that I pledge allegiance to the flag is not to be taken literally, and I've always thought folks who took the literalist route to the pledge really miss the point of pledging.

Never make a promise to a thing, a machine, an inanimate object. One makes a promise to another person or a people. Sometimes this comes in the form of an ideal, but even then, ideals are about people, the other.

Again: when one makes a promise, it is always to other people, not to some inanimate object.

Making a promise to an ideal is simply an indirect way of agreeing to treat other people a certain way. Nevertheless, I suspect wanting to ward off literalism is one reason why "and to the Republic for which it stands" was added. I have no problem, for example, with flag burning as a symbolic critique, because I do see this gesture as a form of speech protected by the republic "for which it stands." My allegiance to "the flag" is actually an allegiance to the republic, that is, to my system of government and the people who have agreed, however tacitly, to abide by its tacit promises.

To say that I pledge allegiance to the republic represented by my country's flag is to say that I promise to be loyal to an ideal regarding how to treat other people, however unrealized. That ideal is specified, of course, by the next phrases:

one Nation under God, . . .

Here is the phrase that seems to offend so many, and that offense has less to do with the actual phrase in the pledge than with how some people have used it to this or that political end (and by "political," I mean to be inclusive of "religious").

On the second page of the "metro" section of the local paper today, a local fundamentalist church took out a full-page advertisement featuring four of the "founding fathers": George Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson (yes, that Thomas Jefferson), and Benjamin Franklin. Below each fatherly visage was a quote about the centrality of God, and in big fat letters in the middle of the page the phrase, "In God we trust" appeared. This church ad represents one of the ways I think this phrase, "one Nation under God," is often misrepresented.

Although the debate over the founding fathers' religious beliefs rages on, the general consensus of historians is that they were deists, or at least strongly influenced by the deism that permeated the Enlightenment. Jefferson's writings are most starkly deist, Franklin confessed he was one, and there are strong suggestions that Washington and Adams leaned in that direction. Deism is a complicated belief system and there's just no way to know for sure what these folks thought or believed in their "heart of hearts." Regardless, "God" is a pretty big word and inclusive of all kinds of different beliefs. Wrestling the "founding fathers" into a decidedly un-deist faith is dubious at best. I don't care how you slice it, the declaration of independence is inclusive of freedom from religious authority. The separation of church and state doctrine floated by Jefferson makes this pretty damn clear.

So, why the "one Nation under God" phrase? Well, this phrase was added relatively recently, in 1954. There's no question that it became part of the pledge because of religious folks (the Knights of Columbus figure in this history, interestingly).

But, I actually do not think it is out of step even with our founding Mac Daddies. They held fast to a supreme being ("the grand architect of the universe," as the Masons like to say), they just didn't believe s/he/it (joke intended) meddled in human affairs. "God" was more or less a recognition of fallibility, an admission of human imperfection. We also have to figure in the natural law doctrine: some rights were conferred, beyond debate, and we might as well say some superduper being made it so (since it puts natural rights beyond the purview of human dictate). Jefferson was keen to locate natural rights in a supreme being---and however ironically, to put the question above the dictates of organized religion.

For me, what "one nation, under God" means, considered with Jefferson, Adams, Washington, and Franklin, is that the ideals we hold dear are beyond any one person's ability to determine who does and does not get "liberty" and "justice." In a big way, this idea is the opposite of what many figures in organized religion would make of it. It is fundamentally an affirmation of humility and submission and an acknowledgement of human ignorance. Perhaps I am stretching the meaning beyond it's decidedly religious intent in 1954, but to say the state is "under God" is to say the state is not infallible, but subject itself to a higher calling. That calling does not need to be supernatural. That calling can be the better part of our natures, the part that recognizes equality for all persons---the part of ourselves that recognizes no one individual has the answers or solutions. "One nation, under God" means, for me, that no one group has the authority to say, for example, that queer people cannot enjoy the rights, lights, and benefits of marriage. Some folks would say that I am "perverting" the meaning, but then again: who knows the mind and intentions of that which is beyond human law---the will of God? To say that we are a nation under God, in my view, is a deist position. It is an admission of fallibility, of humility. Of ignorance.

. . . indivisible, . . .

This word is an assertion of sovereign unity. It is an ideal constantly tested and striven for, but not possible. Were it possible, there would be no need to assert indivisibility. But I do think we should be undivided on our dedication to the last phrase:

With Liberty and Justice for all.

No two words are more fraught than "liberty" and "justice" (ok, I overstate; "God" is more fraught) . . . and figuring out what these are and what these mean should rightly be a never-ending pursuit. When I say these words, I think of the historical struggles, over the past three centuries, to realize their meaning. It's hard not to promise an undying loyalty to their realization.

There are many things I dislike about my government's laws. There are many things I despise about certain people who comprise my nation's citizenry. But pledging allegiance to these words---to my republic---is not a blind commitment. I am a patriot because I can write these words and express my views without fear of death. I am a patriot---and Lee Greenwood's sappiness aside---when I think of my friends, when I think of the struggles of the past century to realize what liberty and justice for all means, I can say I'm proud to be an American. I am not a blind American. I will call out fascism and evil when I see it. But I promise submission and loyalty to the ideal that holds fast to my right and ability to be critical of my country--- the laws that allow me to assemble and disagree, the laws that allow me to decry injustice, the laws that make it possible for social and political change. There should be no shame in pledging allegiance to my country, because doing so is a tacit allowance to right the wrongs of my country's past. There is so much that is shameful in the history of the United States. But then again, we need to remind ourselves on holidays like today that there is room for hope. That room is created by the agreement that we can humble ourselves to each other, that no one is above the law---that no one is above God, whatever this or it is, most especially.

I recognize a post such as this evokes uncomfortable feelings for many of my friends. It tempts the charge of sentimentality, especially in light of innumerable injustices that parade across our screens on a daily basis. But even so, I pledge allegiance to my republic because there is one thing it stands for, often against its interests: continual and ceaseless change.