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08-17-2012, 01:01 PM
Teaching Patriotism: Love and Critical Freedom

Martha C. Nussbaum




Hail the flag of America on land or on sea,

Hail the Revolutionary war which made us free.

The British proceeded into the hills of Danbury,

But soon their army was as small as a cranberry.

Remember the brave soldiers who toiled and fought;

Bravery is a lesson to be taught.

—Martha Louise Craven1

I. THE JANUS-FACED NATURE OF PATRIOTISM

In 1892, a World’s Fair, called the “Columbian Exposition,”2 was

scheduled to take place in Chicago. Clearly it was gearing up to be a

celebration of unfettered greed and egoism. Industry and innovation

† Ernst Freund Distinguished Service Professor of Law and Ethics, University of

Chicago.

For a symposium on Understanding Education in the United States, University of Chicago

Law School, June 17–18, 2011. This paper recasts a chapter in my book Political Emotions

(under contract to Harvard University Press), and so I am indebted to all those who have

commented on that manuscript, who are too numerous to list here. I am grateful to Jonathan

Masur for helpful comments. This paper is an abbreviated version of Teaching Patriotism:

Love and Critical Freedom (University of Chicago Public Law and Legal Theory Working

Paper No 357, July 2011), online at http://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm

?abstract_id=1898313 (visited Oct 28, 2011).

1 This poem was “written” by me at age six and a half, according to its label and date; it

was typed up by my mother (I recognize her paper and font), and I found it in her family

album. I am not sure what my contribution to its composition really was, or whether it had

anything to do with a school assignment. But it was clearly a collaborative exercise, and one

from which my mother thought that I would gain something. The general zeal for the

Revolution was certainly my own. At that time I was obsessed with a children’s book called

Ride for Freedom, about a girl named Sybil Ludington (1761–1839), who, on April 26, 1777,

rode out to warn colonial forces of the approach of British troops—riding forty miles over hilly

terrain, a longer distance than Paul Revere, and at the age of only sixteen. See Judy Hominick

and Jeanne Spreier, Ride for Freedom: The Story of Sybil Ludington (Silver Moon 2001). I

remember requiring my parents to act out the story in our basement, using various objects

stored down there as horses. (My colleagues will recognize that the tendency to inveigle others

into dramatic performance exists innately and by nature, and cannot be either altered or

denied.) The “Danbury–cranberry” rhyme is also likely to have been my own, since I loved

visiting my grandparents in Danbury (the town Sybil was really trying to save).

2 Because it celebrated the four-hundredth anniversary of Columbus’s discovery of the

New World. Erik Larson, The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair

that Changed America 4 (Crown 2003).

216 The University of Chicago Law Review [79:215

were to be its central foci, as America planned to welcome the world

with displays of technological prowess and material enrichment.

Gross inequalities of opportunity in the nation and in the city were

to be masked by the glowing exterior of the pure white Beaux-Arts

style buildings, right next door to the University of Chicago, that

came to be called “the White City.”3 The architectural choices of the

exhibition’s designers, Daniel Burnham and Daniel Chester French,

expressed the idea that America rivals Europe in grandeur and

nobility. Everything funny, chaotic, and noisy was relegated to the

Midway, outside the precincts of the exhibition: the first Ferris

Wheel, Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show, children, racial and ethnic

differences, bright colors, poor people. Instead of real human bodies,

disturbing in their heterogeneity and their frailty, the exhibit put

forward the gilded “Statue of the Republic,” a sixty-five-foot-tall

gilded statue of a woman holding a scepter and orb, a smaller replica

of which, only twenty-four feet high, created in 1918 to

commemorate the Exposition, now stands at Hayes Drive and

Cornell.4 The Chicago Tribune wrote, “It impresses by its grand

presence, its serene and noble face, and its perfect harmony with its

magnificent surroundings, by its wonderful fitness.”5

Advocates for the poor, increasingly upset by the plan, got

together to think how the celebration might incorporate ideas of

equal opportunity and sacrifice. A group of Christian socialists

finally went to President Benjamin Harrison with an idea: at the

Exposition the President would introduce a new public ritual of

patriotism, a pledge of allegiance to the flag that would place the

accent squarely on the nation’s core moral values, include all

Americans as equals, and rededicate the nation to something more

than individual greed. The words that were concocted to express this

sentiment were: “I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States

of America, and to the republic for which it stands: one nation,

indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.”6 At the same time,

Youth’s Companion, a magazine run by two leading advocates for a

Pledge of Allegiance, began an aggressive campaign to promote the

use of the Pledge, along with the flag salute, in the nation’s schools.

3 All of this is well portrayed in Erik Larson’s novel, The Devil in the White City (cited

in note 2).

4 City of Chicago, Explore Chicago: Statue of the Republic (in Jackson Park), online at

http://www.explorechicago.org/city/en/things_see_do/attractions/park_district/statue_of_the_re

public.html (visited Oct 28, 2011).

5 Is a Model of Art, Chi Daily Trib 36 (Jan 29, 1893).

6 For an exhaustive documentation of the history of the Pledge, see generally Richard J.

Ellis, To the Flag: The Unlikely History of the Pledge of Allegiance (Kansas 2005). The words

“under God” were added to the Pledge in 1954, during the Cold War. Id at 136–37.

2012] Teaching Patriotism 217


As so often happens with patriotic sentiment, however, the

Pledge soon proved a formula of both inclusion and exclusion.

Francis Bellamy, the Pledge’s author, was himself both a socialist

and a xenophobe, who feared that our national values were being

undermined by the flood of new immigrants from southern Europe.

By the 1940s, required by law as a daily recitation in schools in

many states, the Pledge became a litmus test for the “good

American,” and those who flunked the test faced both exclusion

and violence. Jehovah’s Witnesses, who refused to recite the Pledge

for religious reasons, seeing it as a form of idolatry, soon found

their children expelled from school for noncompliance. Then, in a

wonderful catch-22, the parents were fined or jailed for

“contributing to the delinquency of a minor” because their children

were not in school!7 The idea grew in the public mind that

Jehovah’s Witnesses were a danger: a “fifth column” subverting

Americans’ values in the lead-up to the war against Germany and

Japan. Accused of German sympathies (despite the fact that

Jehovah’s Witnesses were being persecuted under the Third Reich

for similar reasons and had to wear a purple triangle in the camps),

Witnesses faced widespread public violence, including numerous

lynchings—particularly after the US Supreme Court had upheld the

compulsory flag salute as a legitimate expression of devotion to the

national security.8

Patriotism is Janus-faced. It faces outward, calling the self, at

times, to duties toward others, to the need to sacrifice for a common

good. And yet, just as clearly, it also faces inward, inviting those who

consider themselves “good” or “true” Americans to distinguish

themselves from outsiders and subversives, and then excluding those

outsiders. Just as dangerous, it serves to define the nation against its

foreign rivals and foes, whipping up warlike sentiments against them.

(It was for precisely this reason that Jean-Jacques Rousseau thought

that a good nation needed a patriotic “civil religion” in place of the

dogmas of Christianity, which he found too meek and pacifistic.)9

The story of the Pledge, to which I shall return, shows us that

quite a few different things can go wrong when a nation sets out to

inspire strong emotions with itself as the object, all of which are

pertinent to the project of teaching patriotism in the schools. The

Burnham plan for the Exposition shows the danger of misplaced and

7 Id at 93.

8 Minersville School District v Gobitis, 310 US 586, 595–600 (1940), revd West Virginia

State Board of Education v Barnette, 319 US 624 (1942). See also Part III.

9 See Jean-Jacques Rousseau, On the Social Contract 96–103 (Hackett 1987) (Donald A.

Cress, ed and trans).

218 The University of Chicago Law Review [79:215

exclusionary values: we see a nation defining itself in terms of elite

achievements and aspirations that exclude common people and their

urgent needs. The aftermath of the Pledge shows us the danger of

burdening minority conscience by enforced homogeneity. Finally,

both the Burnham plan and the ritual of the Pledge show us the

danger that patriotism will short-circuit the critical faculties and

undercut social rationality.

With such problems in mind, many rational people look

skeptically on appeals to patriotic sentiment. They favor

deemphasizing it in education and focusing on developing citizens

who can think for themselves and deliberate about the nation’s

future on the basis of rational principles. In favoring critical reason,

they are surely not wrong. Ever since the time of Socrates—in other

words as long as democracy has existed in the West—it has had too

little careful reasoning and too much hasty enthusiasm. In ignoring

or discarding patriotic emotion, however, such people may have lost

sight of an insight firmly grasped by thinkers of the late eighteenth

and nineteenth centuries: that patriotic emotion can be a necessary

prop for valuable projects involving sacrifice for others. Italian

revolutionary and nationalist Giuseppe Mazzini, seeing the many

ways in which the rise of capitalism threatened any common project

involving personal sacrifice, believed that national sentiment was a

valuable “fulcrum,” relying on which one could ultimately leverage

generous sentiments extending to all humanity. He doubted that the

immediate appeal to love of all humanity could motivate people

deeply sunk in greed, but he thought that things stood differently

with the idea of the nation, which might acquire a strong

motivational force even when people were rushing to enrich

themselves.10

In this paper I shall argue, first, that Mazzini is correct: national

sentiment can play a valuable and even essential role in creating a

decent society, in which, indeed, liberty and justice are available to

all. I shall argue (albeit briefly11) that attachments to good principles,

and even abstract, principle-dependent emotions, are not sufficient

to motivate people to make big sacrifices. For this we need a type of

love, an emotion that is not simply abstract and principle-dependent,

but that conceives of the nation as a particular, with a specific

history, specific physical features, and specific aspirations that inspire

devotion. I shall then examine the problems before us, a type of

10 See Giuseppe Mazzini, Thoughts upon Democracy in Europe (1846–1847) 67–74

(Toscano 2001) (Salvo Mastellone, trans).

11 For fuller arguments, see Martha Nussbaum, Political Emotions XX (under contract to

Harvard University Press).

2012] Teaching Patriotism 219


Scylla and Charybdis that are all too likely to waylay even the wary

voyager. Scylla, the monster that lured voyagers on one side of the

narrow strait, had many heads, each equipped with sharp teeth12—

and so I shall imagine her here. One “head of Scylla” is the danger of

misplaced and exclusionary values. A second “head” is the danger of

burdening minority conscience by the imposition of ritual

performances. A third “head” is an excessive emphasis on solidarity

and homogeneity that threatens to eclipse the critical spirit. On the

other side of the strait, however, awaits Charybdis, a whirlpool that

threatens to entrap and destroy any ship that steers too far away

from Scylla.13 Charybdis, in this argument, is the danger of “watery”

motivation, the problem that Aristotle thought would beset any

society that tried to run its business without particularized love.14

After discussing and illustrating these dangers, I shall give examples

from both US and Indian history of politicians who were able to

construct a form of patriotism that steered successfully through the

narrow strait: Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King Jr, Mohandas

Gandhi, and Jawaharlal Nehru. After examining key examples of

their achievements, I shall ask how a patriotism of their type might

be taught in schools, and how considerations of both content and

pedagogy are relevant to its success.

II. WHY PATRIOTISM?

In what follows, I shall understand patriotism as a strong

emotion taking the nation as its object. As I shall understand it, it is a

form of love, and thus distinct from simple approval, or commitment,

or embrace of principles. It is closely connected to the feeling that

the nation is one’s own, and it usually includes some reference to that

idea in its rituals. Consider: “My Country, ‘Tis of Thee,” where the

embrace of the nation as “mine” is explicit;15 “Allons Enfants de la

Patrie,”16 where the first-person plural exhorts all Frenchmen to see

the nation as their parent; or India’s “Jana Gana Mana” (the

national anthem),17 in which the “we” identifies itself as comprising

12 Homer, The Odyssey Book XII, lines 100–16 (Osgood 1871) (William Cullen Bryant, trans).

13 Id at Book XII at lines 117–25.

14 Aristotle, The Politics of Aristotle 1262b (Oxford 1958) (Ernest Barker, trans).

15 For sheet music and lyrics, see John Francis Smith, My Country, ’Tis of Thee, in John

Carroll Randolph, Patriotic Songs for School and Home 9, 9 (Oliver Ditson 1899).

16 “Allons Enfants de la Patrie” is commonly refered to as “La Marseilleise.” For sheet

music and lyrics, see Claude Joseph Rouget de Lisle, La Marseillaise, in W.L. Reed and M.J.

Bristow, eds, National Anthems of the World 213, 213–15 (Cassel 10th ed 2002) (“Arise,

children of the fatherland, The day of glory has come.”).

17 For sheet music and lyrics, see Rabindranath Tagore, Jana Gana Mana, in Reed and

Bristow, eds, National Anthems of the World 263, 263–67 (cited in note 16).

220 The University of Chicago Law Review [79:215

people drawn from all of India’s geographical regions and her major

religious traditions.18

This love may be modeled on quite a few different sorts of

personal love. As with the love of a sports team, so here: different

people think differently about the nation’s relationship to them. For

some, the nation is a beloved parent, and that idea is certainly

prominent in many symbolic appeals to patriotism. At other times,

the nation is seen as more like a beloved child, whose growth and

development one desires to promote. At other times, the nation is

seen in a more romantic light, as a beloved beckoning to the lover.

Different patriotic rituals and songs conjure up subtly different forms

of love, and sometimes the same song appeals to more than one.

(“La Marseillaise” begins by imagining France as a parent, but the

beautiful concluding stanza is far more erotic, as liberté cherie is

addressed in tones of awe. “Jana Gana Mana” appeals to a parental

idea in its depiction of the moral principles of the nation as

sustaining and guiding it; but the music is quite erotic.) Even within

one and the same ritual or part of a ritual, different people may

experience different types of love, in keeping with individual needs

and predilections.

In all its forms, however, patriotic love, as I shall discuss it, is

particularistic. It is modeled on family or personal love of some type,

and, in keeping with that origin or analogy, it focuses on specifics:

this or that beautiful geographical feature, this or that historical

event. The thicker it is in these respects, the more likely it is to

inspire. Thus Americans love “America the Beautiful”19 and Woody

Guthrie’s “This Land Is Your Land,”20 albeit ignoring its political

meaning, more than they love the boringly abstract “My Country.”

The specificity and musical eroticism of “Jana Gana Mana” and

Bangladesh’s “Amar Shonar Bangla,”21 both written, words and

music, by the great Rabindranath Tagore, inspire love, while a thin

plodding abstraction could not sustain attention for long.

Throughout I focus on the nation, and that focus is important,

because the nation, in the modern world, is the central source of

people’s rights and duties as citizens. Nonetheless, it is important to

bear in mind that other forms of patriotic love—addressed to the

state, the city, the region—can coexist with love of the nation and

18 For sheet music and lyrics, see id.

19 For sheet music and lyrics, see Katharine Lee Bates, America the Beautiful, in

Theodore Raph, ed, The American Song Treasury: 100 Favorites 350, 350–52 (Dover 1964).

20 For sheet music and lyrics, see Woody Guthrie, This Land Is Your Land, in Dan Fox

and Dick Weissman, eds, The Great Family Songbook 26, 26–28 (Black Dog 2007).

21 For sheet music and lyrics, see Rabindranath Tagore, Amar Shonar Bangla, in Reed

and Bristow, eds, National Anthems of the World 51, 51–58 (cited in note 16).

2012] Teaching Patriotism 221


reinforce it. Sometimes there will be tensions, as when a city or state

pursues goals that the nation as a whole has not embraced. (This is

happening today, for example, with same-sex marriage, a source of

patriotism for New Yorkers and others, but a corresponding source

of alienation from other states and even at times the nation. This

large and fascinating topic, however, I must leave for another

occasion.)

Why do we need an emotion like this? The very particularity

and eroticism of patriotic love make it ripe for capture, it would

seem, by darker forces in our personalities.

Mazzini’s answer was that our lives are immersed in greed and

self-interest; we need a strong emotion directed at the general

welfare to inspire us to support the common good in ways that

involve sacrifice.22 But to have enough motivational strength, this

emotion cannot have a purely abstract object, such as “humanity”: it

must have more concreteness. The idea of the nation, he thought,

was that sort of idea: sufficiently local, sufficiently ours, sufficiently

concrete, or at least susceptible of being made concrete, to motivate

us strongly, and yet large enough to involve our hearts in an object

beyond greed and egoism.23

Psychology has shown by now that Mazzini is correct.24 Like

some other animals (apes, elephants, probably dogs) human beings

are capable of compassion for the suffering and the needs of others.

We have an innate capacity to take up the perspective of another

person, and to see the world from that point of view. And we also

seem to have evolutionary tendencies toward a genuine altruistic

concern for the well-being of at least some people outside ourselves.

In other species, however, altruistic emotion operates in a very

restricted compass. The kinship group is typically its limit, although

in the case of elephants concern may extend to other members of the

species, and in the case of dogs concern may cross the species

boundary to include symbiotic members of other species. The ability

of animals to occupy distant perspectives is evidently quite restricted,

and experimental work with young children shows that the human

ability is similarly narrow. If people are to be willing to sacrifice for

22 Mazzini, Thoughts upon Democracy in Europe at 3 (cited in note 10).

23 See id at 8–9.

24 For more on this topic, see Nussbaum, Political Emotions (cited in note 11). For a very

impressive defense of patriotism in motivating sacrifice, see David Miller, On Nationality ch 3

(Clarendon 1995). I discuss Miller’s arguments at greater length in my paper, Kann es einen

‘gereinigten Patriotismus’ geben?, in Matthias Lutz-Bachmann, Andreas Niederberger and

Philipp Schink, eds, Kosmopolitanismus: Zur Geschichte und Zukunft eines umstrittenen Ideals

242–76 (Velbrück 2010). For a much shorter version of this paper, see Martha C. Nussbuam,

Toward a Globally Sensitive Patriotism, 137 Daedalus 78 (Summer 2008).

222 The University of Chicago Law Review [79:215

people whom they don’t know, the moral imagination will need to be

extended, somehow, beyond the confines of our animal heritage.

How could concern be extended? Here we arrive at another

problem. The moral imagination, it seems, is highly particularistic,

moved to emotion and thence to helping action by the vivid

imagining of another specific person’s plight. For many years

psychologist C. Daniel Batson has done experimental work on

altruism that shows that a reliable way to trigger altruistic emotion in

human adults is to ask them to listen with vivid involvement to

another person’s story of woe.25 Without such a narrative, subjects

fail to experience emotion, and helping behavior is not triggered.

Moreover, the specific trumps the abstract: when people are aware

of an abstract principle of fairness, for example a policy for

allocating scarce organs, but then hear a specific tale of woe

concerning one person, they get involved in that one person’s fate

and are willing to move that person to the top of the list, violating

the principle of fairness that they have accepted. What this shows us

is that abstract attachments have less motivational power than

attachments made vivid through specific history and narrative.

If altruistic emotion is to have motivational power, then, it needs

to hitch itself to the concrete. The idea of the nation, if we follow

Batson’s research, needs to hook us in through several concrete

features: for example, named individuals (founders, heroes), physical

particulars (features of landscape, and vivid images and metaphors),

and, above all, narratives of struggle, involving suffering and hope.

Patriotic emotion typically does all this: it seeks devotion and

allegiance through a colorful story of the nation’s past, which points,

typically, to a future that lies still in doubt. Indeed, the idea of a

nation is, in its very nature, a narrative construct.26 To say what a

given nation is, is to select from all the unordered material of the

past and present a clear narrative that emphasizes some things and

omits others, all in the service of pointing to what the future may

hold—if people care. In one of the most insightful and justly

influential discussions of the idea of the nation, French philosopher

Ernst Renan argued that a nation is not simply a physical location, it

is an idea, a “spiritual principle.”27 This spiritual principle involves,

on the one hand, a story of the past, usually a story of adversity and

25 See generally C. Daniel Batson, Altruism in Humans (Oxford 2011) (representing a

monumental work summarizing a career of rigorous experimental research).

26 See E.J. Hobsbawm, Nations and Nationalism since 1780: Programme, Myth, Reality 12

(Cambridge 1990).

27 Ernest Renan, What Is a Nation?, in Homi K. Bhabha, ed, Nation and Narration 8, 19

(Routledge 1990). This chapter is taken from a lecture delivered at the Sorbonne in 1882.

2012] Teaching Patriotism 223


suffering, and then a commitment to the future, a willingness to live

together and face adversities for the sake of common goals. The two

sides are linked: the story of the past has to tell people what is worth

fighting for in the future. Renan remarks that the past has to have in

it something great or glorious, but it also needs to have loss and

suffering: “Where national memories are concerned, griefs are of

more value than triumphs, for they impose duties, and require a

common effort.”28 Meditating on the glories and sufferings of the

past, people think, “Yes, for those great ideals I too would be willing

to suffer.” Or, in Renan’s words, “One loves in proportion to the

sacrifices to which one has consented, and in proportion to the ills

that one has suffered.”29 Following Batson, we will add that a good

story of a nation’s past will involve not only abstract ideals, but also

particular individuals; not only a conceptual space, but also physical

places.

The need for emotions of loving concern becomes even more

apparent, and their contours more clearly demarcated, when we

consider another area of psychological research: disgust.30 Human

beings are eager to transcend the animality that everyday experience

makes plain: the evident fact that we are not pure spirits, but have

bodies that excrete a variety of smelly, sticky substances and that will

ultimately die and decay. Strategies to avoid contamination by

animal substances coming from our own bodies form a great part of

social life. But then, apparently in a further strategy to keep

ourselves free from animal contamination, human beings create

subordinate groups of humans whom the dominant group identifies

as quasi-animal, as smelly, base, animal-like—and then considers

those humans contaminating. If contact with those subhuman

humans can be avoided, they are that much further away from being

what they are, namely, animal and mortal.

This dynamic can be seen in virtually every society, although the

subordinated groups are not always the same. We see its operations

in European anti-Semitism, in the Indian caste hierarchy, and in

many forms of misogyny and racism. American racism provides a

handy illustration. White racism portrays African Americans as

“lower,” as quasi-animals, projecting onto them properties such as

bad smell, hypersexuality, and other animal traits that are really

28 Id.

29 Id.

30 I have gone into great detail about this in two books: Hiding from Humanity

(Princeton 2004) and From Disgust to Humanity: Sexual Orientation and Constitutional Law

(Oxford 2010). References to the psychological literature should be sought there, as well as in

Nussbaum, Political Emotions (cited in note 11).

224 The University of Chicago Law Review [79:215

present in all humans. Whites then say, because you have these traits

you are contaminating, we must not eat with you, share swimming

pools and drinking fountains with you, or have sex with you. (Of

course, sex across racial lines was ubiquitous, but it was legally

forbidden.)

Such emotions and ideas constitute a great threat to national

projects, if they involve the notion of altruistic sacrifice for a

common good: for they divide the nation into hierarchically ordered

groups that must not meet. What “common good” could cross those

lines? Given that separations motivated by disgust are so common in

real societies, strategies promoting common efforts need to find ways

to surmount this problem. It seems unlikely that abstract principles

on their own can do this job. Given that the other has already been

vividly depicted in one way, as subhuman, the antidote to that way of

imagining must itself come via the imagination, in the form of

experiences of seeing the other as fully human. If the other has been

dehumanized in the imagination, only the imagination can

accomplish the requisite shift. For example, having formed the view

that gay men are loathsome hypersexual animals and sources of

unspecified contagion and decay,31 people will see them differently

only if they have narratives of their lives that portray those lives

differently—as fully human, and as close to those people’s own lives

and purposes. Any call to altruism that fails to deploy the

imagination and emotions in this way leaves in place powerful forces

of division that are very likely to subvert any common labor.

Disgust might be counteracted in the private sphere, without

recourse to national ideals. But one way to overcome it is surely to

link the narrative of the full humanity of the denigrated group to a

story of national struggle and national commitment in Renan’s

sense.32 We’ll see later that one of Martin Luther King Jr’s great

achievements was to promote this emotional transformation in his

audience.33 If educators can portray the denigrated group as part of a

“we” that suffered together in the past and suggest that “we” are

planning together for a future of struggle, but also of hope, this

makes it far more difficult to continue to see the “other” as a

contaminating and excluded outsider. In patriotic emotion, citizens

embrace one another as a family of sorts, sharing common purposes;

thus stigma is overcome (for a time at least) by imagination and love.

In this way, patriotic emotion appears to be crucial for a further

31 For examples of this way of talking about gay men in the pamphlet literature, see

Nussbaum, From Disgust to Humanity at 1, 94 (cited in note 30).

32 See note 27.

33 See notes 84–88 and accompanying text.

2012] Teaching Patriotism 225


reason: because emotion is needed to get people to see the whole as

a whole, rather than as a balkanized set of hierarchically ordered

parts.

III. SCYLLA: EXCLUSIONARY VALUES, COERCED CONSCIENCE,

UNCRITICAL HOMOGENEITY

“Scylla” represents a variety of dangers of strong patriotic

passion gone awry, the set of dangers most frequently associated

with appeals to patriotic love. We need to describe and confront

them if we are to defend the claim that there is a form of patriotic

love that avoids them. Because these dangers are heterogeneous, the

many-headed monster Scylla is an apt metaphor.

The first and most obvious danger is that of misplaced values. If

we are going to whip up strong passions, we want to make sure we

don’t generate enthusiasm for the wrong thing. And it is easy to see

that patriotic love has served a range of unwise causes: foolish and/or

unjust wars, racial or ethnic hatred, religious exclusion. It is on such

cases that people usually focus when they express horror at the very

idea of patriotic love.

It is a little difficult to know what, precisely, this objection is

supposed to be. Does the objector think that there is any inherent

tendency in patriotism that leads to the support of bad rather than

good ends? If so, this analysis needs to be presented. One could, for

example, imagine an argument that it is always unwise to whip up

disgust in public life, given the specific tendencies of that emotion to

lead to the stigmatization and subordination of vulnerable groups.

Indeed, I have made such an argument.34 However, we are talking

here about love, not disgust, and it is much more difficult to see what

argument could be given for the claim that love is always likely to be

unwise, or connected to bad policy choices.

Maybe the objection, instead, is to the idea of the nation as

object of love. Some believe that the very idea of the nation is a

primitive one, to be superceded ultimately by the universal love of

all humanity (and, presumably, the creation of a world state). But

then, that argument itself needs to be stated and examined. I myself

have argued that even in a world dedicated to the pursuit of global

justice, the nation has a valuable role to play, as the largest unit we

know so far that is sufficiently accountable to people and expressive

of their voices.35

34 See generally Nussbaum, Hiding from Humanity (cited in note 30).

35 See Martha C. Nussbaum, Frontiers of Justice: Disability, Nationality, Species

Membership ch 5 (Harvard 2006).

226 The University of Chicago Law Review [79:215

Most often, though, the misplaced values objection is probably

to be parsed as follows. Emotions are always dangerous: look what

trouble they have caused in this case and in that. We can do without

them as we pursue our good values. So we’d better do that. There

are quite a few problems with this very common way of thinking.

First, the objector typically lists the bad goals that emotions have

supported (Nazism, religious persecutions, unjust and unwise wars)

and not the good (the abolition of slavery, the civil rights movement,

the cause of greater economic justice, just and wise wars). Does the

objector believe, for example, that Hitler could have been defeated

without strong passions connected to the idea of the survival of one’s

own nation, whether it be Britain or the United States? Second, as

this example already suggests, the objector just assumes that good

goals propel themselves into existence and sustain themselves

without any strong emotional motivation. History, I believe, proves

that picture wrong. When people don’t care enough about something

to endure hardship for it, things usually go badly. Third, the objector

seems to forget that the bad goals and bad emotions don’t disappear

as we calmly pursue the good: so the question of what happens to the

emotionless good in competition with the emotion-laden bad is not

posed. (Once again: imagine combating Hitler’s Germany without

any sources of love or emotional motivation.)

The best response to give to this group of objections is that we

must be extremely vigilant about the values we encourage people to

love and pursue, and we must encourage continued vigilance by the

cultivation of a critical public culture, the teaching of history in a

critical mode, and the teaching of critical thinking and ethical

reasoning in the schools. I shall elaborate all of this in Part VI.

One way to avoid this danger is to make sure that the narrative

of the nation’s history and current identity is not exclusionary, and

does not emphasize the contribution of a single ethnic, racial, or

religious group to the exclusion of others. A national narrative may,

and frequently is, based on a set of political ideals that can embrace

all citizens, including new immigrants. Conceiving of the nation in

such a way (as both the United States and India have done, but most

of the nations of Europe have not) helps avoid the danger of

ethnocentrism, a crucial aspect of the danger of misplaced values.

One more version of this objection remains. The objector now

says that if, as suggested, the emotions are particularistic, then we

cannot utterly depend on them to generate evenhanded policies that

treat people as equals—even when the object of strong love is the

entire nation. This seems to me to be the best objection of the

misplaced values type, because it identifies a genuine tendency in the

2012] Teaching Patriotism 227


emotions (well demonstrated in Batson’s recent research on

compassion36). And history shows many cases in which the appeal to

the nation is uneven and even exclusionary, defining certain groups

and people as not really part of the nation.37 We shall shortly see how

patriots from Lincoln to Gandhi address this problem. But one

should acknowledge, too, that a crucial role in any decent society is

played by institutions that take matters out of people’s hands in

some key respects. Compassion, however altruistic, can’t run a fair

tax system. So, we turn many things over to institutions and laws.

Nonetheless, these institutions and laws will not sustain themselves

in the absence of love directed at one’s fellow citizens and the nation

as a whole, as current events are showing. The erosion of the New

Deal results from an imaginative and emotional shift, and this shift is

prompting major changes in institutions and laws. So it isn’t

sufficient to create good institutions and then run away and hide. We

have to get our hands dirty by entering the feared emotional terrain.

The second head of Scylla has deep historical roots, and yet it is

relatively easy to answer. Indeed, it has already been decisively

answered. At one time in our history, as we saw at the opening of

this paper, the urgent importance of patriotism was understood to

justify coercion of the young: many states required the Pledge of

Allegiance and the flag salute, and they suspended or expelled

children who refused to join in.38 In a terrible catch-22, the parents of

these children were fined or even jailed for contributing to the

delinquency of a minor, since their children were not in school.39 In at

least one case, that of Russell Tremain, the parents lost custody of

their child as a result, and little Russell was placed in a children’s

home, where he was compelled to recite the Pledge.40

More than one religious group objected to the Pledge as a form

of “idolatry,” but the Jehovah’s Witnesses were the most publicly

influential such group, because they were willing to engage in

litigation, whereas some other groups (including the sect to which

the Tremains belonged) saw litigation as incompatible with their

pacifism.41 Lillian and William Gobitas42 offered convincing and

36 See generally Batson, Altruism in Humans (cited in note 25).

37 See Ellis, To the Flag at 106–07 (cited in note 6).

38 See Minersville School District v Gobitis, 310 US 586, 595–600 (1940).

39 See Ellis, To the Flag at 93 (cited in note 6).

40 See Martha C. Nussbaum, Liberty of Conscience: In Defense of America’s Tradition of

Religious Equality ch 5 (Basic Books 2008).

41 Id at 203–04. For an excellent history of the key role of Jehovah’s Witnesses in this

period, see generally Shawn Francis Peters, Judging Jehovah’s Witnesses: Religious Persecution

and the Dawn of the Rights Revolution (Kansas 2000).

228 The University of Chicago Law Review [79:215

articulate43 testimony that the Pledge was, to them, a violation of

religious requirements.44 Nonetheless, the local school board had no

sympathy for their arguments, contending that their objections were

not genuinely religious.45 Eventually their complaint reached the US

Supreme Court, where they lost.

Minersville School District v Gobitis46 is one of the most infamous

cases in the history of the US Supreme Court. A number of factors

explain the result. Joseph Rutherford, leader of the Witnesses, argued

the case himself and did a very bad job.47 More important still, Justice

Felix Frankfurter’s strong views about patriotism carried the day.

Justice Frankfurter stressed throughout—both in his majority opinion

here48 and in his later dissent in West Virginia State Board of Education

v Barnette49—his personal sympathy with the situation of the Gobitas

children. “One who belongs to the most vilified and persecuted

minority in history is not likely to be insensible to the freedoms

guaranteed by our Constitution,” he wrote, at the time the lone Jew

on the Court.50 Nonetheless, his strong views about the limits of

judicial power, combined with his fervent patriotism,51 led him to

conclude that the regulation requiring the Pledge was not

unconstitutional.52 His patriotic fervor outlived the controversy over

his two opinions: in 1944, as speaker for the District of Columbia’s “I

am an American Day” celebration, he compared love of country to

romantic love, saying that it was too intimate an emotion to be

publicly expressed except in poetry.53 He then read a rather

42 The correct spelling of the name, misspelled as Gobitis in later court documents.

Peters, Judging Jehovah’s Witnesses at 19 (cited in note 41).

43 Lillian wrote out her points as a numbered list, mentioned the biblical texts by number

only, and stressed the constitutional as well as religious arguments. Billy wrote a long

discursive paragraph, quoted the relevant biblical texts, and mentioned his love of his country.

Id at 37.

44 For the background, and a detailed account of the case, see Nussbaum, Liberty of

Conscience at ch 5 (cited in note 40). See also Ellis, To the Flag at 91–105 (cited in note 6);

Peters, Judging Jehovah’s Witnesses at 19–36 (cited in note 41); Peter Irons, The Courage of

Their Convictions 25–35 (Free Press 1988) (containing an interview with the adult Lillan). See

generally Peters, Judging Jehovah’s Witnesses at ch 1–2 (cited in note 41).

45 Peters, Judging Jehovah’s Witnesses at 37–39 (cited in note 41).

46 310 US 586 (1940).

47 Peters, Judging Jehovah’s Witnesses at 48 (cited in note 41).

48 See Gobitis, 310 US at 594.

49 319 US 624, 646 (1943) (Frankfurter dissenting).

50 Id. Despite his allusion to Judaism here, however, Frankfurter was never very Jewishidentified,

in contrast to Brandeis, an influential Zionist.

51 He was known to whistle “The Stars and Stripes Forever” in the halls of the Court,

and he told his biographer, on his deathbed, “Let people see . . . how much I loved my

country.” Peters, Judging Jehovah’s Witnesses at 52 (cited in note 41).

52 Gobitis, 310 US at 600.

53 Peters, Judging Jehovah’s Witnesses at 53 (cited in note 41).

2012] Teaching Patriotism 229


sentimental ode to the flag by Franklin K. Lane, which included the

lines, “I am not the flag, not at all. I am but its shadow.”54 It is

understandable, if not commendable, that the world situation in 1940

led him to take this enthusiasm too far.

In Gobitis, Justice Frankfurter grants that the First Amendment

entails that restrictions on conduct expressive of religious conviction

can be justified only by “specific powers of government deemed by

the legislature essential to secure and maintain that orderly, tranquil,

and free society without which religious toleration itself is

unattainable.”55 He then argues that national unity and cohesion

supply the state with “an interest inferior to none in the hierarchy of

values.”56 The school board’s view that requiring the pledge is crucial

to promote that central interest is plausible, since the flag is “the

symbol of our national unity, transcending all internal differences,

however large.”57 He does not, however, address the real question in

the case: Is it plausible to hold that national unity and cohesion

require enforcing the pledge rule against a small number of children

with sincere religious objections? He focuses on the general issue of

national unity in a time of danger, rather than the conscientious acts

of two respectful teenagers who certainly would not be imitated by

their scoffing peers. So Justice Harlan Stone pointed out in his

stinging dissent: “I cannot say that the inconveniences which may

attend some sensible adjustment of school discipline in order that the

religious convictions of these children may be spared, presents a

problem so momentous or pressing as to outweigh the freedom from

compulsory violation of religious faith which has been thought

worthy of constitutional protection.”58

Justice Frankfurter was wrong and Justice Stone was right, as

the nation soon agreed. The decision was immediately greeted with a

storm of criticism.59 At the same time, escalating violence against

Jehovah’s Witnesses was to some extent blamed on the Court, as if

the decision had given sanction to the popular idea that Jehovah’s

Witnesses were a “fifth column” subverting our nation from within.60

Several Justices gave indications that they might have changed their

54 Id.

55 Gobitis, 310 US at 595.

56 Id.

57 Id at 596.

58 Id at 607 (Stone dissenting).

59 Nussbaum, Liberty of Conscience at 212 (cited in note 40).

60 See note 8 and accompanying text. See also Nussbaum, Liberty of Conscience at ch 5

(cited in note 40) (discussing a variety of cases in which fear motivated discrimination against

religious minorities throughout American history, including Jehovah’s Witnesses).

230 The University of Chicago Law Review [79:215

minds;61 and changed membership on the Court62 suggested that the

other side might now prevail. The Court shortly accepted another

case raising the same issues. In West Virginia State Board of

Education v Barnette, the Court found in favor of the Witness

plaintiffs.63 Justice Robert Jackson’s majority opinion has become

one of the defining landmarks of US political life. Treating the case

as a compelled-speech case rather than one falling under the religion

clauses, he offers a resonant defense of the idea of freedom of

dissent:

If there is any fixed star in our constitutional constellation, it is

that no official, high or petty, can prescribe what shall be

orthodox in politics, nationalism, religion, or other matters of

opinion or force citizens to confess by word or act their faith

therein. If there are any circumstances which permit an

exception, they do not now occur to us.64

He adds that compulsory unity is not even effective: “Those who

begin coercive elimination of dissent soon find themselves

exterminating dissenters. Compulsory unification of opinion achieves

only the unanimity of the graveyard.”65

Barnette gives the right reply to our second objection. Patriotism

and respectful dissent are not incompatible. Indeed, our particular

tradition emphasizes the freedom of dissent, and we should take

pride in that defense of liberty. Given values of a particular sort,

emphasizing individual liberty and the rights of conscience, the

second objection can be straightforwardly answered: our values

preclude such burdens on conscience, unless a national security

interest is far stronger and more immediate than it was in this case.

In general, children may not be burdened against their conscience by

required patriotic rituals in the schools.

Today the idea of noncoercion is well understood, and even its

subtler aspects have had sympathetic attention. In Lee v Weisman,66

for example, the Court understood the subtle coercion that might be

present if a student were required to stand during a middle-school

graduation prayer, especially when the only alternative was not to

attend her own graduation.67 Justice Anthony Kennedy’s opinion

focused on the dangers of coercive pressure to conscience and

61 Nussbaum, Liberty of Conscience at 212 (cited in note 40).

62 Id.

63 Barnette, 319 US at 641.

64 Id at 642.

65 Id at 641.

66 505 US 577 (1992).

67 Id at 592.

2012] Teaching Patriotism 231


enforced orthodoxy in the schools.68 So central is this decision in

current Establishment Clause jurisprudence that, in the abortive case

involving the words “under God” in the Pledge, Justice Clarence

Thomas would have upheld even a noncompulsory public recitation

of the Pledge primarily by denying the incorporation of the

Establishment Clause and thus discarding this and numerous other

precedents.69

The coercion objection is no longer a serious issue. Young

people may not find their conscience burdened in the schools. Its

legacy, however, is a more subtle form of peer pressure. Lillian

Gobitis recalls how, when the school bus drove by their home,

children jeered and threw things at them.70 So it is not just legal

imposition of conformity that we have to worry about in schools, it is

the tyranny of peer pressure, an all-too-ubiquitous human tendency,

as psychologist Solomon Asch has effectively shown.71 Therefore

teachers and other school officials need to be vigilant in their defense

of minorities—religious and political, as well as racial and sexual.

The problem of bullying, however, is hardly unique to the issue of

patriotism, and it supplies no reason not to teach patriotism that is

not also a reason not to educate children in groups at all!

The question of peer pressure brings us to our third objection on

the side of “Scylla”: Won’t a culture in which patriotic emotion is a

major theme be likely to be all too solidaristic, all too homogeneous,

lacking free spaces for individual expression and for dissent? As with

the second issue, we should begin by saying that this is not a problem

peculiar to patriotism. Human beings are all too prone to defer to

peer pressure, as Asch showed,72 and to be obedient to authority, as

Stanley Milgram showed.73 As Socrates argued, the Athenian

democracy was all too prone to ignore critical argument, making its

decisions by deference to tradition and other unthinking forces. To

Socrates, this meant that democracy was not conducting its business

well, and needed to be awakened by the “gadfly” sting of his critical

reasoning.74 So the problem is one that has beset democracy ever

68 See especially id.

69 Elk Grove Unified School District v Newdow, 542 US 1, 49–51 (2004) (Thomas

concurring).

70 Irons, The Courage of Their Conviction at 25–35 (cited in note 44).

71 See Solomon Asch, Opinions and Social Pressure (Panarchy 1955), online at

http://www.panarchy.org/asch/social.pressure.1955.html (visited Oct 30, 2011).

72 See id.

73 See Stanley Milgram, Obedience to Authority 3–5 (Harper 1974). For my discussion of

both Asch and Milgram, see Political Emotions at ch 6 (cited in note 11).

74 James Riddell, ed, The Apology of Plato: With a Revised Text and English Notes and a

Digest of Platonic Idioms 30E–31C (Oxford 1867).

232 The University of Chicago Law Review [79:215

since democracy began to exist. But certainly, strong patriotic

emotion might be one area in which people seek to silence critical

voices. How might this danger be headed off?

Justice Jackson gives us the best path to follow: we must insist

that the truly patriotic attitude is one that repudiates orthodoxy and

coercive pressure and celebrates liberties of speech and conscience.75

His stirring rhetoric is one example of a patriotic statement that can

move people powerfully, even while making them think and

endorsing the value of thinking. In general, we need to cultivate the

critical faculties early and continuously, and to show admiration for

them, insisting that critical freedom, not herd-like obedience, is the

mark of the true patriot. This can be done in many ways, and some

of them involve strong emotions. Children are herd creatures, but

they are also, at other times, dissenters, and the joy of freedom and

critical dissent can be encouraged from the beginning of a child’s life.

I am sure that my own early love of that young girl who rode farther

than Paul Revere was a love of the idea of the break with tradition,

the pursuit of freedom, that the American Revolution represented.

The idea of America, for me, was characterized from the beginning

by a strong flavor of dissent and experimentation, even defiance.

Many beloved parts of the American literary and filmic canon, from

Twelve Angry Men to To Kill a Mockingbird, valorize the lone

dissenter as the true patriot.

We can have no better example of the way in which patriotic

emotion can focus on the value of critical freedom than the song

“Ekla Cholo Re” by Rabindranath Tagore, which was the favorite

song of Mahatma Gandhi and became a linchpin of his freedom

movement:

If no one answers your call, then walk on alone.

(Walk alone, walk alone, walk on alone.)

If no one says a thing, oh you unlucky soul,

If faces are turned away, if all go on fearing—

Then opening up your heart,

You speak up what’s on your mind, you speak up alone.

If they all turn back, oh you unlucky soul,

If, at the time of taking the deep dark path, no one cares—

Then the thorns that are on the way,

O you, trampling those with bloodied feet, you tramp on alone.

If a lamp no one shows, oh you unlucky soul,

If in a rainstorm on a dark night they bolt their doors—

75 For an example of Jackson’s passionate majority opinion in Barnett, which emphasized

the importance of dissent, see note 95 and accompanying text.

2012] Teaching Patriotism 233


Then in the flame of thunder

Lighting your own ribs, go on burning alone.76

The music expresses determination: there is a rhythm as of

walking on, which continues throughout. It expresses solitude and

exposure: the single vocal line, the sense of passionate risk in the

voice. But above all, it also expresses joy. It is in fact a very happy,

even delighted, song, full of gusto and affirmation. People love this

song, and their love was highly relevant to the success of Gandhi’s

resistance movement. As he walked along with his walking stick and

his simple loincloth—and his childlike delight in life, so often

observed by those who met him—he seemed to embody the spirit of

that song, and the fusion of artistic image with living exemplar was

(and is) powerfully moving. That’s how the spirit of solitary dissent—

combined with joy—can galvanize a population.

Patriotism of the right sort can, it seems, avoid the three dangers

represented by Scylla. But still, one might ask, why play with fire?

IV. CHARYBDIS: “WATERY MOTIVATION”

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Given these dangers, one might wonder whether it is not a

better idea to dispense with patriotic love altogether, in favor of

sentiments more principle-dependent, cooler, and therefore, it might

seem, more reliable. Two leading political thinkers of the twentieth

century, John Rawls and Jürgen Habermas, take this course.77 Both,

however, fail to cultivate strong sustaining emotions because they

are insufficiently alert to the problem of “watery motivation.” They

propose solutions that are simply too abstract to command the love

of real people.

The name “watery” motivation comes from Aristotle’s criticism

of Plato’s ideal city. Plato tried to remove partiality by removing

family ties, and asking all citizens to care equally for all other

citizens.78 Aristotle says that the difficulty with this strategy is that

“there are two things above all that make people love and care for

something, the thought that it is all theirs, and the thought that it is

the only one they have. Neither of these will be present in that city.”79

76 Rabindranath Tagore, Ekla Cholo Re, in Of Love, Nature, and Devotion: Selected

Songs of Rabindranath Tagore 305–07 (Oxford 2008) (Kalpana Bardhan, trans). I have not

followed all of Bardhan’s use of spacing and indentation, which are valuable to give a sense of

the rhythm of the original, but only if one is familiar with her system.

77 John Rawls, A Theory of Justice 479–504 (Belknap 1971); Jürgen Habermas,

Citizenship and National Identity: Some Reflections on the Future of Europe, 12 Praxis Intl 1,

14–18 (1992).

78 Aristotle, Politics at 1262b25–30 (cited in note 14).

79 Id at 1262b22–23.

234 The University of Chicago Law Review [79:215

Because nobody will think of a child that it is all theirs, entirely their

own responsibility, the city will, he says, resemble a household in

which there are too many servants, so nobody takes responsibility for

any task.80 Because nobody will think of any child or children that

they are the only ones they have, the intensity of care that

characterizes real families will simply not appear, and we will have,

he says, a “watery” kind of care all round.81 In short, to make

someone love something requires making them see it as “their own,”

and, preferably also, as “the only one they have.”

Patriotic love can be lofty, and it can in some sense cultivate an

impartial altruism, by asking people to love the nation as a whole, and

thus all of its people. But it had better do so by getting people to love

something that is all their own, and, preferably, the only one they

have.82

V. GOOD EXAMPLES: LINCOLN, KING, GANDHI, NEHRU

I now turn to history. There are many constructions of

patriotism that negotiate the narrow strait between Scylla and

Charybdis, promoting particular love while not silencing the critical

faculties. Let us look at two very different cases: the attempt to end

the injustice of slavery and racial discrimination in the United States,

and the attempt to forge a new Indian nation that would be

dedicated to combating economic inequality. In each case I shall

focus on political rhetoric—not because I do not believe that

sculpture, music, the planning of public parks, and many other things

are also very important,83 but simply because that is a good

preparation for the discussion of schools to follow, since these

documents are also pillars of education for patriotism in their

respective nations.

As we consider them, we must remember Renan and

Hobsbawm: a nation is not an entity whose essence is simply given,

but a “spiritual principle” that is constructed out of many possible

ingredients. These speakers are, then, not so much alluding to a

preexisting national identity as they are constructing it out of the

materials made available by history and memory; some realities are

80 Id at 1261b35–38.

81 Id at 1262b15.

82 For a discussion of this question in greater detail in the SSRN version of this paper,

analyzing Rawls’s and Habermas’s proposals and looking at the related ideas of Roman Stoic

philosopher (and Emperor) Marcus Aurelius, see generally Martha C. Nussbaum, Teaching

Patriotism: Love and Critical Freedom (University of Chicago Public Law and Legal Theory

Working Paper No 357, July 2011), online at http://papers.ssrn.com/sol3

/papers.cfm?abstract_id=1898313 (visited Oct 30, 2011).

83 See Nussbaum, Political Emotions at ch 7 (cited in note 11).

2012] Teaching Patriotism 235


made salient, others downplayed or omitted. Our task will be to see

how these people perform that task in a way that enables them to

avoid both Scylla and Charybdis, inspiring strong love of a particular

without coercive homogeneity or misplaced values.84

Abraham Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation

in 1863. One hundred years later, its promise was not fulfilled.

Martin Luther King’s great “I Have a Dream” speech, delivered in

Washington, DC, on August 28, 1963, is, like Lincoln’s great

speeches, among the formative documents of American education,

and all young Americans have heard it thousands of times, recited in

the moving cadences of King’s extraordinary voice. Nobody could

doubt that it is a masterpiece of rhetoric, and that its achievements

go well beyond the abstract sentiments that it conveys. Its soaring

images of freedom and revelation, its musical cadences, all give the

bare ideas of freedom, dignity, inclusion, and nonviolence wings, so

to speak.

Let us now examine the way in which King appeals to the

history and traditions of the nation, constructing sentiments

connected to an idea of America that is, once again, critical and

interpretive, bringing forward valuable general ideals from the past

and using them to find fault with an unjust reality:

Fivescore years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic

shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation.

This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to

millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of

withering injustice. . . .

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free; one

hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled

by the manacles of segregation and the chains of

discrimination . . . .

So we’ve come here today to dramatize a shameful condition. In

a sense we’ve come to our nation’s capital to cash a check.

When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent

words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence,

they were signing a promissory note to which every American

was to fall heir. This note was the promise that all men, yes,

black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the

84 For a discussion of Lincoln’s “Gettysburg Address” and “Second Inaugural

Address” within the framework that follows, see Nussbaum, Teaching Patriotism at *21–23

(cited in note 82).

236 The University of Chicago Law Review [79:215

“inalienable rights” of “life, liberty and the pursuit of

happiness.”

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this

promissory note, in so far as her citizens of color are concerned.

Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given

the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back

marked “insufficient funds.” We refuse to believe that there are

insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this

nation.

. . .

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand

on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In

the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of

wrongful deeds.

Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking

from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct

our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must

not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical

violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of

meeting physical force with soul force.

. . .

[After the prophetic “I have a dream” sections]:

This will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to

sing with new meaning—“my country ‘tis of thee,” sweet land of

liberty, of thee I sing; land where my fathers died, land of the

Pilgrim’s pride; from every mountainside, let freedom ring”—

and if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.

So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New

Hampshire.

Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.

Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of

Pennsylvania.

Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado.

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.

But not only that.

Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia.

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.

2012] Teaching Patriotism 237


Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi,

from every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from

every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city,

we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s

children—black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles,

Protestants and Catholics—will be able to join hands and sing in

the words of the old Negro spiritual, “Free at last, free at last;

thank God Almighty, we are free at last.”85

The speech begins with an allusion to the Gettysburg Address,

positioning itself as its next chapter, so to speak. Just as Lincoln

looked back to the Founding as a moment of commitment to ideals

that he sees as gravely threatened, so King looks back to Lincoln’s

freeing of the slaves as a moment of commitment whose promise is

still unrealized. He uses a very mundane, and very American image

for that failure: the nation has given the Negro people a bad check

that has come back marked “insufficient funds.” This insistent

appeal to fiscal rectitude is also a way of alluding to America, since

Americans so love to think of themselves as characterized by that

virtue.

Throughout the speech, King sounds a note of urgency: the

“sweltering summer of the Negro’s legitimate discontent” means that

there will be no peace in America until justice is done. But he also

cultivates in his followers a patriotism that is restrained and critical

of violence: they must, in Gandhian fashion, attain moral superiority

by forgoing violent deeds. Like Gandhi, he makes nonviolence seem

high, “majestic,” and violence look sordid. And he also, like Lincoln,

appeals to trust between the races, reminding his followers that many

white people are present and have joined the struggle for justice.

“We cannot walk alone.” By cultivating hope and trust, along with

legitimate anger, he defuses the urge to violence.

The visionary “I have a dream” section of the speech, so well

known, is central to its construction of an image of a future nation in

which all may join together on terms of equality. But then,

immediately following upon this vision of a new America, King

returns to national memory and national tradition by quoting in full

the famous song “America,” or “My Country ‘Tis of Thee.” Very

significantly, he now says, “And if America is to be a great nation,

this must become true.” In other words, the song, which people

usually sing complacently, as the account of a reality, is itself

85 Martin Luther King Jr, I Have a Dream, in James M. Washington, ed, A Testament of

Hope: The Essential Writings and Speeches of Martin Luther King, Jr. 217, 217–20 (Harper 1991).

238 The University of Chicago Law Review [79:215

prophecy, and its words of freedom must be made true by committed

action for justice. Even that complacent song, then, is turned into an

exercise of the critical faculties.

The next section of the speech can best be described in the

language of jazz, as a series of riffs on the song, as freedom is asked

to ring from a series of regions of America. What is going on here?

Several very interesting things, I think. First, the image of America is

being made concrete and physical by being linked to well-known

features of geography. Second, geography itself is being moralized:

the mountains of New York are now not just mountains, they are

sites of freedom. Third, the body of the nation is being personified in

a sensuous, indeed sexy, way: the “heightening Alleghenies,” the

“curvaceous slopes.” (Thus the invitations to disgust so ubiquitous in

malign patriotism are replaced by an embrace of the sensuous,

reminiscent of Walt Whitman.) But also: the end of the Civil War is

finally at hand, as freedom is asked to ring from a series of sites in

the South. In a manner reminiscent of the Lincoln’s second

inaugural,86 King expresses malice toward none and charity toward

all. The note of sly humor, as he gets in his dig at Mississippi (“let

freedom ring from every hill and every molehill of Mississippi”87) is a

reminder that bad behavior has not been forgotten—it has, however,

been aufgehoben into a surge of joy whose object is the nation of the

future.

Like Lincoln’s speech, King’s ends on a global note: the victory

of integration in America will “speed up that day when all of God’s

children” will enjoy freedom.88 Thus critical patriotism melds

naturally into a striving for global justice and an inclusive human

love.

Lincoln and King express, and inspire in others, a profound love

of America and a pride in her highest ideals. They do so, however,

while constructing a narrative of America that is aspirational,

foregrounding the best values to which America may be thought to

be committed, and also deeply and explicitly critical, showing that

America has failed to live up to her ideals. Both sound a note of

critical yet hopeful rededication. The speeches seem made for

pedagogy, for they lead naturally into classroom discussion: Where

did America go wrong? What might be good ways of realizing the

86 Abraham Lincoln, Second Inaugural Address, reprinted in Melvin I. Urofsky and Paul

Finkelman, eds, Documents of American Constitutional and Legal History, Volume I: From the

Founding to 1896 487, 487–88 (Oxford 3d ed 2008) (reflecting upon the tragic events of the

Civil War that occurred since the first inaugural, but encouraging all Americans to recover

together “with malice toward none, with charity for all”).

87 King, I Have a Dream at 220 (cited in note 85).

88 Compare id at 220 (emphasis added) with Lincoln, Second Inaugural (cited in note 86).

2012] Teaching Patriotism 239


dream inherent in national ideals? How, even today, are we falling

gravely short of the promise in our founding documents?

Let us now turn to India. This case is different from the case of

the United States because it concerns the founding of a nation.

There are in that sense no canonical documents or traditions, no

memories of long-past struggles, that can command the agreement

and the sentiments of all. Indeed to this day a struggle continues over

the proper image of the nation and its history, as partisans of the

Hindu Right endeavor to characterize that history as one of

indigenous Hindu peace and alien domination, first by Muslims and

then by Christians.89 Gandhi and Nehru, setting out to forge the

image of a pluralistic India, united by commitment to a truly shared

history of struggle for self-rule and by a shared commitment to the

nation’s people, had an uphill battle, since colonial oppression bred

in many a strong desire to perform deeds of manly aggression,

countering perceived humiliation with tough-guy domination.90 Their

struggle involved, then, not just a set of ideals that were controverted

by other more exclusionary ideals, but a conception of true

manliness and truly strong patriotism that was controverted by a

more warlike form of patriotism.

This struggle is neatly exemplified by the struggle, which is

ongoing, over which of two songs should be the national anthem of

India. The actual national anthem of India, “Jana Gana Mana,” was

written (both words and music) by poet, novelist, and theorist of

global justice Rabindranath Tagore, a determined critic of most

existing forms of nationalism and patriotism.91 Written in a highly

Sanskritized Bengali, so as to make it maximally available in a nation

of many languages,92 its addressee is an immortal spirit of

righteousness, equivalent to the moral law:

Thou art the ruler of the minds of all people,

Dispenser of India’s destiny.

Thy name rouses the hearts of Punjab, Sind,

Gujarat and Maratha,

Of the Dravida and Orissa and Bengal;

It echoes in the hills of the Vindhyas and Himalayas,

89 See Martha C. Nussbaum, The Clash Within: Democracy, Religious Violence, and

India’s Future ch 5–7 (Belknap 2007).

90 See id at 199–200.

91 See generally Rabindranath Tagore, Nationalism (Greenwood 1917) (collecting

lectures delivered in 1917). “Jana Gana Mana” was not written as the national anthem; it was

written much earlier, as Tagore’s form of indirect protest against the visit of George V to India.

See Nussbaum, Political Emotions at ch 3 (cited in note 11).

92 India has twenty-two official languages, and over three hundred that are actually

spoken. Nussbaum, The Clash Within at 7 (cited in note 89).

240 The University of Chicago Law Review [79:215

Mingles in the music of Jamuna and Gange and is

Chanted by the waves of the Indian Ocean.

They pray for thy blessings and sing thy praise.

The saving of all people waits in thy hand,

Thou dispenser of India’s destiny.

Victory, victory, victory, Victory to thee.

Your call is announced continuously, we heed

Your gracious call

The Hindus, Buddhists, Sikhs, Jains, Parsees,

Muslims, and Christians,

The East and the West come, to the side of Your throne,

And weave the garland of love.

Oh! You who bring in the unity of the people!

Victory be to You, dispenser of the destiny of India!93

The Tagore anthem puts beautiful, sensuous poetry and music

underneath inclusive and egalitarian moral sentiment. Its notion of

victory is a moral, not a warlike, notion. “Jana Gana Mana” asks for

the victory of this ideal principle—as a result of the passionate love

of all the people. In one sense it is obviously a song of resistance and

the freedom movement. More generally, though, it is a call for a

nation that is moved to its depths both by the beauty of nature and

by moral ideals, and that sees the two as somehow fused together.

Unlike the competing idea that India should declare itself a Hindu

nation, moreover, this India is plural through and through, including

all of India’s regions and religious groups.

Musically, “Jana Gana Mana” is very easy to sing, ranging over

just an octave, so people really do sing it with pleasure. It has a

swaying rhythm, rather like a dreamy dance, and suggests nothing of

the martial. People naturally put arms around one another, or hold

hands, or simply sway to the music. It goes naturally with the

contemplation of nature, as one can see from the beautiful version

by film composer A.R. Rahman (a convert to Sufi Islam, who

formerly had the Hindu name Dilip Kumar94), released as the official

government version on the occasion of India’s fiftieth anniversary,

and easily found on YouTube. This version wonderfully embodies

the spirit of the song, showing people (individuals or small groups)

from many different backgrounds and walks of life playing

instruments (both Indian and “Western”) in different stirring and

beautiful sites in the Indian landscape. Following the instrumental

93 I cite only the first two stanzas; the entire anthem is further discussed in Nussbaum,

Political Emotions at ch 3 (cited in note 11).

94 Ben Sisario, Slumdog Fusionist in Oscar Spotlight, NY Times C1 (Feb 20, 2009).

2012] Teaching Patriotism 241


version, the anthem is sung by a group of artists deliberately varied

in ethnicity, religion, gender, and age, with evident joy, and sinuous

hand gestures that go well with the music; at the end they are all

shown together.95

There is something very odd about the way the anthem ends. As

jaya he, “victory to thee,” rises to the subdominant, we expect a

resolution into the tonic, but we are denied that resolution. When I

hear or sing it, I always hear it as unfinished, beckoning to a

resolution that is deferred, not yet available. Nor is my experience

the mere creation of a Western musical education. My colleague

Dipesh Chakrabarty reports to me that when he sang the song in

primary school, he and all his classmates kept going on, by returning

to the refrain, bharata bhagya vidhata, and thus reaching what

seemed like a more appropriate resolution on the tonic—until the

teacher corrected them. I feel that it is not at all implausible to hear

this unfinished cadence as the expression of the same idea that

Nehru conveyed in his “tryst with destiny” speech,96 that national

pride is most appropriately expressed by emphasizing the unfinished

work that lies before the nation: “And so we have to labour and to

work, and to work hard, to give reality to our dreams.”97 “Jana Gana

Mana,” in a bold violation of musical expectations, gestures toward a

future of work. Chakrabarty says that this idea makes sense to him,

and it makes the invocation of “victory” more appropriate, in the

context of continued suffering, than it otherwise would be. The

critical spirit has even been built into the music of a national

anthem—and, thence, into the ritual performance of singing it daily

in schools, as the teacher repeatedly corrects the children and tells

them that the anthem ends on an unfinished note.98

Because the anthem is addressed to a spirit of righteousness, and

because it was known to have been a song in protest of George V, by

an author who had returned his knighthood to the crown in protest

over British atrocities at Amritsar,99 its content as well as its musical

form strongly awakens the critical spirit: How can a newly free India

surmount the ills of colonial oppression in a truly righteous way?

Indeed, it is closely linked to “Ekla Cholo Re,” which, as we already

95 It is significant that this is the version of the national anthem that the government of

India chose to put forward as its official birthday version, with its message of interreligious and

interethnic harmony.

96 Jawahrlal Nehru, Independence and After: A Collection of Speeches, 1946–1949 3–4

(Day 1971).

97 Id at 4.

98 See text accompanying notes 64–65.

99 Nussbaum, The Clash Within at 13 (cited in note 89).

242 The University of Chicago Law Review [79:215

saw, praises the wide-awake critical spirit voyaging on alone.100

Combined, the two songs construct a vigilant, critical patriotism that

is still joyous and full of love. This love is connected to its

inclusiveness of all of India’s people.

Compare the anthem preferred by the Hindu Right, known as

“Bande Mataram” (“Hail Motherland”), taken from a novel by the

nineteenth-century Bengali novelist, and early nationalist,

Bankimchandra Chatterjee.101 I cite it in the well-known translation by

philosopher Sri Aurobindo:

Mother, I bow to thee!

Rich with thy hurrying streams,

Bright with thy orchard gleams,

Cool with thy winds of delight,

Dark fields waving, Mother of might,

Mother free.

Glory of moonlight dreams

Over thy branches and lordly streams,

Clad in thy blossoming trees,

Mother, giver of ease.

Laughing low and sweet!

Mother, I kiss thy feet,

Speaker sweet and low!

Mother, to thee I bow.

Who hath said thou are weak in thy lands,

When the swords flash out in twice seventy million hands

And seventy million voices roar

Thy dreadful name from shore to shore?

. . .

Thou art wisdom, thou art law,

Thou our heart, our soul, our breath,

Thou the love divine, the awe

In our hearts that conquers death.102

The Chatterjee anthem, still championed by the Hindu Right,

which would like to displace “Jana Gana Mana,” cultivates an

attitude of uncritical religious devotion to the motherland, which is

portrayed in exclusionary Hindu terms as a range of Hindu

goddesses. (Thus the not-too-subtle suggestion is that India is a

100 See Tagore, Ekla Cholo Re at 205–07 (cited in note 76).

101 Nussbaum, The Clash Within at 11 (cited in note 89). Chatterjee is one of the targets of

Tagore’s mordant critique of warlike nationalism in his 1916 novel. See generally

Rabindranath Tagore, The Home and the World (Penguin 1985) (Surendreanath Tagore,

trans).

102 Nussbaum, The Clash Within at 11–12 (cited in note 89).

2012] Teaching Patriotism 243


Hindu nation, in which Muslims will always be outsiders.) It also

cultivates aggression against the foes of the nation. It constructs a

nation that is exclusionary and a patriotism that is submissive, thus

running right into the heads of Scylla, albeit avoiding (in its capacity

to inspire strong passion) the whirlpool of Charybdis.

There is a parallel debate about the Indian flag.103 The existing

flag has at its center the wheel of law, a symbol associated with the

Buddhist emperor Ashoka, who fostered religious toleration. It is

then a symbol of religious inclusiveness, nonviolence, and the

supremacy of law. If a flag can suggest the critical spirit, this one

does so. The flag preferred by the Hindu Right is the saffron banner

of the eighteenth-century Maharashtrian hero Shivaji, who

conducted a briefly successful rebellion against Muslim rule.104 It is an

aggressive and exclusionary symbol, a symbol that says that Hindus

will strike back against centuries of humiliation and seize power for

themselves, subordinating others. And it is closely associated with

the oath of loyalty taken every day by members of the Rashtriya

Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), as they raise that saffron banner:

I take the oath that I will always protect the purity of Hindu

religion, and the purity of Hindu culture, for the supreme

progress of the Hindu nation. I have become a component of

the RSS. I will do the work of the RSS with utmost sincerity and

unselfishness and with all my body, soul, and resources. And I

will keep this vow for as long as I live. Victory to Mother

India.105

The patriotism engendered by “Bande Mataram” deliberately

silences the critical faculties. “We worship the saffron flag as our

guru,” young group leaders tell filmmaker Lalit Vachani. “We bow

before you, we are prepared to serve your cause.”106

There was no more canny creator of critical patriotism than

Mohandas Gandhi. Let us now turn to his career, in order to pursue

this contrast in patriotisms further. Gandhi wrote copiously, but his

success in forging an activist and yet critical patriotism for the new

nation, a vast majority of whose inhabitants could not read and write,

owes little to his writings. What Gandhi brilliantly did was to make

his own body a living symbol of a conception of the nation that was

at one and the same time traditional and revisionary, stirring and

highly critical. In keeping with his idea that the essential site of

103 See id at 154–55.

104 Id at 154.

105 Id. For more on the RSS, see id at ch 5.

106 Nussbaum, The Clash Within at 152–54 (cited in note 89).

244 The University of Chicago Law Review [79:215

national struggle is inside each person, a struggle to conquer greed

and anxious desires for domination of others, in favor of

compassionate concern, he portrayed himself as someone whose

entire life focused on that struggle against greedy desire.107 He did not

fashion himself in a vacuum: he relied heavily on traditional Hindu

images of the ascetic sannyasi,108 and he therefore had to be very

careful lest his image of the nation seem Hindu in an exclusionary

way. Consequently, throughout his life, he took care to put Muslims

in central positions in his freedom movement and to turn to them at

what we might call key ritual moments. Thus, his famous fast unto

death in 1947 was broken when he turned to Maulana Azad, a

Muslim cleric and Congress party leader, asking him for some orange

juice and some bread.109

He thus broke totally with traditional Hindu ideas of purity,

which were exclusionary along lines of both caste and religion.

Wielding the enormous power of traditional asceticism, he at the

same time diverted it to an utterly new cause.

At the same time, Gandhi constructed his body as a symbol of

unity across lines of wealth and caste. If one examines the change in

his physical appearance between the early days in South Africa and

the height of his influence in India, what one sees is a deliberately

cultivated solidarity with the lowest and poorest, into which the force

of his moral authority also led the elites around him. Moreover, this

solidarity was joyous and full of delight in life, not ominously severe.

To see an elite Kashmiri Brahmin such as Jawaharlal Nehru spinning

his own thread, or marrying his daughter Indira in a homespun sari,

is to see the magnitude of the transformation Gandhi was able to

accomplish. His half-naked persona, draped only in a loincloth and

propped up by a walking stick, etched itself indelibly into the mind of

the nation, and the world.

Gandhi also constructed a new form of patriotism through his

theater of civil resistance. Both supremely moral and supremely

strategic, Gandhi knew that when the eyes of the world were on

India, dignified nonviolent behavior both seemed and was both

strong and self-governing, and that British thuggishness seemed and

was puny and ugly by contrast.110 He knew how to theatricalize the

moral superiority of the India cause—for example, by arranging

107 Id at 333.

108 A sannyasi is a thinker who renounces worldly ties for religion reasons. See Henk W.

Wagenaar, et al, Allied Chambers Transliterated Hindi-Hindi-English Dictionary 1022 (Allied

1993).

109 Rajmohan Gandhi, Gandhi: The Man, His People, and the Empire 646 (California 2008).

110 See, for example, id at 265.

2012] Teaching Patriotism 245


episodes of civil resistance that would surely lead to countless

Indians getting beaten up by British soldiers whose violence looked

increasingly desperate and small. In the process, he made both his

followers and countless others see manliness in a new way: the body

that stood with dignity, taking blows, looked strong and proud. The

body that kept dishing out the blows looked utterly at sea, hopelessly

weak, not able to touch what it was trying to control. These acts of

civil disobedience were often accompanied by the Tagore song “Ekla

Cholo Re,” a reminder that true national love requires constant

critical vigilance and the willingness to defy convention.

Gandhian patriotism asked a lot of people. It asked the rich to

live in solidarity with the poor and to make huge sacrifices of

personal comfort. It asked all men to adopt a new type of nonviolent

manliness that entailed a great deal of sacrifice, since revenge is

pleasant. Only the use of symbols, Gandhi repeatedly said,111 could

succeed in making people willing to take on these difficult tasks.

Fortunately, he was a brilliant forger of symbols, symbols that moved

because they were old and yet included because they were utterly

new. And, to return to a subtheme, he was also a brilliant wielder of

humor, who found ways to include it through a kind of loving

childlike play. Thus, a common reaction to meeting him was to be

surprised that he was not forbiddingly austere or saintly, but puckish

and delightful.

Gandhi’s version of patriotism was controversial, and it led to

his death. His assassin, Nathuram Godse, proclaimed an alternative

version of patriotism, exclusionary and aggressive.112 Gandhi’s

version, however, is the one that won out, enshrined in India’s

constitution and in the founding principles laid down in Jawaharlal

Nehru’s famous speech on the night of India’s independence.113

* * *

Our examples show us that patriotism can be inspiring, making

the nation an object of love, while also activating rather than

silencing the critical faculties. Such achievements are always

unstable, since love needs to be cultivated anew in each generation,

111 See, for example, Letter from Mahatma Gandhi Letter to Prithvi Singh (May 21,

1939), in 75 Collected Works of Mahatma Gandhi Online *413, 413–14 (GandhiServe

Foundation), online at http://www.gandhiserve.org/cwmg/VOL075.PDF (visited Oct 30, 2011).

112 See Nussbaum, The Clash Within at 166 (cited in note 89). For a fuller discussion of

Godse’s statement of self-justification, see Nussbaum, Teaching Patriotism at *31 (cited in

note 82).

113 The longer version analyzes that speech. See Nussbaum, Teaching Patriotism at *31–32

(cited in note 82).

246 The University of Chicago Law Review [79:215

and kept alive throughout people’s lives. Let us now ask how schools

can contribute to this mission.

VI. PATRIOTISM IN THE SCHOOLS: CONTENT AND PEDAGOGY

In one sense, the topic of teaching patriotism in the schools is

nothing less than the topic of forming citizens in the schools, a topic

that would require us, as I’ve long argued, to talk about the

importance of the humanities and arts for a decent public culture.114

Our larger question about the formation of a citizen who is both

loving and critical requires an entire account of how critical thinking

is taught at various ages, how Socratic pedagogy complements that

content, and how the imaginative ability to inhabit the points of view

of people different from the self can be refined and cultivated at

different ages. All this I have tried to present elsewhere,115 and so I

shall confine myself here to a very narrow understanding of my

topic, speaking only about the formation of emotions explicitly

directed toward the nation and its story. Rather than a synthetic

account, I shall present a list of maxims that ought to guide

instruction in patriotism. These maxims are but a supplement to the

historical examples given above, which give a good idea of how a

critical yet loving patriotism works; those examples would be

prominent in any education for patriotism in the schools of those two

nations.

1. Begin with love. Children will not be good dissenters in or

critics of a nation unless they first care about the nation and its

history. My own education did this very well, hooking me in by the

dramatic tale of Sybil Ludington in the Revolution, a character who

resonated with my love of adventure and my ambition to be

something daring, and a girl who did what girls usually don’t do.116 By

the time I was seven, I already loved the American Founding and

saw myself in it—but, and this is important—in a way that laid the

groundwork for a lot of criticism later on, since I saw the story of

America as a story of dissent, of the rejection of false values and the

search for freedom. Something as abstract as political liberty

acquired motivational force through its embodiment in the persona

of a little girl whom I wanted to be, riding horses and pursuing a

remarkable adventure. She was a defiant girl, not a submissive

traditionalist, and so I linked love of country to that spirit of

114 See generally Martha C. Nussbaum, Cultivating Humanity: A Classical Defense of

Reform in Liberal Education (Harvard 1997); Martha C. Nussbaum, Not for Profit: Why

Democracy Needs the Humanities (Princeton 2010).

115 See generally Nussbaum, Not for Profit (cited in note 114).

116 See note 1.

2012] Teaching Patriotism 247


autonomy. We might say that the abstract values of liberty and

individualism were eroticized—connected to things such as my

father’s love and admiration, and the lovely feeling of riding a horse.

This was an excellent starting point for further investigations. So

start with love, but it’s great if from the beginning love can be linked

to good values that can become, later on, a basis for criticizing bad

values.

2. Introduce critical thinking early, and keep teaching it. As I

showed in Not for Profit, there is a lot of research on the teaching of

critical reasoning, and it shows that young children can learn skills of

reasoning with joy, indeed love, if it is presented cleverly and in an

age-appropriate way.117 So the dangers begin to be headed off here.

At first critical thinking can be taught with any content, but at some

point it is good to move it onto the stage of the patriotic narrative

itself, getting children to think about the reasons why the patriots

fought, about the difficult struggle of the Civil War, and so forth. It is

natural to mingle these two parts of the curriculum: thus, when

visiting the Lincoln Memorial, and when deeply moved by Lincoln’s

grief and humility, one might study the “Gettysburg Address” and

ask questions about its argument, and about the reasoning of the two

sides before, during, and after the war.

3. Use positional imagination in a way that includes. Since one of

the big dangers in the misplaced values department is underinclusiveness,

and another is stigmatization and disgust, it is important

to teach patriotism in a way that keeps students actively imagining

the situation of various minorities: slaves and ex-slaves, new

immigrants, religious dissenters (such as Lillian Gobitas, a very nice

story for elementary school), and even acting those roles in

classroom theatricals. When the imagination is drawn to something,

one naturally wants to act it out; but children often shrink from the

difficult roles, and it’s important that they all get a turn to be the

outcast, the stigmatized, Rosa Parks in the back of the bus.

Teachers should connect the struggles over inclusion in

American history to the ongoing efforts of the classroom to confront

issues of stigma and bullying, since every classroom has such issues.

Are there people in the classroom who are experiencing a little bit of

what Rosa Parks suffered? If her treatment was un-American, in the

light of our evolving concept of America, what about the treatment

we mete out to others?

As children come to love an America that really stands for

inclusiveness (reading such lines as “Give me your tired, your poor”

117 See Nussbaum, Not for Profit at 72–77 (cited in note 114).

248 The University of Chicago Law Review [79:215

in Emma Lazarus’s “The New Colossus,”118 they had better ask

disturbing questions about what America is doing about poverty

today, and whether some things about America in the present might

not be un-American in the light of some of the accounts of

patriotism the class has been learning. There will naturally be much

debate about this, and it should continue. Not all the positions taken

will be congenial to all students and parents. (My father threatened

to withdraw me from school, much later, when I came home

defending Franklin D. Roosevelt and the New Deal. He said that I

had been brainwashed by my teachers. But really, I had learned

about dissent and critical argument from Sybil Ludington, with his

strong encouragement, long before I ever met them.)

4. Show the reasons for past wars without demonizing. Since the

beginning of the modern nation, one of the serious reservations

about patriotic sentiment has been that it leads people to demonize

other nations and their people and to charge out unwisely to make

war against them. Johann Gottfried Herder, writing at the end of the

eighteenth century, proposed, in this connection, a “purified

patriotism” that would teach a horror of war and of a “false

statecraft” that would lead to war.119

Here we arrive at one of the most delicate areas of our topic. On

the one hand, one of the purposes of patriotic sentiment is to fortify

people to endure the hardships of war, when they must. So we don’t

want people to think that war is always wrong. Here we must reject

the guidance of Gandhi, who rejected the Second World War, and

suggested reasoning with the Nazis in a nonviolent manner.120 On the

other hand, we do not want children to learn to rush into wars as if

they were occasions for glory rather than bitter struggle. So, learning

about the horrors and pains of war is altogether appropriate, despite

the fact that it is not always popular with parents. The Lincoln

Memorial, like Lincoln’s rhetoric, testifies to the terrible tragedy of

war, and this is a crucial thing to learn early.

It is also appropriate to learn about the pain that one inflicts

upon others. Thus objections to a critical exhibit about Hiroshima

118 Emma Lazarus, The New Colossus, in David Lehman, ed, Oxford Book of American

Poetry 184, 184 (Oxford 2006).

119 Johann Gottfried von Herder, Letters for the Advancement of Humanity, in Michael N.

Forster, ed and trans, Philosophical Writings 374, 404–09 (Cambridge 2002) (arguing that

peace may only be obtained by inculcating in the public certain general emotions toward war

and the nation that otherwise allow for war to result).

120 See, for example, Letter from Mahatma Gandhi to Margarete Spiegel (Nov 15, 1940),

in 79 Collected Works of Mahatma Gandhi Online *383, 383 (GandhiServe Foundation), online

at http://www.gandhiserve.org/cwmg/VOL079.PDF (visited Oct 30, 2011) (“If Hitlerism is to be

destroyed, it will be destroyed through non-violence, and in no other way.”).

2012] Teaching Patriotism 249


and Nagasaki at the Smithsonian Institute in 1994 were misplaced.

(Unfortunately, the concessions made by the museum led to

alterations in the exhibit121 and to uncontroverted statements that

misrepresented the historical record.122) Teachers and students should

debate vigorously in the classroom the case for and against the use of

nuclear weapons, but we must begin by acknowledging the terrible

toll they took. It is all too easy to stigmatize foreign nationals as

subhuman, and to justify war against them in that way. Any wise

policy in the area of war and peace begins from the acknowledgment

that the people on the other side are fully human.

Finally, as the example of Nehru and Gandhi shows, it is

important to emphasize that all the world’s nations share some goals,

such as the eradication of poverty, toward which we can and must

strive together.

5. Teach a love of historical truth, and of the nation as it really is.

One of the problems of patriotism, which can often abet misplaced

values, the stigmatization of minorities, and uncritical homogeneity,

is historical distortion. So one of the most important aspects of

teaching patriotism in the schools is teaching how to evaluate

historical evidence and how to construct, criticize, and defend a

historical narrative. Students need to learn that the past is not selfevident,

that it must be painstakingly put together from materials

that are not self-interpreting. And yet, that not all narratives are

equal, that some are terrible distortions and evasions. Unfortunately,

political groups sometimes now try to capitalize on postmodern

attacks on historical truth to commend their own slipshod and errorridden

tales. India’s Hindu Right has become especially adept at this

practice, both in India and in controversies in the United States over

the teaching of Hindu history.123 So, we should make students alert to

the fact that any historical narrative is created by humans situated

somewhere, often with interested motives. But we must also prevent

them from concluding that anything goes, it’s just your narrative

against mine, and there’s no such thing as what really happened. As

historian Tanika Sarkar said of the attempt by the Hindu Right to

deny the rapes and killings of Muslims in Gujarat in 2002:

There can be no political implication, no resource for struggle, if

we deny the truth claims of these histories of sadism, if

we . . . denigrate the search for true facts as mere positivism, a

121 AP, Smithsonian Alters Plans for Its Exhibit on Hiroshima, NY Times A17 (Aug 30,

1994).

122 See Historians’ Committee for Open Debate on Hiroshima, Historians’ Letter to the

Smithsonian (July 31, 1995), online at http://www.doug-long.com/letter.htm (visited Oct 30, 2011).

123 See Nussbaum, The Clash Within at ch 9 (cited in note 89).

250 The University of Chicago Law Review [79:215

spurious scientism. For the life and death of our political agenda

depend on holding on to the truth claim . . . to that absolute

opposition to their proclamation that they will make and

unmake facts and histories according to the dictates of

conviction. . . . We need, as a bulwark against this, not simply

our story pitted against theirs, but the story of what had

indubitably happened.124

This point is especially urgent. Patriots often dislike reality,

preferring a glorified version of the past and present. They fear that

presenting the nation as it is will undercut love. But really, what they

are saying is that the human heart can’t stand reality, that lovers

can’t stand the real bodies of those they love. Though sometimes

true in sad cases, this is a terrible starting point for the education of a

nation’s children. Indeed, if particular children do show difficulty

loving others once the signs of their bodily reality are manifest,

schools should worry about those children and intervene. The mind

hooked on perfection is destined to despair.

VII. INSTITUTIONAL SUPPORT STRUCTURES

Schools do not exist in a social and political vacuum. Attempts

to teach a patriotism that steers clear of both Scylla and Charybdis

will be much more likely to succeed in societies that surround the

schools with a set of institutional safeguards. Given the unreliability

of majority sentiment, we would be well advised not to trust entirely

to the goodwill of local school boards, or even state legislatures, to

keep good traditions of patriotism going. Law and institutional

structure are essential props to the good in patriotism, and we can

mention three factors that will contribute to our getting the good out

of patriotic education without the bad.

1. Constitutional rights, an independent judiciary. Constitutional

rights are bulwarks for minorities against the panic and excess of

majorities. Because minorities are always at risk from patriotism,

which can often whip up majority sentiment against them, patriotism

needs to be advanced in conjunction with a firm and comprehensive

tradition of constitutional rights protecting all citizens, and an

independent judiciary, detached from public bias and panic, as these

rights’ interpreter.

2. Protections for the rights of immigrants. Patriotism always

risks veering into xenophobia, and xenophobia often takes new

immigrant groups as its targets. In addition to protections for

124 Tanika Sarkar, Semiotics of Terror: Muslim Children and Women in Hindu Rashtra,

38 Econ & Pol Weekly 2872, 2876 (2002).

2012] Teaching Patriotism 251


minorities who already enjoy citizens’ rights, a decent patriotism

needs to be taught in conjunction with firm protections for the rights

of legal immigrants who are not (or not yet) citizens, and rational

and consistent policies and laws concerning illegal immigrants.

3. Freedoms of speech and press. Perhaps the most important

factor of all is the one emphasized by Immanuel Kant in all of his

works about the prospect of a peaceful international community:

strong legal protection of the freedom of speech and dissent, and of

the freedom of the press; more generally, protection of the voices of

intellectuals who play leading roles in shaping a critical public

culture.125 To the extent that a nation succeeds in building such a

culture, to that extent it has in every town and region built-in

safeguards against the excesses of patriotism run amok. Barnette

shows us the importance of the press and its critical freedom to the

relatively happy ending to the Gobitis story of patriotism run amok.

Obviously, patriotism in and of itself is not a good thing, and

very often indeed it is a very bad thing. It can be taught very badly,

and that bad teaching can do great damage. What I have argued,

however, is that a nation that pursues goals that require sacrifice of

self-interest needs to be able to appeal to it, in ways that draw on

symbol and rhetoric, emotional memory and history—as Lincoln,

King, Gandhi, and Nehru all successfully did. If people interested in

relief of poverty, justice for minorities, democracy, and global justice

eschew symbol and rhetoric, fearing all appeals to emotion and

imagination as inherently dangerous and irrational, people with less

appetizing aims will monopolize these forces, to the detriment of

democracy. The emotions can be very bad; but they are an essential

part of human life, including the struggle for justice, so we should try

to imagine how they can become the best that they can be.

125 See, for example, Immanuel Kant, Idea for a Universal History with a Cosmopolitan