Essay No. 4: Police, Patriotism, Polarization, and Politics
“The land of the free and the home of the brave.” It was in 1814 that Francis Scott Key wrote his poem, which would later be adopted as the National Anthem. A celebration of everything America. A poem to commemorate the beauty of the United States, to help us exuberate national pride. The National Anthem wasn’t alone in that regard. Later in the 19th century, one Francis Bellamy would write what we recognize today as the Pledge of Allegiance. It would seem Bellamy was of the school of thought America, in the late 1800’s, was a nation with liberty and justice for all. He certainly gets brownie points for his idealism. He wrote the pledge 20+ years after the Emancipation Proclamation was signed. He also lived in NY though, probably somewhat removed from the new institution of slavery that was emerging during Southern Reconstruction: Convict Leasing and Black Codes. Blacks were criminalized through, somewhat arbitrary, laws called Black Codes. Those laws, inevitably, would be broken and they’d be thrown in prison. Following that, they’d be leased out to corporations that needed cheap labor given the destitute conditions in the South following the Civil War.
The infrastructure of the South was devastated… and everything needed to be rebuilt.
And it would be.
By convicts.
And by convicts, I mean black people.
And just like that, slavery showed its head again.
In claiming “liberty and justice for all”, it isn’t exactly clear to me if Bellamy was insulated to all of this, being in NY, indifferent to it, or just plain idealistic (let’s just say the latter). Francis Scott Key, on the other hand, owned slaves when he authored a National Anthem that declared America the land of the free, so I suppose he doesn’t get much of a pass on that one.
Because of America’s unique history, there are these unique and interesting moments where patriotism and race relations intersect (sometimes collide). Malcolm X comes to mind. He wasn’t particularly hopeful about the plight of blacks in America. He went as far as to say we should have our own societies, our own cities, and our own civic leaders.
That’s not patriotic.
And then there was Muhammad Ali. He refused to fight in a war and defend a country where he was explicitly treated as a second-class citizen.
That’s not patriotic.
In the 1968 Summer Olympics in Mexico City, we had Tommie Smith and John Carlos with their iconic Black Power salute, while they’re standing on the podium and the American National Anthem is playing.
That’s certainly not patriotic. It made for a dope picture though.
As for Colin Kaepernick, you already know that story. The man won’t stand for the National Anthem, deferring to take a knee instead, to protest police brutality and race relations in America.
Patriotic? Probably not.
Here’s the bridge though: today, more than ever before, I can’t help but feel that patriotism, or nationalism, is a political statement of sorts. Sounds ridiculous saying that, but that doesn’t make it any less true.
I grew up in Georgia. Seeing F250’s fly by me on the road with a confederate flag on the back wasn’t unusual. It was pretty standard, actually. Provided the social climate was different back then… this was late 90’s, to mid 2000’s or so. Somehow though, being back in the south in 2019, seeing an F250 pickup truck with a big American flag on the back is somehow more of a political statement than the confederate flag was back in the 90’s. It’s just a flag… a flag of the country where I live… America. It’s the AMERICAN flag. In theory, it really shouldn’t be that big a deal, but somehow, in today’s climate, patriotism is a political statement of sorts. If you disagree, just ask Colin Kaepernick. If you disagree, talk to Trump about what he thinks about the NFL protest. If you disagree, talk to the Golden State Warriors, who declined an invitation to visit the White House. If you disagree, ask Dylan Roof how he thought he was improving America when he went to shoot up that church in 2015. If you disagree, ask the next 3 black people you see what they think it means when they hear the president say, “Make America Great Again”. For better or for worse, whether you or I like it or not, in 2019, patriotism IS a political statement. It’s difficult to understand how we got here.
We could say something very similar about the police, you know. A few years ago, if I saw a car with a bumper sticker that said, “support our police.”, I wouldn’t even think twice about it. But not in 2019. I mean, the police have been in the middle of so many stories concerning protest/civil unrest, how could you say anything otherwise? Black men continue to be shot. Mobs ensue. People are beaten/arrested and property is destroyed. And the media reminds us of the rapidly deteriorating relationship between institutionalized authority in America and communities of color, perhaps especially the black community (I want to be clear, I DO support our police, but I’m also in support of police reform. They’re not mutually exclusive).
Here’s what makes the conversation difficult. Say what you will about the police, but the police are a legitimized institution. I know that because if you came home, and none of your stuff was there, you would call the police. You’re not thinking about police militarization, or police brutality, and all that other stuff. No, you would call the police. They’re a legitimized institution. That’s not the case everywhere. I’m Nigerian. There are lots of situations in Nigeria where you can’t trust figures of authority, police or otherwise, as a result of corruption. Sometimes illegal stuff goes down in Nigeria, and you don’t want to call the police… lowkey, they may have colluded with a criminal, or a criminal organization, to clean out your house before you got there. What the heck do you do in that situation?
That’s not the case in America. Issues aside, the law enforcement is a very important part of industrialized, modern states, the US included. What is America without law enforcement? How do you bring criticisms against an otherwise ubiquitous, legitimized institution?
Law enforcement isn’t the only legitimized institution we could study here though. We could make similar criticisms of the legal system. Again, one of the things that separates a modern, industrialized state from its less developed counterparts is a functional legal system. Say what you will, but one of the reasons people get sued as much as they do in America is because people, otherwise, have an underlying faith in the legal system. In the absence of that, nobody would ever get sued for anything. It’s also one of the reasons that people, in general, tend to observe the law. Because when you don’t, you’re held accountable in a court of law. The legal system is both ubiquitous and legitimized. We can say the same for the US government. Sure, we can be critical of it (there are lots of things it can do better), but that doesn’t make the US government illegitimate… if you felt it was illegitimate, participating in the democratic process at all would probably be ill advised, perhaps even a waste of time (indeed, there’s a minority of people who elect not to vote for this very reason)… but in voting, there is some level of expectation in the government, even if it is a low bar. The government is both ubiquitous and legitimate.
The same is true for the institution of law enforcement.
This brings us back to our original question. How do you bring criticisms against ubiquitous, legitimized institutions? I mean, at the risk of tearing the social fabric of reality, you can’t (not without great difficulty). To undermine these institutions is to flip society on its head. To reject truths that are shared among millions of Americans, over centuries of American history.
“Yo, you’re trying to go head to head with American law enforcement? Good luck!”
Well, yeah, because it looks like we police Americans of color differently than we do other types of Americans. Beyond that, as a nation, we seem pretty tolerant of fatal casualties in apprehending black suspects (for nonviolent crimes, I should add).
“Yo, you’re trying to go head to head with the United States legal system? Good luck!”
Well, yeah, because the legal system has discriminated against people of color in the form of longer sentences for decades… and that’s not a new thing. Heck, this overt discrimination dates as far back as the late 19th century, when blacks were criminalized for unemployment and vagrancy following the Civil War, and they were too poor to pay their bail, so they stayed in prison.
“Yo, you’re trying to go head to head with the US government? Good luck!”
I mean, we’re just a few decades removed from a federal investigation of a Civil Rights leader that wanted to unite people of all races to come together and protest equal rights for all Americans.
Tell me again why you feel these institutions are infallible? That level of unwavering faith in these institutions just seems… questionable.
Don’t get me wrong. The world will never be perfect. In fact, I believe the imperfections of this world are intended to create a deeper yearning in us for heaven. Even so, it still baffles me how people are unwillingly to entertain even the slightest criticisms of how these institutions may fall short. I totally get it. It’s really scary to think of an America where you can’t trust the legal system, law enforcement system, or even the broader government as a whole. That’s not unlike the reality that some people of color feel they deal with everyday though. Can you blame them?
As diverse as America is, it doesn’t have the best history with race relations. And we’re not just talking about slavery, guys. It’s the stuff before and after, too.
Differing views of these institutions creates polarization, among other things. That’s consistent with an emerging trend in American society though. Indeed, America is home to a largely heterogenous group of people, so different views isn’t new, but it would seem that the trend of the last 15 years or so has been views that are diametrically opposed. There are people who think the easiest way for people of color to avoid run ins with police is by getting an education and abiding by the law of the land, and there are other people who believe you can do everything right and you’re still disproportionately likely to draw attention from law enforcement officials, if for no other reason than the color of your skin and racial profiling. There are people who believe the state and federal courts distribute justice based exclusively on the facts of the case, and there are people who believe that there are moments when racial biases taint how our courts operate, even to the extent that people of color are statistically more likely to receive a longer sentence for committing the same crime as their white counterparts. There are people who think racism came to an end in 1967, with the passing of the Civil Rights Act, and there are people who think systemic racism is still central to American society and we need open dialogue to understand and expose it.
There are people who believe Black Lives Matter, and there are people who believe All Lives Matter (I would hope you know these are both contextualized statements; of course All Lives Matter, but that’s not actually what that statement means). There are people who believe that facts are facts (like the president’s turnover rate is the highest of any president over the past several decades), and there are people who believe there’s such a thing as ‘alternative facts’ (like Trump’s inauguration crowd was the biggest in American history). There are people who believe we should Make America Great Again, and there are other people who believe America was never great, or if it was great, it was only great for some people (ie. people who weren’t slaves or oppressed in the form of Jim Crow). There are people who believe Colin Kaepernick should just shut up and play football, and there are people who believe he should keep speaking up, because this is about far more than a flag, a national anthem, or just football.
You know what all of these things have in common? These are all controversies surrounding otherwise ubiquitous, legitimized American institutions.
Law enforcement.
The legal system.
The American government, including but not limited to the President.
Patriotism.
Honest and reliable news (as a caveat, the news has been below average for awhile, although I do think this past election cycle illustrated just how bad it is).
I’ll return to my earlier question: how do you bring criticism against a ubiquitous, legitimate institution? At the risk of ripping the social fabric of reality for millions of Americans, you can’t (not without great difficulty).
The President is particularly interesting. You know, when I was developing the concept for this blog in summer 2017, I told myself I wouldn’t hit on politics. I don’t have any qualms with politics, per se. Rather, I just found it somewhat tangential to what I wanted to focus on in the blog (Race, Higher Education, and Spirituality). But the reality is this: it’s difficult to talk about what it means to be a black man in America today without mentioning politics, particularly a politician like Donald Trump. I really can’t stress this enough: I don’t actually care that much about your political party or who you vote for. Democrat, Republican, Libertarian, Green, whatever. Be communist for all I care. Like I said before, all of these fall short, and I think the imperfections of all of these ideologies is supposed to create a deeper yearning for our perfect king, Christ Jesus, and his inaugurated Kingdom. To be clear, heaven is not a democracy. God has a plan and we’re sticking to it. In the interim, though, how you vote is between you, God, and whoever you chose to vote for.
Still, I’ll be transparent in saying I’m not a fan of Trump. *Shrugs*
This isn’t about Trump being white and me being black. Indeed, every president in American history, barring 44, has been white. Certainly, there’s nothing out of the ordinary about that. This isn’t about Trump being Republican. Indeed, there have been hundreds of thousands of republican politicians throughout the course of American history. There’s nothing unique, special, or particularly interesting about Trump being republican or white.
There is something unique, special, and interesting about having a President that isn’t Presidential. By that, I mean a president that, by most accounts, otherwise does not carry himself like a President.
Bragging about sexual assault. Mocking disabled reporters. An uncanny knack for sharing false information. The lack of tact, evidenced by the comments he makes about Hispanics, Muslims, and blacks. The lack of maturity, evidenced by his ridiculous twitter rants. Heck, you have to be some narcissist to say you can go to the middle of Manhattan, shoot somebody, and maintain your standings in the polls (his thoughts, not mine). And some penchant for controversy, picking fights with Miss America, Colin Kaepernick, and others. Nevertheless, he was elected. Call me cynical, but I don’t think any of this would have worked for Obama. He had to be presidential in every way to make a bid at the White House.
For Donald Trump to run for President, he had to be loud, rich, and white (I think him being a man was very important, too).
September 2016…
Everywhere I went that year, Japan, Brazil, Thailand, and Singapore, somehow, the presidential election, particularly Trump, managed to come up. I hung out all day with a brother in Christ in Singapore while I was there, and we talked a bit about the election.
November 2016…
I went to sleep Tuesday, November 8th with Trump leading Hillary in the polls. I woke November 9th to a text from that brother at 5:33 AM. There’s a twelve-hour time difference, so he was still out and about, presumably. His text: “Just want to offer my condolences to you. Regarding your new President elect.”
A google search confirmed what he alluded to: Trump was the president elect, and for that, he wanted to extend his condolences.
Say what you will about Barack Obama, or any of his democrat predecessors (Bill Clinton, Jimmy Carter, etc.), but I would venture to say that nobody in Singapore, Thailand, Brazil, or Japan would have sent condolences if they were elected. In the defense of the Republican party, I don’t think anyone would send their condolences if George Bush (Jr. or Sr.), Ronald Reagan, Richard Nixon, or any of their Republican predecessors were elected, either.
Donald Trump is a different kind of President though. When he won the election, this gentlemen in Singapore felt the need to extend his condolences.
That’s a moment I’ll remember for the rest of my life. Without a question. People remember watching Kanye’s video where he said, “George Bush doesn’t care about black people.” People remember when Lebron announced he was taking his talents to South Beach. People remember all of these iconic moments, partly because they’re funny, but also because they change the game (no pun intended). Without a doubt, the election of Donald Trump revolutionized American politics (we may disagree on whether that’s for better or worse, but I think we should all agree it’s a game changer). I will always remember that Donald Trump’s term, for me, started with a text at 5:33 AM from a gentleman I met in Singapore, wanting to extend his condolences on the President elect.
Donald Trump is the face of America. My qualm is that I don’t feel our President embodies (key) American values. Integrity. Respectfulness. Consideration. Empathy. Who knows, maybe these aren’t American values… it’s certainly possible that I’m the one who’s had it wrong all this time. This is the guy we chose, after all.
Anyway, just some random thoughts. I’m already over 2500 words. I’m out.
Essay No 4.: Police, Patriotism, Polarization, and Politics
Nnamdi