A couple of weeks ago, a 49ers quarterback kneeled during the playing of the national anthem. He said, “I am not going to…show pride in a flag for a country that oppresses black people and people of color…” It set off a firestorm of comment without much useful debate. I recently saw a photo on the back of a vehicle of flag-draped caskets in the back of an Air Force cargo aircraft coming back from some far-away place. The caption asked if the “millionaire quarterback” might point out the skin colors of those inside so the “offensive flag could be removed.” Rarely have I felt such disdain. Yet, I embrace the right to exercise political speech on the back of a pickup truck. Alas, the Constitution does not protect us against offense. What it does protect are (here proudly claimed) “deplorable” displays on tailgates and quarterbacks’ decisions on posture during the playing of certain songs.
Not standing during the playing of the national anthem has somehow come to be seen as an act that dishonors veterans or those brave souls represented by a photo of flag-draped caskets. It does not. How could it? Anyone willing to contemplate it for a fraction of a second is immediately confronted with the extreme dissonance it requires to even consider the prospect.
In the run-up to war in Iraq a great ally cautioned the administration about taking military action. France’s diplomats and president were against it sensing what we all now know to be true, the case for war in Iraq as presented did not stand up to scrutiny. Incensed congressmen and women took to the absurd in renaming a common side dish in the capitol cafeteria to “freedom fries.” There was a sense of betrayal after what we had done for France in WWII. Well, here’s the thing about freedom; those who have it are free to exercise it. That, I say with incredulity that I even have to, is the whole point.
One can question Colin Kaepernick’s motives. One can question the premise of his action. One can even question whether how he and now others have framed their argument is a valid statement of concern. A glance at a Charlotte or Tulsa paper might illuminate such a quest, but let us be very clear here. One cannot claim to be a patriot and question his right to do as he pleases when the Star Spangled Banner is played.
Those lying at rest under the Stars and Stripes fought under the premise that the Constitution’s guarantees apply to all citizens. They actually fought not to secure the rights of those in their own country—a steady work in progress for over two centuries now in the oldest and most secure secular democracy in the world. They fought to secure similar rights for a people they hardly even knew in a land half a world away. The U.S. military has done so since it last truly fought an existential threat to secure the union in 1865.
We do not know the race, religion, creed, orientation, or any other descriptor of those who fell in battle in that anonymous photo on the back of a pickup. In a sense that is fitting, because such things are irrelevant in the white-hot cauldron of modern combat. In death, they are all equal under the banner of this nation. If there is one thing to draw from such a photo it is this: we should, each of us, be in life too. At the core, that is all Mr. Kaepernick is saying. In a country whose seminal founding document states “all men are created equal,” what could possibly be more noble—or patriotic—than that?
M. Shane Riza 