n response to some questions and comments on yesterday's post:
The amendment actually prohibits physical desecration of the flag, not flag-burning as such, leaving Congress the leeway to legislate what acts would violate the amendment. I assume burning a flag when it is no longer fit for display would still be acceptable.
Mel Watt of North Carolina tried to restrict the open-ended language of the amendment by adding a proviso that subsequent flag-protection laws remain consistent with the First Amendment.
However, in the past, the issue has pivoted around the question: is flag-burning as a form of protest protected under the First Amendment?
The subtext is what's interesting. Most of the people who commented yesterday seemed to think that there were more important issues for our government to be dealing with or that the entire discussion was a "distraction." Indeed, this should not be an issue: the majority of Americans support the idea of protecting the flag. The measure has passed through the House many times...but only now has a hope of passing because of the conservative balance of the Senate. It's a conservative issue because of the creeping infringements on free speech. After Texas vs. Johnson, the federal government unsuccessfully tried to re-write a content-neutral law that would not unduly prosecute forms of protest.
Is it possible to protect the flag and still preserve the right to use it in free speech? Why DO people care so much?
As a symbol, the flag has a visceral power. In outlawing physical desecration of the flag, the government is reserving the use of that power for itself.
The crusade pushing for the constitutional ban on flag burning rests on two very strong foundations: the tide of popular opinion and basic linguistics. Before the Supreme Court's 1989 Texas vs. Johnson decision to protect the rights of arsonists and over-zealous protesters everywhere, most states, as well as the federal government had flag-protection laws on the books. Here the American people agreed as on few other issues: our flag must stand strong and untouched as a symbol of all that is Great about Our Country.
Saussure would have liked the American people. At least as far as the flag goes, we are content to stand our ground over the basic relationship of signifier and signified, bound neatly together into our national sign and symbol.
The flag waves slowly in the breeze. There it stands: Justice; Freedom; The American Way. The physical cloth and the ethereal concepts join in holy theoretical union to stand for...America. It's been an occasionally bumpy but long-lasting marriage, and much energy has gone into keeping this country whole. Of course the flag is a tempting object to destroy in protest: basic physics tells us that the 200+ years of conservered energy stored in that flag should flare up brilliantly and dramatically.
But as so many after Saussure have argued, it's just not that simple. Beyond all the vague personal associations and dubious meanings the American flag can take on, another signficance must be attached to the flag, the fore-runner of all things big, bold and multi-national about the country we love. Any flag, but especially the American flag serves not only as the symbol of national pride, but as a brand name that flags our soldiers, leaders and policies for our loyal consumers. As a brand name, our product, after 9/11 and Iraq is under considerable pressure right now, and the Bush Administration might do well to hire a crackerjack marketing team to restore its brand health.
Perhaps a consulting team would advise a ban on flag-burning. In its own way, however, burning a flag at least respects and harnesses the full force of the symbol. Not everyone can claim that. Which is why I propose that in addition to banning flag burning, the Congress considers tacking on an provision to the Amendment that also bans the following Top Five Flame-Retardant Ways to Desecrate the Flag:
The Atlanta Adventure: a true story as told to Sarah Laskow
A sudden change in the wind had brought Guy to the Atlanta airport. He had planned to spend a quiet weekend sailing off of the Delaware coast with an old friend. But plans change, and, after a whirlwind weekend with the girlfriend's fam in Minneapolis, Guy found himself, seatbelt securely fastened, waiting in the Atlanta airport for his second plane to take him back home.
He had struck up a conversation with the man sitting next to him. The man, a "tactical security consultant" for SOS Security had just come from Charlotte, NC and was on his way up north for a conference. The two were chatting pleasantly, when, just as the plane was pulling away from the gate, the man jumped out of his seat and started explaining to the nearest stewardess that he was sure he had accidentally left his bag in the airport. He begged to leave the plane and finally the stewardess gives in.
Thirty minutes later, he still wasn't back, and the cabin staff determined that he had decided not to take the flight.
After the November’s election, I boarded the plane for my term abroad in Senegal with relief, excited to take a break from trying to understand my own country and have a go at understand someone else’s. Six months later, I return to Gore Vidal's Something Rotten in Ohio on the front page of The Nation's website. Vidal echoes the political complaints that resounded in December, as I left the country, against Ohio Secretary of State Kenneth Blackwell, only now, behind his refrain, the heavy beat of information backs him up. Vidal points us to Representative John Conyers report, both meticulous and intrinsically limited detailing the election mishaps in Ohio. Reading this collection of horror stories, most of which end in Blackwell denying further information, one image flashes on repeat for me: pumping gas in the middle of rural Pennsylvania on November 3rd, on my way back to Connecticut from Ohio, listening to Kerry's concession speech, watching a friend cry silently in the back seat of my car. The report is available at www.house.gov/conyers or in bookstores under the title What Went Wrong in Ohio.
Bygones? As Frank Rich reminded readers of this Sunday's New York Times, the past reflects the future and vice-versa. The revelation of W. Mark Felt as Deep Throat has set the stage for juicy comparisons of the Bush Administration and the Nixon Era. I had the good fortune of reading Hunter S. Thompson's The Great Shark Hunt recently: his prose rip-roars through the Election of 1972, Nixon vs. McGovern, and chortles at Nixon's downfall. The dire political straights that Thompson rants against somehow come uncannily clear and familiar. The corrupted conservative wasteland that the junkie journalist describes makes you want to get roaring drunk and go to a press conference.
Thompson will tangle up the intracacies of Watergate further, as he sits obsessively watching Nixon tank, but for getting a handle on liberal politics in the 1970s, there's no better ride.
Please remember that Campus Progress' terms of use do not allow promoting or endorsing any particular political party or candidate for office. Posts or comments that do this will be deleted.