Reject the Self-Loathing: A Case for Grateful Patriotism

By Daniel Darling

Monday, September 29, 2025

 

In 2025, patriotism is in retreat. According to a June 2025 Gallup poll, just 58 percent of U.S. adults say they are “extremely” (41 percent) or “very” (17 percent) proud to be Americans. This is the lowest level recorded since Gallup began asking the question in 2001.

 

What is causing the decline in patriotism? One common objection is that one can no longer love and be proud of a country because of a disagreement with certain policies or the president. One commentator even vocalized this in a USA Today column. The Gallup poll reflects this, with 36 percent of Democrats expressing patriotic sentiments while 92 percent of Republicans are willing to wave the flag. When your party is out of power, it’s easy to slip into a cynical posture and abandon a love of country.

 

But genuine patriotism isn’t about being enamored with a particular politician at a particular moment. In fact, Teddy Roosevelt insisted that true patriotism was something different:

 

Patriotism means to stand by the country. It does not mean to stand by the president or any public official — unless they stand by the country. It is patriotic to support him so long as he efficiently serves the country. . . . It is unpatriotic not to tell the truth, whether about the president or anyone else.

 

G. K. Chesterton, in an essay defending patriotism, nevertheless rejected the notion that it was a blind allegiance to every policy: “‘My country, right or wrong,’ is something that no patriot would think of saying.”

 

I’d define patriotism similarly: love of country as manifested in loyalty, service, and giving honor to one’s country. A country is not just a government — its citizens living together, bound by laws, shared memory, and culture. True patriotism is about serving the country — offering time, effort, and energy toward its flourishing.

 

I also appreciate Wilfred M. McClay’s framing:

 

Patriotism . . . is an intricate latticework of ideals, sentiments, and overlapping loyalties. Since its founding, America has often been understood as the incarnation of an idea, an abstract and aspirational claim about self-evident truths that apply to all of humanity . . . our shared memories of our nation’s singular triumphs, sacrifices, and sufferings, as well as our unique traditions, culture, and land.

 

Another common objection is that patriotism is a convenient vehicle to whitewash history and motivation to resist needed social change. One critic says, “Patriotism needs marginalization to exist.” But is this true?

 

Consider the words of abolitionist Frederick Douglass, who had escaped from slavery. In his seminal speech, “What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?” he did excoriate his country for the evils of slavery, but he also revered the American Founders and especially their ideals, which he urged his fellow citizens to uphold. He aimed not to destroy the American project but to improve it and called on Americans to live up to the statement in the Declaration of Independence that “all men are created equal.” Abraham Lincoln took the same approach, pointing back to the Declaration in his Gettysburg Address and urging the country to reject slavery. Martin Luther King Jr., a century later, made the same appeal, lauding the Founders and urging the nation to fulfill its “promissory note.”

 

In a country that had been cruelly unjust to them, Douglass, King, and countless other black men and women still saw the idea, the project, the aspiration of America as worth fighting for. They loved a deeply flawed country that didn’t always love them back. Patriotism for them was not a cover for injustice, but a vehicle for activism.

 

The United States is at a critical juncture in its history. We are approaching, as of this writing, the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. Rather than celebrate the fact that this miraculous experiment in human government has lasted this long, we are beset by ritual self-loathing and doomsday predictions of failure.

 

This attitude is myopic and ungrateful. It’s a neurotic gloominess born more of decadence, recency bias, and provincialism than of honest analysis. We are a nation with an exceptionally rich pantheon of heroes, gifts, and virtues — and, of course, a nation that has made profound mistakes. America’s story combines soaring ideals with painful realities. True patriotism does not shy away from that tension — it confronts it, aiming to close the gap between promise and practice.

 

Interestingly, I find that newcomers to America understand this more than those whose history here traces back centuries. I teach at an institution with quite a few immigrants and children of immigrants. A student of mine once shared a story about his parents, Christian refugees from Burma who fled persecution for American shores. He said, “They are the most patriotic people you will ever meet — they love the Fourth of July and love this country.”

 

Why? “Because having lived in a nation without the freedoms Americans take for granted, they see the home we enjoy with fresh eyes.”

 

When freedom is all you’ve known, it can fade into the background. But for those who’ve seen the world without it, America’s blessings remain vivid — and worthy of grateful stewardship. As a Christian, I see this sentiment as obedience to the Scriptural command to “seek the welfare” of the place God has given us as a home (Jeremiah 29).

 

A healthy patriotism seeks the best for the land in which we live. True patriots work to improve the country where possible; they don’t cynically fantasize about her demise. They call America to live up to her promises. It’s the difference between peaceful protests and destructive riots, between political activism and political violence, between prophetic words calling for repentance and cynical rejection of the entire American project. This gratitude grounds us. It keeps us humble about the past and hopeful for the future.

 

America isn’t perfect. But who says a place must be perfect before it’s worthy of love and gratitude? In other areas of our lives, we understand that love often consists of improving the object of love — and that love itself is the motive for this repair. Cancel the self-loathing. Instead, let’s roll up our sleeves and get to the work of renewing this country and passing the blessings of liberty on to the next generation.