The Paradoxical Anthem: A Personal Reflection on the Fourth of July
We live somewhere between the violent sentimentality and the racial reality of 'independence' day. We can do better.
Every Fourth of July, America erupts in a sea of red, white, and blue, celebrating its independence with fireworks, parades, and patriotic fervor. I love fireworks and parades, but I'm suspicious of patriotism.
For many who observe the holiday, "Independence Day" symbolizes this nation's unparalleled greatness. It is a day to reflect on the godly exceptionalism believed to define the United States. I get it when people revel in stories of heroism and sacrifice while eating overcooked wieners and oversalted meats.
But for African Americans like myself, the Fourth of July is a stark reminder of the paradox we live within—a nation that celebrates freedom while systematically denying it to us. Not all of us are equally free, and some doubt we ever will be without unforeseen, radical changes to the nation the worst patriots command us to love.
If you haven't guessed, I despise forced conformity to viewpoints, especially those surrounding holidays like the Fourth of July. I refuse to sing from someone else's national hymnal or yield to an unwarranted demand that we share the same view about our nation's legacy. Patriotism is an intellectual disease, an emotional shortcut to thinking that produces culty behavior akin to talking in tongues.
Beyond Fireworks: Unmasking the Hypocrisy of Independence Day
White Americans often pressure the rest of us to share their dynamic affection for sanitized history. There is no greater sin to them than being insufficiently reverential about the nation's past. They need more patience for alternative assessments. An example is the reaction to Nikole Hannah-Jones' 1619 Project. Critics tore it a new one not just for the inaccuracies of its historical assertions but for challenging the foundational myth that America's ideals were pure and noble from the outset.
How is that controversial? Shouldn't it be obvious that saying "all men are created equal" while simultaneously beating, raping, torturing, and degrading an entire group of people solely because of their skin color is a moral, intellectual, and philosophical problem that we cannot overcome with violent sentimentality?
Seems obvious to me. And at the same time, I'm not confident in the superiority of my logic. None of us ever should be. As committed as I am to call out the corruption of reactionary flag-waving, others may have equally strong devotion to their divine interpretation of America. I could be wrong. They could be right. Or, as many things in a level-headed life, there could be a truth somewhere near the median. The best I can do is study, learn, and think honestly about the issue. My aim should be to do my part in working through senseless barriers to becoming the nation we all want to be. That is if I want to be a good American.
The goal is peace, not wrath. But I need help. Who do I call? I look to the informants who have significantly contributed to the Black understanding of our trajectory in history and contemporary times. The lineage of Black voices that shapes our strategies to overcome the difference between America's marketing and its lived experience.
"This Fourth of July is Yours, Not Mine": Frederick Douglass and the Black Critique of Freedom
Frederick Douglass, in his scathing speech "What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?" delivered in 1852, laid bare this hypocrisy. He questioned how a nation that declared liberty and justice for all could simultaneously uphold an institution as brutal as slavery. "This Fourth of July is yours, not mine," he stated, reminding us that freedom's anthem rang hollow for enslaved people. His words resonate deeply even today.
In 'The Souls of Black Folk,' W.E.B. Du Bois introduced the concept of "double consciousness"—the Black experience of holding two identities. On the Fourth of July, this duality is especially poignant. Black Americans might celebrate the nation's founding while grappling with the reality of ongoing discrimination. Booker T. Washington might offer a more pragmatic viewpoint, seeing the holiday as a call for self-improvement within Black communities—a strategy for achieving economic empowerment alongside equal rights.
Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" speech powerfully reminds us that even after slavery's abolition, genuine equality remains elusive. The Fourth of July becomes a call to action, a commitment to fulfilling the promises enshrined in the Declaration of Independence. Angela Davis reminds us that liberty cannot be fully realized without dismantling economic and social inequalities. The lavish celebrations of the Fourth of July might ring hollow for those still struggling for necessities and equal opportunity.
Beyond "We've Made Progress": Challenging Myths and Dismantling White Supremacy
On a more soulful note, Mahalia Jackson's music, particularly songs like "Walk in the Light," embody the yearning for liberation and the deep well of resilience within Black communities in the face of oppression. The Fourth of July becomes a celebration of that spirit, a testament to the ongoing quest for justice. Ida B. Wells' meticulous documentation of racial violence serves as a stark counterpoint to romanticized narratives of freedom. Lynchings and racial massacres cast a long shadow, reminding us of the brutal reality faced by many Black Americans. The Fourth of July then becomes a day of reckoning, a demand for true justice and an end to racial terror.
Resilience and Resistance: Black Voices Shaping Freedom's Narrative
Throughout history, Black Americans have actively resisted oppression and found ways to celebrate their forms of freedom. From spirituals and gospel music that carried coded messages of escape and hope to the Harlem Renaissance's explosion of Black culture, literature, and art, African Americans have continually forged paths of resistance and self-affirmation. Juneteenth, celebrating the emancipation of enslaved people in Texas, is one such example of a holiday that embodies Black resilience and the enduring fight for liberation. Isn't it interesting that for many white Americans, Juneteenth is an unworthy competitor for the only official independence day, proving the incurable pettiness of white supremacy?
Black cultural traditions serve as powerful counter-narratives to the dominant historical accounts, reminding us that the struggle for true freedom is ongoing and multifaceted. We are the soul of the nation. We are the marker for how close it comes to its poetry.
Beyond Patriotism: Interdependence and the Pursuit of a Just Society
The problem of race in the United States is not merely about lack of knowledge. The root of the problem lies in white supremacy, a notion that originated from the belief that non-white people are inherently inferior to white people. This ideology emerged from Europe during the era of colonial expansion and has profoundly influenced societal structures and attitudes.
Whitewashing Brutality: Confronting Institutional Racism and Unconscious Bias
Legal segregation ended, sure. But the United States remains a white supremacist society in both material and ideological terms. The persistent racialized gaps in wealth and well-being have remained essentially unchanged since the Civil Rights Movement, highlighting the slow pace of progress.
In the battle between the inescapable Black reality of lowered status and the schmaltzy patriotism that defends the spoils of a long-term white supremacist project, it's hardly a fair fight. One side of this argument controls all government, media, law, education, commerce, and rule-making apparatuses. The opposing side holds a moral argument made by a people who—as the Dred Scott decision famously told us—have "no rights which the white man is bound to respect."
Today, this means white America can remove Black scholarship, history, and literature from common schools, libraries, and Advanced Placement courses, but Black America can in no way return the favor. There is no world in which any Black politician can remove European or European American works from public life in the same way. So, it's no surprise that whites get almost misty-eyed when they think about the greatness of the country built to attend to their impenetrable defense. It's equally unsurprising that African Americans would see it differently.
There is a constant demand for us to acknowledge that "we've made enormous progress." We are often reminded that the American enslavement of Africans was in keeping with the rest of the world and not especially bad. Today, we are mostly equal, and that should mandate an attitude adjustment for Blacks. We are to concede that if our position in society is unequal to whites, it's a byproduct of bad Black behavior, inability to work hard, defer gratification, and follow the rules.
This pressure for us to see the light of freedom is, in itself, a representation of a power imbalance—a demand that we think the way we are told to think by social and political authorities who have the power to set the terms of the debate and manage the negotiation of our place in society. We can argue, but we only win if the authorities allow it.
I refuse to believe that this is the best we can do.
A Day of Reflection: Celebrating Freedom, Mourning Loss, and Recommitting to Progress
As a multiracial person with a multiracial family, I can't help but see divisive issues from a third-person vantage point. As strong as the pull to Black militancy is on me, I recognize that truly overcoming means seeing humanity overall as greater than subsets of it. I believe it when Dr. King says, "In a real sense all life is interrelated. All men are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be, and you can never be what you ought to be until I am what I am."
I believe Paul Wellstone when he says, "We all do better when we all do better."
I believe the Dalai Lama when he tells us, "Interdependence is a fundamental law of nature. Even tiny insects survive by mutual cooperation based on innate recognition of their interconnectedness. It is because our human existence is so dependent on the help of others that our need for love lies at the very foundation of our existence. Therefore, we need a genuine sense of responsibility and a sincere concern for the welfare of others."
We belong together, a belief betrayed by those who weaponize the American flag against those of us focused on the common good.
Addressing our fractured country will take more than happy talk and defensive nationalism. A more perfect union requires more than cultural changes; it demands political action and a fairer distribution of power and resources. This includes challenging the institutionalized and unconscious racism that continues to shape opportunities and outcomes for people of color in a country that has always whitewashed brutality against and indifference about minorities of all stripes.
So, as we overdose on carcinogenic foods for this Fourth of July, let's be mindful of the complex and evolving symbol it represents for people left out of the franchise. It is a day of celebration for hard-fought freedoms, a day of mourning for those lost to violence and oppression, and a day of recommitment to the ongoing pursuit of a good society. The paradox remains, but we can confront it and strive for a Fourth of July that lives up to its ideals for all.
Holy shit, this is so so good. Bravo, Chris!