The Patriot’s Dilemma

  

Statue of Liberty Bicentennial 1976

A friend of mine wrote to me, “I will not be celebrating the Fourth as a patriot. This is sad, and a departure from past years. I feel little regard for what my country has become—a country I once marched off to fight for.”

 

He enlisted in the Marines during the Vietnam War and became a second lieutenant. He wasn't driven by politics. Fresh out of college, he believed serving his country was simply the right thing to do.

 

Fate intervened in my own life. By the time I graduated, I was married and my draft status was changed to 3A; the Vietnam War was still in its infancy.  I opposed the war, but I never sought ways to avoid military service. Timing made the decision for me.

 

Even so, I always thought of myself as patriotic. It was never difficult to separate disagreements with one administration from my affection for the country itself. Governments came and went. America endured and I was proud to be an American, warts and all.

 

That feeling has changed.

 

I'm told I shouldn't let the current administration diminish my patriotism or prevent me from celebrating America's 250th birthday. I understand the sentiment. But to me, this celebration no longer feels like the broad, nonpartisan commemoration envisioned when Congress established America250. Instead, it has become something more closely identified with one political figure and one political movement, the same movement that fomented the events of Jan. 6, 2021  Fairly or unfairly, that has made it difficult for me to participate with the same enthusiasm I once felt.

 

I've done the math. I've been alive for one-third of our nation's history.

 

That's a long time to watch America struggle toward the lofty ideals expressed in the Declaration of Independence and later protected by the Bill of Rights. Progress was never smooth. We stumbled, sometimes badly. McCarthyism stained our politics. Vietnam and Civil Rights divided the country. Watergate shook confidence in government. Yet despite those setbacks, I always believed the overall direction was forward—that each generation expanded liberty a little further than the last.

 

Today, for the first time in my lifetime, I find myself wondering whether that long arc has begun to bend in the opposite direction.

 

Perhaps that explains why I find myself thinking nostalgically about the Bicentennial in 1976. Although we were already living in Connecticut, my thoughts go to New York City and the magnificent Operation Sail. The country was still recovering from Vietnam and Watergate. Gerald Ford occupied the White House. Confidence in government had been badly damaged.

 

Yet I never questioned my patriotism.  And I was thrilled by Operation Sail.

 

I have written before about that remarkable celebration and posted photographs (there are others atthe link not pictured here) that I discovered years later, photographs perhaps taken by my father, who was a professional photographer.

USCGC Eagle and the USS FORRESTAL Operation Sail

 

Among them is this image of the USS Forrestal. Scarred by the tragic flight deck fire the Vietnam War, she nevertheless sailed proudly into New York Harbor for the Tall Ships celebration. Somehow she seemed to embody the country itself but still moving forward.

 

July 4 during those Connecticut years we were usually on our boat with our sons, overlooking the fireworks along the Connecticut shoreline. On very clear nights we could also see them in the distance across the Long Island Sound along the Long Island shore.  Sometimes we’d leave the boat at our marina and take a blanket to the beach for a BBQ with friends and to dreamily watch the fireworks together.   But it was never just about the fireworks. We understood what that day represented.

 

By 2014, my Fourth of July reflections had become more cautionary. President Obama was in office, partisan divisions were deepening, and I worried about growing voter apathy before the midterm elections. Yet I still ended that essay with some optimism:

 

 "The story of our forefathers' struggle to conceive a new nation out of many points of view is what July 4th must be remembered for the next time we, the citizens, go to the polls to vote. E Pluribus Unum! Unless we can find common ground so our legislature works, and we can stop the march toward divisiveness and corporatocracy, July 4th will be nothing more than a fireworks show for the general amusement of a non-enlightened population."

 

Reading those words today, I realize my concerns have deepened rather than disappeared. I worry about the independence of our institutions. I worry about the integrity of future elections. Most of all, I worry that the far right increasingly treats political opponents as mortal enemies. And today that movement enjoys unprecedented power within the federal government.

 

Perhaps that is why this Fourth of July will be quieter for me than most.

 

I won't be attending fireworks or patriotic celebrations beyond spending time with friends. Instead, I'll be thinking about the remarkable experiment begun 250 years ago by men who believed that free people could govern themselves—not perfectly, but honestly, under laws rather than personalities.

 

To me, patriotism has never meant cheering for whoever occupies the White House. It means remaining faithful to the ideals that transcend any president: constitutional government, the rule of law, the peaceful transfer of power, and the conviction that our democracy is always worth defending—even from enemies within.

 

So today and tomorrow I will celebrate those ideals. If patriotism means remaining faithful to those ideals even when your heart is heavy, then the friend with whom I began this essay is, to me, a true patriot.

 

The Beautiful Bill That Isn't

 

Once, it felt like “This land was made for you and me,” as the Woody Guthrie song goes.

Never before have I felt so disenfranchised. America may have always fallen short of being a “perfect union,” but over my lifetime, racial, gender, and economic equality grew, and the “American Dream” became more tangible. That is, until Donald Trump purloined the Republican Party.

Between the Texas flood tragedy and the passage of the “One Big Beautiful Bill (OBBB),” I was hardly in the mood to “celebrate” July 4, as our unalienable rights seem to be dwindling and American institutions are being dismantled, one by one. January 6, 2021 should have put an end to it all, but DJT has proven himself an escape artist extraordinaire, and the beneficiary of extraordinary luck.

I daresay I am not alone in lamenting what we have lost and what we are becoming. As former Treasury Secretary Larry Summers wrote in a recent New York Times Op-Ed, Lawrence Summers: This Law Made Me Ashamed of My Country  Everything that’s wrong seems to coalesce in the OBBB—not only in its substance but in how it will be cynically implemented. The tax “benefits” arrive just in time for the 2026 midterms, while the real pain—cuts to Medicare, food aid, clean energy, student loan programs, affordable housing, and rural hospitals—hits afterward. The political calculation is as cunning as it is cruel.

Until now, I felt our country stood for assimilating generations of immigrants fleeing persecution or simply seeking a better life. (“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,” as Emma Lazarus’ poem on Lady Liberty’s pedestal proclaims.) Now, empathy has vanished—replaced by false narratives portraying undocumented immigrants as the primary source of crime. While some do commit offenses, studies show they do so at lower rates than native-born citizens. Now, with the OBBB’s massive funds for ICE and deportation centers, MAGA lawmakers gleefully cheered, thinking anyone trying to escape “Alligator Alcatraz” would be torn apart by the Everglades wildlife. Reportedly, when the President toured the facility with Governor DeSantis and ICE Barbi Kristi Noem, he supposedly said, “Biden wanted me in here, that son of a bitch.”

The OBBB reallocates resources, shifting funding from social safety nets and clean energy to tax cuts, immigration enforcement, and national defense. But the math doesn’t add up, and the bill is estimated to add more than $3.3 trillion to the national debt over the next decade.

Here’s another reason to feel disenfranchised: While the OBBB was being formulated, what is an ordinary citizen to do? I wrote letters to my Senators, Rick Scott and Ashley Moody, as well as to my representative, Brian Mast. I even called. All are MAGA Republicans, but I felt I had to make my arguments against passing the OBBB, particularly focusing on the unsustainability of the deficit. Except for Brian Mast, I received brief formula responses that extolled how hard they were working for Floridians and how much they “appreciated” my views.

Representative Brian Mast did not reply until after the OBBB was signed into law. His was a detailed (but formula) response which is below in a four-part screenshot.

He employed classic Gish Gallop tactics: a flood of loosely connected talking points, misleading statistics, and emotionally appealing claims, all designed to overwhelm rather than address the fiscal irresponsibility and unsustainable deficit implications of the OBBB. I randomly checked one of the many footnotes; it was cherry-picked to substantiate a point he made, but ignored what the same footnote said about the whole, much of it negative. As I lack the time and expertise to read this 1,000-page bill, in full disclosure, I requested the assistance of AI, asking it to turn to public data and nonpartisan fiscal analysis. This is what that query revealed:

Claim: “This bill secures the border, reins in wasteful spending, and reignites economic growth.”
Reality: This is a vague and unsubstantiated assertion. The bill’s core function is massive tax reduction, not meaningful deficit reduction or targeted infrastructure investment.

Claim: “Extends the 2017 tax cuts that unleashed our economy.”
Reality: The 2017 tax cuts provided short-term growth but not enough to offset revenue loss. The national debt increased by over $2 trillion post-enactment, even before COVID.

Claim: “Across every income level, Americans got a break…”
Reality: While marginal tax rates decreased, the effective tax relief was minimal and temporary for most. The wealthy received permanent, far larger benefits.

Claim: “Increases the child tax credit from $2,000 to $2,200.”
Reality: This $200 increase does not compare to the temporary 2021 expansion that lifted millions out of poverty. Many low-income families remain excluded due to refundability limits.

Claim: “Cuts taxes on tips, overtime, and Social Security.”
Reality: These cuts offer modest benefits and are not offset. Cutting Social Security taxes may actually weaken the trust fund’s solvency over time.

Claim: “Fully funds Trump’s border wall… hires more border patrol… empowers Coast Guard.”
Reality: Border wall funding is a separate issue and cannot justify multi-trillion-dollar tax cuts. These provisions serve as emotional appeals, not fiscal justification.

Claim: “Increases Social Security payments by creating a $6,000 tax deduction.”
Reality: This is misleading. It doesn’t increase benefit payments—just allows some recipients to reduce taxable income, with limited real impact.

Claim: “Strengthens Medicaid by eliminating fraud and abuse.”
Reality: Fraud should be addressed, but even perfect fraud elimination does not offset the massive cost of the tax cuts. This is a political talking point, not a fiscal plan.

Claim: “Work requirements apply only to able-bodied adults without dependents.”
Reality: These requirements often create administrative burdens that remove eligible people. The cost savings are limited, and the societal harms can be significant. The bill's changes to work requirements and funding could result in nearly 12 million people losing health coverage.

Claim: “This bill empowers individuals to live the American Dream.”
Reality: The bill’s structure overwhelmingly favors the wealthy and deepens the deficit. Real empowerment comes from opportunity, fairness, and sustainability—not debt-financed tax cuts.
 

Note: This analysis and rebuttal were drafted with the assistance of ChatGPT, a language model developed by Open AI, to help ensure clarity, factual grounding, and accessibility.  The conclusions drawn are my own.    

Looking ahead, I fear the OBBB will cause massive dislocations in our society: deepening inequality, increasing cruelty toward law-abiding, tax-paying migrants, and continuing the decimation of core American institutions—health, education, and justice. Even more concerning, it undermines the very idea of America as a nation others can trust. The long-term economic, political, and social consequences are staggering—and potentially irreversible.