Like many of you, I don’t necessarily recognize my country right now. American society is plagued by almost irreconcilable differences driving a wedge between “we the people.” I’m not sure what postmodernists expected when they preached their gospel of suspicion and declared that no particular perspective could be deemed as authoritative, therefore putting all truth claims, including the absurd, on the same plain. Surely, they were reaching for a higher moral principle than a basic state of anarchy. Surely, this wasn’t the plan. Yet, here we are, lost in a maelstrom of competing individual truths, rejecting every objective value that might unite us. We are still the States of America, but little more.
It is against this backdrop of uncertainty that my small corner of the world has taken up an age-old discussion: what to do with the Mississippi flag and its Confederate reminder. Any time racism rears its ugly head in America, people seem to come back here, to the deepest of the Deep South, to the place that Martin Luther King, Jr. once described as “a desert state, sweltering with the heat of injustice and oppression.” A minimal understanding of Mississippi knows this to be true. A previous generation of Mississippians once sweltered with injustice and were among the guiltiest of oppressors. And though it may be difficult for some to swallow, the Confederate battle flag was ever there, overseeing it, nodding its approval.
There is a canonical line of reasoning that is replayed ad nausea by some Southerners when a conversation broaches this particular subject. The approved responses typically try to draw distinctions between heritage and hate. Or, they allude to some crusade for states’ rights that with considerable effort and explanatory gymnastics can be separated from a desire to safeguard the institution of slavery. The craftier apologists explain how the bars stand for Saint Andrew and that the stars represent the 13 states of the Confederacy united in their Christian fight for liberty. Christian is such an ambiguous term at times in the South that this argument is given a chorus of support from some who sit on pews every Sunday. Liberty must be equally ambiguous as it is applied to an economic system built on the utter denial of liberty. The obvious inconsistencies in this line of reasoning are difficult to ignore.
However, these are the talking points of a previous generation and represent a Mississippi that is slowly fading into history. The battle flag of the Confederacy doesn’t speak for me. As a matter of fact, it is beneath me; its ambitions too near-sighted; its goals too corrupt. It’s possible to be a proud Southerner, drawn to the honor and chivalry that many want this flag to represent. At the same time, it’s problematic to overlook the hatred it has also represented.
Hear me. I am no progressive, though you’ll be inclined to label me so. I despise most of the tenets of progressivism. And, though I empathize with black America and recognize that there are still residual effects of years of true systemic oppression, I am cautious of the scope of the current racial narrative. The Marxist leanings of its most prominent voices and organizations are impossible to ignore. I’ll forever stand with black America in solidarity in the name of justice, but opposed if we must stand for Marxism. The two are not synonymous in any way. Truth cannot be the collateral damage of convincing each other that we are not and don’t want to be racists. Mutually assured destruction will get us no closer to a shared equality.
I can assure you that I am aware of the many nuances in this moment in American politics. However, I still believe even in great confusion the light of right moral action must be shined into the darkness of cultural strife. And I believe America is uniquely suited to do just that.
As a student of history, I certainly don’t subscribe to the notion that America’s founding principles are racist in their nature. On the contrary, the racial conflict that has beset us throughout our history is due precisely to the fact that our foundational creeds are NOT racist in nature. Our principles have forever been higher than our commitment to maintain them. This is why we have struggled. Because our creed demanded it.
Our own principles rightly forced much of our internal conflict upon us: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” The creed that founded us has always been above our own ambitions; before us, confronting us, demanding from us, reminding us when we dishonor it, and subtly drawing us towards it as a ship to the horizon. The fact that the creed has not always been true in practice, even among the men who wrote it, doesn’t even slightly detract from its moral authority. It is what has granted American society any moral authority at all. We’ve fought to make the creed true, even among ourselves.
Taking this thought further, the banners that we choose to represent us don’t necessarily embody who we are as a people. They embody who we wish to be. They point us in the direction of that which we have committed to strive for. Flags are more than just symbols, they are demands. This is why I believe it is historically irresponsible to suggest that the American flag is a symbol of oppression even if there are those who have been oppressed beneath it. The flag and its principles contrasted the oppression. In a very poetic way, it reminded us of our values and demanded our allegiance. Dr. King understood this like few others. In his most famous speech in 1963, he said, “…When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the "unalienable Rights" of "Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness…” King had a way of using the light of American ideals to cast shadows on American failures. It’s one reason that WWII helped spark the Civil Rights movement. How could we liberate the European continent and not liberate our own? The banner that united us also chastened us. It still does.
Under this premise, I appeal to my fellow Mississippians. It’s time that our state flag demanded from us. I don’t appeal to you because “cancel culture” says I must. I appeal to you because history says I must. I’m not asking for a senseless capitulation to satisfy the mob. Nor do I believe every vestige of Southern heritage must be purged and forgotten. No, my appeal to you is a higher calling. Our current banner lacks moral authority to correct and unite us. It doesn’t call us higher. The Confederate flag is not simply a noble reminder of a chivalrous Southern heritage. You cannot gloss over history that way. The Southern States seceded to preserve slavery. It’s not debated among historians. This was their symbol. It embodied their creed. That all men were created unequal and some could be owned as if they were not men. Even after the defeat of the Civil War, the battle flag continued to represent these principles throughout Reconstruction and Jim Crow. When society needed to remind blacks of their implied inferiority, this flag was there, waved in their faces. When Southerners opposed integration, it could not have been prouder. Look at historical photographs. For such a symbol of so-called liberty, it has an ominous connection to hate. As long it remains in our common banner, then our common principles will have no moral authority and will never unite us. You cannot demand that Black America see the Confederate flag in their common banner as a symbol of heritage. What a foolish demand that is. What it means to you on your front porch is one thing, but what it means to “we the people,” all of the people, is something different. We need a symbol that represents a common creed and that demands from every ethnicity underneath it to live up to a mutual and equal standard. This is my appeal. That for the greater good, we embrace unity in diversity over pride in a troublesome Southern heritage.
I know many of you will not agree with me. Some of you will even be angry with me. You will call it a cowardly capitulation to the mob. I can see why you would feel that way. The truth is, since I was a young man, I have always sought for chances to help heal the obvious wrongs of Mississippi’s difficult past. It’s why I still live here. And my deeply conservative views demand that a voice be raised for that which is morally right.
Dear Mississippi, I appeal to you because it’s the right thing to do even though the mob will claim it as a victory. Sometimes to defeat the mob, you must shine the light of righteousness into the darkness.
This is about who we wish to be, not who we have been.
It’s time Mississippi. Change the flag.