Authors:
Historic Era: Era 10: Contemporary United States (1968 to the present)
Historic Theme:
Subject:
November 1990 | Volume 41, Issue 7
Authors:
Historic Era: Era 10: Contemporary United States (1968 to the present)
Historic Theme:
Subject:
November 1990 | Volume 41, Issue 7
During the last week in June, I listened on cable television to the great House debate on the proposed constitutional amendment to ban “desecration” of the American flag. (In case you’ve forgotten, it got 254 votes in favor to 177 against, 46 short of the required two-thirds majority.) It sent me back to the books to find out how this particular national symbol had been doing all its long years of being unprotected. And one of the very first things I found was a complaint from a Massachusetts representative that what was “talked about as though … a rag, with certain stripes and stars upon it, tied to a stick and called a flag, was a wizard’s wand.”
This was a Yankee conservative named Josiah Quincy speaking, early in the 1800s. He was choleric at the failure of the national government to provide a strong navy, without which the American flag offered no protection to New England’s merchant ships. “You have a piece of bunting upon a staff, and call it a flag,” Quincy expostulated, “but if you have no maritime power to maintain it, you have a name and no reality; you have the shadow without the substance.”
Contrast this distinction between the symbolism and actuality of a “piece of bunting” with the “Code of Etiquette for Display and Use of the U.S. Flag,” which is part of Public Law 94-344. The code prescribes that the flag must never be allowed to touch the ground or the floor and must be flown only in rigidly defined positions and circumstances. If it falls into a condition that makes it “no longer a fitting emblem for display,” it must be “destroyed in a dignified way, preferably”—take note —“by burning in private.”
The code, in short, treats the flag as an object of reverence in itself. It was adopted by a conference of sixty-eight patriotic organizations in 1923, embraced by Congress in a joint resolution in 1942, and embodied in law in 1976. Those dates have meaning. Respect for what the flag represents is an old American story, but veneration of the thing itself, fears of its loss of “sacredness,” and the legislative imposition of flag rituals—these are twentieth-century contrivances, spurred into being by mass immigration, two world wars, and a bicentennial birthday.
At the start of the nation’s existence, there was neither a flag nor an agreement on what one should look like. Only on June 14, 1777—almost a full year after the Declaration of Independence—did the Continental Congress resolve that the flag “of the 13 United States be thirteen stripes, alternate red and white” and that the union or canton (the square in the upper corner) be “thirteen stars, white in a blue field, representing a new constellation.” There was no prescribed shape or arrangement for the stars, nor were there any rules for the display of the American flag. And there’s no historical foundation for the pleasant story that Betsy Ross sewed