The Flags We Fly and Twisting Every Sacred Thing
Justice Alito's wife is in the news for flying conspiratorial flags, and this time, it got to me.
It’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve written. It’s summer, and summer things have disrupted my weekly writing schedule. Thank you for your patience.
Trigger alert (I’m only sort of kidding): This week’s piece is quasi-political in nature. Be forwarned. And yes, this is a bit of a continuation on “The Wrens, This Present Epoch of American Nastiness, and a Unifying Theory of Everything.” If you haven’t read that piece, make sure to check it out.
1.
On a gravel road in Benton County,
pulls to the side so I can photograph a small compound flying a traitorous flag. Two European mounts frame the door—all skull and bone—and the signs flanking the property warn trespassers. I am on a public road, and still, I wonder if the occupant has a scope on me.Some mornings, I pass the old Anderson’s gas station, the place where locals grab sausage biscuits and Monster energy drinks on their way to their daily grind. Some mornings, Papa Cracker's old brown truck is parked out front. I call him Papa Cracker because he’s spray-painted the moniker on the side of his beat-up rig. In the front windshield, he’s propped up a decorative license plate. The decoration: the Confederate battle flag.
Just north of Slaughter Mountain, out toward the lake, one home flies a tiny Kansas City Chiefs Super Bowl flag, and down the road, there’s another flag. It’s a riff on the American flag, but the colors are off. The blue background is white, the white stars are blue. I’ve searched the internet for its meaning, but it’s still a mystery. Is it a flag of civil peace, of libertarians, of civil unrest?
2.
Trump flags. Don’t tread on me flags. Stars and Bars. Red Lives Matter flags. Blue Lives Matter flags. Pride flags. Variations of the Pride flag. Flags on flags on flags, and I think: It must be a good era to be in the flag-making business.
Flags dot the houses of these Ozarks, but it’s not just here. Flags fly everywhere, and over the last two weeks, they’ve been in the news. A Supreme Court Justice’s wife—Matha-Ann Alito—has come under fire for flying two politically motivated flags.
Flag the First: an upsidedown American flag, a symbol meant to identify with those who believe the 2020 election was stolen.
Flag the Second: the Appeal to Heaven flag, a flag associated with Christian Nationalism and the January 6th protestors.
This is no small issue, inasmuch as (a) each flag demonstrates a bent toward particular right-wing conspiracies, and (b) Mrs. Alito ostensibly lives with her husband who either (b)(1) approved of the message sent by the flags or (b)(2) didn’t care enough about the appearance of judicial neutrality to ask his wife to remove the flags. But this piece is not about that. Hang with me.
I’ve not seen an upside-down American flag or the Appeal to Heaven flag flying on my daily drive to the daily grind. In these hills, the more subversive characters opt for straightforward flags and symbols. Just ask Papa Cracker. But Mrs. Alito’s flags and the more-favored flag of my home region send the same message: Revolution is brewing.
I’ve always been fascinated with flags, with the symbology behind them, how the symbology shifts over time, and how they send exclusionary messages. Fly the Blue Lives Matter flag and you tell the world you’re against the Black Lives Matter movement. Fly an upside-down American flag, and you tell the world you’re against Biden and the very-terribly-bad-horrible-baby-eating Deep State. Fly an American flag next to a Trump flag? You get the drift.
I’ve noted this proliferation of flags, particularly the variants of the American iteration. And to be clear, because I’m an attorney, I believe in every human’s right to speak their piece, even if that piece seems misguided, disrespectful, or ignorant. But this week, a new development in the Martha-Ann Alito flag-flying soap opera churned my stomach. In a set of surreptitious recordings by a progressive activist posing as a like-minded sympathizer speaking with Martha Ann Alito, Mrs. Alito said “I want a Sacred Heart of Jesus flag because I have to look across the lagoon at the pride flag for the next month….” What’s more, she outed her dream of flying her own custom-made flag, a white flag with yellow and orange flames that read “Vergogna,” which means “shame” in Italian.
Christ’s sacred heart used as a sign of Pride protest, which is to say used as a political statement? The sacred heart associated with the flames of hell and the word “shame”? All of it’s as bold as it is misguided, and as a practicing Catholic, the comment was a dart. But why?
The devotion to the wounds of Christ— and particularly to the wound in his side—grew in popularity somewhere between the tenth and eleventh century, particularly among the Franciscans. The idea? Christ’s wounds demonstrated his goodness and charity toward humanity, his mortal desire for relationship with all of us. This devotion to the wounds of Christ was not a political statement. It did not grow from protest. It grew from deep spiritual devotion to an undeserved, unentitled, lavish spiritual gift.
3.
As an Observationalist, I observe and observe and observe, and here’s what I’ve observed over my 46 years of living: Humans are nothing if not meaning-making creatures. We use language to make meaning, but sometimes, when the language is a little too hot, we use more subversive means. We take flags, symbols, and devotions, and we twist them to our own meanings. That twisting is a method for saying the thing without saying the thing.
Take, for instance, the Confederate Battle Flag. Don’t we all know what it means when good-ole-boys fly the flag? Do we wonder how they feel about immigrants, minorities, or any non-white person?
Take also the American flag. What was once the symbol of a unified nation, when turned upside down, signals the equal opposite: We are a country divided.
Consider the Appeal to Heaven Flag, a flag that stood as a symbol of the American Revolution in 1775. Now, it signals that the American experiment has failed, that it’s time for revolution once again.
Now take the devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, and the kitschy flag created in its image. What once indicated devotion to Christ’s love for all humanity—his appeal that all might come to him, observe his wounds, and be healed—has become a means for protesting the very humans Christ lived and died for. The symbol of love has been turned into a symbol of hate.
As the years roll on, I watch flags fly and I wonder: When will we strip every sacred thing of meaning? Some days I wonder: Have we already?
While you’re here…
has posted a beautiful piece on grief, loss, trail running, and tree hugging, and it’s worth your time. Make sure to read “Zen and the Art of Stealing Buddhist Books.” is at it again with “The FM.”The Observationalist
In the spring of 2023, I began exploring the concept of visual language by creating a book of photos, poems, and short essays entitled The Observationalist. All proceeds are reinvested in the equipment I need to pursue more ideas like this. You can preview The Observationalist by following this link or clicking on the image below.
Thanks for reading!
Thank you Seth for this insightfully observed essay. So many battle lines are being drawn over too many issues to count. We fly a flag over our side of the battle to galvanize the troops. Our flags are saying "the thing" without saying "the thing" so that plausible deniability about "the thing" always remains available.
This is bad enough. But, to add fuel to the fire, we bring Jesus into the mix claiming He is on our side of the battle line. If He is on our side we necessarily imply that the other side of the battlefield is populated by "you know who".
How do you explain Mercy to someone not steeped in religion (most people) if the image of Mercy is interpreted as a message of hate?
Thanks Seth. I find your Substack fascinating because your world is so very different from mine. Yet our response is the same: 'observe and observe and observe' in order to try to understand.