Yeah, I’m an Americanophile – Why Aren’t You?

Image - Luke Michael

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“It just angers me”, one of my closest friends explained to me as the topic of America forced its way into our conversation. I believed him: steam had begun pouring out of his ears like an old-fashioned cartoon character consumed by rage. I knew exactly what, or more accurately, who was dominating his thoughts, bringing this vexation to the fore. You probably know too. He’s famous for his love of walls.

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My friend’s anger isn’t unique, especially in Britain, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t misplaced. One man doesn’t define a nation; his time in the limelight will come to an end, and the US’s nay-sayers will find their next villain. Still, I am met with, at best, shock and, at worst, condemnation for my approval of America. Despite my best efforts, my rationalisation continues to perplex. So I’m switching medium, hoping this piece, my ode to America, can somewhat explain to those baffled by pro-Americanism what makes it so compelling to the few non-Yankees who subscribe to it.

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White picket fences and a porch that wraps all the way around the house; a middle-class nuclear family in a powerfully red car. Much-criticised, but extremely well-known, it’s ‘The American Dream’. But let’s just call it ‘The Dream’. Cynics often fixate on its gender traditionalism, heteronormativity, idealised capitalist consumerism, or its supposed ‘death’, but fail to grasp why it’s so captivating. The famous image isn’t a goal to be met, but an aggregation of desires held by a bygone generation, unsuitable for contemporary people in contemporary times. Nevertheless, the message it ought to convey is powerfully timeless: make your fantasy a reality.

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A nation of immigrants, many moved across the world in pursuit of The Dream. Was every one of their dreams the same as your idealised future would be? Of course not. But in a country defined by individualism, that’s the point. Take, for example, Jack Kerouac’s vision in On the Road: a rejection of materialism in favour of the utmost liberty and self-expression. That’s one view of it, no less valid than mine or yours. The Dream isn’t a set end goal, but a message about where you can find the means to achieve it: America, where personal utopia transitions from fiction to fact. That go-getting attitude makes it clear why the US has succeeded globally, and it’s hard to find such unadulterated optimism anything other than powerfully compelling. Another compelling trait of the States is its scale. Not only is America a large country blessed with a vast repertoire of sun-kissed vistas, delicate rolling hills, and snow-covered forests, but it’s also socially diverse. A nation where small Alaskan and Wyoming towns co-exist in the same political unit as the beach abodes of California and Florida, (relative) equals within the State system. Intimate town life and Wall Street’s ordered chaos, packaged together with everything in between; different slices of life bound together under one flag and held together by a distinct layer of cultural cohesion.

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The root of that cohesion is the US’s heavily criticised Constitution. Often cited as outdated, unchangeable, and politically detrimental, these grices land harder than those aimed at The Dream. The Constitution does, indeed, need change. Comprehensive gun regulation and limits on campaign finance would make a strong start. Though to give the Constitution credit, it’s not like countries with uncodified constitutions don’t suffer from anachronisms. The UK House of Lords springs to mind. The pre-eminent majesty of the Constitution, however, is that it lays out exactly what America is, and it’s why defining or imagining America is so easy. ‘Britishness’, for example, has become an increasingly complex and muddled concept. The US Constitution is the fuel to America’s national flame, defining precisely what America is, and that definition is delicately woven throughout its very fabric.

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America, therefore, becomes a spectacular tapestry of landscapes, communities, and principles, sharing core, unifying values. You don’t get national identity quite like that anywhere else in the world. Plus, many of those values have been adopted globally. We’ve all been Americanised; it’s practically guaranteed that you, dear reader, live in a liberal, democratic, free-market society. So, to borrow a phrase from a corporation that is about as American as they come, Coca-Cola, why is it so wrong to desire “the real thing”?

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I particularly enjoyed James Parker’s own (brief) ‘Ode to America’, wherein he romantically reflects on his time in the States. From ripping up carpets to neurosis and the dewy, arranged pavilions of San Francisco, Parker, through his own short-lived anecdotes, brings to the fore points I lack similarly engaging stories to convey. Despite the charming romanticism of his piece, Parker does demand that America heal itself, for he sees it as a nation stricken with illness, and the City on the Hill certainly has its ailments. All too frequent political violence, constitutional warfare (largely the result of the so-called ‘Orange Man’), and soaring economic inequality, to name a few. Yet, America is not dead or dying; it is a troubled nation, just as it has been in the past. Through wars, civil and cold, both at home and abroad, and contentious politics more frequent than they are rare, the US has endured. Many will suggest that the ideal of America and the US itself are two separate things, and I’d second that stance. What I don’t agree with is the extent of separation. America is built on the values that inform its timeless identity, and though the strength of the idealism I espouse varies over time, they have persisted through thick and thin.

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Maybe I’m just a brainwashed Brit, burdened with a false consciousness. Or, perhaps, underneath its turbulent contemporary politics, there’s something deeply compelling about America – a force that has drawn immigrants from across the world to its shores for generations. I might be the next in that long history, but that’s neither here nor there. What is certain, however, is that the US is profoundly unique, shaped by everyday desires and national identity. Flawed but deeply optimistic, America is the home of those who dare to try.