A new Gallup poll shows just 58% of Americans say they’re “extremely proud” or “very proud” to be Americans — the lowest level recorded since Gallup first asked this question in January 2001, when 87% self-described as extremely or very proud. That number would bump up to over 90% after the 9/11 terrorist attacks eight months later and stay roughly at that level until 2004, when the tragedy, folly and national shame of the Iraq War became too evident for even the most patriotic Americans to ignore.
The ‘my country, right or wrong’ brand of patriotism never made sense to me.
To be sure, a sizable majority of Americans still says they’re super-proud to be Americans. And Republicans currently poll at 92% as extremely or very proud, having never dropped below 84% (in 2022) during the 24 years of polling available. But just 36% of Democrats and 53% of independents are at least very proud, a sharp drop from 87% and 84%, respectively, in early 2001.
I rarely ask myself questions like “How proud are you to be an American?” but in the spirit of America’s birthday weekend, I’ll give it the old frontier try.
First off, the “my country, right or wrong” brand of patriotism never made sense to me. Why couldn’t I be ashamed of some of America’s immutable sins — centuries of chattel slavery and the ethnic cleansing of Native Americans come to mind — while also feeling a sense of pride in the country’s ability to consistently evolve for the better? Why can’t I be both mortified at the bloody, history-changing stupidity that was George W. Bush’s Iraq War and proud that both of my grandfathers fought the Nazis in World War II?
But I still can’t really get a sense of where I fall on the patriotism spectrum based strictly on historical events. When I think of what makes me uniquely proud to be an American, it’s things like the generally accepted reverence for the Constitution. We don’t do kings. Our government has checks and balances. Bad actors can be removed from office.
I’m proud of America’s tradition of freedom of speech that to this day is considered radical even in much of the “free world.” Our First Amendment protects the right to express so-called offensive speech — be it worthless, rancid hate speech or politically unpopular agitation for civil rights. The freedom to express both poles of thought and everything in between is what makes the First Amendment so radical — and so just.
It also protects the right to freedom of the press, which has been buttressed by Supreme Court rulings that make it very plain that the onus to prove defamation is on the complainant — not the journalist or publisher. That’s how we report on the government and the rich and powerful without being automatically destroyed by said forces.
And I’m proud of how America — though it is often painfully slow to progress — regularly makes massive leaps in tolerance and expanding human rights.
But in July 2025, all those things that make me proud of America are under threat. Worse, they’re under threat from Americans.
President Donald Trump, an unrepentant racist, has helped re-normalize rank bigotry. To cite one of innumerable examples, his close confidant Laura Loomer commented this week on X that the so-called Alligator Alcatraz migrant detention center in the Florida Everglades could provide “at least 65 million meals” to the alligators. (That figure roughly corresponds to the Latino population of the U.S.)








