It was once a day of unfettered celebration -- a proud recognition of where we, the People had taken this nation: to the highest tier of human achievement. We stood alone at the pinnacle of civilization. A republic forged in freedom, sustained by liberty -- meaning law and order -- and driven forward by entrepreneurship, boldness, and a national spirit of risk and adventure.
This still holds true for many. And yet, a shadow stirs beneath: a creeping undercurrent of anti-nationalism, a slow-drip erosion of American pride. The pejoratives come easy now -- “imperialist,” “colonizer,” “systemically broken.” Why?
It seems that today we must fight inwardly just to speak patriotism aloud. As if love for country needs apology or footnote. As if calling oneself a nationalist -- once a given -- now draws suspicion.
But this country, America, is still a miracle.
Look at our beginning. In an age of monarchs and divine rights, we proclaimed something staggering: that man governs himself. That government derives its power not from bloodlines or crowns, but from the consent of the governed. Then we backed that idea -- with parchment, with principle, and with gunpowder.
“The preservation of the sacred fire of liberty… is finally staked on the experiment entrusted to the hands of the American people.”
-- George Washington, First Inaugural Address, 1789
Washington didn’t merely lead troops -- he stepped aside from power. He could have been king, yet he returned to Mount Vernon, proving that liberty would not be a cloak for tyranny, but the living principle of the American experiment.
That experiment did not end with our founding. It endured trial after trial: civil war, depression, world war, division, and doubt. Yet still we endured.
“That this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”
--Abraham Lincoln, Gettysburg Address, 1863
Lincoln spoke at a battlefield where brothers died to determine whether a nation founded in liberty could survive its own contradictions. He did not flinch from the cost of freedom, nor did he pretend the promise of America had already been fulfilled. But he insisted it was worth preserving.
And even those who were born outside the promise -- who were denied its blessings at birth -- understood its greatness and called the nation to rise to its ideals.
“I am the living witness that liberty, the purest spirit of liberty, is here in this country.”
-- Frederick Douglass, 1894
Douglass, born a slave and self-made as a statesman, did not abandon America; he demanded it become 
more American. He saw clearly that our founding principles were not the problem, but the solution -- that liberty must be universal, not abandoned.
These were not hollow ideas. They became reality. Over less than 250 years, this nation has led the world in invention, productivity, medical advancement, and prosperity. We’ve gone from musket to Mars, from horse-drawn carriage to artificial intelligence, from wilderness to the world’s cultural engine.
More than that, we became the first great nation where the ordinary citizen -- the shopkeeper, the steelworker, the farmer -- could rise to own property, raise a family, build a life, and speak his mind without fear of a midnight knock on the door.
Our middle-class families live better than kings once did. Those we consider “poor” have refrigerators, central air, smartphones, and access to food, medicine, transportation, and freedom of expression -- luxuries denied to much of the world even today.
I write this now, and no one will come to arrest me. In many countries, they would. That fact alone should humble and inspire us.
“Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction.”
– Ronald Reagan, 1967
Reagan’s reminder still echoes: America is not self-sustaining by default. It requires active defense -- not just militarily, but morally. Civically. Culturally. When we let our pride in nation be diluted, mocked, or surrendered, we allow the slow decay of the thing that so many died to protect.
Today, American pride feels under siege -- not from foreign powers, but from within. In classrooms, patriotism is too often replaced by cynicism. In media, America is caricatured only by its flaws. And among elites, the word “nationalism” has been twisted into slander.
But we don’t need to surrender to this downward drift. We don’t need to apologize for loving the very thing that has given us more liberty than any generation in history. We are not perfect -- but we are ours. And our story is not over.
“I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.”
– Martin Luther King Jr., 1963
King’s words endure because they were never a rejection of America but a profound reaffirmation of it. He did not march against the American dream -- he marched into it. He asked the country to live up to its promise. And many times, in blood and courage, we have.
We, the living, are perhaps the most blessed generation in human history. And our duty is not just to enjoy that blessing -- but to preserve it. To teach our children why it matters. To remind ourselves that liberty is not inherited -- it is earned, protected, and passed on.
So celebrate the Fourth -- not just with fireworks, but with pride. Not just with gratitude, but with vigilance. And never let anyone convince you that love of country is something to be ashamed of.
Because when you strip away the noise, the truth still stands: We are Americans. And that still means something.
Rick McDowell is a writer of political philosophy, American history, and essays on the mind. Find other thoughts at http://americanperspective.today