Aug 30, 2025 When language dies, nations follow
soon after As political terms lose all meaning and elite
contempt for citizens grows, the fundamental question remains whether
America can restore the civic virtue that once made it worthy of
love Brian D. O’Leary
Edmund Burke’s England was indeed lovely, and his wisdom about our
capacity for love of country seems cruelly prophetic today. When the
Anglo-Irish statesman penned
Reflections on the Revolution in
France, he understood that a nation’s characterits “distinct
system of manners” must undergird any lasting affection for the
homeland. Yet here we stand, citizens of a republic whose vast beauty
cannot disguise its withered soul.
The modern American condition is most clearly revealed in our degraded
political vocabulary. When every political disagreement becomes
“fascist,” for example, we witness not merely semantic inflation but the
collapse of serious discourse itself.
Consider the scholarly consensus: Stanley Payne, the foremost authority
on European fascism, observed in his seminal 1980 work,
Fascism: Comparison and
Definition, that “fascism is probably the vaguest of contemporary
political terms”. Ernst Nolte developed his “fascist minimum”
antimarxism, antiliberalism, anticonservatism, the leadership principle,
a party army, and totalitarian aims.
Paul Gottfried, editor of Chronicles, notes that fascism “now
stands for a host of iniquities that progressives, multiculturists, and
libertarians all oppose, even if they offer no single, coherent account
of what they’re condemning.”
The absurdity reaches its apex when Hollywood scribes have baseball
strikeouts declared “fascist,” like Crash Davis did in Bull
Durham.
What about the black-clad urban vandals calling themselves “Antifa”
torching American cities while claiming to fight fascism? These costumed
revolutionaries, responsible for billions in property damage, have
transformed anti-fascism into a performance of adolescent
rebellion.
As former soccer star Alexi Lalas observed, this “strange self-loathing
of country” manifests across cultural sectorsmusic, fashion,
politicswherever Americans have learned to despise the civilization that
shelters them.
The weaponization of “fascist” as a political cudgel reached its nadir
during the Dobbs decision, when returning abortion law to the
statesthe very essence of federalismwas branded authoritarian. Here we
witness the inversion Burke warned against: legitimate constitutional
processes become tyrannical while actual lawlessness masquerades as
resistance.
This linguistic corruption serves a deeper purpose within what Michael
Rechtenwald calls the “welfare-warfare state.” Writing in
Chronicles, the former NYU professor and 2024 Libertarian
presidential candidate identified the vicious cycle that sustains our
national decline:
Social welfare only increases that which it putatively aims to eradicate:
poverty, illness, homelessness, and so on. This is both logically
deducible and empirically verifiable. Meanwhile, social welfare feeds
state power and enables its warfare by placating those it disempowers,
both the payers and the payees of the state’s pretended
largesse.
The political class requires this manufactured crisis of language because
it obscures their fundamental betrayal of the common good. When a failed
presidential candidate branded half the electorate a “basket of
deplorables” calling them “racist, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic, and
Islamophobic” before labeling them “irredeemable” bigots, she revealed
the contempt our ruling class holds for ordinary Americans.
This was no gaffe but calculated cruelty, repeated across multiple venues
as a deliberate strategy to dehumanize political opposition.
The more profound tragedy lies not in the elite’s hatredthat was always
predictablebut in the response it provokes. Too many Americans have
internalized this contempt, becoming active participants in their own
cultural demolition. They mistake submission to fashionable causes for
moral sophistication, trading their birthright for the fleeting approval
of those who despise them.
Yet Burke’s insight cuts both ways. If character corruption makes love of
country impossible, then character restoration becomes the prerequisite
for national renewal. This requires what Rechtenwald calls “principled
opposition” the courage to reject the welfare-warfare state’s seductions
and reclaim the habits of self-governance that once made America
lovely.
The path forward demands what previous generations called civic virtue:
the willingness to shoulder responsibility for our communities rather
than outsourcing our duties to distant bureaucracies. It means choosing
the difficult work of local engagement over the easy pleasure of national
outrage.
Most importantly, it requires recognizing that the corruption of our
public language reflects the corruption of our private characterand that
both can be restored by citizens willing to speak truth in their own
neighborhoods.
Burke understood that civilizations die from within long before external
enemies deliver the fatal blow. There is a stark choice remaining:
restore the loveliness that merits love, or watch the country become
unworthy of either affection or its children’s inheritance.