Reflections on Patriotism and Modern Courage

What does patriotism mean to you? This thought-provoking question came from a philosophy professor during a freshman ethics class. Such prompts often led to discussions that were enlightening enough for a professor to take a breather—perhaps take a quick call. It remains one of my clearest memories from my early days in this country.

One confident business student replied with a straightforward sentiment: “Love and support your country no matter what.” His answer had a ring of assurance, likely shaped by the old-school barbershop haircut he’d gotten in North Carolina, perhaps a place he visited with his father for years. The professor nodded slightly, leaving the door open without endorsing or contesting his viewpoint. I hesitantly raised my hand and said, “I admire your country’s ideals, and I think it’s crucial to strive for them—even if it means opposing the government.” It was 2003, a tense period in the U.S. after 9/11, with the country deeply involved in Operation Iraqi Freedom—a campaign intended to remove supposed weapons of mass destruction from Saddam Hussein, weapons that, we were told, would be used against his own citizens.

“You don’t understand,” the well-groomed MBA student shot back, “you’re a foreigner.” He was correct. I’m Australian, with an Australian mother and a father from Long Island, New York. Having dual citizenship means I hold a deep affection for both places, albeit not simultaneously. While I appreciate both countries, there’s especially something unique about the U.S. It’s often viewed as a grand experiment, a melting pot where individuals can pursue a new, free life without fear of judgment for their gender, race, or beliefs. That’s the ideal, anyway—one that frequently feels out of reach.

During that awkward time in the U.S., France stood firm against pressure to join military actions in Iraq. Soon enough, French fries were officially renamed “freedom fries,” French wine faced boycotts, and French toast awkwardly morphed into “Texas toast.” Country music, which once blasted “fight the man,” transformed to rally around military pride.

Looking back, France was justified in its reluctance. More than two decades later, the goals of Operation Iraqi Freedom have been widely questioned. Iraq didn’t possess the promised weapons of mass destruction. Removing Saddam Hussein, while necessary, didn’t warrant the sacrifice of 4,418 American lives and over 100,000 Iraqi lives for a country that struggles as a deeply flawed democracy today. Ultimately, it feels like all we achieved was senseless loss and a staggering bill of nearly $2 trillion, most of which seems to have lined the pockets of those orchestrating the war.

These thoughts came rushing back as Victor Wembanyama, a rising star, chose to speak up against the actions of ICE in Minneapolis, despite being advised to refrain.

“PR has been an effort, but I’m not going to sit here and be politically correct. I wake up every day and watch the news, and I’m terrified. It’s maddening to think some consider civilian deaths acceptable. I often question my existence while reading the news. Yet, I realize that sharing everything I feel could carry a heavy toll,” he said.

Wembanyama’s words highlight that voicing one’s opinion carries weight, yet it’s tempered by the awareness of potential repercussions. The fear surrounding the simple assertion that “civilians shouldn’t be harmed” reveals how constrained our society feels right now. While some viewed his response as overly emotional, it came on the heels of an alarming incident where Congresswoman Ilhan Omar was attacked during a meeting. That violence likely stemmed from rising hostile sentiments fueled by political narratives.

“Resist and face consequences. Speak out, and we will try to silence you.” That’s how things seem to operate now.

Wembanyama is not the only NBA player making his voice heard, but he stands out. Other players like Cavs’ Donovan Mitchell and Knicks’ Gershon Yabusele have also spoken up. Larry Nance Jr. took a bolder step, donning a protest shirt and openly opposing ICE actions.

While a few NBA stars have bravely expressed their views, many remain silent—caught up in the season or fearful of backlash. LeBron James faced public criticism for speaking on police brutality in 2018, with a well-known media figure telling him to “shut up and dribble.” Such pushback seems to have quieted many voices in the league.

We exist in a bewildering era. The same folks who deemed the 1993 Waco siege as excessive government force now suggest that dissenters should be silenced. It’s a climate where Second Amendment rights appear selectively enforced, and those who refuse to conform are labeled “domestic terrorists.” It’s a striking reality where individuals like Lenny Goode and Alex Preti have gained notoriety.

Some of the brightest talents in the NBA arrived from other countries, enhancing the sport in the U.S. They illustrate what America can be—a diverse community. Yet, those same players are now among the most vocal about their anxieties regarding their adopted homeland. True patriotism isn’t about fear; it’s not merely following a political party blindly. It’s fundamentally about revisiting our nation’s roots—reflecting on the ideals laid down for us and critically assessing how we’ve blurred those lines.

Victor Wembanyama brings a fresh perspective to the U.S. Let’s hope this 22-year-old’s bravery inspires other athletes to voice their concerns about injustice. We need cultural figures to stand alongside the millions pushing back against this unsettling vision of America, for that embodies the spirit of the nation.