MY FLAG, YOUR SHORTS

By Barbara Ehrenreich

You'd think it would be a simple matter to draft a constitutional amendment prohibiting the burning of flags. Flags and fire: two fairly straightforward concepts. And everything was going smoothly with the House Judiciary Committee's deliberations earlier this month until one of the amendment's supporters, Jack Reed, a Rhode Island Democrat, whipped out a Bloomingdale's catalog showing Tommy Hilfiger men's briefs in flag motifs. The ensuing discussion raised profound issues, which deserve our full attention as the amendment proceeds to the floor of the House and thence to the states. Take the question, for example, of whether underwear can be a "flag." According to the New York Times, Reed argued that "if underwear was a flag in one state, it should be a flag in all states."

A citizen may feel entitled to ask how much of our Congress member's time is devoted to the close study of underwear ads. But Reed was trying to make a serious point: that it's not easy to define the word flag. If the members of the committee got out more often, they would know that some of the most patriotic buns and bosoms on our beaches come wrapped in Old Glory or tiny fragments thereof. Are these bits of fabric also flags? Here we have come up against a deep Postmodernist puzzle. If a flag is a symbol, how can a replica of a flag be anything but another flag? The T at the start of this sentence is not a replica of the letter T, but of course the letter T itself. By the same logic, flag patches, flag bikini bras, underpants and decals are all equally flags and potentially entitled to the full protection of the law.

But the problems with "flag" are nothing compared with the problems in defining what exactly is to be prohibited. Perhaps out of a desire not to unfairly single out arsonists--who, like polluters and toxic-waste dumpers, are no doubt represented by a powerful, well-funded lobby--the proposed Amendment says, "The Congress and the States shall have power to prohibit the physical desecration of the flag of the United States." But Representative Jerrold Nadler, a New York Democrat, objected that desecration has religious overtones. Someone may think Congress was trying to sneak by the First amendment and establish a religion-a religion centered on the worship of flags or, depending on how the definition works out, bikinis and underwear. Accordingly, the quick-thinking Reed proposed substituting for desecration the words burning, trampling or rending. Alas, Representative Charles Canady, a Florida Republican, objected that this wording would not "prohibit placing garbage or other offensive substances on the flag." Some residue of good taste prevented the legislators from going on to enumerate all the ways an object can be physically desecrated. If underpants turn out to be flags, for example, even a small lapse of personal hygiene may constitute a punishable offense.

One solution, advocated by Canady, is to let the states define flag and desecration. But this leads to the problem foreseen by Reed: that a man innocently wearing flag-motif briefs may cross a state line only to find himself hoisted up the nearest flagpole and saluted by troops of Boy Scouts. Furthermore, with the rapid devolution of powers from the Federal Government to the states, a state may be tempted to define "the flag" as its own state flag. Since hardly anyone knows what the state flags look like, we would live in constant fear of desecrating one that resembles, say, a paper towel.

The weary patriot may begin to wonder whether a flag-burning amendment is worth the trouble. After all, thousands of flags fly unmolested every day, even without the protection of law. But on this point we have the testimony of the amendment's chief advocate, American Legion Commander William Detweiler: "If burning the flag is wrong, it is wrong no matter how many times it occurs. In fact, we contend it is a problem even if no one ever burns another flag."

Or, as he might have put it to soothe the civil libertarians: An anti-flag-burning amendment is not a problem precisely because no one is much tempted to burn flags. A prohibition on flag burning should rest as lightly on the land as, say, a law forbidding the eating of caterpillars with cream cheese. Representative Nadler's worries about the separation of church and state can similarly be put to rest. It would be one thing if Congress were trying to establish a genuine religion, requiring, for example, that one pray to the President or the Speaker of the House. But all we are being asked is that we treat the flag, whatever "the flag" turns out to be, like an image of the Ineffable One--and who could object to a little harmless idolatry?

There is only one thing, in the end, that ought to worry us. Its proponents say the anti-flag-burning amendment is necessary in order to get us to respect the flag. But our culture is in truly bad shape if we have come to define respecting something as the failure to set it on fire. True, torching something is often a clear sign of disrespect, but the converse does not hold. As they proceed with their weighty deliberations, our Congress members should realize that just because someone does not douse them in kerosene and hold a match to their pants cuffs is no reason to think they are held in respect.