Over at Vox Nova Henry Karison has a question :
Given that the United States, as a nation, has been actively involved with many intrinsic evils (unjust war, torture, the promotion of abortion, et. al), is it appropriate for a Catholic University to fly the American flag? Does that act itself give honor to a nation which supports such intrinsic evils, thereby indicating some sort of acceptance of them?
Plainly, this is an implicit comparison with Notre Dame’s invitation of President Obama to speak at this year’s commencement and to receive an honorary law degree. Many may find the comparison too outrageous to respond to, but explaining the difference between these two cases may clarify and refine the argument against Notre Dame’s decision.
The most ordinary meaning of flying a national flag is proclaiming allegiance to or support of a polity. This does imply a sort of “honor,” since you presumably think the polity worthy of such a commitment. But because polities are not persons, ethical terms are always analogical when applied to them. Strictly speaking, the United States does nothing at all. Only particular persons and groups of persons with authority within the United States have agency, and they often act at cross purposes to one another, both diachronically and synchronically.
Because of this, polities (and associations more generally) have lower standards to meet. In deciding whether to associate yourself with (and thereby implicitly honor) any group, you must judge whether the dominant spirit of its corporate decisions is good or bad. This is easier if the association has a clearly defined mission. It is obvious why a Catholic university should not fly a Planned Parenthood flag and why it is permitted to fly a Missionaries of Charity flag. Arguably, the United States of America is not so loathsome in its founding objectives and has not been so consistently and comprehensively wicked in its acts that no Catholic institution could give it honor.
Unlike polities, persons do think, act, and take positions for which they are responsible. The United States does not and can not reject abortion in the sense that Richard John Neuhaus did, nor accept abortion in the sense that Barack Obama does.
When an institution honors a person, especially in a context that puts a spotlight on its fundamental identity, it seems obvious that the person should, at the very least, not be hostile to any of the institution’s deepest commitments. When institutional identity is relevant, even the strongest claims of merit must be relativized. Even if Richard Dawkins were one of the great biologists of the twentieth century, it would be strange for Wheaton College’s department of biology to endow a chair in his name. One might think Wheaton had abandoned its Christian identity or had somehow crafted a heterodox version of Christianity compatible with militant atheism.
Similarly, when a Catholic university, at the central event of its communal life, honors a public enemy of the unborn, it suggests either that it is not serious about being Catholic or (falsely and scandalously) that opposition to abortion is not an important part of what it means to be Catholic.
