I drive by a house on my work to work a lot lately. It’s a nice house on a nice plot of land. It’s around a farm, so it’s possible these people farm the land, not sure.
In the front yard of the home, they proudly fly their Confederate Flag.
I’m a staunch proponent of free speech. And I fully support that home owners right to fly what ever flag they want to fly.
And yet, I’m deeply offended by it.
So I looked up it’s history.
The Confederate Flag is not an official flag of the Souther States that succeeded the United States, it was developed for the battlefield so that wouldn’t be confused with Union Flags, you know, The United States of America flag.
It was first widely seen with the Army of Northern Virginia under Robert E Lee.
And after the war the flag mostly disappeared from public use after 1865.
It didn’t make it’s revival until the mid 1900s and appeared at football games, many civil war observances and in pop culture.
But then, as it gained in it’s rising popularity, some Southern States began raising it over state capitol buildings.
It was then embraced by various group opposed to the Civil Rights movement, including the KKK and White Citizens’ Councils. The flag aligned itself with resistance to desegregation and racial equality.
Some see it as a symbol of Southern heritage and others might see it as a memorial to ancestors who fought for the Confederacy.
Others see it as a symbol of racism, white supremacy and slavery, a banner used to oppose civil rights. It’s most recent high profile use has been associated with hate groups and racist violence.
The Confederate Flag most people recognize today was not the Confederacy’s national flag, it was the battle flag. It was not created by the states to recognize themselves as a collection of states banded together, no, it was created for battle, battles that had already been fought and people had already been killed.
The Confederate Flag’s evolution went from it’s beginning as a battlefield marker in the 1860s, to a symbol of segregation resistance in the mid-1900s and today, being a controversial emblem tied to debates about racism, heritage and it’s struggle with slavery.
The Confederate States of America existed for roughly four years — about 1,458 days. That’s not exactly the resume of an “eternal heritage.” That’s the expiration date of a tub of hummus you forgot in the back of the fridge. We’re talking about a failed breakup from the United States that didn’t even last as long as a typical high school marching band career. And yet, some folks still talk about it like it was the Roman Empire.
Spoiler Alert: it was not.
To put this “epic legacy” into perspective, let’s compare it to some real titans of endurance: discontinued fast-food items, bad TV decisions, and consumer fads. New Coke, one of the biggest marketing flops ever created, still beat the Confederacy by two full years. The Pet Rock — for those keeping score — was a chunk of landscaping you paid $3.95 for, and it still held its market better than an entire secessionist government. And the McRib? That mystery-meat sandwich held the throne from 1981 to 1985. A barbecue-flavored meat rectangle widely ridiculed and scoffed at had more staying power.
And then there’s pop culture: Welcome Back, Kotter lasted longer. Entire internet arguments have lasted longer. Y2K panic leftovers lasted longer. Tom Brady’s “definitely retiring this time” lasted longer.
Honestly, half of us have socks in the laundry timeline longer than the Confederacy. At this point, its most enduring quality is the merch — and that’s just because bumper stickers don’t have an off switch.
Meanwhile, historically speaking, the Confederacy didn’t even outlast the Allied occupation of Japan, which ran seven years after World War II. Prohibition was thirteen. The Great Depression was ten. Even The Walking Dead lumbered through eleven seasons, proving once and for all: zombies had more structural integrity.
So the next time someone calls it “heritage,” just remember: if your country collapses before a limited-edition McRib, you’re not a legacy — you’re a limited release.
If your flag lasted less than a cable sitcom, maybe rethink the tattoo.
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