Patriotism. Combustible rubbish ready to the torch of any one

The words of Ambrose Bierce—“Patriotism. Combustible rubbish ready to the torch of any one ambitious to illuminate his name.”—strike like the lash of a cynic’s whip, yet beneath the sting lies wisdom carved by bitter experience. Bierce, a soldier in the Civil War and later a satirist of fierce wit, had seen firsthand how noble ideals could be twisted into fuel for vanity, conquest, and ambition. In his declaration, patriotism is not dismissed as false, but exposed as dangerously volatile, a fire that burns brightest not always for the people, but for those who wield it as a weapon to glorify themselves.

At the heart of Bierce’s vision lies the image of combustible rubbish—dry tinder, piled high, awaiting only the torch. Patriotism, when untethered from wisdom, justice, and compassion, becomes precisely this: a mass of fervor, easily set aflame by leaders who seek not the good of the people but the swelling of their own renown. It is a warning against the manipulation of the human heart, for love of country, so pure in its origin, can be corrupted into a blind frenzy at the hands of the ambitious.

History bears grim witness to Bierce’s words. Consider the First World War, when nations across Europe lit their peoples’ hearts with fiery rhetoric of patriotism. Millions marched off believing themselves to be defenders of honor and homeland, while leaders grasped at glory, empire, and remembrance. The result was not greatness but slaughter—trenches filled with the young, nations reduced to ruin, and ambitions that crumbled into dust. Patriotism was indeed the rubbish, ignited by those eager to “illuminate their name,” but the light it cast was the glow of burning fields and shattered lives.

And yet, we must be careful, for Bierce does not tell us to abandon patriotism. He tells us to be wary of it. The love of one’s country is not in itself the danger; the danger lies in its misuse. Just as fire can warm or destroy, so can patriotism uplift or consume. When yoked to justice and humility, it inspires sacrifice and unity. But when yoked to pride and ambition, it becomes the pyre upon which innocence and truth are consumed. Bierce, with his soldier’s eye and satirist’s pen, warns us to discern the fire-bearers carefully.

Consider, by contrast, the life of George Washington, who might have used patriotism to crown himself a king after the American Revolution. Instead, he laid down power, refusing the temptation to ignite his name in glory. He showed that true leadership is marked not by feeding on the combustible passions of the people, but by guiding those passions toward stability, humility, and the common good. In this, Washington stood against the very corruption Bierce condemned.

The lesson for us, heirs of both folly and wisdom, is clear: guard your love of country from those who would exploit it. Do not be quick to follow the one who waves the flag most fiercely, for ambition often cloaks itself in symbols of loyalty. Ask always: does this call to patriotism serve the people, or does it serve the pride of one man? Does it defend the weak, or does it consume them in pursuit of another’s fame? In this discernment lies the difference between freedom and ruin.

In daily life, this means practicing a patriotism of humility. Serve your community not for recognition, but for love. Support your nation not with unthinking obedience, but with thoughtful devotion. Resist the cries that demand hatred of others in the name of loyalty, and instead kindle a patriotism that is steady, just, and compassionate. In this way, you guard the sacred fire from becoming destructive flame.

Thus let Bierce’s words echo as both warning and guide: patriotism is tinder, easily lit by ambition. Beware the torchbearers who seek only to glorify their names, and instead become the guardians who keep the flame steady, so that it warms rather than consumes. For the truest patriots are not those who burn brightest for an instant, but those who preserve the fire for generations yet to come.