If democracy bends toward the tragic, patriotism leans toward the Gothic. As democracy's agent, patriotism draws on horrific events, construed in ghoulish terms, to service democracy's need for love, fealty, and tribute. Democracy seems content, even pleased, to allow patriotism free reign insofar as patriotism obscures the tragic dynamics that bedevil it, including practices best characterized as prejudicial, even suicidal, to democracy. Patriotic culture, of course, understands itself differently. As far as it's concerned, patriotism reminds citizens that democracy, a uniquely vulnerable kind of polity, faces lethal enemies and imminent threats, a judgment that many citizens have no desire to challenge, let alone reject. For circumstances often dictate that a democracy mimic its enemies to protect itself against them, to fully prepare for the danger sure to materialize. As democracy's servant, patriotism happily plays its supporting role, but it also frequently assumes center stage.

Though democracy is well-advised to explore a tragic political sensibility, it prefers a patriotic comportment instead. Patriotism, it must be remembered, likes to sound warnings (urgent, dire) and demand remedies (bold, dramatic) on behalf of the democracy it ostensibly serves. It's all quite exciting, romantic, and a bit melodramatic. But not unsurprising. Democracy apparently creates an unacknowledged need for patriotism and its bedazzlements. Nietzsche argued that killing God was a deed too great for its authors to abide. Likewise, democracy may find living in a world beset by its own tragedies too terrible to admit.