I don’t know that there are any short cuts to doing a good job -Sandra Day O’Connor
On this particular day, unusual urgency was apparent in the rustle of legal briefs, and in the hushed whispers of clerks. Along with signs that something unusual was in the air, something else tugged at Justice Stalwart thoughts — an old memory of an upside-down flag fluttering in the wind and how it might affect the proceedings today.
It had begun innocently enough. Justice Stalwart’s wife, Delilah, had always been enthusiastic about flags. She collected them — American flags, state flags, even obscure historical flags, and sometimes on whim, created entirely new flags of made-up countries, like Drussia. Their home resembled a museum of vexillology in a peaceful and non-descript suburb.
But one day, the winds of discord blew through their neighborhood.
Anne Hutchinson, their neighbor, had erected a sign in her yard — a glittering, cursive proclamation that read, “Fay Umptray.” The sign sparkled like a rebellious star against the suburban backdrop. Delilah, ever the patriot, took offense. She marched over, her indignation flaring like a phosphorus matchstick.
“Anne,” she said, her voice trembling with righteousness, “this sign is an insult to our democracy!”
Anne raised an eyebrow. “Delilah, it is free speech. We are allowed to express our opinions. Particularly, against the aging politicians who chase and grab our cats.”
Enraged Delilah retreated to her own yard and unfurled one of finest American flag in her collection and hoisted it upside-down. It was her way of saying “This is my protest against my neighbors indecent and uncalled for behavior.”
And so, the flag flew — an emblem of defiance, a silent scream against perceived injustice.
Justice Stalwart was caught in an awkward situation and when confronted by journalists squarely put the responsibility for an upside-down flag in his front yard on his wifie’s shoulder and tried to come away clean.
Then came the day we started this story from — the day Justice Stalwart sat on the bench, robes billowing, ready to hand over judgments as needed.
The case before him involved a First Amendment challenge. A man had burned the flag during a protest, claiming it was his right to do so. The courtroom buzzed with anticipation wondering what stance Justice Stalwart would take, particularly in the backdrop of an upside-down flag flying in his own house.
Justice Stalwart leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. The flag outside the window, that stubborn symbol, seemed to mock him. He remembered Delilah’s fervent defense, her insistence that the upside-down flag was a symbol of her voice and way he had distanced himself from the incident. But now, faced with the same situation but in a dissimilar context, he had different thoughts.
“Your Honor,” the attorney argued, “burning the flag is an act of free speech. It is protected.”
Justice Stalwart glanced at the flagpole outside the window. The stars winked at him, as if daring him to decide. He thought of Anne’s sign of political defiance, of Delilah’s rebuttal, all in the name of free speech.
And then he spoke. “The flag,” he said, “is more than cloth. It is a canvas for our ideals, our past struggles as a nation. Desecrating it is a dishonor to the country.
The attorney blinked. “Your Honor, but you yourself stood complacent and watched the flag fly upside-down.”
Justice Stalwart straightened. “In this case,” he declared, “the flag was burned not as act of freedom but out of disrespect to the history of our nation.”
There was a pin drop silence in the courtroom.
The flag outside fluttered, as if ashamed of double standards right under its shadow.
Justice Stalwart walked out into the sunlight, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting allegiances. And somewhere, in the quiet corners of his heart, he wondered if he had made the right choice.
Ciao.
Epilogue: If I was in the Chambers of the court on charges of flying an American flag upside-down and put forward the defense that I had nothing to do with it and it was an act concocted by my spouse on whom I have no control over, I wonder what Justice Stalwart’s viewpoint and decision would be? Not what he passed on himself.
People in high places think that they can get away with any misdemeanors of ethical or moral issues. Do they really think that people hold a shred of belief in cockamamie stories they tell to justify their unethical behavior?
The employees of the United States federal service (the Executive Branch) have to take an ethics training once a year and are told that they cannot receive a gift exceeding in value above $20, and if they do, they could be fired for breaking the law. The same rule either does not apply to the members of the legislative and judiciary branches or they know that they can get away with.
The double standards want to make us, the common citizens, simmer in a silent rage.
