Dwain Northey (Gen X)

The Week Hypocrisy Finally Needed Its Own Zip Code

There are weeks in American politics when you think surely we have reached the outer limits of hypocrisy. Surely the political class has finally found the edge of the map, looked over the cliff and said, “Well, perhaps we should stop here.”

And then Republicans spend the week proving that, no, apparently there is no edge.

This week has given us a spectacular two-for-one special in political virtue signaling: the sudden discovery by Republicans that Dolly Parton was apparently the patron saint of MAGA conservatism, immediately followed by the breathtaking possibility that the name of a Black World War II hero could be removed from an aircraft carrier so Donald Trump’s name could go on it instead.

Honestly, you couldn’t write this satire without somebody accusing you of being too ridiculous.

Let’s begin with Dolly.

Dolly Parton died at 80, and America lost something genuinely rare: a person who managed to become extraordinarily wealthy and famous without allowing either wealth or fame to become the point of the exercise. She built businesses, wrote songs, entertained generations and gave away an astonishing amount of money and opportunity. Her Imagination Library alone has distributed hundreds of millions of books to children. (AP News⁠)

And suddenly, Republicans everywhere discovered that Dolly was their kind of woman.

Really?

Dolly Parton?

The same Dolly Parton who embraced LGBTQ people? The same Dolly who made room for people who didn’t fit neatly into somebody else’s little ideological box? The same Dolly whose public philosophy was essentially, “Maybe we should be kind to people”?

Apparently, she was MAGA all along.

Who knew?

Perhaps tomorrow we’ll discover that Dolly secretly spent her evenings at Mar-a-Lago complaining about drag queens and demanding that somebody ban a library book.

Except there is one tiny problem with that narrative:

Dolly was Dolly.

She didn’t need a political tribe to tell her who she was.

She didn’t need a permission slip from the Republican Party to be Christian.

She didn’t need to demonize transgender people to prove her faith.

She didn’t need to hate gay people to demonstrate her patriotism.

She didn’t need to scream about morality while treating compassion like a contagious disease.

She simply tried to be decent.

And that may be the most inconvenient thing about Dolly’s legacy for today’s political right.

Because if you actually read the New Testament and ignore the modern political merchandising operation surrounding Christianity, Jesus spends an awful lot of time talking about feeding people, helping people, loving people, forgiving people, welcoming outsiders and taking care of those society has decided aren’t important.

Dolly seemed to understand that.

She didn’t spend her life demanding applause for every good deed. She just did them.

That is precisely what makes the sudden political appropriation of her legacy so absurd.

It’s like watching somebody spend a lifetime arguing that kindness is weakness and then, upon discovering that the nicest person in America has died, announce:

“She was one of us!”

No.

She wasn’t necessarily “one of you.”

She was one of us.

That’s the point.

Dolly’s appeal was that she didn’t require everyone to become Dolly Parton before she was willing to love them.

And now, while the Dolly virtue-signaling circus is still warming up, we get the second act.

The Navy is reportedly considering removing the name of Doris Miller from the future USS Doris Miller and replacing it with Donald Trump’s name. The proposal would represent an unprecedented naming of a Navy vessel for a sitting president. (ABC News⁠)

Let that marinate for a moment.

Doris Miller was a Black enlisted sailor who became a hero during the attack on Pearl Harbor. He took extraordinary action under fire, helping wounded sailors and manning a machine gun against attacking Japanese aircraft. For his actions, he received the Navy Cross. He later died aboard the USS Liscome Bay when it was torpedoed and sunk in the Pacific. (Reed Senate⁠)

In 2020, the Navy announced that a Ford-class aircraft carrier would bear his name—the first aircraft carrier named for a Black person and an enlisted sailor.

And now we’re apparently asking:

“Yeah, but what if we put Trump’s name there instead?”

Because nothing says “honoring American military heroes” quite like removing the name of a Black sailor who died in World War II and replacing it with the name of a living president.

That isn’t merely tone-deaf.

That’s Olympic-level tone-deaf.

That’s “hold my beer while I make history for all the wrong reasons” tone-deaf.

And let’s be clear: this isn’t about whether Trump should someday have something named after him.

Presidents have buildings, airports, roads, libraries and monuments named after them all the time.

But there is a rather obvious difference between honoring a former president after his service in office and taking the name of a fallen American war hero off a Navy carrier while that president is still sitting in the Oval Office.

And as a veteran, I find that particularly insulting.

Because military service isn’t supposed to be a participation trophy for the powerful.

You don’t get to erase the name of somebody who actually stood under fire because you happen to occupy the most powerful office in the country.

Dorie Miller didn’t have five draft deferments.

He didn’t inherit a fortune.

He didn’t spend his life cultivating a personal brand.

He wasn’t born into the kind of privilege that allowed him to avoid the consequences of war.

He was a Black enlisted sailor in a segregated Navy who found himself in the middle of an attack on Pearl Harbor and did what needed to be done.

Then he died serving his country.

And somehow the proposed upgrade is:

Doris Miller → Donald Trump.

That’s not an upgrade.

That’s a political nameplate being slapped over a piece of American history.

And the irony is almost too perfect.

The same political movement that constantly lectures everyone about honoring the military suddenly wants to take the name of a Black military hero off a carrier.

The same people who scream that America must never forget its history suddenly seem perfectly comfortable erasing a piece of it.

The same people who claim to worship traditional values are apparently comfortable turning military honors into presidential branding.

And the same people who want us to believe they are defending Christian values have spent the week trying to claim Dolly Parton as their own despite the fact that the actual substance of her life was remarkably incompatible with their culture-war obsession.

Maybe that’s the real lesson of this week.

Dolly Parton didn’t need to tell everyone how good she was.

She did good.

Dorie Miller didn’t need to tell everyone he was a hero.

He acted heroically.

Neither man—well, one woman and one man—needed a giant sign bearing their own name to establish their worth.

One gave books to children.

One defended his shipmates under enemy fire.

One spent decades making other people’s lives better.

One gave his life serving his country.

And then there’s the modern political superstar who apparently needs his name put on everything from golf courses to government buildings to potentially an aircraft carrier because apparently the words “Donald Trump” must never be allowed to exist at a distance greater than six feet from a brass plaque.

At some point, this stops being patriotism.

It becomes narcissism wearing a flag pin.

And perhaps that’s why this week feels particularly grotesque.

Dolly Parton’s legacy is about generosity without the demand for applause.

Dorie Miller’s legacy is about service without the expectation of personal glory.

And then we have a political movement that seems increasingly obsessed with turning every institution, every monument, every government building and potentially every military vessel into another shrine to one man’s ego.

So here’s a modest suggestion:

If Republicans genuinely want to honor Dolly Parton, don’t claim she belonged to your political movement.

Try living by the values she actually demonstrated.

Be generous.

Help children.

Love people who aren’t exactly like you.

Stand up for people who are being bullied.

Treat your fellow human beings with dignity.

And maybe, just maybe, stop demanding that everyone else prove their moral worthiness before you allow them to exist.

And if you genuinely want to honor the military, leave USS Doris Miller alone.

Let the name of a Black American sailor who fought at Pearl Harbor continue sailing into the future.

Because that name doesn’t need replacing.

It needs remembering.

And if Donald Trump absolutely requires a Navy ship with his name on it, I’m sure we can find one.

Perhaps the USS I, Me & Mine is available.

Although, knowing the Navy, they’d probably insist on something more traditional.

Maybe the USS Five Deferments.

But whatever they call it, let’s not pretend putting Donald Trump’s name over Doris Miller’s is about honoring the military.

That’s not honoring history.

That’s rewriting it.

And there is a very big difference between being remembered by history and trying to put your name on history while you’re still writing the check.

Dolly understood the first.

Dorie Miller earned it.

The rest of us should be able to recognize the difference.