The Pledge of Allegiance: Indoctrination 101
If there were ever a textbook example of indoctrination hiding in plain sight, it’s the Pledge of Allegiance. Every morning, millions of schoolchildren stand, hand over heart, eyes facing a flag they didn’t choose, and recite a loyalty oath they don’t understand. That is not freedom; that is programming. And yet, we are told this is tradition, that it is harmless, that it is patriotic. But what is patriotism worth if it must be drilled into you before you’re even old enough to question it?
The hypocrisy is staggering. Today’s political right endlessly screams about “indoctrination” in schools; about books, about history, about teaching kids that gay people exist or that racism has consequences. But when it comes to forcing children to chant their allegiance to the state, suddenly indoctrination is rebranded as virtue. The ritual becomes sacred, unquestionable, the one “lesson” that never needs defending. It reveals what the right truly means when they complain about indoctrination: they’re not against shaping minds, they’re against shaping them in any way that deviates from their own ideological mold.
We should be honest about what the pledge is: an exercise in early obedience training. It’s the symbolic equivalent of a dog learning to sit. Before children can even parse the meaning of the words “indivisible” or “liberty,” they are conditioned to equate loyalty to the nation with morality itself. Break the ritual, sit it out, or even hesitate, and watch how quickly the mask of “freedom” slips. Classmates stare. Teachers punish. Communities brand you ungrateful or even dangerous. This is not about choice; this is about control.
The Historical Roots of the Pledge
What makes the pledge even more suspect is its actual origin. It was not born of some timeless American tradition, but out of marketing and politics. Written in 1892 by Francis Bellamy, a Christian socialist, the pledge was originally intended to promote the sale of American flags to schools as part of a campaign tied to the 400th anniversary of Columbus’s arrival. In other words, it was a commercial gimmick long before it became a sacred ritual.
The pledge has been revised over time, most notably in 1954, during the Cold War, when Congress added the phrase “under God” in an explicit attempt to distinguish the United States from atheistic communism. This insertion was not about divine truth but about political positioning; religion weaponized against an enemy ideology. Far from a natural or eternal expression of patriotism, the pledge has always been an instrument of power, tailored to fit the anxieties and agendas of the moment. That is the very definition of propaganda.
Indoctrination at Home and Abroad
Americans love to look outward and sneer at the “forced patriotism” of other nations. We point to North Korea’s children singing hymns to their leader, or to Chinese classrooms where students are drilled in Communist Party slogans. We scoff at how absurd, robotic, and cult-like these rituals seem. Yet when we require our own children to stand and recite a daily oath to a flag and government they cannot yet critique, we fail to recognize the same mechanism at work.
The difference is mostly in presentation. Authoritarian indoctrination is loud and obvious. American indoctrination cloaks itself in the language of liberty, freedom, and God. But the function is identical: to create loyalty that precedes understanding, to plant identity before reason can uproot it, and to make deviation feel like betrayal rather than thought.
A Personal Reckoning
I didn’t fully see through this charade until early adulthood. For years, I had repeated the words without question, the ritual so normalized that it was invisible. But once the illusion cracked, it was impossible to repair. I began “sitting out” these brazen acts of indoctrination. The Pledge of Allegiance. The Star-Spangled Banner at public events. Each time I chose silence over ritual, I felt the weight of my choice. And many times, I paid a price.
My refusal has led to some difficult conversations, and not with the kind of people one hopes to engage in thoughtful dialogue. The very act of withholding participation, of rejecting the demand to perform loyalty, provokes anger and suspicion. I’ve been challenged, glared at, and interrogated. Explaining that I will not take part in a loyalty oath to false promises rarely ends in mutual understanding. But that is precisely the point: this isn’t about dialogue, it’s about conformity.
And still, I persist. Because to stand, to recite, to sing along is to affirm a myth I cannot stomach. The myth that America’s liberty is indivisible. The myth that justice is guaranteed. The myth that the flag stands for freedom rather than for violence, inequality, and exploitation. Refusing to play along with indoctrination doesn’t make me less free; it is one of the only ways left to assert my freedom at all.
The Lie of Freedom Through Ritual
The pledge and the anthem function as both shield and sword. They shield the nation from honest critique by labeling dissent as disloyalty, and they cut down anyone who dares to suggest the emperor has no clothes. This is not patriotism. This is control. It is indoctrination 101, packaged as tradition, enforced as morality, and disguised as freedom.
The true danger of indoctrination is not that it makes you believe lies, but that it makes you afraid to question them. And that, above all, is what the Pledge of Allegiance accomplishes in America.