Why the Flag Looks Like That. And Like That. And Like That.

When the news broke that an upside-down American flag, a protest symbol carried by the Jan. 6 rioters, had flown above the home of a Supreme Court justice, some saw it as a sign of how badly the court had been corrupted. Others saw it as a sign of how badly the news media had been corrupted. For me, the unfurling scandal was a testament to the enduring expressive power of flags.

According to Justice Samuel Alito, the decision by his wife, Martha-Ann, to hoist that inverted standard was an expression of distress over a personal conflict with a neighbor. Soon it emerged that she had flown another provocative flag, the Pine Tree flag. And later, caught on a secret recording, Mrs. Alito expressed indignation over the sight of yet another flag, the rainbow Pride flag She fantasized aloud about conveying her disapproval through, amazingly, another flag, one of her own invention that would bear the Italian word for shame.

It’s remarkable to me how, in a desacralized and image-saturated era, these simple devices can still inspire such intense passion. It’s also remarkable how flexible they can be as symbols. This is especially true of the American flag, whose red, white and blue is as laden with meaning as it is contestable.

That flag is more visible on the anniversary of the nation’s founding than on any other day of the year. It’s in front of government buildings, in the hands of parade-goers, in the windows of shops and restaurants. It will be worn on T-shirts, burned in protest and sculpted in cake frosting. It’s a seeming expression of unanimity, but everyone brings to the flag a different set of associations. And they’re all right.

The Pine Tree flag, which had its origins in the Revolutionary War, had been recently claimed by Black Lives Matter protesters and Christian theocrats alike before it was brandished on the steps of the Capitol by Jan. 6 rioters.