Commentary Not everyone hates us

As the horror of September 11 eases into history, an increasing cadre of Americans entertain themselves trying to find fault with America.

This phenomenon of self-flagellation is more than a bit curious.

Americans are far from perfect; but, all things considered, we're not that bad. Sure, we're an arrogant and provincial bunch, but our hearts are usually in the right place.

Those who are "ashamed to be an American" would be hard pressed to find a better alternative; but, if railing against our society serves to assuage some twisted sense of guilt, I suppose it doesn't do a lot of harm.

The problem is that it doesn't do any good.

The fact of the matter is that the "imperialism" and consumerism that some find repugnant serve not only to fuel our economy but that of the world as a whole.

Without that economic engine, the world would be in sorry shape.

Thankfully, most of the world seeks not to destroy us, but to emulate us.

I'm not saying that Americans are particularly "loved;" but, aside from Islamic fundamentalists who cultivate hate as a tool, hatred of America may not be as widespread as some would have us believe.

So what is America's place in the world?

As originally conceived, "Third World" was a Cold War term that envisioned us, "them," and a third group of non-aligned countries.

Now, it's an anachronistic misnomer loosely applied to countries that don't measure up to some imaginary American standard; and it arbitrarily confers a sort of second -- or third -- class status on the recipient.

The standard is arbitrary because it presupposes that the American standard is the correct one.

The American view may be right for us, but we're wrong to assume it's the glass slipper to fit everyone else.

For example, I've heard Brazil referred to as a third world country. It's not. Granted, Brazil and Brazilians are different from us, but they fail to qualify as third world under any definition.

First, Brazil is not unaligned and has sided with the U.S. at virtually every opportunity for more than a century. Second, the fifth largest country in the world has a vital economy that sets the pace on that other American continent.

Much is made of Brazil's favelas, the slums of the poor.

The favelas I saw on a recent trip were neat little homes built of brick. They have windows, doors, electricity and -- as often as not -- satellite dishes. With Brazil's agrarian base, food is inexpensive. They may not live as well as we do, but are we at fault for having a higher standard of living?

Further, Brazilians don't seem to hate us. In fact, in some ways they're a lot like us. They eat at McDonald's, buy Coca Cola, and wear Nike swooshes. They watch the Academy Awards with a live Portuguese translation.

They live in high rise apartments; they live in homes; they live in favelas.

They drive cars, the majority of which are European models -- like most of the people themselves.

In the countryside, horse drawn carts with pneumatic tires are common but still outnumbered by automobiles. They have busses by the thousands.

Last month in Brazil, I met a Presbyterian minister who follows the U.S. economy more closely than I do. A Brazilian engineer told me that September 11 was possible because our country is too open and free.

A banker admitted that, because of a restrictive financial structure, it's more difficult for poor Brazilians to escape poverty than it is for poor Americans -- "not impossible," he said, "but very difficult."

The point, though, is that Brazil is Brazil; it's not America. They emulate us when it's right for them, but they're not trying to be American.

And we shouldn't expect them to be.

If Americans should feel guilty about anything, it's not about being too successful, too rich or too powerful. Rather, Americans can chastise themselves for insufficiently understanding other cultures.

With better understanding, America can better assist other nations and provide the kind of leadership that the world desperately needs.