Why Nationalism

by Yael Tamir

  natural; it is the result of social and educational processes struc-

  tured to allow the internalization of a set of beliefs, behaviors,

  norms, and cultural preferences. The result is an overlap of private

  cognitive spheres that marks the boundaries of the nation.

  In this sense nations are mental structures existing in the

  minds of their members. A nation, Benedict Anderson states, “is

  imagined because the members of even the smallest nation wil

  never know most of their fellow- members, meet them, or even

  hear of them, yet in the minds of each lives an image of their com-

  munity.”11 Self- testimony is therefore the only way to know

  whether such an overlap has been established. Like a pair of

  lovers or a group of friends, a nation is the kind of entity whose

  existence cannot be inferred from some objective external fea-

  tures. The following two examples demonstrate the importance

  of self- definition. Members of the Palestinian nation share a re-

  ligion, language, culture, and territory. However, they do not all

  share all four characteristics; some are Christians, others live in

  the Diaspora and therefore do not share a language, culture, or

  territory with their fellow nationals. A Christian Palestinian liv-

  ing in Jerusalem may share no objective features with a Muslim

  Nation

  Building • 59

  member of the Palestinian Diaspora, but he does share a terri-

  tory and maybe a language with a neighboring Jew.

  Consequently, an external observer would be unable to divide

  the world into nations and explain why Jews of Ethiopian, Rus-

  sian, Moroccan, and Israeli origins belong to the same nation

  while Palestinians, Jordanians, and Egyptian Muslims are mem-

  bers of different nations. Likewise, it will be impossible for such

  an external observer to understand why northern Italians and

  southern Swiss belong to different nations.

  Collective consciousness allows members to perceive their na-

  tion as a whole. Some argue that this is an ability grounded in

  modern storytel ing, one that presents a plot incorporating a va-

  riety of individuals and events that do not occupy the same

  spatial or temporal space. Indeed for Benedict Anderson it was

  the modern novel that taught readers to follow the interactions

  between various characters over space and time. Print capital-

  ism allowed the novel, the newspaper, the poster, and other

  printed texts to be distributed in a cheap and effective way and

  “created the possibility of a new form of imagined community,

  which in its basic morphology sets the stage for the modern

  nation.”12

  The Old and New Testament as well as the Koran fostered a

  similar kind of imagination much before the modern novel was

  invented, yet the human relationships they describe are vertical;

  they tell a story about a leader and his followers. The modern

  novel describes people like us, speaking our language, and act-

  ing in familiar ways. It therefore allows individuals to form an

  image of a horizontal society in which we could be included.

  Moreover, religious texts embody universal aspirations and are

  expected to be relevant to all readers, everywhere, at any given

  time. The modern novel is localized, written in the vernacular;

  it happens here and tel s a tale about people motivated by human

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  7

  powers. It does not divide the world between believers and in-

  fidels but between us and them.

  One of the reasons for the contemporary political crisis,

  marked by inner conflicts and social polarization, is the disin-

  tegration of unifying narratives. The combined effect of pro-

  cesses, ranging from respect for diversity embedded in iden-

  tity politics to postmodernism, reinforced by a growing antipathy

  to the state as a mega storyteller, made organizing narratives

  rare and less effective. One of the prime questions of this cen-

  tury is whether such narratives could be revived and what

  would be their content.

  8

  National Creativity

  I have already argued that democratic states cannot function as

  transient associations. Neither democracy nor justice can stand

  the pressures of short- termism, which is a fatal social and politi-

  cal disease. Yet continuity is not merely a political need; from

  the point of view of the individual it is no less important. Not

  only does short- termism undermine our ability to develop a ra-

  tional life plan, it also reflects on the importance of each and

  every one of our actions.

  Being aware of their mortality, individuals would like to be-

  lieve their deeds will survive them— nationalism offers them an

  effective tool of transgenerational presence. Placing one’s actions

  within an unending context endows them with additional sig-

  nificance and makes them part of an aggregated whole whose

  meaning transcends the individual. A poem or a work of art can

  stand alone, in some exceptional cases it will be appreciated in

  its own right. But very often, the value of a creative work can be

  appreciated only by referencing the works of others, shedding

  light on a particular narrative, being part of a certain national his-

  tory or an artistic approach. Referencing magnifies the impact

  of human actions.

  While all the nations of Europe are living out a common des-

  tiny, each lives it out according to its own distinct experience.

  This, Milan Kundera explains, is why:

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  the history of each European art (painting, the novel, music, and so

  on) seems like a relay race in which the various nations pass the

  baton from one to the next. Polyphonic music had its beginnings in

  France, continued its development in Italy, attained incredible com-

  plexity in the Netherlands, and reached its fulfillment in Germany,

  in the works of Bach; the upwel ing of the English novel of the eigh-

  teenth century is followed by the era of the French novel, then by

  the Russian novel, then by the Scandinavian, and so on. The dyna-

  mism and long life span of the history of the European arts are in-

  conceivable without the existence of all these nations whose diverse

  experiences constitute an inexhaustible reservoir of inspiration.1

  Kundera draws a distinction between art produced within the

  small national context and that produced within the large global

  setting. He yearns for the development of a Weltliteratur (a world

  literature) that includes works of genius coming from different

  national backgrounds. But there is much more to national cre-

  ativity than that which is created by a gifted few. Most creative

  actions are local, meaningful in a certain time and place. While

  they may not be monumental, they enrich the lives of those who

  create and consume them. Weltliteratur is the reign of the gifted

  few; national literature invites many more individuals to express

  themselves and feel creatively productive.

  In the contemporary Hebrew literature there are f
ew luminar-

  ies, but there are many more people of talent whose creativity is

  important to the whole. I cannot imagine the development of a

  modern Hebrew culture without their contribution, nor can I

  think of my own intellectual development without their inspira-

  tion. Nationalism, or small context creativity, gave their work

  meaning and in so doing created a wide space for personal expres-

  sions. In this sense, as in many others, the national creative sphere

  is far more open and all- encompassing than the global one.

  National

  Creativity • 63

  As argued, national membership not only intensifies the im-

  portance of one’s doings, it also promises individuals a place in

  the ongoing chain of being. We find it difficult to accept that our

  life will end leaving no traces behind. Religious believers find

  solace in the afterlife, but for modern secular- minded individu-

  als, mortality can be rebutted only by sharing one’s life experi-

  ences with significant others.

  “A man knows that he is mortal, but he takes it for granted that

  his nation possesses a kind of eternal life.”2 These words sum up

  the message communicated by nationalism: nations are here to

  stay; they can therefore transcend the momentary, shifting finite

  human experience from the sphere of the mundane and the con-

  tingent to the realm of the eternal. This notion of continuity is

  of particular importance in a modern era, when identification

  with the nation is “the surest way to surmount the finality of

  death and ensure a measure of personal immortality.”3

  If nationalism claims to hold a key to eternity, nations must

  profess immortality. On the verge of their almost certain death

  in battle, King Henry V promised his men a chance to attain glory

  by entering the national pantheon as his equals. And so says

  Henry V to his men:

  This story shall the good man teach his son

  And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,

  From this day to the ending of the world,

  But we in it shall be remembered;

  We few, we happy few, we band of brothers.4

  No wonder that during the most difficult days of World War II

  Winston Churchill approached the British people, echoing this

  promise: “Let us . . . brace ourselves to our duties, and so bear

  ourselves that, if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last

  for a thousand years, men will still say, ‘This was their finest

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  hour.’ ”5 Soon after, with the support of the British government,

  Henry V was made into a film intended to raise the public spirit.

  It was “dedicated to the ‘Commandos and Airborne Troops of

  Great Britain the spirit of whose ancestors it has been humbly

  attempted to recapture.’ ” Laurence Olivier, riding a white horse,

  delivering the Crispin Crispian speech, became a symbol for

  British heroic standing. A speech written by a great playwright,

  played by a gifted actor, shaped the collective consciousness in

  ways few real events ever did.

  In order to be believed and turned into a collective motiva-

  tional force, national narratives must be personalized. Like collec-

  tive consciousness, collective memory offers a way of internalizing

  events. Remembering is an intimate act of bringing back to mind

  something from one’s own past. Collective memory allows us to

  recall things that have happened to others. Such recollections are

  different from knowledge; they invite us to feel as if we, ourselves,

  had participated in the events. One of the major rituals of Passover

  is remembering the Exodus of the Jews from Egypt. “In each and

  every generation,” the traditional text reads, “a person is obliged

  to see himself, as if he personally has left Egypt.” The notion of

  “as if” discloses the active nature of collective memory, turning

  national historical events into unmediated personal experiences.

  Collective memory enriches the personal mind (imagine how

  impoverished our personal memory would have been if it car-

  ried only unmediated memories— namely, if we were to remem-

  ber only things that have happened to us). Moreover, it creates

  the basis for an ongoing communal dialogue based on shared

  moments of glory or despair. The collectivization of memory

  thus turns individuals from cognitive monads whose experiences

  are limited and dull into cooperative minds who share words,

  views, images, melodies, scents, and tastes with others. Like

  other collective notions, collective memory elevates the

  National

  Creativity • 65

  conventional, letting ordinary people share the exceptional. In

  this way it allows for an egalitarian consumption of cultural and

  historical contributions: from each according to his ability, to

  each according to his needs.

  Forgetfulness, memory’s greatest cognitive rival, also plays an

  important role in the life of nations. Deliberate forgetfulness con-

  stitutes an important, and perhaps indispensable, feature of na-

  tion building. A nation is a group of individuals who cherish and

  retain their shared history but remember it selectively, ready to

  forget some of its less pleasant episodes.6 Here are two examples

  Benedict Anderson highlights: the American educational system

  encourages a view of the 1861– 65 armed conflict between the

  Union and the Confederacy as a civil war within one state and

  not between, “as they briefly were, two sovereign states.”7 Simi-

  larly, English- history textbooks intentionally obscure the answer

  to the disquieting question of what or whom did Wil iam the

  Conqueror conquer:

  The only intel igible modern answer would be “Conqueror of the

  English,” which would turn the old Norman predator into a more

  successful precursor of Napoleon and Hitler. Hence “the Con-

  queror” operates . . . to remind one of something which one is

  immediately obligated to forget. Norman William and Saxon

  Harold thus meet on the battlefield of Hastings, if not as dancing

  partners, at least as brothers.8

  Deliberate forgetfulness and misrepresentation of historical facts

  constitute an important, and perhaps indispensable, feature of

  nation building, allowing different groups to develop a sense

  of brotherhood.

  The handmade combination of remembrance and forgetful-

  ness must be handled delicately, tailored to serve the national

  purpose, offered to the public in a way that will convince

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  8

  individuals to endorse them. Consequently, their makers are

  endlessly involved in a process of producing proof and in so

  doing give birth to most of the modern branches of the humani-

  ties nurtured by the nation- state as facts providing mechanisms.

  Historical research is the most obvious example of all. So en-

  gaged was the historian in his national love affair, writes the

  Israeli historian Shlomo Zand, that he could not distinguish

  between the state and the nation and, even more
problemati-

  cal y, between the nation and time: “Identity, emotions, national

  structures seem to him eternal and he stretched them to the end

  of historical time. . . . His spectacles were thick but they inspired

  shortsightedness.”9

  History is only one example of “the national sciences” re-

  cruited to support the national narrative. Archaeology, geogra-

  phy, literature, linguistics, sociology, art, and biology (among

  other fields of inquiry) were harnessed to the service of the na-

  tion. Research in these fields outlined the boundaries of the

  nation, described its territory, defined its values, celebrated its

  traditions, and exposed the glory of the past. The historian,

  alongside the archaeologist, the geographer, the poet, the author,

  the painter, the architect, the photographer, the composer,

  and the biologist, carried a national mission and was therefore

  venerated and generously funded.

  The generous investment in the national sciences fostered the

  production of collective goods that cannot be individually pro-

  duced or consumed. In order to enjoy them one must encour-

  age a communal dialogue. Kundera summarizes the essence of

  our need for others to share a life with in order to expand our

  consciousness, memory, and imagination:

  Friendship is indispensable to man for the proper function of his

  memory. Remembering our past, carrying it with us always, may

  National

  Creativity • 67

  be the necessary requirement for maintaining, as they say, the

  wholeness of the self. To ensure that the self doesn’t shrink, to

  see that it holds on to its volume, memories have to be watered like

  potted flowers, and the watering calls for regular contact with the

  witnesses of the past, that is to say, with friends. They are our mir-

  ror; our memory; we ask nothing of them but that they polish the

  mirror from time to time so we can look at ourselves in it.10

  Nationalism waters our memories, interprets our dreams, and

  does not allow us to shrink into solitude. The obligation to learn,

  remember, preserve, and respect is articulated in endless

  impressive ways the world over. Capital cities are crowded

  with monuments, museums, squares, and boulevards celebrat-

  ing national events and national heroes. Schoolchildren tour

  these places in order to learn about the past and get intimate