The dictionary defines nationalism as “an extreme form of patriotism marked by a feeling of superiority over other countries”.
Being innately conservative, I’m wary of extreme forms of anything, but it seems that growing numbers on the political right feel differently. ‘Nationalism’ is ousting ‘patriotism’ as the buzz word of Brexit in the UK and similar developments elsewhere.
Moreover, ‘nationalism’ is yet again fusing with ‘populism’, and one would think this blend would have left a bad taste in the mouths of those who know modern history.
Nuances of phrasing matter: they convey nuances of substance. Hence patriotic opposition to, say, the EU is best expressed both positively, as a desire to uphold the constitution of the realm, and negatively, as contempt for that corrupt and dictatorial supranational contrivance.
However, when animated by hatred of Johnny Foreigner, this otherwise commendable sentiment acquires menacing overtones. Nationalist opposition may well blow the EU sky high, but one wonders what else it may send flying.
The blend of nationalism and populism inclines towards fascism, and we should all be aware of the ramifications. The tendency to produce this blend seems to be global, as most things are these days.
From the US to Russia and everywhere in between, even some good people see nothing wrong with nationalism, as opposed to patriotism. The descending order of their feelings is conveyed in different languages but with roughly the same meaning.
“I love my country” sits at the top, and this is a laudable statement.
Like two siblings who possess a knowledge inaccessible to a stranger, countrymen – regardless of their individual differences – are united by a bond as strong as it may be invisible to outsiders.
Nor is there anything wrong with regarding one’s country as unlike any other. All countries are different; if they weren’t, we wouldn’t have so many countries.
But of course what matters here isn’t the text but the subtext: when people insist that their country is exceptional, they usually mean not ‘different from…’, but ‘better than…’. They’re entitled even to that opinion, as long as they recognise that tastes may differ.
Moving down a step, “I love my country, right or wrong” begins to be problematic. However, the problem isn’t insurmountable: after all, though we like for something, we love in spite of everything. A normal son can’t always stop loving his wayward mother. Nor will a normal mother stop loving her son even if he shoplifts.
Another step down, and we overhear “I love my country because it’s always right, or at least more right than any other.” Between this step and the previous one a line was crossed separating patriotism from nationalism.
Implicit here is tribal, what before the advent of political correctness used to be called Hottentot, morality: if I steal his cow, that’s good; if he steals my cow, that’s bad. It took millennia of civilisation to overcome such tribalism, and evidently the job still isn’t quite finished.
Another step down, and the morass sucks us in waist-high. Here one hears (in America and Russia more than in Britain) “My country is always right because it’s guided by God.”
At this level American ‘manifest destiny’ and ‘a city on a hill’ are joined by the ‘Third Rome’ of Russia (revived after a few decades of communist messianism) and the ‘Gott mit uns’ of the SS. The underlying assumption is that our actions can only be judged by God, and he has given us an open-ended endorsement. Thus anything we do is justified simply because we do it.
The lowest rung reaches to the bottom of the swamp, where creepy-crawlies take refuge. Here the sentiment is “Because our country is guided by God, it’s our duty to impose our ways on others.” Since no real faith in God underlines this feeling, the clause at the beginning of the sentence may eventually be dropped for being superfluous.
Only Americans and Russians have traditionally descended this ladder below the top two rungs in noticeable numbers. Also specific to America and Russia is the heavy representation of this genre of nationalism in the political mainstream.
In other countries it used to be relegated to the lunatic fringe, an area inhabited, say, by France’s Front National, German neo-Nazis or our own dear BNP. European countries have always had individuals prepared to dive headlong into the swamp of sanctimonious jingoism, except that such willing divers have never represented the dominant ethos.
What’s worrying is that the European lunatic fringe is creeping up into the conservative mainstream, poisoning the well to a point where drinking from it may become bad for society’s health. That tendency is explicable in Newtonian terms.
Newton’s Third Law says that for every action there’s an equal and opposite reaction. And the widespread post-war action has been directed against patriotism, wrongly equated with nationalism.
This led not only to economic but also political globalism. Rather than forming ad hoc alliances, nations were encouraged or coerced to form permanent unions. Nations were denationalising.
Patriots were demonised for stepping even on the top two rungs of the above ladder; loving one’s country became infra dig. Predictably, Newton’s law clicked in, and people began to react, or rather overreact. Internationalist sabotage created a nationalist response.
This is understandable, but that doesn’t make it any more acceptable. Once let out, the genie of jingoism won’t stay in the bottle, and there may be blood in the streets.
In 1968 Enoch Powell introduced ‘rivers of blood’ into common parlance by quoting Virgil: “As I look ahead, I am filled with foreboding; like the Roman, I seem to see ‘the River Tiber foaming with much blood.’”
He was talking specifically about the catastrophic consequences of uncontrolled immigration, but that river can have other tributaries as well. Such as nationalism.
Why is nationalism more popular in France than in England? Is it because they teach philosophy in schools?