Nationalism

      A local guide named Milan was explaining the glories of the unfinished St. Sava Cathedral in Belgrade, telling us that it would be the largest Orthodox church in the world. Under construction since 1935 it is grand indeed, with a commanding prospect atop the Vračar Plateau, though one might wonder what the Christ who praised humility and frowned upon ostentation would have thought of it.
     Christ may not, however, be the inevitable focus for Milan when he visits St. Sava. The saint is a national patriotic icon, considered founder of the Serbian Orthodox Church and its original leader, and the patron of the nation. The Serbs regularly sought the magical aid of his relics and used his image on their battle flags when they opposed the Turks. In 1594 the Turks burned his remains on the present site of the St. Sava church in the course of suppressing a rebellion.
     Milan’s pride in his nation was evident and capable, I think, of refracting his judgment. His Guinness Book of Records sensibility in describing the temple had more to do with assertive patriotism than with spirituality, but St. Sava’s is not, in fact, the largest Orthodox church. While his objections to the NATO bombing of his country in 1999 are understandable from the perspective of civilian noncombatants, he never mentioned the brutal ethnic cleansing that provoked the attacks, nor the earlier atrocities of the Serbian army, most infamously the Srebrenica and Markale massacres, that had motivated an earlier wave of NATO bombing in 1995.
     Milan declared as though it were unarguable that, to be a nation, three elements are required. First of all, he said, the citizens must share a common religion. So much for the ethnic Albanians and Bosniak Serbs. To Milan Kosovo is not merely part of Serbia, it is Serbia’s essential historic center, and it is quite true that after the Battle of Kosovo in 1389 it became the chief city of medieval Serbia both politically and in church organization. To Milan the Muslim separatists there, who came to dominate the population and prevailed in the UN, are of a piece with the evil Turks of the past who sought to subjugate his country. We are so accustomed to the rhetoric of multiculturalism that the candid expression of such sentiments surprise Americans.
     Secondly, Milan said a nation must all speak a common language. So he would, I suppose, be among those Americans who are irked to hear Spanish in their local supermarket. Thirdly, he said they must be aware of their history. This last is surely unexceptionable except when centuries-old conflicts are made the basis for present-day hostilities.
     Opinions such as Milan’s are widespread, in his own country and abroad. Indeed, when the brutal general Ratko Mladić, later found guilty of war crimes, was a fugitive and the United States was offering a reward of €1.3 million for his capture, a poll indicated that two thirds of Serbian respondents said they would not turn him in. When Mr. Bush the younger undertook his disastrous campaign in Iraq, those of us who objected encountered calumny and an unthinking rejection of our position, as though we were not merely politically wrong, but were in some way immoral.
     War is the great friend of the dictator, the great enemy of civil liberties and truth. Shortly before meeting Milan, I had been in Sofia, Bulgaria on the country’s Armed Forces Day and witnessed a huge military parade, with an endless succession of tanks, amphibious vehicles, and artillery trucks passing by while young and pleasant-looking men waved and fighter jets streaked overhead. How dreadful that focus on might, as though a nation is distinguished in a desirable way by such displays of potential violence. The streets were choked with people of all classes and ages in uplifted but sober holiday mood, waving flags like automatons.
     An American may remember with some pride (which is not the same as nationalism) how George Washington, a career military man, felt that such displays were out of place in a civilian-ruled republic. Just as one may, with more or less justice, feel proud about individual achievements, one may entertain similar feelings about national history or supposed national characteristics. The problem arises only when a person expects a better deal than others, when “I” or “my sort” seek precedence over others. Nationalism is pernicious the moment it becomes the excuse for tipping the scales in favor of one particular country at the expense of others. It leads directly to the atrocities for which Karadžić, Milošević, and Mladić are infamous, though their cousins may be found in every country.
     With our coy American codes imperialism and racism have been accustomed to receive kinder titles. During the Vietnam era of the attempt to impose foreign domination on a small and distant nation was described paradoxically as a “defense of freedom.” Militarism masquerades as support for servicemen, and the denial of civil rights hides under the banner of states’ rights or religious rights or the right not to be “politically correct.” Irrational chauvinism is no more reasonable when disguised (sometimes even by academics) as “American exceptionalism.”
      At certain moments in history, nationalism (like racial or ethnic pride of other sorts) does have a progressive potential. For instance in the nineteenth century revolts against the Ottomans and the Austro-Hungarian Empire, in the struggles of the Indians, Algerians, Vietnamese and others for self-determination, in the black power movement of the latter half of the sixties, nationalism provided a highly emotional temporary dynamo to motivate activism in a just cause. Yet nationalism is ultimately wrong and frequently poisonous because it is based on the inherently vicious proposition that one’s own country is to be preferred to others. While it is certainly natural for people, especially unsophisticated people, to remain committed to beliefs and practices they have known since childhood, this need not imply a denigration of other ways of being human.
     Yet patriotism is exalted around the globe as one of the highest and most moral of convictions, a significant marker of good character. I used to pass a Catholic school with the words “pro deo et patria,” a popular phrase that appears. among other places, on the Boy Scout religion merit badge, the insignia of the military chaplains, and, in English, as the title of a Dolly Parton album. The fact is that spirituality and nationalism are in an insoluble opposition. To Christ all children of God are equal, and his parables (such as the good Samaritan) regularly challenge his own community’s complacency. He was sufficiently subversive that the Roman government that had subjugated his region put him to death. Christ the pacifist would surely have mourned the use of his name by jingoists, yet this has never given pause to Christian militarists, any more than Buddhism’s compassion for all sentient beings inhibited the samurai code.
     Dangerously, the most certain routes to nationalism and support for any country’s ruling class are war and the threat of war. The most unpopular dictator can seem a beloved leader in conflict situations, making nationalism the regular resort of tyrants. At the same time, as Milan in Serbia and Trump in the USA demonstrate, nationalism customarily involves racism, xenophobia, and the suppression of minorities and civil liberties.
     The fact is that the nation-state is a relatively modern and highly artificial concept. Often boundary lines have ignored cultural and linguistic factors. The pope once divided South America, the continent of Africa was carved up by European powers at the Berlin Conference, and the English and the French Mandates covered the Middle East. Yet the residents of all these areas can be roused to patriotic fervor. “Nationalism,” as Orwell says, “is inseparable from the desire for power.” [1]
     Now in a time of renewed racism and impending fascism in the United States under the slogan “make America great again” it is important to recall the crimes committed in the name of what we are deceived to think are high ideals. The cosmopolitan Einstein was quite right when he told an interviewer “Nationalism is an infantile disease. It is the measles of mankind.” [2] Pride in oneself and in one’s land is appropriate as long as one wishes to be accepted as one among equals. The moment the sentiment extends to thinking one should take precedence nationalism becomes indistinguishable from racism and altogether poisonous.


1. In “Notes on Nationalism.”

2. December 22, 2015, The Saturday Evening Post “What Life Means to Einstein.”