Wednesday 17 October 2018

Identity: The Demand for Dignity and the Politics of Resentment

The modern concept of identity unites three different phenomena. The first is thymos, a universal aspect of human personality that craves recognition. The second is the distinction between the inner and the outer self, and the raising of the moral valuation of the inner self over outer society. This emerged only in early modern Europe. The third is an evolving concept of dignity, in which recognition is due not just to a narrow class of people, but to everyone. The broadening and universalization of dignity turns the private quest for self into a political project.

Referencing Socrates, Rousseau, Luther, Kant, Hegel, et al, Francis Fukuyama begins Identity with an overview of historical thought regarding identity, dignity, and the surprisingly late in human evolution notion that we were all created equal. This notion quickly led to the rise of liberal democracies, and with the end of the Cold War in the 1980s, Fukuyama himself declared that we had reached “the end of history” (and with liberal democracies actually in retreat around the world today, Fukuyama stresses in a preface that people have misunderstood what he meant by terms like “history” and “the end of”). Fukuyama explains that with the despotism of Communism made obvious to the West by the 1960s, the progressive left abandoned their drive for economic redistribution and put their energy into the Civil Rights, Women's Liberation, and Gay Rights Movements, thereby igniting today's identity wars:
The problem with the contemporary left is the particular forms of identity that it has increasingly chosen to celebrate. Rather than building solidarity around large collectivities such as the working class or the economically exploited, it has focused on ever smaller groups being marginalized in specific ways. This is part of a larger story about the fate of modern liberalism, in which the principle of universal and equal recognition has mutated into the special recognition of particular groups.
Because the spoils of Capitalism made possible within liberal democracies has, over the past couple of decades, disproportionately benefited those at the top and left many millions of people in stagnant or declining conditions, this has created many millions of people who feel like their individual dignity has been disrespected. This “politics of resentment”, writes Fukuyama, has been the catalyst for the Arab Spring, the rise of ISIS, the strengthening of Putin's hold on Russia, Brexit, and the populist movements that have seen right-wing governments elected all around the world (with particular attention paid to Trump's manipulation of identity politics to win the presidency of the United States). 

Fukuyama's answer to this problem is increased nationalism, since that's the level at which we all feel a unifying pride and since only an entity the size of a nation-state can properly protect and care for its own citizens. He makes the case that the EU should have put more effort into creating a unifying “European” identity (and that the EU is a good example of why we'll never have one global government), and that the US and its “creedal” identity (a melting pot of shared values) is the blueprint for all liberal democracies:

This creedal understanding of American identity emerged as a result of a long struggle stretching over nearly two centuries and represented a decisive break with earlier versions of identity based on race, ethnicity, or religion. Americans can be proud of this very substantive identity; it is based on belief in the common political principles of constitutionalism, the rule of law, democratic accountability, and the principle that “all men are created equal” (now interpreted to include all women). These political ideas come directly out of the Enlightenment and are the only possible basis for unifying a modern liberal democracy that has become de facto multicultural.
To achieve an increased nationalism (to replace divisive identity politics), Fukuyama proposes: the elimination of dual citizenships (in the case of the EU, he suggests a single European citizenship); better assimilation of immigrants to a nation's creedal identity; voters' rights only for full citizens; a universal requirement for national service (not necessarily military); and the right for nations to enforce their borders and set criteria for citizenship. This will, apparently, help all citizens of a nation to remember, “Identity can be used to divide, but it can and has also been used to integrate. That in the end will be the remedy for the populist politics of the present.”

After an interesting historical overview for the majority of this book, I'm not ultimately convinced by Fukuyama's easy-sounding remedy for populism; and what might work in the States doesn't sound like it will translate in Canada, which has always prided itself on being the mosaic to America's melting pot; where to not parrot the official line that “diversity is our strength” makes one a pariah.

While the United States has benefited from diversity, it cannot build its national identity around diversity as such. Identity has to be related to substantive ideas such as constitutionalism, rule of law, and human equality. Americans respect these ideas; the country is justified in excluding from citizenship those who reject them.
Well, we in Canada do build our identity around “diversity as such” – not only were we founded as two distinct societies, but further, we encourage immigrant communities to celebrate their heritage throughout successive generations, and every First Nation is supported in efforts to preserve their unique and diverse identities; “assimilation” is the dirtiest of words in Canada (and I rather think it would be the same for the idea of one pan-European citizenship). So, while most of Fukuyama's writing here was interesting enough (but not, I suspect, anything new for those who follow this sort of thing), his “remedy” to identity politics and populism sort of falls flat. Glad I read it, can't widely recommend.