Reclaiming Patriotism is an excellent and thought-provoking book. Its author Amitai Etzioni, one of the founders of communitarian thinking, needs no introduction. His books, The Spirit of Community: Rights Responsibilities and the Communitarian Agenda (1993) and The New Golden Rule: Community and Morality in a Democratic Society (1996), are cornerstones of this movement. When other political philosophers and sociologists were tilting toward liberal individualism, Etzioni kept the communitarian spirit alive. True to his preaching, Etzioni is not only a theoretician but also a social activist. In the early 1990s he established the Communitarian Network as a vehicle to disseminate his ideas and introduce them into the public discourse, and it remains active today.
His new book follows in the same spirit and ends with a call for action. Sketching a new social contract that would allow for the revival of social and political trust, Etzioni asks us to realize that we are entering a “post affluent” era: indeed, this is one of the most important messages of the book. It looks the meager reality of the twenty-first century straight in the eye and admits that scarcity is here to stay. Dreams of economic progress and material prosperity are fading, replaced by a pursuit of nonmaterialistic sources of happiness and satisfaction. There could not be a more relevant description of a century in which most of us (the 99%) are going to have less.
The coronavirus pandemic turned this call into a necessity. The “C generation” is going to search for protection and salvation, and they will not be looking to the global arena for help. Instead, they will be turning to their own nation-state that has suddenly become more relevant to them than ever. When the pandemic erupted, borders closed one after the other, and people were forced to realize that their prospects of receiving proper medical treatment and sufficient economic support depend on their nation-state. The test of economic success is no longer the pace of growth or the percentage of national debt (by these standards we are all losers now), but the level of national investments and the ability to kickstart the market, increase buying power, and create new jobs.
The “invisible hand” has vanished. We are back to the age of the active nation-state that intervenes internally and externally to offer better jobs and life prospects for its workers. Under these conditions, nationalism can no longer be ignored. Nevertheless, Etzioni shies away from using the term “nationalism,” which, I argue, is a mistake. The book’s motto, taken from Charles de Gaulle, stresses the difference between nationalism and patriotism: “Patriotism is when the love of your country comes first; nationalism, when hate for people other than your own comes first.” In reality, the difference between these two concepts is far smaller than claimed, and Etzioni’s own book is the best evidence of this. Once he makes a claim for patriotism, Etzioni diverts to nationalism every step of the way: his major focal points are the nation-state and the national community. The title of the introduction “Good Nationalism—Saving Democracy through National Community Building” and the ending paragraph of the book speak for themselves: “The patriotic movement needs to achieve more than merely reuniting us by reinforcing the national community to contain—but not suppress—differences. It must figure out what we are all seeking to accomplish together, above and beyond our varying personal and subgroup pursuits, and what kind of future we envision for the nation” (p. 175). No nationalist could have phrased it better.
The tendency to identify good nationalism with patriotism is widespread, but its theoretical grounds are flimsy. Nationalism and patriotism are family members: both are “affinity-bound obligations”; namely, obligations based in particular relationships. Grounded in love, parenthood, friendship, and national loyalty, such obligations could be taken to the extreme. Obsessive lovers are probably as dangerous as extreme nationalists, and oppressive parents can bring great harm to their children as much as zealot nationalists can bring great harm to their nations. Yet we do not have different concepts for good and bad parents or for moderate and obsessive lovers. Why should we have one for good or bad nationalists?
Some may think this is a petty semantic debate. I beg to differ. By surrendering the notion of nationalism into the hands of extremists, we deprive ourselves of its extraordinary recruiting power. Right-wing conservative leaders like Donald Trump are quick to harness nationalism for their purposes. “A globalist,” Trump argues “is a person who wants the globe to do well, not caring about our country so much…. we’re putting America first…. I’m a nationalist, okay? I’m a nationalist.”
But what about us members of the progressive camp? I am a nationalist. I dare say Etzioni and other defenders of the American spirit, supporters of Black Lives Matters, and guardians of the Constitution are also nationalists (hidden nationalists). Attempts to override nationalism, Etzioni admits, “will continue breeding alienation and populism in the foreseeable future” (p. 142). So, rather than hiding nationalism, patriots should openly endorse the national stance and join the struggle to redefine the greatness of nations. In other words, rather than worrying why Trump is a nationalist, we should worry why many progressives weaken themselves by claiming they are not.
Loyal oppositions are taking to the streets all over the globe. In India, Israel, Ukraine, France, and the United States, people march waving their national flags as a statement of belonging. Much in the spirit of Etzioni’s recommendations, they aspire to establish a new social contract. For Etzioni, this contract is grounded in a set of untidy compromises between rights and duties, personal freedoms and national security, as well as between consumerism and the good life.
This leads to Etzioni’s most important point: we ought to change not only our politics but also our preferences, seeking happiness and spiritual contentment rather than accumulating material commodities and wealth. People should limit their future consumption and use their free time and resources to gain contentment from other sources. Namely, contentment will be derived from sources that are neither labor nor capital intensive, but are ones that are sustainable and more amenable to distribution. These include cultivating intimate relations and engaging in public service (e.g., volunteering) and transcendental activities (p. 175).
Can we rewrite a new social contract when social schisms are deepening and social trust continues to decline? I would like to end with a word of optimism. The social, health, and economic crises characteristic of the beginning of the twenty-first century force more and more people to realize they are on the side of the vulnerable, exposed to dangers they cannot manage on their own. This kind of vulnerability brings them closer together. Today’s needy (the infected, the elderly, and the unemployed alongside low-income workers), as well as the needy of the future, are exposed to an endless list of unknown dangers (from global warming to future pandemics). Searching for a decent level of security, they seek to establish a post-affluent coalition. Its essence is simple. As Etzioni writes, it “ensures that everyone has their basic needs well met” (p. 175). Under these unusual conditions the traditional divide between right and left is dead. Leaders seek to converge on patriotism, restrained consumerism, and environmentalism to create a livable society.
Will such a convergence dominate the future politics of the United States? No responsible analyst will take the risk of predicting what will happen, but some signs of convergence are emerging. In June 2020, the New York Times, well entrenched in neoliberalism, deviated from its economic credo and published a series of articles under the title “The America We Need,” calling for a more humane capitalism. Businessmen and mega-companies are calling for a move from a shareholders’ to a stakeholders’ economy, advocating a certain degree of protectionism. Joe Biden’s campaign reflected these new attitudes, urging people to “Buy American,” create more jobs, and protect the environment. The coronavirus and its effects may have achieved what many good theoreticians failed to do: it has changed the nature of social, moral, economic, and political discourse. For those who wish to step into this new era of post-affluence with an arsenal of good ideas, Etzioni’s book is a great place to start.
