The most important characterization of this book is that it speaks to our time. Democracies are in crisis; national societies are torn apart by divisions along ethnic, racial, and class lines. Various groups view each other with hostility. Dealing with the other side amounts to treason, paralyzing politics and inviting right-wing demagogues. Tamir’s public intellectual tract (based on her 1995 scholarly book, Liberal Nationalism) provides a powerful way to address these predicaments. (I wrote these lines just before the coronavirus news broke. They hold even more now.)
Over the last several years, nationalism has made a comeback in countries around the world. In Tamir’s telling, this revival is the result of a backlash to the rise of globalization, growing out of the widening chasm between the elites and “the vulnerable.” After the first half of the twentieth century, the elites concluded that nationalism is destructive; they hence promoted globalization. However, Tamir notes that the elites neglected to realize that a purely international outlook cannot provide people with the community they require. Additionally, the vulnerable have not experienced the benefits of globalization, instead facing only its costs, including competition for scarce jobs, the challenges associated with integrating newcomers into their communities, and the realization that an education is no longer a guaranteed pathway to a good life. Tamir posits that the nationalism being expressed by vulnerable people is a rational reaction to their experiences with globalization, and she calls on the elites to rethink their attitude of moral superiority toward the vulnerable who embrace nationalism. Furthermore, Tamir holds that nationalism is not inherently evil—indeed, it is an essential part of the maintenance of a liberal democratic society. She recommends that the elites and the vulnerable forge a new social contract that entails the use of the state for major social transformations. It is not clear, however, why she believes the elites will prefer this course over resorting to authoritarian means, as they are doing in many democracies.
Tamir takes what I consider to be a strong liberal communitarian position, one that rejects the authoritarian communitarian view that individuals are cells of a larger body, whose standing is derived merely from their contributions to the communal whole. Individual rights and communal responsibilities are both basic moral principles: neither trumps the other and both must be respected.
Tamir’s starting point is the loss of nation-states’ legitimacy amidst waning commitments to the common good and growing fears of overzealous nationalism and the world wars it fueled. A new set of beliefs arose that Tamir refers to as globalism. Globalism holds that “borders are an unnecessary interruption, a hurdle blocking the free flow of capital, skills, and wealth” (p. 35). This ideology is favored by the people Tamir calls “globetrotting elites,” who “are citizens of the world and would not like any national affiliation to be forced on them” (p. 101).
The new globalist faith, however failed to replace nationalism, because it cannot provide for people’s basic psychological need to belong to a community. The nation is Tamir’s community of choice, because it is the one that commands the state, which is needed to bring about the social changes she favors. Tamir is critical of voluntarism, a core liberal principle, because it disconnects people from the communities into which they were born and in which they matured and wove their social life.
Tamir draws four lessons from 20 years of globalism: (1) When political systems retreat and allow markets to dominate, this leads to a social and economic breakdown, promoting high, ever-rising inequality and its disruptive effects; (2) as international institutions and global corporations increase their power, democratic governments weaken; (3) social fractures and political distrust—tribalism—are accentuated by widespread dissatisfaction and hopelessness; and (4) the schism between politics and culture prevents states from harnessing creativity and allows economic exploitation to infiltrate culture.
Other developments—such as automation, the rise of social media, and domestic concentrations of economic power—also account for the effects Tamir notes. However, she surely is correct that globalization is a major culprit.
Tamir holds that restoring nationalism as the core of our civic faith will support regimes that are liberal and democratic. Nationalism can provide the kind of social glue and meaning many modern societies have lost. Grounding it in mutual responsibilities derived from “things we have in common—norms, traditions, ways of life and habits of the heart, a common past, and a desire for a better future—will tighten the social fabric and make it more resilient” (p. 173). However, bringing back nationalism has costs: “meaningful communities are, by their very nature, appealing to some and exclusionary for others” (p. 157). Refusing to abandon nationalism, Tamir argues, “Acknowledging that some sacrifices must be made in order to allow democratic states the ability to be politically and culturally engaging is an important political lesson” (p. 157). One of the great merits of Tamir’s analysis is that it recognizes that societies cannot be designed based on one principle, that they face competing demands that cannot be fully reconciled. That means that both liberals and community-minded nationalists must make some concessions for the liberal democratic society to thrive.
Many have worried about the extreme kinds of nationalism, which are “affiliated with xenophobia, racism, misogyny, and anti-Semitism” (p. 181) and have lent support to authoritarian regimes. However, Tamir points out that virtually any ideology can be pushed to the extreme. At the same time, she asserts, “The civic version of nationalism offers an insufficient, too abstract and legalistic answer.… Most of all, [it] offer[s] a very thin base for social and political cooperation” (p. 165). She is correct in observing that there is no way to avoid the thick, particularistic values of national communities—which are essential to our social well-being in this historical stage—if liberal democracies are to flourish again.
Tamir holds that we need a new nationalism, “a cross-class coalition, giving individuals worthwhile reasons to work together to promote the common good, securing a more just distribution of risks and opportunities” (p. 166). Four steps must be taken to keep the new nationalism in check. First, although it is important to prioritize one’s own country, doing so should not stem from an attitude of superiority. The rights of every individual and nation must be respected. Second, it is essential for nations to protect the rights of minorities. Third, “risks and opportunities must be distributed in just and transparent ways” (p. 180). All policies should seek to rein in the privileged and lift up the vulnerable. Finally, those who subscribe to the new nationalism should promote shared pride and optimism among their fellow nationals. Critics may hold that these are fine sentiments but ask how can one get many millions of Trumpists to see the light.
Determining the right approach to immigration provides a case study of Tamir’s ideas. She notes that all immigration policies limit those who can enter a nation, and she believes that these limits are essential to maintaining liberal democracies, both politically and socially, though she would grant exceptions for refugees and asylum seekers. (Tragically, the number of immigrants in these categories may exceed what many nations tolerate.) She cites research that shows that rising diversity leads to more nationalistic tendencies and adds that “people rightly wish that social changes will be moderated and managed.” Therefore, she suggests, “Rather than asking who is for or against diversity, maybe it’s time to stop and think not in for and against terms but in terms of degrees” (p. 164). This is strong medicine for most liberals, who tend to avoid the subject of limiting immigration, but one they may well have to swallow.
Tamir proposes the development of “a new social contract” in which the state will take major action to promote social and economic equality. She writes, “Social policies like Medicare for all, a living wage, free tuition for public colleges, a federal jobs guarantee, greater intervention and regulations of corporate management, and closure of tax havens are going to become the order of the day” (p. 176). She posits that implementing these policies will require that the elites see that nationalism can be a moral force for good that fuels widespread social justice at home.
Tamir seems to believe that a compelling narrative of the kind she provides will lead elites to accept the sacrifices they must make for the new social contract to work. I agree that narratives are important; however, they need to be augmented with a social force, one that Tamir does not identify. Marx’s narrative targeted blue-collar workers and raised their awareness of themselves as a distinct class, the proletariat, which, in turn, is the force that drives history. Another way to proceed is to form a new combination of existing social forces. When Tony Blair took control of the British Labour Party, it appealed mainly to blue-collar workers. He removed nationalization and other socialist elements from its platform, thus gaining the support of white-collar and IT workers, the new middle class that previously voted Tory. It is unclear which social force will carry Tamir’s agenda.
Especially difficult questions, left unaddressed, are the following: How much should one expect the elites to be willing to surrender in order to buy social peace and a renewed sense of community? What if they are only willing to make some concessions, such as trimming inequality, banning legal discrimination, and expanding the welfare state, but oppose Medicare for all and are not open to addressing micro-aggressions, transgender rights, and other cultural issues? Should the vulnerables accept such a social contract or…? I fear Tamir is expecting a great deal from the enlightened elites; one needs to consider our next steps if they are willing to face the new social facts but are not ready to support an almost Bernie Sanders-like agenda.
One may argue that Tamir sees the new social force in resurgent nationalism itself. However, as we see in Turkey, Hungary, Poland, Russia, China, and India, among others, that nationalism tends to be authoritarian. Hence, these questions: What will make nationalism enlightened—and how much can we build merely on new beliefs? Tamir designed a beautiful vessel; it needs an engine.
I am often asked, How can one have a major effect on society, indeed on history? When I respond by suggesting that this is a rather easy question because there is only one answer, this tends to surprise people. As I see it, the one and only way to achieve truly transformative social change is to launch or join a social movement. Examples include the various incarnations of movements for civil rights, women’s rights, workers’ rights, environmental protection, and national liberation. To advance Tamir’s well-charted platform, we need to form a patriotic movement centered around love of country, not hatred of others.
