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10.7312 Rena17430-013
10.7312 Rena17430-013
10.7312 Rena17430-013
WHAT IS A NATION?
(QU’EST-CE QU’UNE NATION?, 1882)
I
propose to analyze with you an idea that seems clear, but lends itself
to the most dangerous misunderstandings. The forms of human soci-
ety are exceedingly varied. The vast agglomerations of men in China,
Egypt, or the most ancient Babylonia; the tribes of the Hebrews, the
Arabs; the city-states of Athens or Sparta, the assemblies of disparate
lands after the fashion of the Achaemenid Empire,1 the Roman Empire,
the Carolingian Empire; the communities without a fatherland, preserved
by a religious bond, such as those of the Israelites and the Parsees; nations,
such as France, England, and most modern European independent entities;
confederations after the fashion of Switzerland and America; kinships,
such as those that race, or rather language, establishes between the differ-
ent branches of the Teutons or the different branches of the Slavs—here
are types of groupings, each of which exists, or has existed, and cannot
be confused with another except with the direst of consequences. At the
time of the French Revolution, it was believed that the institutions of
small independent cities, such as Sparta and Rome, could be applied to
our large nations of thirty to forty million souls. Nowadays, a far graver
mistake is made: race is confused with nation, and a sovereignty anal-
ogous to that of truly existing peoples is attributed to ethnographic, or
rather, linguistic groups. Let us attempt to reach some precision on these
difficult questions, in which the slightest confusion regarding the mean-
ing of words at the beginning of the argument may lead in the end to the
248W H AT IS A NATION ?
Since the end of the Roman Empire, or rather since the dismemberment
of Charlemagne’s empire, Western Europe appears to be divided into
nations, some of which, in certain epochs, have attempted to exercise a
hegemony over the others, without ever succeeding in a lasting fashion.
It is unlikely that anyone will achieve in the future what Charles V, Louis
XIV, and Napoleon I failed to do. The founding of a new Roman Empire
or of a new Carolingian Empire has become an impossibility. The division
of Europe is too great for any attempt at universal domination not to be
met very quickly with a coalition that would force the ambitious nation
back to its natural limits. A kind of equilibrium is established for the long
run. Centuries from now, France, England, Germany, and Russia, despite
the vicissitudes they will have encountered, will still be individual his-
torical units, the essential pieces of a checkerboard, whose squares con-
stantly vary in importance and size but are never wholly confused with
each other.
Nations, understood in this fashion, are something fairly new in his-
tory. Antiquity was not acquainted with them; Egypt, China, or ancient
Chaldea were in no way nations. They were herds led by a Son of the Sun or
by a Son of Heaven. There were no Egyptian citizens, any more than there
were Chinese citizens. Classical antiquity had republics, municipal king-
doms, confederations of local republics, empires; it hardly had nations in
the sense in which we understand them. Athens, Sparta, Sidon, Tyre were
small centers of admirable patriotism; but they were cities with a relatively
limited territory. Gaul, Spain, and Italy, prior to their absorption within
the Roman Empire, were collections of tribes, often allied with each other
but possessing no central institutions or dynasties. The Assyrian Empire,
the Persian Empire, and the Empire of Alexander were not fatherlands,
either. There never were any Assyrian patriots; the Persian Empire was a
vast feudalism. No nation traces its origins back to Alexander’s colossal
W H AT IS A NATIO N? 249
adventure, fruitful though its consequences were for the general history
of civilization.
The Roman Empire was much closer to a fatherland. Roman domina-
tion, at first so harsh, was soon loved for the immense benefit of putting
an end to war. It was a great association, a synonym for order, peace, and
civilization. In the last days of the empire, there was among the lofty souls,
the enlightened bishops, and the educated a real sense of the “Roman
peace,” as opposed to the threatening chaos of barbarism. But an empire
twelve times larger than present-day France cannot form a state in the
modern sense. The split of east and west was inevitable. The attempts at an
empire in Gaul in the third century2 did not succeed. It was the Germanic
invasion that introduced into the world the principle that later served as a
basis for the existence of nationalities.
What in fact did the German peoples accomplish, from their great
invasions in the fifth century to the last Norman conquests in the tenth?
They had scarce impact on the racial stock; but they imposed dynasties
and a military aristocracy upon more or less extensive parts of the old
Western Empire, which took the names of their invaders. Hence, France,
Burgundy, Lombardy; subsequently, Normandy. The dominance rapidly
assumed by the Frankish Empire reestablished the unity of the west for
a period; but this empire was irreparably shattered around the middle
of the ninth century; the Treaty of Verdun3 traced divisions that were
immutable in principle and, from then on, France, Germany, England,
Italy, and Spain set off on paths, often circuitous and through a thou-
sand vicissitudes, to their full national existence, such as we see it blos-
soming today.
What, in fact, characterizes these different states? It is the fusion of the
populations that compose them. In the countries we have listed, there is
nothing analogous to what you will find in Turkey, where the Turk, Slav,
Greek, Armenian, Arab, Syrian, and Kurd are as distinct today as they
were on the day of the conquest. Two crucial circumstances contributed to
this result. First, the fact that the Germanic peoples adopted Christianity
as soon as they underwent any prolonged contact with the Greek or Latin
peoples. When the conqueror and the conquered have the same religion
or, rather, when the conqueror adopts the religion of the conquered, the
Turkish system, the absolute distinction between men according to their
religion, can no longer occur. The second circumstance was the forgetting,
25 0 W H AT IS A NATION ?
as was the case for France; sometimes by the direct will of the provinces,
as was the case with Holland, Switzerland, Belgium; sometimes it has
been the work of a general consciousness, belatedly victorious over the
caprices of feudalism, as was the case in Italy and Germany. A deep rea-
son for existence always presided over these formations. Principles, in
such cases, always emerge through the most unexpected surprises. In our
time, we have seen Italy unified by its defeats, and Turkey demolished by
its victories. Each defeat advanced the cause of Italy; each victory ruined
Turkey; for Italy is a nation, and Turkey, outside of Asia Minor, is not. It
is France’s glory to have proclaimed, through the French Revolution, that
a nation exists of itself. We should not be displeased that others imitate
us. The principle of nationality is our own. But what, then, is a nation?
Why is Holland a nation, when Hanover or the Grand Duchy of Parma
are not? How can France continue to be a nation, when the principle that
created it has disappeared? How is it that Switzerland, which has three
languages, two religions, and three or four races, is a nation, while Tus-
cany, for instance, which is so homogeneous, is not? Why is Austria a state
and not a nation? In what ways does the principle of nationality differ
from that of races? These are points that a thoughtful mind would wish to
have settled, to be at peace with itself. The affairs of this world are hardly
decided by this sort of reasoning, yet diligent men wish to bring some
reason into these issues and resolve the confusions in which superficial
minds are entangled.
II
the narrow strip of the Treaty of Verdun was indeed the personal acquisi-
tion of this house. During the epoch in which these annexations were car-
ried out, there was no idea of natural frontiers, or of the rights of nations,
or of the will of provinces. The union of England, Ireland, and Scotland
was likewise a dynastic fact. Italy only tarried so long before becoming
a nation because, among its numerous reigning houses, none, prior to
our century, turned itself into the center of unity. Strangely, it was from
the obscure island of Sardinia, scarcely an Italian land, that it assumed a
royal title.∗ Holland, which created itself by an act of heroic resolution, has
nonetheless contracted an intimate marriage with the House of Orange,
and would run real dangers the day in which this union is compromised.
Is such a law, however, absolute? Undoubtedly not. Switzerland and
the United States, which have formed themselves as conglomerates of
successive additions, have no dynastic basis. I shall not discuss the ques-
tion as regards France. It would be necessary to read the secrets of the
future. Let us simply say that this great French royalty had been so highly
national that, on the morrow of its fall, the nation was able to endure
without it. Anyway, the eighteenth century had changed everything. Man
had returned, after centuries of abasement, to the ancient spirit, to self-re-
spect, to the conception of his rights. The words ‘fatherland’ and ‘citizen’
had recovered their meaning. Thus, the boldest operation to have been
conceived in history could be brought to completion, an operation one
might compare with the attempt, in physiology, to make a body from
which one had removed the brain and the heart live in its original identity.
It must therefore be admitted that a nation can exist without a dynas-
tic principle and even that nations that have been formed by dynasties can
separate from such dynasties without ceasing to exist because of it. The old
principle, which only takes the rights of princes into account, can no longer
hold; apart from dynastic rights, there are also national rights. Upon what
criterion, however, should one base this national right? By what sign should
one recognize it? From what tangible fact can it be made to derive?
I.—from race, many say with self-assurance. The artificial divisions,
resulting from feudalism, from princely marriages, from diplomatic con-
gresses, are passing. What remains firm and fixed is a population’s race.
This is what constitutes a right, a legitimacy. The Germanic family, for
∗ The House of Savoy owes its royal title only to the acquisition of Sardinia (1720).
25 4W H AT IS A NATION ?
∗ This point has been developed in a lecture, whose analysis can be read in the bulletin of
the Association scientifique de France, March 10, 1878.
25 6 W H AT IS A NATION ?
epoch, let us say fifteen or twenty thousand years ago, while the zoological
origin of humanity is lost in incalculable darkness. What is known philo-
logically and historically as the Germanic race is no doubt a full distinct
family within the human species. But is it a family in the anthropological
sense of the term? Certainly not. The emergence of a Germanic individ-
uality occurred only a few centuries before Jesus Christ. Ostensibly, the
Teutons did not emerge out of the earth at this epoch. Prior to this, min-
gled with the Slavs in the great indistinct mass of the Scythians, they did
not have their separate individuality. An Englishman is definitely a type
within the whole of humanity. Now, the type of what is quite improperly
called the Anglo-Saxon race∗ is neither the Briton of Julius Caesar’s time,
nor the Anglo-Saxon of Hengist’s time, nor the Dane of Canute’s time, nor
the Norman of William the Conqueror’s time; it is the result of it all. A
Frenchman is neither a Gaul, nor a Frank, nor a Burgundian. He is what
emerged from the cauldron in which, under the direction of the king of
France, the most diverse elements have fermented together. An inhabitant
of Jersey or Guernsey differs in no way, with regard to origins, from the
Norman population of the nearby coast. In the eleventh century, even the
sharpest eye would not have seen the slightest difference on the two sides
of the Channel. Trifling circumstances made it so that Philip Augustus9
did not seize these islands together with the rest of Normandy. Separated
from one another for almost seven hundred years, the two populations
have become not only strangers to one another but wholly dissimilar.
Race, as we historians understand it, is therefore something that is made
and unmade. The study of race is crucial for the scholar concerned with
the history of humanity. In politics, it has no applications. The instinctive
consciousness that presided over the tailoring of the map of Europe took
no account of race, and the leading nations of Europe are nations of essen-
tially mixed blood.
The fact of race, originally crucial, thus becomes increasingly less
important. Human history differs essentially from zoology. In it, race is
not everything, as it is among the rodents or the felines, and one does
∗ The Germanic elements in the United Kingdom are not much more considerable than
they were in France when it had possession of Alsace and Metz. The Germanic language
has dominated in the British Isles simply because Latin had not wholly replaced the
Celtic idioms, as had occurred in Gaul.
W H AT IS A NATIO N? 257
not have the right to go through the world sizing up people’s skulls, then
taking them by the throat and saying: “You are of our blood; you belong
to us!” Beyond anthropological characteristics, there is reason, justice, the
true, and the beautiful, which are the same for all. Beware, this ethno-
graphic politics is not certain. Today you use it against others, later you
will see it turn against you. Is it certain that the Germans, who have raised
the banner of ethnography so high, will not see the Slavs in their turn
come to analyze the names of villages in Saxony and Lusatia, search for
any traces of the Veleti or of the Obotrites,10 and demand recompense for
the massacres and the mass enslavements that the Ottos11 inflicted upon
their ancestors? It is good for everyone to know how to forget.
I am very fond of ethnography; it is a science of rare interest; but, as
I would wish it to be free, I wish it to be without political application.
In ethnography, as in all forms of study, systems change; it is the pre-
condition of progress. Would states then change as well along with sys-
tems? States’ frontiers would follow the fluctuations of science. Patriotism
would depend upon a more or less paradoxical dissertation. One would
come say to a patriot: “You were mistaken; you shed your blood for such-
and-such a cause; you thought you were a Celt; not at all, you are a Teu-
ton.” Then, ten years later, you will be told that you are a Slav. So as not
to distort science, we should exempt it from giving an opinion on these
problems, in which so many interests are involved. Rest assured that, if
one tasks it with providing elements for diplomacy, one will catch it many
times in the act of being complaisant. It has better things to do; let us sim-
ply ask it to tell the truth.
II.—What we have just said of race must also be said of language. Lan-
guage invites unity; it does not impose it. The United States and England,
Spanish America and Spain speak the same language and do not form a
single nation. Conversely, Switzerland, so well made, since it was made
with the consent of its different parts, has three or four languages. There
is something in man that is superior to language: the will. The will of
Switzerland to be united, despite the diversity of its idioms, is a fact of
far greater importance than a similarity of language often obtained by
vexatious methods.
An honorable fact about France is that it has never sought to obtain
the unity of language by coercive measures. Can one not have the same
sentiments and the same thoughts, and love the same things in different
25 8 W H AT IS A NATION ?
existence of the social group. The social group was an extension of the
family. Religion and the rites were family rites. The religion of Athens was
the cult of Athens itself, of its mythical founders, of its laws, of its cus-
toms; it implied no dogmatic theology. This religion was, in the strongest
sense of the term, a state religion. One was not Athenian if one refused
to practice it. It was, fundamentally, the cult of the Acropolis personified.
To swear on the altar of Aglauros∗ was to swear that one would die for the
fatherland. This religion was the equivalent of what the act of drawing
lots13 or the cult of the flag are for us. Refusing to participate in such a
worship was what refusing military service would be in our modern soci-
eties. It was to declare that one was not Athenian. From another angle,
it is clear that such a religion had no meaning for someone who was not
from Athens; also, there was no attempt made to proselytize foreigners
to force them to accept it; the slaves of Athens did not practice it. Things
were much the same in some small republics of the Middle Ages. One was
not considered a good Venetian if one did not swear by Saint Mark; one
was not a good Amalfitan if one did not set Saint Andrew higher than all
the other saints of paradise. In these small societies, what subsequently
would be persecution or tyranny was legitimate and of no more conse-
quence than our custom of wishing the father of a family happy birthday
or a happy New Year.
What was true in Sparta, in Athens, was already no longer the case
in the kingdoms that issued from Alexander’s conquest, and especially
not in the Roman Empire. The persecutions of Antiochus Epiphanes,14
to compel the east to worship Olympian Jupiter, and those of the Roman
Empire, designed to maintain a supposed state religion, were a mistake,
a crime, a veritable absurdity. In our time, the situation is perfectly clear.
There no longer are masses that believe in a perfectly uniform manner.
Each person believes and practices in his own fashion, what he can, as he
wishes. There no longer is a state religion; one can be French, English, or
German, while being Catholic, Protestant, Jewish, or practicing no reli-
gion. Religion has become an individual matter; it concerns the conscience
of each person. The division of nations into Catholic and Protestant no
longer exists. Religion, which, fifty-two years ago, played so substantial
a part in the formation of Belgium, 15 preserves all its importance in the
∗ Aglauros, who gave her life to save her fatherland, represents the Acropolis itself.
26 0 W H AT IS A NATION ?
heart of each person; but it has ceased almost entirely to be one of the
grounds that define the frontiers of peoples.
IV—The community of interests is assuredly a powerful bond between
men. Do interests, however, suffice to make a nation? I do not think so.
Community of interests brings about trade agreements. Nationality has a
sentimental side to it; it is both soul and body at once; a Zollverein16 is not
a fatherland.
V—Geography, or what are called natural frontiers, certainly plays
a considerable part in the division of nations. Geography is one of the
essential factors in history. Rivers have led races; mountains have brought
them to a halt. The former have favored historical movements, the latter
have restricted them. Can one say, however, as some parties believe, that
a nation’s frontiers are written on the map and that a given nation has the
right to assign itself what is necessary to round off certain contours, in
order to reach such a mountain and such a river, to which one accords a
sort of limiting faculty a priori? I know of no doctrine that is more arbi-
trary or more fatal. With it, one can justify any violence. And first of all,
is it the mountains or the rivers that form these supposedly natural fron-
tiers? It is indisputable that mountains separate, but rivers tend rather
to unify. Moreover, not all mountains can divide states. Which are the
ones that separate, and which are not? From Biarritz to Tornea,17 there is
no one estuary more suited than another to serving as a boundary. Had
history so decreed, the Loire, the Seine, the Meuse, the Elbe, or the Oder
could just as easily as the Rhine have had this quality of being a natural
frontier, which has incited so many infractions of the fundamental right,
the will of men. One speaks of strategic grounds. Nothing is absolute; it
is quite clear that many concessions must be made to necessity. But these
concessions should not go too far. Otherwise, everybody will claim mili-
tary expediency, and there will be war without end. No, it is no more soil
than race that makes a nation. The soil provides the substratum, the field
of battle and of labor; man provides the soul. Man is everything in the
formation of this sacred thing that is called a people. Nothing material
suffices for it. A nation is a spiritual principle, the outcome of the pro-
found complications of history, a spiritual family, not a group determined
by the configuration of the earth.
We have now seen what elements are not sufficient to create such a
spiritual principle: race, language, interests, religious affinity, geography,
W H AT IS A NATIO N? 261
III
A nation is a soul, a spiritual principle. Two things that, in truth, are but
one constitute this soul, this spiritual principle. One is in the past, the
other in the present. One is the possession in common of a rich legacy
of memories; the other is present consent, the desire to live together, the
will to perpetuate the value of the heritage that one has received in an
undivided form. Gentlemen, man cannot be improvised. The nation, like
the individual, is the culmination of a long past of efforts, sacrifices, and
devotion. The cult of ancestors is the most legitimate of all; our ancestors
have made us who we are. A heroic past, great men, glory (I mean the gen-
uine kind), this is the capital stock upon which one bases a national idea.
To have common glories in the past, a common will in the present; to have
performed great deeds together, to wish to perform still more, these are
the essential preconditions for being a people. One loves in proportion to
the sacrifices to which one has consented, and to the ills that one has suf-
fered. One loves the house that one has built and passes down. The song
of the Spartiates—“We are what you were; we will be what you are”—is in
its simplicity the abridged hymn of every fatherland.
In the past, a heritage of glory and regrets to share, in the future, a
similar program to put into effect; to have suffered, rejoiced, and hoped
together: here is something more valuable than common customs houses
and frontiers conforming to strategic ideas; here is something that can be
understood in spite of differences of race and language. I spoke just now
of “having suffered together;” indeed, suffering in common unites more
than joy does. Where national memories are concerned, grief is of more
value than triumphs, for it imposes duties, it requires a common effort.
A nation is therefore a vast solidarity, constituted by the sentiment of
the sacrifices one has made and of those one is yet prepared to make. It
presupposes a past; it is, however, summarized in the present by a tan-
gible fact: consent, the clearly expressed desire to continue a common
life. A nation’s existence is (if you will pardon the metaphor) an everyday
26 2W H AT IS A NATION ?