Identity is nothing if not contextual. Salience of a particular aspect of an individual's identity depends highly on the personal and political circumstances in effect at the moment that that (sub)identity is being gauged or measured. Compounding the complications of this relativizing observation is an evolutionary historical paradox: the complexity of human identity increases in proportion to global integration. That is, even as broader levels of choice become available in the marketplace of identity (e.g., Westerner, European, Muslim), higher-order identity adopters are forced to recast, reposition, subsume, sublimate, or repress the localized aspects of their identity. This can be a complex and taxing exercise.

How valid are the so-called universalizing bases of identity? Can there actually be a universal discourse of identity divorced from a specific national, cultural, or civilizational fount? The French colonial enterprise illustrates how easy it is to confuse the supposedly universal for the culturally specific. Doctrines such as assimilation and mission civilisatrice, which articulated France's duty to extend her "superior" language, education, religion and government to less benighted peoples— confused the Gallic trees for the Civilized forest. Rabelais (1494-1553) expressed these sentiments in the context of the natives of the New (i.e., Atlantic) World:

Like a new-born child, we must suckle, nurse, play with them;
like a newly planted tree, we must support and assure them,
protect them from all vagaries, injuries and calamities;
as a person cured of a long illness, we must coddle, save and
restore them.

Later, Descartes (1596-1650) would provide an even more "scientific" (qua philosophical and logical) rationale for the supplanting of indigenous cultures, communication networks, and belief systems with universal (qua French) ones. Remarkably, Cartesian logic justified, in turn, both the enslavement of Africans and their deportation across the Atlantic, and then their later enfranchisement and decolonization. As Hubert Brunschwig wrote in 1949:

French civilization can be given to those who have no other. It was the only path by which the slaves of the West Indies could break out of their intellectual and moral prostration.

The most powerful institutional vestige of this "universalist" French colonial thinking lies in the continued existence of the DOMs (overseas departments, or states) in the Caribbean. Liberty and prosperity are still best afforded to the descendants of the enslaved and colonized, goes the rationale, by their remaining within the French republic.

In light of the above, it is striking how much of the criticism directed against contemporary "American-style" cultural homogenization and economic imperialism—that is, globalization—emanates from this same French intellectual tradition. This critique is indeed apposite; what is remarkable is that the French make it so unself-consciously, either oblivious to, or deliberately silent about, their own nation's previously universalist pretensions. As a transnational movement, la francophonie now positions itself as a defender of endangered secondary [and tertiary] languages and cultures from hegenomic anglophony and americanization. In origin, however, francophonie aspired to the same level of influence and dominance now enjoyed by the American empire.

One of the least formally recognized functions performed by identity is personal empowerment: identification with a group from which one may derive material goods, psychic satisfaction, or political power. In a world constructed on the basis of the nation-state, much of one's sense of personal power (or powerlessness) implicitly derives from one's country of citizenship. Consciously or not, whether vocalized or not, interactions with members of other national communities are invariably underscored, to some extent level, by the relative national power that differentiates the individuals. One may refer to this sense of personal power derived from membership within a given nation-state as Global Self-Confidence (GSC).

One could quantify GSC by using a set of standard measurements. These would combine data on one's country of citizenship with respect to overall GNP and GNP per capita; size, reach, and lethalness of military; average level of educational achievement; and an array of health indicators. On one end of the GSC spectrum will lie the CITUS (citizen of the United States); on the other end, nationals of the weakest and most impoverished nation-states. Individuals with lowest GSC may either accept their unjust fate or choose from a limited range of compensatory strategies. These range from religious retreat to violent protest; some strategies obviously combine the two.

Given the democratic ethos adhering to the universalizing discourses of modernity, citizenship, and globalization, there is an understandable reluctance to admit or acknowledge the existence of GSC. The contemporary, universality doctrine of human equality, upon which these other discourses are in large measure predicated, jibes ill with the reality of a nation-state system that ranges from the hegemonic to powerless. It verges on the taboo to assert that political animals (Aristotle's synonym for human beings) incarnate in their personal identities the overall strength, or weakness, of their country of citizenship. Those with high and low GSC share in the denial of it: the former, out of moral defensiveness; the latter, out of self-esteem protection. Yet who can deny the realities, especially after 9/11, of both CITUS envy and GSC excess?

GSC does not reflect, it goes without saying, the full measure of an individual's worth, power, or self-confidence. To ignore its role within personal identity formation, however, is to deny a fundamental, if morally untenable, facet of 21st century reality.

Ronald Grigor Suny's ACLS paper "Constructing Primordialism: Old Histories for New Nations" contains an excellent example of GSC in action. Suny recounts the trouble in which he found himself in the Republic of Armenia in 1997 as a result of a talk he delivered on "prospects for regional integration" in the South Caucasus. "The thrust of the talk was to question the usefulness of ethno-nationalism… by proposing a more constructivist understanding of nationness in place of the primordialist convictions of the nationalists." The upshot was that Suny was publicly accused, to his face and in print, of being a traitor, a State Department lackey, an oil company agent and (is this worst of all?) "no scholar."

ISuny implies in his paper that he is (also) an Armenian, although whether this is solely an affective identity category or one validated by double nationality goes unsaid. Dual citizenship nuances, of course, the crude notion of GSC as I have laid it out above. For our purposes here, however, it is secondary. What matters is that Suny the scholar travels from Chicago to make his remarks at the American University of Armenia in Erevan that advance an objectivist, Bourdieuian "recognition of the fragmented and contested process that goes into self or group identification" as opposed to "normal… essentialist, often primordialist, naturalized language." He is then surprised at the vehemence of the reaction against him. It does not occur to Suny—any more than it did to me, until I had an analogous experience—that his (our) position as American scholar(s) permits him (us) to make "objectivist" claims as scholar(s) that locally implicated academics cannot. Even as scholars (especially as scholars?) we benefit, however unconsciously, from the global self-confidence provided by our identity—however constructed—as Americans.

IMy equivalent experience (albeit resulting in less discomfort than Suny's) occurred at the University of the French West Indies in Martinique on October 11, 2001. It was the one-month anniversary of 9/11, by which time most of the initial French reaction of solidarity ("Nous sommes tous américains"—"We are all Americans") had already dissipated. My role was to lead a public debate on the immediate implications and probable fallout from the Twin Towers and Pentagon attacks. As a political scientist, I spoke objectively of the inevitable strategic and military responses that any empire would make in light of lethal attacks in its homeland. The audience response was mostly critical and polemical. With difficulty (and perhaps in vain) did I establish my credentials and authority as a political analyst vis-à-vis my American identity. (In retrospect, I imagine the response were I to have reminded the audience that they themselves were the product of a [now-defunct] empire that still superimposed a European national identity upon a largely deported, colonized and forcibly miscegenated African people . Martinicans contest that immediate reality much less than they do the French-mitigated one of American global hegemony. ) Whence derived my naïve expectation (à la Suny) that my scholarly identity would trump my nationally-defined one? GSC.

For sure, Armenian and Martinican identities lie on opposite sides of the (perceived) primordial-constructivist spectrum. (Suny makes the important observation that, however ontologically empty the notion of primordial identity, nationalist intellectuals—not to mention the patriotic masses—do believe in and act upon its validity.) Armenian nationalism epitomizes "essentialist articulations of identity," a "primoridal community that passes continuously through time." (One is tempted to add, "time immemorial.") Martinican identity and peoplehood (I shall soon explain why I eschew the word "nationhood") are, on the other hand, unambiguously the products of European imperialism, slavery, colonialism and post-colonialism. By virtue of the conquest of Caribbean islands in the seventeenth century (and rapid decimation of the indigenous Amerindian population); of African slave trade and West Indian plantation societies of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries; of colonial governance that continued into the first half of the twentieth century; and of a non-sovereign path of decolonization that characterizes Martinique, Guadeloupe, and French Guiana to this day, French West Indian identity has evolved out of, and in reaction to, European (and especially) French policies and actions.

In 2002 the locally elected representatives in Martinique (general council, regional council, senators and deputies) convened in an extraordinary session (Le Congrès). The aim of Le Congrès was to make recommendations, to Paris, that would modify the island's administrative prerogatives and status within the French Republic. (Similar sessions had been conducted in Guadeloupe and French Guiana.) One member, representing the independentist party PALIMA, proposed including in the recommendations a preambular reference to the existence of a Martinican "nation." The amendment was defeated, voted down even by the author of the path-breaking book Les Origines de la Nation Martiniquaise. Ostensibly, the reason was strategic: a (premature) vote in favor of Martinican nationhood might be viewed as a partisan political ploy and likely result in a popular backlash. But this begged the question: why would the population at large react to a declaration of Martinican nationhood as a political gambit rather than an existential reality? The short answer is that the population, economically dependent on their status as a department of France, would fear a declaration of nationhood as a precursor to financial rupture with the Metropole. More complex, but no less true, is that French political worldviews still predominate over West Indian identity. Constitutionally (in both affective and juridical senses of the word), the French (including Martinicans) ill conceive of multiple nations inhabiting the Nation of France.

Even if Martinicans eventually do come to think of themselves as a nation, that will not "essentialize" or "primordialize" their thinking: being descendants of slaves (and East Indian indentured laborers)—and thereby a construct of European history and oppression—already constitutes a major component of local identity (albeit not one that nullifies Frenchhood). Armenians and Martinicans may both have low GSC but they represent fundamentally dissimilar types of national identity. Is there no substantive difference between ethnic groups that propagate "essentialist" and "primordial" descriptions of their collective selves (e.g., Armenians) and those whose historical memories do not allow themselves to (e.g., Martinicans)? With respect to "individuals and citizens maintain[ing] their unique identities… amidst the universalizing discourses of citizenship, modernity, and globalization," are there no advantages accruing to essentialist definitions of self?

Hence, the paradox of primordialism: with regards to preservation of threatened unique identities, essentialism may be ontologically empty whilst instrumentally necessary.

Even where the subject matter apparently intersects their disciplines, historians, sociologists and political scientists (this investigator included) generally pay insufficient attention to the findings of their colleagues in psychology. A "state of the art" glance there might therefore be salutary as we conclude this reflection on identities and identifications in the modern world.

The 2000 edition of the Encyclopedia of Psychology¹ contains separate articles for "Identity," "Ethnic Identity," "Racial Identity," and "Social Identity." It has no entry for national identity, however (except to refer the reader to contributions on "Political Leadership" and "National Characteristics"). Three major theoretical traditions are identified: 1) an Eriksonian intrapsychic approach, emphasizing definition and integration of aspects of the self; 2) a sociologically grounded school combining reference group theory, role theory and symbolic interaction; and 3) social identity theory, emphasizing in-group/out-group relations. Despite expectations that ethnic identity would become less prevalent on account of "mass communication and globalization," two factors have in fact made it more salient: increased migration and "the persistence of intergroup prejudice."

To a large extent, psychological investigations explore the dynamic interpersonal modalities by which individuals construct, preserve, and modify their identities vis-à-vis others. Rather than marvel at the maintenance of unique identities in the face of modernization, globalization, and "discourses of citizenship," psychologists would seem to wonder how social scientists could expect otherwise. What is needed, perhaps, is a closer synthesis of historical-cum-political explanations for identity formation with psychological ones. One fruitful (if vexing!) place to begin might be the psychological penchant for primordialist and essentialist thinking, however illegitimate this may appear, at first blush, to constructivist social scientists. (Suny may be pointing in a similar direction in his implicit endorsement of "the study of emotions and nationalism."²)

1. Published by Oxford University Press for the American Psychological Association. [Back to text.]

2.See reference in his footnote 82. [Back to text.]