The answer to that question requires dissecting what “nationalism” means. Political scientist Benedict Anderson, is popular for, among other things, having defined nationalism which provides a sense of commonality that binds together strangers. He envisions the nation as an “imagined community”.
Who is doing the imagining though? How is it imagined? Can a singular community be formed at all in especially diverse nations? Does the notion of an “imagined” community not make language and messaging the most important part of nationalism?
Nationalism is often associated with the rhetorics of unity and sovereignty, making national security an essential part of it. A singular national identity binds everyone, and claims to represent everyone. It’s almost as if it asks us all, at least for a moment, to forget our other identities and focus on the one identity that unites us with the people of this territorially bounded space which exists in our imagination.
Is nationalism then all about upholding a geographic space? Securing it, protecting it, and possibly bettering it? And does it end up, among other things, being mostly about defining binaries such as “us” and the “other”, or the “protector” and the “protected”? Within these binaries lie the roles that nationalism asks its male citizens to protect, to be patriotic and to fight for the nation while asking women to be proud of these men, to uphold culture, and to stay protected, as women, as wives, sisters and mothers.
At this juncture, it is important to note that I am not talking about In this context, gender is a binary consisting of men and women. It is also about the roles that are assigned to citizens of the nation as a consequence of embodying a particular gender. Now that we have established some essentials of nationalism we come back to some of our initial questions about nationalism. Let us look also at the questions: Who does the imagining and what and how is it imagined? One does not have to look too far, as the answer to these questions is evident in the common popular culture troupe – the male hero figure. In the aftermath of the September 11 attack on the Trade Center towers, America’s Global War on Terror shifted the tone of the global security apparatus. It resulted in the mass production of books, movies and TV shows that are seemingly patriotic, but indirectly, or sometimes very directly, Islamophobic. Ideas of manhood, protection and survival of the nation were interwoven and sustained by a sexualised military culture.
This sexualisation is evident in the portrayal of the ever-so-desirable military man. The darker side to this sexualised military man is the dehumanisation of women and the prevalence of rape as a tool of war. Earlier this year, in light of the ongoing genocide in Gaza, allegations of sexual misconduct and rape of Palestinian women and girls in detention camps were made against Israeli forces. Similar allegations were made against Hamas in their initial attack on Israel. While these cases are under review, the commonality between these allegations is.
The signalling of women’s vulnerability can be noticed in the reportage of the genocide. The common use of “women and children” as a singular category not only infantilises women but is also a very clear suggestion of who is protecting, who is saving the nation, and who is upholding the (not women and children!). Odder still are the constant evocations of motherhood. The grief of mothers is used to garner support for or as justification for the war. What do the mothers do during the war? Do they not have to deal with the daily consequences of living in a war-torn area? Do they not protect themselves and the children? It would seem from the language of war that women wait, mourn and feel pride for the men at war.
Women are not merely boxed into a more passive role within the nationalist narrative is true. However, this line of argument, like the narrative, takes agency away from women and strips their identity down to being victims of hegemonic national identity formulations. It is often forgotten that t women have played an important part both in the military and in peacekeeping activities and initiatives. Have women not led wars and battles around the world throughout history, even if infrequently? And, since World War 1, in large numbers, in non-combat roles? In the Second World War, a large number of women volunteered to serve in combat roles. However, this inclusion of women within these public spheres was largely episodic. They did not derive any real sense of empowerment from this and were in many cases worse off after the wars. Systems of war continue to profit disproportionately from those who are poor and female.
In response to all this, individuals often ask – “Ok, but what can we do? We, individuals, can’t stop these wars.” Yes, it, may be true that particular individuals may or may not be equipped and feel called upon to try to single-handedly stop any war. But each can question narratives, question the language that is used, and question the constant association of violence and manhood with the nation.
I leave the reader with a thought I have had for a while now. Why is criticism of the nation considered anti-national? If critical enquiry is made for betterment, is it not the biggest act of nationalism one can perform? My caveat, and request, are simple. Ask the question Cynthia Enloe, a feminist theorist, asked many years ago – Where are the women?