How nationalism and globalism can coexist Wanis Kabbaj
So two weeks ago, I searched
the word “nationalist” on Twitter.
The results were quite colorful,
with expressions like,
“Emboldened Racist Moron,” –
(Laughter)
“White Supremacist Idiot,”
“Fascist Sock Puppets,” –
(Laughter)
“Orwellian, Hitlerian, Terrifying.”
I then searched the word “globalist”
and got things like,
“Socialist Sell-Outs,”
“Disgusting Corporate Propaganda,”
“Elitist Financial Overlords,”
“Ruthless Cosmopolitan Rats.”
(Laughter)
Even by social media standards,
the words are cruel and disgusting.
But they reflect the intensity
of one of the most fundamental questions
of our times:
Nationalism or globalism –
what is the best path forward?
This question impacts
everything we care about:
our cultural identity,
our prosperity,
our political systems –
everything – the health
of our planet – everything.
So on the one hand, we have nationalism.
Collins defines it as
a “devotion to one’s nation,”
but also, a “doctrine that puts
national interests
above international considerations.”
For nationalists, our modern societies
are built on national grounds:
we share a land, a history, a culture,
and we defend each other.
In a big and chaotic world,
they see nationalism as the only
sensible way to maintain social stability.
But alarmed globalists warn us:
self-centered nationalism
can easily turn ugly.
We’ve seen it with 20th-century fascisms:
bloody wars, millions of deaths,
immeasurable destruction.
On the other hand, we have globalism.
The Oxford Living Dictionary
defines it as:
“the operation or planning
of economic and foreign policy
on a global basis.”
For nationalists, globalism
is rapidly deconstructing
what our ancestors took decades to build.
It’s like spitting on our soldiers' tombs;
it’s eroding our national solidarities
and opening the doors
to foreign invasions.
But globalists make the case
that reinforcing our global governance
is the only way to tackle
big supernational problems,
like nuclear proliferation,
the global refugee crisis,
climate change or terrorism
or even the consequences of superhuman AI.
So we are at the crossroads,
and we are asked to choose:
nationalism or globalism?
Having lived in four continents,
I’ve always been interested
in this question.
But it took a whole new level
when I saw this happening:
the biggest surge in nationalist votes
in Western democracies
since World War II.
All of a sudden,
this isn’t theory anymore.
I mean, these political movements
have built their success with ideas
that could mean, down the road,
losing my French citizenship
because I’m North African
or not being able to come
back home to the US
because I come from
a Muslim-majority country.
You know, when you live in a democracy,
you live with this idea that
your government will always protect you,
as long as you abide by the laws.
With the rise of national populism,
despite being the best citizen I can,
I now have to live with the idea
that my government can hurt me
for reasons I cannot control.
It’s very unsettling.
But it forced me to rethink
and rethink this question
and try to think deeper.
And the more I thought about it,
the more I started
questioning the question.
Why would we have to choose
between nationalism and globalism,
between loving our country
and caring for the world?
There’s no reason for that.
We don’t have to choose
between family and country
or region or religion and country.
We already have multiple identities,
and we live with them very well.
Why would we have to choose
between country and world?
What if, instead of accepting
this absurd choice,
we took it on ourselves to fight
this dangerous, binary thinking?
So for all the globalists in the audience,
I want to ask:
When I say the word “nationalist,”
what image comes to your mind?
Something like this?
Believe me, I think of that, too.
But I’d like you to remember
that for most people,
nationalism feels more like this.
Or maybe like that.
You know, it’s that thing inside you
when you accidentally watch
an obscure Olympic sport on TV –
(Laughter)
wait –
and the mere sight of an unknown athlete
wearing your national colors
gets you all excited.
Your heartbeat goes up,
your stress level goes up,
and you’re standing in front of the TV
and screaming with passion
for that athlete to win.
That’s nationalism.
It’s people happy to be together,
happy to belong to a large
national community.
Why would it be wrong?
You know, globalists,
you may think of nationalism
as an old, 19th-century idea
that is destined to fade.
But I’m sorry to tell you
that the facts are not on your side.
When the World Values Survey
asked more than 89,000 people
across 60 countries
how proud they felt about their country,
88.5 percent said “very proud”
or “quite proud” –
88.5 percent.
Nationalism is not
going away anytime soon.
It’s a powerful feeling
that, according to another study,
is a strong predictor
of individual happiness.
It’s crazy, but your happiness is more
correlated with national satisfaction
than with things you would expect,
like household income
or your job satisfaction
or your health satisfaction.
So if nationalism makes people happy,
why would anybody take it away from them?
Fellow globalists, if you are like me,
you may be attached to globalization
for humanistic reasons.
And you may take great joy
in some of its accomplishments since 1945.
After all, major regions of the world
have been exceptionally peaceful;
extreme poverty rates around
the globe are trending down;
and more than two billion people,
most notably in Asia,
show spectacular improvements
in their standards of living.
But studies also show
that globalization has a dark side.
And left on the side of the road
are hundreds of millions of people
in Western middle classes
with anemic income growth
for more than two decades,
possibly three decades,
according to some studies.
We cannot ignore
this elephant in our room.
If anything, our collective energy
would be better used
finding ways to fix this aspect
of globalization,
instead of fighting this polarizing battle
against nationalism.
So now, the nationalists in the audience,
I have some crusty,
nonbinary nuggets for you.
(Laughter)
When I say the word “globalist,”
what comes to your mind?
Out-of-touch, one-percent plutocrats?
(Laughter)
Or maybe the heartless,
greedy Wall Street type, right?
Or maybe people like me,
with multiple origins,
living in a big, cosmopolitan metropolis.
Well, you remember that World
Values Survey that I mentioned earlier?
It showed another fascinating finding:
71 percent of the world population
agreed with the statement,
“I am a citizen of the world.”
Do you know what it means?
Most of us are simultaneously
proud of our country
and citizens of the world.
And it gets even better.
The citizens of the world in the survey
show a higher level of national pride
than the ones that rejected that label.
So once and for all, being a globalist
doesn’t mean betraying your country.
It just means that you have
enough social empathy,
and you project some of it outside
your national borders.
Now, I know that when I dig
into my own nationalist feelings,
one of my anxieties versus
the globalized world
is national identity:
How are we going to preserve
what makes us special,
what makes us different,
what brings us together?
And as I started thinking about it,
I realized something really strange,
which is that a lot of the key ingredients
of our national identities
actually come from outside
our national borders.
Like, think of the letters
that we use every day.
I don’t know if you realize,
but the Latin script, the Latin
alphabet that we use
has its origins thousands of years ago,
near the Nile River.
It all started with a cow just like this,
that was captured by a scribe
into an elegant hieroglyph.
That hieroglyph was transcribed
by a Semite in the Sinai
into the letter aleph.
Aleph traveled with Phoenicians
and reached the European shores in Greece,
where it became alpha,
the mother of our letter A.
So that’s how an Egyptian cow
became our letter A.
(Laughter)
And same thing with the Egyptian house
that became bet, beta and B.
And the Egyptian fish
that became daleth, delta and D.
Our most fundamental texts
are full of Egyptian cows,
houses and fish.
(Laughter)
And there are so many other examples.
Take the United Kingdom and its monarchy.
Queen Elizabeth II?
German ancestry.
The mottos on the royal coat of arms?
All written in French,
not a single word of English.
Take France and it’s iconic Eiffel Tower.
The inspiration?
The United States of America –
and I don’t mean Las Vegas,
I mean 19th-century New York.
(Laughter)
This was the tallest building
in New York in the mid-19th century.
Does it remind you of something?
And you may think of China
as a self-contained civilization,
protected behind its Great Wall.
But think twice.
The Chinese official ideology?
Marxism, made in Germany.
One of China’s biggest religions?
Buddhism, imported from India.
India’s favorite pastime?
Cricket.
I really love this quote from Ashis Nandy,
who said, “Cricket is an Indian game
accidentally discovered by the British.”
(Laughter)
So these are good reminders that a lot
of what we love in our national traditions
actually come from previous
waves of globalization.
And beyond individual symbols,
there are whole national traditions
that could not have existed
without globalization.
And the example that comes to my mind
is a world-beloved national tradition:
Italian cuisine.
My friends, if you ever have a chance
to go to a superauthentic
Italian restaurant
that only serves ancient Roman recipes,
my advice for you is: don’t go.
(Laughter)
You’d get very, very disappointed.
No spaghetti, no pasta –
that really started in Sicily
in the eighth century,
when it was under Arabian rule.
No perfect espresso,
no creamy cappuccino –
that came from Abyssinia
via Yemen in the 17th century.
And of course,
no perfect pizza Napoletana –
how would you make it without
the tomatoes of the New World?
No, instead, you would be served
probably a lot of porridge,
some vegetable – mostly
cabbage – some cheese,
and maybe if you’re lucky,
the absolute delicacy of that time –
mmm, perfectly cooked fattened dormice.
(Laughter)
Thankfully, it was not a close tradition
preserved by fanatic watchdogs.
No, it was an open process,
nourished by explorers, traders,
street sellers and innovative home cooks.
And in many ways,
globalization is a chance
for our national traditions to be
questioned, regenerated, reinterpreted,
to attract new converts
to stay vibrant and relevant over time.
So just remember this:
most of us nationalists
in the world are globalists,
and most of us globalists
in the world are nationalists.
A lot of what we like
in our national traditions
come from outside our national borders.
And the reason we venture
outside our national borders
is to discover these other
national traditions.
So the real question should not be
to choose between
nationalism and globalism.
The real questions is:
How can we do both better?
It’s a complex question
for a complex world
that calls for creative,
nonbinary solutions.
What are you waiting for?
Thank you.
(Applause)