No Politics Without Identity Politics

“Who are we?” is the starting point of politics.

By guest author Prognome.

Much of what I have to say, I suspect, most readers will already know, if not as explicit knowledge, then at least intuitively. Nevertheless, I believe it is still a crucial point to emphasize for a number of reasons. First, gut intuitions ought to be made clear and explicit when possible. Not only is clarity good in itself, but right-wing identity politics has been demonized for so long; by making its justifications explicit, it can be emphasized within your own mind and normalized in the broader conversation. Second, many of us have ended up in this space coming from either libertarianism or normie conservatism, and these old patterns of thought don’t simply disappear in a day. To paraphrase Jonathan Bowden, the liberalism within you is the enemy. The repeated application of sound reasoning and resolute judgment is what excises old, mistaken beliefs. Finally, most conservatives, i.e., potential allies, quiver in fear at the idea of identity politics. “We don’t do identity politics. Only the Left does identity politics. We’re principled conservatives.” These arbitrary and ingrained prejudices obstruct clear thought and sound judgment, but being able to articulate the mistakes in such reasoning can aid you in radicalizing your friends.

What is politics? Politics is what is done in public — what’s done together — what’s done in the polis. It may seem to follow from this that the fundamental question of politics would then be “What should we do together?” But this is too hasty, for another, more fundamental question must be asked first. Before we can answer “What should we do together?” we must first answer this more fundamental question: “Who are we?”

“Who are we?” is the starting point of politics.

For generations, we have been told that the public sphere ought to be neutral — that there must not be a shared vision of the good, so that everyone may be free to forge his own path. If it is not sufficient to discredit such a doctrine by pointing out that its proponents are consistently the loudest advocates of state indoctrination and ideological uniformity, then observe that such a rule is patently self-contradictory. Consider the activities which contribute to a man’s living a good life: engaging with friends, raising a family, worshiping God. Of course, even in a degenerated space, one can partially participate in these activities — one can share hobbies, find a wife, and pray — but the fulfillment of each of these activities requires not merely a small network of the philosophically aligned but an overarching, shared structure which connects you to even the strangers around you. With a bit of luck and persistence, a man can start a family of his own in the modern age, but the construction of rich, intergenerational ties requires far more: you need a community which shares and reaffirms your projects and which encourages their children to preserve and promote this civilizational project.

The activities which contribute to a flourishing life reach their fulfillment in a collective context. This context is maintained and strengthened when the members therein understand: “This is who we are. This is what we do.”

My liberal friends, when I explain the above to them, tend to have two styles of skeptical response, the first historical and the second ideological. The historical objection comes in two forms: either it suggests that America has long functioned without identity politics — that identity politics is a modern aberration and ought to be rebuffed rather than indulged — or it suggests that Americans have never held a shared identity, and thus to fantasize of one is facile at best or authoritarian at worst.

The response to the first point is to note that people were able to persist without discussing identity politics because the question of identity was already settled. Only when people cease to know who they are does the question of identity become salient. Ideally, the question of identity would be one around which there was no political discussion — the answer would simply be known in the hearts of the people. For a long time, Americans knew who they were, where they belonged, and what they did. They knew what was worth fighting and sacrificing for. Needing to ask the questions which so grip us today would have been fatuous. To suggest that identity politics was lacking in the past is only to emphasize its necessity in the present.

The second version of the historical objection — that America never had a single, unified identity — is true, but it drastically overstates its own case. Indeed, America was pluralistic from the beginning — drawing from many strains of the WASP tradition — but this was a pluralism which accommodated modestly different cultures and lifestyles, incomparable to the modern arrangement of forcing communities from across the globe to melt into a hodgepodge of different holidays and culinary traditions, each deprived of any genuine substance. The past existence of many different flourishing communities is hardly a good argument for the present existence of none.

The ideological objection is the old, liberal claim that individuals ought to be free to pursue their own, authentic projects. Such an objection rests on an immature understanding of freedom and authenticity. The expounders of such an objection have imbibed the propaganda that there is such a thing as neutral institutions, that 20th and 21st century America has been governed by neutral institutions, and that choices made under the auspices of these neutral institutions are free, authentic, and therefore good. Every step here is a mistake. When a smart, young man goes to college, is that a free and authentic decision? His career prospects may be benefitted; he may make good friends and read some interesting books. But the life path of going to college was one that had been drilled into him since elementary school — one that he likely never challenged. On what grounds could we possibly call this life path more authentic than any other?

The liberal accurately observes that, in the past, social pressures encouraged one to care for one’s family and go to church. What the liberal misses is that these modern, “liberated” choices — to leave one’s hometown, sleep around, and work a meaningless corporate job (to say nothing of the “liberated” choice of smoking weed and watching Netflix) — are equally, if not even more so, propped up by a robust social infrastructure. The pursuit of “authentic projects” is scarcely ever a genuine pursuit, but instead a romantic veil thrown over the indulgence of one’s immediate desires. If civilization is equivalent to low time-preference, then the glorification of authenticity — the fetishization of rule-breaking — is nothing short of civilizational suicide.

As a final thought, it is also worth taking a moment to appreciate the scorn inherent in the liberal dogma. A more honest liberal will often readily confess that he does not care about the well-being of the normies, so long as he is free to indulge himself to his heart’s content. This is a truly sinister attitude. It is the duty of the members of the ruling class to steward over their people, not to exploit and disregard them. The liberal would readily sacrifice his neighbor for more cheap imports and fast food. Only when the ruling class and the populace are aligned — when they know who they are, where they belong, and what they do — will we be able to return to a flourishing and organic mode of social organization.