What is a Nation?
This is the final part of a conference (What is a Nation?) held
by Ernest Renan at the Sorbonne on March the 11th, 1882. In this conference
Renan presents his original idea of what constitutes a nation: a common heritage
and a personal willingness to share that heritage.
To be part of a nation, for the human being, depends « neither of his race nor his language, nor of his religion, nor of the course of rivers nor of the direction taken by mountain chains. » It is the outcome of a personal voluntary choice. Being this the case, for Renan « A nation's existence is ... a daily plebiscite. »
And in this formulation we find all the originality of Renan's thinking on this matter.
A nation is a soul, a spiritual principle.
Two things, which in truth are but one, constitute this soul or spiritual principle. One lies in the past, one in the present. One is the possession in common of a rich legacy of memories; the other is present-day consent, the desire to live together, the will to perpetuate the value of the heritage that one has received in an undivided form.
Man, Gentlemen, is not an improvisation. The nation, like the individual, is the culmination of a long past of endeavours, sacrifices, and devotions. Of all cults, that of the ancestors is the most legitimate, for the ancestors have made us what we are. A heroic past, great men, glory (by which I understand genuine glory), this is the social capital upon which one bases a national idea.
To have common glories in the past and to have a common will in the present;
to have performed great deeds together, to wish to perform still more - these
are the essential conditions for being a people. One loves in proportion
to the sacrifices to which one has consented, and in proportion to the ills
that one has suffered. One loves the house that one has built and that one
has handed down.
The Spartan song “We are what you were; we will be what you are” is, in its simplicity, the abridged hymn of every patrie.
More valuable by far than common customs posts and frontiers conforming to strategic ideas is the fact of sharing, in the past, a glorious heritage and regrets, and of having, in the future, a shared programme to put into effect, or the fact of having suffered, enjoyed, and hoped together. These are the kinds of things that can be understood in spite of differences of race and language. I spoke just now of 'having suffered together' and, indeed, suffering in common unifies more than joy does. Where national memories are concerned, griefs are of more value than triumphs, for they impose duties, and require a common effort.
A nation is therefore a large-scale solidarity, constituted by the feeling of the sacrifices that one has made in the past and of those that one is prepared to make in the future. It presupposes a past; it is summarized, however, in the present by a tangible fact, namely, consent, the clearly expressed desire to continue a common life. A nation's existence is, if you will pardon the metaphor, a daily plebiscite, just as an individual's existence is a perpetual affirmation of life. That, I know full well, is less metaphysical than divine right and less brutal than so-called historical right. According to the ideas that I am outlining to you, a nation has no more right than a king does to say to a province: 'You belong to me, I am seizing you.' A province, as far as I am concerned, is its inhabitants; if anyone has the right to be consulted in such an affair, it is the inhabitant. A nation never has any real interest in annexing or holding on to a country against its will. The wish of nations is, all in all, the sole legitimate criterion, the one to which one must always return.
We have driven metaphysical and theological abstractions out of politics.
What then remains? Man, with his desires and his needs. The secession, you
will say to me, and, in the long term, the disintegration of nations will
be the outcome of a system which places these old organisms at the mercy
of wills which are often none too enlightened. It is clear that, in
such matters, no principle must be pushed too far. Truths of this order are only
applicable as a whole in a very general fashion. Human wills change, but
what is there here below that does not change? The nations are not
something eternal. They had their beginnings and they will end.
A European confederation will very probably replace them. But such is not the law of the century in which we are living. At the present time, the existence of nations is a good thing, a necessity even. Their existence is the guarantee of liberty, which would be lost if the world had only one law and one master.
Through their various and often opposed powers, nations participate in the common work of civilization; each sounds a note in the great concert of humanity, which, after all, is the highest ideal reality that we are capable of attaining. Isolated, each has its weak point. I often tell myself that an individual who had those faults which in nations are taken for good qualities, who fed off vainglory, who was to that degree jealous, egotistical, and quarrelsome, and who would draw his sword on the smallest pretext, would be the most intolerable of men. Yet all these discordant details disappear in the overall context. Poor humanity, how you have suffered! How many trials still await you! May the spirit of wisdom guide you, in order to preserve you from the countless dangers with which your path is strewn!
Let me sum up, Gentlemen. Man is a slave neither of his race nor his language,
nor of his religion, nor of the course of rivers nor of the direction
taken by mountain chains. A large aggregate of men, healthy in mind and warm
of heart, creates the kind of moral conscience which we call a nation. So
long as this moral consciousness gives proof of its strength by the sacrifices
which demand the abdication of the individual to the advantage of the community,
it is legitimate and has the right to exist. If doubts arise regarding its frontiers,
consult the populations in the areas under dispute. They
undoubtedly have the right to a say in the matter. This recommendation
will bring a smile to the lips of the transcendants of politics, these infallible beings
who spend their lives deceiving themselves and who, from the height of their
superior principles, take pity upon our mundane concerns.
“Consult the populations, for heaven's sake! How naive! A fine example of those wretched French ideas which claim to replace diplomacy and war by childishly simple methods.”
Wait a while, Gentlemen; let the reign of the transcendants pass; bear the scorn of the; powerful with patience. It may be that, after many fruitless gropings, people will revert to our more modest empirical solutions. The best way of being right in the future is, in certain periods, to know how to resign oneself to being out of fashion.