Prevaricate Nationalism

An examination of the intersections of nationalism and culture in the modern Middle East

Nationalism is a modern idea: it explains the world today and holds the answers to the cultural clashes between the East and West. It is a rallying call inspiring people to become a people under a hardcoded name. Civilization embodies the set of cultural norms and functions that is considered most advanced, yet there is no distinct separation between a nation and such a civilization. That is, a nation and the ideas associated with it are nothing but fiction, yet this fiction is a powerful one: it garners the support of a people compelled by a common history that need not exist, and it creates opportunities to unify under the pretenses of an imaginary threat to established cultural practices. However, the constructs of the modern nation-state are an inherently new idea in the context of greater human history. While the origins of the nationalist idea began in the West, the idea was late to reach the Middle East, which had its own subset of cultural diversity. Culture expresses itself through the actions of society, but also through architecture, institutions, and collective action. Contemporary Middle Eastern cultural products like artwork and film include flavors of both satirical and literal Western cultural mementos, while their Western counterparts include perturbed ideas of cultural art, clothing, and other forms of expression that are inherently “Eastern.” The defining characteristic that splits these cultural groups into a nation is simply the idea that such a construct exists. While nationalism is the soul of a nation in a sense, the hard, modern boundaries that constitute the state in today’s terms are nothing but fabrication, and these fictitious borders have the serious consequence of establishing cultural prejudices based on shared norms and way of life disguised as an international hierarchy.

Literature is a common medium used to express cultural ideas, and the introduction of publishing and the printing press in the Ottoman Empire fostered a new dynamic between the literate population and circulating cultural thought in the late 19th century. This was especially true in the Ottoman era, where a collection of Arabic, Greek, Turkish, Persian, and several other languages dominated the publishing scene. While describing popular literature across the multitude of languages, Strauss highlights that “translated literature and the favourite authors were essentially the same for Turks, Greeks, Armenians and even Bulgarians and Jews… mutual influences were not infrequent” (51).^[1] Strauss outlines the role of translation in the context of a “modern” Ottoman identity, and this mix of languages provided the foundation for cultural heterogeneity. Translation was key in creating a society where popular culture was mutually intelligible regardless of a work’s original language, and a greater than infrequent “mutual influence” from many of these cultures was a stepping stone for a single Ottoman identity enveloped within an abundance of layers. Literature is a cultural medium that poses difficulty in transmission especially between the educated elite and the illiterate. Therefore, art and other forms of visual art provided a better way to transmit the shared lie of nationalism: the shared national consciousness.

While the term “art” tends to focus on the visual application of human creativity, civilization adopts art in all facets of living. Architecture is one major–yet often forgotten–way through which culture is conveyed, and it nonetheless constitutes a unique artform in its own right. In her article “Ottoman Expressions of Early Modernity and the ‘Inevitable’ Question of Westernization,” Hamadeh includes a painting of the pavilion of Nesatabad in the foreground and the main palace of Hatice Sultan at Defterdar Burnu, Istanbul in Figure 1 (qtd. in Hamadeh 33)^[2]. The designs and structure in the painting demonstrate the permeability of art in the architectural context. While set in the Ottoman Empire, there is a mixture of art forms in the design and structure of buildings. The palace places subtle hints to European culture integrated in the structure; however, these hints become more and more pronounced with closer examination. The pavilion placed in the foreground has a triangular roof gable and windows resembling the grandeur of a European palace. Below each window is a defined molding, and statues line the first level of the pavilion, creating an injection mirroring each window above it. Each statue is enclosed within a specific geometry, encompassed around an elliptical edifice that emphasizes the importance of these monuments. Highlighting the significance of the statues this way is a romantic concept, calling back ideas from Renaissance era Europe; it is an idea that calls for the emphasis of humanity and human-made art. The mapping between each window and figure underneath establishes a sense of symmetry around the building, and it would not seem out of place in a European setting. Finally, a concrete column mold borders the water in an auspiciously Roman style. The pavilion as a whole embodies a European character; however, the surroundings of the palace carry with it a less European demeanor. The mix of building style immediately leads to a mix of cultural themes in the buildings, demonstrating that culture is not impermeable, and its porous boundaries can be exploited through art.
The basis for cultural unity and national identity was perfectly set in Egypt during a period known as al-Nahda, or rebirth. Arab civilization had been central to European colonialism due to proximity and economic exploitation, yet “the fact that Egypt was heir to such a rich and varied tradition of civilizations merely lent urgency to their quest to create the new imagined community” (Ostle 186).^[3] Using Egypt as his example, Ostle strikes at the core of the Arab nationalist idea in his claim: many Arab provinces and territories were victims of European occupation. Specifically in the Egyptian case, nationalism arose through civilization–years of historical and varied cultural histories culminated in a shared national history. 19th and 20th century colonialism in the form of a strong British military and economic presence served as a historical pinpoint in driving nationalism, yet a more subtle and equally forceful pinpoint was that of culture. Throughout Egypt, artists were able to morph and redirect their foci to highlight nationalist struggles as a common people. They made the Arabs of Egypt Egyptians: members of an Egyptian state that each shared in the same cultural history, invented or otherwise. Ostle cites “The Renaissance of Egypt” (Nahdt Masr), as one such major cultural work (186).^[4] The statue features a mixture of Egyptian cultural history: it features a woman removing her hijab with her left hand, and her right hand softly rests on the head of the Sphinx. The sculpture epitomizes the spirit of an Egyptian realization of history: it turns cultural history into a national one by culminating ancient pharaonic history and modern Arab history into a single structure. Simultaneously, it appears to be a critique of both cultures. The woman featured in the statue places her hand upon the Sphinx, a spiritual guardian of sorts and one viewed with high reverence by ancient Egyptians. Her hand placement speaks decadent volumes in the sense of her respect (or lack thereof) for such a spiritual figure. The woman is also removing her hijab, an act in stark contradiction with the norms of modern Islamic society. While the statue as a whole comes together as a representation of an extended Egyptian history, the individual actions can be viewed as a stern critique. This work was one of many that ignited a firestorm of critical art sourced during the al-Nahda. It sparked critical thought among Egyptians who began to find a sense of identity in a shared cultural heritage, one that could be challenged and adapted to push a historical narrative.

Perhaps the most critical fracture between nationalism and culture is the artificial boundaries it creates between different societies and their ways of life. Two prominent scholars–French liberal Ernest Renan and Muslim political activist, Jamal al-Din al-Afghani–offer conflicting evidence that demonstrates these superficial fringes. While Renan was a French liberal, he praised Western democracy and civilization, citing the sophistication of society as the means for advancement in general welfare and broader social progress. In a critical discussion, Norman outlines Renan’s Eurocentric argument, stating “they [the Persians] were subjected to a more ‘primitive peoples’ (i.e. the Mongols and the Turks) who adhered to the Islamic dogma” (696).^[5] Renan immediately establishes a dichotomy between the Persian people and “a more primitive peoples.” This direct reference to Islam immediately asks Renan’s audience to conjure an imagined, hierarchical separation between a scientifically advanced civilization and one based on the principles of Islam. Renan’s basis for such a separation is the empirical differences that exist between each culture–“Eastern and Western.” Separation of people into East and West (and by extension, Eastern and Western states) reduces the issue to a matter of culture: a way of life in some states is worse or better based on a practiced cultural enterprise. Nationalism is integral in the development of this superficial cultural hierarchy, and Renan alludes to this inferiority of a seemingly far away “other” to strengthen the infamous, invisible wall between East and West. Furthermore, Renan writes to a Western audience, feeding into his audience’s sense of superiority over an ominous “other” group, one defined simply as different by the former. In this sense, nationalism erects barriers between peoples without firm justification or historical reference.

Nationalism undoubtedly has a unifying ability: millions of people unrelated by faith or background can come together under a unified label. It is complete fiction built around borders conjured by the imagination. This is particularly true in the case of Arab nationalism, an example that shows a unique alignment between cultural hegemony and colonial suppression. Arab nationalism is in part due to a shared language and religion; however, a great part of this desire for independence lies in Arab colonial history and pride. Humans have the ability to imagine and invent the incredible and inimaginable, and nationalism is no exception. It gives two strangers of different backgrounds, faiths, and understandings of the world a reason to come together–it is a formalization of shared beliefs under a single entity. However, it also has damaging and antagonizing effects in the context of Middle Eastern colonial history. Of course nationalism is an inherently imaginary idea, but why should that mean it cannot be real? Nationalism is indeed a spiritual and imagined principle that alone has no positive or negative connotation. The tendency for nationalism to become a vehicle for exclusion has been the crux of explaining perceived national and cultural hierarchies. The key to greater understanding lies in better understanding nationalism in a historical context. There is nothing inherently wrong with the principles of self-determination or national spirit, but like all ideas, it must be fostered through the lens of a greater historical and cultural context.