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Imagine There’s a Country: Inverting John Lennon to Create Nations

Posted by Zlotnick on January 27, 2007

Despite being a Beatles fan, I will freely admit that John Lennon was wrong on some things: at no point during Beatlemania did the Fab Four become bigger than Jesus, and to “imagine there’s no countries” is actually fairly hard to do– particularly after reading excerpts from Anderson’s theory on the creation of nations through cultural imagination. Imagining countries is easy to do, especially having read Anderson. Drawing upon Western historical roots that include the religious community, dynastic realms, and constructions of time and citing the importance of new information technologies, Anderson describes the “cultural artefacts that have aroused such deep attachments” of nationality and nation-ness that stemmed from “spontaneous distillation of a complex ‘crossing’ of discrete historical forces,” a functional definition that can help frame our own thoughts on contemporary nationality.

Anderson’s basic argument, while thought-provoking, seems to contradict itself when discussing the origins of nationality. Here is the balance of Anderson’s thesis:

“I will be trying to argue that the creation of these artefacts towards the end of the eighteenth century was the spotaneous distillation of a complex ‘crossing’ of discrete historical forces; but that, once created, they became ‘modular,’ capable of being transplated, with varying degrees of self-consciousness, to a great variety of social terrains, to merge and be merged with a correspondingly wide variety of political and ideological constellations” (Anderson 4).

Phew. At first, I was not going to criticize Anderson’s style– and while I will withhold judgment on the length of this sentence, Anderson’s style here does obfuscate his intent. Quite simply: where are the subjects? Nationality and nationness come from a “spontaneous distillation of historical forces,” but who is distilling these forces? The masses? The elites? The media? The same lack of subject afflicts Anderson’s clauses regarding the transplantation of a modular concept of nationality and the merger of nationality with “political and ideological constellations.” While this is, quite literally, a close reading of Anderson’s argument, it is important to consider just who is doing the work in creating nationality, as the producer has just as much effect on the product as the product (in this case, imagined nations) does on future producers.

While Anderson refuses to express it explicitly, he implies, through his focus on pbulishing, that the media played a central role in distilling nationness from historical forces. Perhaps of particular use for our class is Anderson’s examination of the role of the newspaper in promoting common cultural memory. The “newspaper as a one-day bestselling book,” to borrow Anderson’s metaphor, managed to weave a narrative of the outside world, one that readers of the same publication were likely to adopt as a “fictitious reality”– an “imagination grounded in everyday life (34-36). As newspapers and their successors, the news networks, dwindle in subscribers and viewers (at least in the United States), the common imagination of the outside world that these forces create loses its hegemony. Blogs, international news, instant communication technology such as messaging and email: all of these sources fracture the formation of an imagined community on a national scale, leaving in its wake a decentralized confederation of imagined sub-communities.

T.J. Jackson Lears has little to worry about; his essay on cultural hegemony does not turn Antonio Gramsci into the “Marxist you can take home to mother” (unless your mother is a cultural theorist). That distinction still belongs to Lennon, whose radical desire for a Nationless, Godless, Humanist Utopia finds its way into the popular culture of seemingly providential America everywhere from the soft rock music piped into dentists’ offices to the ceremonies of the Olympic Games. However, Lears’ discussion of Gramsci’s notion of “divided consciousness” resonates even more so today, particularly given the de-unification of media in the United States. With working-class Americans failing to form routine national consensus since the end of WWII, one of the outgrowths of a worsening divide in class consciousness may be an decreased ability or desire to imagine a national community. Perhaps post-nationalism will be (or has already begun to be) the 21st century’s own “spontaneous distillation” or existing historical forces.

5 Responses to “Imagine There’s a Country: Inverting John Lennon to Create Nations”

Zlotnick Says:

Sorry, everyone: in an attempt to get fancy and place a formatted block quote in my original post, it appears that I have edited out two paragraphs of the post. I will edit the post to reflect my original attempt.

Collins Says:

When Anderson states, “Nation-ness is the most universally legitimate value in the political life of our time,” it certainly seems fitting in this particular moment in history, with the sole world superpower at war and loss of lives occurring daily for all involved. A lot of his essay on nations and nationalism explain why people today feel such a deep connection to the United States (or their particular nation) and are blindly patriotic. It makes me wonder: do people know the history of why they are/should be so proud to be an American? Do they understand the “cultural systems” that nationalism stems from, according to Anderson? Does the everyday American know why s/he wears red, white and blue on the Fourth of July? These answers of course depend on which individual you ask, but I believe that the majority of people do not understand the history of nations and why such a deep feeling to their imagined political community, so much so that it makes people willingly fight and die for their country. As Anderson states, “the nation is always conceived as a deep, horizontal comradeship. Ultimately it is this fraternity that makes it possible, over the past two centuries, for so many millions of people, not so much to kill, as willingly to die for such limited imaginings”(7). This certainly begs the question, what are these deep attachments people feel to a nation, and who is responsible for instilling them?

Anderson mentions the significance of Gutenberg’s invention of the printing press in streamlining information and maximing production of books and allowing for languages to emerge and bring people together. These first European states were even formed around there “national print-languages” and thus nations had “finite boundaries.” Although today nationalism is still strong, and newspapers (esp the NYT and Washington Post with large readerships) certainly still have an inclusive effect, I think Zlotnick is right to say that the Internet and technological innovation such as advanced cell phones and blackberries, internet pages (such as the one we blog on) and online forums all bring people closer together than ever. Never has it been easier for “strangers” to meet on an online community and have real conversations and affect each others lives in small ways or very meaningful ways. Just knowing that it is so easy to be close to comrads in a nation makes people feel that there is a deeper connection and a reason to fight for our nation.

Ruppert Says:

I would like to take up Greg’s question about where agency lies in the creation of nationalist thought. I agree with his analysis that the media is primarily responsible for creating conditions in which imagining nations is particularly fruitful. Indeed, Anderson states in the last line of chapter 2: “Nothing perhaps more precipitated this search, nor made it fruitful than print-capitalism, which made it possible for rapidly growing numbers of people to think about themselves, and to relate themselves to others, in profoundly new ways.” (P. 36) However, clearly the people reading and consuming the print media have a central role in actually doing the imagining. Reading Anderson’s article, I am not convinced that nationalist thought necessarily follows the proliferation of newspapers or the creation of the novel. Anderson discusses the multitude of other historical factors which contributed to creating conditions favorable for the rise of nationalism. Anderson, however, does not spend much time explaining the people who actually started to do the imagining. His understanding nationalism seems to be very one sided in that not much time is spent thinking about who actually does the imagining.

Shaw Says:

I’m going to jump on the bandwagon (although it might have already left by now) and say that I also disagree in Anderson’s emphasis in unpacking imagined communities. I think that he did an excellent job of walking us through a historical perspective, but the human element was missing somewhat. While he walks us through the “Foucauldian sense of abrupt discontinuities of consciousness,” there is no sense of the overwhelming human need to belong to something. The nation serves many purposes, but I would argue that the foremost of these is to give its members the idea that they are all in something together, that they are taking part in a wider endeavor. We find out about the various ways of bringing people together, but we don’t see the people who actually do this, and we don’t see why this need exists in the first place. Then again, that point could have been in there, and I just got lost in all of the muck.

That being said, I think that Anderson’s points are not without value. It is of course important to think about the forces that bring people together. Still, it would be nice to see where these forces come from.

Appenfeller Says:

I think perhaps we’re expecting more than we’re supposed to. The details of exactly who does the distilling are unimportant to me. The point is more that we look to nationalism the same way that people look to religion: for a sense of their “relationship with the cosmos.” Marx said that religion is the opiate of the masses, and it almost looks as if Anderson is trying to say the exact same thing, though replacing ‘religion’ with ‘nationality.’Though I agree that Anderson fails to discuss the role of the masses in imagining their own community, I don’t think that was the point of this particular reading assignment. Lears picks up the slack by suggesting that the distillation is done by the dominant culture within a nation state, and nationalism is born of a submission into this hegemonic imagination. He then evaluates the class conflicts that result, and how the same people (the people that Anderson ignores, to address Ben’s complaint) would vie for the ability to create that same nationalism.