Historians in the 1980s thought that nationalism, and by extension the nation, was dead, overtaken with the cosmopolitanism of an increasingly interconnected world. As anyone with any awareness of present day world politics knows, historians in the 1980s were very, very wrong. The word “nationalism” used to invoke black-and-white photographs of white pointed hoods and burning crosses, Nazis calling for the “extermination” of the Jews and vilifying them as subhuman, part of a bygone era. Now, nationalism’s resurgence means a sea of red Make America Great Again hats, swastika armbands, tiki torches, and for many, the possibility of being violently targeted by hate crimes at their homes, places of worship, and community centers.
But that’s only one kind of nationalism, according to historian Jill Lepore. This America: The Case for the Nation is a slim volume, more of an extended essay than a book, but it highlights the need for a kind of civic nationalism based on rights for all citizens, “no matter their color, religion, or nation of birth.” It is a kind of nationalism not focused on the individual as they are a part of any given nation-state, but as a part of the global community. Lepore argues for a liberal nationalism to counteract the rise of illiberal nationalism, the conferral of rights solely for those of a particular ethnic or geographic origin. The rise of illiberal nationalism is why historians need to return to national histories, as opposed to global or ethnic ones. Should we not, and avoid reckoning with its past, is to allow the demagogues and wannabe authoritarians to distort national history to serve their own ends.
Indeed, the conception of the United States as a nation is unique, birthed out of difference rather than similarity. As a joining of disparate states, Lepore noted the necessity of creating a national mythology to inspire patriotism and unity in the face of resistance by states rights advocates. George Bancroft, the first writer of a major national history of the United States, attempted to “to make America’s founding appear inevitable and its growth inexorable,” partly in an effort to gin up support for manifest destiny. By covering up differences to inspire kinship, it made the United States more similar to the supposedly monolithic origins of the Anglo-Saxons in Britain or the Gauls of France. The pervasiveness of Bancroft’s portrayal weakens liberal nationalism, as it folds more neatly into the competing mythos of a melting pot.
Still, the creation of a national identity never successfully concealed its founding paradox that illiberal nationalists focus on in the hopes that these shameful, xenophobic policies come back to fruition. Lepore’s continual references to America’s founding documents, especially the Constitution, and the ideals they espouse, is juxtaposed with the ongoing exclusion of certain groups. Oftentimes it was newly naturalized American citizens, “themselves immigrants and the children and grandchildren of immigrants” that viewed others who came to the United States to be “forever foreigners.” Those same citizens participated in debates that ranged from allowing suffrage for Black men born within US borders or admitting Asiatic immigrants into the country. By declaring the equality of mankind despite initially granting citizenship solely to “free white persons,” American national identity became a conflict in its own right.
Lepore repeatedly brings up the concerns of ethnic groups; she mentions Indian nations and the question of their sovereignty, ranging from the “forced march of the Cherokee in what came to be called the Trail of Tears” to advocating for “honor[ing] the sovereignty of native nations,” while also tackling the thorny issues of immigration quotas for Asiatic immigrants and naturalization for former slaves. However, she doesn’t fully commit to exploring them, moving on to another topic almost as soon as she brings them up. She contrasts the conflict in the 1830s between sectionalists, who defended states’ rights, and nationalists, who advocated for increased federal power, with the broader problems involving “the conquest of lands held for ages by indigenous peoples” and “the existence of people within the United States who were… held as property,” which is then quickly cast aside to return to the affirmation of national identity. Matters of gender and class are occasionally inserted; Virginia Woolf is quoted and its connection to Marx briefly mentioned. Beyond a few more glancing references, that is the maximum extent to which Lepore focuses on. Gender expression and sexuality are missing entirely. While those qualities are not as transparently linked to national identity as race and immigration status, it’s a curious omission. The mentions Lepore does include are a reminder she herself is overlooking the “actual, brutal matters at hand” that she chastises many past historians for ignoring.
Current and recent social tensions are similarly overlooked. Lepore does quote Obama and his appeal to multiculturalism, as well as the backlash his presidency caused that culminated in the election of Trump and his populist xenophobia. Yet she totally ignores major events as far back as the Los Angeles race riots in 1992 to the rise of internet based alt-right groups in the past decade, which fueled bursts of violence like the Unite the Right rally in Charlottesville, Virginia. These events have had major impacts on how certain groups in the United States view themselves in the context of the nation, and to overlook them is to overlook what is most relevant to redefining American national identity.
This America certainly evokes a hopeful, if simplistic, picture of the future. Despite the rising factionalism and increasing tensions in the United States, Lepore remains optimistic throughout the book, ending with a call to action that, unsurprisingly, reads very similarly to the language of the Declaration of Independence or the Constitution. It is inspiring to read that she advocates for “dedication to equality, citizenship, and equal rights, as guaranteed by a nation of laws.” She even includes a passing mention of the need to “honor the sovereignty of native nations” and a history that acknowledges “what W. E. B. DuBois called the hideous mistakes.“ What she lacks, however, is a plan to achieve it.