An ethical treatisea in which Amartya Sen expounds his theory of social identity.
JOHN M. ALEXANDER AND R. VIJAYA SANKARFascism itself can only be turned away if all those who are outraged by it show a commitment to social justice that equals the intensity of their indignation.
- The Algebra of Infinite Justice Arundhati Roy
If intolerance and narcissism are connected, one immediate and practical conclusion might seem to be: we are only likely to love others more if we learn to love ourselves a little less.
- "Nationalism and Toleration" Michael Ignatieff
WITHOUT falling into the fallacy of reductionism that Amartya Sen himself seeks to overcome, we can try to construe his theory of identity as rationalistic humanism. Essential elements of this theory were at first outlined in the little booklet Reason Before Identity (1999), which Sen delivered as a Romanes Lecture at Oxford University in 1998, but a more fully fleshed-out account is now developed in the ethical treatise Identity and Violence: The Illusion of Destiny (2006). Sen's theory is rationalistic insofar as it assigns a crucial role, or even a primacy of place, to the capacity of human beings to think critically, reason and make appropriate choices in deciding who they are and what they want to identify with. It is not that such an account denies that there are certain `given' elements over which the individual in question has no or only a narrow set of possibilities for choice - one's skin colour, mother tongue, kin, community and culture, for instance. Yet, what it emphasises is the social and political construction process that goes on in identity formation, in the formation of our loyalties and commitments, and in what we like to include and exclude as being part of ourselves. For that matter, underlying even most of what we generally regard as unalterable aspects of our being is the normative value that is imputed to them by human perception, beliefs and actions. The fact of belonging to a particular linguistic community, caste, race, ethnic group or religion might most probably be the thing over which individuals themselves had little say, but the ascription of hierarchy and stereotypes and the assertion of one's uniqueness and individuality at the expense of another's are what are within the reach and deliberation of reasonable people.
Sen's theory of identity, however, is not a pure, abstract rationalism since it blends rationalism with humanism. It is founded on the principle that under reasonably normal circumstances and suitable economic and democratic institutions people tend to uphold human values and choose peaceful means over violence in realising their objectives. Even in the most trying and insecure of situations such as communal unrest, social tensions, genocides and civil war, people can put their best selves forward and display the best of other-regarding intentions. Moral saints and heroes are esteemed by ordinary mortals precisely because they defend human values and display a virtuous character in the hardest of times.
There are several contenders to this moral point of view. While some are easy to respond and retort to, the most realistic and serious ones will continue to pose a challenge, tempering optimism and a plausible positive view of human nature.
People once thought that as societies become modern and secularised, scientific outlook would replace the religious world view. People also had hoped that when countries increasingly respect secular constitutions and the rule of law and focus on the protection of individual rights and privileges instead of group claims, social partitions on the basis of religion, caste, language, race and other social identities would subside. Nonetheless, periodic recurrences of identity-driven conflicts and the persistence of group identities, even in what are deemed to be the most secular and relatively mature democracies such as the United States and some of the European countries, leave us wondering when and whether these expectations will materialise. Social scientists such as T.N. Madan have highlighted how religions in South Asia can render secularism impotent and subordinate the state and political power to religious authority. Ashis Nandy has often reminded us of the quite comfortable coexistence of modernity, Enlightenment and secularism on the one hand and communal violence on the other, not to say the least of how the former has engendered and aggravated the latter. Andr Bteille has pondered over the continuing gap between laws and social realities in India: while the Indian legal framework largely operates with a view to protect individual rights and privileges, Indian society and politics are driven by group assertions on the basis of caste, community and religion.
One major opponent that Sen's Identity and Violence identifies and is keen to counteract is what Sen calls the "solitarist" view, according to which human identities are thought to be formed by membership to a single social group categorised in terms of religion, caste, class, language, ethnicity, nationality or civilisation. Sen is perceptive enough to diagnose that it is the philosophy of the solitarist view that has come to shape and influence much of the dynamics of polity and identity-based violence, especially because one's identity is constructed and sustained by a series of contrasts and exclusions: to have an identity in the public sphere is to be one thing rather than another. To further their own selfish ends, politicians, priests and fundamentalists viciously cultivate violence, create factions and set people against one another. Violence is often used not only to hurt, terrorise and kill those who are perceived as enemies or outsiders but also as a strategy to increase the popular support base for extremist ideology and to convert and convince the moderates within their own fold. Sen therefore scores a moral victory and does a great service to humanity by coming down heavily on these individuals and forces and by insisting that the solitarist view of human identity is flawed, unsound and dangerous.
Yet people who have observed violent episodes close at hand and social and cultural anthropologists who have studied the patterns of communal violence across the world recommend some caution against any overarching causal explanation that leads up to intellectual errors, mistaken beliefs and reasoning or the naked greed of identity politicians and religious leaders, with or without the support of the economic elites of the society in question. These, no doubt, are important sources of violence to reckon with, but they should also be seen in conjunction with other motivations whose link with identity issues might not be so intimate. There is ample evidence in the history of communal violence in India and elsewhere in the world that individuals engaged in communal violence, directly or indirectly, often pursue their own private agendas, which can be as different as business jealousy and rivalry, family and village feuds, looting, personal revenge, local grudge, and land and territorial disputes. It turns out that the perpetrators in these instances deploy the communal `framework' more as a smokescreen or licence to achieve their ends and less as an expression of sympathy with identity-based motivations and ideologies.
Also, behind many violent conflicts and the splitting of the population on the basis of identity-based loyalties is the basic, and in some sense pre-reflective, human need for safety and security and protection for one's family and property. When governments and their apparatuses such as the police and the armed forces are inefficient, partisan or on the verge of a collapse, people are forced to turn to identity factions to fill up the lacuna. In times of insecurity, people, especially the minorities and the marginalised, tend to retreat into closed groups. We might in principle subject to intellectual reasoning the human instinct for security in times of fear and vulnerability, but it cannot be totally subsumed into a cerebral exercise; we can indeed apply our intellect and reason to understand what is happening, but there is a limit and we cannot over-intellectualise this insecurity and its consequences.
Moreover, ordinary citizens are not so gullible as to be duped by politicians and elites. Even systematic ideological hate campaigns and carnages inspired by religious and other forms of fundamentalisms work only up to a point. Beyond that they break down because of democratic compulsions, and people see through the underlying motivations and reject them. Paradoxically, the cases of national determination and social movements, such as trade unions, peasant uprisings and women's and ecological organisations pressing for social justice claims, present a different scenario. These enjoy relatively greater patronage from the public not because people let themselves be manipulated by their politicians and leaders but because the aspirations and principles the movements have come to represent touch their own lives and livelihoods. The movements speak, so to say, in vocabularies that people understand and can relate to. On account of these varied factors involved in the violence of identity, the nexus between identity and violence that Sen investigates and unravels should be viewed in its social and institutional dimensions. It is not identity as such that causes people to do the things they do but the monistic and destructive way it is constructed in the pursuit of economic and political interests. Identity is an existential idea deeply interwoven with the feeling of security and the sense of belongingness and rootedness as well as with the human capacity for critical reflection.
As an antidote to the pernicious influence of the solitarist view and its followers, Sen suggests that a theory of identity should be informed and enriched by two important traits. The first one is the idea that humans have a plural and multilayered identity. That is to say, when we raise the questions "who am I?", "who are we?" or even "who are they?", we can in fact provide different levels or layers of answers. The same person, as Sen points out, can be an Asian, an Indian, a Hindu, a woman, a mother, a vegetarian, a schoolteacher, a cricket fan, and so on, all at the same time. Each of these affiliations to which this person simultaneously belongs gives her a particular identity. None of them can be taken to be the person's only identity.
In Sen's view then, it is wrong to define the multiple and plural nature of identities in terms of a single, unchanging essence. This paves the way to what Sen calls a "miniaturisation" of humanity, as if everyone were segregated into separate little caves, emerging only to attack each other. It also amounts to a politics of singular identity, which is incapable of appreciating the fact that human beings are able to rise above the narrow confines of group identities in order to recognise and respect fellow human beings regardless of their own personal characteristics, social positions and labels.
As a second trait, Sen emphasises the need for choice and reasoning or, as he puts it, "reasoned choice" in prioritising the relevance of various identities. We can indeed come up with a catalogue of identities to describe ourselves and others, but not all of them enjoy the same status. One's considered religious conviction about rebirth, for instance, cannot be on a par with one's preference for cricket and much less with one's casual opinion about the weather. Consciously or unconsciously, these different identities that a person has come to share acquire a hierarchy of importance and relevance.
Ironically, the different identities can also come into conflict with one another. What if the religion one professes or the religious authority and community one adheres to were to compromise on the equal status of women and were to consider them as not eligible for full participation in social and political life? Should one not denounce and challenge this debilitating practice? Peace and harmony among the members of society are possible and human progress is likely to move in the desirable direction only when we wisely negotiate conflicting identities and when we as individuals and groups make appropriate choices and decisions. Mahatma Gandhi, as Sen remarks in this book, made a deliberate choice to give priority to his identification with Indians fighting for independence from British colonial rule over his identity as a trained barrister practising English legal justice. Furthermore, Gandhi continued to insist with the colonial rulers as well as with the Indian public that although he himself was a Hindu the freedom movement he was spearheading was universalist in character and could not be pigeonholed into one particular religion or community.
The imperative of making fitting choices in the face of conflicting identities, Sen reminds us, is as much relevant today as it was in Gandhi's time.
Some culture theorists do not share the same sympathies and sentiments as Sen. For strategic and other reasons, they wish to ignore the plural character of human identity and the imperative of choice among competing identities. For instance, in The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of World Order, Samuel Huntington divides the whole world into eight civilisations (Western, Hindu, Islamic, Slav-Orthodox, Japanese, Chinese, Latin American and African) and suggests that a clash between them is unavoidable, or is already happening, since each of them embodies different value systems symbolised by religion. Sen subjects such positions to severe scrutiny and criticism. Huntington's solitarist thesis might provide a politically convenient analysis for the exercise of power and hegemony over cultures around the world. Nevertheless, it is reductionist because it overlooks the richness of the internal diversities of these civilisational and cultural categories. There are such wide social and cultural differences between Muslims in South Asia, Indonesia, Turkey and the Arab countries that it would be too nave to lump them together as one monolithic entity. Similarly, internal diversities of beliefs, practices and schools of thought and philosophies exist in Hinduism and other religions.
Not all cultural theorists, however, instrumentalise culture and view people's embeddedness in a community from a managerial and strategic point of view. The more thoughtful ones envisage cultural and communal elements to embody intrinsic value and ontological significance. The fact of being situated in a community in a metaphorical sense functions as an authoritative horizon against which one's identity is conceived and developed: things such as language, religion, culture, ideology and ethnicity become windows through which one perceives and understands the world. In addition, the fact and the feeling of belonging to a group with which one shares some identity traits can be a source of security, pride, strength, empowerment and self-confidence. The type of moral paradigm that Sen evolves in Identity and Violence might perhaps be less harsh and judgmental towards the second variety of culture theorists, those who acknowledge the encompassing role of culture and community and are mindful of the fact that collective identities cannot be negotiated to an indefinite degree.
There are indeed limits to the negotiability and malleability of people's communal and cultural identity. But even here Sen warns against the dangers of parochialism and ethnocentrism and the propensity for violence that can flow from an uncritical admiration and acceptance of what one has inherited. He, by contrast, wishes to place a decisive emphasis on the need for choice and responsibility in our identities. It is true that human beings are to a large extent shaped by their embeddedness in a particular collective identity, but the very same human beings also possess the capacity to step back, question, criticise, challenge, reform, transcend and even reject some of their communal affiliations.
It is probably very tempting to take sides and imagine a theoretical impasse, a standoff between the two views: between the solitarist theory that absolutises a particular social identity and rationalistic humanism that might want to relativise communal embeddedness and put more emphasis on the need to transcend it critically; between a monolithic perspective that envisions individuals as if they were born imprisoned by their religion, community and culture and an ethical point of view that lays stress on the ability of individuals to liberate themselves from narrow modes of thinking. Yet, the inherent danger of each of these views is the inclination to marginalise the progressive and indispensable role that collective identities have come to play in realising basic rights and entitlements for the oppressed and the weak in society.
This, as noted earlier, is the rationale for the birth and consolidation of many social and political movements. Collective identities will continue to persist in different shapes and forms as long as a section of the population is deprived of its fundamental rights and has substantial grievances to be addressed. No scientific and religious advancement can arrest this aspiration. It is a time-proven fact that unless the affected people come together to articulate and assert their needs and claims there is every possibility that they will be bypassed or not taken seriously.
Karl Marx said that individuals do make history, but he added an immediate qualification stating that this is realisable only within the constraints imposed by the historical situation in which they are born. One qualifies herself for the title of history-maker when she, with an acute understanding of the formidable constraints and challenges posed by a particular epoch, has the ability to articulate the aspirations, grievances and disappointments of the people she seeks to represent and ultimately motivate towards a concerted, determined action. In a Marxist analysis, therefore, the working class is the product of an evolving capitalist system and the process of its formation marks the emergence of a class identity - it is the process of becoming a `class in itself'. Yet this process transforms itself into a revolutionary force only when the class in itself becomes a `class for itself'. Here, what we see is a twin process of identity formation.
From the very inherent structure of capitalism, a section of people identified as working class, distinguished from peasants, capitalists and traders, emerges. This is an objective condition. Simultaneously, when the affected people become aware of one another's presence and identify with each other as victims of a particular system and practice, they turn into a force to fight for their rights and entitlements and, ultimately, for a classless society. This is a subjective process, aided, nurtured and accentuated by leaders and organisations.
A similar process is also at work in the case of other social movements for reform and revival. It is important to see how a particular caste, religious community or linguistic group comes into being in the course of the development of history and how this group is reconstituted to achieve some socio-political and economic goals. In this process, the construction of identities plays a crucial role, and this construction is sought to be achieved by making use of real or imaginary traditions and by disseminating ideas about them. When this happens, the identity one inherits is reinforced, rejected or modified.
A social philosophy that acknowledges the significance of social movements and the requirement of collective solidarity among victims is quite compatible with and is a required complementary component to the kind of humanism and moral attitude that Sen wishes to see flourishing. Conversely, Sen's ethical standpoint can be a good corrective to those social movements that drift in the direction of solitarist views that divide the world and advocate mindless violence to realise their aims.
Even from the Marxist point of view, which saw the inevitability of the emergence of a class identity, a human being is not viewed only as a worker. In practice, a person's other simultaneous identities have also been taken into account by Marxists - his role in the family, membership of a group, intellectual and artistic tastes, and so on. The comparative success of Left politics, as for instance in West Bengal and Kerala, shows how a class-based analysis of people's deprivation and well-being, without ignoring the relevance of other social identities such as caste and gender, could open up progressive possibilities.
Moreover, Indian leaders such as B.R. Ambedkar, E.V.R. Periyar, Joytiba Phule, M.N. Roy and others, or even world leaders such as Martin Luther King Jr. and Nelson Mandela, illustrate that it is indeed possible to espouse a species of humanism that respects human values and renounces violence without, at the same time, compromising in any way the commitment to the cause of the marginalised and the worse off in society. Such a variety of humanism need not also relativise, much less trivialise, the importance of religious identity, which seems to have so much significance for millions of people around the world. While we should be on guard and be aware that religion can become a convenient tool to divide people and pit communities against each other, we should also acknowledge that genuine religiousness can cut across many boundaries and barriers including the religion in question. Almost every major religion has within its fold heterodoxies, reform movements, revolutionary ideologies and liberation theologies that have upheld humanity and human values from the onslaught of institutionalised religion and religious leaders.
