THE HIGHER LENS : 22
When Does National Pride Become Nationalism?
"The nation is imagined because the members of even the smallest nation will never know most of their fellow members... yet in the minds of each lives the image of their communion." - Benedict Anderson
The words patriotism and nationalism are often used interchangeably. They appear in political speeches, newspaper headlines and social media debates as though they describe the same phenomenon. Yet they are not synonymous. One reflects affection for a country; the other can demand loyalty at the expense of others. The challenge is that the line separating them is neither fixed nor universally agreed upon.
National identity has always been powerful because it answers one of humanity's oldest questions: Who are we?
Political scientist Benedict Anderson famously argued that nations are "imagined communities." He did not mean they are imaginary or false. Rather, nations exist because millions of strangers imagine themselves as belonging to the same collective. Most citizens will never meet one another, yet they share symbols, stories, traditions, language and memories that create a sense of common purpose.
This explains why flags provoke emotion, why national anthems inspire pride and why sporting events often feel about more than sport. The nation provides belonging in an increasingly complex world.
In this sense, national pride is neither unusual nor inherently dangerous. Loving the place that shaped you, celebrating its achievements or wanting it to prosper are natural expressions of identity. Patriotism can encourage civic participation, strengthen democratic institutions and unite diverse populations around shared values.
The difficulty arises when pride shifts from appreciation to comparison.
Patriotism asks, "How can we improve our country?"
Nationalism increasingly asks, "Why is our country superior to others?"
That distinction matters.
Political theorist Michael Billig described the subtle ways nations reproduce themselves through what he called "banal nationalism." Flags hanging outside public buildings, national holidays, weather maps centred on one's own country and references to "our" economy constantly remind citizens of their national identity without them even noticing. National consciousness is therefore not reserved for moments of crisis; it is quietly reinforced every day.
Most of the time this is harmless. Yet in periods of economic insecurity, rapid migration or political uncertainty, national identity can become a vehicle for fear rather than belonging.
Across Europe, debates surrounding immigration, sovereignty, cultural identity and European integration have intensified. Political parties increasingly frame elections around protecting "our people", "our culture" and "our borders". While concerns over borders, integration and national policy are legitimate subjects of democratic debate, the language surrounding them can sometimes blur the distinction between preserving identity and excluding those perceived as outsiders.
The rise of populist movements illustrates how national identity can become politically mobilised. Rather than presenting the nation as a shared civic project, these narratives often divide society into those who truly belong and those who supposedly threaten it.
History demonstrates where this logic can lead when left unchecked.
The extreme nationalism that emerged across Europe during the twentieth century transformed national identity into racial superiority, territorial expansion and political exclusion. These ideologies culminated in devastating consequences that remain central to Europe's collective memory. Yet history also teaches us something else: nationalism rarely begins with extremism. It often begins with ordinary fears, uncertainty and a desire for security.
This makes the conversation today particularly important.
Globalisation has connected economies while making many people feel disconnected from local communities. Migration has enriched societies while also raising genuine questions about integration, identity and social cohesion. Supranational institutions have expanded cooperation while prompting debates over national sovereignty.
None of these questions have simple answers.
The challenge is resisting the temptation to believe that every political problem can be solved by drawing a sharper line between "us" and "them."
Perhaps the healthiest form of national identity is one that is confident enough not to require comparison.
A nation should be able to celebrate its history without denying its mistakes. It should welcome criticism without treating it as betrayal. It should preserve its traditions while recognising that societies naturally evolve.
National pride becomes nationalism not simply when people love their own country, but when that love depends upon excluding, diminishing or fearing others.
In an era defined by migration, artificial intelligence, global crises and increasing political polarisation, the question is no longer whether national identity matters. It clearly does.
The real question is whether we can build identities that give people a sense of belonging without demanding someone else be left outside.
Vlera Gara