The Ties that Bind
Theresa May, the soon-to-be former Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, a nation made of four different countries—Scotland, Wales, Northern Ireland, and England—used these words to justify Brexit.
In another time and place, one could imagine the opposition to the formation of the United Kingdom saying, "If you are a citizen of this so-called United Kingdom, you are a citizen of nowhere". My grandfather, Herbert James Brimble, was born in Pontypool, Wales in 1884, when it was (as it still is today) part of the United Kingdom. This did not preclude him telling everyone he was "Welsh." When he immigrated to the United States, folks called him "the Englishman." With all due respect to the English, he hated that. He was Welsh and yet he was also a citizen of the United Kingdom. However, if one follows the logic of Theresa May, he could not be both: because he had to choose, or he was a citizen of "nowhere".
So it is with British subjects, at least until October 2019 when supposedly the subject of the UK remaining in the European Union will be decided. For now, apparently they are citizens of the Republic of Nowhere, because they happened to be both British and European. How did it come to this—that being a citizen of the "world," or Europe, has come to be seen so negatively by so many? How, after nearly 75 years of post-World War II prosperity, relative peace, and unprecedented global cooperation, has the rhetoric of fear of the "other" taken on a new, more powerful life?
What are the ties that bound us in the first place? Of course, one of them is formal citizenship; but, what is citizenship? Legally, it’s your individual rights and obligations bound to one nation. However, if we move beyond legal definitions, there is a figurative element to the concept of citizenship, which denotes an affinity, a devotion, and yes, even an obligation. These also are ties that bind.
“The world" is not a legal entity, and one cannot legally become a citizen of it. Yet, on some levels we all are already, by virtue of the fact that we live and breath on this planet. In the earlier times, many Indigenous tribes would offer a beautiful greeting to each other as a tribute to these ties when they came together at inter-tribal gatherings: "We may come from different tribes, but we all live under one sky.” With this greeting came the recognition that it was possible to be of one tribe, but also have some level of commonality with each and every other person. While these Native Americans may never describe it this way, they were acknowledging that they were all "citizens of the world." The qualification of this citizenship? Being human.
As we consider the role of nation states and citizenship in our relationship to those who are not like us, it is easy to focus on the differentiation. There are many, such as geography, language, history, and heritage. Sometimes nation states were bolted together by events, expediencies, and forces that we have long forgotten, or would no longer care about even if we still remembered. Yet, citizenship of these entities is primal. The ties that bind citizens together into a nation are useful and powerful. No one should ever be forced to give up their prime citizenship.
Nevertheless, let us also consider the commonalities that we have with the citizens of other nations.
The truth is that it is possible to be a multi-citizen. We are all, simultaneously, a legal citizen of someplace, and a virtual citizen of many other groups. Failure to explore this is like dismissing other parts of ourselves and our connection with the larger community. Our identity should not be limited to our regional, tribal, or national origins.
To understand this concept better, imagine that your “identity” is a series of concentric circles. At the core is your dominant vision of yourself. This might be your nationality, ethnicity, your religion, even your favorite football team (Hook 'em!). You are a virtual citizen of all of those groups, right? But it doesn’t stop there. No matter how strong your dominant citizenship vision, you are also a citizen of other virtual nations. Visualize additional concentric citizen circles around your core: Methodist, politically conservative, architect, lover of 80s music, neighbor and friend of Sandeep, married to Maria, whose family emigrated to Texas five generations ago, father of Michael, who last year told you he is gay. All of these, and more are also your “nations,” whether you wish to acknowledge them or not. It gets complicated, but also very, very wonderful.
Welcome to the geography of your “self.”
This geography resembles circles within circles, or “wheels within wheels.” It is your unique fingerprint, and is added to as you go through this life, like the rings of a tree. It also contains points of intersection and overlap with other nations and people. Be mindful of your geography of self and of its many intersections with the others. These intersections are unique sources of personal and communal power, and are an essence of both community and an individual human being.
Theresa May may have thought that citizenship begins with a nation telling those that live among each other what they are and are not. While it is true that governments can determine our legal status, we as individuals are much more wonderfully complex than that. In fact, we do get to pick the geography of ourselves, and the nations in which we wish to belong. Perhaps this translates into larger and more complex national entities such as the United Kingdom, or the European Union, or the fifty states that band together as the United States of America. Or perhaps the points of intersection remain figurative meeting places, like the pow wows of the Native American tribes. In any event, they do point to a more complex definition of citizenship, which is nonbinary and ever evolving.
Any nation can be made up of the many, which forms the one, and is bound by communal ties. The points of intersection are where we bind our ties, and the strength of any nation, as well as all of humanity, depends on the net we weave from these bindings.
So, I contend that if you are a citizen of the world, you are a citizen of everywhere, not nowhere. Perhaps Theresa May had it exactly backwards.