History: Not Just What We Remember, But What We Forget

When the New York Knicks reached the Eastern Conference for the first time in 25 years, its namesake city went into a frenzy. Out on the streets across the 5 boroughs, New Yorkers celebrated the wins of people they will never meet, with people they had never met before. What do each of these individuals share in common with the players who had just won or the strangers cheering next to them? If you were to take any one of them aside and ask them this question, they’d likely give the same answer: “We’re New Yorkers!” 

Whether it be our culture, nation, or family, each of us are defined by groups which encompass us — collective identities. 

Collective identities play an integral role in shaping individual characters. Although its arguably most influential version of modern nationalism is still a relatively recent phenomenon, collective identities have been prominent for as long as human history. Whether it be the formation of the first civilizations in the Fertile Crescent, the religious conflicts of medieval kingdoms, and the  birth of the nation-state following the Peace of Westphalia, the concept of an “us” and a “them” has driven how individuals define themselves in relation to groups they “belong” to. 

Still, the amorphous meaning of what a collective identity actually is has been a topic that many historians have found difficult in defining. The concept of what constitutes a nation, for example, has drawn particular debate. Although most historians agree upon the general definition as “a community of people who feel they belong together in the double sense that they share deeply significant elements of a common heritage and they share a common destiny for the future” (Emerson) others argue that it is bounded by more “physical” characteristics, such as ethnicity and religion. This sense of a common past, present, and future, defined as the history of a collective identity, has become a characterizing factor that historians argue have shaped groups. 

Despite what some may argue about factors surrounding ethnicity, religion, and language, this essay argues that collective identities are not just shaped by historical narratives, ideas, and myths, but formed entirely from them. Given the need for a group to justify its existence, while also finding means to unite its members, having a history that resonates with them is central to forming a collective identity. As such, ethnicity, religion, and language can prove arbitrary relative to the defining force of remembered history. Additionally, for the peoples of a collective identity, it is not just the parts of history remembered as integral that form to which group one “belongs”, but also which parts are forgotten. In essence, there is no objective historical truth that exists. Rather, the history of a collective identity is based on events that are both emphasized and omitted by key figures in the group. 

To understand how collective identities are molded, we first need to understand the driving forces of individual identities. Plato argues that the human soul is divided into three parts: the reasoning Logistikon, the craving Epithumetikon, and the spirited Thymos. Plato points that Thymos is the part that feels a spectrum ranging from pride to shame. In other words, Thymos acts as the spirit of dignity in the individual. When one’s sense of honor is affronted, Thymos acts as the force mobilizing to reclaim it (Plato). 

From this, Francis Fukuyama argues that just as our individual Thymos desires for honor and recognition, collective identities embody an extension of this feeling (Fukuyama). Whether it be the American Revolutionaries desire for representation, or the Third Estate’s fight against the monarchy, when a group faces a slight against their dignity, their collective identities rally together to unite their members. But in order to create this sense of belonging with one another, while also fulfilling the need to justify its own existence, the key figures of a collective identity must form a history, a sense that they as a people, institution, and system have a shared past and destiny (Anderson). 

Some may argue that collective identities are shaped predominantly by factors like ethnicity, religion, or language. Yet, history demonstrates that these characteristics serve as secondary elements, merely aiding rather than fundamentally forming a collective identity. Instead, it is the historical narratives pushed by key figures that instill feelings of solidarity within members of the groups, despite more often than not, being strangers to one another. For example, take the USA — a melting pot of different cultures, ethnicities, and languages all under one nation. In theory, its sheer diversity can prove difficult to form a singular identity encompassing all its people. Yet, the Jeffersonian ideas, inspired by Rousseau, of “all men are created equal” and “Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness” (Jefferson) have set the defining feature of what it means to be an American. Although some in the nation, especially those in more ethnically homogenous regions, may argue that it is ethnicity that defines one’s collective identity, the past 200 years have shown that it is instead the ideals pushed by key figures in American history that have far greater influence. The idea formed by the Founding Fathers of liberty-lovers blind to ethnicity, gender, or religion has remained central to what it means to be an American, as shown by the nation’s multiculturalism. 

A collective identity’s history however, is not objective. It is instead the accumulation of specific events that have been emphasized as important — which can be a source of collective pride and belonging — while also omitting others which are perceived as shameful. This stands in line with Fukyama’s interpretation of Thymos, as history enables groups to channel their pride from the past toward a collective future. 

For example, in Ukraine, the painting Reply of the Zaporozhian Cossacks has become an especially remembered part of the national identity in light of its current war with Russia. It depicts Cossack soldiers, ancestors of modern Ukrainians, sending an insulting reply to the ultimatum given by the Ottoman Empire. Today, the painting has come to symbolize national pride in stubbornness by Ukrainians. In its current war, fighters have rallied their remembered history of their unwillingness to be conquered, boosting their shared pride, and prolonging a war that was supposed to last 10 days into 3 years. Remembered histories, especially of events which bring pride to a people, drive, as Benedict Anderson puts it, “millions of people, not so much to kill, as willing to die.” (Anderson)

But just as history is made up of events remembered, it is also formed through others forgotten. Events that may damage solidarity among members can oftentimes be omitted from collective memory. Philosopher Ernest Renan states, “No French citizen knows whether he is a Burgund, an Alain, a Taifala, or a Visigoth. Every French citizen has forgotten St. Bartholomew’s Day and the thirteenth-century massacres of the Midi.” (Renan) The fact that previous divisions in the creation of a French nation, that being the differing feudal kingdoms before centralization, had now been largely forgotten by the common man demonstrates how the strengthening of a collective identity’s history can result from the removal of another, older identity that may have stood in the way of unification. Likewise, most of the French have since forgotten shameful events of history, as they may weaken collective concord within the nation. 

Indonesia is a prime example of how national narratives take priority over divisions of language, culture, and ethnicity in shaping collective identity, but also how its history is one molded through remembered and forgotten events. 

With over 600 ethnicities and 700 languages (Ananta), the grouping of these diverse islands share few commonalities, the most prominent being they were all Dutch colonies. As a result, the formation of these groups under a single nation was centered around the history of the collective struggles faced by the colonized people. National holidays are focused almost exclusively around anniversaries of independence movements. Its focus on moments of struggle were emphasized as important parts of the collective identity’s history, and events in which its citizens feel a shared pride. At the same time, the history pushed by the nation’s elites is one which is fraught with events intended to be forgotten. Events like the 1965 Communist Genocide are not publicly acknowledged by the government, victims’ accounts are silenced, and government-sponsored efforts to “rewrite history” in educational books further reinforce the message that certain parts of history are to be omitted. 

Just as how our individual Thymos affect our response to affronts to dignity, the spirit of collective identities is centered around shared pride and solidarity. In order to draw the line which divides what it means to be a Canadian from an American, a Ukrainian from a Russian, or a Knicks fan from a Nets fan, collective identities create their own histories, emphasizing specific ideas and events to be remembered and omitting those that may threaten their dignity. In the end, our collective identities live not within objective truths, but in the narratives we construct, powerful enough to unify millions of strangers into a unified ‘us’.