Birds of a Feather: Why do Nationalism and Citizenship Matter?
Chances are you’ve landed here after reading my article on questions to ask yourself before moving abroad.
And if you haven’t, here’s a quick take-away –
As more than just packing your bags, successful expatriation involves a ton of mental legwork.
And as one of many angles to consider, your desired host country’s brand of citizenship and nationalism can make or break your ability to integrate.
Read on for an in-depth exploration of citizenship and nationalism, and why they matter to expatriates.
Understanding Citizenship
What is citizenship?
Though formally defined in Webster’s Dictionary as “membership in a community”, citizenship is a complicated and ever-evolving political concept, a concept that, at its core, illustrates the relationship between the individual and the state.
Pertaining to how a sovereign government recognizes a person’s status, citizenship is the state of belonging to a political, ethnic, or social community.
Living in a country, however, does not equal citizenship by itself. Typically obtained after meeting a national, state, or local government’s requirements, citizenship grants certain rights and privileges to the citizen in exchange for the citizen’s obedience and loyalty.
According to English sociologist Thomas Humphrey, there are three elements to citizenship:
Civil. Rights necessary for individual freedom, such as personal liberty, freedom of speech, thought, and religion, the right to own property, and the right to seek and obtain justice.
Political. The right to participate in the political process, such as through voting or assuming elected office.
Social. The right to economic welfare and security, such as through the educational system and social services.
Why is citizenship important?
As more than just a legal status, citizenship carries several social and economic benefits, including:
A strong, integrated society. According to researchers, countries that view immigration as part of their national and economic success cultivate a greater sense of belonging amongst newcomers.
Mutual economic gain. Everyone wins when it comes to citizenship – immigrants create new businesses, join native workforces, and purchase native goods and services, and an influx of new spending creates economic growth, higher wages, and new jobs for all.
Voting rights. Citizenship lets diversifying communities elect leaders who represent their interests.
Improved quality of life. Fully committed immigrant communities means greater job security, education, and community involvement.
Understanding Nationalism
What is nationalism?
Now that you understand citizenship, it’s time to get acquainted with citizenship’s sibling, nationalism.
Thanks to a certain 20th-century dictator, nationalism (rightfully) gets a bad rep. Nationalism, however, isn’t all bad.
Because as a system of ideas and philosophies that promote a nation’s interests and sovereignty, nationalism is a necessary ingredient in successful statehood. It’s also what drives citizens to identify with a nation.
There are two types of nationalism:
Ethnic. Nationhood defined according to pre-existing ethnic characteristics, such as language, culture (“blood”), religion, and tradition. Dangerous when the right economic and political conditions converge; associated with genocide and authoritarianism. The nation creates the state.
Examples: Modern China, the Soviet Union, and most famously, fascist Germany.
Civic. Nationhood defined according to shared ideas and political philosophy, irrespective of ethnicity, gender, religion, and language. Associated with democracy and Western political thought. The state creates the nation.
Examples: France, Canada, and the United States.
Ethnic vs civic nationalism: Why does it matter?
Nationalism affects everyone, regardless of its flavor or your immigration status. And if you’re a globally mobile professional, your host country’s brand of nationalism can make or break your ability to become a citizen.
To understand why, you need to understand culture shock, or the adjustment process all immigrants experience after moving to a different cultural environment.
It has four stages:
Honeymoon. Occurring within the first three months of moving abroad, the honeymoon phase of culture shock is associated with positive emotions, when everything – language, culture, food, and people – feels new and exciting.
Frustration. The toughest stage, where travelers experience frustration with their host country’s idiosyncrasies and the inconveniences they cause. Associated with depression, confusion, homesickness, and even rage.
Adjustment. As the slow uphill climb from the trough of frustration, adjustment is the longest culture shock stage. It occurs as the traveler adapts to their new home and rationally copes with the curve balls it throws. Language acquisition and community involvement are key ingredients in successfully moving through the adjustment stage.
Acceptance. After months to years of navigating frustration and adjustment, the traveler finally arrives at acceptance, where they’re able to move seamlessly with their foreign environment. Acceptance is where your host country starts feeling like home. Language fluency, mature social networks, and cultural integration are this stage’s hallmarks.
Whereas most expat-focused blogs present culture shock as a linear graph, I like to think of it as a road. Over mountains, marshes, and deserts it winds, with each phase represented as a mile marker. Only once you reach the adjustment phase does the road fork, with one segment leading to acceptance and the other to a dead end.
What affects the path you choose? Citizenship, or a sense of belonging.
A country that defines citizenship across ethnic lines means a country with a tough integration path. It means outsiders will always be outsiders, regardless of their efforts to navigate and adopt their host country’s culture. Being a perpetual outsider means an increased likelihood of adverse experiences during culture shock’s adjustment phase, such as distrust from locals, social exclusion, and discrimination. And an increased likelihood of adverse adjustment experiences means an increased likelihood of returning home. This likelihood only grows more pronounced the more the traveler deviates from their host country’s ethnic status quo.
Contrast this with civic nationalism, where travelers enjoy an increased likelihood of successfully moving past the adjustment phase. Exceptions, however, do apply, but that’s a different discussion for another time.
For example, I never moved past the adjustment stage during my year-long tenure in the Republic of Georgia.
Despite my attempts to merge with Georgia’s culture, I never stopped being an outsider. I never belonged. And as permanent outsider, I became the subject of constant, exhausting, and sometimes life-threatening scrutiny from all corners of Georgian society. Because as a Black woman, I deviated too sharply from Georgia’s (albeit still young and evolving) definition of citizenship. Being Georgian meant literally being Georgian, by birth, by name, and by blood, a painful reality that ultimately left me with two choices – deal with it or go home.
Conclusion
If you’re a globally mobile professional in search of your next adventure, your choice of host country matters. Its brand of citizenship and nationalism, just as much. Because the right expat in the wrong place can add extra bumps to an already bumpy integration process, adverse experiences that can make or break your ability to successfully overcome culture shock.