In today’s political landscape, nationalism often sparks heated debates. Richard Murphy presents a thoughtful defense of nationalism grounded in a politics of care. While his focus is on the UK, he also touches on the challenges faced by the Left in grappling with nationalism. A recent incident involving Bernie Sanders encapsulates this struggle, illustrating how complex the conversation around nationalism has become.
BERNIE: “If you don’t have any borders, you don’t have a nation.”
“Trump did a better job. I don’t like Trump, but we should have a secure border. It ain’t that hard to do. Biden didn’t do it.”
— Breaking911 (@Breaking911) October 23, 2025
While there are valid criticisms of Bernie’s remarks, it is essential to consider the broader context of national identity and class. Building a political coalition focused on economic issues necessitates a careful approach to immigration. A more humane solution could involve enforcing existing labor laws rather than resorting to punitive measures against undocumented immigrants. The Trump administration’s approach to nationalism seems to lack the compassionate politics necessary for constructive dialogue. Beyond the 20-second clip circulating online, Bernie’s comments on the Tim Dillon Show delve into these complexities. From the transcript:
“None of those people should be faulted for coming here. We should be blaming individuals like Steve Wynn, who exploit illegal labor in billion-dollar hotels. Why aren’t we enforcing e-verify? Many come to this country for the same reasons my father did — to escape poverty and violence in places like Mexico and Guatemala. What I dislike about Trump and similar demagogues is that they divert attention from the larger issues plaguing our society and instead scapegoat powerless minorities.”
Now, let us explore Murphy’s defense of nationalism.
By Richard Murphy, Emeritus Professor of Accounting Practice at Sheffield University Management School and a director of Tax Research LLP. Originally published at Funding the Future.
Recently, a reader posed a crucial question regarding the merits of nationalism: Is it inherently good or bad, or is it conditional? This inquiry is far from abstract. In the UK and Ireland, nationalism has remained a significant political force for centuries. From conquest and colonialism to Home Rule and independence movements, nationalism has significantly influenced our identities and perceptions of others. This prompts a need for serious reflection, particularly as I write for The National, Scotland’s sole pro-independence newspaper.
First and foremost, I do not consider nationalism a negative sentiment. Its roots often lie in care—care for a people, place, language, or culture. When Welsh speakers advocate for their language or Scots demand self-governance, that nationalism emerges not from animosity but from love for their community and identity. This form of nationalism fosters inclusion rather than exclusion, centered around the desire to govern one’s own life and community.
Secondly, nationalism can arise from a place of powerlessness. It can serve as a progressive force when people feel ignored or marginalized, providing a language of resistance—when Scotland’s votes are disregarded or when wealth drains from English regions, it is natural that people gravitate toward national identity to reclaim their agency.
However, nationalism can also turn toxic. When it becomes inward-looking, defining itself by what it excludes, it breeds fear and division. For instance, English nationalism that identifies “real” English citizens as solely white transforms into a politics of exclusion. The symbols of nationalism can shift significantly—waving the St. George’s Cross in celebration during a football match is markedly different from wielding it to promote anti-immigrant sentiments.
Thus, the fundamental question is not whether nationalism is inherently good or bad, but rather its purpose. This leads me to the concept of the politics of care.
The politics of care, a recurring theme in my work, begins with the acknowledgment that every being holds equal worth, irrespective of their nationality or identity. Care, in this sense, is inherently relational; it transcends identity and affirms the value of every individual. Consequently, it connects across boundaries, positioning nationalism within the larger contexts of humanity, empathy, and decency.
A nationalism rooted in a politics of care would:
- Support self-determination while rejecting notions of superiority;
- Protect culture without imposing exclusion;
- Encourage belonging while resisting the false notion of purity.
In this light, nationhood becomes a framework for democracy, solidarity, and mutual care.
This perspective creates a moral distinction between various forms of nationalism. The nationalism of oppressed groups—those who are colonized, marginalized, or disrespected—can serve as a catalyst for liberation. Conversely, the nationalism of the powerful tends to perpetuate oppression and division.
This distinction is crucial—consider the recent victory of Plaid Cymru in Caerphilly, which champions dignity through diversity, compared to the divisive rhetoric of a Reform UK government demanding obedience through separation. The contrast is both significant and necessary.
Despite the conflicts surrounding nationalism, the Left has often struggled with its implications. Internationalism, deeply rooted in socialist and social democratic ideologies, seems to challenge the importance of national identity, suggesting class should take precedence. Indeed, dual or multiple identities can coexist. It is perplexing why this notion poses challenges for some.
Empathizing with others based on shared social conditions should not prevent an appreciation of one’s own culture, customs, and community ties. Recognizing both our values and those of others is essential. If we possess varying material, emotional, and intellectual needs that shape our search for meaning—potentially leading to spiritual exploration—recognizing the significance of different places and cultures is paramount. Upholding diverse identities and traditions does not equate to abandoning them; it means valuing them while remaining critical of any oppressive dynamics.
Add to this the challenge of reconciling different faith traditions. While each may present distinct visions, these visions must harmonize with the intrinsic value of belonging and mutual respect across faiths.
Why is this discussion relevant? Nationalism is once again reshaping the political scene, particularly in Scotland, Wales, Northern Ireland, and, more concerningly, England. The nature of nationalism will significantly influence the UK’s political and moral landscape. It is imperative to understand that nationalisms are not monolithic; they can unite or divide, justify exclusion or advocate for justice. They can express love and care or engender fear and ostracism. These manifestations are fundamentally different.
In conclusion, my perspective on nationalism is that it is positive when it acts as a force of care and harmful when it serves as a tool for domination. It becomes necessary when it gives a voice to the marginalized. The crucial test for any nationalism is simple: does it foster empathy or diminish it? This ethical distinction demarcates the politics of care from the politics of hatred. By remembering this principle, nationalism can be embraced as a valuable force, with the awareness that neglecting this concept can lead to destruction. Ultimately, at its most compassionate, nationalism can help us rediscover our shared identity.
