One's nation or body politic is a double of the self—a double of one's body; a double of existence. One's nation is conceived as an immortal body. Warfare and genocide (among many other cultural phenomena) revolve around preserving the nation, that is, the immortal body with which one's own body has become identified.

Nationalism is relocation of the self—from our human body to a body politic. Killing for one's nation is the way we express faith in our national body--and seek to preserve it. Dying for one's country is the way we express faith in our national body--and seek to preserve it.

The history of the human species is the history of dying and killing for Empires, gods and nations conceived as immortal.

To identify with a nation is to imagine one will be eternally fused with an object that continues to exist even as we fade away.  We won’t fade away entirely, because we are “at one” with an object that lives forever.

We glory in our identification with our nation, but also suffer from it. Attachment to the object militates against embracing our concrete existence. In comparison with our vast, powerful nation, we feel small; our life seems trivial.

At the same time that human beings identify with objects that seem immortal or ever-lasting, there is a part of us that turns away from these objects—seeking to abandon or destroy them. The omnipotent object drags us away from concrete existence. Still, we don’t wish to abandon the object to which we have become devoted: our identification is profound.

The Psychosomatic Nation

Nationalism is a psychosomatic phenomenon. The object with which we identify—our nation—comes to reside within our body. If nations did not exist within our bodies, why would our relationship to these entities evoke such passion?

Identifying with one's nation, the object comes to reside deeply within the self. The object is internalized—becomes psychosomatically present. The omnipotent object—one’s attachment and devotion to this object—becomes parasitic upon the self. The parasite is precisely the fantasy of eternal existence, which consumes the self.

The omnipotent object—one’s devotion to this object—is parasitic upon one’s actual life. The object drains energy away from concrete existence. Psychosomatically, the object is felt to be sucking energy—the life-blood—from one’s body.

In spite of the pain caused by one’s attachment to the object, one cannot acknowledge the suffering it causes. One is unwilling to abandon the object to which one has devoted so much of one’s existence. 

Attachment to omnipotent objects is ambivalent: we desire the sense of power that identification provides, but don’t enjoy the feeling of being burdened and oppressed by the object. Even as we seek to bind to an omnipotent object, we would like to separate from this object. 

Separating from Culture

In the 1970s in the United States and around the world, there was a rebellion against culture—upon the demands that national life placed upon the self. This was a struggle to “throw off” the omnipotent object—achieve liberation.

The struggle to throw off or abandon culture was the “embodiment” revolution: returning from the body politic (society) to one’s own body.  Disillusionment with the rewards that society provided—the fantasy of omnipotent identification—led to efforts to return to concrete existence: to experience and embrace one’s physical self.

Suddenly, everyone was running, running, running, running: rediscovering the energy contained within one’s body as the source of identity. At the same time, everyone was fucking, fucking, fucking: experiencing the thrill of uniting with real bodies in the world rather than with a body politic. In 1980 came the body-building revolution: return to the foundation; the base. 

Although we recognize that our actual body is the location of death--in contrast to the body politic (the location of immortality)--still we seek to embrace our actual body.  It is the place where sexual excitement and physical pleasure occurs—not to mention love. The experience of actual existence— pleasure, excitement and love—inspires us to abandon identification with the "immortal"  body politic. Still, easier said than done.

What a powerful hold our nation—with its national life—exerts upon us. It seems that real life is happening out there or up above: In a place other than where our actual body is located. We hesitate to separate from gigantic, "world-historic events;" from the never-ending stream of “news” and entertainment. How difficult it is to abandon a body politic—and to embrace one’s actual body—a body heading toward death.