December 10 marked the 75th anniversary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UNDHR). The relatively small set of universal principles articulated in the UNDHR recognizes every individual’s inherent dignity and value.
There is much to celebrate about human rights. They have helped millions achieve better living standards and greater freedom, enabling individuals to pursue their potential and live in dignity and freedom.
The concept of “rights” dates to ancient times. However, in the past, rights were granted to members of a particular community, such as a nation-state or religious group. For instance, the French Revolution 1789 proclaimed the “Rights of Man And Citizen.”
By contrast, the “human rights” enumerated in the UNDHR are universal. This is revolutionary. It extends rights to the individual regardless of their membership in a community. This universality owes much to the Christian theological concept of Imago Dei (the image of God), which affirms the inherent dignity and worth of every human being as a reflection of God’s creation.
Nevertheless, a robust human rights regime remains the goal of democratic movements worldwide. A recent film set in the conflict regions of Myanmar – Will There Be A Tomorrow? – tells of a courageous nurse who provides health care to remote villages. She eloquently summarizes the essence of human rights: “I am working for humans, not for a religion or race.”
Yet these universal principles are now under siege by a political philosophy that rejects the primacy of individual rights and instead emphasizes collective identities based on ethnicity, race, gender, or sexuality. This philosophy, which the American writer Mark Lilla calls “identity liberalism,” has had profoundly detrimental consequences for Western societies.
Identity liberalism, as Lilla explains in his book The Once and Future Liberal, is a political orientation that prioritizes the recognition and representation of specific identity groups over the common interests and obligations of citizenship.
This is a radical departure from the classical liberal ideal of a society where individuals are judged by their character and merit, not by their skin colour or other immutable traits. It is also a rejection of the vision of Martin Luther King Jr., who dreamed of a colour-blind society where people of all races and backgrounds could live together in harmony.
Instead of fostering a sense of unity and solidarity among citizens, identity liberalism has created a culture of fragmentation and resentment. It has divided citizens into competing factions and has encouraged them to seek symbolic gestures, superficial diversity, and protection from dissenting opinions. It has eroded the civic culture and the public sphere, essential for a healthy democracy.
Identity liberalism has now evolved into a pervasive ideology that goes by the acronym of DIE: Diversity, Inclusivity, and Equity. DIE is an ideology that claims Western society is inherently and systematically racist, sexist, and oppressive towards non-white, non-male, and non-heterosexual individuals. It demands that society be restructured and reformed to address these alleged injustices and compensate for marginalized groups’ historical and present disadvantages.
DIE advocates for policies and practices that categorize and rank citizens according to their race, ethnicity, gender, or sexuality and allocate resources and opportunities based on these criteria. In our universities, for example, many faculty positions are now restricted by race.
A recent job posting at the University of Victoria for a full-time assistant professor specifies that “selection will be limited to members of the following designated group: Black people.”
B.C.’s human rights commissioner, Kasari Govender, rather than condemning such a blatant case of racism, defended it by asserting that “It is very important for our human rights system to allow for this kind of progress to be made.” It is mystifying how one can reconcile claims of “progress” with race-based preferences that undermine the core academic mission of a university.
DIE also seeks to silence and censor any voices that challenge or question its assumptions and prescriptions. Like all ideologies, it imposes a rigid, sterile, and dogmatic worldview that leaves no room for nuance, complexity, or dialogue. Rather than allowing citizens to engage in a robust debate and a free exchange of ideas, controversial or critical viewpoints against DIE are cast out of the public conversation.
Like any religious doctrine, DIE forbids the questioning of its first principles. The result is a censorious public square.
Focusing on immutable identity categories reinforces divisions and erodes mutual understanding, threatening the norms of the liberal order that values individual rights and freedoms. This mindset destabilizes the values and institutions that have made democratic societies successful and resilient. It erodes the social fabric and the civic culture that binds citizens together. It creates a fragmented, polarized, and hostile society, dividing citizens into competing tribal identities.
Lilla offers a way out of this impasse: a return to the concept of citizenship, which emphasizes the common good and the shared responsibilities of all citizens, regardless of their identities. Focusing on what unites us rather than what divides us can restore a sense of civic virtue and a vision of the public interest. He calls for reviving the civic education and engagement necessary for a functioning democracy.
Re-establishing a unifying sense of citizenship is critical if Canada is to maintain a liberal order where fellow citizens are perceived as individuals and not as placeholders of this or that race, ethnic group or sexual orientation. This task requires empathy, imagination, humility, and a commitment to the common good – essential civic virtues for maintaining a liberal democracy worthy of the name. In sum, Canada must abjure identity politics and adopt policies that once again respect individual rights, which is the essence of the liberal order.
