Ahmed Sameer
The historian Will Durant observed that civilizations often find themselves at death’s door when they become too convinced of their own superiority. Once a society believes it has nothing left to learn from outsiders, intellectual stagnation begins.
Here, the case of ethnocentrism is being referred to, which is the tendency to look at one’s culture or outlook as the centre of everything. Once a group or class becomes accustomed to it, it plunges into a state of oblivion. There remains nothing to be learnt from outsiders, for the drawbacks become difficult to comprehend and the strengths become hyperbolic beyond measure.
Once there lived a frog in a well. His residence drove him to believe that he was living in the largest source of water imaginable. The sea turtle who would visit him failed to convince him that there were much bigger sources of water than this well. Who could make that reality as clear as the sky to the frog? The Middle Kingdom syndrome of the Chinese Empire struck similar chords with its proclivity to believe that there was nothing to be learnt from outsiders. The walls of the well had become the walls of his imagination.
Ethnocentrism is not merely pride in one’s culture. It is the belief that one’s group, ethnicity, religion, class, language, or civilization possesses a superior claim to truth, morality, and human worth over others, running counter to the idea of cultural relativism. The tragedy is that almost every civilization has fallen into this trap.
Historically, the Greeks boasted of their knowledge and intellectual achievements. The civilization that produced thinkers like Plato and Aristotle often looked down upon those outside its fold as barbarians. The irony was striking. A civilization that taught humanity how to question assumptions was itself unable to escape some of its own assumptions.
In the age of modernity, when the admission of ignorance was accepted in many circles and people began to make efforts to come out of this cycle, humanity witnessed remarkable strides in technology, inventions, discoveries, medicine, and communication, among other watershed developments. The willingness to admit that one did not know everything became the foundation of knowing more.
Yet, voices emerged from various corners claiming that these inventions were already embedded in our values and beliefs. We are often told that relativity existed in ancient texts, that quantum physics was already known, and that genetics, aviation, and nuclear science were all described centuries ago.
A simple question arises: if all modern discoveries already existed in previous texts, why did humanity need centuries of experimentation, mathematics, observation, and scientific institutions to discover them? Why were laboratories built? Why were theories tested and retested? Why were scientists willing to spend entire lives questioning what was already believed?
The equation of relativity belongs neither to Germans nor Europeans nor any religion. It belongs to humanity. Einstein did not discover relativity because of his ethnicity. He discovered it because of scientific temper. Had he subscribed exclusively to the superiority of his own group, he would have debarred himself from attaining knowledge from sources beyond it. Knowledge progresses when curiosity triumphs over identity.
The consequences of ethnocentrism are not confined to intellectual stagnation. It has done enormous disservice to humanity.
The twentieth century offers one of its darkest examples. Hitler’s idea of racial purity rested upon the belief that certain races were superior while others were inferior. The extermination of millions during his reign did not begin in gas chambers. It began in minds. It began with the spreading of myths and stereotypes, the fabrication of theories, and the construction of categories. People were first stripped of their humanity through propaganda. Once people cease to be viewed as fellow human beings, violence becomes easier to justify.
The same pattern continues to haunt the contemporary world. Before violence is normalised, dehumanisation is normalised. Before exclusion becomes policy, prejudice becomes common sense.
The conflicts in Gaza and Ukraine reveal this tendency in different ways. It is ordinary civilians who continue to bear the brunt of geopolitical rivalries, military calculations, and competing narratives. Human beings are often reduced to symbols, statistics, or instruments in larger political projects. The language employed in conflicts frequently seeks to create moral distance between the victim and the observer. Once that distance is created, suffering becomes easier to overlook.
The process remains remarkably similar across history. First, differences are magnified. Then stereotypes are manufactured. Finally, entire groups are reduced to labels. What follows is often discrimination, exclusion, and, in extreme cases, violence.
The growth of populist politics in several parts of Europe also reflects the continuing relevance of ethnocentric tendencies. Narratives centred upon cultural superiority, civilizational threats, and the distinction between “us” and “them” have found considerable political appeal. Such politics derives its strength from the fear that one’s identity is under siege and that outsiders are responsible for collective anxieties.
The tragedy, however, is that ethnocentrism does not operate only between nations, religions, or civilizations. Sometimes it operates within the same society, among people who share the same language, culture, and history.
The case of Kashmir is worth reflecting upon. Despite a shared cultural identity, subtle forms of stratification continue to exist. Distinctions are often drawn between urban and rural populations, between those considered sophisticated and those perceived as less refined. Nomenclatures have emerged over time, often studded with stereotypes and negative images of one another.
Take, for example, the farmer from a village. The term “Gruess” is often used for the farmer working in the fields. At one level, it merely refers to an occupation. At another level, it can carry assumptions about status, sophistication, and social worth. The farmer enters the city, yet the label often arrives before the individual. The stereotype precedes the encounter.
It does not stop here. Such perceptions frequently determine socio-cultural interactions, influence relationships, and shape the invisible boundaries within society. Sociological works produced locally have highlighted how stratification and status distinctions continue to exist within Kashmiri society despite broader claims of egalitarianism.
The lesson is simple. Ethnocentrism is not merely a problem of civilizations. It is also a problem of neighbourhoods, classes, occupations, and everyday interactions. It can be found wherever one group begins to believe that it possesses a superior claim to dignity and wisdom over another.
The way forward perhaps lies in cultural relativism. Cultural relativism does not ask us to abandon our traditions or identities. Rather, it asks us to understand people within their own social and historical contexts. It reminds us that every culture has something to teach and something to learn. No civilization, religion, class, or community possesses a monopoly on truth.
The frog escaped the limits of the well only when it accepted the possibility that the ocean existed. Humanity may require a similar realisation. In an age of unprecedented interaction, communication, and globalization, our greatest challenge may not be learning about others. It may be learning that others have something worth teaching us.
The true measure of civilization is not how loudly it proclaims its superiority, but how willingly it acknowledges that wisdom may exist beyond its own boundaries.
(Author holds a Master’s degree in Political Science and can be reached at ahmedsameer2135@gmail.com.)
