Solidarity unites – but can it also divide? Hailed today as a rallying cry for unity and justice – from social movements to international support for Ukraine – the history of this term is far more tangled. Nowhere is this clearer than in French colonial governance, where solidarity was transformed from an ideal of equality into a justification for empire, writes Rouven Symank.
Solidarity gained prominence as a political concept in late 19th-century France, emerging in response to class conflict, economic downturns, and rising nationalism after the Franco-Prussian War and the Paris Commune of 1871. The sociologist Émile Durkheim became a key figure in this context, theorising solidarity as the glue holding societies together.
Durkheim introduced two forms of solidarity in his seminal work, The Division of Labour in Society (1893). “Mechanical solidarity” referred to traditional societies bound by shared beliefs and values, while “organic solidarity” described modern, diverse societies held together by mutual dependence created by specialised roles and jobs.
These are typically understood as a temporal distinction marking Europe’s shift from traditional to modern societies. But as I explore in a recent article for American Political Science Review, Durkheim’s ideas actually drew heavily on colonial ethnographies from outside Europe…
Echoes of empire: Solidarity’s hidden roots
As Durkheim was writing The Division of Labour, France was aggressively expanding its colonial territories, which increased nearly tenfold between 1870 and 1913. This imperial backdrop deeply influenced Durkheim’s conception of solidarity, particularly of mechanical solidarity as a simpler, more “primitive” social form.
Durkheim relied extensively on colonial ethnographies of societies like the Kabyle in Algeria and the Iroquois in Canada. To him, studying these societies provided a way to analyse humanity’s “pure” original state. Ethnographic data from these contemporary yet geographically distant societies were akin, it seemed, to traveling back in time.
Although Durkheim relied on data collected through colonial infrastructures – ethnographers, missionaries, and administrators – he neither questioned the methods of data collection nor conducted fieldwork abroad himself. While he firmly rejected the racist anthropology prevalent in his time, and was often remarkably self-reflective about his own position, he offered no sustained critique of colonialism itself.
While he firmly rejected the racist anthropology prevalent in his time, Durkheim offered no sustained critique of colonialism itself… After his death in 1917, however, his followers took a more explicitly colonial turn
After Durkheim’s death in 1917, however, his followers took a more explicitly colonial turn. Marcel Mauss, his nephew and closest collaborator, promoted an international theory of gift exchange and the study of “primitive” societies to support colonial administration. In 1925, he co-founded the Institut d’Ethnologie, which advanced ethnographic research and trained colonial administrators in the languages and laws of the societies they were to govern, framing this as a way to foster international solidarity rather than impose colonial rule.
Despite Durkheim and Mauss’s critique of the civilising mission, colonial administrators appropriated solidarity to strengthen the metropole’s control while framing it as a means of socio-economic “development” (“mise en valeur”) in the colonies.
Colonialism as “solidarity”? The project of integrating the colonies
This appropriation is clearest in the colonial reformism of Albert Sarraut, who explicitly justified French colonial rule as an act of solidarity. In 1923, while serving as the French Minister of the Colonies, Sarraut argued that a “bond of solidarity” between the metropole and its colonies would facilitate a mutually beneficial “exchange” of resources, ultimately realising “the great idea of human solidarity”.
Sarraut argued that a “bond of solidarity” between the metropole and its colonies would facilitate a mutually beneficial “exchange” of resources
Sarraut’s far-reaching “mise en valeur” plan promoted economic integration by expanding infrastructure and industry to bind the colonies closer to France. A key policy program of the time, its educational reforms and investment projects aimed to “develop” the colonies while fostering dependency. Meanwhile, sociological knowledge was gathered and disseminated as a means of supporting the colonial administration. All in all, Sarraut portrayed what amounted to economic exploitation as a mutually beneficial, “solidaristic” interdependence, asserting that France’s guidance was crucial for civilisational “progress”.
In this way, in the hands of colonial reformers, solidarity evolved from a principle of national cohesion into an imperial governance strategy – one which obscured the facts around ongoing control and the extraction of economic profit, and which at the same time sidelined demands for political self-determination.
Ironically, this reformist approach inadvertently fostered anti-colonial resistance. Despite the restrictive and exploitative policies directed outwards towards its colonies, Paris in the 1920s became a hub of anti-colonial activism, attracting figures such as Ho Chi Minh, Aimé Césaire, and Léopold Sédar Senghor. In this sense, the “solidarity” intended to bind the empire together instead spurred nationalisms that challenged colonial domination and integration.
Reclaiming solidarity: A cautionary tale
Solidarity is often seen as a unifying force, but it carries a complex and potentially oppressive colonial legacy.
The historical manipulation of solidarity as an imperial instrument underscores the need for ongoing vigilance in how we frame and apply such powerful concepts. In the past, policies promoted under the banner of solidarity aimed to uplift colonised societies by integrating them into the global economic system. However, this integration often led to economic dependency and social instability, typically without any accompanying political rights or self-determination.
Today, as solidarity is invoked across the political spectrum – from progressive movements to nationalist agendas – it is crucial to critically assess its implications. Its transformation from a political ideal to colonial tool underscores the need to scrutinise how political concepts evolve and whose interests they ultimately serve. Understanding its context and entanglements allows for a more nuanced engagement with solidarity as a concept – one that recognises both its potential and its pitfalls in shaping contemporary political and social institutions.
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Image credits: thumbnail image of Kabyle region, Algeria, by Zadi haroune and banner image by Grey Zone via Shutterstock.