We think of identity politics — defining a group based on its race, religion, or sexual orientation — as a new development, something that recently emerged out of academia.

The truth is, identity politics has a long history in the United States. You could fairly say it was the basis of the Civil War.

Ultimately, this obsession with group identity was rejected. It is fundamentally a primitive concept and not an American one. The American ideal, as stated in the Declaration of Independence and later reaffirmed in the civil rights movement of the 1960s, has always been a colorblind society in which people are judged based on merit and character.

But toxic ideas have a way of resurfacing. Identity politics is one of those ideas.

The overriding question for those who embrace identity politics seems to be, "Who am I?" On its own, the question is perfectly legitimate. But it easily becomes destructive when it demands that one's group-based identity be recognized in law, corporate hiring and other areas of public policy.

Once government begins handing out benefits, protections, or status on the basis of group identity, politics becomes a competition among tribes. Every group is encouraged to see itself not as a collection of individuals, but as a bloc with claims on the state.

This is not a recipe for national unity. It is a recipe for endless conflict.

In the 19th century, the country was torn apart by a racial ideology that claimed white people were inherently superior and therefore entitled to rule over others. That belief helped justify slavery and the denial of basic human dignity. Even after the Civil War and the 13th Amendment ended slavery, it took a century of hard-fought struggle to challenge that lie and bring the nation closer to its founding principles.

Yet, starting in the 1970s and accelerating through the 1990s, a new identity politics took root in American universities. It sorted people into racial, ethnic, and gender categories, assigning each group a place in a hierarchy of victimhood. It argued that—as Howard University professor Ibram X. Kendi put it—"the remedy to past discrimination is present discrimination." Just with a different set of winners and losers.

At first, this remained largely confined to college campuses. But within a generation, this ideology had migrated from the academy into newsrooms, corporations, government agencies, and school curricula. Group identity became the lens through which seemingly every policy debate, every hiring decision, and every cultural controversy was filtered.

The competition never ends, and the grievances never resolve, because the game isn't really about fairness—it's about power.

This vicious cycle is exactly why today's identity politics are so dangerous: policies meant to help one group inevitably hurt — and breed resentment in — others.

This fracturing has become so pervasive that it has even sparked a new white identity movement. Some now espouse the same racist thinking that once dominated the American South: the idea that whites are the superior race and that minorities need to be reminded of their place in the racial hierarchy. It is the old racist poison in a new bottle.

At the core of all this is a victim mentality. "I'm a victim because of my group identity," the thinking goes, "and therefore the government must protect me, favor me, and privilege me over others." This mindset destroys personal responsibility. It teaches people to look outward for excuses rather than inward for solutions.

If we continue down this path, we will break the country into a thousand pieces. America cannot survive as a collection of rival tribes battling for government and social favors.

None of this means ethnic identity should disappear. America has always been enriched by celebrating different traditions, foods, and music. The problem begins when group identity becomes political identity, which then becomes a demand for unequal treatment under the law.

The solution is not a new one. It's 250 years old: the founding belief that all men are created equal and endowed by their Creator with the rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness—rights government is supposed to secure, not assign according to race or tribe.

A colorblind society does not mean pretending that injustice in the past never happened. It means refusing to let the injustices of the past become the blueprint for the future. It means rejecting both the old racism of white supremacy and the new tribalism that insists every question must be answered through the lens of identity. It means telling every child: you are not a prisoner of your group. You are an individual, responsible for your choices, capable of excellence, and entitled to equal treatment.

That is the American promise. Not group privilege, but individual liberty. Not racial spoils, but equal justice. Not a fractured nation, but one people bound together by a shared commitment to freedom, merit, and opportunity.

Andre Archie, associate professor of philosophy at Colorado State University, wrote this for Prager University.