The word “identity,” like too many abstract words, has become a repetitive slogan in contemporary usage, sometimes even a resolute exemption from feeling and thinking. Identity is sacred; it is evident; we can only be for it.

We use this little abstract word none too seriously. We rush to build ideological camps on it. However, it conceals abysses that the greatest minds since Plato have sought to explore. We can read in the Timaeus, with respect to being and by opposition to becoming : “It is a solitary and unique circle, but because of its excellence capable of living alone with itself, without needing anyone else, and with respect to relations and friends, it is self-sufficient.”