Dear Sir/Madam,

Martin Jacques's comment, The global hierarchy of race, in last Saturday's Guardian made interesting reading, but I didn't like his insinuation that white people are somehow almost innately guilty of racism. It reminded me of the burden of "original sin" that Christianity imposed on us for so long, and made me wonder if it is not a substitute for it, catering for a deep psychological need in many Europeans to feel guilt and blame.

The world in which we live is dominated by European culture, language, science, technology, economics, weapons etc., so it is no wonder that Europeans, or people of European decent (who are naturally fair-skinned) tend to be seen by others as having a special, elevated status. While everyone - who doesn't happen to be a saint - is naturally bound to see themselves as having a special, elevated status. In this, as in most other respects, white people are no different to people of any other race.

If you think about it, Greeks were in a similar situation 2000 odd years ago. I'm sure there were many "inferior" Greeks, and no lack of "superior" barbarians, just as today there are many "inferior" Whites and no lack of "superior" non-Whites, but Greeks, no matter who they were, tended to identify themselves, and to be identified by others, with the achievements of Greek civilisation, just as today people of European decent identify themselves and are identified by others with the achievements of European civilisation.

Magnanimously or otherwise, Europeans also tend to equate their achievements with those of mankind as a whole. I've never heard anyone say that "Europeans" put a man on the Moon, for example, although that is very largely the truth of the matter (notwithstanding the role of the Babylonians, or that most of those directly involved were Americans of European decent). As a European, I am pleased and, I confess, rather proud to be able to identify so strongly with the achievements of European civilisation. I'm well aware that the Americans who walked on the Moon were all men of my own race and culture. Although the real achievement, of course, was not so much theirs as the culmination of European science and technology. Sometimes I wonder how I would feel if I were not a native European, whether I could identify with (European) "man's" achievements as strongly as I do? I doubt it, somehow.

The achievements of European civilisation are truly amazing and in a class of their own. You cannot help but be in awe of it, no matter who you are, and it is only natural that Europeans themselves should identify with it more strongly than non-Europeans, and just as natural that non-Europeans should tend to associate Europeans rather than themselves with it.

Just as in ancient times, many non-Greeks must have felt a bit inferior to Greeks, because of their association with Greek civilisation, so today many non-Europeans probably cannot help having a sense of inferiority towards people of European decent, because of their association with the achievements of European civilisation.

There is a natural tendency to identify with what is "familiar" and with those we have the most in common, particularly one's family, extended family and super-extended family (i.e. race or particular racial mix). According to Lord Winston (professor of fertility studies at Imperial College in London), we are also genetically programmed to favour those with whom we share the most genes. Skin colour may not be important in itself, but it is a genetic marker for a whole host of other genes, present in every cell of our bodies, and indicative of our ancestry and geographical origins. And those native to any geographical location are not just genetically closely related, they are also related by centuries, if not millennia, of shared history and prehistory. When archaeologists find the bones of stone- age man in Kent (or anywhere in Western Europe) I assume that they belong to my ancestors, or at least to people closely related to them, but do not feel the same sense of identity with corresponding finds in other parts of the world.

Xenophobia (for want of a better word) is just one side of the same coin, on the other side of which is the "love of things familiar". I do not hate the foreigners (immigrants) who have completely transformed and now dominate the London suburb where I grew up, but I hate the foreignness and loss of what was once so familiar, and was not just my home, but that of generations of my forebears.

Perhaps only primitive people feel attachment to their ancestors and ancestral home, or it serves me right for what other native Britons did to native Americans and Australians. Or perhaps we should accept that race and skin colour, i.e. their relevance to our ancestry and geographical origins (and thus, to our sense of identity), are important - not absolutely and certainly not in the way that racists think, but important nevertheless.

By denying it, especially in respect to immigration - and this applies more to Guardian writers and readers than to most - I fear we are sowing the seeds of future social and ethnic conflict.