Is It Me?

IS IT ME?

(Extract Whatever happened to the English by Pat Reeat)

“It is your civilization, it is you: however, much you laugh at it, you will never be happy away from it for any length of time. The suet puddings and the red pillar-boxes have been entered into your soul. Good and evil, it is yours to belong to it, and this side of the grave you will never get away from the marks it has given you” (George Orwell)

Defining the English has now become a much more complex matter. A list of terms ranging from reserved, polite, honourable and eccentric to arrogant, racist imperialists. They traditionally drank tea, played cricket and had a stoical approach to life, everything was ‘not a drama’. Our celebrities included Robin Hood, King Arthur, Henry V, and Sir Winston Churchill to name but a few characters that I need to rely on for inspiration.

There was always a sense of pride in fair play with a mustn’t grumble mentality, though the attitude towards ‘Johnny Foreigner’ became a point of contention. Kant astutely said: “The English do not despise or dislike other nations they just ignore them.” So is this an accurate description of the English of today or just a thing of the past? Does Englishness have a future? Racked with guilt and self-flagellating about their role in the history of the world, are the English just putting their heads in the sand and hoping all will turn out for the best?

I’ve heard it said that the nearest you will get to a traditional English village, today, is in France. It is true that a Frenchman will jump into his French car, drive to his French holiday villa and drink French wine. An Englishman will jump into his Japanese car, holiday in a Spanish villa and consume Italian wine. Obviously patriotism for the English does not extend to the market place.

With most top premiership teams now being brought up by foreign businessmen and many top English premier teams having very few Englishmen playing, what is going on? When the manager of the England team struggles to speak English and so do the players, is it too late for redemption? In economics our balance of payments for international trade comprises of us buying foreign goods, and them buying out our companies. Seems fair. So has England and the English moved to the land of the dodo?

For any 1950s child it was easy. We were taught that Mr Churchill epitomised dogged English determination. We happily enjoyed reading Enid Blyton and didn’t even realise it was full of racist, sexist and classist issues. We did not see the significance of Big Ear’s desires on Noddy, or the implications of Noddy being mugged by naughty gollywogs in the dark woods. In 2009 Noddy celebrated 60 years of being a top children’s favourite. But now naughty Noddy has to be censored. This is probably so people with big ears will not be offended.

 At school we sang English ballads, patriotic songs, sea shanties and hymns. As for the terms to explain the things we didn’t like, well, political correctness would have banished a large proportion of them.

But now things are different, we have the Scottish, the Welsh and the British. How bizarre. So where do the English go? The English had always found security in their institutions. So we have Parliament, that’s a very English institution. But hang on, in the past 15 years the English have had a Government packed with Scottish MPs. Yet the Scottish have got their own Parliament as have the Welsh but the English Parliament is in fact British. Are you confused yet? If the Scottish and Welsh nationalists get there way they could be looking at the break up of the union but what about English nationalism? Well they tried to stop that by calling the English colonialist racists if they celebrated their nationhood or used their flag. But the English are now starting to use their flag particularly to celebrate the England football team. Ok so that is a problem.

And what about the Church of England? Well possibly “even God has now left the Church of England”. An institution that is so unsure of itself, its role and what it believes in, that it sways to and fro on the back of political correctness and is now as soft and fluffy as the Archbishop of Canterbury’s facial hair.

Come back soon, Cheers Pat