The final fling

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I remember that when I was a child growing up in the 1950s, it was common talk among those of my parents’ generation, and older, that ‘the only good German is a dead German’.  In the immediate aftermath of a horrific war during which there can have been few families which did not suffer a direct loss, the attitude was understandable.  In order to keep people onside, there had been positive encouragement by government and war time leaders to see things in simple terms of goodies and baddies, and to learn to hate the ‘enemy’.  There were also in the 1950s and 1960s a whole host of war comics in circulation.  These invariably portrayed the ‘Jerries’ and the ‘Japs’ as fanatical and ruthless (as well as often cowardly and bunglingly incompetent) whilst soldiers of the UK and US were portrayed as brave, heroic men (invariably men) of principle standing up for righteousness and justice against the foe.  It is fairly easy to see how a generation or two could have become imbued with a hopelessly over-simplistic understanding of what has always been a complex relationship between European powers.

It was a strong current, and it didn’t stop at one or two generations – the England soccer fans who chanted ‘two world wars and a world cup’ whenever their team played against Germany were of a much younger generation, but were expressing a variant on the same raw emotion, albeit at least third hand by that point.  The understanding of European history which many in the UK possess, particularly those in older generations, is largely based on that oversimplification which sees ‘the Germans’ as hell-bent on world domination by whatever means possible, whilst the UK is that plucky little island state which stood up to them and defeated them.  Twice.  It’s a poor version of history, but as a mechanism for transmitting nationalistic sentiment from one generation to another, it has been remarkably effective, even if that effectiveness has declined over time, with the majority of younger people – a generation which has had the time and the money to travel and meet people from other countries – tending to judge the situation as it is today, not as their forefathers were led to believe that it was in the past.

That difference is reflected, of course, in the generational variance in attitudes towards the EU and Brexit.  The prism through which we view ‘Europe’ is either that of a place full of shifty and untrustworthy foreigners, out to dominate us at any chance they get, or that of a continent which has tried (and largely succeeded) to put the past behind it and come together in a peaceful and co-operative fashion from which all benefit, albeit in structures which are far from perfect.  I still see, in comments on this blog and elsewhere, references to the EU as the Fourth Reich, the latest means by which those dastardly Germans are attempting to dominate us.  And even if some more educated politicians (such as the Foreign Secretary) don’t put it in such crude terms, when they talk about rules being ‘imposed’ upon us by foreign powers they are essentially trying to tap into the same sentiment.

There should be no surprise when people like Johnson say that there can be no turning back from Brexit.  They know that this is probably the final fling for a particular view of Europe and the world; demographic changes are against them.  They need to cement their ‘victory’ as solidly as possible, and inculcate a new sense of jingoism and nationalism in the younger generation before their generation loses all its influence as a result of the inevitable process of natural attrition.  Their appeal for a return to the ‘greatness’ of the past, and their demand that we should all ‘get behind’ Brexit is, in its very essence, an appeal for the sort of blind loyalty to king and country which their generation took for granted, yet which they see crumbling all around them.  In a sense, I almost feel sorry for those whose world view is so strong and immutable that they cannot understand why others don’t share it as instinctively as they do, believing instead that it’s simply a matter of repeating the same message over and over again.

What they don’t get – and probably never will – is that the world has changed irrevocably under their feet.  People, and especially younger people, are no longer willing to be told what to think, and have mechanisms for disseminating alternative views which don’t depend on the media controlled by our ‘leaders’.  Brexit is a critical juncture in the movement from one view of the world to another.  The timing of the referendum was crucial to the outcome, and the ‘winners’ know that they can’t afford to concede another chance.  Every day that passes reduces the number of Leavers and increases the number of Remainers.  The only real question is whether demographic changes will be able to redirect the political processes before too much damage is done.  The future belongs to trust and co-operation, not the division and competition of the past.

Highlighting the article

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UK Prime Ministers, of whatever colour, bang on about ‘the special relationship’ with the US.  In fairness, all US Presidents refer, in return, to ‘a special relationship’ with the UK.  The difference between the two positions is small; so small that some don’t even notice the difference when people speak, but the use of the indefinite article highlights a huge gulf in what the phrase means.

For the US, the relationship with the UK is one of a number of ‘special relationships’; it’s not unique.  The degree of ‘specialness’, as well as the number of such relationships varies over time, depending on the perceived interests of the US at any given point.  That difference was highlighted by the fact that the UK Prime Minister was apparently around eighth on the list to receive a call from the President-elect.  For the UK, there is one and only one such relationship.  That alone underlines that this is not as reciprocal as it is generally painted.  It also tells us something about the attitude of successive UK governments; whilst they are always extremely keen to avoid upsetting the US, it doesn’t work the same way in the other direction.

The question which interests me is why UK governments are so keen on this particular relationship that they are prepared to prostrate themselves before whoever the US citizens elect to lead their country.  There’s surely more to it than the parody in ‘Yes, Minister’ when Hacker gets so excited about the photos of him on the White House lawn appearing in the UK press.

It may stem partly from the linguistic connection.  Churchill described the US and UK as “two countries divided by a common language”, but we shouldn’t underestimate the impact of direct communication unmediated by translation in the way people relate to each other.  That language issue in turn isn’t unrelated to the imperial past; one of the glories of empire is, apparently, bequeathing the English language to the world, even if that language is increasingly, and with considerable justification, being referred to as American.

And that imperial past is relevant in another way as well: there are those who seem still to regard the US as some sort of wayward child, for which the ‘mother country’ still has a fond (if not always entirely deserved) regard.  It’s yet another example of the way in which the UK establishment appear to be so attached to the past that they are determined to continue living there.

But, tempting as it is to regard all this as touching, not to say a little touched, it has at least two major problems for the citizens at large.  In the first place, it means that much of what passes for UK foreign policy is decided in Washington rather than in London (it’s called ‘getting our country back’, apparently), even if those who benefit from that policy are also on the other side of the Atlantic; and the second is that it has been part of the reason, for decades, that the UK has failed to engage properly or enthusiastically with our more natural partners in Europe.

One of the reasons for de Gaulle’s vetoes on UK membership of the EEC was that he feared a US Trojan horse in the top councils of Europe.  And I suspect that, on the one issue where a popular referendum has gone against the US’s wishes (for the UK to stay in the EU), the US policy was driven by exactly that which de Gaulle feared – a desire to have a tame voice in those councils.

Even with a Trump government for which trade deals are about the US getting what it wants at everyone else’s expense, the siren voices of the US puppets are still telling us that the wayward child will make an exception for us, because we’re so ‘special’, despite all the hard evidence to the contrary.  Just what will it take for the UK to wake up to reality and accept that it’s a middling size state in a global economy rather than a superpower ruling the waves in a two-country alliance?  I suspect that the only thing that will achieve that is the end of the UK as a single state.  And given where they’re now taking us, that can’t come soon enough.

What's in a word

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To listen to UK Ministers, one would believe that only Russians kill civilians in Syria, ‘we’ only kill ‘terrorists’.  It’s not credible; there can never be any guarantee that anyone dropping a bomb from the air will only kill those it deems combatants.  But there was another thing that struck me about what Michael Fallon said yesterday as well.  He said that whilst the UK, US etc. are bombing ‘terrorists’, Russia is bombing ‘legitimate opposition forces’.  I’m sure that’s a distinction which will be of great comfort to those being killed by both groups.

It brought to mind the way in which words regularly change their meaning.  It’s a natural attribute of any language, but changing meanings and different interpretations don’t always help rational debate, particularly when those involved in the debate stretch words to mean whatever they want them to mean.  ‘Terrorism’ is a case in point.

As I understand it, the word originated in France as terrorisme to describe the reign of terror during the French revolution.  It referred specifically to actions being taken by the state against its citizens – almost completely the reverse of the way in which it is generally used today.  In the mouths of politicians, it has become a catch-all for anyone using violence in pursuit of political objectives, excluding, of course, those who are seen as friends, and those who use violence as a means of promoting ‘acceptable’ objectives.  As a result, some people can be ‘terrorists’ today, ‘resistance fighters’ tomorrow, and ‘friendly allied governments’ the day after, whilst continuing to do the same things in the same way.  Or all three of those things, depending on who’s describing them.

It’s not only singularly unhelpful as a word when used like that, it’s also a cop-out to avoid debating, or even considering, the underlying causes and issues. But they have to be considered sometime; responding to violence with violence kills individuals but doesn’t kill grievances or beliefs.  On the contrary, it often reinforces them.

The UK has managed to get itself involved in yet another war in the Middle East, and looks likely to be dragged further in; and as is their wont, the politicians have described it as being part of the ‘war on terror’.  IS, or whatever they’re calling themselves today, are a pretty nasty and unpleasant bunch of people.  And the way they administer the territory that the have captured is closer to the original use of the word terrorisme than most of what we’ve seen from many groups to which the term has been applied. 

But I’m simply not convinced that bombing them is a path likely to meet with success in the long term.  We’re sending aircraft to bomb them largely because we have to be seen to be doing something, and this is something that we can do.  But being ‘something that we can do’ is not the same as being ‘something which will make a difference for the long term’.

Throughout human history, one of the hardest forces to tackle has been force based on an absolute religious belief.  The perspective that God demands that we submit to his will, and if anyone refuses, then they must either be forced to submit or be killed is a strange one to most of us today, even if it really isn’t that much different from the perspective of some Christian armies in the past, or that of the Inquisition.  To us, it looks dated and medieval, of course; but that’s a matter of context, not of nature.

The key point is that it isn’t a perspective which can simply be defeated by force.  It's an absolutist idea which needs to be tackled and subdued, but history indicates that we’re more likely to be successful in doing that through trade, education and negotiation.  It’s not often that I find myself half wishing that I was wrong; that a bombing campaign which kills a few thousand now will achieve its aim and avoid the deaths of many, many more later.  Such a belief would be easier in some ways than standing back and saying ‘truthfully, we can’t sort this quickly’ which I guess is why so many have adopted it.  But I can see no successful precedent for such a belief.  And nor could I bring myself to weigh human lives against each other in such a callous fashion - although that's something which seems to come very easily to governments.

Wars can certainly be ‘won’ in the short term.  But time and again history teaches us – even if we rarely learn from it – that the ‘solution’ to one conflict is often part of the cause of the next.  Fundamentalist beliefs cannot be killed by killing those who hold them – even if they could be identified, and even if the thousands of innocents killed in the process were deemed a price worth paying.  Ideas can only be defeated by other, better ideas.  Ignoring that simple reality has already cost the world far too many lives; failure to act on it is costing more on a daily basis.

It's NOT the economy that matters

Tweet According to this report in today’s Western Mail, Cardiff Professor Patrick Minford is telling a House of Commons committee that leaving the EU will not lead to the economic disaster which many politicians are claiming.  Whilst I don’t agree with everything that he says, I do agree with his basic message.

Whether an EU exit would leave Wales much better off as he claims is another question entirely – that depends on a lot more than the simple decision to leave, including the not insignificant question about the regional policy which any UK government would follow in those circumstances. But in essence, the economy of the UK in general, including Wales, would adapt over time to the new circumstances.  That’s what economies do.

I find it strange at times that some of those who claim to believe that Wales could and would adapt to life outside the UK are so reluctant to accept that the same is true for the UK vis-à-vis the EU.  In principle, it looks like a very similar argument to me.  In both cases, there would be a period of transition as changes are made; but in both cases, all the experience of others suggests that the economy would adapt.

It underlines the dangers, yet again, of an argument for and against EU membership based first and foremost on economics.  Such an argument is essentially unwinnable for either side.  Those for staying in are forced to resort to the sort of scare tactics used by Project Fear in Scotland, and those for coming out are forced to make untestable assumptions about the policy decisions which would follow and their consequences.  Voters end up having to decide whose set of assumptions to believe – or else make their decision on the basis of other factors.

And that’s the real point here.  The UK’s continued membership of the EU is fundamentally a political decision, not an economic one.  It’s about the role we see for the UK in the wider world; and from a Welsh perspective, it’s about how we see the future development of Wales in either scenario.  We can and will adapt economically to either future path, but they represent two very different futures.  We can choose to be part of a multinational Europe-wide project or part of an isolationist UK.  And that choice has very little to do with mere economics.

The unimportance of boundaries

Tweet There’s a certain inevitability about the way in which those in the UK who don’t like open borders have responded to the numbers of people travelling across Europe in recent weeks.  Part of it includes scornful references to the Schengen agreement, and they tell us how fortunate it is that the UK never signed up to it.

It’s true, of course, that the retention of border controls by the UK has prevented many people from reaching the UK.  It’s also true that the open border policy of much of Europe means that once people are in the Schengen area, there is no physical means of preventing them travelling as they like within that area.  Such a response within the UK does, though, reinforce the perception elsewhere in Europe that the UK is a member of the EU but not really part of it.  The UK’s anti-EU brigade may claim that they want to return to a ‘common market’, but in truth, they struggle with the concept of a ‘common’ anything.

It also betrays an attitude towards borders which is based on a perception that some borders are right and natural and need to be protected, whereas others do not, and an attitude towards movement by people which regards it as a privilege rather than as a right.  Both of those attitudes are being reinforced on a daily basis.  It’s something that should worry us more than it seems to.

Most of those who demand the continuation of full and rigorous border controls at all points of entry would be outraged at the thought of border controls between England and Scotland or Wales (although, to be fair, some of them strike me as the sort of people who’d really rather like to introduce controls on movement between counties if they thought they could get away with it).  But why?  What is it about the boundaries between states which makes them more sacrosanct than other boundaries?  All boundaries are, ultimately, human constructs.  There’s nothing eternal or inevitable about any of them; and most, if not all, have moved regularly over the centuries.  The idea that they are rigid, natural, and eternal is of fairly recent origin.

Politicians would be doing us a better service if they expended their efforts on working out how to prepare for, and deal with the consequences of, free movement than on using the current problems to restrict that freedom still further.

Changing attitudes

Tweet On Tuesday, the Western Mail carried an article reporting an interview with Professor Patrick Minford of Cardiff Business School which neatly – although perhaps unintentionally – encapsulated one of the main problems with the way in which UK politicians talk about the EU.  It talks about building a new relationship between the two partners – the EU and the UK – as though those two entities are in some way equivalent.

That is not the way the world looks from the point of view of the other members states of the EU.  From their perspective, this ‘them and us’ approach looks very strange, not to say semi-detached.

Around 40 years ago, I was one of a group of Plaid members who went on a fact-finding trip to Brussels and Luxembourg.  It was largely funded by the EEC itself, as part of a clear attempt to persuade various groups and parties in the UK to start liking the institution.  (It didn’t work at the time, but that’s another story.)

One of my abiding memories is of two visits made in quick succession; the first to the office of the UK Permanent Representative, and the second (after they’d obtained special permission from Dublin) to the Irish equivalent.  The contrast was striking.

We were welcomed to the first very formally by a man dressed in a three-piece suit and bow tie with a very posh accent who politely offered us tea before asking “Now gentlemen, how can I help you?” and waiting for our questions.  At the second, an Irishman in a sports jacket and open collar said “Come on in boys.  Would you like a drop of whiskey?”, before expounding on the advantages of membership as seen from an Irish perspective.

That difference in approach was more than just superficial; it was clear that the UK saw the EEC (as it was then) as an external body with which we had a relationship; the Irish saw it as an association of which their country was a member.  That underlying UK attitude has changed little, if at all, over the past four decades.

Worse, it shows no sign of changing any time soon.  Wales is still being represented, badly, by people who seem not really to want to be there.  If the Tories remain in government, and if a referendum is subsequently held, the result will depend more on whether the people of the countries of these islands share that mindset towards the EU than on whether we get more out than we put in.  But all political debate seems to revolve around the latter rather than around the former.  Who's putting the positive case?

Doomed to fail

Tweet Clearly, flags and other symbols have a great deal of significance to many people.  Were that not the case, the UK Government would not have found it necessary to exempt the six counties of Northern Ireland from its decision to put the union flag on UK driving licences.  That exemption does, of course, underline that there’s no real need to have a flag there at all; the government could simply have decided to carry on with things as they were.  But no, they’ve decided to spend an unnecessary £188,000, at a time of cuts in more essential spending, on adding a flag to all UK mainland driving licences.

I don’t know how much more it would cost to vary the flag by country.  As far as I’m aware, although they’ve used the extra cost as part of their argument against doing that, they haven’t actually revealed what the extra cost would be.  But given the apparent low level of cost of including a flag in the first place, I can’t believe that it would be very much at all; certainly not the prohibitive amount of extra cost suggested by their response.  It’s the cost of giving people the option which they’re baulking at; the cost of merely varying the flag according to place of residence would be minimal.

The second quoted reason for rejecting the idea is probably the more important to them.  It would, said the Welsh Office Minister “strengthen the UK’s sense of national identity”; and of course, if that’s the objective, then offering anyone a choice would completely undermine it.  That second argument automatically renders the cost argument irrelevant anyway.  The whole point of the exercise is precisely that people do not have a choice in the matter.

But will it actually work?  For those who already consider themselves British, having their ‘national’ flag on their driving licence may, I suppose, have an almost imperceptible or subliminal effect on strengthening that feeling.  But it’s not as if the driving licence is something any of us look at daily; to have the desired effect, the flag would have to start appearing in a lot of other places as well. 

Maybe that’s their plan.  But if it is, they should also consider the effect on those who do not consider themselves primarily British.  For such people, being obliged to carry documents bearing a flag with which they feel no particularly strong sense of identity (and knowing that it’s been put there to try and make them feel more British)  will only serve as a reminder that they are citizens in a state which seeks to impose one particular sense of nationality upon them.  And I would have thought that would turn out to be counter-productive for supporters of the UK in both Wales and Scotland.

Perhaps it isn’t such a bad decision after all.

Actually, I can understand why the UK state would seek to try and strengthen the feeling of identity which its citizens have with it.  And I don’t doubt that the governments of an independent Wales or Scotland would seek to do the same.  It’s a common theme across the world, not least because for most countries, identity with the state post-dates rather than pre-dates the establishment of state boundaries.  Most boundaries reflect the results of conflict rather than older national or more local identity; preserving those boundaries requires states to try and build an identity around them.

Whether ‘preserving those boundaries’ is the right thing to do is another matter entirely, but it’s not a matter for this post.  The problem which the UK state has is that those in charge know that they want to do it, they know that they need to rebuild a UK identity in order to achieve it, but they haven’t really got much of a clue about how to do it.  And in thrashing around looking for a way forward, one of the very best ideas that they can come up with is forcing all drivers to carry a licence with a union jack on it.  But if that’s the best they can do, their efforts are doomed to failure.

As I say, perhaps it isn’t such a bad decision after all…

Let's consider both unions

Tweet I’m not sure that ‘speech’ is the right word to describe what Cameron has finally got round to saying about the UK’s membership of the EU.  Perhaps I’m too much of a traditionalist, but a speech is normally a talk given to an audience at an event of some sort – this appears to have been an extended press statement / photo op, delivered to an excited bunch of hacks, party staff, and whoever else Rent-a-Crowd could get together at 24 hours’ notice.  Another little victory for spin over reality.

The content went further than had been foreseen by many – not least because in talking in clear terms about an ‘in/out’ vote, it was a change from what Cameron himself seemed to have been saying previously.  The much-vaunted referendum is predicated, of course, on the increasingly unlikely assumption of a Tory victory in the 2015 General Election.  Indeed, even those who aren’t particularly cynical can see that the whole speech had more to do with trying to reduce the improbability of that election result that with the question of EU membership per se.  Not exactly the best basis on which to make such a fundamental decision.

It’s also predicated on another assumption – that the other members of the UK will be willing to allow one member to negotiate a new and unique category of membership applying only to itself.  Whether that is more, or less, probable than a Conservative election victory is a matter of opinion.  I rather suspect that the other members will do their very best to kick the issue into the long grass until after that General Election.  Why bother negotiating something you don’t want with what looks like a lame-duck Prime Minister?

The reaction of one of our local Tory MPs to the unlikelihood of the EU’s other members welcoming a renegotiation confirmed, yet again, the attitude of many in his party to the EU.  “If that makes the Europeans squeal a bit, so be it,” said Simon Hart.  It’s perfectly clear from that use of language that ‘European’ is not a word which applies to ‘us’; it is something ‘other’, something external.

I don’t for one moment disagree with Plaid’s call for the vote in Wales – if this referendum is ever actually held – to be separately declared.  I suspect, however, that both Plaid and Labour are deluding themselves if they believe that the result of any vote in Wales would be significantly different from that in England.  The fact that the Welsh and English political establishments take very different views does not mean that those differences are reflected in the electorate at large.  I see no hard – or even soft – evidence of that.

Pouring scorn on Cameron for a piece of shifty political manoeuvring which is all about his own party’s political advantage is easy.  It’s a lot harder to argue against the principle of holding a referendum at some point on an issue of such major constitutional importance as this.  After all, if there is no case for a referendum on a significant constitutional issue on which both the public at large and the politicians are clearly divided, then what is the case for ever holding a referendum on anything? 

To argue that there should be no referendum, ever, appears to be saying either that the issue is not important enough, or else that the politicians don’t trust the electorate to make the right decision.  (Actually, most of them probably don’t, but they can hardly stand up and say that.)  And arguing that the issue or the timing is wrong look like fudge.  Cameron has let the genie out of the bottle; whilst he might have been trying to distract attention from an issue on which his party is rather badly split, I rather suspect that he has actually ensured that the issue will dominate much of what his own side are saying for the next four or five years.

The problem – and the danger – is that, if such a referendum actually happens, the debate will revolve around jingoism, insularity, immigration, and perceptions about bent cucumbers and euro-sausages, rather than being a serious debate about the future position of Wales.  However, if we can turn it into the latter, then it could also become – probably would also become – a debate about Wales’ position in both unions.  That’s a big ‘if’; but Cameron might just possibly have done nationalists something of a favour here, albeit entirely unintentionally.

Wishful thinking

Tweet The level at which the “discussion” between Cardiff and London over the European Union budget is occurring is disappointing to say the least.  To hear the politicians talk one would think that the only factor of any import is what structure gives Wales the largest sum of money.

It’s certainly true that Wales is a net beneficiary of EU funding.  I’d prefer that it were not so, because the fact that it is true is based on failure not success – the failure of successive UK governments to address what are, at a UK level, “regional” economic disparities.  But whilst the consequential availability of EU funds is better than not having them, no government –either in Cardiff or in London – has exactly covered itself in glory over the application of those funds.  It often looks as though we’re just pouring water into the sands.

More importantly, it isn’t structure that determines how much regional aid we get, its policy.  The claim by opponents of the EU that the UK government could direct more funds to the poorer regions of the UK if it didn’t send the money via Brussels first is an entirely fair one.  The problem, though, lies in the word “could”.  The UK government “could” do lots of things if it wanted; but it has shown little propensity – under Labour or Conservative governments – to turn a “could” into a “would”.  No surprise at the lack of trust therefore.

But the EU’s current stance on regional development isn’t guaranteed forever either.  Like UK government policy, it can always be changed.  I can understand why people think that the EU policy is more likely to stay the same than UK policy is to change; but is that really the basis on which we should make a decision about our role in the European Union?  There’s more to the idea of the European Union than that. 

Both Labour and Plaid Cymru politicians have recently speculated on what would happen in a referendum on the European Union if England wanted out and Wales and Scotland wanted in.  I suspect that there’s a certain amount of wishful fantasising involved there; whilst the views of Welsh politicians and those of English politicians might seem to diverge on the subject, I very much doubt that the views of the electors will show anything like as much divergence.

Notwithstanding the arguments about economic interest – or perhaps because that’s the limit of the support the Welsh politicians can manage to express – I rather suspect that any referendum would, in practice, be about other matters entirely.  And whilst I’d love to be proved wrong, I see no real evidence that Welsh opinion and English opinion on the Daily Mail type of attitude to the European Union are really very different.

Union jackery

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The Sunday Times reported at the weekend that the UK Coalition Government is proposing to change the basis of the citizenship guidance and test for new immigrants.  Amongst other things, they’re proposing that new immigrants should demonstrate that they know the words of the first verse of the UK’s National anthem.  The ability to sing it in tune is presumably optional, as is any knowledge of anything beyond the first verse, particularly, one suspects, any unfortunate references to crushing rebellious Scots.

The government’s definition of the vital elements which new immigrants require to know will also include Shakespeare, Brunel, Elgar and the publication of the King James Bible.  Excised from the previous government’s version of the same document will be any references to benefits, human rights, and Thatcher as a ‘divisive’ figure.

(As an aside, the fact that a change of government can lead to such a change of emphasis also tells us that the identity being portrayed does not perhaps have the timeless and unchanging character which one might think, listening to the way some politicians talk.  It’s not something objective and apolitical at all.)

We’ve also seen something of an outbreak of what some have called ‘union jackery’ recently, what with the Royal Jubilee and the procession of the Olympic flame around the kingdom, and it’s easy to see some sort of conspiracy to impose a particular straightjacket of identity, in the context of growing national sentiment in Wales, and even more so in Scotland.  That seems to be an over-simplistic response, however; I'm not convinced that the 'establishment' is sufficiently organised or cohesive to run such a conspiracy.

In any event, I'm not sure that it would worry me over-much if they were.  After all, there’s nothing at all unusual about any state seeking to reinforce a sense of belonging and loyalty amongst its populace.  It helps to legitimise the status quo.  As far as I can see, it’s something that every country does in one way or another, and I don’t for a moment doubt that Wales and Scotland, were they to become independent, would do much the same, even if the official identity being promulgated were to be rather different.  States use symbols, institutions, events, and history to attempt to reinforce a sense of identification which then legitimises the state.

What’s more interesting for me is which symbols etc. they choose.  The anthem is an obvious symbol.  (I wonder, though, what the reaction would be to a suggestion that anyone moving to Wales should demonstrate that they know Hen Wlad fy Nhadau.  On second thoughts, I don’t really wonder at all – I think I have a fairly good idea how that suggestion would be greeted…).  Celebrating the achievements of individuals who are outstanding in their field is another obvious one.  And what’s wrong with celebrating national history?

But once we go beyond such (comparatively!) uncontroversial symbols as flags and songs, people start to make choices about what to stress and what to gloss over, and those choices tell us something about the ‘establishment’ view of what identity is.  One feature which immediately strikes me is the overwhelmingly 'English' feel around the selections made.  Inevitable, probably, given that England makes up 85% of the population.  And almost certainly not conscious or deliberate - but obvious anyway.  But what it means is that the symbols etcetera used to express 'British' identity today could, by and large, simply be relabelled and used to express 'English' identity were Wales and Scotland to become independent.  It's part of the reason why 'English' and 'British' are interchangeable for many in England.

Another feature is the strongly militaristic element to the UK establishment’s view of identity, which we see not only in a selective view of history which often concentrates on wars and battles, but also in the prominent role of the military when it comes to ‘national’ ceremonies and events.  The comparatively recent introduction of Armed Forces Day is a case in point.

Perhaps that militaristic element is part of what makes me react against the establishment view of Britishness.  It’s not a particularly nationalist perspective, but for those of us opposed to militarism, it’s easy to feel excluded from, and alienated from, an identity which seems to insist on emphasising past military glory to such a significant degree.

Identity is a complex business, based on a whole range of factors, and with more movement and migration, it’s becoming more complex, not less so.  Allowing politicians to seek to define it in ways which suit their purposes or reflect their perspectives inevitably leads to over-simplification, and that’s reflected in the Sunday Times’ headline, which read “God Save the Queen test for migrants”.

But there’s a second reason for being relaxed about the whole thing.  The idea that identity can be imposed on anyone is very much in the past.  People have more exposure to a range of influences than they did when the UK’s anthem was written.  Loyalty to queen and country is no longer as automatic as it was, nor does failure to demonstrate such loyalty have the dire consequences which it held in the distant past.  Identity can still be reinforced to some extent, but you can only 'reinforce' what already exists to at least a degree.  I suspect that attempting to promulgate and impose a particular view of a particular identity is now more likely to be counter-productive than effective.

One small example of that was the question raised when the Olympic torch passed through this neck of the words as to why the organisers were giving out Union Jacks but not y Ddraig Goch for people to wave.  It doesn’t mean that everyone's gone nationalist, merely that attitudes have changed.  The days when such a question wouldn’t even have been asked are long gone.

National identity these days is much more bottom-up than top-down; people can and do choose their identity (or even identities – there’s nothing odd to me about having more than one).  The attempt, by both the last and the present UK Government, to define identity in a very narrow fashion is backward-looking.  It makes those who promote it look rather Canute-like, except without the wisdom to know that failure is certain.

Being British

Tweet It wasn't just David Melding's new book which led me to give some thought to the question of 'Britishness' recently; I've also been reading Patrick Hannan's latest work, "A Useful Fiction: Adventures in British Democracy". This seems to have been sent to quite a number of bloggers for review. It's an interesting approach; not least since I was on Patrick's 'Called to Order' programme some 18 months ago talking about blogging, and I got the impression that he was not exactly convinced of the value of the medium!

In fairness, however, having known Patrick for far too many years, and having been interviewed by him as long ago as the 1970s, it's always dangerous to assume that the way he asks his questions necessarily betrays his own thinking; as often as not, he's trying to be deliberately provocative. He really enjoys a good argument, I suspect.

And that's something which I kept in mind in reading the book itself. Patrick has always seemed to me to be more interested in challenging what people think and why than in expressing a view himself.

So, academic tome this is not; but he is a journalist, not an academic, and what we get is much more of a personal tour around the landscape of a changing Britishness. Insofar as it comes to any conclusions, rather than presenting impressions, it seems to me that it is simply this – 'Britishness', whatever it may be, is not something static or permanent, but something diffuse and vague which is both evolving continuously (and doing so in ways which many 'British' people - and particularly the English - don't really understand) whilst at the same time retaining recognisable elements of continuity.

John Major tried to define 'Britishness' in terms of cricket on the village green, warm beer, and spinsters cycling to church; others have tried to define it in terms of a commitment to justice and fair play. The first is about as far removed as it is possible to get from the everyday experience of most 'British' people; and the second is a set of values which almost any western democracy would also claim to espouse. The only thing uniquely British about the notion of justice and fair play is the idea that those notions are somehow unique to one nation; it's the sort of quiet superiority which is so common amongst the English (public school?) establishment.

I remember years ago reading a book which said something along the lines of "The English always claim that they are not nationalists. This is the first characteristic of English nationalism". And that touches on another problem that people trying to define what it is to be British come up against – they never seem to be able to explain the difference between English and British. Most Welsh people readily understand that there is a difference, despite being entirely comfortable to describe themselves as both British and Welsh.

Although the book isn't really an exploration of Welshness, I'd argue that the same is true for that as well; so one can draw a general conclusion that what our chosen nationality is, and what it means to us, are things which are constantly changing. I understand why some of those for whom "the union must be maintained at all costs" would feel threatened by such a thesis - and why some Welsh nationalists might feel equally threatened!

However, they'd be wrong – in both cases. Understanding our past, understanding the way things are changing around us, and creating our own future based on those understandings is a key element of what our politics should be about.

As Patrick points out, there is a huge mismatch at present between what is happening to the UK and the understanding of it, particularly amongst those in England (and their representatives in Wales) who seem to think that they really can hold back the tide. Trying to cling on to an outdated notion of what we are – whether that be British or Welsh – is the strategy least likely to succeed. And, to end on an optimistic note - at present, I think that nationalists are doing more to understand and embrace change than are unionists.