The Great British Identity Crisis

Can someone explain this one to me please?

Who are you? No, really, who are you?

When a black or Asian man plays football or cricket wearing the much-vaunted Three Lions on his shirt, he is celebrated at the pinnacle of English prowess and endeavour.

However, the vast majority of our ethnically diverse brethren -- even when they are part of the second or third generation born in this green and pleasant land -- can never call themselves English. They must settle instead for the mealy-mouthed consolation prize of 'Britishness'.

Well sure, they can call themselves English but they will not be taken seriously by the country’s self-appointed guardians of whatever ineluctable recipe for banality, conformity and prejudice that Englishness seems latterly to have become. We should also perhaps be questioning the bona fides of claims to deep national pride in a country where neither the Patron Saint nor the National poet are celebrated with a public holiday on 23 April. Perhaps it’s the fault of all these infernal ‘British’ people with their tyranny of political correctness...

And when one does drill down to the essence of what it is to be English, it quickly becomes apparent that this is no longer a nationality per se; it is a collection of racial, religious and social rules that run on a sliding scale of exclusion. Rather than for example the US model, where a valued axiom of social and political life is that ethnicity is celebrated in an inclusive society. By stark contrast, Englishness seems only to be truly established by shutting other people out.

At the top end of this scale, there is an almost automatic exclusion on the basis of race. If you didn’t make the cut as a Caucasian, forget it; when you call yourself English, white people will laugh at you (but being English,they will usually have the good taste to do this behind your back but occasionally it will be in full view; especially if you’re on your own, they're not and there is likely to be comedy mileage in it.)

But don’t think that just being white entitles you to the clotted cream and scones. Then there are the religious requirements to be satisfied. Spiritual indifference seems greatly to be prized in English society but apparently being a member of the established Church of England is no bar to this (while at the same time being a handy tool of social advancement).

Again, the state’s exclusionary nature is highlighted by the still operative 1701 Act of Succession. There remain irrational constitutional impediments to Roman Catholics holding certain offices in this country which is still largely run by a white upper and middle class English-educated cadre. Observance of a faith which does not owe direct allegiance to the state is tolerated but viewed with a suspicion that formed one of the cornerstones of this ostensibly protestant state.

Catholics were only officially emancipated back in 1829; to put this date in some more perspective, slavery had been abolished 22 years earlier. Nearly two hundred years later, an officially sanctioned discrimination remains and Catholics' rights as full citizens are still being abrogated. That kind of mindset really doesn’t bode well for the long-term understanding of Islam in this country.

And then there is the class system; la vice anglaise. Acceptance of that stain as an immutable truth seems to be an implicit part of Englishness. There is a caste destined and groomed to rule, then there is a vicious tussle in the middle ground where the aspirational bourgeoisie politely cut each others’ throats in their efforts to look down on each other. And way down below that (and getting lower by the year) is the class where poverty and ignorance used to be a fertile ground for factory and cannon fodder. All this in a country with some of the lowest levels of social mobility in the developed world...

As a member of the white working class, you may not have an expectation of much but at least you’re English; unlike your ‘British’ neighbours...

But please don't get me wrong, this is a country has produced many things I love. Shakespeare, the Diggers, the Levellers, the Beatles (even if there are smudges of Irish in the fingerprints there), I could go on; the tolerance, the even tempered disposition so fiery when roused, the humour, the football...But sadly, like the rest of us, the English have been duped, doped and numbed by the endless Generation Game conveyor belt of overpriced tat that we now call life. 


I appreciate that my views may seem overly cynical to people who profess pride in the richness of their British identity and I do apologise; offence is neither my aim nor my desire. I would only ask that you remember that my view is informed -- in part at least -- by growing up in the troubled post-colonial shadow of a our former overlords. 

So Britishness, from that perspective, was initially concocted as an English marketing campaign to sell conquest, ethnic cleansing and submission to the nations of Wales, Scotland and Ireland. What started out as a rebranded badge of subjugation was never likely to be more than a fig-leaf for colonial pretensions. Being 'British' seems to be a choice between Celtic quaintness, exotic primitivism or anodyne, corporate blandness.


The British identity persists today as a sop to the millions of people living in England who didn’t have the good sense to be born white, anglo-saxon and protestant. (Believe me, the layers of irony in the English Defence League’s leader sharing his Irish surname with one of the writers of ‘All you need is love’ are not lost on this writer.)

One has to wonder about the world our Prime Minister lives in. In a speech to the Munich Security Conference that coincided with the hard-right English Defence League marching 4,000 anti-Islamic demonstrators through the centre of Luton, Cameron told his European chums that many young British Muslims were drawn to violent ideology because they found no strong collective identity in Britain.

Rather than questioning why this might be, Cameron blundered on and invited the Germans (of all people) to join him in turning their backs on the failed policies of multi-culturalism and moving towards a "more active, muscular liberalism".

Now, Cameron knew several months ago that this Munich address would take place. He has also known for some time that the EDL would be holding a march against Islam on the same day. Either this unctuous former Tory apparatchik is so lacking in judgement that he failed to see the connection  between his speech and the Luton march or he did indeed see the link and pressed on regardless. After all, on at least one reading, that march merely underlined the truth of his German comments. Either way, the mediocre PR man cum Prime Minister has professed himself “absolutely unapologetic”. Good on yer Dave; never say sorry for the privilege and prejudice that got you this far...

In a country where the Prime Minister is happy to engage in a publicity circle-jerk with fascist football hooligans, it should perhaps be unsurprising that three mid-life crises (excuse me, TV presenters) were happy to be filmed describing Mexicans as "lazy, feckless and flatulent".

It’s just a bit of a giggle innit? Well, I’m with Steve Coogan on this one. Mancunian-Irish Coogan is one of the most respected comedians working today so we’re guessing he might have a considered opinion on what’s funny. Furthermore, he is actually a fan of the offending show Top Gear, having appeared on it three times so he’s not got an axe to grind then.

But listen to what he tells The Observer today about those three paragons of English wit: he “accuses Hammond of acting as a sycophantic sidekick to the programme's chief bully, Clarkson. May does not escape scorn either. According to Coogan, he is guilty of effectively holding the coats of his two co-presenters while ‘they beat up the boy with the stutter’”.

And how did the national broadcaster (paid for by mandatory public subscription) respond to the resultant furore?

Auntie was sorry of course but she just couldn’t see what the fuss was about. In its disgracefully self-serving letter of apology, the organisation said that “jokes based on national stereotyping were part of British humour”.

And not satisfied with the hole they were in, these effete public schoolboys and  gels kept right on digging: "Our own comedians make jokes about the British being terrible cooks and terrible romantics, and we in turn make jokes about the Italians being disorganised and over dramatic, the French being arrogant and the Germans being over-organised."

So here’s that BBC apology translated: We’re sorry about the fuss our boys caused but painting scornful stereotypes about frogs, wogs, micks, krauts and dagos is an integral part of our cultural heritage and if you stop us doing it, then you’re probably a racist...

By extension of that logic, I’m guessing that, apart from plagarism, there would be nothing whatsoever wrong with Jim Davidson doing Chris Rock’s N****r routine...