| 8 mins read
Eighty-five years after Orwell sat down to write The Lion and the Unicorn, and as England prepared for their first game of the World Cup, we asked the Political Quarterly’s Rosie Campbell to chair a discussion between John Denham, Pippa Catterall, Ros Wynne-Jones, and Tom McTague, reflecting on Englishness in our present moment.
As our speakers reiterated, Englishness has elements that pull towards reactionary politics and some that pull in a progressive direction. While the far right mobilises around a vision of a white ethnostate built on grievance—falsely claiming that minorities and migrants benefit as the white majority loses out—others are not contesting in the alternative direction. As Pippa suggested, and others echoed, at least one of the most immediate tasks is to argue for a narrative of fairness not beholden to the far right, in an England which for many does feel deeply unfair, unequal, and leaving people unheard.
Conjuring Renan's idea that a nation is a daily plebiscite, remade by the choice of its people to belong to it, our speakers offered a glimpse of a left that had contested this space in recent history. Ros recalled ‘Vindaloo’ and the rowdy, chaotic England of the 1998 World Cup as a postmodern salute to a multicultural country comfortable in itself. Twenty-eight years on, she observed that progressive nationalism is drowned out by an ethnonationalism visible in Farage's talk of a 'two-tier' state, rhetoric that incites violence on our streets, and a Makerfield by-election where far-right parties won 41.3 percent of the vote.
But there was hope in Ros’ account of the courage and quiet dignity of the, often post-industrial, communities rebuilding themselves in the wake of the destruction unleashed by the far-right; of ordinary people cleaning broken glass from their streets, removing graffiti, giving refuge to those whose homes had been burned down. That would have been what Orwell called the ‘real England’, just ‘beneath the surface’, embedded in a tradition of ‘common decency’.
While echoing this, Tom nevertheless suggested that we should not shy away from the contradictions inherent in the lived reality of England. Indeed, while it is often said of the English that they are gentler, softer, and kinder than others, we have killed kings too and have a revolutionary history all our own. We had Paine, the Chartists, the Levellers. We have had angry radicals before that fit within the English tradition, but we so often do not own that anger, nor do the left seek to revisit radicalism, asking again what kind of England we actually want.
Practical reform was central to John's contribution, as he outlined why the search for English identity is troubled by two wrong assumptions. One is the Anglo-centric habit of treating Englishness and Britishness as interchangeable. The other is Paxman’s claim that Englishness is only authentic once stripped of Britishness altogether. Yet neither acknowledges the reality that most patriots hold both identities at once. At the same time, English interests are real, Britishness is thinner than it once was, and the relationship between the two is political, a matter of democratic sovereignty. This English identity is shaped by economic change, social change, demographic change, and by the experience of being ‘left behind’, and it is profoundly democratic in its demand not to be ignored, often working class though not exclusively so, and more economically radical than people assume, an idea of nation richer and more demanding than thin civic nationalism, yet one that is changeable and, over time, growing more liberal. Perhaps building on the radical tradition, John suggested that the argument over who speaks to England’s economic and political grievances is still there to be won, but that we spend far too much energy trying to disentangle Englishness from Britishness analytically.
Violence, as Pippa reminded us, only fills the vacuum when people lack better ways to express themselves, making democratic reform and a commitment to the task of national cohesion more necessary. Indeed, why should a young Black Lives Matter activist vote the same way as a white ex-miner, unless both can recognise themselves inside some shared imagined community? John suggested that government should include national cohesion as a measure of policy—in the welfare state and beyond—because these institutions are, quite radical, collective vehicles for the betterment of our fellows, and their organisation is an expression of fairness and equal treatment. We did not, in the end, follow Mosley or Powell, but what was the counter-story that beat them, and where is its equivalent now? Beyond sport, where does anyone see England positively represented? England needs space to breathe, and people need agency to assert Englishness for themselves.
A government commitment to nation-building, where policy is tested against the notion of fairness, cohesion, and the extension of democratic agency to citizens, was a powerful proposal. What would this look like? One suggestion was a more complete devolution that gives England its own parliament within a federated union of equals, ending the incomplete transition of a unitary British state still dominated by England itself. Another drew on the postwar German settlement, a layered identity built from the ground up through region and locality toward a federal whole. Both proposals come with their own risks because nation-building can be messy, and devolution mishandled could tip into secession, as Yeltsin’s Russia found out.
Thinking more widely, one participant asked, how can communities that may feel excluded participate in the national project? The answer: we, living in this country and going about our lives, are England. We can be involved when we tell oral histories, when we go to people where they are. England cannot be captured in one vision alone, but comes to be imagined through the interaction of its people—inside and outside institutions—alongside a government that champions nation-building. That is no easy task, but there is hope. Many of those now flirting with the far right gather to cheer on a multiethnic England team, led by a German, just like everyone else. The polarising ethnonationalism that divides us is pushed by a vocal, social-media-savvy far right funded largely from beyond our shores and, while there are hardcore ethnonationalists, once most people stop the doom-scrolling and get out, they usually get on together quite well. Perhaps we don't need to find the ‘essence’ of England to renew it.
