John O'Sullivan: The history of empire can reunite the nation
[John O'Sullivan is a senior fellow at the Hudson Institute and author of The President, the Pope and the Prime Minister (Regnery).]
At some point in the Second World War, R.A. Butler came to see Churchill to voice his anxiety about the failure of the education system to instill patriotism in the nation's youth. He wondered what could be done about it.
"Tell the children that Wolfe took Quebec," advised the Prime Minister. It remains good advice, with the qualification that "the children" should now be interpreted to cover the entire population. In a poll of 2,000 adults conducted two years ago, more than 60 per cent did not know in which war D-Day occurred. They probably know even less about Wolfe, Clive of India, Pitt, Wilberforce, Nelson, Wellington, Florence Nightingale, Captain Oates or Churchill himself.
This national ignorance of our own history, of our heroes, is perhaps the single most important element in the current crisis over "Britishness". Nations and states seem to be formidable and permanent structures, but they are rooted ultimately in such sentiments as pride, loyalty, fellowship and a sense of common destiny. It is hard to feel these things towards something you know nothing about. Yet impressive structures can crumble rapidly, as the USSR and Yugoslavia both illustrate by their absence.
Symptoms of the crisis of Britishness are as yet less drastic, but they are serious enough: the 7/7 bombings, the rise of Scottish nationalism, the spread of cultural customs incompatible with the liberalism of British life, and even the shooting of Rhys Jones, which in its own extreme way revealed the disintegration of a distinctive British (or English) society marked by gentle manners, self-discipline, and dispersed informal authority.
This society had heroes, but it was sustained not solely by them, but by ordinary members of the public who daily upheld common standards of decency and good behaviour. It is customary to quote Orwell at this point, but perhaps a more impressive testimony might be that of the many foreign visitors who were enraptured by the Britain/England of those years. The Czech writer Karel Capek, in his 1924 essays, Letters From England, wrote: "Wherever on this planet ideals of personal freedom and dignity apply, of tolerance, of respect for the individual and inviolable human rights, there you will find the cultural inheritance of England, which is the home of civilised people. If you were a little boy, you would know that you could trust them [the English] more than yourself …"...
Read entire article at Telegraph (UK)
At some point in the Second World War, R.A. Butler came to see Churchill to voice his anxiety about the failure of the education system to instill patriotism in the nation's youth. He wondered what could be done about it.
"Tell the children that Wolfe took Quebec," advised the Prime Minister. It remains good advice, with the qualification that "the children" should now be interpreted to cover the entire population. In a poll of 2,000 adults conducted two years ago, more than 60 per cent did not know in which war D-Day occurred. They probably know even less about Wolfe, Clive of India, Pitt, Wilberforce, Nelson, Wellington, Florence Nightingale, Captain Oates or Churchill himself.
This national ignorance of our own history, of our heroes, is perhaps the single most important element in the current crisis over "Britishness". Nations and states seem to be formidable and permanent structures, but they are rooted ultimately in such sentiments as pride, loyalty, fellowship and a sense of common destiny. It is hard to feel these things towards something you know nothing about. Yet impressive structures can crumble rapidly, as the USSR and Yugoslavia both illustrate by their absence.
Symptoms of the crisis of Britishness are as yet less drastic, but they are serious enough: the 7/7 bombings, the rise of Scottish nationalism, the spread of cultural customs incompatible with the liberalism of British life, and even the shooting of Rhys Jones, which in its own extreme way revealed the disintegration of a distinctive British (or English) society marked by gentle manners, self-discipline, and dispersed informal authority.
This society had heroes, but it was sustained not solely by them, but by ordinary members of the public who daily upheld common standards of decency and good behaviour. It is customary to quote Orwell at this point, but perhaps a more impressive testimony might be that of the many foreign visitors who were enraptured by the Britain/England of those years. The Czech writer Karel Capek, in his 1924 essays, Letters From England, wrote: "Wherever on this planet ideals of personal freedom and dignity apply, of tolerance, of respect for the individual and inviolable human rights, there you will find the cultural inheritance of England, which is the home of civilised people. If you were a little boy, you would know that you could trust them [the English] more than yourself …"...