In Thrall to St George

The Guardian, 27 June

[NB. Postscript below]

As has been widely noted, this World Cup has witnessed an unprecedented display of England flags. Less noted is the fact that this display is far more extensive than in other countries. There’s no parallel, for example, in Holland and Italy, though both boast fanatical football cultures.

We’re not talking about flags at the matches; that’s a long-standing tradition, a means of affirming one’s loyalty in the face of opponents. But why are so many people in England eager to let their neighbours know how fervently they support the England team? What’s the message being sent here?

It’s said the flag betokens Englishness, that mysterious something we are said to have in common, the larger entity that the eleven guys busting a gut in Germany somehow represent. But it remains a difficult entity to define. England is not a nation-state or significant political unit. And Englishness is a category vague enough to accommodate radically opposed ideas of what being English might be. Crucially, it carries both ethnic and national connotations (though the usage is increasingly contested, being “English” is frequently a synonym for being white native-born English.)

For years, English national identity did not have to be asserted because it was a given, an identity of privilege, both within the UK and across the empire. Its re-emergence as a popular concern has been attributed to immigration, the European Union, Scottish and Welsh devolution, globalisation. For Europhobes and racists, English identity is under siege; its reassertion is a fightback against alien forces. For many others, however, the new interest in Englishness is an effort to fashion a modern and modest niche in a plural world. And between the two positions, there’s an area of uncertainty, where, I suspect, many of the flag-flyers find themselves.

Re-casting English national identity as forward-looking, inclusive, free of chauvinist aggression, is a more complicated business than merely “reclaiming” the St George’s flag from the far right (which is not in the least depressed to see its favoured emblem so widely adopted). The reclaimers want to skip over a vital step in the process: a realistic collective examination of British imperial history and Britain’s current role in the world. In a climate shaped by paranoia about immigration, demands that minorities “integrate”, the war on terror and the presence of British troops in Iraq and Afghanistan, an uncritical, ahistorical celebration of England remains, at the least, problematic.

Take the recent Nike centre-spreads featuring an exultant Wayne Rooney with arms outstretched, naked chest and face anointed with a red cross. This disturbing image was annotated only by the swoosh and the slogan “Just do it”. St Wayne, martyr and winner, bearer of the aspirations of the nation and embodiment of the neo-liberal cult of individual enterprise. What’s most alarming is that, presumably, the US-based multi-national deployed this quasi-religious, blood-and-soil visual discourse because their researchers told them it would sell the product in the target market.

Then there are the references to World War II, or more precisely, to movies about World War II. This isn’t merely the obsession of a minority of wayward fans in Germany. One of the best-selling World Cup songs is Jimmy Pursey’s Hurry Up England, which name checks both The Great Escape and A Bridge Too Far. Here the anti-fascist aspect of the war is largely subordinated to anti-German sentiment, which is why the recent joint memorial visit to Dachau by English and German fans is to be applauded.

But what can progressive fans do about the national anthem? What’s bellowed out from the terraces is a paean to a monarch, without reference to democracy, England or the English.

The World Cup is a unique and compelling event, to be relished by any sports fan. But it is perfectly possible to enjoy it to the full, and indeed to support England, while at the same time questioning its social impact.

This issue is not about council estate patriots vs middle class cosmopolitans. On the contrary, the New Labour supporting middle classes are generally enthusiasts for World Cup Englishness. Those of us who for a variety of reasons prefer to support other teams, or find the flag-waving disturbing, have been rounded on as perverse and out-of-step. Of course, there’s nothing inherently reactionary, racist or xenophobic about supporting England. But that the new Englishness has rapidly become so prescriptive, so assertively normative, suggests that it’s not so different from the older versions.

Should displays of nationalist zeal be treated with scepticism or anxiety only when they take place in other countries?

Postscript:

Racist attacks after England game
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/west_midlands/5138882.stm

Portuguese family attacked by World Cup mob
http://www.newsandstar.co.uk/news/viewarticle.aspx?id=385523