We are at last, it seems, becoming a nation of scoundrels. Once the prerogative of the last night of the Proms and the Conservative Party Conference now everyone is a patriot.
That is a caricature, of course. The British have never been unpatriotic, despite a paucity of patriotic discourse in recent decades. The last night of the Proms and the last day of the Conservative Party Conference might have provided the most vivid examples of patriotic loyalty but, to the frustration of some, the general public have always, openly, if unobtrusively, loved their country.
What has changed is that patriotism is now on the political agenda in a way it hasn’t been for decades. Few are under any illusion why this should be so.
The presence of what is probably (although no-one really seems to know) a very small number of Muslims who aggressively, sometimes violently assert their loyalty to a set of values other than and significantly different from those of the country in which they live, has oriented us towards patriotism as a way of responding. Patriotism is seen as a solution to the problems of social cohesion.
There is another reason, however. Falling levels of civic engagement and trust, exaggerated as they have been, have also pointed us back in the direction the thing that supposedly fostered both in the past. Patriotism is also seen as a way of building civil society.
Loyalty towards the country in which one lives is undoubtedly better than hatred of or indifference towards it. But so keen are we to embrace the benefits of public patriotism, we are in danger of asking loyalty to one’s country to do too much.
As soon as you try to load patriotism with the weight of fostering social cohesion (or, as we shall see below, civil society), you run into problems. Most obviously, what precisely do we mean by
Patriotism differs from nationalism in that whilst the latter makes a big deal of the people group or ‘nation’, and the ties of blood, language, history and myth that bind it, the former focuses its attention on the state, the political structure under which citizens live, and the constitution, law and symbols that embody it. ‘Civic patriotism’, as it is sometimes called, is thereby supposed to be a viable alternative to nationalism and its well-recognised problems.
There is obvious truth and merit in this. Some civic ‘values’ – such as the rule of law, the separation of powers, the supremacy of parliament, and the freedom, within certain judicial constraints, of speech – demand the attention and respect of anyone who wishes live in the UK. That much is non-negotiable and uncontroversial.
The fact is, however, such values simply do not stir the blood. For most people patriotism needs and indeed means something rather more.
As soon as we try to articulate what that is, though, we run into problems. Because we are such a diverse society, we find it very difficult to articulate precisely what Britishness (or do we mean Englishness? Or ‘UK-ness’? the very absence of any such word is telling) entails.
Take the idea of a national day. Given the histories of
What about the
The further down the patriotic path we travel, in search of substantive national values to promote unity, the more we end up risking exclusion, as we insist that it is my concept of Britishness rather than yours that deserves celebration. When we are turning patriotism in order to foster social cohesion, this is precisely what we wish to avoid.
So much for social cohesion; what about civil society? There is little debate that
If patriotism does cultivate civil society, American civil society should be the among the healthiest in the world, and it is not. Voting turnout to national and state elections is no higher than in other comparable democracies and is often rather lower. Whereas the early 19th century French historian and political thinker Alexis de Tocqueville greatly admired the vibrancy of
The
None of this is to suggest that the
Rather, the point being made is a specific one. If we turn to patriotism expecting it to do the job of building civil society, the example of
This argument – the argument of Red, White, Blue… and Brown, the latest report from the public theology think tank, Theos, which explores the new Prime Minister’s engagement with issues of patriotism and citizenship – suggests that we need to go beyond patriotism if we wish to foster social cohesion and civil society.
To say so is not to be anti-patriotic. In as far as patriotism means those ‘values’ – rule of law, free speech, and the like – by which we all must abide if we are to avoid descent into anarchy, it is a necessary and essential element in modern British life. But when we place greater responsibilities on it, it buckles. Patriotism can offer us the rules of the game, setting down the relevant authorities and procedures by which players must abide. What it cannot do is dictate the style or quality of the game.
Red, White, Blue… and Brown suggests a ‘neighbourly model’ of citizenship, grounded in Christian ethics and illustrated most profoundly in the story of the good Samaritan, offers the most pertinent, realistic and hopeful approach for building citizenship, social cohesion and civil society, even, in fact especially, in a culturally and morally plural society like our own. It acknowledges that the neighbourly model may not stir the blood in the way last-night-of-the-proms-patriotism can but that, if anything, is its strength. Ultimately, it is good neighbours, not good patriots, who make the best citizens. ‘Love for neighbour does not want to be sung about,’ the philosopher Søren Kierkegaard once remarked. ‘It wants to be accomplished.’
Red, White, Blue… and Brown is available from www.theosthinktank.co.uk
This article first appeared in 'The Difference Magazine.'