The Last Refuge….

Of the many words I use to describe myself, as well as words other people use about me, patriot wouldn’t be particularly high on the list. That’s not to say I go out of my way to denigrate the country. It’s just that I’m not one of those ‘my country right or wrong’ types. I honestly don’t think that anyone can say – hand on heart – that Britain hasn’t done anything bad, terrible or very stupid in its 1000 year plus history. Even a cursory knowledge of this islands history will show us being short sighted, selfish, manipulative, mercenary, harsh, homicidal and unforgiving. In other words we’re a country made up of flawed human beings much the same as everywhere else.

Naturally I like the place. It’s not that I don’t see the advantages in other countries but there are few other places that I would choose to live – Canada, New Zealand, Italy, I can see myself living there and liking it. But I have nothing in particular pushing me out right now and, to be honest, I’ve never been particularly good (or interested) with foreign languages so Italy is more of a homage to pleasant memories than an actual living destination.

My American readers who’ve visited Blighty will no doubt have noticed or mentioned the lack of public flag flying. If you made it out of London what few flags you did see probably vanished completely after you left the M25 corridor. We’re not that big on flags (except during the World Cup) or flag waving (except at the Last Night of the Proms) and I’ve never been enamoured by the Union Flag (no matter what you hear to the contrary it’s only a Union Jack when it’s hanging from the back of a boat). Oddly, until recently, you were far more likely to see a Union flag on a hotel building rather than a government one. I think the present Conservative government changed that and it’s about the only thing I found myself agreeing with. Government buildings *should* fly the national flag and, where they can, the EU flag too – until next April anyway!).

Our national pride is, except at global sporting events, all rather low key. It was even, again until comparatively recently, all very embarrassing to be seen as particularly patriotic. These days, and with something behind it, we are expected to be somewhat ashamed of our nation’s past with the Empire front and centre in the ‘something to be ashamed of’ category. Despite many good things that Empire did bring that can’t really compete with all the bad stuff we ended up doing. Even our greatest triumphs come in for criticism – including our part in World War Two which is arguably amongst our finest hours. From appeasing Hitler in the first place, to abandoning Poland (and then France), failing to end the war then and insisting on fighting on, failing to stop the Blitz, the disasters in North Africa and elsewhere etc, etc….. Despite the fact that we were the ones who were actually attacked and despite the fact of who we were fighting against there are those who pick apart every decision and minimise every victory. I am not one of those people.

Yes, we made mistakes in the War and we made some bad ones which cost lives, sometimes a lot of lives. But look at what else we did. We stood against the Germans when everyone else they faced – before they stupidly attacked Russia – fell before them. The Battle of Britain, which is arguably one of the most important battles of the 20th century, was the end of the high-water mark for the Axis Powers. After that defeat it was only a matter of time before the whole thing crashed around their ears in dust and blood. That was us, practically alone, who did that. If that’s not something to be proud of I don’t know what is. Imagine the world if we had capitulated or lost? You can say a lot about ifs and buts but it’s certain that it would have been a worse world rather than a better one.

As you might imagine these thoughts have been percolating through my brain because of three things: Over the last few weeks I have watched ‘Dunkirk’ and ‘Darkest Hour’ on DVD (after watching both at the cinema when they came out) and I’ve been reading a book about The Battle of Britain. I’ve actually developed quite a craze about the period and have collected a number of books (inevitably) on Churchill taking up the role of PM, the Dunkirk rescue and the people involved both then and during the later battle over the skies of South-East England and London. It is, by far, my area of special interest in British WW2 history.

So, back to patriotism…. I still don’t regard myself as such but still I’m far more proud of our history (and not just the recent stuff) than I’m ashamed of it. I’m never likely to salute the flag or even have any great emotional reaction to it flying from a local library flagstaff. But if you look closely you will see me wiping a tear from my eye during a Churchill speech, or as the spitfire shoots down the final stuka in Christopher Nolan’s film or the tattered remnants of the flag is raised over Rorkes Drift. Maybe watching hundreds of hours of patriotic movies with my dad growing up had the intended effect. Maybe, deep down, I’m a patriot after all…..