Flags

Flags

Some scary looking boys from a notorious estate staggered by my house at the weekend, waving ‘the’ flag and shouting “En-ger-land” and making every effort to intimidate passers by. Went on for ages. So drunk they moved very, very slowly. Horrible hectoring voices trailing-off for about a quarter of an hour.

When I mention such incidents to my flag waving colleagues (nice people, etc) they condemn it but then bang on Tony Parsons-like about there being nothing wrong with national pride, just a few idiots spoiling the flag for the rest of us, and so on. I don’t think this is good enough. I think that there is something malignant at the heart of all patriotism, however sophisticated the flag wavers might consider themselves (and yes I include George Orwell’s patriotism in this!)

At the risk of being called a snob or a fascist, why is it that the most insane flag bearers at present are those who are commonly stereotyped as politically ignorant (cab drivers, building workers, Sun readers, etc) or people who for one reason or another aren’t getting much creative or material satisfaction from this world, like my scary neighbours?

I think the answer’s obvious. For certain kinds of frustration, patriotism is a comfort. If you don’t feel you’ve achieved much in life or done much to feel proud about, or if international politics comes across as a huge confusing mess (as the BBC does its best to make it) flags are a dummy to suck on. They’re a means of associating yourself with the ‘good works’ of others without having to undergo the messy business of doing something worthwhile yourself. Without actually being at Dunkirk in 1940 or actually being Geoff Hurst in 1966 you can associate yourself with these celebrated events by waiving a piece of cloth about.

Not that I’m claiming immunity. I drew a great deal of comfort from patriotism as a child. The fact that a British television programme had done well internationally (or, holy of holy, done well in the US) was enough to send shivers down my spine. Although I had achieved nothing I was getting-off on the buzz of others’ deeds. Later in the eighties when nationalism became less vogue I transferred the association onto other prized aspects of culture. I would drive around in my mum’s Mini Metro playing Joy Division loudly, subconsciously hoping that women would associate me with such groovyness (no wonder I never got laid!).

It’s much the same with the punk/goth band T-shirts of today. By wearing a Slipknot T-shirt teens hope some of the band’s dubious groovyness will rub off onto them: “I’m almost them, so love me like you love them”. Similarly, people who deliberately mouth the words of songs while dancing seem to be saying to onlookers, “See how familiar I am with this culture. See me as part of it.”

I don’t think anyone of any political hue can deny that the thrill of seeing England win is a misappropriated feeling of having done something good oneself. And yet, when the game is up, who are you again? Even if England win the whole damn tournament the fans still won’t have achieved anything that could be attributed to their own bravery, agility or creativity. For many it’s back to the daily drudge of low-pay low-skill work or welfare or neither. Nothing for comfort but those nice cigarettes the health minister pushes. As for supposed political progressives? All they have to show for it is weakened critical powers. After spending the rest of the year chastising others for blindly accepting official history they themselves cultivate such ignorance. For a few weeks they actively choose to see the flag and the country as something to be proud of, regardless of what they know about the world. It seems extremely naïve to imagine that that mentality simply evaporates as soon as the tournament ends.

Tony Parsons was a trail blazing champion of the invasion of Iraq. Once the cynicism of that invasion was beyond question (obvious to all but the wilfully ignorant before it started) he claimed shock and a limited sense of shame. Yet within a matter of weeks he was banging on about flags and the harmlessness of English pride. After an imperial conquest that would have been impossible to pull off without the blinding effect of patriotism he recommended an even more ignorant, passive, unquestioning allegiance. Pull the flag over your eyes, stuff it into your ears if necessary. England’s great and I’m from England so just shut up with the reality!

I don’t think anyone of genuine political conviction would condone his behaviour. But I also think that any lefties who still insist that there’s nothing wrong with certain forms of patriotism should question their own motives a little more thoroughly. The last thing the world needs right now is British (or US) progressives feeling good about their country’s position in the world, how ever comforting it might be in the short term.