← Gone Away
Jingoism
(This article forms part of the Journal that I am writing to describe my impressions of America since arrival in September, 2004. To begin reading this Journal from the beginning, click here.)
As I have mentioned elsewhere, I am not a political animal. My view has always been that, as long as the politicians left me alone, I would do the same for them. This has worked for me over a long period, particularly in Britain, where the most important political decisions involve the price of beer and the use of speed cameras to catch unwary motorists.
But there must be something in the air in America, for I find myself beginning to take note of political events here. Today is Inaugural Day, when the incoming President makes a speech and takes the oath of office, so it may be appropriate for me to reveal just a few of my political impressions at this point.
I am ancient enough to remember a time when Britain's now-faded empire was still in existence, although the dismantling of that edifice had already begun. As a child I sometimes marveled at my good fortune to be born British, aware that this happy chance entitled me to certain advantages not bestowed upon other nationalities. In those innocent and short-sighted days we had no inkling that the scattered areas of pink on the map were about to change color forever and there remained a sense of pride in the fact that our ancestors had accumulated a third of the world's land area. Being so young, I had no understanding of the clear signs that the end was nigh.
In the years that followed, we watched as the empire crumbled and fell apart. As a teenager, I came to accept that this was inevitable, that our little island could no longer afford the huge cost of maintaining such a vast and disparate empire. Change was everywhere and we were dead leaves adrift in the storm.
I learned, too, that we should feel shame at building such a monolith in the first place, that our wealth and power was derived from the colonization and oppression of others not so fortunate as to be born British. Against this I could protest that the empire had brought benefits, too, benefits of education and medicine and order. But this came, apparently, from my predilection to see the world only through the eyes of Western civilization; there were other equally valid viewpoints from which that civilization appeared wholly evil. In the face of the prevailing wisdom, I grew silent, pretending not to know from experience that the empire was often a mutually beneficial arrangement for both rulers and ruled.
There remained a shred of pride in the fact that the British Empire was the first to dismember itself voluntarily. All others in history had held on to the last, refusing to understand that their time had passed. At least in this, we had tried to do the honorable thing, accepting defeat gracefully, as they say.
In my time in England, I watched my country coming to terms with the loss of empire. Although the empire was never mentioned, being such a shameful and disgraceful episode in our history, it loomed over our political thinking, the adjustment from being a world power to a small nation of very little account too great a change to be digested in a moment. I believe that Britain wrestles with this still.
And now I find myself in America. In some respects, this is like going back a hundred years to another era. Gone is the world weary cynicism of the modern British outlook, the unspoken apology for past sins of empire, the pretense at world power play whilst trimming the budget to field a miniature army. Here there is confidence and determination, a willingness to accept the role of sole world power and a certainty of national destiny that died in Britain a century ago.
In watching the Americans explore the pre-eminence that the demise of the Soviet Union has thrust upon them, I am so often reminded of a word that came into use in Britain before the First World War. That word has fallen into disrepute now, being taken as an indication of bigotry and xenophobia, yet its origins lie in an attitude that was merely realistic at the time. As Germany and the rest of Europe armed for the coming conflict, a saying became widespread in Britain: "We don't want to fight but, by jingo, if we do..." The word "jingoism" was born.
As I mentioned, jingoism has a bad reputation now, but I do not mean it so. To me, there seems nothing wrong with a desire not to go to war but a resolve to fight well if one does. The world would have a less bloody history had more countries been so unwilling to make war on others. And tell me this: has there ever been a nation that didn't fight to its utmost once war has begun? No, in my view, jingoism is not something to be despised but rather a sensible response to the threat of conflict.
Am I accusing the Americans of jingoism? I suppose I am, but in the nicest possible way. I applaud both their distaste for war and their willingness to see it through once started. There are those who would disown the so-called war in Iraq, insisting that the whole business was begun in error, yet proposing no other solution than completing the job now that it is under way. Yet I think they have short memories for I recall only an urgent desire in the heart of the nation to ensure that no atrocity like the Twin Towers ever happened again. At the time, I heard no dissenting American voices from the stated policy of hunting down terrorism wherever it found refuge.
Patriotism is still a good thing in America. Even those who disagree with present government initiatives are patriots with the good of the nation as their stated ideal. To live in America is to learn just how unfashionable patriotism has become in Britain, at least in England. There it is seen as the root cause of all wars, something that breeds only hate and dissension, that should be sublimated in some mystical pan-European submission to the great god Euro.
But I think they have it wrong. Patriotism can be the enjoyment and pride of one's nation, not necessarily to the exclusion of all others. There is no insistence in patriotism that other nations be despised; merely that there is recognition of the qualities and achievements of one's own nation, with full recognition of the distinctiveness and worthiness of other nations, too.
You might hear Americans say quite openly that their nation is "the best in the world". But before you react with bruised pride and defensiveness, I suggest you look in their eyes. There is an element of amusement, a suggestion of tongue in cheek there. Being fully aware that they are the descendants of immigrant stock, they know that, in some ways, it is a preposterous statement. Yet they also know that there is an element of truth in it, for it is the nation that took them in and allowed them the freedom to be whoever they might. They have good reason to be proud of their nation. Indeed, it is a necessary thing, since the USA is so new in the context of history and it has required care to build so diverse a population into a unified and cohesive whole. Hence the pledge of allegiance, the pomp and circumstance surrounding the flag, the martial music on state occasions, the establishment of Thanksgiving as a tradition, so many reminders to the immigrant that now you are an American.
I speak in generalizations, of course. This United States is so vast and contains so many different people groups, climates, landscapes and professions that there will be exceptions to any statement I care to make. Yet I do believe that there is an ethos, a binding tie that unites all nations, and it is in generalization that we might glimpse some evidence of this.
I experience it all and the great flow of life in America washes over me. Let us say that what I have written here is an interim reaction, a first impression that will deepen and broaden as time goes on. Who knows? It might even be possible that I will become American in the end. But I will always be English - they can't take that away from me.
(to go directly to the next entry in the Journal, click here)
As I have mentioned elsewhere, I am not a political animal. My view has always been that, as long as the politicians left me alone, I would do the same for them. This has worked for me over a long period, particularly in Britain, where the most important political decisions involve the price of beer and the use of speed cameras to catch unwary motorists.
But there must be something in the air in America, for I find myself beginning to take note of political events here. Today is Inaugural Day, when the incoming President makes a speech and takes the oath of office, so it may be appropriate for me to reveal just a few of my political impressions at this point.
I am ancient enough to remember a time when Britain's now-faded empire was still in existence, although the dismantling of that edifice had already begun. As a child I sometimes marveled at my good fortune to be born British, aware that this happy chance entitled me to certain advantages not bestowed upon other nationalities. In those innocent and short-sighted days we had no inkling that the scattered areas of pink on the map were about to change color forever and there remained a sense of pride in the fact that our ancestors had accumulated a third of the world's land area. Being so young, I had no understanding of the clear signs that the end was nigh.
In the years that followed, we watched as the empire crumbled and fell apart. As a teenager, I came to accept that this was inevitable, that our little island could no longer afford the huge cost of maintaining such a vast and disparate empire. Change was everywhere and we were dead leaves adrift in the storm.
I learned, too, that we should feel shame at building such a monolith in the first place, that our wealth and power was derived from the colonization and oppression of others not so fortunate as to be born British. Against this I could protest that the empire had brought benefits, too, benefits of education and medicine and order. But this came, apparently, from my predilection to see the world only through the eyes of Western civilization; there were other equally valid viewpoints from which that civilization appeared wholly evil. In the face of the prevailing wisdom, I grew silent, pretending not to know from experience that the empire was often a mutually beneficial arrangement for both rulers and ruled.
There remained a shred of pride in the fact that the British Empire was the first to dismember itself voluntarily. All others in history had held on to the last, refusing to understand that their time had passed. At least in this, we had tried to do the honorable thing, accepting defeat gracefully, as they say.
In my time in England, I watched my country coming to terms with the loss of empire. Although the empire was never mentioned, being such a shameful and disgraceful episode in our history, it loomed over our political thinking, the adjustment from being a world power to a small nation of very little account too great a change to be digested in a moment. I believe that Britain wrestles with this still.
And now I find myself in America. In some respects, this is like going back a hundred years to another era. Gone is the world weary cynicism of the modern British outlook, the unspoken apology for past sins of empire, the pretense at world power play whilst trimming the budget to field a miniature army. Here there is confidence and determination, a willingness to accept the role of sole world power and a certainty of national destiny that died in Britain a century ago.
In watching the Americans explore the pre-eminence that the demise of the Soviet Union has thrust upon them, I am so often reminded of a word that came into use in Britain before the First World War. That word has fallen into disrepute now, being taken as an indication of bigotry and xenophobia, yet its origins lie in an attitude that was merely realistic at the time. As Germany and the rest of Europe armed for the coming conflict, a saying became widespread in Britain: "We don't want to fight but, by jingo, if we do..." The word "jingoism" was born.
As I mentioned, jingoism has a bad reputation now, but I do not mean it so. To me, there seems nothing wrong with a desire not to go to war but a resolve to fight well if one does. The world would have a less bloody history had more countries been so unwilling to make war on others. And tell me this: has there ever been a nation that didn't fight to its utmost once war has begun? No, in my view, jingoism is not something to be despised but rather a sensible response to the threat of conflict.
Am I accusing the Americans of jingoism? I suppose I am, but in the nicest possible way. I applaud both their distaste for war and their willingness to see it through once started. There are those who would disown the so-called war in Iraq, insisting that the whole business was begun in error, yet proposing no other solution than completing the job now that it is under way. Yet I think they have short memories for I recall only an urgent desire in the heart of the nation to ensure that no atrocity like the Twin Towers ever happened again. At the time, I heard no dissenting American voices from the stated policy of hunting down terrorism wherever it found refuge.
Patriotism is still a good thing in America. Even those who disagree with present government initiatives are patriots with the good of the nation as their stated ideal. To live in America is to learn just how unfashionable patriotism has become in Britain, at least in England. There it is seen as the root cause of all wars, something that breeds only hate and dissension, that should be sublimated in some mystical pan-European submission to the great god Euro.
But I think they have it wrong. Patriotism can be the enjoyment and pride of one's nation, not necessarily to the exclusion of all others. There is no insistence in patriotism that other nations be despised; merely that there is recognition of the qualities and achievements of one's own nation, with full recognition of the distinctiveness and worthiness of other nations, too.
You might hear Americans say quite openly that their nation is "the best in the world". But before you react with bruised pride and defensiveness, I suggest you look in their eyes. There is an element of amusement, a suggestion of tongue in cheek there. Being fully aware that they are the descendants of immigrant stock, they know that, in some ways, it is a preposterous statement. Yet they also know that there is an element of truth in it, for it is the nation that took them in and allowed them the freedom to be whoever they might. They have good reason to be proud of their nation. Indeed, it is a necessary thing, since the USA is so new in the context of history and it has required care to build so diverse a population into a unified and cohesive whole. Hence the pledge of allegiance, the pomp and circumstance surrounding the flag, the martial music on state occasions, the establishment of Thanksgiving as a tradition, so many reminders to the immigrant that now you are an American.
I speak in generalizations, of course. This United States is so vast and contains so many different people groups, climates, landscapes and professions that there will be exceptions to any statement I care to make. Yet I do believe that there is an ethos, a binding tie that unites all nations, and it is in generalization that we might glimpse some evidence of this.
I experience it all and the great flow of life in America washes over me. Let us say that what I have written here is an interim reaction, a first impression that will deepen and broaden as time goes on. Who knows? It might even be possible that I will become American in the end. But I will always be English - they can't take that away from me.
(to go directly to the next entry in the Journal, click here)