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Who Pissed in Our Fucking Well? 

 

RICHARD HEASMAN

England our England

 

 

 

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As our cities progress, so do we as people. But do the lines between public and private life become blurred? 

1

England is a spit of land located somewhere close to Europe, in the shape of a disabled lion. Its cliffs are high and white, its beaches the cleanest and its land the greenest. It is occupied by the English, the British, the Scottish, the Welsh and the Irish – all of whom struggle to stay adequately neighbourly. Bad blood, located throughout the dusty pages of history, plague the young as they struggle to grasp why their fathers scream in disgust at the varying accents on the television. The United Kingdom, neither united nor run by a king, struggles to make any sense to anyone outside of its snowy white descents – yet plays host to a spectacular array of national bonds and unified, unwritten consensuses. So, who did piss in our fucking well?

George Orwell in one of his selected essays ‘England your England’ attempts to define who the English are, why they are so different to mainland Europeans and what makes up that national characteristic we all know and seemingly love. His conclusive point is as relevant as ever – hypocrisy and irony is the definite shield we all stand behind. We are anti-war, anti-foreign and anti-universe – yet we strove and now strive for the ideals of Empire.

When Blair announced his plans to illegally invade Iraq, record numbers of citizens partook in anti-war demonstrations – showing solidarity in wanting peace – the rhetoric of war broadcast from the mainstream tabloids ineffective in raising support. Yet an arrogant ruling elite decided that they again knew better, and invaded anyway. What happened after was typical; we forgot – aside from a minority who continued to protest – that the war was continuing. We, like our newly founded American cousins, sat idly by as a country was burnt. But something odd happened.

Since Orwell published his essay, the established press has tried relentlessly to encourage strong ties to the military, and in particular, the establishment. The British Army has never enjoyed the same populist support that is granted to their equivalents in France, where military power and might is romanticised as a defining French trait. As Orwell describes: ‘Red Coats were regularly booed and spat at in the streets’. The Army, according to the English working class, were tools of the establishment and needed to be posted far away from the mother country. The Royal Navy however, due to its small size and defensive capabilities, was greatly admired and respected.

Now, however, we have turned this on its head. We now ‘want our boys back’; we don’t want them posted abroad because the government, run by soulless saps, is providing no ‘help for heroes’. The large swaths of information now being filtered back to the mother country describes the foreign battlefields of Iraq and Afghanistan as helpless and alien, the destitute and physically disabled evidence that these wars are phony and profit nobody but those who beat the drum of war. We have become oddly humanist – yet still despise foreigners.

It wouldn’t be extreme to say that a political party that argued for isolationism would easily gain adequate support, something UKIP has learned from the pre-war policies of American government. What these people fail to see the irony of in this decision is the absolute chaos this created. American industry alone could not adequately grow simply competing on a local basis – because the rest of the world trades with each other – as all great powers have and continue to do so. But, as Orwell states: ‘We are a nation of hobbyists; from stamp collectors to long walks… and we love flowers.’ Change is for them, not us. We will remain great, regardless.

The arrogance of Island dwellers in a sea of rapidly changing currents will only favour those who want us to remain a sleepwalking nation. Petty fear mongering of differences in culture highlights the shameful aspects of our attitude toward outsiders, in particular our failure to grasp how idiotically stupid it is to comment on settling immigrants and their ‘lack of cultural awareness’ when we ourselves, as a nationality, arrogantly defy other cultures when the 5 million plus of us set up ‘mini-England’s’ all around the globe; Gibraltar being one of many thorns in the sides of the Spanish government and people.

 

Spain, a once beautiful nation with elegant coastal lines and dry, dusty hills has now been tainted with our leathery backsides and obnoxious obsession with cheap-tat. Explain that cultural trend to anyone else other than an American, and aren’t they oh-so-loved.

In a world of nation states differences are absolutely prevalent. As an Englishman, these differences can be even more startling as we are heavily indoctrinated into a wide array of traditions and social etiquette. Politeness can mean something entirely different to a German or an Italian – yet we share ancestral history and blood lines with both of these people. Culture is an artificial creation that needs continued maintenance, as does tradition – an anchor on progressive thought.

Orwell ends his essay by describing England as an animal that will stay the same throughout time, regardless of which way we face it. But I fear that without change, we will be left behind with other nations that value patriotism and nationality over mutually beneficial cooperation and evolution – and I feel this change is upon us. Already we can see religious decline and an encouraging increase in support for secular and humanist movements. Growing numbers of international students and immigration has turned our cities into multicultural hotspots which have in turn expanded with unprecedented growth and development.

We are gradually changing and until people realise that change is inevitable when money and competition is what drives the machinery of state; people will not benefit from its diversity and remain blind to the real issues plaguing our world; Poverty, Climate Change and Inequality. The well is drying – time for a new source.

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