England and Labour
A series of seminars and discussions coordinated by the University of
Winchester Centre for English Identity and Politics
February to April 2016
Criticism and Patriotism
Alex Chai
For some time it has been clear to commentators that Labour has abandoned patriotism.
This has become especially apparent since the election of Jeremy Corbyn. His skeptical
approach toward patriotism manifest in a media storm about his perceived unwillingness to
sing the national anthem. There was then protracted speculation as to whether or not he'd
kiss the Queen's hand during his swearing in ceremony to the privy council, and we have
suffered innumerable foreign policy and security disputes in which Corbyn is perhaps too
readily cast as sympathetic to the wrong people.
Of course, while this aversion to patriotism seems to have reached its zenith, this is not a
new phenomenon. But why? What is it about Labour that makes us so averse to displays of
patriotic pride and suspicious of the institutions and practices that the public popularly
believe make this country great? It is, I believe, to do with the critical philosophy that informs
the politics of the progressive left.
Criticism is a cornerstone of the progressive left. It finds its roots initially in the Enlightenment
thinking of Kant, and later in Hegel and Marx, who used critical analysis to construct a linear
history of dialectical progress.
This linear conception of history, exemplified in the Idea of Progress, underpins how we as
the left approach our politics. It is a forward looking philosophy, ascendant and aspirational.
It stands in direct opposition to the conservatism mostly widely espoused by political parties
on the right, whose philosophy of history borrows heavily from the Fall of Man. While we
situate our utopia in the future, the Conservatives place theirs in the past. Conservatism of
this kind views human history as a precipitous decline from a preceding age of economic
abundance and social harmony, and regards its efforts as chiefly restorative and
preservative in nature.
As the left, we often find ourselves critical of the status quo. Dissatisfaction is what drives
progressivism; bringing our critical faculties to bear upon society is how we improve it. Our
approach is negative, as opposed to affirmative of the prevailing power structures, cultural
habits and social relations that govern and shape society.
Our tendency to value critical negativity often strays into 'miserabilism', a fixation on the
worst aspects of society, and a rejection of national pride. We struggle to celebrate what's
good about our country because affirmation is often tantamount to complacency. Our
perpetual dissatisfaction is too easily mistaken for disloyalty, and we are too often
dangerously relaxed at the prospect of being regarded as traitorous and unpatriotic.
This has meant we have sleep walked into being branded the Britain/England hating party.
We can't keep allowing our critical appreciation for what's wrong with our country to
completely eclipse the things we, as a nation, get right, and the things for which we can be
proud.
While discomfort with and illiteracy of the language of nationalism and patriotism is endemic
to our party, the right make it one of their most powerful weapons. This is in essence thanks
to their cyclical concept of history. What's so compelling about the way the right criticise
society is that they frame it in terms of a return. A return to stability, a return to greatness, a
return to the halcyon days of yore.
A slogan first used by Ronald Reagan, Donald Trump's now notorious "Make America Great
Again" baseball cap exemplifies this strategy. It is an appeal to our sense of nostalgia for a
time that never really existed, but it is extremely effective. It is able to express a criticism of
society while professing rather than denying an admiration for or loyalty to it. This technique
has been used by both the centre right and far right throughout history.
In the UK this historically cyclical criticism has taken the form of The Sun and the
Conservative Party's 'Broken Britain' campaign, a reference to some perceived social and
moral decay in which the country has 'gone to the dogs'.
This approach will, all things being equal, trump ours every time. The sensation that things
are getting worse rather than better dominates public thinking. In a YouGov poll for Radio4,
71% of respondents were found to believe things were getting worse rather than better. This
is despite a wealth of evidence to the contrary. Over the long term, we have experienced
rapid developments in technology, increased life expectancy, higher standards of living,
falling poverty and declining rates of violence.
The weakness of the critical project of the left is that it appears to reject what many people
believe is good about our country while promising to deliver an unproven future Eden, the
existence of which the electorate have no reason to believe. This becomes especially
problematic when coupled with our current reputation for incompetence.
We need to rethink how we communicate our critical philosophy, and recognise that
patriotism and socialism are two sides of the same coin. We must reassert and renew the
natural relationship between a social political economy and collective national identity.
Firstly, we need to change our critical language. For example, it's time to give up on the
‘better’ slogans. From Blair's ‘Because Britain deserves better’ posters and 'Things Can Only
Get Better', to Ed Miliband's ‘Better Plan, Better Future’, we seem incapable of moving
beyond this most critically tepid of adjectives that undersells our vision for society as a
modest improvement upon the formula dictated by the current government.
We don't have a 'better' plan for England. We have the right plan. Our language should not
seek to frame the difference between us and the Conservatives, whose handling of the
economy is widely regarded as competent, in terms of unproven degrees but in the absolute.
To say we can do 'better' is insufficiently ambitious and it surrenders our critical approach to
a paradigm in which we bemoan the now rather than herald the future.
We should, as a party, be comfortable with the symbols and cultural norms of patriotism and
nationalism. There is nothing incompatible about Labour and patriotism. We are socialists,
and allegiance to a flag is a demonstration of solidarity and loyalty to a collective. A cursory
Google image search of 'Labour Conference 2015' and 'Conservative Conference 2015' is
painfully illustrative of our abandonment of any association with the symbology of Britain or
England. Identity politics has come to define high profile political issues, from Scottish
independence to immigration, security and foreign policy. Symbols have gained a renewed
importance in signalling to people that we are on their side. It is therefore especially curious
that Labour has failed entirely to capitalise on the symbolic significance of a rose to the
English.
Lastly, we must be more comfortable lauding national achievement and telling people what
we like about our country. We need to show the public that we're proud to represent them,
and devolution is a prime issue where this pride in representation can be demonstrated. The
establishment of an English Labour Party could be a very positive step along the way to
winning back voters who feel neglected and abandoned in England, but there is a danger
that it will look like a capitulation to the SNP's dominance in Scotland. We cannot afford to
look like we have 'given up' North of the border. If we create an English Labour Party, we
should do so in the context of a (re)launch of a 'Home Nations Labour'.
Alex Chai is Director of Consensus at www.labourconsensus.org.uk.