Whither England? or
Wither, England!
What is your nationality? Ask a Scot, and more often than not the answer
will be ‘Scottish’ rather than ‘British’. A Welsh person would answer ‘Welsh’
first, most of the time. These assertions are based on the results of an
informal survey I’ve been conducting for the past few years. I have observed
that the Celtic members of the United Kingdom are very aware of their
constitutional position within the Union, and they are not
shy about laying claim to the cultural icons that differentiate them from their
neighbours in general, and the English in particular. In Scotland and Wales the Saltire and the Red Dragon are ubiquitous. ‘Flower Of Scotland’ and ‘Mae Hen Wlad Fi Nghadau’ (Land Of
My Fathers’) are sung proudly
at international sporting events and the Saints Andrew and David have their
days marked by the wearing of thistles, daffodils or leeks. The people of
Northern
Ireland are similarly
clear on their cultural roots – although there are still some loose ends to be
tidied up before they can agree completely on what they are. But there is
certainly no disagreement about St Patrick’s day, the
shamrock, and the ‘craic’.
The English, on the other hand, are not so concerned with marking the
differences between being ‘English’ and being ‘British’. They are more likely
to answer the question above with ‘British’. For them, there is no distinction
to be made - it’s all the same. There is no English national anthem to sing at
internationals, St George’s day is not generally
observed, and the English flag flies rarely from public buildings, with the
notable exception of Anglican churches. The English don’t even have a word for
‘craic’.
Why do the English lack a well-defined sense of national identity? It
might be that they have no cultural emblems with which they can readily
identify. There is no English equivalent to the kilt, the bagpipes or the
Eisteddfod; neither is there a minority mother tongue to protect from
extinction (the last native Cornish speaker died some decades ago, with no
recorded outpouring of national grief). It is not that the English lack
traditions, for there is a rich vein of music and dance, and mummers’ plays and
wassailing are still features of the rural scene. It’s just that the people who
participate in these activities are considered at best eccentric, and at worst,
well – weird. Morris Dancing is our dirty little secret, something that, along
with incest, is not to be tried even once, according to the English conductor Arnold
Bax. Those traditions not generally derided run the
risk of being legislated out of existence – cheese-rolling has been swept away
by the cold, dead hand of health and safety regulations.
Perhaps this indifference to nationhood is due to a fundamental
ignorance of England’s place in the UK in those who could
claim to be English. This might explain why the devolution of powers in 1997 to
a restored Scottish Parliament, Stormont in Northern Ireland, and the new Welsh
Assembly could take place as it did without an outcry from the English, who
were never consulted on whether they should also be ‘devolved’. If the English
had been alive to the issue, there might not be the present constitutional
anomaly whereby MPs representing Scots, Welsh and Irish constituencies at
Westminster can vote on purely
English matters, whereas MPs for English constituencies have no say in matters
devolved to Scotland, Wales or Northern Ireland. This is ‘The West
Lothian Question’, so called because it was identified first by Tam Dalyell, the Member of Parliament for West Lothian. It could also be
argued that, had an honest debate been held, it is likely that the whole
‘devolution’ debate would have been exposed as a diversion. The purpose of the
diversion might have been to conceal from the people of England the European
Union’s intention to dispose quietly of England as a political
entity.
This is a serious charge. If proven, it could result in serious
consequences, not least for those who have worked hard to make it happen. What
facts support it? An examination of recent events provides evidence that the
West Lothian Question is very much an issue in Parliamentary business. From
this can be developed the argument that the devolution issue was and is based
on a deception, and from there it can be concluded that England’s future is very
much in question.
In 2003, New Labour had problems meeting its legislative programme. The
Health Secretary John Reid, a Scot representing a Scottish constituency,
struggled to push through the bill that was to introduce foundation hospitals
to the English National Health Service. The bill was opposed by many Labour MPs
who felt that the proposed measures were incompatible with promises made in the
New Labour manifesto. The measure was passed by five votes. A month later,
Charles Clark, the Education Secretary, was fighting equally hard for the bill
that would allow top-up fees to be charged by English Universities. Many Labour
MPs opposed this on the grounds that it would penalise students from poorer
backgrounds and this, once again, was inconsistent with the manifesto that won
New Labour its mandate. It was passed by 28 votes.
In both of these votes, a government with a majority of 161 won by the
tiniest of margins because Labour MPs representing Scottish constituencies supported
the government’s cause in the division. In Scotland, the measures
proposed by the bills would have no effect. Indeed, the rejection of tuition
fees was one of the first acts of the newly devolved Scottish Parliament.
The conduct of these bills through parliament illustrates the very
problem described by the Member for West Lothian. It shows that, at
a very real level, there is no body effectively representing English concerns
in the Westminster Parliament. There is no English Parliament. After the votes,
this matter was raised in the commons by Tim Yeo,
Conservative MP for Suffolk South. It was dismissed by Peter Hain in his capacity as Leader of the House (rather than as
Secretary of State for Wales) as being of
interest only to those who ‘wish to see the break-up of the United Kingdom’. It was not
explained how giving England the same rights of self-determination as those
given to Scotland would cause the break-up of the Union, neither was the matter
pursued.
On this evidence, it would appear that ‘England’ has little
relevance where Parliament is concerned. A cynic might note that since the
English themselves were not overly concerned that their laws were being made by
Scots and Welsh MPs, then Parliament was in fact being truly representative of
that fact by not caring either.
But it goes deeper than that. The reason the West Lothian Question is
not considered to be a serious problem is precisely because it is not a problem – at least, it isn’t if there is no such thing as England. And from the
perspective of the European Union, there isn’t. England no longer exists
as a distinct country on the European map. This is why England was not offered
‘devolution’ in 1997 along with Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland – it couldn’t be.
It wouldn’t be logical to devolve power to something that does not exist. It is
also why what was offered to the Celtic nations was not really devolution at
all, but something else wrapped up in a box with ‘Devolution’ written on the lid.
What was concealed in the box was ‘Regionalisation’.
The European Union
(EU) is comprised of twenty-five Nation States, each of which is divided into
Regions. The United Kingdom is a Nation State
divided into twelve Regions. EU countries are committed, by the terms of their
EU membership, to create Regional Authorities to whom certain powers, formerly
exercised by the national government, can be devolved. Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland are designated
Regions within the UK. Their Regional
boundaries coincide with the borders that define them as separate national
entities within the UK, so effectively,
there’s no difference – they can still be called Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland. That much is true
and verifiable – what follows is open to debate. Or at least it would be, if
there was one...
The UK is arguably one of
the most openly Euro-sceptic, if not Euro-phobic nations in the EU. It might be
the most, although the Danes might
want to claim that particular honour. (Actually, they wouldn’t argue. They’d
let us have it. They’re really nice people.) There’s a chance we might be one
of the most Euro-phile
of countries, but because we’ve never been allowed to have the debate, we don’t
know. All we know is what the press and the Government tell us to think. And
they’re hardly impartial.
Given the degree of scepticism (or lack of trust) in this country, an
overt move to reorganise the UK’s administrative
structure to suit Brussels would be political
suicide for any government foolish enough to try it. Regionalisation simply
would not be acceptable to the British public in the prevailing political
climate. But Devolution is an issue
that has been ‘live’ in Scotland and Wales for as long as the
Scottish Nationalist Party and Plaid Cymru have been
on the scene, and that has been for a while. Why not use the well-established
nationalist agenda of these parties as a Trojan horse for Regionalisation? You
want to take responsibility for your own destiny? Devolve! It’s what you’ve spent
years fighting for! Let’s talk about it! Well, yes, that makes sense… OK,
you’ve convinced the Government. Now all you have to do is convince your own
people… Yes, of course we’ll help…
… But it couldn’t be offered to England, because England cannot be
considered a distinct region in the same way as the other three parts of the UK. In fact, it’s
nine different Regions. If you offer the people of England the chance to vote
for Regionalisation at the same time as you’re offering ‘devolution’ to Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland, they’ll reject it
out of hand. Then the cat will be out of the bag. The Celts will see that
they’re not being devolved at all, they’re being regionalised and then they’ll
go all funny about it. So, the argument might have gone, it’ll be best to leave
the English out of it for now. They won’t mind. In fact, they probably won’t
even notice!
Some years later, when the dust had settled, London suddenly awoke (or
was woken) to the fact that, unlike other major cities in the world, it had no
Mayor’s office to run city business. The advantages of having such a body were
advertised widely. When Londoners began to demand the Mayor that their city
surely deserved and needed, an election was held. Of course, the wrong guy got
voted in, but that was a small price to pay – London became the fourth
region to be democratically established in the UK, without anyone
ever actually using the ‘R-word’ in anger. Four down, eight to go.
Regional Authorities have now been set up for the eight regions
remaining in what used to be England. It has happened
quietly, without fuss, but also without the inconveniences that would result
from the use of any form of democratic process. The people of the North-west,
North-east and the Yorkshire & the Humber regions are,
however, being subjected to referendums to see if they want Regional
Authorities, but the result of those is still in the future. Allowing people
the choice is the riskiest strategy yet. There doesn’t seem to be any
information about a ‘plan B’ should a referendum come out against the idea, although
the usual tactic in such a situation is to keep having referendums until the
‘right’ answer is reached. The problem for the Government is that there really
isn’t a good, convincing proxy issue which can be used to smuggle regionalisation
past the English public. The slightest hint of foisting ‘Europeanisation’
by stealth will wake the Europhobic tabloids and then there’ll be hell to pay.
Paradoxically, if it is presented as a fait
accompli, the English will probably accept it without much more than a
slightly irritated ‘tch’. There’s a good chance that,
at the end of the day, that’s the way Regionalisation will happen.
Then there won’t be ‘the English’ any more, because England will be gone. There
will be ‘North West’-erners eyeing ‘Yorkshire & the Humber’-ites across t’Pennines, ‘Eastern’-ers will look across the Thames at the
‘South-east’-erners. Is that really how the English want to see their identities developing in a
Europe of Regions? Given the choice, there’s a strong possibility they’d say
‘no’. But given no choice at all, they’ll probably just lie back and think of… what?
The East Midlands?
I have not written this because I am against European integration; on
the contrary, I am all for it. I am happy with the idea of being European – I am European. I would not describe myself
as a ‘Little Englander’ – at least, not in the purse-lipped, venal, censorious,
‘Disgusted-of-Tunbridge-Wells’ sense
of the term. But I am English. I am English. I was born in England to English parents
and I would like to think that I, or anyone else who chooses to, could be proud
of being English in the same way that the Swedes can be proud of being Swedish
or the Danes Danish. I am angry at the fact that my country is being dismantled
with the active participation of my Government without anyone ever asking me if
I like the idea.
I can’t believe I am the only person in the country to be concerned
about this, but I don’t see or hear anybody else worrying about it and that
makes me think that either (a.) I’m completely wrong in my thoughts or (b.) I’m
right and there’s a huge conspiracy to hush it all up. And I hate conspiracy
theories – everyone knows that they’re all started by the Government to make us
all so insecure we’ll believe anything. (That was a joke. I hope.)
I want a debate. I want to know what’s happening and why. Maybe the
upcoming debate on the European Constitution is the time to ask ‘Whither
England’? Or will we just say ‘Wither, England!’
Robert Woodley
May 2004