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Saturday 20 February 2021

People who love the flag too much

 

I’ve never been a flag worshipper of any type. As someone growing up with the National Front and the British National Party hoarding the flag like a political accessory, I found it represented everything I wasn’t. Plus on the streets where I grew up I didn’t find the flag much of visible presence. The St George’s Cross I honestly would not have recognised until well into the eighties. Most flags I saw were football ones and even those I avoided because being openly partisan at school or in the street usually resulted in a punch on the nose.

That’s stuck with me despite being an England fan in sports and enjoying football. I never felt the need to wear the kit or the flag.

In 2003 when I went to work in The Hague national flags suddenly became of interest and I had to think about the flag that was supposed to represent me. The Dutch national flag which was visible quite often on people’s houses and they seemed far prouder of their flag than I was off my own. In a multinational office many people had their desk adorned with a neat national flag. Malaysia, Germany, France, Singapore, South Africa, USA. Flags abundant. But I was reluctant to get a Union Jack flag. Why was that? Here was all my colleagues quite proud of their country and here is me reticent of the same.

Eventually I brought out the flag as part of the frequent sports banter that adorns any office and became easier to showcase my colours. Plus it is fact that I cannot change. I am British and this flag is the most recognisable form to other people. England flag the same. I am as English, British as it comes and I cannot claim any other heritage of meaning. Such a claim would have been mighty hand come the Brexit years.

The striking thing I learnt in those years was not only people’s love of Britishness, Englishness and much of our traditions and habits, it was quite clear they often appreciated things I never did. The tourist sights, our habits, our ultra-long winded way of saying something simple. They seemed to delight in these quirks so I should too. It taught me to be own my heritage a little more. It wasn’t something to deny but actually celebrate.

It’s not easy to shake off those who feel patriotism only belongs to right wing politics. Especially in recent years as this theme has returned with a vengeance as identity politics grows. So I still have to fight the assumption that someone waving a British flag isn’t also a nationalist, a racist, someone full of hate for other nationalities. The thing I learnt more than anything in The Hague was, whilst we had some banter and fun poking about national traits it was never negative or competitive. No malice came with it. Loving your own country doesn’t mean hating another.

The union jack wavers I too often see at home and tattooed on arms frequently are not so altruistic. It’s a zero sum game.

I remember in the 80’s Norman Tebbit, one of Thatcher’s right wing ideologists talked about his cricket test. This meant if you didn’t support England at the cricket then you were not a patriot, directly and deliberately challenging those of South Asian or Caribbean origins for being proud of their heritage. This divisiveness is still prevalent today though the EU flag being the recent enemy of choice is all about saying you can’t be both British and European. You can’t be both Indian and British.

It works as well. It plays wonderfully to those who believe that immigration has taken something from them. Also a complete insult to those who found love for the complex and fascinating idea of wanting to be both things at once. And why can’t we? We are none of us one thing so why does our nationality have to enforce a rigid and xenophobic approach to those not born to that flag. The deeper I think about it the more farcical and ridiculous it becomes. The fact that we test people’s patriotism or love of a country by a flag just becomes silly.

It’s not to say other countries don’t have similar problems with flags and what they represent. I remember being caught up in very brutal argument about Dutch racism. It was about Zwarte Pete and the representation of slave labour. The white Dutch telling the black Dutch how he should feel about it. Always an interesting lesson in point of view when I watch someone being denied their own experience.

I don’t believe I will ever have a love for the union jack or any single flag because I don’t want the flag to define me. If I had all the flags that represent me now it would be about 10 different ones from India to the EU. All of them represent a part of me and that is something I am proud of.   

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