There is no future In England’s dreaming

Ben Wildsmith 

A couple of weeks ago, when Caerphilly defied media hype and elected an ordinary, sensible resident to represent it in the Senedd, it reflected an aspect of Welsh culture that is under appreciated.

Unflappable stoicism is something that’s often claimed for the wider UK, or England in particular. The imperialist cliché marries a clipped, RP accent to the notion of a ‘stiff upper lip’; it’s the staple fantasy of the English upper class as selfless, stalwart defenders of the realm.

In contrast, the Celtic nations are assigned identities that foreground emotional responses to life, suggesting an artistic cast of mind that is entertaining but unreliable.

This manifest nonsense has never stood up outside of cheap fiction, and the faintly hysterical rise and fall of Reform UK over the course of the Caerphilly by-election exposed it once again.

The bombast of the party’s campaign, all dire warnings and egotistical walkabouts, was shipwrecked on the calm, local concerns of voters who are far less impressed by emotional appeals than Farage & Co. assumed.

Reform UK is, I suggest, an expression of the ongoing identity crisis through which England is stumbling.

The death of Elizabeth II was always going to have far-reaching implications in a culture that prefers its tone to be set from on high. The old queen managed, authentically or not, to embody the ‘Keep Calm & Carry On’ fantasy of self-regard that smothered regional identities in England and kept dissenting voices politely hushed.

The emotional incontinence of her surviving family reflects a truer picture of England in the 21st Century: a place that is stripped of purpose since the world turned against its imperial history.

Pomp just looks tawdry in reduced circumstances, and, by God, are circumstances reducing alarmingly quickly.

As Andrew Windsor Mountbatten’s titles and privileges were stripped from him and hurled on to the fire that is engulfing everything he believes in, England changed forever.

If a prince can cease to be a prince, then so can a king, and if a king reigns subject to public approval, then he doesn’t rule at all. But there is no revolutionary tradition in English society, its rebels bimble around in the laughable incompetence of ‘Your Party’ (and you’ll cry if you want to), or the middle-class niceties of the Greens.

Ferocious 

The ferocious element of society is traditionally loyal to the Crown, the flag, and the armed forces. Now, with the king unpopular and his wider family held up to disgust and ridicule, that trifecta has been destabilised.

If royalty ever had a purpose, it was to enforce a peculiar form of radicalised politeness over its supporters. Now that the inscrutable, white gloved tyranny of ‘Yes Ma’am’ toadying to Queen Elizabeth has been abandoned, England is left to worship its flags and armed forces as crudely as it wishes.

A monarchy that abandons its monarch is in search of a dictator, and the fondness of many supposed patriots for Donald Trump suggests that they aren’t too fussy about who it is. A big, parent-shaped hole has appeared in their lives, and they want it filling pronto.

Culture in Wales is largely communitarian rather than hierarchical. The nonconformist origins of much that we recognise as distinctly Welsh social characteristics militates against grandeur in our public life.

There is a large minority who enjoy sparkly hats and hastily-invented investiture ceremonies, but they are outliers in a nation that actively distrusts class as a categorisation.

Existential crisis

Everything from the royal family to the Church of England, to the Labour Party, the Conservative Party and the BBC is in existential crisis over the border. None of the institutions that have traditionally sought to embody the values of England now command respect amongst the populace.

Further chaos is inevitable as a result.

How much of that hysteria we permit to bleed over the border into Cymru is a matter for us to consider seriously.

The fate of ‘Welsh’ Labour reflects a failure to stand apart from its English masters and promote the communitarian values upon which it was founded.

In Caerphilly, voters opted for modesty, calmness, and decency; for politics that focussed on tangible issues that could be addressed practically. This week, Lindsay Whittle MS is campaigning to prevent traffic problems being exacerbated by a new McDonalds in his constituency. His former opponent, Llyr Powell, is on X talking about ‘globalism’, ‘green madness’ and ‘DEI hires.’

England was never the calm, stoic place it presents in the movies. Its culture is dependent on enforcement from the top, instead of consensus from the bottom. That is inherently unstable and the choppy waters of 21st century life have splintered its hull irrevocably.

As the wreckage floats towards us, we should steer away. It is vulnerable to pirates.