The Greatness Of You
The place name Britannia is said to have come to us from the ancient Greeks who in turn received it from Celtic Gauls. The Normans used a derived term to differentiate larger Brittany (Grand Bretagne or Great Britain) from lesser or just plain old Brittany in France (Bretagne). The Normans of course, were the rulers of England in the centuries after 1066 so this terminology became the de facto nomenclature for the island. Great Britain therefore, relates to size and location differences of this land mass in relation to a similarly-named nearby region of France. It is handy that in typically English fashion the word great has multiple meanings. There is the old use to mean large, and the common contemporary use as a synonym of excellent. In the popular imagination we tend to translate Great Britain to mean excellent Britannia.
Growing up, I realised that my immigrant parents had a love-hate relationship with what they had earlier termed the mother country. They adored the Royal Family, but disappointment with the reception they received in 1950s London caused them to be very critical about the British tendency to self-congratulation. Nevertheless as a youngster I ignored my parents’ bitterness and became highly impressed by the achievements of this small European island. Wandering through the 1970s technological landscape I began to marvel at how much of the modern world had sprung from British loins: television, the jet aircraft, the industrial revolution. Even America whose own greatness was writ large to all of us at that time (moon landings, Hollywood, music) was itself a creation of Britain. I learned to join in with the media-led excellent Britannia backslapping.
As age and education accumulated, I came to learn of the less savoury side of the achievements of my country. Naturally these included Britain’s central role in the slave trade - dishing out untold misery to my African forebears - but also the horrors of the industrial revolution, Dickensian poverty and Irish famine to name but a few. My reading of this history led me to conclude that it wasn’t ordinary Britons per sé who were responsible for this ambition of a particularly brutal nature, rather it was a certain avaricious section of society who dished out the pain in order to reap sizeable rewards. Many of those who were on the receiving end of seventeenth to nineteenth century British ‘greatness’ were not the fuzzy wuzzies, but rather ordinary cockneys and northerners. Yet their (still ordinary) descendants were taught to associate the achievements of the wealthy and powerful with their own humble existences. In truth, I kind of get it, patriotism can spring from pride in the achievements of others one feels are more talented or fortunate versions of oneself. Nevertheless I always found it strange to observe those whose misery is directly attributable to Britannic ambition proclaiming the excellence of Britannia with no hint of irony.
I was prompted to write this piece because of the tinnitus I have developed in recent years. Thankfully it is bearable and I hope it remains so. I have no one to blame for it but myself. Amplified music has been a major part of my life since my early teenage years. I played electric guitar for as long as I can remember, was a member of reggae sound systems for a few years from my mid-teens and later spent a couple of decades as a DJ. Added to all that, one of my favourite forms of entertainment has been dancing to other DJs. Add in portable music players and headphones, and after forty years, tinnitus is not really a surprise. What I can do now is to ensure it stabilises at its current level. This involves giving up guitar playing, DJing and nights out at loud venues. Music used to be a major part of my existence but it will not be in the future. Don’t feel sad for me, I have had great times, but I love change. And fortunately I have many other interests.
A number of years ago I visited the Science and Industry Museum in Manchester which brought the conditions of the industrial revolution alive to me. I was struck by descriptions of the deafening machine noise in the weaving rooms and from learning the fact that many of the workers suffered from hearing loss. What is particularly horrid is that those workers probably had no choice. They may have been suffering from tinnitus or noticed their hearing slipping away but they had to get up early each morning and endure those long, long days in the unhealthy mills. My overall point is that the mills were great for Arkwright and for the balance of payments of England, but was it great for the many Mancunians whose unhealthy labour enabled those fortunes? Why should we expect such individuals sing of the excellence of Arkwright and Britain when that greatness came at the price of the workers’ hearing, their respiratory functioning and worse (people were sometimes caught up in the machines and lost digits, limbs and even life).
Communities are worthy of celebration and the community that is Great Britain is no exception. However, is it rational to celebrate a community in which the greed of some members of the upper echelons has caused only misery to the bulk of the community? Why are foodbank users, those who cannot pay their energy bills and others with generations of poverty behind them celebrating the excellence of Britannia? I would hope that they would be celebrating the greatness of the Britons who ushered in Bank Holidays or the National Health Service or the five day week. I would also expect them to celebrate the allied armies (made up of men and women just like you) who defeated the Nazis. Indeed, celebrate The Beatles - four ordinary lads who changed the world in so many excellent ways. Surely you have no right celebrating the Duke of Wellington or Arkwright or a multi-billionaire chancellor of the exchequer.
On the list of my all-time favourite movies is an obscure television film made in 1982 entitled The World Cup: A Captain’s Tale. You can watch it in low resolution on YouTube. It stars the late Dennis Waterman and is the true story of the first world footballing competition which took place in 1909 and was won by a team of miners from County Durham. In a pivotal scene, one of the miner footballers (‘Dirty’ Charlie Hogg played by Tim Healy) makes a rousing speech during the half time break which inspires his team to victory
“I don’t give a bugger for Sir Thomas Lipton and his bloody trophy. I don’t give a bugger for England - all they do is keep men down a dark hole for twelve hours of the day. But I care for us, right. West Auckland!”
Here, Charlie Hogg is celebrating the greatness of the community which matters to him. This is a community he gives to and importantly it gives back. In addition to furnishing a sense of belonging, it treats him fairly and as an equal. This is in opposition to his exploited life as a miner where he gives twelve hours a day hard labour for “twelve shillings a week”. Personally, I celebrate (amongst many other things) the scientific excellence of Britons Sir Isaac Newton and Charles Darwin. I also cheer the philosophical excellence of Hume, Bertrand Russell, Mary Midgley and Rupert Sheldrake because in addition to enhancing the standing of the country, their work has led to understandings which also enhance my life. The point that I’m trying to make is think about what is great for you. Greatness may not be the exploits of Lord Sir Arthur Ponsonby-Smythe II (made up!), although you share the same nationality. Indeed Sir Arthur may be a rogue whose very presence impoverishes you and yours. Celebrate the things in this country that help you become greater. Do not celebrate someone else’s greatness which in actuality degrades you.
Having said all that, if you are minded to, I hope you enjoy the platinum jubilee. I respect our current monarch - it is one attitude I did take from my parents. How many amongst us could deliver 70 years of unwavering service? Nevertheless avoid becoming caught up in the emotional trap of thinking that everything about Britannia is great. Be discerning; celebrate - and fight for - those things that enhance the greatness of you.