Monday, February 18, 2008

Come home to a real fire

Since I read a post on James's blog I've been thinking about apologies and nations. Then yesterday I read a post on Chervil's blog about the Australian state saying sorry to the country's indigenous people and it reminded me of the post I'd been thinking about writing. It's one of those posts that seem to be fine in my head, but I can't quite get it down on 'paper'. I don't know why but I do know that I need to write it so I can delete the thoughts from my over-crowded brain.

I'm not sure what I feel about state apologies. They're a gesture but can we or should we apologise for something we had no hand in, something our forefathers did? At best I suppose they're an acknowledgement, a starting point from which to move on.

Alun and I were talking about it in work last Monday and our discussion quickly moved on from Australia to more local issues.

Alun is from Cardiff. Cardiff is the capital city of Wales; many people think Swansea should have been the capital. There is also a certain resentment about the fact that, whenever money is avilable for big projects, it's usually Cardiff that gets it. Or it's seen that way by Swansea people (and the rest of Wales). So there is some rivalry between Swansea Jacks and Cardiff Taffs.

Take that down a level and you'll find areas of Swansea that look down on or resent other areas; up to country level, and you've only got to read the t-shirts to quickly get the picture. 'I support Wales and whoever England are playing.' (I've seen the same sentiments expressed on Scottish and Irish supporters's chests.)(And you can't expect good grammar on a t-shirt.)

I've written articles and probably posts about this subject before. It continues to mystify me why I, a mild-mannered, middle-aged woman who calls herself a Christian, can feel so antagonistic towards another country.

It's only in rugby you understand. I married an Englishman; I lived happily in Southampton; I have English friends. It's not English people that upset me: it's 'the English'. That strange entity that takes on a monster-like quality and becomes 'the old enemy'.

And it's not intentional on my part. I try, I really do try hard to support England and Husband. But last Sunday I had to leave the room before Husband noticed my involuntary cries of excitement when Italy got the ball in their game against England.

Is it the arrogance, perceived or real, of the English rugby team? Matt Dawson, Austin Healey, Lawrence Dallaglio come to mind. But the Welsh can be pretty arrogant when it comes to rugby!

Or is it centuries of history, of domination by a power outside our control, outside our own land? Is it time for England to apologise? And for Wales, Scotland and Ireland to acknowledge their grudges and be prepared to move forward?

No, I don't think it is. I think that would be a pointless and meaningless gesture that would fool nobody and make no difference. And really it's only during the Six Nations competition; the rest of the year we're fine. We're only joking, after all, when we support England's opponents. Really we're good friends. Just like the neighbours in Kenya who last month shared meals together and this month are killing each other.

When does the joking stop? We've seen all over the world examples of neighbours turning on each other because of tribal tensions. How easy or likely would it be for that to happen here? Impossible?

I tried to find a clip from Not the Nine O'Clock News but couldn't so I'll have to describe it. They did a take-off of a coal commercial, showing lovely hills and valleys, with a male voice choir singing in the background. As far as I can remember - and my memory's not that good! - the advert ended with the logo, 'Come home to real fire', and the image of a cottage burning. It was at the time when the Welsh nationalist extremists were setting fire to second homes.

No, it couldn't happen here.
xx

9 comments:

Anonymous said...

Here I am again.
Your point about it 'not being the English, it is the English' ! That is so right - at present it is the cursed English adventurism carrying on as if the Empire was still there that get me going.
The only sport I follow is motorcycle racing so I have no problem with team games. That is apart from loathing them.
Do you remember Ryan and Ronnie ?

Liz Hinds said...

Carving the bread across his chest! Oh, yes.

Unknown said...

Perhaps there is something in out preconscious memories that contains a need to a tribal allegiance. We feel bound to the city, county, state, whatever even though we are consciously unaware of that binding. It would be interesting to consider the ramifications of that.

Welshcakes Limoncello said...

Well, I think the sports rivalry between Eng and Wales is rooted in history, because the atmosphere in Cardiff on an Eng-Wales day is totally different from a Wales - Scotland day or any other. Having said that, sorry, Liz, I can't see why anyone cares - it's supposed to be a game!

Mauigirl said...

I do think it is meaningful for a state or nation to apologize for reprehensible behavior even if the current members of the government had nothing to do with it.

Here in New Jersey they recently apologized for slavery. Although New Jersey is thought of as a northern state and certainly is one of the most liberal states in the United States now, our fair state did not vote in favor of the slaves being emancipated back at the beginning of our Civil War. So indeed, they did have something to apologize for. In this case it is totally symbolic since of course we have no slavery today. But in the case of Australia, I think the apology comes with a pledge of trying to make life better for the Aborigines, and perhaps the apology is one way to start the process. We shall see if it makes any difference. We can only hope.

Furtheron said...

I remember the Not the Nine O'clock sketch you refer to.

But where does this stream of nationalism end? They can do a DNA test now to figure out your heritage. I wonder what mine is? My tracing back to the early 19th Century leaves us still in Kent about mile from where I currently live on one leg and the other is lost in the 1880s in Kent again but in no what is greater London.

However my DNA may show I'm from Viking or some other stuff.

Kent's motto is Invicta - to do with I believe being invincible when the Saxons invaded - only a stone's throw from where I'm typing this actually. So maybe Kent should start it's own independence movement based on this dubious piece of history...

In the end the last successful invasion makes us all really Norman doesn't it? Or German if you look to the ansestry of the monarch.

Maybe we should all have the DNA trace thing done, it'd be funny - I remember watching John Hurt trace his family history and being really annoyed he wasn't Irish I think. What the hell does it really matter?

mdmhvonpa said...

Over here in Pennsyltucky, we look down on Mauigirl and the rest of her lot in Jersey. Durned Jersey Girls, getting all the good Turnpike exits and such. You know, most ppl cannot remember what happened last week accurately ... and they are worried about 150 year old history!?

We here in PA pledge more SuperFund allocations to the Jersey plight of toxic waste sights as an apology of our arrogance! ;P

Anne in Oxfordshire said...

I don;t think it just exists in the sports. I lived in Wales from 1992 until 2000, in Llantwit Major, my husband was based at Raf St Athan, and once when I got a job in a supermarket,one of the girls said to me "oh you are one of them" One of what I asked .."English and in the Raf" was her reply....and when one my friends lived in Valley she had much more negativity around her, but she did fair better than others ...she was Scottish, but not much better.

Yes your right "Further up the Road" it was John Hurt and he was gutted that he wasn't from Irish heritage..

Anonymous said...

I was brought up in Swansea. I have lived in England for 37 years after marrying an English man. I have no problems with English people but, like you say, I have a very deep seated grudge against "the English". And I also despise Cardiff ! As kids, we used to refer to people from Cardiff as "English", the worst insult we could thing of. I feel ashamed about the way I feel, but I can't seem to help it. It's like it's ingrained. Oh Wales.