Decolonization and National Character

The decline of national identity since the Second World War, as protuberantly probed by Richard Weight, highlights important developments in political, cultural, and national identification in Britain. [Cf. Richard Weight, Patriots – National Identity in Britain 1940-2000, (London, 2002).] By the closing years of Weight’s sprawling investigation, he highlights the Conservative government’s 1995 attempted re-creation of post-war patriotism for the fiftieth anniversary of ‘Victory in Europe’. The failure of this attempt, although somewhat precluded by the thrust of Weight’s thesis of declining British national identity, highlights the general disintegration of a concept of ‘British’ identity in the period from the Second World War to the end of the twentieth-century. There were a number of challenges to the entrenched cultural establishments in the immediate post-war years that require attention in addressing the above question. At a time when patriotism and social cohesion were seemingly at their (modern) zenith, it is essential to acknowledge Orwell’s recognition of the internal structural tensions within the union and the potential for radical revision within those increasingly strained relationships. It is interesting that at a time when challenges were being posed to the union, the attention of the government was focussed elsewhere, most pertinently for this enquiry, upon wide-ranging reassessments of the question of ‘Empire’. The widespread dismantling of the British Empire in the decades following the Second World War, whether dramatically ‘implosive’ or a continuation of longer processes, begs questions of the effect on British national identity that such a change brought. Established commentary asserts a thesis of ‘minimal impact’ due to the waning of imperial identity within British culture. [Cf. Stuart Ward (ed.), British culture and the end of empire, (Manchester, 2001).] But then, recent observers now maintain this as not the case. As liberal notions came to directly challenge established justifications for imperialism, the strongest external prop to the British national character became dangerously unbalanced and directly challenged that character.

However, before continuing, I am required to do a spot of preparation by means of discussion of one singularly important point: the general attitude towards Empire and decolonization during post-war reconstruction. By discussing this at the outset, a canvass for the remainder of the discussion will be established. Nonetheless, the following analysis is essentially contingent upon one fundamental definition: that of ‘national character’. This potentially deeply subjective concept should be regarded, at least in the following, as the identification of communal bond within a national context. It may also be worthwhile defining one other problematic concept at this point: citizenship. In what follows ‘citizenship’ (where mentioned) will be defined in its most elementary form as membership of a political unit or culture.

The established historical view states that decolonization failed to impact significantly on British society or culture. Perhaps due to the insularity of decolonization questions in contemporary political culture, there has been a general historical tendency to accept the loss of, or withdrawal from, empire as relatively unimportant. Alternatively, accepting that ‘imperialism’ is often referred to in an almost pejorative voice, the desire to ignore possibly negative or unpopular concerns this loss or withdrawal effected on the British national character is a logical, though subjective response. The retreat from far-flung territories has been morally justified on these terms and remain distant from current politics and tend to be lauded for the efficacy with which the process was effected. This efficacy, almost a distinctively ‘British’ decency, is reflected in the observation of one member of the British public when they note in their diary: ‘The next thing our Government will want to do is give up the Rock of Gibraltar to Spain, if she asks for it nicely.’ Not only does this (annoyingly hyperbolic) observation show the perceived decency of the transactions, it also elucidates rather accurately an implicit contempt for a possible replacement of the Empire: re-alignment with continental Europe. Concurrent intentions to withdraw from Empire and, at the same time, Macmillan’s attempts to place Britain into the heart of a mainland European confederation with ‘defeated’ nations, in many ways, drew wide attention away from the former to the latter … until de Gaulle stepped in the way! Having said this, the above thesis of ‘minimal impact’ was based upon potentially misleading and deficient evidence, referring to the British public’s widespread inability to name a colony or differentiate between colonies and dominions. Citing the public’s general indifference to imperial matters when they were current, the conclusion is reached that decolonization was met with the same inattention and apathy.

Yet, there remains something viable in this ‘evidence’. Asides from the threat of the ‘Europeanisation’ of ‘Britishness’ to detract attention from the death-throws of imperialism, there was Americanisation of culture and a particularly American brand of affluence in Britain. If there were lamentations for a declining imperial prestige, then it is not difficult to suggest that a newfound ‘retail therapy’ would have the ability to placate or, again, redirect such imperial pessimism into the attractive consumerism and ‘age of affluence’. This ‘age’ should be understood as particularly vibrant against the preceding austerity of the war-years and those of the immediate aftermath given Macmillan’s almost accusatory ‘you’ve never had it so good.’

A profound psychological shift accompanied this ‘age of affluence’ that disengaged the younger generation from the concerns of the older. A shortage of labour tipped the scales in favour of the employee bringing higher wages, better working conditions and, for the first time, widespread disposable income. Between 1951 and 1974 real incomes doubled in value with only between 1% and 3% of the workforce claiming benefits at any time, fulfilling Beveridge’s definition of ‘full-employment’. [Figures taken from Weight.] Further to this, the installation of the welfare state and the levelling effect that such universal rights brought re-focussed attention away from notions of decline and highlighted benefits and positive aspects of the post-war world. The combined benefit of affluence and the welfare state changed the social expectations of the working class, although this failed to transcend the existing class structure, and strengthened concepts of citizenship and individualism. At the same time, a castigation of the traditionalist world of the pre-war years was replaced by the permissive society of the late 1950s onwards.

Within all of these significantly determining transmutations in British society, and by extension, British culture and national identity, there remain two key themes: modernisation and individualism. Modernisation was, more than anything else, highlighted by the government as the way forward. The Festival of Britain in 1952 utilised a distinctively modern national image. Individualism can be found most explicitly in the ‘Angry Young Men’, or Gaitskell’s charge of the decline of community consciousness. Individualism can be found in the army of rockers disturbing cinemas across the country in 1956. It stands then that the withdrawal from a nineteenth-century collective mechanism (such that imperialism was) would likely have few significant consequences for British culture. The eagerness for the rejection of the past and the traditional structures of the power elite, although not fiercely pursued by Attlee’s socialist government as was expected, was greeted with a degree of insensibility by a population increasingly socialist in character, increasingly individualist in construction, and increasingly modern in their aspirations.

Consequently, the evidence on which the thesis of ‘minimal impact’ is based, although shaky and largely circumstantial at best, does have a social, economic and cultural basis that is able to provide something of a concrete foundation for such aspersions. Yet, in undermining such theories, we are able to turn to other such ‘concrete’ foundations. It would be most inappropriate to suggest that one side of the argument was entirely right and the other equally wrong, it must stand that decolonization did affect British society, and by extension national character, to some extent for, regardless of the availability of any evidence, the relationship between mother-country and colonies/dominions must remain purely reciprocal in nature. Such a relationship entails that decolonization would affect British society.

There were political worries over the Indian independence. The problem for the Attlee government was a fear that the issue would undermine their electoral chances in the next election. Given that Attlee’s focus was ultimately on Indian independence, the Labour government were fearful that this move would be seen ‘as the beginning of the liquidation of the British Empire’. Macmillan’s concern was similarly that of the loss of public support. Thus political concerns over popular support suggest the tenuous nature of the loss of empire and the potential for reaction that electoral politics remain invariably apprehensive about. Nonetheless, such political abstractions and, what amount to no more than fears, do not necessarily translate into realities. Worthy of note, however, is the role of political consensus, whether myth or reality, in the years 1945-56. The attitude of the Conservatives in adopting a continuation of the decolonization process, and the general agreement between the two main parties over the process, entailed that the issue was never seriously criticised in the political press. This consensus only collapsed with the advent of the Suez crisis and Eden’s anti-appeasing hawkishness. What is particularly relevant about the Suez crisis is that it was the first explicit challenge to the irrelevancy of decolonization. Eden’s weeklong-armed escapade demonstrated that Britain was no longer capable of logistically difficult sea-borne operations and so the absence of the Empire was fully noticeable. Labour’s explicit condemnation of the adventure ended consensus.

On the above then, it would appear straightforward that the process of decolonization affected the public opinion in no great degree. The opposing view sees the good nature and general equanimity of the process as ‘a self-justificatory and consolatory travesty’; simply, right-wing propaganda. The fact that the process was, to all intents and purposes, initiated by the left within the scope of broad political consensus, makes this charge somewhat questionable. It is now essential to turn attention towards the specific issue of the British ‘national character’.

Recent historical explorations of popular narratives of ‘nation’ and ‘empire’ in the British media follows such narratives as told through movie and televisual representations from the War to Churchill's funeral in 1965. Three conflicting narratives are outlined: Britishness as a global identity maintained by means of a ‘white’ Commonwealth; Britishness as a domestic identity under siege from colonial wars and immigration (ultimately showing ‘little England’ as being threatened by empire); and thirdly, the revised history of national greatness that celebrated the heroic masculinity of British wartime activity that places greater and greater emphasis on the role of the British as heroes whilst gradually displacing the actions of the imperial collective. [Wendy Webster, Englishness and Empire 1939-1965, (Oxford, 2005).]

The displacement of ‘Empire Day’ from popular culture highlights the idea that Britishness, as a global identity, could be maintained by means of projecting and promoting a ‘white’ Commonwealth in place of ‘empire’, thus showing the changing demands made upon popular culture. At the same time, attempts were made to promote ‘Commonwealth’ as a unifying feature of Britishness in place of ‘empire’. However, the institution of ‘Commonwealth Week’ in 1959 failed to impact on British culture and the idea was dropped in 1962. Where the idea of Commonwealth was successful was in its implicit racial aspersions. The acceptance of a ‘white’ Commonwealth was a stark contrast to a racially rich empire. The Commonwealth highlighted a racial kinship as an attempt to foster an insular national identity. Britishness as a domestic identity under siege from colonial wars and immigration ultimately demonstrated that a multi-racial empire threatened ‘little England’. Although the levels of immigration remained low enough that claims of a siege or invasion from ‘racially inferior’ immigrants are easily rebutted, campaigns to keep Britain ‘white’ and racism were sparked through media representations that may, as Webster intimates, be forms of reaction to decolonization. The retreat from imperialism and a general distaste and distrust for the continent revised history of national greatness that celebrated the heroic masculinity of British wartime activity that places greater and greater emphasis on the role of British as heroes whilst gradually displacing the actions of the imperial collective. Worth noting, as Webster does not, these narratives, whilst expressly focussing upon empire, are only three amongst a possible indeterminate number of narratives of post-war Britain focussing on themes other than empire. So, the impact of these narratives and their diffusion remain ill defined.

What does remain is the general closing of the British national character to exclude non-whites. As Robert Miles points out, this radicalization of national identity suggests that this dialectical representation of inclusion and exclusion result in Otherness. [Robert Miles, Racism, (London, 1989).] The resulting process defines the British national character by those who do not belong or share those same characteristics rather than by criteria of those that do. As Britain ceased to be ‘father of an empire’, the role of women undertook a similar transmutation from ‘mother’ to ‘guardian of the home’. This ‘outward’ looking, defensive rather than a ‘downward’ looking, maternalistic role signifies the watchfulness for external threats suggesting realignment from imperial to post-imperial status within the British national character.

There clearly remains an imprecision about much of the scholarship challenging the ‘minimal impact thesis’ that fails to convincingly persuade that any significant proportion of the population inculcated any sense of changing national character directly determined by decolonization. This is not to contest changing national narratives, increasing racism, or a psychological ‘closing’ of national identity, as it would appear that these experiences did occur. However, there would appear to be only very tenuous possibilities that these experiences were directly influenced by and solely by, decolonization and the decline in imperial prestige that hindsight suggests. Amongst all the other transformations that were inflicted on British society in the immediate post-war decades, it remains that the process of decolonization was but one – and an altogether secondary one at that.