Charlie and the man in the street

In approaching this post, circumstance has perhaps done me a favour.  My educational consultancy work based in Paris was at its apex when the events unfolded there and our deadlines prohibited me from the blog response I wanted to make - most likely an impassioned defence of liberty and freedom of speech, a voice amongst the many spurred on by fear for and love of my colleagues in Paris and my journalistic instincts from years as a writer and satirist of many things, including religion.

I was not able to make that response, and as a result, I have been forced to think. My anger has cooled... the media blitz has waned and something tells me that now might be the time to speak with what passes for a clear head these days. The demonstrations in Paris and around the world made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. As the only British partner in a French company, I know the power of the French passion, to us an almost child-like intensity with which they feel and unleash emotion.  I would put this on a list (along with gastronomy and sex) of things they do better than us.

In a world where nationalism is perceived as an almost ugly, slightly barbaric mentality, its outpouring, even in the name of values we share, even in the name of Charlie, or Ahmed, or unity or love will be treated with caution, or even trepidation by those who do not perceive that those values are theirs to share in.  I know this, because that trepidation has been voiced by those closest to me, who maintain the almost unbreakable sense of vulnerability through 'otherness', whether it be in their religion, their race, or the colour of their skin.  This otherness, unlike these attacks has little to do with Islam save that it is one of its many facets.

This is an uncertain or even frightening time to be 'other'.  In France, the far right is polling at historical levels.  The history of the last few decades has been that when faced with Le Pen as a realistic possibility, the people of France have come together, from the moderate left and right, and blocked a chance at a victory for the Front National.  I have every faith that this will happen again, but there is no mistaking the sentiment and
for me, not enough serious questioning of what drives it.

Perhaps the ultimate price of empire, both in Britain and France will prove to be a moral inability to claim exclusivity to our cultural identity. We traversed the globe when it seemed larger.  Far off lands were truly far off.  We acted and prospered in our own nationalistic interest. And now, the globalisation of our national soul is something that we struggle to rationalise, to discuss or in the case of our politicians, to manage as those children of the empire come to us - Children upon whose shores we landed as well armed migrants possessed of a clinical, at times deadly ideology of nationalism, colonisation and even slavery.

"What does this mean for Britain?"  Every media outlet has been quick to invite parallels, to draw comparisons, to envisage a "Paris style attack" in London, or a full scale invasion which according to CNN will be launched from the Islamic Republic of Birmingham. Perhaps the more pressing question is more complex. I want to ask it.

"Is it right to wish to preserve a sense of national identity that is founded on exclusive ideas?" In this I would include a Judeo Christian underpinning to a broadly secular society.  Should this be fought for, spoken for, preserved either in law or even as a moral principle?  Is it even possible to do these things when growing numbers of people born in this country hold ideologies that are alien to the 'green and pleasant' idyl of UKIP and the people tempted to vote for them.  Unlike in science fiction, alien does not have to mean hostile, but differences couched in faith, when politicised can only lead to conflict. Politicised Islam invites the rebuttal that this is a 'Christian country'. (One religion with alien origins rejects another)

So what is the answer?  Is it numerical?  Is there a magic number of people of 'different' colour, accent or faith that a society can absorb, integrate and sustain before the fear of 'otherness' is felt by those who would consider themselves indigenous. (An elegant word when used about woodland birdlife - an ugly loaded one when used about people)  Whom should we listen to?  The politicians? The minorities themselves?  Can they adapt to all this freedom?  Should they adapt and if they can't should they 'go back to their own countries', (Even if that does mean Birmingham)  It seems that politicians look in small part to minority groups to say the right things. (The MCB has not covered itself in glory this week) Is there an unspoken price to be paid as a migrant or the child of one. The sense that no matter what you do, the British or French society will never truly accept you or belong to you to the same extent as it does to those who look and speak and pray like the majority, no matter how liberal that society claims to be? No government would dare say this even if the hard logic of it is difficult to dispute.  For their majority view, they look to, and speak of and act on behalf of 'The man in the street.'

The man in the street, or as the chill of winter sets in, the man in the pub is a man whose opinions come from the things he has witnessed in the street, or watched on the news, fed by a media that tailors its content to his reading level and attention span. The man in the street is not one for long conversations.  He is someone who believes there is a simple answer to every problem.  The man in the street seems to be able to use the phrase 'I'm not racist but...' without tasting the irony in his gut.  The man in the street is selfish.  Even if he doesn't enjoy his own circumstances, he does not wish them to change.  The man in the street has been taught to fear the alien, to distrust bureaucratic europeans, scrounging migrants, Muslims who will 'impose Sharia law' on him.

It is a shame of our democracy and an utter failure of political and intellectual courage that the man in the street must be pandered to, in words politicians believe he understands - words designed to enforce his gut feelings and give him the sense that 'something must be done.'  The man in the street is being played, and even if he suspects this, he has no option, no recourse.  Everyone has come to him - put on his ill fitting clothes and tried to convince him that they think his views are important.  The man in the street has two choices.  he can withdraw his vote - give in to apathy or he can send a message by voting for the party that has least shame in pretending to be him.

The man in the street is not Charlie.  I am not Charlie.  Before the attacks, Charlie was fighting for its market share, smothered by the self censorship of mainstream media, cornered by its own politics under the weight of this broken bovine conspiracy of consensus of what one does not say. My personal belief is that at times, this pushed Charlie beyond common sense.  A lone voice, fighting a tide will always raise that voice and occasionally lose the focus of its words in the process. This is a human failing, one that should be understood.  The Charlies of this world are braver than me and have a greater stake in their society than the man on the street.  The Charlies of the world do not keep quiet, regulate their content out of fear of the letter of complaint, the online questionnaire or even the death rattle of an AK47.  Charlie's murdered journalists were victims of an ideology that is well funded, growing in influence and achieving success on the complicated and neglected battlefields of Syria and Nigeria, and in the faltering revolution of Libya. We should not underestimate the scale of the threat of this ideology.  It cannot be reasoned with or rationalised, something it shares not just with its parent religion of wider Islam, but with all religions.  In that, the battle is philosophical.  You cannot treat with it, give it concessions.  There are none that could satisfy it, even with the removal of Israel from the map or the banning of all criticism of Islam. Intolerance does not thank you for your tolerance.  It seeks to undermine it.

Perhaps then, it is the undesired duty of a largely secular Britain to become a nation of armchair theologists. Time and again, we are told that extremist attacks have 'nothing to do with Islam', by people that one suspects have at best, a rudimentary grasp of this major world religion. Whilst this argument is semantically flawed in a way that is both obvious and infuriating, the message behind it... (Don't let this be an excuse to take your new found righteous anger out on any vaguely brown person wearing a scarf) is one that should be listened to, and perhaps, communicated in a less patronising form. Perhaps this could be a starting point for something vital.  Britain, and British society must build a relationship with Islam. To do this, we may need our abandoned, shamed sense of nationalism to create a vibrant, generous, spiritual and perhaps, uniquely British version of the faith that gives ownership to those who would not advocate suffering on anyone for an expression of their belief, or lack thereof. This is not a new idea, and to achieve it, there will need to be give on both sides. It will take a generation to achieve and there will likely be pain along the road to achieving it.

Nationalism does not have to be an identity built on the foundations of a past.  English nationalism in particular has found this problematic. We need a nationalism of the future - One that is honest about its past and does not seek to glorify or vilify it.  We need a nationalism that finds a place for our legacy, the children and grand children of empire, one that gives them and us something to believe in - an identity that is strong enough to look past the colour of someone's skin or the god they pray to, an identity strong enough, that petty tribalism, backwardness and oppression in all their forms cannot stand against it and are dissipated by it. We need a national identity that holds no faith sacred. This is the only way to function in a multi-faith society in which no one spiritual leader or book may claim moral certainty. But secular opinion must also be challenged.  The man in the street must no longer hold sway.  There is a reason he does not run the country, let's not run it for him. This means leaders must grow a backbone and condemn white, black and brown wrong-headedness with the same vigour, whether it be motivated by religion, or run of the mill ignorance.

It is difficult to say whether the challenge of integration that Britain faces is as great or greater than that of France. Countries are big places, one city or village differs from the other. But the challenge is there either way, and history has taught us that national unity is only achievable in the face of a great cause. Could that cause not be to be better at integration than the French? They're already better at sex and cooking, so I for one, don't think we can let them have this. Could our great mission not be to discover and patent the model for functioning integrated societies in a globalised nation state in which traditional measures of identity are eroded? What would it be to have the British political model of integration implemented the world over? There might just be one or two in this faded imperial nation who would enjoy the symmetry of that.