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256 pages, Paperback
First published November 16, 2017
The crucial thing is not that we can avail ourselves of some eternal community, with fixed borders, unalterable beliefs and a ring-fenced genetic inheritance. What is crucial is that, in the flow of human fortunes, there should be a place of belonging, which we can identify as our home, where the inhabitants can be relied upon, and which we are all committed to defending and improving for the common good.
This returns me again to David Goodhart’s distinction between the ‘somewheres’ and the ‘anywheres’. There are those for whom the attachment to a specific place and the form of life that grows there is definitive of their condition, and who wish at all costs to conserve that place as the home to which they belong. And there are those who are easily uprooted, can take their skills and their social networks effortlessly from place to place, and generally find the niche in which to settle.
Institutions and relations confer benefits on those whom they include, but not on the remainder. This innocent fact is rewritten by the oikophobic [home+fear/hate] imagination as a proof of ‘social exclusion’. The love that binds my family is inclusive. You, who are not a family member, are therefore excluded from it. Of course, exclusion is not the purpose, but merely the unintended by-product of a benefit that exists only if it is not conferred on everyone. But that is not how oikophobes see the world. For the exclusion that is the by-product of a privilege can be made to look like its primary purpose, part of a strategy of domination whereby old hierarchies sustain themselves, exploiting and trampling upon those whom they deprive.
Anywhere people need roots as much as somewhere people; the difference is that they need to discover those roots for themselves...The discovery of roots, when it occurs, lends strength as much to our neighbours as to ourselves. For it leads to the principal benefit that a mobile person brings to a place of settlement, which is gratitude for having found it.
And they should study our art and literature, which is an art and literature not of war but of peace, an invocation of home and the routines of home, of everydayness and enduring settlement. Its quarrels are domestic quarrels, its protests are pleas for neighbours, its goal is homecoming and contentment with the place that is ours
...The same vision of the responsible individual has inspired European art and literature since the Renaissance
...The British idea of government has been founded on the conception that authority flows upwards, from the citizen, through the courts, to Parliament and the offices of the state, and not downwards from the sovereign to the citizen. Hence British people have the unshakeable belief that anyone who, in the hierarchy of decision-making, has power over others, is also accountable to those others for the way that power is exercised. Accountability is the constraint within which all legitimate government occurs. From medieval times it has been possible to call on the courts to judge that some power conferred on an office-holder has been used ultra vires, beyond legal authority, and in that way to annul its effect.
...It is surely plausible to suggest that the two commandments and the Lord’s Prayer form the moral, spiritual and emotional foundation of the thing that comes naturally to Europeans, namely recognition of the Other as other than you. We are commanded to love our enemy, to pursue forgiveness and to accept the rule of secular powers. Those precepts lead of their own accord to equality before the law, to religious toleration and to popular sovereignty. But they also embody a distinctive vision of human beings, as free and accountable individuals, answerable for their faults, but duty-bound to respect the freedom and otherness of their neighbours. They form the precious core of our social capital, and it would be a tragic day for Europe should that capital be squandered or repressed by the regulative machine that has been set up to invest it.
The readiness to account for our faults can be observed even in the worst of the imperial atrocities. Following the massacre at Amritsar in April 1919, a commission was established under Lord Hunter that was unanimous in condemning the action, as a result of which the House of Commons forced Colonel Dyer, the officer responsible, to retire – not a devastating punishment, certainly, but a punishment nevertheless, and one that accompanied a report that radically condemned the attitude and role of the British Army in India. The recent case of Marine Alexander Blackman, who shot and killed an injured Taliban fighter in the stressful circumstances of battle, is equally significant. Blackman was tried for murder and found guilty. Subsequently, as the result of a campaign by his wife, the verdict was reduced to manslaughter. Ask yourself whether such a trial would be even conceivable conducted by the Taliban (or by any similar entity fighting now) and you will know the extent to which justice and accountability have been impressed on our national character.
Imperialism was a further step, enabling industries to outsource many of their inputs, and to market their goods to distant strangers. The modern multinational company, such as Benetton, which outsources everything and owns nothing save a brand, is simply the latest move in the same direction – towards an economy in which everything exchanges in response to demand, and where locality and attachment are discounted.
The Islamic conception of sexual difference leads, in certain Muslim communities, to the adoption of the full-face veil in public. It is again part of our legacy of freedom that we permit this, as the French do not. But we should recognize how deeply this practice offends against our settled customs. Ours is a face-to-face society, in which people declare openly who they are and address each other as equals. The systematic privatization of women, the attempt to conceal them as secrets, is in part responsible for the failure of certain Muslim communities to integrate. The children of such communities are presented with an absolute existential divide, between the secret place where women are and where children are nurtured, and the illuminated arena of temptations in the world outside. This can only exacerbate their identity crisis, and fuel their desire to join the dark against the light, the secret home against the open society of strangers, the Islamic ummah against the secular state.