Nation and Englishness

Before discussing Englishness in detail, I will briefly explore the concept of a nation and examine some of the political and cultural complexities of England. To avoid the many tangential debates, I will focus on discussing Englishness as a national identity, outlining briefly what a nation is and how its identity is constructed. We can understand England as a nation, but the common use of the term “nation” betrays the complexity of its definition. It is often used interchangeably with the terms “country” and “state”, though this is possibly because many countries today are thought of as nation states. It is worth noting that England is generally considered to be a country within a country as it is culturally and politically

distinct from Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland, but together they form the United Kingdom.

At the turn of the 20th century, Friedrich Meinecke, distinguished “cultural nations”

from “political nations”, which is to say “nations that are primarily based on some jointly experienced cultural heritage and nations that are primarily based on the unifying force of a common political history and constitution” (Meinecke 10). This identifies two critical aspects of a nation: culture and politics. It can be difficult to separate culture from politics because politics emerges from culture, and to a greater or lesser extent, culture is controlled by politics. However, there is one more important aspect to consider: territory. The complexity behind the concept of a nation is due to a lack of natural harmony between these three factors, which often leads to contested territory, contested political power, and contested culture. However, the distinction between political and cultural nations does not in itself define what a nation is or how it is constructed.

Anthony Smith defines a nation as “a named human population sharing an historic territory, common myths and historical memories, a mass, public culture, a common economy and common legal rights and duties for all members” (Smith 14). In this definition, Smith withdraws the division between cultural and political nations, and instead places that distinction between nations and states. He claims that states refer “exclusively to public institutions, differentiated from, and autonomous of, other social institutions and exercising a monopoly of coercion and extraction within a given territory” (Smith 14). In this sense, a state can be seen as the apparatuses of sovereignty, while a nation can be understood as signifying “a cultural and political bond, uniting in a single political community all who share an historic culture and homeland” (Smith 14).

Smith recognises that there is some overlap between the two concepts of nation and state, but the important aspect is what Quentin Skinner describes as “the distinctively modern

idea of the state as a form of public power separate from both the ruler and the ruled, and constituting the supreme political authority within a certain defined territory” (Skinner 353).

Smith claims that “Conceptually, the nation has come to blend two sets of dimensions, the one civic and territorial, the other ethnic and genealogical, in varying proportion in particular cases” (Smith 15). The former referring to “external” objective consequences relating to territory, economy, and politics; the latter referring to “internal” objective consequences, most notably, the socialisation of the members as “nationals” and “citizens” (Smith 16).

Smith elaborates on what is involved in the socialisation process. Along with institutional processes such as education, Smith claims that “the nation is also called upon to provide a social bond between individuals and classes by providing repertoires of shared values, symbols and traditions” (Smith 16). It is through symbols that community members are

“reminded of their common heritage and cultural kinship and feel strengthened and excited by their sense of common identity and belonging” (Smith 17). National identity also provides

“a powerful means of defining and locating individual selves in the world” (Smith 17) and they can perceive themselves through “a shared and unique culture” (Smith 17). Smith claims that the “process of self-definition and location is in many ways the key to national identity” (Smith 17), but is aware of the problematic nature of constructing that identity because of “the many kinds of national self that present themselves in practice ([which is] a natural result of the multifaceted nature of the nation)” (Smith 17).

I would posit that, among other issues, in the context of Englishness religion is an important aspect of the shared values that Smith discusses. Harttgen and Opfinger argue that

“Practicing the same faith and performing the same religious rituals can be a form of signaling conformity with the majority, which in turn leads to the formation of a common (national) identity” (Harttgen and Opfinger 348). The choice of religion is important, as they argue it “as a signal of conformity with the values exercised in the nation – is more important

for the formation of a national identity than coincidental ethnic differences” (Harttgen and Opfinger 348), and they found that “[their] results indicate that there is a statistically significant negative relationship between [their] measure of national identity and religious diversity” (Harttgen and Opfinger 364).

It is thus important to highlight that, in the context of Englishness, the Church of England holds a privileged position within the culture and power structure. Geoffrey Roper points out that despite the present day discourse that emphasises equality, diversity, and freedom of beliefs, Christianity is embedded in the constitution in a number of ways: “a royal arms with the motto Dieu et mon droit [French for “God and my right”]; an anointed sovereign sworn to uphold protestant reformed religion; the royal title Fidei Defensor [Latin for “Defender of the Faith”]; an anthem praying ‘God save the Queen’; [and] legislation by lords spiritual as well as temporal” (Roper 26). He also points out that there are daily prayers by legislators and other institutions to mark special occasions. Thus, if we consider restorative nostalgia that returns to national symbols and myths, then Christianity is a prime location for constructing Englishness. Timothy Edensor notes such an emphasis on Christianity in the rurally nostalgic publication This England, with its feature of political issues such as “the ordination of women Anglican priests, the decline of the ‘traditional’

family, and the demise of Christianity and ‘authority’” (Edensor 42). I will argue that the novel strongly favours Christian ideals of marriage and sexual relationships by idealising those characters who are consistent with Christian ideals, while those who are not consistent with Christian ideals suffer in some way.

To avoid vagueness, I will specify the Church of England’s ideals for marriage and sexuality, though I will point out that the Church’s position on human sexuality has been evolving over the past several decades. However, I will refer to the Church of England’s

statement on human sexuality from 1991 as it provides their explicit views on the matter and informs the cultural context of the novel and TV adaptation of The Killings at Badger’s Drift.

Firstly, the Church is clear that chastity before marriage is essential: “For all these positive reasons God's perfect will for married people is chastity before marriage, and then a lifelong relationship of fidelity and mutual sharing at all levels” (The House of Bishops 22). Chastity is further emphasised by the Church’s position on single people: “full physical sexual relations, or behaviour that would normally and naturally lead to such relations, have no place in friendship or, indeed, in the life of the single person in general” (The House of Bishops 24). There is also an implicit idealisation of the nuclear family since “It is also the marriage committed to loving stability which alone can provide the best home for our children” (The House of Bishops 21). And relevant to The Killings at Badger’s Drift, the Church has “A Table of Kindred and Affinity wherein whosoever are related are forbidden by the Church of England to marry together” (The Church of England), which declares the incestual relationships, including brother and sister, that are forbidden. Lastly, I will highlight that the Church privileged heterosexual relationships by declaring that

“Heterosexuality and homosexuality are not equally congruous with the observed order of creation or with the insights of revelation as the Church engages with these in the light of her pastoral ministry” (The House of Bishops 40). Since, at the time of the document’s publication in 1991, homosexuals could not marry, and unmarried people should remain chaste, the Church’s position was effectively that sexual intercourse was the exclusive domain of married heterosexual couples.

The final concept I put forth in understanding the construction of a nation is Benedict Anderson’s definition of a nation: “it is an imagined political community – and imagined as both inherently limited and sovereign” (Anderson 6). He explains that it is imagined because

“the members of even the smallest nation will never know most of their fellow-members,

meet them, or even hear of them, yet in the minds of each lives the image of their communion”

(Anderson 6). Thus, in a fictional portrayal of English community, such as in The Killings at Badger’s Drift, identifying how the community is imagined reveals a construction of

Englishness because the image of the English nation is reflected in the imagined community.

My contention that the series constructs a nostalgic sense of Englishness is premised on the aforementioned concepts of nation and national identity, and it can be understood as part of the socialisation process that Smith outlines. I would suggest that novels and TV series, such as the Midsomer Murders series, are arena for the self-definition of national identity because it is through such media that shared values, symbols, and traditions can be defined, refined, or otherwise expressed through narrative. This can also be linked to the psychological benefits of nostalgia posited by Routledge et al. in the previous section and help to explain some of the appeal for nostalgia in the construction of Englishness: as an identity, Englishness offers a common bond for individuals and thus strengthen their social connectedness; it also offers individuals a place within the English narrative and thereby provide meaning or purpose to life. Therefore, for people who are feeling socially

“dislocated”, to use Dames’ terminology, or perhaps lack a sense of meaning or purpose in life, they may find relief from those anxieties by indulging in idealised representations of Englishness that portray qualities missing from the present.

For the sake of clarity, I will briefly distinguish the English identity from the British identity in so much as to say they are not the same even though the dominance of England and English culture has blurred and obfuscated the two identities; England makes up half the land mass of the United Kingdom, and the imbalance in population is a major factor in allowing England to “dominate the union” (Childs 42). England and Englishness are constituents of Britain and Britishness but defined by and distinct from the other Union countries Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland. And while the English identity is arguably

fractured by very distinct regional identities as well as class identities, there is nonetheless a

“unifying” identity for people who live in or come from the geographical location of England.

However, since a “unifying” identity does not entail an identity shared by all, it is perhaps more useful to take a perspective on Englishness by considering who or what we are defining Englishness against, or in other words, define who or what Englishness is “other” to.

While Englishness could be defined against other national identities, such as French, German, or Japanese, I will suggest that the nostalgic nature of Englishness in the Midsomer Murders series leads us to “other” Englishness not by place but by time. This means that Englishness is not contrasted by say Frenchness, but rather, contemporary Englishness is othered by an older, more genuine sense of Englishness. This stimulates nostalgia in the form of a sentimental longing for a true Englishness that might be considered lost. It is from this perspective that we can more clearly see how the present is contrasted by the past in a process of “othering”. The term othering consists of the “‘objectification of another person or group’ or ‘creating the other’, which puts aside and ignores the complexity and subjectivity of the individual” (Dervin 187), but importantly, it “allows individuals to construct sameness and difference and to affirm their own identity” (Dervin 187).

The way things used to be done are contrasted by the way things are presently done, and likewise a contrast in the changing morals of society is a process of “othering”. While idealising the past is part of the process of creating a nostalgic sentiment as Santesso would suggest, one might infer that this entails a rejection of the present. However, it is not necessarily the case that the present need be entirely rejected as dystopian or apocalyptic, and in fact, some synthesis between new and old ways might be considered part of the process of creating an idealised Englishness, one where the present is assimilated with the past to construct an idealised version of Englishness. This is because on a subjective level, individuals feel something lacking from the present, or to use Dames’ term they are

“dislocated” from the present, and incorporate the “missing” elements from the past into the present to construct an idealised identity.

In order to contrast past Englishness with present Englishness, it is necessary to discuss some of the changes that inform the transition from past to present and which might be considered sources of anxiety. Perhaps the most pertinent of changes was the decline of the British Empire which occurred after the end of the Second World War. While there is a considerable amount that could be discussed in relation to this topic, I will limit my discussion to merely pointing out that this had a tremendous impact on the national psyche, and brought up questions about their place in the world after no longer being the dominant superpower they once were. No longer being a superpower required redefining their identity, and with the loss of an outward focussed British identity, notions of a more internally focussed English identity could flourish.

One major change occurred following The British Nationality Act of 1948 which allowed for large numbers of ethnically diverse migrants to come from across the Commonwealth. In England, race has been a potent issue because “Englishness has always carried a racial signature” (Hall 109). In 2011, the then producer Brian True-May, claimed that the Midsomer Murders TV series was “the last bastion of Englishness” (Wilson 20), and controversially, that the show “wouldn’t work” if it featured ethnic minorities. His remarks implied that ethnic minorities are incompatible with Englishness, and that the TV show was the last remaining attempt to protect English identity. He was accused of racism and resigned shortly after being suspended by the production company.

I would suggest that the pursuit of such a vision of nostalgic Englishness demonstrates an anxiety reflected by Paul Gilroy’s claim that Britain “has been dominated by an inability even to face, never mind actually mourn, the profound change in circumstances and moods that followed the end of the Empire and consequent loss of prestige” (Gilroy 98), and more

specifically to the “aching loss” of the country’s “long-vanished homogeneity” (Gilroy 95).

Virdee and McGeever remark that “decline, though necessarily a multi-ethnic process, is experienced in a racialized frame and is increasingly responded to by some sections of the working class through the politics of English nationalism” (Virdee and McGeever 1811).

This demonstrates that to some extent there is an identity crisis taking place in England, one where a decline in global dominance and a “structural decline […] since the 1970s and the onset of neoliberalism” (Virdee and McGeever 1810) has produced a racial divide that pits the “resentful nationalist” against the “liberal cosmopolitan” (Fenton 465). This binary classification also largely reflects a divide between urban and rural dwellers, whereby 22.8%

of urban residents belong to ethnic groups other than White British, compared to just 5% in rural areas (Office for National Statistics 22). Important to note, however, is that the more liberal views towards non-whites occurs in areas with higher proportions of ethnic diversity, which reinforces a geographical dimension to racial tension, thus pitting the rural-resentful nationalist against the urban-liberal cosmopolitan. Between 2001 and 2011, the total percentage of non-White British across England and Wales increased from 12.5% of the population to 19.5%; there has been political motivation, especially evident during the Brexit referendum, to draw a causal link between the increase in “foreigners” and the declining economic and social conditions, especially for the working class. The logic behind this argument might also explain the desire for a nostalgic Englishness with an ethnically homogenous society, as such idealisations allow for the projection of a society free from the

“problems” of racial contamination which have been attributed to the present economic and social malaise.

However, race and global dominance are only a part of the anxieties that inform English introspection. Ever since the Industrial Revolution, there has been rapid and dramatic changes to the social structure. None perhaps more dramatic than urbanisation and

the dislocation from nature that has coincided with it. This notion of change can be seen in a cartoon published by Punch in 1919 (Appendix 1), which shows an image of Mr. William Smith leaving his small rural village to fight for his country in the war in 1914, only to return in 1919 to see it has developed into an urban sprawl that has consumed the landscape. This image was reproduced by Clough Williams-Ellis in his 1928 book England and the Octopus, which David Matless suggests shows “the betrayal of ordinary Mr William Smith and his green and pleasant land” (Matless 25). I would argue that this cartoon informs the discourse of urbanisation and depicts an anxiety over the changing landscape. The village becomes a site of nostalgia and portrays an idealised past way of living, which is the focus for section