Tag Archives: Britain

What Direction Britain?

Over the weekend while I watched what I knew was coming on the season finale “Downton Abbey” – and no, there will be no spoilers for those few of you who don’t know yet – I was struck by how a costume drama from the Mother County could so enthrall American audiences.  There has always been that so-called “special relationship” between Britain and America despite what they might term the unpleasantness of the Revolution and the War of 1812.  However I wonder how much of that affinity remains at present, or whether we are simply mutually basking in the reflected glow of something now past.

Watching as the current British Prime Minister stumbles his way along through one misguided policy after another, it is hard for an American conservative to fathom that Mr. Cameron happens to be the head of Britain’s Conservative Party.  As recently as the Thatcher, Major, and Blair years, there seemed to be a greater affinity between the two nations with respect to a number of policy issues, regardless of whether it was a Conservative or Labour government.  Yet increasingly under Gordon Brown and now under David Cameron, there is a sense that Britain is going irreversibly in one direction and America in another.

Others of course would argue that Britain is simply ahead of the curve, and that eventually here in the US we will end up something like the UK writ large.  One certainly hopes that this is not the case, and I say that as a life-long Anglophile who has had the good fortune to live in Britain twice.  Though once senses that the mutual values we held of how to achieve mutual prosperity seem to have been eroding rather dramatically.

When we look back to the first half of the previous century, such as the time in which the fictional Crawley family are operating, we notice that there was a healthy fusion of British belief in hard work with an American sense of getting the job done creatively.  British aristocrats married American money to save their houses, and British businessmen went into partnerships with American firms, recognizing that there were natural affinities and mutual needs that could be met through adaptation and change.  After all, what saves Downton Abbey financially is putting a middle-class young man in charge of things, once he gets the backing of his American mother-in-law to persuade her husband.  And lest we forget, like Ladies Mary, Edith, and Sybil Crawley, Sir Winston Churchill himself was half-American.

Yet it must be said that among the Britons whom I regularly interact with, as much as they may love their country, privately they recognize that there are not as many opportunities left for them there, and many of them want to move here.  They see fewer chances of really succeeding on merit in a country which has become so increasingly dependent on government subsidy, and merely surviving rather than thriving.  What Napoleon once referred to as a “nation of shopkeepers”, seems to be increasingly a “nation of victims”.

Now before any of us over on this side of the Atlantic start patting ourselves on the back, or contentedly saying to ourselves, “There but for the grace of God…”, we, too continue to see more and more dependence upon centralized government taking over even the most basic aspects of our lives.  Fortunately our federal system allows for a greater deal of fight-back than we see in Britain, though that requires eternal vigilance, and more often than not the use of the courts, as we see in the current fight over the present Administration’s HHS Mandate.

For all of our complaints about divided government in our unusual American system of government, there is something very good indeed about a weakened Executive Branch in particular.  Among other things, it makes it much harder for any one person or philosophy to absolutely dominate domestic policy.  Thus while he was able to pass Obamcare thanks to his party controlling both the White House and Congress, today Mr. Obama could huff and puff all he wants, but if he were to introduce a bill that Republicans could not support, it simply would not pass.

What the future holds we do not know.  We can be sure that it will be a less prosperous one for both nations, thanks to factors such as short-sighted budget policies more focused on present consumption than future growth, or promoting population control as a way to reign in costs while simultaneously gutting future benefits.  In the end one does not fear for America so much, since she changes regularly throughout her history, but one wonders what will become of dear old Blighty once it is little more than a cog in the European socialist machine.  And that is something which the British will have to answer for themselves.

Matthew

Cousin Matthew out for a spin on “Downton Abbey”

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Looking Back at London

If you have ever moved to another city, another country, or another continent for any extended period of time, gentle reader, then you know that the first few days you spend there are some of the most vivid memories you will take away from that place.  You may of course forget some of the later things that happened once you settled in, and began to see the place as your home.  However this is why I want to encourage those of my readers who are going to be living somewhere far from home for awhile, to make an effort to write down their experiences and observations now, in order to be able to draw upon them later.

Reading my updates on Facebook this morning I had a bit of a shock, realizing how quickly time seems to pass.  A good friend from here in the States had just arrived in London to begin a year of graduate school there, and I saw the news that he had safely arrived at Heathrow posted in my timeline.  It suddenly dawned on me that it was 15 years ago, in September of 1997, that I moved to London for the first time.  I could not help but sigh a little, as I thought about what my friend would be experiencing, as this was his first time ever in London.

To give you some context about what Britain was like at the time when I first went to live there, I arrived exactly one week after Princess Diana’s funeral on September 7, 1997.  The Labour MP Tony Blair had only been Prime Minister for four months, after decades of Tory government under Margaret Thatcher and John Major, and the most popular British musical act at the time was The Spice Girls, who had only released their debut album in the U.S. earlier that year.  The Queen Mother was still going strong, mobile phones were seemingly all made by Nokia and about the size of a television remote control, and internet was exclusively of the dial-up variety (and very, very slow.)

As weird as it may sound, I can remember my entire first day in London on September 13, 1997, as if it were yesterday.  If you recall the expression of “having your wits about you,” I would say not only did I have all of mine about me, but they were firing on all cylinders.  Everything was new and interesting, and there was this strange sense of having landed on another planet.  For although the language was the same, many details of everyday life were handled completely differently.

For example, once my cab had dropped me off at my halls of residence on Regent’s Park – no Heathrow Express to Paddington in those days – I decided to see how long the walk was from there to where I would be studying, close to Piccadilly.  I remember looking at the words painted on the asphalt at intersections as I made my way through the car park and around the side of the building, which read, “Look Right” or “Look Left”.  I did not quite understand what they were for, until I started walking down Portland Place, and crossed an intersection without looking in the direction indicated.  As I did so a car came whizzing past honking its horn at me, and I had a near-miss with getting flattened within minutes of arriving in London.  From then on, I was quite careful to read what was on the ground before I stepped onto it.

Feeling a bit shaken and deciding I had better calm myself and call home, after a couple of blocks I spotted the BBC and All Souls Langham Place, both of which I knew from a lifetime of watching British television shows.  Across the street were three red telephone boxes in a row, standing at the side of a rather grandiose Victorian building, which I later came to learn was the Langham Hotel.  I chose one and made a telephone call to my parents, waking them up at about 5:00 a.m. Eastern to let them know that I was there and safe.

They were happy to hear from me, particularly my Father who is more the Anglophile of the two, and as I looked about from inside the phone box describing what I saw, I spotted a cafe across the road and down a little ways.  I told them I would head there to get some caffeine and try to call them again later, after I had done some exploring.  I could not have known it at the time, but later I ended up spending many, many hours in that Italian cafe/deli, using it as a place to study and write, and to meet up with friends, since it was centrally located but not a major tourist draw.

However rather than ordering their – excellent, as it later turned out – coffee, I must admit I bought a bottle of Snapple Iced Tea imported from the U.S.  It was warm, and the thought that I would be able to have American iced tea despite being far from home was rather encouraging.  As I continued down Regent Street sipping my beverage, I passed a news agent’s – which again, as time went on I would come to patronize regularly for magazines and for postcards – and noticed that they had that day’s New York Times for sale.  I realized that although I was in a different country and a different culture, there would still be plenty of things from home to keep me connected to the other side of the pond.

That was the beginning of a wonderful day, which included visiting my school and running into some of my classmates who were also figuring out the lay of the land; visiting what would come to be my parish in Mayfair for the first time; having my first gin and tonic in London at The Marlborough Head just north of Grosvenor Square; and coming back to my residence to find that a friend from high school was in town from Cambridge, and would be returning later that evening to meet up and go to dinner.  This is not a testament to any particularly astounding powers of memory on my part, mind you, but just an inkling of how much of an impact that first day in London had on my memory.  It is something I still treasure.

And if for some reason I should forget all of this, thank goodness I had the sense to keep a journal during both of my stints living in London.  It runs to many volumes, and though I must confess I have not sat down and cracked open these books in years, I do know they are there if I ever want to do so.  Perhaps with the realization of this anniversary, it might be a good time to revisit them, and recall some of the things I experienced, but have forgotten with the passage of time.

In the end that was the one piece advice I emailed to my friend today: that he makes sure to keep a journal for the year he will be living in Blighty.  No one knows what the future holds, and whether his experience will be as rewarding as mine, but having these memories to draw upon undoubtedly makes your life, and your understanding of the world in which you live, much richer.  Whether the city is London, Vienna, or Poughkeepsie, take the time now to write about what your impressions and thoughts are, so that you can relive those experiences later.


Phone boxes at the side of The Langham Hotel
Langham Place, London W1

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The Nanny State Builds A Drunk Tank

A news story in this morning’s Torygraph about trying to cut down on the phenomenon of “binge drinking” caught my eye.  It is almost certainly doomed to failure, based on a lack of understanding of the present, deplorable state of Western civilization.  It is a superb manifestation of some of the well-intended but fundamentally unsound assumptions of the nanny state, and though this is taking place in Britain the thinking behind it is not so far removed from our own experience of the nanny state in the U.S. that it would be impossible to imagine here.

Authorities in the Welsh capital city of Cardiff will now begin to film intoxicated patients visiting a new medical clinic in the city center, opened to take the pressure off of local hospital emergency rooms.  Apparently 60% of the patients seen in these local hospitals on weekends are there because of alcohol-related illness or injury due to binge drinking.  The prevalence of this practice, particularly among young people, and the general attitude of either, “What can you do?” or “It’s no big deal,” is something I witnessed many times when I lived in London.

However, while that may seem like a good reason to open a clinic specifically for anti-social future alcoholics, there are some problems with this plan from the get-go.

For starters, patients entering this clinic will not be compelled to watch the film taken of their intoxicated appearance.  They will be able to take a look at it, if they wish, once they have reached some level of sobriety while still at the clinic, but only then.  This begs the question of how many people are going to want to voluntarily sit down, at the conclusion of a very rough night out where they ended up in hospital, to take a look at themselves vomiting or passed out?  Surely they will want to get home and crawl into bed, not sit around talking about their feelings or why they drink.

Moreover, the films are supposed going to be destroyed once the patient leaves the clinic, which means that even if they had a change of heart, the patients cannot come back later to view them.  This policy is also to prevent the films from being used for comedic purposes on social media sites, and is certainly laudable in theory.  However, I can guarantee you that, human nature and bureaucracy being what it is, it is only a matter of time before some of the more egregious videos start showing up on YouTube, or on The Daily Mail’s website.

I am deeply skeptical of this measure proving to be anything other than a waste of time and resources, whether in Cardiff or indeed anywhere else where one might see this sort of behavior, such as just about anywhere where American college students go for Spring Break.  Over the past twenty years in the West, we have created a culture which glorifies anti-social behavior in its entertainment, and then encourages people to behave in appalling ways toward themselves and toward other people, for fun and profit. Take a look at yesterday’s news report out of Delaware, for example, where daycare workers were caught trying to persuade toddlers to fight each other so that their exploits could be filmed.

And because everything is now relative, with no moral absolutes, no one has the right to tell anyone else that what they are doing is wrong. So long as the binge drinker is not dropping their bodily fluids on MY doorstep, this line of thinking goes, I must keep my mouth shut.  Their personal difficulties, which have led them into substance abuse, prevent anyone from criticizing or penalizing their behavior, because hurting their feelings is worse than their destroying private property, for example.

The truth is that young people who are given no direction or structure by their parents, teachers, and the state, are going to continue to behave this way, so long as we continue to believe that the only standards of behavior are those which happen to be popular. The new generation of drunks has no incentive or motivation to behave in public, since they have been brought up to believe they have no reason to do so in private, either.  No doubt it will be a good thing for the people of Cardiff to have what will be, in effect, a new drunk tank, where they can dump all of the alcoholics together in one place until they cool off.  Despite the effort however, I suspect it will do little or nothing to stem the practice.


Detail of “The March of the Guards to Finchley” by William Hogarth (1750)
Foundling Hospital Museum, London

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Queen Elizabeth II: A Catholic Appreciation

This weekend world Anglophiles, such as yours truly, are enjoying the celebrations surrounding the Diamond Jubilee of Queen Elizabeth II.  For those who wish to watch some of the events taking place this weekend in London, the BBC (including BBC America here in the U.S.) and the CBC are two of the best places to see live coverage of the numerous ceremonies.  I am particularly looking forward to seeing the Thames Pageant tomorrow morning before mass, in which over 1,000 vessels of all sorts will float down the Thames in London in honor of the Queen.

However as we discussed during the recording of the Catholic Weekend show today over at SQPN, one thing which is often overlooked with respect to the reign of the present Queen is the gracious effort she has made to reach out to Catholics.  She has done so in ways which some of her ancestors, such as Elizabeth I, would have found surprising, to say the least.  Anti-Catholicism has long been a problem in Britain, and it sill exists in some places. However in leading by example the Queen has shown what it means to be a true lady: someone who is welcoming, knows who she is, treats others with the respect they deserve and is deserving of respect in return.

The Queen is, of course, the head of the Church of England, which is something a bit hard for Americans to get their heads around, at times.  Imagine the President of the United States also being the head of your religion, and you get something of an idea.  The history of Catholicism in Britain since the split with Rome is one marked by a great deal of tragedy and centuries of legally-enshrined discrimination, which probably to the surprise of many of my readers still exists at the present time.

And yet despite this, it is worth pointing to the outreach that this Queen and the Popes have made to one another over the past several decades.  For example, she met with Pope Pius XII while she was still Princess Elizabeth; she also had a private visit with Blessed Pope John XXIII in 1962. In 1980 Elizabeth II made a state visit to meet with (now Blessed) Pope John Paul II, during the course of which she formally invited John Paul II to come on a pastoral visit to Britain.  Accordingly, Blessed John Paul II came to visit in 1982, an event which was considered an extraordinary success as well as an historic first, as the first sitting pope to visit the United Kingdom.

During the Church’s Jubilee year of 2000 the Queen came to visit Pope John Paul in the Vatican again, in commemoration of their first meeting twenty years earlier. By this time of course the Pope was already visibly suffering the long, painful decline in his health, but the Queen appeared as radiant and happy to see him as she had been twenty years earlier. At their meeting the Pope acknowledged the difficult past between the Vatican and Britain, but noted that “in recent years there has emerged between us a cordiality more in keeping with the harmony of earlier times and more genuinely expressive of our common spiritual roots.”  I daresay that part of that cordiality stemmed from the personality of the woman seated across from him as he gave his remarks.

When John Paul II died five years later, the Queen’s example was mirrored in the actions of her government and her son. Not only did the British Prime Minister attend the Pope’s funeral, which is something in and of itself, but many may not remember that Prince Charles actually postponed his wedding to Camilla Parker-Bowles so that he could attend the Pope’s funeral and represent the British Crown. The Queen herself issued a statement at his death offering her condolences, and noting the work that the Pope had done, trying to bring peace around the world. No doubt Henry VIII was spinning in his grave when he heard that.

Afterwards of course, came the historic state visit of Pope Benedict XVI to Britain in 2010, when he met with the Queen for the first time at Holyrood Palace in Edinburgh, and later made his exceptional address in Westminster Hall at the Houses of Parliament in London. When they met, in her welcoming speech the Queen acknowledged that the Pope would be beatifying Cardinal John Henry Newman, probably the most seminal figure in the rebirth of Catholicism in Britain, during his visit. “I know that reconciliation was a central theme in the life of Cardinal John Henry Newman,” she noted, “for whom you will be holding a Mass of Beatification on Sunday. A man who struggled with doubt and uncertainty, his contribution to the understanding of Christianity continues to influence many. I am pleased that your visit will also provide an opportunity to deepen the relationship between the Roman Catholic Church and the established Church of England and the Church of Scotland.”

As pointed out on the Catholic Weekend show this morning, symbolism matters. The fact that this elderly woman in her 80′s continues to hold the fascination of so many people around the world I think has less to do with glamour and glitz, and more with an appreciation that she, too, understands the power of symbolism. She does what her country needs her to do, and while we may think that work is easy, or extraordinarily well-paid, the sacrifices and personal losses she has had to bear as a result of not being able to relax, take it easy, and be just a normal granny like everyone else her age, are things I daresay none of us could reasonably be capable of fathoming.

In the case of the present monarch and her outreach to the Catholic Church, unimaginable to previous generations of Britons, I think she “gets” it. She appreciates that her visits to Rome, and the Pontiff’s visits to her realm; the warmth both sides have shown to each other during those visits in trying to make sure everything goes perfectly; and the interaction that the Queen has made with the Catholic hierarchy in the UK – going so far as to refer to the late Cardinal Hume as “MY cardinal” and attending Vespers at the Catholic cathedral in London – have gone a long way toward normalizing relations between her country and the Catholic Church, after so many years of unhappiness.

I for one will be raising my glass to Her Majesty this evening, to thank her for her efforts to reach out to Catholics in her country: your very good health, Ma’am.

Queen Elizabeth II meeting Blessed Pope John Paul II at The Vatican,
October 17, 1980

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Here Comes The Judge

The world in which we live in is becoming less and less formal as each decade proceeds. The fact that I did not have to wear a business suit to work today for example, despite being a member of the white-collar world, is something which my grandfather’s generation would have found unthinkable.  Yet even though for the most part Western society has become much more familiar and informal than previously, there are still vestiges of formality which remain in practice of which we should take note, and which I see as a good thing. At the same time we also have to be careful not to put a too-rosy glow on the past. Human society always needs to continue to try to do better, if indeed it is to continue at all.

Yesterday afternoon I was in court for some preliminary matters involving a case coming up for trial, and during the course of the meeting, the judge had to come in and out of the courtroom several times. As is customary, the other attorney and I stood and sat when she entered or left the room, or when she addressed us, or when we had to address her.  While this may sound a bit odd, even though I have conformed to this practice before a judge many times, there was something about it yesterday which particularly struck me, and touched my heart a bit.  Keep in mind that there is no law which mandates that we show this level of deference to the judge, and we are not doing it because of who she herself is, but rather out of respect for the law, which is what she represents.

There is something patently civilized in recognizing the fact that another is worthy of a physical demonstration of respect, which unfortunately has been watered down in contemporary society.  The feminist movement for example, left us in a quandary as to whether we should pull out a chair or hold a door open for a lady. And an increasing level of rude behavior and bad manners across the political spectrum appears to be de rigueur these days not only within the government, but also when government officials or foreign dignitaries are visiting a particular place.  In some cases it seems that new and social media are responsible for promoting a kind of public boorishness which has, frankly, little or nothing to do with exercising personal freedom, and everything to do with crass selfishness.

However this is not to say that in the past, everyone loved their neighbor as themselves and was generally well-behaved.  For example, if you are a fellow student of history you no doubt find it ironic, as I do, that people today complain about a lack of decorum in Congress.  The truth is that compared to how things used to be, shouting out “You lie!”, or wearing a hoodie on the floor of the House, is nothing compared to what some of the Founding Fathers got up to.

Congressman Matthew Lyon holds the dubious distinction of being the first member of the House of Representatives – though certainly not the last – to have ethics charges brought against him. In the winter of 1798, he  spit in the face of Congressman Roger Griswold, after Griswold had called him a scoundrel and referred to his dismissal from service during the Revolutionary War for cowardice, while they were in session.  Griswold later attempted to beat the tar out of Lyon with his cane on the floor of the House, and Lyon defended himself with a pair of tongs he grabbed from a fireplace in the chamber.  However before my European readers begin to think that this sort of behavior is an American one, allow me to point out that  American politicians are not the only persons who have sometimes lost their sense of office and dignity during the course of history.

Robert Harley, Earl of Oxford, served as 1st Lord of the Treasury – in effect, as Prime Minister – to Queen Anne toward the end of her reign.  Unfortunately, he did not seem to be able to rise to the dignity of his office, nor show the proper deference due to the monarch.  During a meeting of her Privy Council on July 27, 1714, we are told that the Queen complained that Lord Oxford had “neglected all business; that he was very seldom to be understood; that when he did explain himself she could not depend upon the truth of what he said; that he never came to her at the time she appointed; that he often came drunk; lastly, to crown all, that he behaved himself towards her with bad manners, indecency, and disrespect.”

Matters then came to a head when Lord Oxford and the Queen got into what an eyewitness described as a “personal altercation”, which went on and on until 2 o’clock in the morning.  At the end of what must have been an absolutely fascinating, if incredibly uncomfortable, battle of wills, the Queen had had enough.  She took back the White Staff, a kind of ceremonial mace which was the emblem of office traditionally given to her 1st Minister, and gave it to Lord Bolingbroke, dismissing Lord Oxford from her service.  The Queen died several days later and her successor, King George I, had Lord Oxford impeached for high crimes and misdemeanors, and imprisoned in The Tower of London for several years.

Civilization only works when its members agree that there are situations in which it is better to put others ahead of ourselves, whether because of the power they hold, or their age/infirmity, or their role in our society, and so on.  If there is no such deference, then it is an every-man-for-himself situation, and you eventually end up with utter chaos.  Look at what happened in places like Russia or Spain last century, when anarchy led to protracted Civil War, and you will find it not a pretty picture to be “liberated” from rules of decent behavior.

Of course, those who rail against conventions and hierarchies as somehow enslaving human beings and preventing freedom ought to consider the alternative: a world in which anyone can rob from you or physically abuse you, and against which actions you would have no recourse, unless you were physically capable of fending them off.  No rational person wants to live for any extended period of time in a society as strictly regimented as North Korea, I would wager, but on the other hand no rational person would want to live in the middle of a permanent war zone, either.  We are flawed creatures, with a spark of divinity veiled by an inherent tendency of all fallen creation to look out for itself, first.  This often leads to our treating others poorly, whether out of deliberate malice or out of careless disregard.

The rules which we have put in place with respect to how we behave in the course of our interactions are there to counteract our natural tendency to behave selfishly and badly toward one another.  Standing up when the judge comes into the room, or politely shaking hands with the President of the United States – even if you virulently disagree with his policies – is a way of demonstrating that you believe civilized behavior is not just an end unto itself: it is a means for keeping our civilization going.

All from the most highly placed to the most lowly find themselves in situations where they must defer to someone else in this way.  Even the Pope washes the feet of the faithful on Holy Thursday, just as you must wash your hands before appearing at someone else’s dinner table.  While we should avoid unnecessarily obsequious behavior, perhaps next time you find yourself interacting with another, it is worth considering whether you are behaving in a way which keeps our culture a civilized one, or whether you are chipping further away at its foundations.


“The Grey Eminence” by Jean-Léon Gérôme (1873)
Museum of Fine Arts, Boston

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