26 March 2008
IPPR, Covent Garden, London
Justice Minister Michael Wills has given a speech to the Institute for Public Policy Research on the politics of national identity.
Since James Carville wrote it over every desk in Bill Clinton's first presidential campaign, 'It's the economy stupid' has framed political discourse on both sides of the Atlantic. But this morning, I'm going to suggest that it's time that 'Who do you think you are?' was posted up alongside it.
This morning, I want to explore the importance of identity for politics - how it helps determine how voters vote and how a shared sense of national identity creates the framework for our democracy. And I want to suggest how important a shared sense of national identity is in meeting the challenges that lie ahead for our nation. I'm then going to reveal the latest poll evidence about who we actually think we are. And I'm then going to conclude by setting out what I see as the implications for government. And then, most importantly, I'm going to welcome your questions and comments.
It may seem perverse to focus on the importance of identity when for at least 20 years general elections have turned on practical issues of public policy - defence in the 1980s, public services more recently and the economy throughout. And, of course, politics is instrumentalist, of course voters see it as a means to an end and their assessment of what's in it for them, who'll manage the economy best, deliver most jobs, highest living standards, lowest mortgage rates, the best NHS and schools, all help determine general elections. But voting is not simply a consumer transaction. It's also an expression of identity.
In the twentieth century, identity politics, conceptualised as such, spoke the language of insurgency, challenging the conventional organisation of politics around belief or programme, or party as an umbrella for belief and programme, organising instead around a shared identity - usually one expressed as being oppressed and exploited.
But I'd argue that identity has always driven politics, if not always explicitly. Whenever material issues have been bundled up into an ideological contest between competing systems of values, politics has become as much about identity as about self-interest or policy. Those who sign up to a values system are saying something about what sort of person they think they are. Class, for example, is an identity. Class politics is not simply a battle for economic power. It is also a conflict between different views of identity. Working-class conservatism was fuelled by a different sense of identity from working-class socialism.
And when the C2s migrated to Mrs Thatcher's Conservative Party in the 1980s, they were expressing a view not just about taxation and council house sales but also about their aspirations for themselves and their families, an assertion of the individual against the state. And when they migrated back to Labour in the 1990s, they were expressing an alternative view about how they wanted their country to be, and their place in it, one rooted in a sense that the atomisation of society had gone too far, that there was a proper place for the collective in our polity. That there was such a thing as society.
For many people, who they think they are helps determine how they vote. Many vote, at least in part, for parties that they feel embody values that define who they are, feeling that how they vote says something about the kind of person they are. They want to feel their vote validates them as a person. That helps explain, for example, why so many vote, consciously, against their own economic self-interest, the prosperous who vote for parties who'll tax them more, the poor who vote for parties who'll cut taxes on the better-off and cut the public services on which they themselves depend.
But identity is important also on a more profound level, defining the territory within which politics operates. Democracies depend on a covenant between the individual and the state, between government and the governed. Democratic politics can only take place within a framework of common purpose and a sense of shared destiny between voters, creating a moral community, not necessarily defined by geography or class but by shared sentiments of mutual and reciprocal respect and obligation, which can only take place where there is some sense of some shared identity. Any moral community flows from the sense of identity of its members - where they feel they belong, to whom they feel they owe their loyalty and from whom they feel they derive rights. Without such a moral community, based on a shared identity, a democracy can be neither stable nor sustainable. Without it, election results won't be accepted as legitimate. Voters who don't feel they belong together, tend not to stay together.
If a sense of identity is important in shaping voting behaviour and in underpinning any system of democracy, then how people identify themselves matters.
For most of us, our identity is plural. It derives from our personal history, our family and our friendships, our neighbourhood, region and country. Gender, age, sexuality, ethnicity can all shape identity. Few of us feel any one of these characteristics define us exclusively. And their relative importance will ebb and flow over time, in response to changing circumstances. And so too our sense of the moral community to which we belong will ebb and flow. At one time, we will feel most intensely our obligation to a parent or partner. At others, it will be to victims of a tsunami or famine.
But politically, the nation state remains the anchor of belonging. So much of what roots us, politically, economically and culturally, flows from the nation state - our systems of education and justice and our public services of health and broadcasting. So many of the ties that bind us, that root us in our own place and time, the shared language, culture, social and political institutions and norms are derived from the nation state. Where we feel we owe our loyalty and from where we feel we derive our rights focuses our politics. The yearning to belong has always been a motor of history. Threats to a sense of belonging even more so. And the nation remains a focus for that sense of belonging.
And so national identity is a central issue for politics. Many of the concerns that excite public discourse are driven by questions of national identity. Concerns about immigration are cultural as well as economic. When the Archbishop of Canterbury spoke recently about Sharia law, the questions he raised about the place of religion in our public life bore directly on national identity as much as their immediate focus on the position of Islam. The strong reactions, for and against, Lord Goldsmith's suggestion for an oath of allegiance, the agonies the Conservative Party have put themselves through over Europe for 20 years, the alienation of young Muslim men, the arrival of a minority nationalist administration in the Scottish Parliament, all these issues derive their potency from views about national identity - and disputes about it.
More generally, the redistribution that is inherent in the tax system, is only sustainable within the framework of a politics founded on a shared identity and community of interest, where citizens are committed to reciprocal rights and responsibilities. And the electric sensitivity of anything to do with the monarchy flows from its role as an emblem of the nation and our national identity.
And a robust sense of national identity, shared widely, will be a source of national strength in the years ahead. The cohesion, solidarity and political stability it can foster are essential if societies are to meet the challenges created by the speed and extent of global economic change, driven by extraordinary technological revolutions, and radical social change, transforming the norms and patterns of behaviour that have characterised human relationships for centuries. Tackling these challenges will require hard choices and difficult decisions, and a society lacking a shared purpose and sense of identity will find them harder to take, diverting precious energy into purposeless friction, bickering instead of building.
If people are to seize the opportunities of change rather than being submerged by its challenges, then they must have confidence in their future. Unless people believe that tomorrow can be better than today , they will be unlikely to take the risks to make sure it is. And a rooted sense of belonging is crucial to that confidence.
In January, the Ministry of Justice commissioned Ipsos-MORI to carry out a survey to explore what sources of identity gave people a sense of belonging. 2,000 people were asked in face to face interviews how strongly, if at all, they felt a sense of belonging to Britain, to England/Scotland or Wales, to their local area or neighbourhood, their own age group, their religion or faith and their ethnic group.
- 45% said they strongly felt a sense of belonging to their religion or faith
- 69% said they strongly felt a sense of belonging to their ethnic group
- 70% said they strongly felt a sense of belonging to their own age group
- 78% said they strongly felt a sense of belonging to their local area or neighbourhood
- 80% felt a strong sense of belonging to Britain
- 82% in England felt a strong sense of belonging to England
- 91% in Scotland felt a strong sense of belonging to Scotland
- 95% in Wales felt a strong sense of belonging to Wales
Of course, there are variations from these national figures within sub-groups. For example, 81% in England felt a strong sense of belonging to Britain, compared with 87% in Wales and with 70% in Scotland and it's worth noting that, that for all the focus on the role on the Union in Scotland, 71% in London felt a strong sense of belonging to Britain, virtually the same percentage as in Scotland.
What emerges strongly from these findings is the strength of British identity as a source of belonging. And this is true across age, gender, region and ethnicity. 75% of black and minority ethnic respondents, for example, said they felt a strong sense of belonging to Britain.
And this feeling is resilient. Despite all the comment about the growth of national sentiment in England, Scotland and Wales and the detachment of minority groups, 54% said their sense of belonging to Britain had stayed the same over the last five years, 16% said it had become stronger and only 28% said it had become weaker. And again, there aren't significant variations across age, gender, region and ethnicity. 54% of whites, compared with 48% of black and minority ethnic respondents, for example, said their sense of belonging to Britain had stayed the same over the last five years.
These figures are significant. For years, commentators have argued that this government's measures of devolution have wounded, perhaps fatally, the Union, and that multiculturalism has fragmented national cohesion. But, while it is true that English, Welsh and Scottish sentiment has strengthened and that, for example, twice as many black and minority ethnic respondents felt a sense of belonging to their religion or faith as white respondents, nevertheless being British remains central to a sense of belonging for the great majority of the peoples of these islands. There are many and complex reasons for this resilience but, among other things, it must point to the importance of the pluralism that defines being British.
For our national identity is essentially plural. The nation state is the United Kingdom, a union of different nations, joined since the end of the Second World War by distinctive cultures from Asia, Africa and the Caribbean. It is this pluralism that distinguishes our British identity from the other allegiances we feel to one or other of the constituent parts of the United Kingdom.
As an institution the Union is important in shaping and defining much of what is important about being British. The union of nations over hundreds of years has demanded a tolerance and openness to others, accustoming us to the plural identities that lie at the heart of being British. It is intrinsic in the nature of the Union that we have multiple political allegiances: we can comfortably be Scottish-and-British or Cornish-and-British or Geordie-and-British or Bengali-and-British. And research has consistently shown how comfortable the British people are with such plural allegiances. Our British identity is different from our English identity or Scottish identity or our Bengali or Cornish identities because it is quintessentially plural. And therefore inherently inclusive.
And so attractive to all those who resist, for whatever reason, identifying themselves exclusively in a single category. Of course, a few will resist plural identities but the rest of us are clearly comfortable with them and welcome them.
That is why the commentators who insist on positing the rise of Scottish or English national sentiment, or indeed any other kind of identification, as undermining an identification with being British are mistaken. These identities are not alternatives, any more than being a man or a woman, or being old or young, is an alternative to being a Londoner or a Bengali. All these identities can exist alongside each other - and do so. What matters is first that they exist and, second, their reach - how many ascribe significance to them - and, third, what significance is attached to them. It is clear that, according to all three criteria, being British remains highly significant in the politics of identity.
And I believe that it's important that it does so. The Union has served the peoples of these islands well and should continue to do so. We share a common history - and a common destiny, bound by intimate bonds of friendship and kinship - 20% of the population of Wales was born in England, 7% of the population of Scotland was born in England, 745,000 people born in Scotland live in England: equivalent to 15% of the Scottish population. The Union is an institutional expression of admirable values - tolerance and openness.
And the Union offers a guarantee to the peoples of these islands - that need will be met equitably throughout the UK, sustainably over the long term. In these times of rapid and profound economic and social change, plenty and need are likely to shift, and go on shifting, throughout the UK, as year follows year. The shared sense of identity and destiny, embodied in the Union, ensures that the plentiful, at any given point, will look after the needy members of our moral and political community.
The vast majority of the people of these islands feel British and, I believe that's important for the future of this country. But are there any implications for public policy? Why should politicians feel the need to intervene in this area of public life?
Since the initial announcement last year that the government believed it was important to try to find a British statement of values that could bind us together, voices from the left and the right have been insisting that we shouldn't be doing this. That somehow it's unBritish to assert a British identity. That it'll exclude those who don't want to sign up to being British. That it's not needed and it's a waste of time and money. That the focus of public policy in this area should be elsewhere, using other mechanisms to engage with alienated Muslims and combat the separatist nationalists in Scotland and Wales. That it can only end up being banal or vacuous.
In my view, these arguments are mistaken. Of course, separatist nationalism must be taken on, and it is and it will be. Nor would any British statement of values be an alternative to encouraging expression of other identities. This government's measures of devolution were designed to encourage such expressions and I believe that we need to go further in expressing identities in England. But these can, and should, exist alongside a British statement of values. And, of course, new ways must be found to engage with alienated young Muslims and they are and they will be. But the formulation of a statement of values has a broader purpose, to bind the entire country together.
And there's nothing novel about our approach. Most advanced democracies have developed ways to express formally their view of who they are as a nation. This country has vigorously discussed throughout much of its history what it meant to be British. It was only in the years after the Second World War that we went through a period of introspection, lacking in self-confidence when such discussions were often regarded with embarrassment. We are now more successful and self-confident as a country and the government believes the time is right to find a way to express who we believe ourselves to be - in a way that is inclusive and commands broad support. And if other countries can find ways to express their sense of themselves that are not banal or vacuous, and indeed, often find ways of doing so that are inspiring, I see no reason why we should not also be able to do so.
I agree with those who argue that any list of values on its own will be too abstract and general to be that helpful in locating British identity. But that has never been the case we are making. People feel British and we have to find a way to describe that. If no-one believes any longer in nineteenth century definitions of blood and soil, then we must look elsewhere. I believe that our identity resides fundamentally in our shared values expressed through our history and our institutions, in an evolving conversation with each other. That is why the process we are setting out will seek not only a British statement of values but also how they should be expressed. And that is why I believe this process will be valuable.
I don't believe the critics have made their case against the British statement of values, but I do believe that we still need to make the positive case for embarking on this project and I believe there are two fundamental reasons for doing so.
First, if we don't do this together, as a country, in an inclusive process, there is a risk that others will do so, in a divisive and destructive way. National identity matters to people. If there isn't a national process to discuss it, in ways that include everyone on these islands, then a vacuum will be left in public discourse and there is a risk that it will be filled by sectarian views and sometimes even poisonous ones.
Second, the profound changes we are living through, great global migrations of people and capital, social and economic transformation, cultural volatility and flux all, inevitably, create pressures on identity and our sense of ourselves. And these are likely to intensify.
At such a time, it's important we do everything we can to support cohesion and assert what binds us together, rather than focus on what differentiates us. The test of success for this project will not be whether we get some predefined notion of a British statement of values - or even one at all. Rather it will be whether we can hold an inclusive discussion where the British people come together to discuss what binds us together. Ever since we announced the search for a British statement of values, the government has made it clear that, for us, the process of discussion and deliberation is as important as the outcome.
Any statement of values will not be imposed by government. Unless the process is driven by people themselves, it will never take root. So we are developing an innovative constitutional process where the key decisions will be made by the British people themselves. Shortly, we'll start a series of discussions up and down the country, accompanied by print material and online forums, on what it means to be British, what's best about it, what best expresses what's best about it. This will all be fed into a citizens summit - a representative sample of perhaps 500 people, selected randomly, for example, from the electoral register, but filtered, in much the same ways as opinion polls filter their samples, to ensure it is demographically representative.
Informed by these consultations and by presentations directly to them, the summit will deliberate - and, we hope, decide - on the main questions: should there be such a statement of values, if so what it should be, and finally what it should be used for. Their decision will then go to Parliament for a final decision and this innovative process forms part of the way in which we are seeking to augment and enhance our system of representative democracy.
This is a risk for government to take. We cannot control the outcome. We have deliberately constructed a process where we've given up control because we believe only such a process whose ownership is located among the people themselves, can have any chance of success.
For governments to let go of any process is a risk, but, in this case, I believe it is only really a risk if you believe the British people don't want to talk about what being British means to them. And I believe many, many do. And it is only really a risk that if you believe the British people cannot arrive at a shared view of what binds us together. And I believe they can. We can.