Linda Colley’s Britons
Linda Colley’s 1992 book Britons: Forging the Nation 1707-1837 attempts to determine the national character of the British Isles during the period in question. Principle to her study is a certain conception of the “nation” as an ideological construction which derives from specific cultural and economic developments. As Benedict Anderson has pointed out, the conception of a unified national identity is itself highly problematic. It should not be understood as a collection of cultural or political essentialisms which originate in ethnic characteristics, but rather should be viewed along the lines of Anderson’s rather infamous edict as ‘an imagined political community’. With this in mind, it is possible to locate Colley’s argument that the British population was collected as an imagined community – and more particularly, that they came to define themselves – “in reaction to the Other beyond their shores” (6). Throughout the seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth centuries, Britain was at almost continual war with France, particularly as a reaction to Imperial (or in other words, colonial) interests. Indeed, Colley goes so far as to suggest the rather bold statement that “prolonged struggle tested and transformed state power on both sides of the Channel” (3), ultimately resulting in the emergence of key social institutions such as the Bank of England and a nationwide financial system.
The first chapter of her book seeks to determine the identity of the Britons, and more precisely to determine how the British people viewed themselves as a unified national body. The country was itself created in 1707 when Parliament passed the Act of Union, unifying Scotland, England, and Wales into one political entity. Despite some language differences, particularly with the Welsh, who did not give up their language until the twentieth century, the three initially separate countries had drawn ever closer together by trade. In the case of Scotland, there was also a monarchal connection through the Stuart Dynasty. There remained some disparities among the three regions, however. There was no shared Celtic identity between the Scottish and the Welsh despite their shared linguistic difference from England proper. As well, there was a fair amount of internal division between locales, evidenced, for instance, by the continued cultural strife between the Highlands and the Lowlands in Scotland and between the Northern and Southern territories in England. England itself was internally unified by language, economy, and a less geographically diverse terrain than either of its neighbours, yet the variety of local customs, foods, and literatures demonstrate that English culture was not homogenous. Indeed, it seems evident that the border zones between nations had more in common with each other than they did to the centralized authorities to which they were ostensibly tied. It should be accordingly noted that under such conditions any sense of national identity must be read in a heteroglossiac manner: “Great Britain in 1707 was much less a trinity of three self-contained and self-conscious nations than a patchwork in which uncertain areas of Welshness, Scottishness, and Englishness were cut across by strong regional attachments, and scored over again by loyalties to village, town, family and landscape” (17). Some of these cultural differences were negotiated by advances in infrastructure, communications, and trade, the latter of which being free of internal tariffs or duties in opposition to Continental practise. There was a great deal of internal mobility largely resulting from trade, and consequently, “England and Scotland ... experienced a much faster rate of urban growth in the eighteenth century than did any other part of Europe” (39). Indeed, the “relative sophistication of [Britain’s] economic networks played an important part in keeping this culturally diverse land together” (43).
The most significant distinction Colley makes in her study is the extension of the psychological binary of Self and Other – an important trope for Ego formation since Freud – to the more broad social construction of national identity, and indeed Britons saw themselves as God’s chosen people. Fundamental to this belief is the protestant reformation of the sixteenth century which led to an independent church in England. British identity was the reification of the perceived difference between the island Self and the continental Other. This difference did have an internal dimension as well, for the biggest internal conflicts surrounded the ideological gulf felt between Protestants and Catholics. By the eighteenth century, Catholics could not vote, and were indeed second class citizens. It was believed that all of the catastrophes of recent history – the tyranny of James I, the London fire of 1666 – were all precipitated by Catholics. Print was of vital importance in unifying the Britons within this ideological field. Daily newspapers were numerous by the early eighteenth century, and outnumbered those produced by continental nations. While London served as the locus for print (and indeed non-print) culture – many provincial editors relied on news from London to fill their dailies – protestant ideologies had infiltrated British culture to such an extent that the ideological fundament of the papers reflected a similar, while not totally monolithic, culture. Cheap publications such as almanacs, sermons, and broadsheets sold exceptionally well and were quick to produce, and consequently were widely available to the subordinate classes: “this enormously enhanced access to print was a vital part of the conviction that Protestant Britons were peculiarly privileged” (42). They were used as vehicles for the spread of anti-Catholic sentiments and other “history” lessons, and were frequently written “to demonstrate the country’s centrality and miraculous deliverance from popery” (22). Similarly, John Foxe’s Book of Martyrs, which was as equally popular as the Bible, “linked brutal religious persecution with Roman Catholicism and foreign intervention” (27). The Martyrs were themselves associated with the commoners as well as the aristocracy in order to avoid, or at least hold at bay, any class antagonism.
While there was some tolerance of Catholicism – many knew a Catholic neighbour – Catholics could experience the same hostility as meted out to witches and heretics, particularly in times of war. Catholic nations were characterised by the British as slothful and inept, while Catholic values were themselves perceived as “upside-down” (36). The British did not experience the hardships of starvation and foreign invasion, and consequently there were no significant instances of civilian casualties or property destruction. “The relative absence of famine was a powerful aid to social stability” (37), and this stability led to a belief that Protestantism was indeed the more ‘righteous’ ideological path. Adversity to the ‘obvious moral corruption’ of Catholicism helped define a British identity as chosen by God: “suffering and recurrent exposure to danger were a sign [sic] of grace; and, if met with fortitude and faith, the indispensable prelude to victory under God” (29). Indeed, religion had so tied itself to political (national) identity that in 1688 and 1714 the rules of succession were altered to disallow Catholic claimants on the throne from gaining power. The Hanoverian George I, for example, himself of German origin, was given power by Parliament over fifty otherwise more eligible individuals whose sole detrimental characteristic was their adherence to Catholicism. To legitimate Protestant rulers, the divine right of kings, fundamental to English legal structure since Magna Carta, was itself suspended in favour of “divine providence and the people’s will” (48). Great Britain was allegorized as the new Jerusalem, with battles against Catholic states depicted as “the triumph of Israel over the Moabites” (31). Apart from the loss of some American colonies in 1776, Britain enjoyed a series of strategic victories: “it was easy ... for Protestant polemicists to argue, and tempting for the mass of men and women to believe, that it was the expulsion of those Stuart princes who had inclined toward Catholicism, and the unity of the island under a Protestant dynasty that had transformed Britain’s position in the world” (53) from the insular, rather marginal power it had been in the sixteenth century to the might of its Imperial control by the nineteenth.
Such an aggrandized sense of Self needs a potent Other with which to ontologically define itself. For much of the period in question, France occupied this hallowed position for the British consciousness. The country did pose a threat to British interests, as it had a larger landmass and population, could field a stronger and more numerous army, and was pointedly anti-Protestant. It was feared that the French would restore Catholicism to Britain and consequently return the country to the hell of its troubled history: “the prospect in the first half of the eighteenth century of a Catholic monarchy being restored in Britain by force, together with the recurrent wars with Catholic states, and especially with France, ensured that the vision that so many Britons cherished of their own history became fused in an extraordinary way with their current experience” (25). It is here that Colley’s argument falls slightly. It seems more likely that the Other was a religious rather than a national one, even though the two were one and the same in the case of countries such as France. The acceptance of the many Hugenots who fled the Continent to settle in England is proof that the British people did not equate foreignness as inherently corrupt. Furthermore, by stressing the importance of the British Parliament to national identity – the institution was idiosyncratic to Britain, for many such congregations had ceased to operate on the Continent: “Parliament was unique, splendid and sovereign, the hard-won prerogative of a free and Protestant people” (50) – Colley implicitly suggests an alternate avenue for Otherness that she does not explore. Parliament as a social construction represents a unique conflation of the individual and an ontological tendency for anti-individualism, for it was ostensibly used to represent the will of the individual as reified by social and legal structure. Many, even those Britons who lacked full citizenship for economic reasons, could bring their political desires before this institution, and this sense of agency for the otherwise marginalised was a potent force uniting the disparate peoples of Great Britain. The perceived Other is the individual who does not conform to the rules of political interpellation: “the Protestant construction of British identity involved the unprivileging of minorities who would not conform” (53). It might be possible to argue, however, that the more authentic Other in the case of the British consciousness is the irrational, to which both Protestantism and legal practise applied their medicaments. The Self evolved over the course of three centuries, manifesting as potent social institutions, such as Parliament and the legal code, which themselves signified Britishness more than any individual cultural practise. That these institutions were shared amongst the territories which constituted Great Britain signals the true unifying nature of the projection of Self-identity onto a national consciousness.
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