Britain on the Brink

White Cliffs of Dover, credit Wikipedia

Britain on the Brink, by Stuart Millson

In 1940, with the massed-armed forces of Nazi Germany over-running Western Europe, the French General, Weygand, faced with his country’s defeat, declared: “The Battle of France is over. I expect the Battle of Britain is about to begin.” Having spent much of the previous decade hoping that the prospect of another European conflict would never materialise, the British political class and public trusted in the politics of what has become known as ‘appeasement’ – the idea that ‘far-away lands of which we know nothing’ should stew in their own juice; that buying time, or even concluding treaties with continental dictators would ensure that we were never again faced with the spectre of world war. Chamberlain’s efforts to ensure such a peace, though well-intentioned, were soon shattered, and as the year 1939 began, Britain was beginning to organise a civil-defence and armaments policy – Mr. Chamberlain, himself, pictured on his way from Downing Street, his gas-mask carrier slung across the shoulder of his immaculate, well-brushed suit.

By May 1940, Chamberlain had been replaced by Winston Churchill, who promised the country little more than ‘blood, tears and sweat.’ The new Premier’s great speech – ‘… we will fight them on the beaches…’, though stirring, alerted the nation to the prospect that it might well be invaded; and that in such circumstances, the remnants of the British army and lion-hearted civilians would have to fight the Germans in county-town high-streets and along country lanes. In the event, despite the shock of being at war again – the nation held together well, through Blitz, evacuation, rationing and privation. The wartime propagandists created an image of a country ‘smiling through’, which was not far from the truth. People simply got on with it.

Today, certain commentators and historians sneer at the ‘patrician society’ of 1939-1940; a time when many people automatically heeded what they were told by the Church, the politicians, the Royal Family, the (Reithian) BBC – in those days, a voice of authority across an Empire. But it was arguably that very ‘conformity’, or more accurately, a relative oneness in its identity and values, that enabled Britain to survive. Long before the days of multiple television channels, multiple ‘lifestyle choices’, the ‘me, me, me’ society, Britons were, broadly speaking, of the same outlook, and thus would respond to calls to stand together, brandish a pitchfork and defend the land.

Eighty years after VE Day, Britain – supposedly a victor of the Second World War – seems more like a defeated country, such is the low morale, notwithstanding the numerous sporting events which are meant to cheer us up. Conversations, on buses, in pubs, between friends and family, on social media, often veer toward: ‘how bad things are’ – ‘isn’t it terrible that such-and-such has happened’ – ‘why can’t the politicians do anything about it?’ – ‘where are the police when you need them, where is a hospital appointment when you urgently want it?’ – and so forth. Political crises unfold at an alarming rate, and news bulletins report on the latest murder, the latest stabbing, or the latest ‘public inquiry’ or ‘government crackdown’; a never-ending series of headlines, announcements, Government initiatives, ‘lessons that will be learned’… all of which end in nothingness. And our news really does reflect the country of today – as in the outrage (from activists and liberal-left journalists) several months ago when a court finally ruled that someone who was born a biological male, could not really be regarded as a woman. Another story beamed into the homes of a numbed public was a bulletin reporting on ‘Border Force’ officials helping ashore hundreds of migrants from beyond Europe’s borders: some 20,000 people came to Britain this year, crammed onto dinghies putting out from the French coast. So much for the Prime Minister’s plan for a new Border Command: so much for the millions of pounds paid to the French Government to help stem the tide.

Meanwhile, the Chancellor of the Exchequer has other burdens to weep over – not least the £100 billion outlay on sickness and disability benefits, within which, as the Taxpayers’ Alliance observes, are included: a 507 per cent increase in claims to help with ‘Tourettes syndrome’; a 490 per cent increase for assistance with drugs misuse; and a statistic of 365 per cent for those seeking help with depression.

Defence spending, which usually has to wait its turn in Government spending rounds, has had to increase, as those ‘far away countries of which we know nothing’ are, once again, the centres of conflict, threatening to spill across western borders. However, the scale of UK military weakness was laid bare, when at the end of June, pro-Palestinian activists scaled an RAF aerodrome perimeter fence and daubed warplanes with graffiti – the fence, it was later revealed, being little more than the sort of structure one would find surrounding a municipal waste tip. And just over four decades on from the Falklands conflict, in which 250 servicemen gave their lives to restore the sovereignty of these South Atlantic islands, the Government has withdrawn the Royal Naval warship which once patrolled those waters. It was also reported by The Daily Telegraph that the small squadron of RAF fighter-jets, stationed in the Falklands, are only partially operational, leading those of us left who even care, to ponder the question: if re-invaded, could Britain ever mount another rescue mission to those islands?

Britain, in 2025, has lost its way. Whilst Israel protects its people with a hi-tech anti-missile shield, our own Ministry of Defence seems unable to build perimeter fences at its airfields. And as Finland, fearing Russian aggression, organises huge civil-defence programmes, involving large-scale reserve forces enthusiastically drawn from the population (many of those serving, clearly in the younger generation), a recent opinion poll suggested that only 35 per cent of the population would be prepared to fight to defend this country.

In a world bristling with militaristic threats from vastly-stronger states, and a very real sense that in just half-a-century from now, mankind will be grappling with problems concerning food, energy and (for the first time in the northern hemisphere) water supplies, ill-prepared, head-in-the-sand Britain is perilously lurching toward the edge of a precipice.

1982, Falklands War, HMS Broadsword & HMS Hermes, credit Wikipedia

Stuart Millson is Classical Music Editor of QR