English Speaking Commune

A lot of talk the last few days, of course, about Britain being one and apart from Europe. I've never thought of it as European per se, but distinctly British and set apart that France, Germany and Netherlands, say, are not.

Via Instapundit, a great quote from George Orwell about Britain:

When you come back to England from any foreign country, you have immediately the sensation of breathing a different air. Even in the first few minutes dozens of small things conspire to give you this feeling. The beer is bitterer, the coins are heavier, the grass is greener, the advertisements are more blatant. The crowds in the big towns, with their mild knobby faces, their bad teeth and gentle manners, are different from a European crowd. Then the vastness of England swallows you up, and you lose for a while your feeling that the whole nation has a single identifiable character. Are there really such things as nations? Are we not forty-six million individuals, all different? And the diversity of it, the chaos! The clatter of clogs in the Lancashire mill towns, the to-and-fro of the lorries on the Great North Road, the queues outside the Labour Exchanges, the rattle of pin-tables in the Soho pubs, the old maids hiking to Holy Communion through the mists of the autumn morning – all these are not only fragments, but characteristic fragments, of the English scene. How can one make a pattern out of this muddle?

Those differences have set the English speaking peoples apart. Why is Barbados nice while Haiti is Haiti?

There is a certain community of the English speaking peoples. Whatever one's ethnic heritage, if you're an American, Britain is the mother country. Most travel minded Americans will go to Britain at least once in their lives. The Queen and all that seem so close. A dirty little secret is that we Americans love the Royal Family more than the Brits.  In the American mind, Britain is also the gateway to Europe.

I do a lot of business with British magazines now. It really is true that we are two peoples separated by a common language. Whenever British editors and sales people call our conversations are dotted with awkward pauses. 'Hello?' I say. 'Is this William, then?' they always reply. They always hangup with a 'cheers, then' or 'brilliant'. I suppose I come off as an over enthusiastic Yank. There is always a barrier between us.

Canadians and Americans are the most alike, obviously. You can't really tell us apart accept for a few linguistic ticks which non-native English speakers won't be able to pick up, eh? The American travelling overseas who doesn't want to identify a such will always pretend to be from Toronto. The Cannucks have a politeness and reserve about them and a bit of hesitation, as if they can't decide if they're Brits or Yanks.

Of all the English speaking peoples the Australians are most like Americans. Almost the exact same history of conquering a continent, and the shared British heritage of course. They have the same outgoing and easygoing attitude as American. I am always instantly comfortable dealing with an Aussie.

Can't say I ever met a New Zealander or a South African in his natural environment and the South Africans I've known are Boers.

Britain since World War Two has been moving ever closer to the Continent. We hope the Brexit will slow and stop that, much as the Battle of Hasting severed England from Scandinavia.

There is a commune for Britain to join. We suggest that Britain join her eldest sons, America and Canada.