On rising this morning, I was curious to know how England had got on during the night in the seething cauldron of the Estadio Azteca in Mexico. I flicked the radio on and it was immediately apparent, not from the information delivered, but by the tone, that they had won. I was mildly surprised to find myself elated. There’s a gag up here does the rounds: I once drank a can of Irn Bru in 1966, but I don’t keep going on about it. I cracked it at my German conversation class just before we broke up for the summer. I’m not sure that it went down that well with my English Mitschüler. I remember that Andy Murray, in his pomp, was asked during Wimbledon, which coincided with a previous major football tournament, who he was supporting since Scotland had not qualified. He said, “Anybody but England” – which might have been taken as “banter”, but it didn’t go down well at all. He had to apologise.
You might say that my delight that England beat Mexico drei zu zwei, “three to two”, as the Germans would have it, was a kind of act of courtesy, and generosity of spirit, towards our near neighbour. I gather the Germans, having been knocked out, are supporting England. Komm schon England! But that is because the England manager is German. I didn’t consciously “decide” to support England. It was more visceral than that. I greatly admire the English. I remarked to somebody yesterday afternoon that if any team could play away in a stadium where they would be up against overwhelming home support, playing in sweltering heat in a thin atmosphere, it would be England. The Dunkirk spirit, the Nelson touch, and all that. The Americans compared Harry Kane to a Spitfire pilot. But good heavens, if they go all the way, we’ll never hear the end of it.
But then it occurred to me that all my apparent altruistic largesse might after all have a baser ulterior motive. I have a notion that, during the semiquincentennial celebrations of the Declaration of Independence, an England win might not go down that well with the Grand Old Party. They are after all celebrating a victory of the thirteen states over Great Britain. Wouldn’t it be amusing if England rained on their parade? But why would I wish to rain on their parade? Could it be because J. D. Vance is highly critical of our politics? He’s all over yesterday’s Sunday Times. I suppose he has struck a nerve. 7 PMs in 10 years is not good, there’s no denying it, even if his own politics are not to my taste. But any desire of mine to place a cloud over the White House is neither here nor there. The elements need no assistance. In Washington, before the fireworks, everybody had to take a rain check and shelter inside the nearest museum, in more sweltering heat, during the thunder and lightning.
During the current celebrations, I haven’t heard much reference to America’s first peoples. They say that America is 250 years old, just as it is said that Australia is 238 years old. But the original Australian civilisation is about 60,000 years old, and I dare say American civilisation is similarly ancient. Thomas Jefferson said, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal…” In the event, this proposed equality did not extend to the first peoples, just as it didn’t, at least initially, extend to African-American slaves. That raises the possibility that the high-flown language in the Declaration of Independence, and its current celebration, might merely be humbug.
But I don’t think so. George Orwell quotes the Declaration of Independence on the very last page of 1984.
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed. That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or abolish it, and to institute new Government…
Orwell quotes this within the context of an appendix which is a treatise, The Principles of Newspeak. He envisaged a totalitarian government having taken absolute control of language, and its use, such as to make independence of thought, and creativity, impossible. In Newspeak, it would be impossible to render Jefferson’s words, or his thought. The political threat to language, and lucidity, is a constant theme in Orwell’s writing. In Politics and the English Language he deplores the use in language of the abstract over the concrete. We see Newspeak now, do we not, in the abbreviated language of social media, just as we see abstraction in the language churned out by Artificial Intelligence.
Orwell didn’t think much of sport. He thought it had base motives. It was war, only without the firearms. I imagine he would have admired James Kirkup’s Rugby League Game.
Sport is absurd, and sad,
These grown men, just look.
So I don’t suppose he would have had much interest in the World Cup. I think under the circumstances he would have found the invocation of the spirit of Henry V completely absurd. I don’t know how the fixtures work out, I haven’t checked, but if England end up playing France, they’d better not bang on about Agincourt. Crispan Crispian, gentlemen abed will think themselves accursed, and all that. That would be the height of bad manners, considering M. Macron has just lent the British Museum the Bayeux Tapestry (which, I’m told, is not a tapestry; it’s an embroidery, embroidered by women, who don’t get a mention in the Declaration of Independence either). Maybe when the British Museum gets the embroidery, they won’t give it back. They’ve got form here after all. The Elgin Marbles. The Lewis Chessmen. But I’m just being mischievous. The Entente Cordiale is in rude health. How sweet it is to be loved, Bayeux.
Meanwhile across the Pond, I hope the current administration manage to live up to the words of Jefferson, and not distort them. I have high hopes. Winston, half American, it is said one thirty-second Iroquois, reminded us that the Americans can always be relied upon to do the right thing, after they have exhausted every other possibility. So every success to the 250th celebrations.
And every success to England. I have this sneaking suspicion. I think they’re going to win.
jamescalumcampbell 