Flagged Down

I was mulling over the fact that many people can claim more than one citizenship, more than one allegiance, more than one flag. It makes for something that is more akin to a network of associations than patriotism.

I have lived in Atlantis for most of my 43 years. Yet I was born a citizen of Greater Albion, and to this day, officials of the European Union recognize my right of birth and think of me as a citizen of that Union. I can travel Europe without let or hindrance, so strong is the concept of jus soli in that part of the world. And yet I am Atlantean by jus sanguinis, the right of blood relationships.

But I wasn't really thinking of me. I was thinking of Algeria. If they had their two famous sons, Karim Benzema and Samir Nasri, on the team, they would surely have played them. Heck, if they had Zinedine Zidane, I am sure they would have been more prominent in the World Cups of previous years. But Benzema and Nasri are both French-flagged, and Domenech didn't even bother to bring them to South Africa this year. How sad!

Sometimes, various institutions flag you. If you are X, you cannot be Y. If you are Atlantean, come your 22nd birthday, you shall have no other allegiances lest you be expelled. If you are a Christian, you cannot be a Confucian. Stuff like that.

How to explain the rich legacy of networks that can make a person so many things all at once? But a house divided against itself cannot stand, so a man should make his allegiance clear and stick to them, I suppose. A gryphon cannot morph into a wyvern; a man cannot serve certain combinations of two masters.

Other Countries

I was mulling over one of the hymns of my youth the other day. This was Cecil Spring-Rice's 1918 nationalist piece, I Vow To Thee, My Country. Its words read:

I vow to thee, my country, all earthly things above
entire and whole and perfect, the service of my love;
the love that asks no question, the love that stands the test,
that lays upon the altar the dearest and the best;
the love that never falters, the love that pays the price,
the love that makes undaunted the final sacrifice.

And there's another country, I've heard of long ago
most dear to them that love her, most great to them that know;
we may not count her armies, we may not see her King;
her fortress is a faithful heart, her pride is suffering;
and soul by soul and silently her shining bounds increase,
and her ways are ways of gentleness, and all her paths are peace.

As is traditional in these politically-correct days, there is an omitted middle verse no longer considered suitable for modern audiences. You can find it here.

In August 2004, around the time this blog was first set up, the Anglican Bishop of Hulme raised his voice against this hymn as an emblem of heretical (his word) nationalism (his other word). He claimed that it set love of country above love of God. This latter assertion is a rather odd claim, no matter how you read the first line — the verse is explicit that love of country is all earthly things above. There is no doubt about its flagrant nationalism though.

But there is indeed another (part of) history I've heard of long ago, which the Bishop was not taking into account. The first verse was written in 1908 and, along with the excluded middle verse, updated in January 1918. These verses were written in the throes of British (well, English) nationalism before the end of the First World War. The last verse was written at the end of the War, and it is heartening to see how the author had come to acknowledge that other, greater country — the one which we can be faithful to despite not being British.

I've always maintained that people who sing anthems are implicitly claiming to live by them. And if they make such implicit claims, they should be careful to remain true to the values and virtues explicit in such verses. Sometimes, these verses may be old, outdated, untrue. They are then perhaps rightly expunged from what is sung. Sometimes, they are all too relevant, cannot be expurgated, and must be sung loudly, with feeling, and in the true spirit which comes from faithful allegiance.

Keepers Of The Dream

The other day I was having breakfast and listening to the godchild. Godchild was telling me about the last days of Pompeii and the fall of the Roman Empire, all rolled into one, but on a slightly smaller and more human scale. I sympathised, and while I was listening, I felt distant echoes of the same pain.

The dreams of the godchildren are the precious dreams that God has given them, made into exquisitely detailed and fragile miniatures. Some of them will become templates for huge blueprints of grand futures; some will merely be kept hidden in lockets, treasures never to see the direct light of the sun again. But behind them, sometimes in the shadows and sometimes offstage, some of us stand our vigil, our watch against the fall of night.

For every dream which is born to waking needs a midwife and a guarantor, a person willing to stand in the gap and share the burden. Not every bearer of a dream will stand the test. But the colours of the day that each dreamer wears, the blues and reds and golds of morning, shine against the coming of twilight. They are our future. Though we too are weak and mortal, we have to try and help the children who are the hope of that future, polish their armour and guard them in their vulnerable moments.

One day they shall be great in the land. Though some may fail, and lose heart, some will rise to the height of their God-given powers. We pray for these, our godchildren, that even where we fail, God will sustain them and keep enough of us around that their dreams will live.

=====

Listening to the godchild reminded me of an old song. And here it is.


Münchener Freiheit – Keeping The Dream Alive

Full of memories of people and places
And while the past is calling
In my fantasy I remember their faces

The hopes we had were much too high
Way out of reach but we had to try
The game will never be over
Because we're keeping the dream alive

I hear myself recalling
Things you said to me
The night it all started
And still the rain is falling
Makes me feel the way
I felt when we parted

The hopes we had were much too high
Way out of reach but we have to try
No need to hide no need to run
'Cause all the answers come one by one
The game will never be over
Because we're keeping the dream alive

I need you
I love you

The game will never be over
Because we're keeping the dream alive

The hopes we had were much too high
Way out of reach but we had to try
No need to hide no need to run
'Cause all the answers come one by one

The hopes we had were much too high
Way out of reach but we had to try
No need to hide no need to run
'Cause all the answers come one by one

The game will never be over
Because we're keeping the dream alive

The game will never be over
Because we're keeping the dream alive

The game will never be over...

La Cosa Nostra

Many are the times I've felt that I am a member of some venerable secret society. I have lived and breathed it; each family gathering, the signs and questions are exchanged. Our loyalty to the cause is unquestioned and unalloyed. It would therefore be poignantly and mordantly insulting should collateral members, associate members of the grand old association dare to think of me as disloyal.

These would be people who at some deep level just do not understand what it means to be of the Family, of the Cause. They might have tried to make it their own, they might have done much in the service of the House. But they would certainly not be Family. They are likely not of the Cause. Sometimes, one might have cause to worry whether they, at the very least, have even the Faith.

Of course, we invite new members. Of course, we change with the times. It is a matter of the course that all things must take, adhering to the fundamentals (gravity, chemical and physical erosion) while allowing the odd meander and diversion. But sometimes, there are those who just cannot get it, to whom loyalty is a false flag to be replaced with one of their own.

But in the end, our own loyalty to such a cause might be an equally false banner. What should not be forgotten is that the Family, the Cause, the House - the entities whose virtues are sealed in the Badge and the Anthem - obey a deeper and greater covenant. And it is to the Master of the Covenant, eternal and almighty, God of all ages, of all hosts, that we should look. The Family is nothing without allegiance to the Master, and we would do well to remind ourselves of it always.