English colonisation in the age of decolonialisation
In the summer of 43 AD Rome managed to gain a foothold on English shores, negotiating with and displacing the previous Celtic ruling class and imposing Roman values on their new subjects. Over the next 1000 years Germanic tribes, Scandinavians, and Francasised Scandinavians all followed, each stamping their own identities and cultures on the British Isles. Post-1066 there followed a dramatic imposition of feudalism upon English, then Irish, and finally Welsh inhabitants, to the point that the previous cultures melted into something that would emerge as an English national identity.
Why does this matter? Why should discussions about decolonialisation in the modern context consider the colonised history of the English? Surely, the English are colonisers, and reclaiming cultural identities and histories suppressed by English hegemony must take precedence. It matters, because to reclaim from that Englishness there must be an understanding of the Englishness we are reclaiming from.
What we consider Englishness is a fusion of national identity and culture that emerged out of a direct rejection of Frenchness during the 100 years wars. Our lingua franca is as much the ruling class breaking from their French roots as it is about their subjects forging a national identity to overcome external oppression. The ruling class co-opted Englishness, or rather embraced Germanic Englishness, as a means to win support and entrench their rule. The colonising power subverted the common tongue for their own ends, essentially assimilating themselves into the fabric of the nation, rather than assimilating the English to a particular type of continentalism.
The Norman and Plantagenet dynasties were inveterate colonisers; between 1066 and 1385 English monarchs systematically colonised Wales and Ireland, only to be thrown back by the Scots finally in 1385. The loss of French territory, and subsequent attempts to recolonise it, during the 100 years war of 1337 to 1453 sapped resources and capital that would have otherwise been used to consolidate English hegemony within the British Isles. The Plantagenet need to retain their English subject support over the course of the war was the root of their English assimilation. Henry V’s Agincourt victory, and all attendant iconography and national myth laid the foundation of our hegemonic view of Englishness.
This forging of a national self, in opposition to an external foe, set the stage for how Englishness is defined. In opposition to the Roman Catholic Church, in opposition to Spanish hegemony in the Americas, in opposition to French and German imperialism; indeed, the English flag has roots in opposition to the Muslim colonisation of the Holy Lands. This oppositional nature sees a certain type of centralised Englishness as paramount, only assimilating external elements when it faces an existential threat. The same facets are found in nationalist identities the world over, that to forge a nature you must other all external cultures as ‘foreign’ and a potential threat to the body politic of subjects/citizens. England was not the first country to be forged in nationalism, but crucially it happened at a moment in history where English centralised hegemony could take root and maximalise itself.
What do this have to do with decolonialisation, especially reclaiming cultures and histories lost to English Imperialism? I would argue that it the deep rooted oppositional nature of English identity, as opposed the relatively recent national identities of most nations, makes it harder for the English to fully unpack both the nature of the colonialization and the impact that colonialization had on the nature of English identity.
The English language has 600 years as the language of command and governance, deliberately displacing French as the language of Court due to the 100 years’ war. It would take France until after the 1792 revolution to impose a state version of French on the nation, the Italian and German unifications for a centralised version of their respective languages. By co-opting Court English as the language of control, it imposed a version of English in the printed word that was formalised and at odds to many of the regional dialects found throughout English. In addition, as English spread as a colonial language, Irish, Welsh, Gaelic, and a myriad of other languages were either outright banned or pushed to the margins. A unified language benefited law, commerce, and the spread of ideas at the expense of the rich cultural contexts that were left along the way.
Decolonialisation discussions need to be centred on the needs of the dispossessed, excluded, and marginalised. There needs to be a deep understanding that English hegemony, both linguistically and historically, harms those not of the centre, and by unpacking that we can achieve solidarity rather than opposition to decolonialisation efforts. There is a reason school history focuses on national identity and insular events, as it reinforces the oppositional nature of hegemonic nationhood. By cutting across those boundaries, by showing that English nationalism is no more constructed that Italian, German, or French, you can demonstrate that only those in power benefit from it.
Marginalised voices must have room to be heard. Unpacking English identity, especially the role that colonisation within the British Isles played in forging that identity, breaks down the barriers and helps aid in bringing hidden voices to the table. Centres of power exist only until they are challenged and either torn down or evolved into new structures. History as a narrative is very much a nexus of power, one which marginalised people must be able to co-opt for themselves to forge their own narratives.
