Will there always be an England?

There are signs that Britons are waking up to the calamity in our midst.

Certain people’s death mark the end of an era. The Queen’s, no doubt, will be seen as a caesura in British history, with the post-Elizabethan age markedly different to the one that passed before it - not that the changes weren’t underway already.

Another person whose death symbolised the passing of the Britain yesteryear was Vera Lynn, whose patriotic songs are a mainstay of any starry-eyed reference to our Blitz spirit and giving Jerry a damned good bash on the nose.

Among her most famous songs is the 1939 There’ll Always Be An England. The title is reassuring for those of us who see our homeland transmogrifying with alarming speed. In the song, England is defined in quaint, bucolic ways. Our minds are put at rest as, wherever there is a ‘country lane’ or a ‘cottage small beside a field of grain’, England will continue to exist.

There is, however, a caveat. The last lines of the tune go thus:

There'll always be an England
And England shall be free
If England means as much to you
As England means to me.

And that is the catch: England undoubtedly means far less to them than it does to me. To our politicians, England is not really a country with a history and a people – certainly nothing worth conserving in any meaningful sense. Rather it is a giant hotel open to all and sundry, so long as they perpetuate the illusion of economic growth (in a country, it should be remembered, with almost no productivity growth for almost fifteen years).

Recent decades have seen the deliberate dismantling of England. Not only is identifying as English frowned upon, standing in stark contrast to the constant national chest-thumping of the Scots, Welsh and Irish, but the demography of England has been changed irrevocably within the space of only a few decades: from close to 95% ‘white British’ in 1990, England is now less than 75% ‘white British’. Given the age profiles of those involved, we can expect that figure to head further south.

Moreover, a recent estimate put that ‘white British’ children will constitute a minority in British schools by 2060.

The majority of immigrants to Great Britain end up in England. That they largely do not head to the Celtic fringe allows the woad-painted to continually flaunt their progressive credentials without ever having to consider the impacts.

Yet for those of us whose hometowns are now in large part unrecognisable – from the Polski sklep, to the Afro-Caribbean hairdressers, to the money-laundering ‘Turkish’ (read Albanian) ‘barbers’ – the pace and scale of change has transformed once English towns into ugly melanges of communities disinterested in each other’s existences.

Once people are brought in faster than the rate at which they can be assimilated, ghettoisation and disconnect from the dominant culture surely follows. Competing narratives emerge and, in an era where any call for asserting English cultural supremacy in England is instantly dubbed as worse than Hitler, the culture that grew up here over many centuries is suddenly just one among many.

This will only get worse, with immigration rates into Great Britain at levels unimaginable at any other point in our millennia-long history. And as these hundreds of thousands (and soon one million) make their way here every year with no concomitant investment in the infrastructure necessary to support them, our quality of life will fall. Pressure grows on housing, hospitals, and transport. People can no longer afford a roof over their head and the food on their plates.

Not that this is just because of immigration. However, combine it with the calamitous policies of government which amount to economic self-mutilation – net-zero, becoming totally reliant on foreign sources of energy, the constant flogging off of strategic national infrastructure – and the utter scale of harm is impossible not to see. That such a disaster has been reached purely through incompetence alone becomes harder to believe by the day.

Elsewhere in Vera Lynn’s song, a plea is made:

Surely you're proud
Shout it out loud
Britons awake!

Having perhaps misheard the lyrics, those in control of making decisions are not so much awake as woke. Yet, as every poll on the matters show, the changes that have taken place to our nation are widely unpopular. Britons for too long were asleep to the huge changes that were being wrought on their country. Trust in those in power was too great for too long.

And yet, there are signs that Britons are waking up to the calamity in our midst. Whether it will be in time to save England – and Britain – from the utopian schemes of the Western-hating post-modernists is another question.

As it stands, there are very few people in any position of power in our country to whom England is worth a damn.

England, ultimately, will only be saved by those to whom England means something.