The Colosseum of the Culture War

When we sift through the records of human existence, broadly speaking, it's seen as poor form to betray your own nation. From ancient times, the name Ephialtes is only remembered for his singular villainous act of betraying King Leonidas and his Spartan warriors at Thermopylae, thus handing victory to a Persian menace. In the United States, Benedict Arnold is emphatically denounced as a turncoat for undermining the American struggle. So complete was the treachery of Vidkun Quisling during World War II that, in addition to handing Norway over to the goose-stepping hordes of Hitler, his surname became a noun and byword for a traitor. In all these instances, these men sold out their homes and peoples to foreign powers for self-interest and convenience. Indeed, it might be suggested that, somewhere within their minds, there could have been some genuine moral principle, but the fact remains that, generally speaking, history has not remembered them that way. What distinguishes these traitors of previous ages from those of today, however, is that these past examples were always men whose treachery necessitated subterfuge. There could be no facade of virtue around their actions. In our time of inverted morals, however, relinquishing the sovereignty of our island Kingdom to the European Union has become an objective that continues to be espoused without a trace of discretion.

In my previous piece, I elaborated on how The Proms, a thoroughly British cultural event, was being besieged by omnipresent and ceaseless ideologues. They intend to drag the tradition into their camp and claim it as their own. This recent week, when the Last Night at the Proms was broadcast across the nation on BBC One, I must confess that despite my warnings that The Proms were under attack, I could not have foreseen the boldness of their assault: the sight of a torrent of blue flags crashing upon the beleaguered British patriots. If you had gazed at the television as I did, your eyes would have seen our Union Flag vastly outnumbered by that of the European Union's. In broad daylight, they declare without shame that our home should once again be ensnared in Brussels' web of power, and this time, indissolubly. It is these kinds of schemes that once would have had to have been discussed in dark rooms, for dark deeds. No longer.

The Royal Albert Hall has been turned into a colosseum of the culture wars. Every tool in the arsenal of Britain's enemies was unleashed there. In many ways, it is only natural that due to the event being held in London, the great citadel of the Anglophobes, we should expect it to be attended by those who are in favour of every intersectional cause and anti-British endeavour. So much of their power comes from their visibility and organisation. The optics of seeing so many EU flags at the Last Night at the Proms waving to the might of Rule Britannia has a visual dissonance that cannot be understated.

Rule, Britannia! Britannia rules the waves! Britons never, never, never shall be slaves!

So gleefully bellowed the Remainers who wish to see Britannia politically enslaved to a foreign and unaccountable political entity. They sing the words and wear the skin suits of patriots, but their actions are of those with genuinely deplorable moral character. Some credit must be conceded to them, however: they have made Rule Britannia the most relevant it has been since the Second World War.

This makes it all the more ironic that the lead cellist of that night, Sheku Kanneh-Mason, recently admitted to not understanding why Rule Britannia "is so important to people." He naturally advocates for it to be replaced. What is most disgusting about this is that this is framed as our personal failure. That we, the British, must justify our own heritage in our own home. The true question is, has Kanneh-Mason ever truly wished to understand its significance: of its ability to generate fortitude in the hearts of almost three centuries' worth of Britons throughout a plethora of crises? It has been sung in stalwart fashion in the face of the Barbary pirates, Napoleon Bonaparte, Hitler, and now, more farcically, submissive EU lackeys. It is an anthem of our people. It is not to be put on trial now just because of the willful ignorance of disingenuous actors.

There is one more aspect of all this to inspect: What can be done? The New Culture Forum founder, Peter Whittle, suggested that the "Last Night at the Proms is best avoided now." I say, with a great amount of reverence for the work that Mr. Whittle has done and continues to do, that I passionately object to his suggestion. I outlined in my previous piece the imperative patriotic zeal that The Proms can conjure. They do this to demoralise us. They mean to break our hope and make the world they desire appear inevitable, but the fact is that we have the power to do something about this. Are we to constantly watch as each and every cultural gift our ancestors gave us is dragged to numerous nadirs until the next year comes along? It would send a powerful message after their latest stunt if, next year, the blue of their flags was but a speck against the rolling ripples of our homely national symbol, once more. All that is required of us is to be present. To stand there, waving and singing proudly and showing people that we don't have to accept things getting worse, things being torn away from us, year after year. We have it in our power to make next year different. The quislings have never been bolder, so we must be bolder still.