What Everyone Knows About Britain (Except the British, and Sometimes Even Me)

“O wad some Power the giftie gie us / To see oursels as ithers see us!” Robert Burns knew a thing or two about human nature, and his words ring just as true when applied to entire nations. How often do we, blinded by familiarity and perhaps a touch of national pride, fail to see our own countries as they truly are? This question lies at the heart of Michael Peel’s thought-provoking book, What Everyone Knows About Britain.

Peel, a British journalist, returned to his homeland after a decade abroad, only to find a country that felt strangely unfamiliar. It was as if Britain had undergone a subtle yet profound transformation, one that most Britons themselves seemed oblivious to. The book’s central premise is a punchy one: Britain, Peel argues, is in a state of denial about its current state of affairs.

As a French-Moroccan journalist living in London, I found myself nodding along to many of Peel’s observations. Living in the in-between – observing British society through the lens of my own dual heritage – has given me a unique perspective. It’s like watching a film with two sets of subtitles, picking up on nuances that might be missed with a single cultural lens. And let me tell you, the subtitles don’t always match when it comes to Britain’s self-perception versus its reality.

A Nation in Decline?

Peel doesn’t mince words. He paints a stark picture of a nation grappling with incompetent politicians,crumbling infrastructure, and a public healthcare system (the NHS) teetering on the brink. It’s a far cry from the image many Britons hold dear – that of a proud and globally influential nation.

He’s right, you know – at least about the speed of it all. From an outsider’s perspective, the shift has been noticeable. It’s like watching a friend go through a messy break-up – you can see the warning signs, the slow build-up of resentment and frustration, but they’re too caught up in the thick of it to notice… until it all explodes. That’s what it feels like, witnessing Britain’s current predicament.

However, while Peel’s decade away from Britain grants him a certain objectivity, I can’t help but feel that his analysis, at times, still betrays a hint of that particularly British brand of exceptionalism. It’s as if he’s trying to shake his compatriots awake, to say, “Look, we’re not as special as we think we are!” But the very act of saying it suggests a lingering belief that perhaps, deep down, Britain still holds a unique place in the world.

Across the Channel, a Different Tune

My own experiences straddling both British and French cultures have provided ample fodder for reflection. The French, as we all know, have a certain je ne sais quoi about them. Whether it’s their appreciation for a long, leisurely meal or their refreshingly frank discussions about, well, pretty much everything – sex, death, you name it – the French seem to approach life with a candor that can be both refreshing and, at times, disconcerting. And don’t even get me started on their penchant for complaining – it’s practically a national sport!

Yet beneath the stereotypes lies a certain self-awareness, a willingness to acknowledge both the good and the bad. Leaving France, my home country, allowed me to see it with fresh eyes, to appreciate its quirks and contradictions with a newfound clarity. It’s a perspective I imagine many expats share – that sense of being both insider and outsider, of belonging and yet observing from a slight remove.

Britain, Through the Looking Glass

This brings us back to Peel’s central thesis: Britain’s self-delusion. According to Peel, Britain clings to an outdated image of itself – that of a former imperial powerhouse, the lone victor against Nazi Germany, a plucky island nation punching above its weight. This self-perception, he argues, prevents Britain from confronting its present-day realities.

The examples he provides are telling. Take, for instance, the myth of British stoicism during the Blitz. While the resilience of the British people during World War II is undeniable, Peel argues that this narrative often overlooks the profound psychological toll of the conflict. It’s as if, in glorifying the past, Britain has airbrushed the less palatable aspects of its history.

Then there’s the enduring reverence for Winston Churchill. While Churchill’s wartime leadership was undoubtedly crucial, Peel reminds us that the man was far from perfect. His views on race and empire, considered progressive in his time, now strike a discordant note, to say the least. Yet, in the popular imagination, Churchill remains largely unexamined, a symbol of British grit and determination rather than a complex figure with a flawed legacy.

This disconnect between perception and reality extends beyond historical narratives. Peel highlights a range of contemporary issues where public misperceptions reign supreme – from the size and influence of the Muslim population to the perceived burdens of EU membership and the supposed evils of foreign investment. In each case, he argues, fear and nostalgia have clouded rational judgment, leading to decisions and policies that are ultimately detrimental to Britain’s interests.

The Brexit Earthquake

For Peel, the 2016 Brexit referendum wasn’t just a political earthquake; it was a moment of reckoning, exposing the fault lines within British society. He argues that the Brexit campaign, with its promises of “taking back control” and restoring Britain to its former glory, expertly exploited these pre-existing delusions. It offered a simplistic narrative—blaming the EU for all of Britain’s woes—that resonated with a public yearning for a bygone era.

The reality, as Peel points out with almost painful clarity, is that Brexit has done little to address the very issues it promised to solve. Instead, it has exacerbated them, leading to economic uncertainty, labor shortages, and a weakened creative industry. The much-touted trade deals have failed to materialize in any significant way, leaving many businesses and individuals worse off than before.

And yet, the denial continues. Peel argues that the refusal to acknowledge the negative consequences of Brexit prevents Britain from moving forward. It’s like a patient refusing to acknowledge a serious illness – until they do, there’s no hope for recovery.

Before the Storm, a Gathering Wind?

While Peel’s analysis is sharp and often insightful, I find myself questioning the neatness of his timeline. Was Brexit truly the catalyst for all of Britain’s current woes, or were these problems simmering beneath the surface long before the referendum?

I’m reminded of a line from the British comedian Peter Cook, who quipped back in the 1960s, “I’ve got this terrible pain in my side, like someone’s trying to pull Britain out of the Common Market.” Even back then, the seeds of discontent were being sown, the anxieties about Britain’s place in the world already taking root.

Perhaps, then, Brexit wasn’t the root cause, but rather a symptom of a deeper malaise. The loss of empire, the decline of manufacturing, the rise of globalization – all of these factors contributed to a sense of unease, a feeling that Britain was adrift in a rapidly changing world. Brexit, in this sense, was merely the most visible manifestation of these underlying anxieties. It was the moment the dam broke, but the cracks had been forming for decades.

Looking back, it’s easy to see the signs, the gradual erosion of that once-unshakeable British confidence. Don’t get me wrong, the problems Peel describes are real, and they’ve undoubtedly been amplified in recent years. But to an outsider like me, it often feels less like a sudden collapse and more like a slow, steady decline – a case of the boiling frog, perhaps?