All these facts say little about the true age of a nation; the overall cultural identity as well as the many subcultures that coexist within, the mixtures of language and accent, the dress codes and traditions, go far deeper than a name or an act of parliament. Perhaps there is some way of calculating the age of a nation based on a system of points. You could count the percentage of the population whose ancestors lived in that county in each century; you could measure the continuity of governance, the age of local and national traditions, continuity of language, of laws and the average age of the buildings that still remain standing. It would be a highly convoluted process and probably impossible for even most obsessive statisticians. One thing that seems instinctively true in spite of all these complications is that Britain, as a country, is far older than America. Even if we go right back to the ancient indigenous settlements of America, they are much younger than the stone circles, the brochs, and the occasional prehistoric cave dwellings the island that was once called 'Albion'.
It strikes me that in some way our two nations could be considered to be a bit like two people, one young and one old. The older is perhaps wiser, more humble, a little less inclined to see the world in terms of black and white extremes. They are full of rich stories of the good old days and they have learned which rules are important and which are there for the breaking. However they can also be grumpy, cantankerous, unnecessarily negative, forgetful and disinclined to listen to the young. There are occasions when they wallow in self pity over past mistakes and become convinced that it’s too late to change the things that they don’t like about themselves.
The younger one is full of life and joy, full of hopes and aspirations, ready to go out into the world and impress everyone. The young one is often more optimistic and still believes that there are truths worth fighting for. But like any young person they are prone to mood swings, over simplification of issues and the inability to see things from another person's perspective; that can lead to unnecessary conflict. They become convinced of their own superiority in spite of their lack of experience and believe that the world revolves around them. And the confidence they have is just as quickly turned to paranoia because they have not lived through the ups and downs that their elders have seen.
As much as these caricatures are true, they are also false. We have seen evidence in America that supports both the negative and positives of this generalisation. But we have also seen things that go against the grain, like mature and wise Christians who are as distressed by fundamentalism as I am and people whose sense of hospitality feels like it is rooted in generations of people who were brought up to say welcome and to mean it. We have also seen things like the buildings of Duke University, which in their pretending to be old, display a kind of sentimentality that is entirely out of character with any teenager I know.
As I began writing these words I was sitting in a courtyard in New Orleans; a place that feels like an old man who has just remembered what it’s like to dance with a beautiful woman. It is both weary and joyous, both wise and foolish; a place that drinks without caring about the morning after, but understands the subtle complex rhythms of Jazz that cannot be known without a memory of many nights before. It has suffered devastation but is still filled with an abundance of hope.
America gave us the blues and film noir, Britain gave us ‘Carry on’ movies and Pantomimes. The British are not always the grownups so let’s just hope we learn the best of each other’s habits and not the worst.
You know you're in New Orleans When...
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| ...the baby Jesus has the best hat |
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