True, violent riots also took place in Belfast, Northern Ireland, but, interestingly enough, even there they were largely perpetrated by British loyalists, along with a few far-right extremists from Dublin. The counter-protestors were seemingly mostly drawn from Northern Ireland’s Catholic community.

At least up until now, Scotland and Wales have remained peaceful. When considering why this is the case, we might look at how the English are positioned within the United Kingdom.

The union itself has been, first and foremost, an English product. It was the English crown which extended its power first over the British Isles and then over a great part of the world. The Acts of Union in 1707 between England and Scotland led to the creation of Great Britain. The English and Welsh crowns had been “united” much earlier in 1284 under the auspices of the former and, after the partition of Ireland, Northern Ireland joined the Union in 1922.

While the Scottish, Welsh and Irish played substantial roles in managing the British empire, the English were its primary driving force. This means that the reduction of Britain’s role in the world in the wake of the break up of the British empire has arguably been felt more keenly by the English.

A 2018 YouGov survey showed that almost three times as many residents in England thought the country’s best years were in the past than in its future. In Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland, by contrast, many more people think “their country’s best years lie ahead rather than behind them”.

A “nostalgic yearning” for the lost imperial power is part and parcel of this nostalgic English national imaginary. This helps explain why protesters and rioters have been chanting Rule Britannia.

Rule Britannia was written and set to music in England in 1740 and soon came to be associated with British imperial power. It is still sung at the Last Night of the Proms and by English sports fans, once again demonstrating the extent to which England and Britain are conflated by the English.

If the loss of empire and perceived global standing is one aspect of English melancholia, then changing relations within the United Kingdom itself are another. Many English people continue to treat “British” and “English” as interchangeable labels. When asked, they find it difficult to differentiate between the two.

In the same 2018 YouGov survey, 80% of the residents of England identified strongly as English, but 82% also strongly identified as British, pointing to how “British and English identities are intertwined”. The 2021 census data shows that in England, 14.9% identified as English only with 54.8% as British only. In Scotland the equivalent figures were 56% (Scottish only) and 15% (British only) and in Wales 55.2% (Welsh only) and 18.5% (British only)

The fact that England has not been part of the devolution process has added to this confusion – and to the sense of grievance among the English. Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland all have their own national government and assemblies, but there is no separate administration that deals with purely English affairs.

This not only reinforces the idea that English and British are one and the same, but also feeds resentment among the English, who see the people in other parts of the UK getting their own representation. This is particularly the case for English people who live geographically and culturally far from London, the seat of power in the UK.

This also helps explaining why Brexit, with its ambition “to take back control” was mainly supported by English voters rather than those in other parts of the UK.

The same 2018 YouGov survey also reveals how the English nation is mainly perceived by its members as a white nation. Only one-third of respondents said their “country’s diversity is an important part of their identity”.

Anti-immigration sentiments are certainly not confined to England. The opposition between “natives” and “foreigners” are very much at the root of any national thinking. So it’s possible that anti-immigration protests might flare up elsewhere in the UK. However, both Scotland and Wales have been able to provide more progressive and inclusive narratives of nation that not only acknowledge ethnic diversity but are articulated in opposition to the dominant English.

It therefore seems plausible to suggest that the anomaly of the English – a powerful majority which often perceives itself as overlooked and ignored among the British nations – might play a role in explaining the current wave of protests and riots.

During the last two Euro football championships, hopes for a new England, progressive, inclusive and forward looking, seemed to emerge. The present violent protests have significantly tainted those hopes. But simply pointing a finger at far-right thugs, as the government has done, treating the unrest as mere criminal incidents, doesn’t really get to the heart of the issue. Although far-right extremists took centre stage, just behind them were standing many ordinary English people, men and women, some with children, who presumably shared the same views and feelings.

Although only 8% of Britons said in a recent YouGov poll that they sympathised with the rioters, 58% expressed sympathies with those who protested peacefully .

After all the mess has been cleared from the streets, it would be advisable for the government and society as a whole, to have a debate about what “England” and “Englishness” stand for in a Union profoundly divided by rising nationalism and in a world where Britannia no longer rules the waves.

Marco Antonsich is reader in political geography at Loughborough University and Michael Skey is lecturer in media and communications, Loughborough University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article