Why the Scottish Tourist Board should thank David Starkey

And that’s the way it should be, according to Henry VIII historian and professional controversialist David Starkey, who ruffled some feathers on that day's Question Time when he lambasted the “romantic 19th century nationalism” of the Welsh and the Scots. English restraint was instead testament to the country’s greatness:

If we decide to go down this route of an English National Day it will mean that we’ve become a feeble, little country, just like the Scots, Welsh and Irish. We don’t make a great fuss about Shakespeare like the Scots do about that deeply boring provincial poet Burns.

Of course, Starkey failed to note that unease about English nationalism’s association with far-right politics (underlined when a BNP London Assembly member claimed credit for Boris Johnson’s St. George's Day plans) may have curbed enthusiasm for celebration. And with the government still seeking to promote Britishness over Englishness, but apparently unsure of what actually constitutes Britishness, it’s no wonder that there was little appetite for patriotic revelry.

Still, the outburst prompted predictable howls of protest from Welsh and Scottish politicians, including one member of Plaid Cymru who reminded Starkey that the Tudors, his pet obsession, were of course Welsh. The BBC also received just over 70 complaints, which suggests the public at large weren’t inordinately riled.

Yet no one pointed out to Starkey the real significance of national holidays to the “Celtic” nations. It’s not just about petty patriotism, or even an excuse for a mass piss-up. It’s about combining the two, and raking in the cash at the same time—even in these straightened times, the nationalism cash cow isn’t showing any signs of running dry. Scotland’s ongoing Homecoming festival (which will feature Highland games outside Holyrood parliament and a month of whisky drinking) is expected to bring in over £40m in revenue. The Scottish assembly hope the initiative will “energise and mobilise the Scottish diaspora”—presumably to dig deep into its pockets.



Meanwhile, St. Patrick’s day celebrations in Dublin bring in over £50m in revenue each year. Its importance to the crippled Irish economy was evident in prime minister Brian Cowen's rather pathetic admittance that he was relying on St, Patrick’s day to reassure markets and boost the country’s tarnished international image. For these “little countries,” the national holidays mean big bucks.

Perhaps predictably, it is the Americans who have exploited their Celtic connections most brazenly. Americans spend over $4bn on St. Patrick’s day, and Guinness, that most zealously patriotic of companies, has convinced over 400,000 people to sign their petition to have 17th March made a national holiday in the US. Michael Bloomberg, mayor of New York City, best summed up American enthusiasm for St. Paddy:

As I said to some Irish people this morning, 'Spend your money!' I hate to bring up capitalism, but all of these events are great for New York.

Spoken like a true patriot. Indeed, if anything, the Irish, Welsh and Americans may regret that Starkey’s comments didn’t come a few months earlier. Nothing boosts patriotic fervour, and the spending that goes with it, like the condescension of a snooty Englishman. The organisers of Scotland’s Homecoming may yet find themselves raising a dram in Starkey’s honour.