Rafe Fletcher is the founder of CWG.
My memories of Japan are coloured by British triumphalism. In 2019, I was in Oita to see England thrash Australia in the Rugby World Cup. And last November, I saw Oasis play to a sell-out crowd in Tokyo.
Touring acts are more welcome than those putting down permanent roots. Japan’s foreign resident population is growing and, at four million, now constitutes around three percent of the population. They are readily identifiable in such an ethnically homogeneous country.
Japan’s new Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi, who models herself on Britain’s own Iron Lady, won a landslide victory last month. She is pro-market and firm on immigration. But, as yet, her latter stance is heavier on rhetoric than policy. Because Japan is in a precarious position. How does it balance public demand to retain a clear national identity with the structural challenges of the world’s oldest population? Barring a sudden reproductive resurgence or a robotics revolution, foreign workers have to fix lopsided demographics.
Japan is an outlier because national identity is so intertwined with ethnicity. But the subject is nonetheless getting a bit more mainstream in Britain. Elon Musk recently swung behind Rupert Lowe’s splinter group Restore, because it takes predictions of a white British minority seriously. Nigel Farage’s caution about who that conversation encourages seemingly lost him the prospect of Musk’s backing.
Polite conversation avoids the topic because Britain’s demographic transformation was unplanned.
In 1945, Britain was almost as ethnically uniform as contemporary Japan. Politicians did not anticipate that post-war immigration from the Caribbean and South Asia would change that. It was then imagined as a temporary response to acute labour shortages. In 1956, debates in the House of Lords still referred to Commonwealth arrivals as “visitors”. The historian Colin Holmes notes that migrants largely shared that impression, writing in John Bull’s Island that they viewed themselves as “temporary labourers or sojourners…hoping to return home with needed capital.”
Social change was an unintended consequence of addressing economic needs. That does not make it inherently good or bad. But it suggests the country never really confronted what British identity meant once it could no longer be assumed. The familiarity of language and looks is easier to grasp than values when it comes to creating a sense of belonging.
That search for shared values is made harder by what Suella Braverman condemns as the “casual, anything-goes approach to culture and identity”. Nebulous catch-all appeals to “tolerance”, or worse, “diversity”, are flimsily ascribed as defining national characteristics. It lacks any active sense of participation. It undervalues Britain by negating any real commitment to it.
It’s here, of course, that I must go back to Asia to suggest a different way of doing things. In Singapore, my immigration status is made very apparent. There is little sensitivity in designating Employment Pass (EP) holders like me as “foreigner” in official correspondence. Singapore’s foreign population is substantial – constituting almost two million of its six million population – but clearly delineated. We are not part of the civic realm and have no access to state-funded services.
There is a route to deeper integration through Permanent Residency (PR). But there are strict qualifying criteria and even successful applicants do not gain permanent rights. PR holders must renew their status every five years. It can be revoked for criminal misconduct or a deemed lack of economic contribution. Increased civic status also comes with accompanying responsibilities. Most notably, your male offspring will be subject to compulsory National Service at 18.
Every year, around 25,000 PRs go one step further and obtain citizenship. There is no explicitly ethnic aspect to this. But it’s generally recognised that it follows founding Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew’s strategy of pursuing a certain demographic equilibrium. He pledged that Singapore would always be majority Chinese with smaller Malay and Indian minorities. New citizenships broadly preserve that balance.
Speaking at Imperial College in 2002, Lee argued that Britain’s lack of similar micromanagement breeds an ailing society. He said that importing workers without any plan for uniting races or cultures led to ghettoisation. Something that was evident only last week as the Greens won in Gorton and Denton by appealing to extranational affiliations in the Middle East.
But such technocratic planning is not possible in Britain. The Home Secretary Shabana Mahmood revealed in November that the previous government’s attempt to fill between 6,000 and 40,000 jobs in the health and care sector led to the arrival of 616,000 individuals between 2022 and 2024. If Britain is overshooting those targets by 1,400 percent, it is unlikely to fare too well with strategically planned quotas.
The more pertinent lesson lies in what Lee observes Britain has lost since 1945: “that quiet pride and self-confidence, that national cohesiveness that marked out the British people after victory in World War Two.”
It stems from insecurity in what being British really means. It is no longer something simply inherited nor is it anything easily articulated. Restoring confidence instead requires a sense of reciprocity. Singapore does this well in its prohibition of dual citizenship and enforcement of National Service. It forces citizens to actively participate and forego any other national loyalties.
Britain, by contrast, asks very little of its people. Even though it’s to my advantage, I’m always astonished at the treatment of Brits abroad. As Dubai expats discover now, we retain full access to state services without any of the onerous tax implications. Similarly, it allows its passport to be part of an international portfolio – somewhere to hedge your bets rather than commit.
And it offers few binding experiences to really bring an increasingly diverse population together. Unfortunately it came towards the back end of his premiership but a similar national service scheme was one of Sunak’s brighter ideas, particularly when university increasingly looks an imprudent bet.
Britain needs a more muscular vision of identity rooted in commitment. Pride cannot reside only in the vestiges of cultural triumphs abroad. It must inspire loyalty at home too.
