Could Jews hold the secret to healing broken Britain?

Katwala is British, born in Doncaster. But he is also, as he puts it, “mixed”. His mother is Irish Catholic and his father Indian — a Hindu who converted, at least nominally, to Catholicism. For him, the word mixed is a “useful label”, but he does not confuse it with national identity.

Although his analysis of his own background and how Britain has become so much more relaxed about some aspects of all this (he cites a poll showing that only 3 per cent of people now think it is “very important” to be truly British) is itself fascinating, the real purpose of the book is the idea he posits that while the debates on immigration may rage, there is, in fact, a solution to the issue of identity that is compatible with any mainstream approach. That solution is patriotism.

The book is not primarily concerned with Jews — he focuses on more recent immigrant communities — but the resonances are striking.

His central idea will be very familiar to any Jewish reader — and it is certainly applicable to some of the issues around parts of the Charedi community that seem to extricate themselves from society and deny children a proper schooling.

Sunder Katwala headshot 3

Sunder Katwala (Photo: Handout)

Obvious as the glue of patriotism might seem to those of us who are used to a weekly synagogue prayer for the Royal Family, it’s still a remarkable contribution to the debate. Patriotism is often conflated with nationalism, and for many of those Katwala is seeking to bring with him, both are dirty words.

He acknowledges that a book on patriotism as the bedrock of identity is “counter zeitgeist”, but his argument is deeply persuasive.

That’s because he deals with reality rather than caricatures. For one thing, he manages genuinely to understand what underpins the different points of view on immigration and identity, from those who seem to relish the idea of a “them and us” debate to those who claim that any discussion of problems with immigration is racist, as well as the political and societal pushes that drive the debate.

Passionate about Everton, he draws clear and useful parallels with football: being an Evertonian “is a life-long allegiance that I certainly acquired by chance.

Being part of this footballing tribe taught me many different things about how identity works.”

The Hillsborough tragedy showed him the inclusive side of that: “It did not just change how I thought about Liverpool, and football, but gave me a new understanding about how identity works too. I was proud of how we mourned alongside our local rivals.”

But there was a darker side to that identity, too: “Everton are white” was a chant at his club’s stadium Goodison Park after Liverpool signed England’s black forward John Barnes in 1987. “That my Evertonian tribe had a racism problem became impossible to ignore.”

But football has changed — as has society. As he and many others have pointed out, the men and women’s England teams now bring us together where once the men’s team was the focus of a racial divide. That is patriotism.

For Jews, patriotism is ingrained. For many others it is second nature, too. But for those for whom patriotism is something to shun, Katwala makes a compelling case.

‘How to Be a Patriot: Why Love of Country Can End our Very British Culture War’ is published by Harper North