Ask Shrimsley: do I have to sing the national anthem?

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It rather depends where you are. At the state opening of parliament or a royal garden party, it can go down fairly well. Try it during rush hour on the Piccadilly Line, and you might find people edging away from you. Also, no one wants a colleague who hums it at work every couple of hours, not even if you work in the Household Cavalry.

This week’s question arises because of the declaration by Lee Carsley, the new England football manager, that he will not be singing the national anthem at the start of matches. Carsley’s explanation has nothing to do with the fact that he used to play for Ireland (where impromptu renditions of “God Save the King” are not common). Instead, he says he has never sung anthems because he is focused on the game and prefers to stand quietly.

Naturally, there are those for whom quiet respect is insufficient. They demand ostentatious displays of patriotism and are calling for him to be sacked, which he won’t be — at least until England lose.

The spat does, however, raise a more interesting question of when one has to subordinate personal feelings on this issue. Clearly, there are those who dislike the jingoism they feel is attached, or possess strong republican or anti-establishment views. It seems like their business to me.

One can argue that certain roles, such as leading the national team, require the subordination of one’s personal feelings. For the most part, standing respectfully is enough and certainly better than John Redwood’s efforts to mime along to the Welsh anthem, while not knowing the words. But had Carsley been told before stepping up to the role that singing the anthem was a requirement, does anyone think he would have refused the job?

The issue is further complicated by the fact that “God Save the King” is, obviously, one of the very worst national anthems in the world. It’s not the music, which is so good that the Americans have picked it up for one of their national tunes. The problem is the lyrics.

For a start, many of us don’t believe in God, and he turns out to be fairly central to the anthem. Second, the entire point of monarchy is that there is always a replacement on hand should the God we don’t believe in fail to save him. Even allowing for those who do believe in God and would like him to keep a half eye out for the boss, it is still a weak and repetitive national incantation: God save our king. No, really do save him, we’re not kidding here and, just to prove it, we’ll say it again.

The Americans have made a better job of anthemic lyrics. “My country ’tis of thee, sweet land of liberty” — now that sounds like a place worth singing about, even if the actual liberties include the freedom to buy guns with which to shoot your fellow citizens.

Generally in the UK, only the first verse is sung, but it does not radically improve if you go long. Aside from the unforgivable attempt to rhyme “arise” with “enemies”, there is still plenty of grovelling. We do ask God to make sure His Royal Highness defends our laws, but only after expressing the wish that “our choicest gifts in store, on him be pleased to pour”.

The latter verses improve slightly. There’s more about thrashing our enemies, followed by a desire to see all nations as brothers, which is nice, though mostly unsung. The final and never sung verse is a prayer for Field Marshal George Wade, you remember him, ahead of his battle with Bonnie Prince Charlie. “Lord grant that Marshal Wade, may by thy mighty aid, victory bring.” This last could surely be updated to something like, “Lord grant that Harry Kane, score from the spot again, not hit the bar.”

In fairness to Carsley, I doubt he has gone in for deep textual analysis, and perhaps he would be as silent in the face of “Jerusalem”, “I Vow to Thee, My Country”, “Land of Hope and Glory” (a bit Empire, I admit) or just a song that was slightly more aspirational for the entire country. The danger of opening this debate, of course, is that you get a new version written in Gail’s bakery over a croissant, which is perhaps the best case for “Jerusalem”.

I am digressing. In general, silent observance will do the job when the anthem is playing. But if you want to be prime minister, Archbishop of Canterbury or England football manager, it helps if people see your lips moving.

Email Robert at [email protected]

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