Brexit, Moral Injury & Resistance
They didn’t even let us know what was happening out there. They always acted as if it were some sacred rite, some abstract science that we wouldn’t understand anything about anyway. They only wanted to make sure no one saw through their game. And then they lost everything, including us and our future. [1]
In the years following the 2016 EU Referendum, the term “Brexit anxiety” has come to characterise the feelings of many of those who voted to remain, and especially those from other EU countries living in the UK (who had no vote) as well as UK citizens currently living in other EU countries. Whilst there are very real practical implications for the latter two groups of people, more than enough to cause anxiety, for many UK citizens the anxiety is caused by a tension between their own personal self-understanding and values and that proclaimed by the nation of which they are a part.
This tension is perhaps epitomised in Prime Minister Theresa May’s response to those she termed “citizens of everywhere”:
“But, if you believe you are a citizen of the world, you are a citizen of nowhere. You don’t understand what citizenship means.” [2]
Commentators were quick to point out the parallels between May’s rhetoric and that of Adolf Hitler in 1933, when, in a speech to Siemens factory workers he spoke in scarcely veiled terms of the so-called international Jewish conspiracy:
The struggle between the people and the hatred amongst them is being nurtured by very specific interested parties. It is a small, rootless, international clique that is turning the people against each other, that does not want them to have peace …It is the people who are at home both nowhere and everywhere, who do not have anywhere a soil on which they have grown up, but who live in Berlin today, in Brussels tomorrow, Paris the day after that, and then again in Prague or Vienna or London, and who feel at home everywhere. … They are the only ones who can be addressed as international, because they conduct their business everywhere, but the people cannot follow them. [3]
One of the great benefits of the European Union is the cultivation of a sense of European identity, transcending national boundaries, and it is that European identity which the UK’s departure from the EU threatens to take away. For many of us, this is a profoundly unsettling state of affairs.
But it goes further than that. As UK citizens we are inevitably and unavoidably implicated in what the nation’s leaders say and do, and this causes a sense of cognitive dissonance, where our leaders are saying and doing things (in “our” name) with which we fundamentally disagree, and which in many cases (treatment of migrants, attitude towards the EU in Brexit negotiations) we believe to be ethically wrong.
It is as if the very identity of the UK is being reconstructed before our eyes as a meaner, more inward-looking nation, focused on past glory and seemingly uninterested in future co-operation unless it is on our own terms.
I would suggest that an apposite term to describe this experience is “moral injury”.
What is Moral Injury ?
The term “moral injury” is a fairly recent one, the concept being developed by psychiatrists through interviews with military veterans during the 1990s, and is used primarily in a military context to describe the traumatic effects on combatants of acts in warfare, in which they are implicated either directly or indirectly, and which go contrary to their personal moral or spiritual beliefs.
“Moral injury” is different from PTSD in that it specifically describes the effects of a personal violation of the individual’s conscience by things that they have seen or actions they have performed.
As one definition puts it:
Moral injury is the damage done to one’s conscience or moral compass when that person perpetrates, witnesses, or fails to prevent acts that transgress one’s own moral beliefs, values, or ethical codes of conduct. [4]
That damage can indeed be psychological or spiritual as another definition points out:
We define “moral injury” very simply: moral injury is debilitating psychological or spiritual damage resulting from transgression of deeply held moral beliefs and expectations. [5]
Therefore,
… the key precondition for moral injury is an act of transgression, which shatters moral and ethical expectations that are rooted in religious or spiritual beliefs, or culture-based, organizational, and group-based rules about fairness, the value of life, and so forth. [6]
Finally, other definitions use the word “betrayal”:
First, there must be a betrayal of what is morally correct. Second, someone who is in a legitimate position of authority must do the betrayal of what is morally correct. Third, the betrayal must occur in a high stakes situation. [7]
Moral Injury & Brexit
To my knowledge the term ”moral injury” has not yet been used to describe reactions to the 2016 EU referendum and its aftermath. Furthermore, I don’t believe that to do so denies either the uniqueness of the military experience nor the intense suffering of those in the military who have experienced it.
However, I do believe that the term is relevant in the context of the aftermath of the 2016 referendum. For many people there has indeed, and continues to be, a transgression of deeply held moral beliefs and expectations by those in authority both in their words and actions. Furthermore, those words are said, and those actions committed, in “our” name.
Writing of the USA under Donald Trump, US ethicist James Childs has recently suggested that the term “moral injury” might be applied to nations. He cites the C20 protestant theologian Paul Tillich who wrote of the symbolic function of government, or as he terms it, “the ruling minority”:
Every member of the group sees in members of the ruling minority the incarnation of those ideals which [he or she] affirms when [he or she] affirms the group to which [he or she] belongs … Therefore every ruling minority preserves and presents and propagates those symbols in which the spirit of the group is expressed. [8]
In other words, government is seen as embodying and promoting the self-image of the nation.
Of course, there are times in everyone’s lives when the “other side” are in power, but in a functioning democracy, a reversal of fortunes is potentially only ever an election away. However, President Trump and all he stands for, and Brexit and all that stands for, would seem to be of a different order. Childs speaks of shame:
… I would suggest, therefore, that we can as a national community feel a deep sense of shame for being part of something that is not us; we can lose our soul. This state of affairs is more radically problematic even than feeling guilty over the failures of justice in our public life. Shame is a deep sense of having lost or losing the spiritual core of those symbols that define our national identity and in which we take both pride and refuge. [9]
These words echo the feelings of many in the UK in reaction to the 2016 referendum and all that followed.
For many people the loss of their EU citizenship, and the European identity that comes with it, is in itself enough to cause moral injury. But if indeed, Tillich’s” ruling minority” are symbols of the nation’s self-image, then it is no wonder that many are morally injured.
Rhetoric which constantly exalts “us” above “them”, which dismisses co-operation in favour of competition, which shows disdain for immigrants and refugees. Policies which seek to legitimate prejudice and inequality. All these compound the moral injury.
Identity and the Nation State
Unlike most other human communities, one’s membership in a nation state is rarely a choice and is not easily laid aside. By contrast, most other communities are joined by choice and can be left at will. So there is unlikely to be the degree of cognitive dissonance between its members and the church or society or company to which they belong. In such circumstances one would simply renounce one’s membership and join another. This, however, is not for most of us an option when it comes to nation states.
Yet, the nation state to which we (willingly or unwillingly) belong is inevitably a source of identity. It is a source of identity in the straightforward sense that it is inscribed on our passport and is the nationality by which we are known. It is a source of identity in a more complex sense in that its citizens look to Tillich’s “ruling minority” to embody and articulate their values and priorities. It is a source of shared identity, too, in the sense that we form a community with our fellow citizens, though this latter dimension is relativized for many by online communication and easier travel, resulting in a larger, more inclusive, international community.
What exactly constitutes national identity is very difficult to pin down. Symbols such as flag, national anthem, currency, head of state, buildings, institutions are seen by many as embodying their national identity, though much the same could equally well be said for their various EU equivalents as embodying European identity. For others it is about a set of values, though the set of values often referred to as “British values” bears an uncanny resemblance to simple human values, as can be seen from this list promoted by OFSTED in 2015:
- democracy
- the rule of law
- individual liberty
- mutual respect for and tolerance of those with different faiths and beliefs and for those without faith.[10]
For others, national identity is rooted in shared culture. Recent defences of the value of the BBC have referred to its role in what is sometimes described as the “national conversation”, reflecting the nation’s people and their concerns. Although, again much the same could be said about the value of pan-European broadcasting and other media in nurturing European identity.
I would, therefore, suggest that national identity is much more fragile than some would like to think. Indeed, this may be at least part of the reason for the shrill populist nationalism of the past few years.
But what if national identity is severely, perhaps fatally, broken ? What if the “ruling minority” no longer embody our values and priorities ? What if our sense of community with our fellow citizens is severely fractured ? When national identity is projected in the language of exclusion, or of long gone empire or long past military victories, where is the option to opt out and say “Not in my name” ?
This is the situation in which I believe that it is possible, and indeed helpful, to speak of “moral injury”.
Learning from the Past
By itself, to suggest that those of us who believe in the European project, and the UK’s part in it, are suffering from “moral injury” in the aftermath of the 2016 referendum risks the accusation of self-indulgence when others around us are suffering the practical effects of the last four years’ rhetoric, and in the military yet others are suffering from “real” moral injury.
However, if recognition that we are indeed suffering from “moral injury” can lead beyond paralysis to action and resistance, then I believe the diagnosis is worthwhile.
Over the last few years, a number of commentators have made comparisons between what is happening in the UK and the rise of the Nazis in the 1920s and 1930s. This is not to compare the Conservative party with the Nazis, but the parallels are there and are instructive.
Firstly, it is widely acknowledged that a divided left in the 1920s allowed the Nazis to come to power, taking advantage as they did of those who felt the nation’s post WW1 leadership had betrayed it, and scapegoating Jews for the nation’s problems and difficulties. [11]
Secondly, the opposition to the Nazis, active, committed and more numerous than often thought as it was, never quite managed to succeed in its aims of toppling Hitler and regaining control of the nation. As Count Helmuth von Moltke, leader of the Kreisau Circle wrote in February 1942:
A remarkable paralysis of the will seems to have affected everybody again and instead of the “it’s too early” that I heard again and again before Christmas, I am now told that it is “too late”. It is sad to see how correct Peter [Yorck] and I were in diagnosing 18 December 1941 as “the right date”. [12]
A parliamentary opposition that was divided and a wider opposition that never quite agreed on a time to act meant that by 1942 the Nazis had a seemingly firm grip on power.
As Moltke wrote in January 1941:
It is not exaggeration to say that everything that ought to be absolute has become relative. As a result things like the state, race and power which are entirely lacking in absolute value, have become absolute. [13]
Yet even as he wrote that, Moltke was involved with others in discussing the shape of post-Nazi Germany. For them it would have been part of a federal Europe, albeit one further advanced in integration that the EU is even now. Although neither Moltke himself nor many of his contemporaries, were to survive the war, they continued to resist.
On November 14 1944 he wrote from Tegel prison to his wife Freya:
What catastrophes there must be before this mentality is eradicated. [14]
Within 10 weeks of writing that von Moltke had been executed, but within six months of writing it Hitler was dead and the Nazi regime ended.
So, in our very different situation, where thankfully our lives are not under threat nor our ideas illegal, I would suggest that we too can resist.
Resistance
We can resist in at least two ways.
We can refuse to allow our identities to be defined by the nation state. Although it is not often proclaimed in our world of national churches, Christian faith radically relativises national identity. The writer to the Philippians’ claim that “our citizenship is in heaven”[15] can be read as a pious longing for the afterlife, but it can also be read as an undermining of the nation state’s claim to final allegiance.
The first Christians were distinguished by their refusal to take the oath of allegiance to Caesar and it was not until the church was co-opted by the state by the emperor Constantine that church and state began to be seen as partners rather than rivals for ultimate allegiance.
So the first act of resistance is a personal one. In acknowledging that we are citizens of God’s world we burst the confines of petty nationalism and join our efforts with all those the world over who seek justice, peace and human flourishing, who commit themselves to a global perspective where the planet is cherished and competition between nations becomes co-operation for the good of all.
Reading novels and watching films from non-English speaking nations and cultures, turning to sources outside the UK for at least some of our news and current affairs, listening to music from around the world, cultivating pan-European friendships, all these can open us up to an international perspective on the world.
The second act of resistance is a public one.
What shape it will take will depend on different people. For some it might involve simply wearing a badge or some other symbol to indicate that they continue to welcome those from other nations and cultures into the national conversation and reject exclusion and nationalist rhetoric. For others it may mean getting involved in campaigns or protests against unjust and exclusive government policies, or joining organisations committed to an open future.
Many of those who took part in the various pro-EU marches over the past four years (often the first marches they had ever been part of) will attest to how important they were in maintaining hope, defeating feelings of impotence, and creating a sense of community with others of a common mind.
Beyond Moral Injury
Moral injury is caused by a feeling of impotence in face of actions and rhetoric which claim to be in our name but fundamentally cut across cherished beliefs and ethical principles. That impotence can be paralysing, but it need not be so. As individuals and as a community of resistance we are so much more than a nation state, and both personally and publicly we can continue to affirm that this is so.
Can you imagine what it means to work as a group when you cannot use the telephone, when you are unable to post letters, when you cannot tell the names of your closest friends for fear that one of them might be caught and might divulge the names under pressure ? … Happily I have been able to follow the activities of my English friends, and I hope that they all keep their spirits up. [16]
[1] Alfred Doblin, November 1918: A German Revolution – Volume One: A People Betrayed (Fromm International Publishing Corporation, 1983), p. 10
[2] https://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/politics/theresa-may-mein-kampf-adolf-hitler-nazi-vince-cable-liberal-democrat-conservatives-a7825381.html
[3] http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/worldwars/genocide/hitler_audio.shtml#one
[4] http://moralinjuryproject.syr.edu/about-moral-injury/
[5] Brad Allenby and Tom Frame, “Moral Injury” in Moral Injury: Towards an International Perspective (Center on the Future of War, Arizona State University, 2017)
[6] https://www.ptsd.va.gov/professional/treat/cooccurring/moral_injury.asp
[7] Jonathan Shay, “Casualties”, Daedelus 140(3), 179-88.
[8] Paul Tillich, Love, power, and justice: Ontological analysis and ethics (Oxford University Press, 1954) Cited by James Childs, “Can a nation suffer moral injury ?” (Dialog 58: 1, Spring 2019), p. 3
[9] Childs, p. 5
[10] http://www.doingsmsc.org.uk/british-values/
See also:
https://www.thersa.org/discover/publications-and-articles/rsa-blogs/2017/08/teaching-british-values-in-schools#
https://www.theguardian.com/education/2014/jul/01/gove-what-is-so-british-your-british-values
[11] https://www.newstatesman.com/world/europe/2018/10/how-left-enabled-fascism
See also:
https://www.prospectmagazine.co.uk/magazine/britain-proroguing-boris-johnson-parliament-suspension-richard-evans-weimar
https://www.spiegel.de/international/germany/how-the-nazis-succeeded-in-taking-power-in-red-berlin-a-866793.html
[12] Ger van Roon, German Resistance to Hitler: Count von Moltke and the Kreisau Circle (Translated by Peter Ludlow) Van Nostrand Reinhold Company, 1971), p. 170
[13] Van Roon, p 63
[14] Freya & Helmuth James von Moltke, Last Letters (NYRB, 2019), p. 119
[15] Phillipians 3: 20 NRSV
[16] Letter of Helmuth von Moltke to Lionel Curtis, 1942, in van Roon, p. 377