Author: Dinah Kolka
‘The origins of English kingship, the very idea of English nationhood, the rule of law, English law generally, education, spirituality, notions of ethics, charity, tolerance and public duty, all have their roots in Christian doctrine, and English culture – the arts, landscape, language, literature, music, social life would be unrecognisable without the Christian leaven.’
In God Is an Englishman, Bijan Omrani attempts something not many authors have done before — he traces the soul of a nation not through conquest or class, but through its spiritual rituals, its cathedrals, its psalms.
I don’t have many stakes in this book. Despite my flirtation with religion, I have a difficult time accepting the concept of Protestantism, having been brought up as a Jehovah’s Witness. The similarities are profound. Having attended a Catholic mass, however, I was immediately allured by the ritual, the candles, and the genuine sense of the transcendental. It was almost as if the religion of my forefathers was calling me in, urging me to partake in the same rituals my grandparents and great-grandparents did. I often struggled to reconcile my Polishness with my desire to fully assimilate in the UK. Shapeshifting my way through it, I found myself attaching to British secularism as if it were my life raft. And yet, when I finally accepted my difference and my own otherness, it was at that point that I understood the value of the societal cohesion and the overarching narrative of shared religion. Because despite being hundreds of miles away from my motherland, I instinctively felt at home in the Catholic Church.
I say, I have no stakes in this book; however, after consideration, I share in the same aches Omrani describes. I still wander, spiritually homeless (old habits die hard), but this touches on the key point Omrani has brought up in his book – the rituals and the traditions that built the nation are the basis for a healthy national identity that creates social cohesion and a sense of community.
Omrani’s case in comprehensive. He walks us through art, literature, community, music, and even time, chapter by chapter, gently unveiling the sheer impact early Christianity had on English identity. And this displays his real skill which, like Tyndale’s prose, aimed to ‘be understood as much by the ploughboy as by the learned cleric’. Omrani never obfuscates his language; rather, he writes in an easy-to-understand style that is clear, gripping, and concise:
‘Instead of poverty and wretched desolation, they could see that Thanet was a bustling, energetic place, full of noise and activity. Smoke rose from the fires of kilns, and bales of wool were hauled along the streets. There was the clatter of loom weights, the cry of hunting dogs, the shouting and chatter of sailors and merchants.’
Some of his descriptions are so well placed and brilliant that you immediately feel transported into a different era. At the same time, there is no speculation or conjecture — he lets the facts speak for themselves, never forcing opinions or coming across as overtly superior. For the tone of the book is one of restrained reverence, never preaching, never sentimental, but always anchored in a deep affection for what has been lost. Structured thematically, it goes into great detail the various disciplines influenced by Christianity, with rigorous research to back it up.
This leads to a truly pleasant and fascinating journey through the ages from the first encounters of Christians in England, through to the development of charity in the Victorian era, all the way to commentary on tearing down the Christian values in England today. This begins with such small details as the fact that Roman Christianity unified the warring tribes and aided the king to become God-anointed, solidifying his claim to the throne.
If then, by the end of this book, there remain stones unturned then they are likely immovable, for Omrani quotes aptly from sources as wide as religious thinkers and old newspaper clippings. He quotes the Bible with the same felicity as he does Milton. He brings up details of pre-Raphaelite paintings while describing the ins and outs of the development of the choir.
There were some spots in the structure, where sometimes in the middle of the book Omrani almost relaxes and brings up more anecdotes from his own life, his family heirlooms, his school, and his love for the school choir away from ‘Snoop Dogg’. This was admirable, and I wished it were more interwoven in the text. The chapters either started with a personal anecdote or a strong, historical opening – for example, a snail in the ginger beer bottle (for this reference alone, I urge you to buy the book). I’d like to see them more cohesively married. I also felt that covering slavery instead of missionaries was a disappointing choice – with the wealth of works currently touching on slavery, we’d benefit from learning more about religious missionaries instead, which is certainly a neglected territory.
One can’t help but walk away from reading it, realising how much we owe to Christianity and how truly does it sit in the very foundations of England. Examples being the origin of the 5th amendment or the non-confusing way of tracking time by simply dividing time into ‘BC’ and ‘AD’. We learn that it was Christianity that ensured that Celtic pagan worship sites were left intact, and had churches placed next to them. A fresh argument was seeing him explain to us at length why and how all the pagan days and festivals were adopted, with direct quotes from clergy at the time. We learn that practically the majority of Halloween rituals actually come from All Saints Day, and we suddenly feel the need to snuggle in warmer clothes when reading about Candlemas and imagining all the candle processions so unlikely to be seen these days. We essentially get a historical constellation, a map of all the veins and intellectual scaffolding through which the influences of Christianity flow.
And Omrani doesn’t shy away from touching on the recent problems of multiculturalism, sexual abuse among the clergy, and modernity as a whole. He openly suggests that it is through national cohesion that immigration would find itself easily assimilated, quoting polls, research, and quotes from the general public. He actively admits the problems with SA in the clergy, using the usual argument that, at the end of the day, the church is not infallible. While this point, I feel, could have been developed further and better addressed, it is nonetheless objectively true that the Church is made up of fallible people. He also states the problems associated with modernity – the church is not equipped to deal with the stark decline in interest in Christianity (this is also an argument that Omrani handles with skill – the interest in spirituality barely declined, people just look for it in different places). He brings up the epidemic of loneliness, and after reading about the many communal gatherings that offered a close-knit community to people, one can’t help but ponder where we went wrong.
That’s not all, though. We see a direct impact of the Reformation on the English peoples, many of their traits having developed during that time, when Puritanism ran rife. It’s hard not to feel a sense of loss when reading about the abundance of festivals, holy days, and enforced periods of rest — all of which have long since been stripped away in favour of a culture that prizes productivity above reflection.
Bijan Omrani set out to prove that Christianity was fundamental to the development of England and that it still has value in today’s society. We might think that there is nothing new to learn about English identity. Yet the arguments on this issue are endless. People tend to fall into extremes of believing that British history was drenched in blood and conquest. Others are convinced that the English are the god-chosen people and essentially a new Jerusalem. But Omrani cuts right through it with clear-eyed objectivity and a genuine sense of affection for the land of the Angles. Reading this, I thought back to 13 years ago when I first moved to England and looked at the alien stones of Avebury, and found myself lost, feeling neither exactly at ease among my own people, and not ready yet to feel at one with the Angles. I never realised that what I needed was acceptance and just a healthy dose of national pride; the kind that makes one feel, if only for a moment, that God might indeed be an Englishman.
God is an Englishman: Christianity and the creation of England by Bijan Omrani is out now from Swift Press, priced at £25.
Dinah is the founder of Decadent Serpent and a graduate of Edinburgh Napier University with a BA(Hons) in English Literature. Her work has been featured in publications such as The Salisbury Review and The Mallard. She was also published in the Scottish Book Trust’s 2018 anthology Rebel. In 2023, Dinah self-published her own collection of short stories, The Search and Other Stories.
Discover more from Decadent Serpent
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
