Compassionate Patriotism: Pride with a Caring Heart

Another England is a refreshing, uplifting and important book by England’s first Green MP (now resigned) Caroline Lucas, as a compassionate and alternative response to the hard-right taking over our country.

She writes that when politics becomes too soft on crime, lack of housing and immigration (all linked to our national problems), this gives a vacuum for bigoted politics to rear its ugly head, by those who lazily seek to blame all of society’s problems on others, rather than a lack of vision on the new compassionate society that’s possible, for all.

It’s interesting that Reform UK markets itself as ‘the party of patriotism’. But for what? A beautiful England is one of clean litter-free streets, local independent shops, local economies that protect homeless people, protecting native wildlife.

Yet its policies include zero-hour contracts (which leads to more homelessness, as there are no contracts to support rental or mortgage payments), stopping rewilding (which would lead to extinction of endangered creatures like hedgehogs and dormice – they are also ‘native to England’ – and have been around a lot longer than all of us).

Local independent shops are not deemed as important as sucking up to Trump. And the party accepts million pound donations from funders who don’t live here (nor pay tax to fund the NHS).

Just like Hamza Yassin recently wrote that he wished all children could name five trees (rather than five Kardashians), one wonders how many of the Reform MPs and would-be MPs could name our endangered species, coastal flowers, and have the scientific argument on why they believe climate change is not manmade (it is, ask any climate scientist that is not funded by the oil industry).

The Reform Party’s only interest does appear to be making the country as rich as quickly as possible. Reading the manifesto has made me believe they actually see the environment as an inconvenient obstacle one has to live with, and can profit from. Elizabeth Parry

What does it mean to love England without turning that love into a weapon? For many people, compassionate patriotism is the simplest answer: pride in where we live, matched by care for the people who share it with us.

That idea matters because life feels tight for a lot of households. Bills still bite, public services feel stretched, and arguments about identity can get nasty fast. When trust runs low, some people retreat into blame, while others switch off from anything that sounds like “patriotism”.

Compassionate patriotism in England

Compassionate patriotism is pride plus responsibility. It’s not about winning arguments, it’s about showing up. It says your love of England should improve life here, especially for people who feel ignored.

A simple line to keep in mind is this: love of country that shows up as care for neighbours.

That’s different from harsh nationalism, which often needs an enemy. It’s also different from empty flag waving, where the symbols are loud but the help is missing. In other words, it’s the difference between hanging bunting and checking on the neighbour who can’t manage the stairs this week.

If your pride doesn’t make you kinder, it isn’t doing much good.

What it is, pride that turns into practical care

At its best, compassionate patriotism in England looks like everyday decency with a backbone. It respects our shared story, our local places, and the institutions many people rely on, while still pushing for fairness when things aren’t working.

It often includes:

• Duty: doing your bit even when nobody claps.
• Fairness: wanting rules that work for ordinary people, not just the well connected.
• Belonging: making space for those who feel on the edge, including newcomers and long-settled communities alike.

You can see it in small choices. It’s picking the local butcher or greengrocer when you can, because high streets need more than nostalgia. It’s turning up for a park clean-up, because public spaces matter. It’s backing public services in a practical way, for example by joining a school fundraiser, giving blood, or helping a neighbour get to an appointment.

None of this needs a party badge. Values travel better than slogans.

Not scapegoating others for problems

Compassionate patriotism isn’t an “us versus them” story. When pride turns into suspicion, somebody always gets shoved out of the circle. Scapegoating might feel like strength, but it’s usually just frustration looking for a target.

It’s also not the softer trap of pretending everything is fine. Some people avoid tough topics because they worry it sounds disloyal. However, silence doesn’t fix anything.

Here are two quick contrasts:

• Scapegoating: “The country’s broken because of them.” This blames people you’ve never met.
• Honest pride: “The country’s struggling, so what can we change locally first?” This starts with action.

Likewise, waving away problems (poor housing, prejudice, or neglected towns) doesn’t protect England’s reputation. It just protects the status quo.

Local pride and looking out for each other.

England isn’t short on reasons for pride. We have strong local identities, a tradition of public service, and a stubborn habit of helping out when things go wrong. At the same time, we also have chapters that still hurt people today.

Compassionate patriotism doesn’t rewrite the past. It learns from it, then tries to behave better in the present. That’s a more grounded kind of love, like caring for an old house. You don’t pretend the damp isn’t there, you fix it because you want the place to last.

Traditions that teach community, fairness, service

A lot of compassionate patriotism in England is so normal that we forget it has a name. Think of village halls and community centres that run on volunteers. Think of mutual aid groups that appear when floods hit or when a family loses their home. Think of food banks, as proof we don’t let neighbours go hungry.

The NHS sits in this story too. People argue about funding and waiting lists, yet the basic idea still carries weight: care should be there when you need it. Remembrance can also reflect compassion when it comes with real support for veterans and their families, not just a poppy once a year.

You see the same spirit in smaller places: coaching kids’ football on a wet Saturday, checking in on an isolated neighbour, or organising a street litter pick. These aren’t grand gestures, but they hold communities together. England shares many of these values with the rest of the UK, yet the local flavour is clear in every town and parish.

Start local, care for the place you live

Start with your street, your estate, or your village. Local pride becomes healthier when it’s active.

• Volunteer once a month (a library group, community café, or youth club).
• Support a local shop or market stall when you can, even if it’s just one item.
• Join a litter pick, or simply take a bag on your own walk.
• Offer time, not only money, for example helping at a school event.
• Check on an older neighbour during cold snaps or heatwaves.
• Turn up to a local meeting when an issue affects your area (housing, buses, safety).
• Practise small courtesies on public transport, because tension spreads fast.

Talk about England with respect

England’s “culture war” rows often start with labels and end with people switching off. Better conversations are possible, but they need a different pace.

First, ask questions before you argue. Next, stick to what you know, and admit what you don’t. Also, share a personal story rather than a sweeping claim. Most importantly, look for shared goals, like safer streets, decent jobs, and good schools.

These phrases can lower the temperature:

• “Help me understand what you mean by that.”
• “We might disagree on the cause, but we both want things to improve.”
• “Can we separate the people from the policy?”
• “What would a fair solution look like to you?”

The Rise Of Compassionate Patriotism

Compassionate patriotism is about building bridges, not walls. It’s about looking out for our neighbours, honouring our shared history, and dreaming a future where everyone belongs.

Often the jobs taken by immigrants are those that the very people who belittle them would never do – being a cleaner, carer or hospital janitor.

Ahmed Al Ahmed (the have-a-go fruit shop owner hero who saved so many lives in the anti-Jewish shooting on Bondi Beach, was from Syria, a country whose citizens are banned by Trump from visiting the USA, cited as terrorism risks..

Recently Ahmed and others who helped at the scene were roared with appreciation, when they walked onto the pitch. And while in the US for for medical treatment (thankfully Trump let him in), he and the Bondi Beach Rabbi prayed together.

He later said that he had been looking for a cup of coffee. The security guard had told him there would be a hot drink by the sea, as it was Hannukah. He said ‘I saw the Menorah standing tall. I knew these were our Jewish brothers, and I felt happy to see it’.

According to most of the media these days, you can’t call out genocide, without being labelled antisemitic. But of course both armies have committed atrocities, yet those in power are not called out on their actions.