The Lionesses embody English spirit and uncomplicated patriotism

Telegraph

3 days ago

Such was the pure patriotic fervour flooding through Chloe Kelly, ITV had to apologise for her choice of language, protecting the sensibilities of the teatime audience. 'When we were down against Sweden and down against Italy, we f------ showed grit and determination and we came back,' declared the heroine of the hour, the orchestrator of the Lionesses' winning moment at a second straight European Championship final. 'You can't write the English off.'
It was not so much the profanity that stood out, though, as the sentiment. After years of squeamishness in the game about attachment to national identity, with fans of the England men's team often guilty of lumpen xenophobia by unleashing inflatable Spitfires on the streets of German cities, the very notion of flag-waving has become fraught. Trust Kelly, then, to cut through the hand-wringing with bracing directness, saying: 'I'm so proud to be English.'
Lest she be perceived as an outlier, goalkeeper Hannah Hampton was equally emphatic about crying God for Harry, England and St George. 'We've got that grit, that English blood in us,' she said. 'We never say die.' Those hearing these words for the first time could have been forgiven for falling off their chairs, not because the statements were ill-chosen but because they were so vanishingly rare.
How often, in recent years, have you heard these players' male counterparts utter the same? This is not to suggest that Harry Kane feels any less primal a commitment to the England cause than Kelly, merely to point out that she and her team-mates have offered a timely demonstration of patriotism in its rawest form. While Gareth Southgate was an avowedly proud Englishman, a product both of his 57 international caps and the service in World War Two of his grandfather Arthur, there was a sense during his eight years as manager that he over-intellectualised the issue of allegiance to one's country.
Take his 2021 letter, 'Dear England', composed amid widespread unrest at his side taking the knee, where he portrayed Englishness less in terms of its football connotations than as an expression of a soaring moral crusade. 'I have never believed that we should just stick to football,' Southgate wrote. 'I have a responsibility to the wider community to use my voice, and so do the players. It's their duty to continue to interact with the public on matters such as equality, inclusivity and racial injustice.'
The problem was that a great many England supporters believed this was anything but his duty, imploring him to concentrate only on creating a team that the nation could rally behind. He enjoyed no small success on this front, steering England to two consecutive European finals before Sarina Wiegman did. But by introducing caveats and complexities to his conception of Englishness – 'on this island, we have a desire to protect our values and traditions,' he said, 'but that shouldn't come at the expense of introspection and progress' – he could give the impression that he was lecturing rather than unifying.
Kelly's take on the subject is unvarnished. Speaking after the final, just as she did after the semi-final, about her pride in being English, she was not talking less about the Lionesses' contributions to race relations or rainbow activism than about the character of the team, in particular its quintessentially English attributes of never buckling or abandoning hope. After a period when even the display of the St George's Cross could invite panic, because of its past appropriation by the far-right, her view on what it meant to be English felt refreshingly straightforward and wholesome.
It is the Lionesses' embodiment of English spirit that ensures they will now become pawns in a political game. Sir Keir Starmer wasted little time in inviting them, straight off the plane from Switzerland, to a reception at No 10, saying: 'You dug deep when it mattered most and you've made the nation proud.' With predictable one-upmanship, Sir Ed Davey, leader of the Liberal Democrats, went further, urging the Prime Minister to order a bank holiday. At a time when one group of remarkable young women are held up as exemplifying the best of us, nobody in power can afford to miss the moment. Even Nigel Farage, more of a cricket man, was in on the act, writing: 'What an absolutely fantastic watch. Well done, girls!'
The alignment made sense, given Farage's history of campaigning hard on patriotic values. When Rishi Sunak left last year's D-Day commemorations in Normandy, the Reform leader accused him of being unpatriotic and failing to understand 'our culture'. With Starmer, the positioning is more fluid. Although he has dwelt many times on his memory of belting out Three Lions at the old Wembley in 1996, he also claimed on St George's Day this year that England faced a 'neverending fight for our flag and what it represents'.
Against this backdrop, Kelly might seem a little off-grid with her comments, disconnected from the orthodoxy that patriotism is inherently complicated. Starmer's stated view, which bears eerie similarities with Southgate's, is that it is about 'more than just respecting a shared symbol, it is about service to your country, its people and its values'. Kelly, however, has restored it to the Oxford English Dictionary definition: 'A love of your country and the desire to defend it.' Of all her enduring imprints on the English sporting landscape – the winning goal in 2022, the decisive penalty in 2025 – it is her pride in the place where she belongs that should secure her the greatest public affection yet.