Shakespeare and St George. Language and the stories we tell about who we are.

I've lived outside my country of birth for most of my adult life. My children were born in two different countries. They speak three languages between them with varying degrees of fluency, and they carry identities that don't fit neatly into any single national category.

April 23rd, with its double claim, is a useful prompt for thinking about what national identity actually is and how it works. Because St George was not English. He was born in what is now Palestine, trained as a Roman soldier, and became a Christian martyr in the third century. He was venerated across the Middle East, adopted by the Crusaders, and became the English patron saint somewhere in the medieval period through a process that was neither clean nor simple.

England claiming St George as its patron is, on inspection, an act of creative appropriation. The dragon is not English. The saint is not English. The story travelled, was adopted, was made local, and became identity. This is what national identity always is: a story that was made, not found.

National identity is always a story that was made, not found. Knowing this doesn't make the identity less real. It makes it more interesting — because made things can be remade.

National identity is always a story that was made, not found. Knowing this doesn't make the identity less real. It makes it more interesting — because made things can be remade.