A Song of Patriotic Prejudice

It is virulent against the other nations within the United Kingdom, referencing the common stereotype of the Welsh (as bad singers), the Scottish (as mean) and the Irish (as always trying to blow up the English).

Scholars have debated the degree to which the song is a serious critique, but it has found continued currency into the 21st century as a symbol of English nationalism, particularly in the aftermath of Brexit and other social phenomena.

[17] The historian Victor Bulmer-Thomas suggests Flanders and Swann's song "brilliantly captured" the sense of superiority prevalent in the British imperial mindset.

[19] The song is based on socio-political tongue-in-cheek humour;[1][20] McCann suggested that it demonstrates a "witty and wry style of self-deprecation that set the tone for post-war and post-colonial English irony".

[19] The song's satirical nature is revealed in its early lines: The rottenest bits of these islands of ours We've left in the hands of three unfriendly powers Examine the Irishman, Welshman or Scot You'll find he’s a stinker, as likely as not.

[2] Flanders and Swann expand on the Scots in another verse: The Scotsman he's mean as we're all well aware And bony and blotchy and covered with hair He eats salty porridge He works all the day And he hasn't got bishops to show him the way.

[34] Following a successful run at the Theatre Royal Haymarket—during time which Flanders was appointed OBE in the New Year Honours[6][35]—the duo embarked on a series of international engagements, which combined the new material ("a synthesis of the best"[36]) with some from the previous tour of At the Drop of a Hat.

In the opinion of the theatre historian Gerald Bordman, for example, "it suffered the fate of most sequels, falling far short of the vogue of the original",[8] although Flanders' biographer, Michael Meyer argues it was as successful as its predecessor.

The paper advised its readers seeing the show that they might "hear a remark or two that is rough on the United States", as a song such as "Patriotic Prejudice" was "calculated to set the jingoists aflame".

[52] Cultural historian Jeffrey Richards suggests that a leading theme with Gilbert and Sullivan songs is that they begin as gentle satires, but gradually lose that quality and end up as purely celebratory, as, seemingly, does "Patriotic Prejudice" (with its closing "blithe assumption" regarding the English being "the best"),[52][53] In a slightly different vein, the textual scholar David Greetham has placed it within the same tradition as Sellar's and Yeatman's 1930 tongue-in-cheek retelling of history, 1066 and All That.

[50] One line—which, to Owen Dudley Edwards, "grazes nearer the bone"[26] in the 21 century—reflects on the numerous organisations created within the Irish diaspora, such as Fenian Brotherhood[54] who Flanders and Swann suggest have taken their bitterness towards Britain and the Empire with them.

She argues that while, in the late 20th century, lines such as this would have got the song banned "in the London Borough of Camden, now officially an Irish Joke Free Zone", this is "a pity for it is surely healthy that the English should have the safety valve of laughing at the incomprehensible Paddy".

[57] She highlights how Flanders and Swann focus on a perceived Irish trait taking "history personally" by either hagiogrophising or condemning historical figures in the context of contemporary politics.

[59][note 4] The historian Owen Dudley Edwards has argued that nationalism is not automatically good or bad, or black and white (which would "define a blank page by colourings it does not have").

[63] The simple stereotypes used in the song—based as they were on cultural, political and economic differences—would have been immediately recognisable to the audience, with, say Payne and Shardlow, "even viler calumnies, extending to the people of the whole world, who even argue with umpires!"

[65] Professor Paul Ellingworth considers the prejudice represented in the song to be present beyond the English, noting that "in an increasingly nationalist Scotland ... during an Iran vs England football match it is the Saddamites who would be cheered.

[50] The academic Peter Grant has argued that: If Michael Flanders and Donald Swann are remembered in Britain at all, it is as very old-fashioned humorists who went out of style as soon as the 1960s wave of modern satirists appeared in the wake of Beyond the Fringe.

The sociologists Malcolm Payne and Steven Shardlow have suggested that satirical, comedic rivalry such as that of "Patriotic Prejudice" stems from real life historical dissension and discord.

[1] The psychoanalysts Kenneth Smith and Stephen Overy have argued that it was "relatable to the political climate", comparing the song to the work of rap artist Mickey Avalon[2][note 7] as also being a "hostile joke".

[72] Flint goes on to argue that the humour in "Patriotic Prejudice" effectively laid the basis for a geopolitical perspective of Britain's role in the world even after the war, "using force if necessary".

[75] Patrick Cockburn, writing in The Independent, suggested that the aggressive nationalism the song expresses could be compared to the then-political zeitgeist of "British ministers appear[ing] on television engulfed in union jacks, like so many third world despots".

[25] Similarly, BBC Home Affairs Editor Mark Easton comments in his book, Islands: Searching for truth on the shoreline, that he was reminded of the song at Heathrow Airport and saw an advertisement for then-Prime Minister David Cameron's promotional campaign, "Britain Is Great" before the 2012 Olympics.

"[77]–lead Eaaston to consider that "nationalism is social identity theory at work, exaggerating a sense of the in-groups distinct qualities while often casting the out-group in a poor light".

black and white photo of Flanders and Swann at the piano singing
Michael Flanders and Donald Swann performing on the American tour, 14 September 1966, prior to taking the show to Broadway
exterior colour photo of London's Haymarket Theatre
Haymarket Theatre, London, where At the Drop of Another Hat premiered in October 1963
colour photo of the broadway theatre in New York City
Broadway Theatre, where the revue opened in December 1967
colour photograph of George Martin
George Martin, producer of At the Drop of Another Hat seen in 2006