Revelry and Mayhem
By Theodore Dalrymple
Is that British youths enjoying themselves—or killing someone?
The full beauty and refinement of contemporary British culture were evident in a short item in the Guardian this week:
The full beauty and refinement of contemporary British culture were evident in a short item in the Guardian this week:
Four people died at the weekend following attacks during New Year’s Eve parties in Luton, Sheffield, London, and Toft Monk in Norfolk. A teenage girl and boy were arrested in Bedfordshire after a 42-year-old man was found stabbed outside his partner’s house in Luton, and a man in his 20s is in custody in north London after a 22-year-old man died of shotgun wounds in Clerkenwell. In Sheffield, a man died following a confrontation at the Stars and Mayfair Party suites, and in Norfolk two men aged 38 and 45 are in custody after a man in his 20s died outside a pub in the village of Toft Monk.
Four murders in a population of more than 60 million is not very many. Yet
this is to miss their emblematic quality. The undertow of aggression and
violence in what passes for social life in Britain (a country that not so long
ago was remarkable for its low level of public disorder) is so obvious that
only those with their eyes shut could miss it. Nowadays, wherever the British
gather socially, you get the feeling that things could get nasty at any moment.
The young British get drunk en masse, they scream and shout en masse, they make
fools of themselves en masse, and they become aggressive and paranoid en masse.
Indeed, it has become increasingly difficult to distinguish between the
sound of young British people enjoying themselves and the sound of young
British people committing murder in the street. I do not exaggerate. Twice in
recent years I have heard the “normal” sound of drunken revelry outside in the
early hours of the morning, only to discover later that it was the sound of
someone being stabbed or beaten.
The citizenry either joins in the menacing revelry itself or retires behind
closed doors like the Transylvanian peasantry avoiding Dracula after dark. Our
supine leaders do nothing, afraid of appearing old-fashioned and stuffy and
perhaps of offending the alcohol industry, which actively promotes mass
drunkenness. Their paralysis in the face of so simple a problem to solve does
not augur well for their ability to confront the much more serious and complex
problems confronting the country.
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