THE POLITICS of identity loom large in the contemporary world as individuals, groups and nationalities come to terms with the erosion of state sovereignty.
Nowhere is this currently more true than in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. And identity crises are often revealed more in everyday life than in high politics.
The politics of beef and of rugby are a fascinating case in point.
This week the British government decided to appeal the European Commission's worldwide ban on the sale of British beef to the European Court of Justice on the grounds that it is not scientifically justified, and amounts to an infringement of the free movement of goods aimed by the other 14 member- states at a competing beef industry.
It also announced a programme of slaughtering all cattle over 30 months, which are at greater risk from BSE, costing about £l billion in all.
Ironies abound. Britain is appealing here to a court which it wants to restrict in the Inter-Governmental Conference. It has welcomed the 70 per cent subsidy from the EU to slaughter these cattle, but strenuously resists the so-called "Irish option" under which all herds containing diseased cattle would be killed, which most of Britain's partners believe will be necessary to restore consumer confidence.
It would be difficult to exaggerate the extent of continental disillusion and anger with Britain's aloof, tardy and inept handling of the crisis. It has deepened the perception that the IGC must proceed a qua-torze, not waiting for a reluctant Britain to catch up.
The feeling is mutual. An influential strand of opinion in the Conservative Party is calling for yet another attempt to rally unity by fanning opposition to the Commission's handling of the beef issue.
Some sections of the British media lend support. "The Brussels molochs will have nothing short at a mass extermination of British cattle," Boris Johnson fulminates in the Daily Telegraph. "They do not seem to appreciate that this would be fiscally ruinous for Britain, and likely to provoke civil disobedience among farmers," he writes.
The unspoken assumption is that such an approach would scotch Tory tax cuts in advance of the election and completely undermine its appeal to the traditionally Conservative farmers.
Particular anger is reserved for the sheer hypocrisy of a Commission whose Agriculture Commissioner, Mr Franz Fischler, admitted in Austria last weekend that "I would not hesitate to eat beef in England. I see no medical reason not to."
That is one thing, however; it is quite another to reassure European consumers who expect stringent preventive public health criteria to be applied, not trimming ones dictated by British agricultural pressure groups.
BUT perhaps another approach might be in order. Mr Fischler indicated after meetings in
Strasbourg with Northern Ireland, Scottish and Welsh representatives that he might favour an exemption for these three regions which, unlike most of
England, have had a much smaller incidence of BSE, though still much greater than in this State.
It is in its way a subversive proposal for a Conservative government that puts such store on maintaining the UK against fissiparous regional nationalisms. Here is Brussels encouraging them once again, undermining the sovereignty that resides in Westminster and the identity associated with the nation-state.
It would expose the conflation of English and British identity that has historically been such a hallmark of the UK. Beef has, after all, been emblematic of this identity. What an irony that mad cows and Englishmen should now be so identified.
It is most unlikely that London will agree to such an exemption, despite vigorous agitation by Northern Ireland, Scottish and Welsh farmers who see in it a clear material argument in favour of devolved or, indeed, of separate government, with direct access to Brussels.
RUGBY Union has remained devolved within the UK frame-work since the four nations tournament was set up over 100 years ago.
It has been an important badge of English, Irish, Scottish and Welsh identity, brought together in British Lions tours. Its affairs have been conducted in a quasi-federal or confederal manner by the Five Nations Committee, with the more recent addition of France.
Last weekend in Dublin a serious split emerged on the committee over how to share out television rights revenues. The English Rugby Football Union said it is not prepared to share them equally with the Irish, Scottish and Welsh unions (the French have a separate arrangement), on the grounds that the English game is supported by many more people and clubs.
The chairman of the committee, Mr Tom Kiernan warned in stark terms of a crisis that could break up the championship.
The emergence of a more explicitly English interest and identity here symbolises a wider question of Britain's constitutional future. The debate on its role in the world and in Europe has become completely entangled in its own internal arrangements, which raise the nature of its state and governmental regime to the first rank of political questions in advance of the forthcoming general election.
Devolution, electoral reforms and possible coalition governments could change the face of the UK and relations between its different nationalities.
Northern Ireland unionists are intriguingly caught up in these crises of identity. The beef and rugby issues arise not from the threats of Irish nationalism but from within Britain itself. They join the unravelling of those other badges of British identity - Protestantism, monarchy, empire and industrial revolution - which have defined unionism.
Unionists lobby to have Northern Ireland beef classified as Irish not British; they identify with the IRFU in the argument over rugby's future in these islands. This is important in the week that saw publication of the ground rules for substantive all-party talks on Northern Ireland and a framework for the elections, both of which could become models for wider constitutional change in Britain.
It is worth recalling that Protestants' explicit identification of themselves as British changed dramatically from 1968 to 1991, according to survey evidence. Whereas 39 per cent said they were British in 1968, in 1991 it was 68 percent (Catholics 20 to 8 per cent), while the number of Protestants claiming Irish identity dropped from 20 to 3 per cent.
The politics of identity run right through the peace process. The green jersey of the Irish rugby team, combined with the green image of Irish beef, could help to change attitudes in the political negotiations among unionists who certainly do not identify with England.
