Abstract
This article situates Land Girls (BBC, 2009–2011) in dialogue with the Second World War and its legacy. Although the series ostensibly deals with the experience of British Land Girls during the war in a melodramatic way, Land Girls is best understood as an anxious commentary on the place of Britain and its cultural institutions following the war. The series uses national, racial and economic others in order to de-romanticise notions of a collective national identity, while simultaneously using those others to help articulate an idealised sense of Britishness for a 21st-century audience.
Since the 1990s public interest in heritage television has grown and has found continuing success with contemporary audiences. The BBC’s Land Girls (comprised of three series that aired between 2009 and 2011) is a costume drama that reached an audience of 2.6 million viewers at the series’ peak. Set in the Second World War, the series is generally about the lives and work of Land Girls employed on a farm in Hampstead; however, the programme is less about these women and more a commentary on Britishness and otherness in the mid-20th century and beyond. On the one hand, Land Girls promotes a seemingly conservative, patriotic identity predicated upon duty, respect, honour and – most importantly – the Churchillian collective ‘we’ experience of the war as epitomised by British responses to the Blitz on London. On the other hand, the show attempts to deconstruct that mythic ‘we’ by locating unresolved conflicts of the war, including class and gender divisions, through depictions of individual experiences. Furthermore, by examining British interactions with ‘others’ – including American soldiers, Italian prisoners-of-war (POW), a downed German airman and a conscientious objector – as well as British villains, Land Girls resists mythologising and romanticising Britishness and instead offers a flexible perspective on a society in transition both during the tumultuous years of the Second World War and in the context of Anglo–other relations in the 21st century when the series was produced. Although the show flirts with creating a story that offers a hyperauthentic un/reality of Britishness laden with the consumptive value of collective nostalgia, Land Girls’ focus on national identity reveals underlying cultural values that are set in the Second World War but which are reimagined and recontextualised for modern audiences. The dialectical narrative–counternarrative arrangement of the show – presenting an idealised representation of history, but tempering it with subversive aspects that break up the nostalgic narrative – offers a critical analysis of the collective memory of the Second World War (Webster, 2007: 21). Ultimately, Land Girls challenges the core underpinnings of an exclusive British national identity with as much potential impact on Anglo–other relations today as during the war itself (Chapman, 2005: 1–2).
Created by Roland Moore and commissioned by the BBC, Land Girls focuses on the lives of Land Girls, women who worked with the Women’s Land Army (WLA) from 1938 to 1945. While Land Girls is arranged in a linear story arc about the struggles of the home front during the Second World War, with a fragmented narrative interspersed for some characters, the national narrative that overlies the series is broken up by focusing on a number of key plot points that bring marginalised groups to the forefront. The series follows Bea, Nancy and Joyce, who have very different reasons for joining the WLA. While the under-aged Bea (and her older sister Annie) joined to escape an abusive father and Nancy was conscripted, Joyce wants to serve her country. Although the main characters are in many ways unified by their shared part in the war effort, they come from a variety of socio-economic backgrounds and their social interactions provide the audience with a plethora of individually diverse narratives that are inflected with the inequalities of class and gender relations in Britain. In 45-minute episodes set 3 months apart, the Land Girls’ stories intersect with the wartime experiences of Lord and Lady Hoxley, who are privileged by their status and wealth, but who are enervated and weakened by the changes wrought by the war. The series is steered by its female characters, but it resists creating a femisocial community of women. Most of the women’s interactions are centred on discussions of love, sex and marriage, and conflicts between the women (and the secrets they keep), and are predominantly centred on men. When the Land Girls do come together, it is to prove themselves to their male competitors (who are physically weaker than the women) or to conservative women who doubt their skills and abilities (Webster, 2007: 12). Ultimately, the series celebrates women’s contributions to the war but stops short of advocating women’s liberation from the patriarchal structures of the period (Webster, 2007: 13).
Filmic representations of the Second World War have been growing in number since 1989, especially in combatant countries, but also as the gap between the 70th anniversary of the war and its centenary narrows (Paris, 2007: 1–9). Remembrance and commemoration are part of the public’s attraction to the war, but in many ways the war itself has become a public event; the re-dramatisation of events has not only increasingly commercialised the war, but modern audiences have reclaimed the war as part of our collective memory (Cannadine, 2004: 1–4). As Tobias Ebbrecht has written, through the televisation of historical events, ‘history was transformed into a contemporary event that was related to actual political and social incidents, interpretations and discourses’ (Ebbrecht, 2007: 35). Land Girls illustrates the ways in which British identity has been, and continues to be, shaped by competing versions of the past and, not unlike professional historians, chronicles history from a selective viewpoint in order to illuminate specific events (Hunt, 2004: 90–92). While the show does not claim to depict documented historical events, it does attempt to relate experiences and personal narratives through the reconfiguration of historical events by ‘taking something that is ahistorical and mapping in onto the historical’ (Mckee, 2009: 6). Given that people often learn their history through popular culture, the series (and the BBC) is making a truth-claim as it intersects with the powerful discourse surrounding British identity (Smith, 2000: 3). Land Girls’ examination of class and identity issues in Second World War Britain offers a case study to explore the complex relationship between history, narrative and subjectivity that is distinctive from traditional depictions of the war (Perebroom, 2010: 3–5). Land Girls distinguishes itself from other television series by shifting the focus from the warfront to the home front, and from the male to the female perspective, and has a female target audience in mind that is unusual for a Second World War drama series.
As Jerome de Groote notes, costume dramas have popularly been dismissed as ‘trite, conservative, and dull’, narratively and thematically uncomplicated while embracing a vaguely historically appropriate aesthetic (De Groot, 2015: xi). Land Girls seems to invite the kind of dismissal that de Groote describes as a seemingly benign series meant to appeal to a broad audience (particularly, given its early afternoon time slot, women and retirees). This is not surprising given increasing competition for viewership in a consumer-led market culture. Moreover, internal competition for funding has meant that producers have had to create programmes that would appeal to international audiences as the BBC faces hostility from government regarding public funding through the licence fee (Chapman, 2005: 20). It was this competition that led to the reappearance of costume dramas in the 1990s and a tendency to move away from social issue dramas in the same period (Cooke, 2003: 162–166). While the BBC has moved some of its more controversial programming to BBC2, the presence of Land Girls on BBC1 and the BBC’s willingness to wade into the messiness of debunking some of the myths of the Second World War by fragmenting the national narrative (mostly through the moral complexity of its characters) is notable (De Groot, 2016: 256). In preparation for the 60th anniversary of the war, the BBC’s ‘People’s War’ project includes the development of television programming, such as Blitz: The Bombing of Coventry (2010) and Dunkirk (2004), that challenges some aspects of myths around the Blitz and the British evacuation of France (Chapman, 2005: 25). This cultural history project, which includes Land Girls, aims to integrate ‘real’ experiences into the larger national narratives that have shaped contemporary memories of the war (Gray and Bell, 2012: 110–111).
The overarching theme of the series is to explore the disruptive and divisive nature of the war, despite calls for national unity and patriotism, but also to examine how unresolved discord has since affected British conceptions of nationhood in its relations with ‘others’. The British class system provides the connective tissue for the series, linking the other focal points in a narrative and commentary about the divergences of class relations and identity formation in Britain. Hoxley Manor, and the surrounding town and countryside that are an extension of the manor itself, serves as the setting for the series. Hoxley Manor represents a ‘Golden Age’ for Britain that was situated in earlier practices and idealised spaces (Sorensen, 2002: 196). The manor embodies British nationhood at the turn of the 20th century and particularly the stability of conservative power structures (Chapman, 2014: 139). Throughout the series, Hoxley Manor is both regressive and progressive as it collides with populist representations of the people’s war. Change is achieved at the expense of the ruling classes, and that change can be both cooperative and hostile. The metadiscourse of the series is that nation and people are not homogeneous, but that the strength of the myth comes from its ability to stay above the fracturing of the collectivist narrative, despite historical and popular culture attempts to reconfigure that narrative (Dawson, 1984: 1–2). The series is both a critique of the Churchillian myth and a recognition of its power and longevity.
The persistence of the British class system also serves as a springboard for the series’ criticisms of British insularity in relation to other cultures, and backward looking in economic policy and the nation’s approach to empire. It does so by highlighting the inequalities of the combatant states, particularly through a comparison of well-paid American soldiers to the struggling British population, with Britons seen as a cohesive group when contrasted with the Americans (Lowenthal, 1991: 207–209). National stereotypes – culture-specific evaluations connected to a particular nationality – both in the 1940s and in the present that characterised the British as stoic, austere and deferential to authority are criticised in the show as outdated, but also celebrated as preferable to stereotypes of the Americans as rude and uncivilised, the French as potentially disloyal and the Germans as the enemy (Elsaesser, 2005: 61). The series is both critical of British identity and British history, but without destroying the ‘we’ part of the myth. Instead of dismissing the ‘myth’ as an untruth, Land Girls uses it to address viewers’ concerns about Britain’s place in the global power structure and perceived attacks on the insular ‘we’ caused by unfettered immigration.
Race and Britishness
The uneasy relationship between Britain and the United States is most notable in the show’s treatment of race. Land Girls both projects an inclusive national identity and delves into the murkier side of British race relations and racial policies during the Second World War. In the premiere episode, the audience is introduced to three African American GIs who are confronted with a ‘Today Whites Only’ sign in a shop window. Bea is unsettled by the sign and tells Sgt. Dennis Tucker, a First World War hero and head of the Home Guard, ‘It’s wrong…I can’t believe the Americans would do that to their own troops’. Tucker tells her ‘I don’t make the rules. Take it up with the Yanks’ ( Land Girls 2009. 1: 1). In this interaction Bea draws attention to American divisiveness, as castigated groups are further marginalised when African American soldiers are denied the same status as their white counterparts. The events that follow draw attention to divisions within the British population as well, but the lines are less clearly demarcated. Bea takes action and presents a woman from the Women’s Army Corp (WAC) with a petition bearing 24 names of Britons who oppose racial segregation. The WAC’s indifference is in stark contrast to a determined and angry Bea who threatens that she will not leave until the petition is taken seriously. The WAC assures her that the petition will get to the right people but throws it in the trash as soon as Bea leaves. With regard to race relations, Land Girls is less than subtle in its values: British indifference to matters of race is contrasted with American racism. Bea’s petition is met with casual indifference, not to racism, but to the petition itself. Most people she asks to sign do not know what the petition is for when they reject it, insinuating difference but without clearly articulating it. The Americans in the show do not tolerate Bea’s acceptance of the African American soldiers, making sure that the authorities are there when the men – on Bea’s invitation – try to attend the dance at Hoxley Manor. It is the American authorities who prevent the men from entering, not the Hoxleys. The show is clear that the Hoxleys have invited everyone to the dance, separating British and American culpability for the men’s fates. At the same time, the fact that the Americans overrule the Hoxleys in their own home speaks to not only the power imbalance between the two nations but also vitiates aristocratic power by placing the Hoxleys and Bea on the same level.
The arrival of African American servicemen was met with a mixed reaction in Britain. Prime Minister Winston Churchill was definitive in his statement that ‘the colour bar is not the custom of this country’, and Britain released a film, A Welcome to Britain, in 1943 that welcomed American GIs to Britain and explained that there were a number of cultural differences between the Americans and the British, including a reminder that the British were more tolerant of blacks (Wynn, 2006: 327). Yet, the majority of Britons felt that Black people were different, inferior or childlike and most opposed interracial marriages or sexual relations between races (Schaffer, 2010: 254). There was also a willingness on the part of British politicians and retailers to bow to American pressure for segregation (Thorne, 1998: 342–345). Land Girls offers a complicated mixture of British responses. On the one hand, the storeowners place a ‘whites only’ sign in the window, indicative of British compliance with American racism, while on the other hand, Bea not only objects to the sign but befriends the African American soldiers. The series quite explicitly wades into the controversial debate about ‘others’ and ‘belonging’ but without alienating potential viewers by denying the darker side of British race relations. Despite professions of tolerance, Bea’s defence of ‘British values’ is ultimately defeated, not by American racial policies, but by anti-heroes like Sgt. Tucker ( Land Girls 2009. 1: 1). Inclusivity is also defeated by the series itself because race is not a central theme of other episodes (Fiske, 1987: 180). Instead, the African American soldiers are there to serve Bea’s character development as an idealistic Briton. Part of the power of heritage television is that it has the ability to rehistoricise the past by producing ‘imaginative responses’ that allow the audience to be selective about how it interprets a particular version of the past (Cooke, 2003: 169).
To recuse Britain of responsibility for discriminatory practices and avoid conflict with the United States, the Americans were granted legal authority over US citizens stationed in Britain, thus allowing segregation under US law, but distancing Britain from the implications of US racial policy. Foreign Secretary Anthony Eden claimed in 1942 that Britain had no choice but to defer to the Americans on racial issues because the British did not have sufficient experience to deal with the matter properly (Schaffer, 2010: 248). The British were in a difficult position. While the role of African men was not ignored entirely, as seen in the 1943 MIO documentary African’s Fighting Men, these representations were ephemeral (Grandy, 2014: 530). Moreover, while 12% of the US population were descendants of slaves, Britain held colonies in Africa, India and the West Indies (Wynn, 2006: 327). In Britain, the Second World War was known as ‘the people’s war’ and in the United States, it was dubbed ‘the good war’, whereby the west fought against the extremes of Nazi ideology, yet both countries denied equality even to those who contributed to the Allied war effort. Policymakers’ recognition that the empire was comprised of ‘levels of Britishness’ allowed the British to be both inclusive and exclusive in their understanding of national identity, such as by welcoming labour from the empire but imagining empire with a white, Eurocentric metropole. Just as the Jim Crow laws were a statement of White racial superiority over Blacks in the United States, British expressions of discomfort over segregationist policies, preferring to think in terms of ‘separate spheres of nationality’ (Paul, 1997: 98), allowed them to preserve the ‘we are all British subjects’ approach to empire, central to the Churchillian vision of the British war effort.
The show highlights tension between historical and contemporary ideological values. It is in the purview of film to create its own rules of representation in its constructed relationship between past and present (Rosenstone, 1995: 3–6). Land Girls critiques racism and segregation, but as in its anti-classist approach to the British class hierarchy, it anachronistically advances a universal conception of equality without ever achieving it. The show is aware that it cannot deny British racial policies so it is content to have contemporary liberal values and historical accuracy simultaneously. It achieves this balance first by including Bea’s efforts to end segregation and second by emphasising that the Americans were, and are, more racially discriminatory. It cannot be ignored that the series was created amidst the racially charged ‘birther’ rhetoric of the 2008 US presidential election, whereby some conservatives contested Barack Obama’s legitimacy, which contrasted sharply with PM Gordon Brown’s statement in January 2009 that The whole world is watching the inauguration of President Obama, witnessing a new chapter in both American history and the world’s history. He’s not only the first black American president but he sets out with the determination to solve the world’s problems. (BBC, 2009)
Britishness as inclusive or exclusive
Passivity, however, does not disavow Britain of historical responsibility for discriminatory policies. The most flagrant challenge to the British collective comes when the audience watches the townspeople ‘select’ their new wards from a group of child evacuees who run in a circle at the reception site ( Land Girls 2010. 2: 4). This scene echoes, however slightly, the Nazi sorting and treatment of Jews upon their arrival at the concentration camps. It also draws distinctions ‘between two sets of native Britons – the urban poor and rural England’ (Hylton, 2001: 30). The series problematises a self-congratulatory national narrative by drawing parallels between the treatment of British civilians displaced by the Blitz and the treatment of Europe’s Jews (Hylton, 2001: 45–54). In this scene, a man chooses a boy, giving a quick visual assessment of his physical fitness before pulling him away for work despite the child’s protests. Others watch the man pull roughly at the boy, but they do not try to stop him. Here the show alludes to the selection process in a slave economy: Even though it turns out that the man takes care of the boy, the difference between oppressor and liberator is indistinct. The scene takes place in a dark room where the characters become indistinguishable from one another, suggesting both collective responsibility and secrecy.
In the same episode, two elderly women keep child evacuee Pam, whom they have renamed ‘Sarah’ because it sounds prettier, in a wooden box to discourage her wilful behaviour and to teach the child her proper place. Pam is stripped of her name and identity, and while she is confined to the box, the two women paint a pastoral scene in the garden, against the backdrop of a church. Here again the show offers a glimpse of old England, but the association is not positive as the older generation attempts to exert its will over the coming generation. Additionally, the church’s inclusion in the scene makes it complicit in the women’s actions through its indifference: The church looms in the background as the two women abuse a child. Unlike the ‘selection process’ scene, this abuse takes place in the open, under a blue sky. While darkness obscures the truth, thus protecting the myth, the bright sky represents a counter narrative, one that is not necessarily truer, but that rather offers a change in viewpoint.
Here the series offers a transitive perspective on the collective ‘we’. Men, women, community, nation and the church are all complicit in the abuse of child evacuees who are defined not by their status as Britons, but by their lack of place and belonging (Dawson and West, 1984: 9). The ideals of Britishness, fighting Nazi Germany to protect the world from tyranny and oppression, are challenged by the confinement and mistreatment of British civilians by British civilians, and an imposed hierarchical social order whereby one group is permitted to determine another group’s worth and fate. Land Girls rejects the sanitised image of the war (and British history) as one of good versus evil and intimates that British power was secured by dominating and marginalising ‘others’.
Television plays a crucial role in the construction of modern collective memory, implying differences between national and transnational reconstructions of the past (Fiske and Hartley, 2003: xv). Since the creation of the European Union, national narratives in the United Kingdom have been increasingly influenced by transnational narratives (Bondebjerg, 2017: 261). Land Girls was created in an era that witnessed rising public anxiety about immigration, fuelled by the ‘selective openness’ policies of Labour since 1997. Since the Second World War Britishness has been shaped by whitewashing policies that have eroded access to the metropole by the former colonies, while deeper ties with Europe increased the movement of non-British peoples throughout the United Kingdom. Since 2004 the migration surge has come primarily from Eastern Europe, particularly Poland, due to closer ties between Britain and the European Union. More recently, public anxiety over immigration led to Britain’s decision in 2016 to break from the EU, further highlighting degrees of difference between those who belong and those who do not. While the series condemns the racialist rhetoric of American intolerance, it also reflects the concerns of its audience as it historicises and problematises British claims of tolerance, justice and inclusion, as evidenced by an immigration policy focused on limitation and integration. As Andrew Higson has argued, ‘the British nation is still confused about who and what they are’ (Higson, 1984: 23) and the series Land Girls grapples with these ideological contradictions.
‘Enemies’ and the construction of Britishness
As a commemoration series that grapples with the (de)construction of national identities, Land Girls’ representations of the enemy serve to both celebrate Britain’s history and uncover its contradictions. Series 2 presents both Italian POW and an injured German. One Italian, Salvatore Zuppalo, is charming and reserved, unlike his compatriots who whistle at and flirt with the Land Girls in a stereotypically Italian and non-threatening way. The Italians work at the farm and their interactions with the Land Girls centre on adolescent gestures of interest with blue sky framing the background. The setting is pastoral, oddly romantic and unobtrusive. Salvatore, however, separates himself from the others when he tells Bea that he is not like the fascists back at camp – he is a communist and, following this revelation, a tentative friendship develops between the two ( Land Girls 2010. 2: 2). The idea that Italians are enemies of the British is complicated by Salvatore’s rejection of fascism, offering a more complicated national identity instead.
In the Second World War, neither the British nor Americans took the Italian military very seriously. The Italians in the series are represented as farmers not soldiers, indicative of the fact that most Italian POWs in Britain were used for agricultural work, but it also reminds audiences that Italy switched sides and became a British ally in 1943. The media, and television in particular, provides access to the hidden dimensions of European identity policies by permitting constructed national identities to remain in place, while allowing for the linking of national groups through common experiences. This double structure ensures the dominance of national identity, while recognising a weaker European identity (Bondebjerg, 2017: 304). In Land Girls, the Italians are supervised while working, but the characters are quite casual in their work and interactions with the Land Girls. Italy poses no threat to Britain and its contribution to the war is viewed in terms of relative economic support – after 1943, many Italian soldiers stayed on the land as worker co-operators – but not military assistance (Moore and Fodorowich, 2002: 131–137). This allows the ‘Britain alone’ myth of the war to remain in place, while recognising the role of subgroups that were peripheral to, but not entirely absent from, the British national experience.
In this part of the series, the hierarchical nature of British society is transposed to international relations, while maintaining its deconstructive counter narrative format. The Italian state is a secondary power compared to Britain, its soldiers are relatively harmless, and even as allies their efforts are hardly notable. The Italian POWs are supervised by their British captors in what remains an unequal relationship, notwithstanding Italy’s realliance, just as the Land Girls remain passive participants in the war despite their contributions (and despite the female focus of the series). Neither the Italians nor the British Land Girls are free to leave their social or economic positions. The audience is invited to see both situations as a betrayal of the ‘common man’ and the persistence of a social/international structure that was inward looking, inequitable and self-affirming. The series does not deny that Britain was on the ‘right’ side of the conflict, only that national myths about ‘one people’ and ‘Britain alone’ served to gloss over the inconsistencies of the state’s oscillating partnerships. History television often uses memory transitivity, linking of national and sub-narratives to acknowledge the social and cultural encounters that are central to how history is shaped, represented and retransmitted to audiences, but without coming into direct contact with those events. These are cultural links that shape how historical contact is made, for example between past and present, but also allowing for generational differences in how the links are processed and understood (Zerubavel, 2003: 82, 59).
The difficulty of pinpointing Britain’s enemies and allies in the series also points to the fluidity of international relations as the core states mentioned in the show have realigned themselves in relation to Britain over the course of the 20th and 21st centuries. The Anglo-other focus of the show is also a steady reminder that Britain’s Second World War experience set it apart from the continent and the United States but also allows the audience to see how ‘nostalgic’ elements of the show are reassessed over time and in relation to ‘others’. The devastation of the Second World War, the collapse of empire, American economic predominance and the re-emergence of the Soviet Union as a threat to British interests post-1945 resulted in the rise of multistate organisations. Meanwhile, wars in the Middle East, Russian revanchism and Britain’s Atlantic focus have resulted in a cost–benefit analysis of multilevel governance in recent years (Wallace and Phillips, 2009: 263–284). The show captures both the dangers of British involvement in world affairs but also the necessity of British engagement globally and intimates, quite deliberately, that an outward focus has and does come at a domestic cost. Land Girls’ attempt to historicise changing international relations acknowledges that the familiar national narrative, specifically Britain’s search for supremacy and security, still resonates with contemporary audiences facing uncertainties about the future, just as it did during the tumultuous years of the Second World War (Trenz, 2016: 305).
The show’s acknowledgement of continual changes in European alliances and alignments, and with them the making and remaking of the national narrative for the purpose of both political theatre and the practicalities of policymaking (Bondebjerg, 2017: 260), is also evident in its treatment of its lone German character, Ulrich Keitmeiler. As in The One That Got Away (1957), Ulrich is not identified as a Nazi and the show makes no overt reference to Nazism. The German is duplicitous from the outset, but he does not engage in acts of sabotage and poses no overt threat to the farm or village. Ulrich is introduced when Martin, a boy, finds him hiding in a shed. He tells Martin that he is a (British) conscientious objector and, if found, will be hanged. Ulrich has been injured and threatens to harm Martin and his family if he does not bring him food and whisky. Operating in the shadows, Ulrich is a mercurial figure. Martin is wary of him as a potential conscientious objector, aware of the threat Ulrich poses to himself and the British war effort, but decides to keep the secret and help him anyway, adding nuance to the narrative. Although Ulrich is stereotypically German in terms of his physical appearance, Martin does not know he is German until the boy accidently finds his uniform ( Land Girls 2010. 2: 3). Ulrich’s uniform reveals that he is a Luftwaffe kampfflieger and the silver piping on the collar and silver eagle on the right breast indicate that he is a member of a bomber crew who had flown more than 60 missions.
Once Ulrich has had time to recover from his injuries, he tries to escape by commandeering a wagon and taking Martin and Joyce hostage at gunpoint. When the wagon crashes in the woods, Joyce gets the gun and the next scene involves her recounting what happened to a tribunal after the fact. She is flustered and cannot remember exactly what transpired, but the men on the tribunal assure her that she shot and killed the German in self-defence. When she protests that she killed an unarmed man, she is assured that her life was in danger: he was a kampfflieger and his very presence was weapon enough ( Land Girls 2010. 2: 3). The head of the tribunal takes a hard line position that all Germans are dangerous and nefarious (Dawson, 1984: 31). He insists that Joyce was afraid, but she rejects that interpretation, stressing instead that she was angry. Joyce’s parents were killed in an air raid and her husband, posted overseas, is missing. Her actions were retaliatory not defensive ( Land Girls 2010. 2: 5), placing her at odds with the national narrative: In the face of German aggression, Britain had no choice but to defend itself. In the simplest terms, the audience is to view the German as an enemy who was responsible for bombing Britain and killing thousands of British civilians: He is the face of the Blitz and the fact that he is a kampfflieger assigns him individual responsibility. Yet, Joyce also recognises that Ulrich, unlike her, was following orders and was not responsible for his role in the war. The series deconstructs both the position that all Germans were guilty and the collective moral authority of the British.
Land Girls captures the fluidity of British public opinion both during and after the war. In 1942, Mass Observation found that 54% of Britons did not blame German soldiers and airmen for the war, placing blame directly with the Nazi regime, and public sympathy for the German people increased to 60% in 1943 (Ferguson, 2004: 186). Even British film drew a distinction between the culpability of the German state and the relative innocence of the German people for the war. The British film Frieda (1947) is about a German nurse who helps a British airman, Robert, escape from a German POW camp, only to be viewed with suspicion by his family when they arrive in Oxfordshire. While Frieda is a good German, her brother is a faithful Nazi, and in Robert’s interactions with the two he vacillates between his indebtedness to Frieda and his hatred of Germans (Dawson, 1984: 30–31). As in the film, Land Girls acknowledges the moral complexities of the war. Joyce’s decision to execute the German represents the show’s recognition that the Allied bombing campaign against German cities was viewed as retaliation for the Blitz. Joyce’s acknowledgment that her actions were both justified and unjustified simultaneously validates and denies her sense of guilt and embraces the ambiguity of such simultaneity.
While the series recognises the retaliatory nature of Joyce’s/Britain’s actions, it stops short of condemning them. Rather, Land Girls acknowledges that in the age of total war, no state was entirely innocent (Overy, 2013: 304–307). With regard to Britain’s relationship with Germany, the show is forward-looking and presentist. Undeniably, the two countries shared a difficult and bloody past, but as major allies since 1945, the series is content to give the audience what it wants, revenge for the Blitz, but not without implicating Britain for its own moral failings.
‘Allies’ and the construction of Britishness
The show takes a similarly presentist approach to Britain’s relationship with France. In their first appearance in Land Girls, the French literally emerge from the shadows and have in their custody Flight Sergeant John Fisher, Joyce’s husband, who was shot down over France. They speak French, but no on-screen translation is offered ( Land Girls 2011. 3: 3). Instead, the viewer is given action and appearance rather than thought or intention, encouraging our suspicion and, arguably, xenophobia. Reflecting on a long history of Anglo-French antagonism, as well as the loss of the French state as Britain’s principal ally in the war, we are unsure whether the French are allies or enemies. Winston Churchill was explicit in his distrust of allies, citing a misguided faith in France as a contributing factor in Britain’s loss at Dunkirk. France was likewise critical of its ally, charging that the British refused to commit to Europe’s defence (Grafton, 1981: 167). But whereas the Miracle of Dunkirk led to British feelings of superiority, turning defeat into a brave escape, France suffered under occupation as Britain turned its attention towards the United States. This uneasy relationship did not end with the Second World War and the shroud of darkness and secrecy that dominated the scenes with the Free French—could they trust one another or not—dominated the post-war years as well. France emerged from the war sceptical of British intentions towards Europe, which only served to validate the ‘Britain alone’ myth. As the survivor of 1940, Britain saw itself in a leadership role, whereby its interactions with Europe could help it build its power relative to the United States and the USSR; the Anglo-European relationship was beneficial, but not necessary for Britain’s long-term survival (Smith, 2000: 131).
Land Girls, however, is not content to simply highlight past and present Anglo-French antagonisms; rather, it uses the Free French within France as enemies of the established Vichy government to intentionally mirror the collaborationist spies within Britain, ultimately rejecting the narrative of British (and French) collectivity. Series 3 opens with air raid sirens and anti-aircraft guns as German planes bomb a military depot ( Land Girls 2011. 3: 1). The scene is dark, filled with fear and uncertainty, as the civilian sphere collides with the warfront (Gray and Bell, 2012: 110). The psychological impact of the war is evident when a land girl is killed in the bombing and another narrowly escapes being seriously injured by a threshing machine. The scenes that follow have the Land Girls, fighting against patriarchy and gender discrimination, challenge the male workers to a ploughing competition, thus revealing disparities within the civilian war effort ( Land Girls 2011. 3: 2). The scenes become noticeably lighter as the Land Girls defeat the men and claim their part in Britain’s victory.
Cracks in the collective narrative widen when the audience is introduced to a new character, Dr Richard Channing. John Fischer is transferred to Hoxley Manor and placed under Channing’s care. It is soon revealed that Channing is a traitor and his care for John is intended to uncover the location of the safe house in France, a reversal whereby Britain becomes not only an enemy of the French, but potentially self-destructive. The show is clever in its supposed rectification of the spy problem – Channing fools the authorities and Lady Hoxley when he sets up Ellis Harper ( Land Girls 2011. 3: 5). The fact that Channing fools Lady Hoxley is crucial. Earlier in the series, Lady Hoxley conspires with Jack Gillespie, a boorish businessman from Chicago who mocks the quaintness of the British aristocracy, to abduct Bea’s baby, William. Lady Hoxley’s assistance demonstrates the problem of aristocratic privilege (that a wealthy American, and the baby’s grandfather, has more right to the baby than its British mother) and the limits of British collectivism in the face of external threats. Lady Hoxley ultimately prevents Gillespie from abducting William and her attitude towards her social inferiors softens, but she, like Gillespie, remains a villain in the series.
Yet, at the end of the series, Lady Hoxley remains deceived, not by an obvious external enemy but by an unlikely internal enemy. Harper dies in a dark barn and Channing is free to continue his insidious work from within the manor (Britain) itself. Channing’s placement at Hoxley Manor is an important element of the series’ criticism of the dangers of an overly insular, ‘Britain alone’ approach to nationhood. He takes advantage of the aristocracy by applauding their wartime efforts while also seeking to undermine their power base in the countryside. He fools the police into thinking the threat has been nullified and embeds himself in the home front war effort by saving the lives of men in uniform while actively working to take the lives of the Free French who are aiding the British. Significantly, the show’s finale ends with a wedding photograph, which includes Channing standing in front of a church amid the aristocracy and land workers alike, turning the unresolved threat inward rather than outward ( Land Girls 2011. 3: 5).
While the series does not dispense with the myth of national unity, it does seek to refashion it. Revisionist history is not only the purview of historians, and the BBC has been accused of attempting to debunk the ‘myths’ of the past, particularly those grounded in the Second World War (Leonard, 2003). While the BBC has denied such intentions, it has challenged the mythic history of the war by deglamorising British heroism ( Dunkirk in 1958 and Dunkirk in 2004) and demystifying the collective by focusing on lesser-known experiences ( The Night Watch in 2011 and Blitz: The Bombing of Coventry in 2010). While Winston Churchill’s speech to the Commons stated that ‘[t]he whole of the warring nations are engaged, not only soldiers, but the entire population’, thus articulating a patriotic definition of Britishness, Land Girls attempts to demystify the national narrative by introducing characters that challenge the collective ‘we’ (Calder, 2008: 17). Spies, conscientious objectors, profiteers and thieves represent groups that existed in concrete form during the war, standing in opposition to nation, a conceptual abstraction that exists through representations and rhetoric. Yet, Land Girls alludes to the fact that nation as a conceptual abstraction was challenged by the fissiparity of Britishness, even during wartime when national identity was thought to be at its strongest. The show’s willingness to deconstruct British identity, and to make it more inclusive, was attuned to modern audiences that were confronted with the possible break-up of the United Kingdom in the 21st century as national groups reordered how they defined themselves. The Second World War and the faltering of empire not only altered Britain’s place as a great power but also challenged what it meant to be British post-1945 (Grandy, 2014: 530). Rather than reducing ‘others’ in Land Girls to matters of unimportance that were simply overpowered by the British collective, a conscientious objector named Clifford refuses to be dissuaded from his beliefs despite taunting and physical abuse from his patriotic superiors ( Land Girls 2011. 3: 4), the spy is never caught, and the aristocracy as the custodians of Englishness are displaced by the economic challenges of two world wars and the uncertainties of another post-war reconstruction effort.
Land Girls presents an untidy version of Britishness that speaks to the contemporary concerns of its audience. The series is meant to commemorate the 70th anniversary of the Second World War, but it was created and aired in the wake of the 2008 economic crisis and as European states began preparations for the centenary of the First World War. The hardships suffered by the British people are acknowledged, and while the show champions the average Briton’s adaptability and perseverance in the wake of military and economic exhaustion, it also recognises that such challenges come with enormous costs, both to the domestic population, and in international politics (Connelly, 2004: 165). The series deconstructs the intense and mythical narrative of the British collective experience as engendered by the war and its supposed moral authority in entering the war in the first place, but without labelling this version of Britain’s Second World War experience an untruth. Rather, Land Girls challenges the rhetoric of the British propaganda machine and politicians like Winston Churchill who particularised national discourse to the point of creating a narrow, but malleable, national narrative that has transcended the war and shaped British national identity into the 21st century. So powerful has the myth become that Britain condemned American segregationist practices while simultaneously fighting to preserve the empire. Britain likewise condemned the racism of the ‘birther’ rhetoric that came to define the 2008 US presidential campaign, while supporting a view of Britishness that is exclusionary and xenophobic. Land Girls is ultimately about the progression and development of British identity and how that identity has, and continues to be, shaped by relations with the continent and the Atlantic world. While the show celebrates British identity and culture as preferable to ‘other’, its evaluation is self-critical and uncongratulatory, asking audiences to confront the realties of British experiences in the Second World War and the consequences of its involvement as the centenary of the war approaches.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
