Malcolm Barker: We have the good luck to be British, but what we need back is our pride

It was a salutary reminder of an attitude of mind inculcated in our generation's childhood, and unchallenged over the years. Of course we are fortunate to be English, and some of us, yet more blessed, were born in Yorkshire.

A concomitant of this benign stroke of fate is pride; pride in our country, pride in our county. Mr Marr made no reference to this. Being proud to be English is out of fashion generally, and more particularly at the BBC.

It was instilled in me early, first in the family, then at school in

the unlikely setting of Montgomeryshire in the mid-Wales countryside. What is now called Berriew Community Primary School conducted its lessons in English, although many of its pupils spoke Welsh as a first language, which put them at a disadvantage, particularly when it came to competing for a place at Welshpool Grammar School.

I arrived among them, a stranger from Yorkshire, in some despair at being translated to a principality where the only county cricket side was Glamorganshire, memorably dubbed "The Glum Glams" by the Middlesbrough Evening Gazette after the team was dismissed with ignominy by Brian Sellers' Yorkshire.

However, things perked up nicely. We had some good teachers, a Miss Jarman among them, and in addition to the usual syllabus they conveyed a sense of the greatness of Britain, which in my own mind I interpreted as England.

We encountered national heroes, Horatio Nelson, James Cook and Thomas Telford (who, we were told, came to Wales to build bridges). We heard about inventors, Richard Trevithick, James Watt and Humphry Davy. Then there were Florence Nightingale, Edith Cavell and Grace Darling.

These were the 1930s and '40s, so the school's maps were amply coloured pinky-red. I remember feeling fit to burst with pride when Miss Jarman pointed out the small island off the coast of Europe which ruled the world, or at least vast expanses of it, made to look all the larger by Mercator's projection of Canada.

In those times, memories of the Great War were raw, and encounters with maimed ex-soldiers were reminders of the unspoken horrors of the trenches. But we had won, we had beaten the Germans, and when we heard Mr Chamberlain's broadcast in 1939 we had no doubt we would win again. Mid-Wales was, of course, remote from the conflict, but the blitz on Liverpool stained the night sky red, a potent cause of dread.

Perhaps it would be an idea to set about encouraging pride in our country yet again. We have our heroes, among them Sir Timothy Berners-Lee, whose invention, the World Wide Web, was perhaps the most significant of the 20th century, for it now dominates all aspects of our daily lives. Sir Tim did not profit from his ingenuity. The web is his gift to mankind.

Then there is the Army. Since the ending of National Service it has been a volunteer force, very much in the tradition of the small professional Army deployed in France in 1914, which sold its life dear, earning in the process the title "Old Contemptibles". As the casualty lists mount, we should surely reflect on the courage required of these young men and women who belong to a generation we old men are sometimes tempted to denigrate.

We should also remember that for many this remains the promised land. Where we English once went out to the world, the world now comes to us, creating a new England. The incomers, whose very arrival here demonstrates enterprise, bring new ideas, talents and faiths to revive and diversify our old country. They are the majority, rather than the few who exploited the loopholes in the citizenship tests carried out by discredited organisations like Sheffield-based City Wide Learning.

Parliament and politicians need to give us a lead. A General Election later this year will offer the opportunity to wipe the slate clean at Westminster, where many honourable and hard-working MPs have been caught up in the expenses scandal as well as some outright rogues.

We must look to the new House to offer leadership, challenges, and the kind of inspiration that sets the blood pulsing.

Gordon Brown seems determined to carry on. He will be hoping that David Cameron suffers a fate similar to the racehorse Devon Loch in 1956. While on a clear run to be first past the post, and apparently a certain winner, the unfortunate animal collapsed under the jockey Dick Francis, bringing down hopes of a Grand National victory for the Queen Mother.

Mr Cameron needs a spark. With the country mired in debt and struggling out of recession, the electorate will look to him for firm and inspirational policies. His latest idea, privatising what used to be the labour exchanges, hardly sets the spirits soaring.

We still have our good fortune. What we need back is our pride.

Malcolm Barker is a former Editor of the Yorkshire Evening Post.