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Tourism and the symbols of identity
Tourism Management 20 (1999) 313 — 321
Tourism and the symbols of identity Catherine Palmer* Department of Service Sector Management, University of Brighton, 49 Darley Road, Eastbourne, East Sussex, UK Received May 1998; accepted August 1998
Abstract This article discusses some of the issues surrounding the relationship between heritage tourism and national identity (focusing upon England). It argues that heritage tourism is a powerful force in the construction and maintenance of a national identity because it relies upon the historic symbols of the nation as a means of attracting tourists. Thus, the tourism industry, through its use of ‘our heritage’, becomes yet another means by which contemporary concepts of nation-ness are defined. Such a position has implications for the way in which sites are managed and promoted. 1999 Elsevier Science Ltd. All rights reserved. Keywords: Tourism; Heritage; National identity; Semiology
1. Introduction Identity almost everywhere has to be produced partly out of the images constructed or reproduced for tourists, including the image of being a place. . . . . which is on the global tourist map (Urry, 1994). Questions such as ‘who are we’? and ‘where do we fit in’? are becoming increasingly common in today’s world. Shifting boundaries, loyalties and spaces are evident in the conflicts and disputes that have arisen since the end of the second world war. Current debates within the European Union, over issues such as Maastricht and a single currency, have highlighted the strength of feeling among people who consider their national sovereignty to be at risk. As exemplified by Tony Blair’s recent speech to the French National Assembly which made specific reference to the fact that many people in Europe feared greater integration would affect their sense of national identity (The Financial Times, 1998). Indeed, in Britain, the subject of English identity has been the focus of much media attention. According to the journalist Jeremy Paxman recent referenda results, enabling the Scots and the Welsh to obtain a measure of democratic independence
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from Westminster, have led many English people to ask themselves what it is that makes them who they are (Newsnight, 1998). However, such concerns are not always containable in media debates and discussions. Many of the conflicts on the world stage today are directly attributable to the desire to belong to an identifiable group, recognised by others as being a legitimate group. For example, in the former Yugoslavia and among the Kurds of northern Turkey and Iraq. Consequently, debates dealing with issues of nationalism and national identity are arguably amongst the most important of this age. National identity and nationalism are in a sense separate but related concepts and it is never easy to discuss one without passing over the boundaries of the other. This shifting dichotomy highlights the first difficulty. That is the many, varied and complex theories of nationality, the nation and nationalism which have been proposed over the years by scholars such as Kedourie (1960) SetonWatson (1997), Gellner (1983), Smith (1983, 1991) and Anderson (1991). However, it is not the intention here to enter into a lengthy debate about theories of nationalism generally, but rather to discuss those aspects that relate to the concept of national identity, how it develops, is communicated and reproduced. The overall aim, then, is to use this discussion as an opportunity to consider some of the main interconnected themes that help to construct a national identity. In addition, the article will examine some of the underlying meanings behind the images
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of heritage tourism (focusing upon England) and the implications of these for the tourism industry.
2. The making of a nation Before discussing these latter points it is necessary to introduce the overall context within which this article is set, the emergence and growth of nations and of nationality. Connor maintains that conceptualizing a nation is difficult because the essence of a nation is intangible. And yet it is this essence, this psychological bond, that joins a people while at the same time differentiating them from all others (Connor, 1994). Renan describes this essence as a soul, a spiritual principle whereby a nation is the culmination of a long past of endeavours, sacrifice and devotion; a grand solidarity of members who wish to live a communal life (Renan, 1990). This idea of community is taken further by Smith who argues that a nation is first and foremost thought of as a community of common descent behind which are certain beliefs about what constitutes a nation, as opposed to any other type of collective cultural identity (Smith, 1991). These beliefs are described by Smith as a historic territory, or homeland, common myths and historical memories, a common mass public culture and common legal rights and duties for all members (Smith, 1991, p. 14). Such elements help to construct a national identity. Anderson further argues that nationality and nationness are cultural artefacts of an imagined political community that is both limited and sovereign. This imagined community came to exist in the imagination of people as a result of the technological and economic changes that produced capitalist societies. For Anderson, the nation is part of an imagined political community precisely because’. . . . . members of even the smallest nation will never know most of their fellow-members, meet them or even hear them. . . , (Anderson, 1991, p. 6). National identity is thus a communion experienced through immediate family, friends and neighbours, rather than through association with the entire nation. Which, of course, would be an impossibility. Anderson further maintains that the imagined nation is also limited — has finite, if elastic, boundaries, beyond which lie other nations, and also sovereign — autonomous from other states in terms of its internal legislative power. The individual’s experience of this imagined, limited and sovereign, national community is what Tomlinson refers to as ‘the sense of national identity’ (Tomlinson, 1991, p. 80). What is important here is that individuals come to identify themselves in relation to a nation composed of people with similar ways of behaving, communicating and thinking; what Gellner refers to as a mixture of loyalty and identification leading to a willed adherence to the rules of the group (Gellner, 1983). This ‘willed adherence’ is described by Renan as a daily plebiscite whereby
individuals affirm their desire to continue a common life (Renan, 1990, p. 19); in other words, consents to the existence of the nation as a large-scale solidarity to which they choose to belong. For Smith, this national will is important because a nation can only exist if everyone accepts the aspirations, sentiments and goals of the nation. Which does not mean that different interpretations cannot be accommodated, but that the overall ‘raison d’etre’ of the nation must be accepted by all; what Rousseau has called ‘the national character’ (Smith, 1991, p. 75). This pride, this sentiment, this character, are arguably what make a people a nation, what endow them with a national identity. They are the ideals embodied in the national symbols, ceremonies and customs of a nation. They are the concepts that make the nation visible and distinct for every member and which help to communicate the nation to others: They include the obvious attributes of nations — flags, anthems, parades, coinage, capital cities, oaths. . .museums of folklore, war memorials. . . passports, frontiers — as well as more hidden aspects, such as national recreations, the countryside, popular heroes and heroines, fairy tales. . .all these distinctive customs, mores, styles and ways of acting and feeling that are shared by the members of a community of historical culture (Smith, 1991, p. 77). A nation is all these things, and it is through these symbols that the ‘deep horizontal comradeship’ of Anderson is communicated and translated into what can be termed a sense of national pride (Anderson, 1991, p. 7). Nevertheless, what constitutes national identity can change over time, the criteria on which it is based are not fixed indefinitely. As Clifford illustrates, 20th-century identities no longer presuppose continuous cultures or traditions. Everywhere individuals and groups improvise local performances from (re) collected pasts, drawing on foreign media, symbols, and languages (Clifford, 1988). Likewise, multiple identities can (and do) exist alongside each other. For example, those that are based on an individual’s gender, religion, place of birth or even occupation. Indeed, Eade has shown how young Bangladeshi Muslims who describe themselves as ‘British’ do so as part of a complex mix of national and religious identities that link them to a variety of diverse ‘homelands’ (Eade, 1997). Definitions of identity in this instance are based around the cultural and religious ties of Islam and Bangldesh, rather than around those of England or Great Britain. A national identity is thus a very personal concept as individual’s draw upon the differing identities available to them in order to construct their own sense of who they are and how they fit in. Moreover, the previous comment by Clifford enables the link between identity and tourism to become more obvious, since the tourism industry, through its packaging of selected symbols of identity as
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‘our heritage’, is an example of the type of ‘groups’ to which Clifford was referring. Tourism’s images of nationhood thus provide individuals with yet another means by which they can understand who they are and where they have come from. This does not mean that the images on show reflect values that are still acceptable today, they may, or they may not. Rather, they indicate the components that have evolved through the years into present day interpretations of nationhood. In identifying with these components domestic tourists are making the connection between themselves and the nation. While overseas visitors see them as the distinctive mark of a nation (Lanfant, 1995). As Smith argues, heritage attractions are ‘sacred centres’, objects of spiritual and historical pilgrimage, that reveal the uniqueness of their nation’s ‘moral geography’ (Smith, 1991, p. 16). What is needed therefore, is an examination of the use of such ‘(re)collected pasts’ and of their influence on contemporary concepts of nation-ness.
3. Tourism as identity As illustrated above, the symbols that help to construct and to convey a sense of national identity are imagined to lie at the heart of a nation’s soul. Questions concerning the way such symbols are used are of particular salience for countries, like England, that rely upon them as the means of attracting tourists to their shores. Heritage, the ‘buzz’ word of the 1990s, is employed to promote tourism to a variety of different destinations. Its main aim is thus the packaging of an identity for sale to tourists; or, as Horne argues, nationality is ‘. . .one of the principle colourings of the tourist vision’ (Horne, 1984, p. 166). A nation’s history, or heritage is only one of the elements that combine to form a national identity. Others include language, political affiliation, race and religion. Yet the tourism industry has been criticized for selecting and promoting certain aspects of the past as if they were ‘a unified phenomenon representative of the nation’ (Walsh, 1990, p. 178). In a similar vein, Samuel argues that the tourism industry markets a particular version of Englishness’ . . . in which the country is caught in a time-warp and people comport themselves as a folk’ (Samuel, 1989, p. iv). Thus whole regions and towns are renamed: Suffolk becomes ‘Constable Country’, North Yorkshire is now ‘Captain Cook Country’ and Battle is no longer a town in Sussex but in ‘1066 Country’ (Gold & Ward, 1994). More importantly, perhaps, the heritage label has become an important means of attracting visitors to a variety of places, from industrial manufacturing sites to the homes of writers and poets. Thus, words such as historic, nostalgia and heritage are frequently seen on tourist brochures, as are phrases such as ‘a treasured part of Britain’s heritage’ and ‘the birth place of
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England’. Prompting Mellor to lament ‘it is certainly true that ‘heritage’ has become a little too inclusive’ (Mellor, 1991, p. 98). Such words and phrases are not merely examples of nostalgia-arousal, they also promote an idea of nation (Walsh, 1990). They create an awareness of the foundations upon which this nation’s identity rests. As Ashworth argues, the past, as heritage, is a potent marketing strategy because it can define a national identity through a few selected stereotypes of people, places and mythologies (Ashworth, 1994). While it is accepted that England, as a part of Great Britain, is about more than images of an ancient and historic past, the heritage is still considered its key resource, particularly for attracting overseas tourists (ETB/BTA, 1996/7). Indeed, even though the British Tourist Authority’s alternative guide to Britain concentrates on promoting the country’s pop music culture, its fashion and night life, references to heritage are still used as the hook to bring people in (Evans, 1997). One reason why heritage tourism is so popular and enduring is because the images presented reveal a past that people can recognise as belonging to them. It unites and is timeless. It represents a lifestyle perceived to have been better, more fulfilling and community driven. Where man and nature worked together side by side, hand in hand. Such a past is created through ‘a closely held iconography of what it is to be English’ (Wright, 1985, p. 2). Landscapes, castles, country houses and their associated paraphenalia of everyday life, are presented as embodying the essence of nationhood. They thus provide visitors with both a physical and an experiential link with a nation and its people (Sternberg, 1997). It is, therefore, important to examine how such a connection is engendered and any influence it may have upon the creation and maintenance of identity. As McCrone argues, ‘the question to ask is not how best do cultural forms reflect an essential national identity, but how do cultural forms actually help to construct and shape identity. . .’ (McCrone, 1992, p. 195). Such issues provide the focus for the ensuing discussion.
4. Symbols of identity One way of approaching McCrone’s question is via the concept of semiology. The study of the use and interpretation of symbols and signs within contemporary society (Deely, 1990). This concept was first adapted for the tourism industry by Dean McCannell (1989) in his seminal text ¹he ¹ourist. Here MacCannell argues that tourist attractions are, in fact, signs that represent something to someone. Thus, Thanksgiving is one of the most
See current tourist brochures for Hever Castle and the town of Battle.
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potent symbols of Americanness. (Jenkins, 1993). Edinburgh Castle stands for Scotland (McCrone et al., 1995). While the Eiffel Tower symbolises Paris, ‘. . .it is everywhere on the globe where Paris is to be stated as an image. . .it is the major sign of a people and of a place: it belongs to the universal language of travel’ (Barthes, 1979, pp. 3, 4). The key point about such signs is their ability to convey meaning, to transmit very particular messages about a nation, it’s culture. As Graham Dann argues, nostalgia tourism aims to answer the question ‘who am I?’ in terms of ‘who was I’ (Dann, 1996). Thus, the tourism industry relies upon a form of nationalistic rhetoric as a way of conveying images and meanings about what it considers to be the nation’s communal heritage. Nowhere is this more eloquently expressed than in the promotional brochure entitled Defence of the Realm, which offers guided tours to sites of military and historic interest: The triumphs of Agincourt and adventures of Empire, when Henry VIII built castles and Nelson Fell, when Spitfires held firm and the Dunkirk Spirit was forged, a window onto the rest of the world and into the past. . . these images present a few dramatic snapshots of the episodes which make-up the turbulent history of our island realm. . . by touring the sites. . . you can uncover the ambitions and achievements of this country through stories of fear and hardship, faith and courage. (Promotional Tourist Brochure, 1993, p. 1). This heritage, the national symbols, ceremonies and customs of a nation, thus provide an almost inexhaustible supply of material which can be appropriated and adapted for the purpose of creating a distinctive sense of nationhood for tourists. It is this idea of nation which is so powerfully present in the language of heritage of tourism. As illustrated by the promotional brochure for Penshurst Place in Kent, the home of the Viscount De L’Isle, which states that, ‘the house has been the natal home of poetry, romance, patriotism — the theatre of sumptuous hospitality — the abode of chivalry and the resting place of virtue and honour’ (Promotional Tourist Brochure, 1996). Consequently, tourism’s use of identity goes far beyond the commercial it goes to the heart of a people becaue it serves to define their cultural identity and to make this visible, both to themselves, and to ‘others’. Furthermore, cultural identity underpins national identity as it communicates the past and present traditions and mores of a people, thus enabling them to be identified as a distinctive group. As illustrated by Renan: to have common glories in the past and to have a common will in the present; to have performed great deeds together, to wish to perform still more — these are the essential conditions for being a people (Renan, 1990, p. 19).
As previously suggested the language of heritage tourism enables it to create its own set of touristic ‘sacred centres’. These centres highlight the type of themes that are continually reappearing within heritage tourism and which are used to symbolise the nation, identity, a people. They include references to the physical environment such as the sea, country houses, castles and landscapes, as well as to the moral characteristics of virture, faith, honour and courage. All these elements are, in a sense, metonymic signs for the type of characteristics that are deemed to be present in the English character. As such, they help to construct the image of the nation, discussed earlier by Smith, as being a community of common descent. Such a view draws upon the work of Roland Barthes who argues that a myth is a type of language, a type of speech that serves to represent aspects of a culture to individuals, ‘. . .myth cannot possibly be an object, a concept, or an idea; it is mode of signification. . .’ (Barthes, 1973, p. 117). Furthermore, as Smith and Renan have indicated, myths are central to the concept of national identity and the language of myth is also an important part of heritage tourism, as the previous quotes illustrate. Indeed, the relationship between myths and the semiotic messages of tourism is one of the main threads running through Selwyn’s text ¹he ¹ourist Image: Myths and Myth Making in ¹ourism (Selwyn, 1996). Here, essays from a variety of authors examine how the tourism industry relies upon the potency of myths to market and sell destinations and attractions. As regards heritage tourism, the important point is that these mythical discourses, these signs of nationhood, help to construct a sense of national identity within the imagination of the visitor. Moreover, in order to understand these myth-symbols and signs, these ‘expressions written by a culture into its landscape’, one requires a knowledge of the language employed and its meaning within that culture’ (Cosgrove, 1989). Thus, the ‘sea’, which can signify ‘remoteness’, ‘invasion’, ‘defiance’, ‘security‘, ‘strength’ and ‘heroism’, is an example of the type of language that, Cosgrove argues, represents the key cultural values of a society (Cosgrove, 1989, p. 128). Likewise, the importance of the ‘castle’ goes far beyond the physical structure that attracts the tourists. It too signifies the nation as ‘ancient’, ‘powerful’, ‘majestic’, ‘strong’ and ‘enduring’ and thereby represents all that is cherished about the nation. A good example of this is Warwick Castle which is described in its brochure as: that fairest monument. . .of ancient and chivalrous splendour which yet remains unchanged by time. . .from its soaring towers to the depths of the dungeon, Warwick Castle epitomises the power and the grandure of the medieval fortress. (Promotional Tourist Brochure, 1996). Similarly, the raising of Henry VIII’s warship, the Mary Rose, in the 1980’s struck a cord of identity within the nation, partly because people were able to follow the
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dramatic scenes of its resurrection on national television. As Wright puts it the Mary Rose reconnects ‘us’ to our national identity through a process of cultural nationalisation where by the ship is held up for communal veneration as a ‘. . .resonance of tradition and continuity with the past’ (Wright, 1985, p. 164). The ship, like the castle is both a physical and a semiological construction of identity which, when combined with the sign of the ‘sea’, says more about the nation’s identity than may at first be apparent. As illustrated by the words of a former Admiral of the Fleet, Lord Chatfield: What do we mean by our sea heritage? it means that which we have inherited from the sea, materially and spiritually — our sea empire and our sea character . . . our sea character came originally through the blood of our Anglo-Saxon ancestors . . . adventurous and sea-faring, ready to face a hostile people on an unknown coast (Chatfield, 1951, p. 55). In a similar vein, tourism’s use of the natural landscape is another means by which identity can be constructed within the imagination. As Cosgrove (1993) and Bender (1993) illustrate, landscape, as a signifying system, is able to contain and convey multiple and often conflicting sets of shared meanings. Likewise, Selwyn, in examining the role of landscpe as a key symbol in the construction of Israeli identity argued, ‘. . .that metaphors drawn from the landscape constitute part of the moral discourse which is used in the wider distinctions we make between ‘us’ and ‘them. . .’ (Selwyn, 1995, p. 119). Thus, for Jewish settlers in Palestine, the land and the landscape became associated with the notions of ‘liberation’ and redemption’ (Selwyn, 1995, p. 114). Such a situation is supported by Duncan and Duncan’s (1988) view that landscapes can not only be ‘read’ like literary texts, but that what they say relates to the social, cultural and historical values of those who prepare them for interpretation. Horne employs the term ‘nationality through landscape’ to explain just such a phenomenon (Harne, 1984, p. 169). The landscapes of heritage tourism can be natural (parks and gardens) as well as physical (country houses and historic places). What the visitor is ‘reading’ when (s)he visits such places is the story of a nation; the symbols and signs of nationhood presented in the form of a literary landscape. A good example is the epithet ‘The Garden of England’, most frequently employed to describe the English county of Kent. Located in Kent is Chartwell, the former home of Winston Churchill. From the windows of the house Churchill ‘. . .could look out over his lawns and grass terraces, past a soaring oak as English as himself’ (Day, 1965, p. 32). In fact, this view of Englishness was the main reason Churchill bought the house: The setting captivated him immediately. . .But most important to Churchill was the panoramic view
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south over the gentle landscape of the Weald of Kent. . . Churchill’s beloved nanny . . . had filled this head with stories of the ‘Garden of England’ . . . On a mistry moring it still speaks powerfully of an older England. . . (Chartwell, 1992, p. 12). Similarly, the tourist brochure for Groombridge Place Gardens in Kent talks of an enchanted forest where ten centuries can be discovered within the seventeenth century walled gardens. The use of ‘forest’ instead of the more usual ‘garden’ not only signifies ‘darkness’, ‘mystery’, ‘wildness’ and again ‘ancient-ness’, but perhaps also indicates that the visitor is among ‘real history’; history that is old, which stretches back into a dim and distant past. History which, to borrow a phrase from Eco (1986), is ‘hyperreal’. Better than ‘real’ history because the landscape is a living breathing monument to the past, rather than one that is static and made of stone, like a castle. Thus, the ‘forest’ is a powerful sign of identity because it signifies the ancient, living ‘land of our father’s’. ‘motherearth’, the ‘homeland’: . . .the walled gardens and estate vineyards is an ancient forest. Forgotten for hundreds of years, its mystical springs-fed pools have only recently been uncovered. . .now you can again step into this captivating land and be amongst the first to experience the birth of an important new garden where past secrets are coming to life, and a new world is being created (Promotional Tourist Brochure, 1996). It seems Barthes is right when he argues that ‘speech of this kind is a message’ (Barthes, 1973, p. 118). In this instance the message individuals are given to read is that they are experiencing something of importance, something that has meaning in terms of who they are. Such messages enable individuals to undertake — in the imagination — the spiritual and historical pilgrimages (described earlier by Smith) to the ‘common myths and historical memories’ that form part of their sense of national identity. In other words, the heritage industry presents a tourism of nationalism where the landscape awaiting to be ‘read’ is the landscape of national identity.
5. The touristic identity The nationalistic ‘messages’ of heritage tourism must, therefore, have an impact on how individuals within that nation conceive of their personal identity and, by the same token, how the nation and its people are perceived by others. As O’Connor argues: . . .individual and personal identities are constructed through interaction with others and determined largely by the ways in which we are perceived and treated by them, so too are cultural and national identities constructed from the representations
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which certain people both inside and outside our culture produce for us. The way in which we see ourselves is substantially determined by the way in which we are seen by others (O’Connor, 1993). The images of tourism thus provide the means by which local people can be identified and encountered. However, the myths and traditions of nationhood that are promoted by the tourism industry may have little to do with the ‘real’ lives of the people, or with how they themselves understand their national identity. Those images that enable tourists to recognise a nation may have been selected for just that purpose and may not have been meant to represent how the local people actually see themselves in the twentieth century. For example, Ireland’s tourist identity is specifically constructed around themes designed to attract overseas visitors. The country is thus represented as a sort of pre-modern society ‘. . .a country of ‘shamrocks’. . .and leprechauns. . .a place of picturesque scenery an unspoiled beauty, of friendly and quaint people, a place which is steeped in past traditions and ways of life’, in a sense a country that is in no particular hurry to catch up with the modern world (O’Connor, 1993, p. 68). Indeed, the heritage industry continually emphasises specific aspects of the past as being representative of what the nation is really all about, or perhaps, what it should be about. For example, Fees argues that the success of the Cotswold town Chipping Campden, revolves around its ability to symbolise a time, a place and a set of values missing from contemporary life. Chipping Campden’s appeal is based on the beauty and antiquity of its buildings and on its historical associations with the rural landscape. In the past tourists came ‘. . .in order to discover and engage with the authenticity of the rural ‘character’, the farmer or farm labourer who carried the wisdom of the soil in his bones and the untutored eloquence of a past era in his speech’ (Fees, 1996, p. 128). Nowadays people come to Campden for much the same reasons, it is seen as a charming pastoral town redolent of Middle England (Selwyn, 1996), a peaceful retreat from modernity. Similarly, the Brighton Fishing Museum neatly combines the past with the present. The museum is located on Brighton’s seafront, next to the ‘arches’ used by presentday fishermen for repairing nets, boats and equipment. The visitors can not only view the old photographs, boats and artefacts from Brighton’s fishing history, but they can also watch the fishermen carrying out the same type of activities described in the museum. On a former visit this writer observe the visitors and the fishermen and noted comments that were made by them. The local fishermen explained how their work attracts considerable attention as visitors like to see them employing the type of skills that seem to epitomise what has been lost by today’s fast-paced, hi-tech society. Such a view is supported by some of the comments in the visitors book,
‘a reminder of how hard life was’, ‘nostalgic, hope it will be preserved for our future generation’ and, finally, ‘fascinating, a real skill’. Furthermore, the fishing industry aptly illustrates the extent to which contemporary society has changed. Ireland reveals how the gradual decline of a local Cornish fishing industry enabled the land and seascape to be utilised as a tourist attraction. In this way the occupation of ‘fisherman’, a difficult and harsh job, was endowed with the myths and legends that were ‘. . .part of the fabric and romanticism of the dangerous occupation of fishing’ (Ireland, 1993, p. 672). Thus, the fishermen’s identity is no longer based on their value as a source of labour, but on their value as cultural artefacts; as symbols of a once economically important occupational community (Ireland, 1993, p. 681). As illustrated by further comments from the Brighton Fishing Museum visitor’s book, ‘sad they’re all gone’, ‘a journey into the past to keep memory of ‘roots’’. The range of attractions discussed here create a nostalgic yearning for something that has been lost forever. As Lowenthal illustrates, ‘. . .people tend to believe that life in the past was ‘happier’ — that families were closer, that pollution was absent, that peace and order prevailed’ (Lowenthal, 1989, p. 28). This does not mean that the owners and managers of heritage sites have not consulted historical sources (upon which they base their presentations), but that their main aim in doing so is to find the elements with which to tell an exciting story. As Game argues, there is little of the ‘history of historians’ in heritage tourism (Game, 1991, p. 154). Indeed, Nairn refers to such heritage stories as synthetic pastness resynthesized as contemporary identity (Nairn, 1988). These stories, with their complex mix of fact and myth, enable national identity to be experienced physically (via the actual buildings) as well as mentally (via the language of the brochures). Thus, Samuel’s comment that the idea of nationality has a real as well as an imaginary existence is not without foundation (Samuel, 1989)
6. Managing the national imagination Sites such as museums, historic theme parks or attractions, offer individuals an opportunity to reaffirm a sense of belonging. These heritage attractions enable visitors to ‘tap-into’ the national vein of identity, to remind themselves of the core components of nationhood in a playful and exciting setting. However, the seeming innocuousness of heritage tourism, that it is about fun and a good day out, should not be underestimated. Yes, visits to attractions, castles and heritage centres are entertaining, as they should be. It is easy to dismiss them as artificial, as presenting stereotypes of people and events and of trivialising history, but they are more important than that. The images of our past, our history, represent who
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we are to ourselves and to ‘others’ and, as such, they should not be taken from us and turned into a theme park. As Barnett argues ‘we should not seek to turn the past into a story. . .’ (Barnett, 1989, p. 140). The main issue here is not that the tourism industry is somehow ‘at fault’. After all, heritage attractions are businesses that operate in a very competitive market place. It is only common sense to utilise the expertise of marketeers, and other professionals, in order to survive. If a good story sells, then, why not? Yet, the problem is that the same, limited range of images are used to compile the story of the nation. The frequency of use and the high profile given to these images, in both national and international marketing campaigns, marks them out as being the main definers of the nation. Alternative, or even contested, interpretations are not so forcefully promoted. Furthermore, in utilising aspects of the past choices are being made about what to include and what to leave out. The danger here is that the full context in which events occurred is pushed aside in the drive to out-do the competition. Moreover, as previously discussed, heritage stories tend to rely on a particular type of language, designed to create an image of nation-ness; both to domestic tourists and to those from overseas. These stories are exciting, romantic and glamorous, able to fill people’s hearts with the warm glow of national pride. Yet the image of nationhood they present is necessarily exclusive, as the stories tend to end where they should begin. These endings are merely one view of the nation, rather than the view. Stories of nationhood should thus extend into the present day (where appropriate) so that some connection can be made with contemporary society. In most cases this would merely entail putting a particular heritage story into it’s wider context, so that visitors could understand how it linked into the present. As the historian David Starkey stated in a recent documentary about King Henry VIII, In his personal transformation from Prince Charming to bloated ogre he became the stuff of legend. . .A one man and six wives band that is a mainstay of the English tourist industry. This is history that’s good for a laugh. But Henry is serious history as well and his actions still present dilemmas to the living. Prince Charles, who agonises about whether he wants to be Defender of the Faith, like Henry, or faiths as he’d prefer. To Tony Blair, as he ponders whether to reverse Henry’s break with Rome and take us back to the heart of Europe... And most of all he challenges us, the English, to decide who and what we are. Mere English, like Henry and his great daughter Elizabeth 1, British as the Stuarts...made us, or Europeans, as we were before Henry and might still be again (Starkey, 1998). Serious history can, and should be, made appealing and interesting. Visitors should be able to appreciate not
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just the fun side of Henry VIII, his status as some kind of English Bluebeard, but also his impact upon English identity. Thus, Phillip Hills’ argument that heritage tourism is antiquity for couch potatoes, that people are not capable of independent enquiry (Hills, 1994), misses the point. The important point is that a more in depth link with the modern world would result in a more enjoyably day out, by highlighting the relevance of the past to the present; the reasons why Henry’s serial marriages matter in the late 20th century. What is needed, therefore, is more of the history of historians, not less. Thereby helping to ensure that greater emphasis is placed upon the implications of history, not just its entertainment value. Particularly since, as Starkey illustrates above, aspects of our past can profoundly influence how we choose to define ourselves in the present.
7. Conclusion It is clear that the relationship between heritage tourism and national identity is an important area for research and debate. A better appreciation of the way in which these two areas interact can only lead to a more in depth awareness of how national identity is formed and how it can change over time. However, heritage tourism’s influence in helping to both shape and control the nation’s identity has not really been adequately recognised. This highlights the usefulness of the concept of semiology. It enables the underlying, and perhaps less obvious, meanings behind the images on display to be more fully understood. Indeed, the suggested themes, the signs and symbols of the nation, that run through the discourse of heritage tourism are interelated with the elements of national identity discussed earlier by Smith, Renan and Anderson. They act as signifiers of the nation as a community with common beliefs, an historic homeland and as a common culture with legal rights and duties handed down through time. As such, they engender the sense of collective immortality and dignity that Smith maintains is an essential part of a national identity. Above all, however, they serve to create the imagined community of Anderson through their appeal to the perceived moral values of the nation: faith, virtue, honour and courage in the face of adversity. In so doing they create the sense of a ‘deep horizontal comradeship’ that Anderson argues is what makes people prepared to lay down their lives for their country. The language of heritage tourism enables a particular type of self to be atriculated and publicly recognised. It is, therefore, a powerful force in the construction, promotion and maintenance of a national identity because it illuminates the historic symbols of the nation’s identity and holds them up for communal veneration; rather in the manner of H.V. Morton when he asserts ‘in a restless world that changes often for the sake of change you feel in little places such as Ripon that you touch the sturdy
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roots of England firmly locked in a distant and important past’ (Morton, 1928, p. 64). Heritage tourism is thus more representative of who we were, than it is of who we are. However, tourist images do not operate in isolation, they are part and parcel of alternative visions of the nation, such as those emanating from the political or sporting arena. Yet their status as ‘sacred centres’ of nationhood ensures they remain the most high profile and thus, arguably, the most influential. As Dawson states, the National heritage industry has focused on a version of nationhood dependent upon all things royal and historical. While this version may not be the only view of nation-ness, ‘. . .it remains the most common way that our culture is represented to the rest of the world — and the most profitable’ (Dawson, 1997, p. 318). Perhaps heritage tourism should consider following the Culture Secretary’s lead and rename itself cultural tourism. Thereby enabling different and more contemporary visions of nationhood to be acknowledged and promoted.
References Anderson, B. (1991). Imagined communities (2nd ed.). London: Verso. Ashworth, G. J. (1994). From history to heritage: From heritage to identity: In search of concepts and models. In G. J. Ashworth, & P. J. Larkham (Eds.), Building a new heritage. ¹ourism, culture and identity in the new Europe (pp. 13—30). London: Routledge. Barnett, A. (1989). After nationalism. In R. Samuel (Ed.), Patriotism the making and unmaking of British national identity, »ol. 1: History and politics (pp. 140—155). London: Routledge. Barthes, R. (1973). Mythologies (p. 117). London: Paladin. Barthes, R. (1979). ¹he Eiffel tower and other mythologies (pp. 3, 4). New York: Hill and Wang. Bender, B. (1993). Stonehenge — contested landscapes (medieval to present-day). In B. Bender (Ed.), ¸andscape: Politics and perspectives (pp. 246—279). Oxford: Berg. Chartwell (1992). The National Trust, London. 12. Chatfield, L. (1951). Our sea heritage. In Our way of life: ¹welve aspects of the British heritage (pp. 55—68) Country Life. Country Life Magazine, London. Clifford, J. (1988). ¹he predicament of culture (p. 14). MA: Harvard University Press. Connor, W. (1994). A nation is a nation, is a state, is an ethnic group, is a... . In J. Hutchinson, & A. D. Smith (Eds.), Nationalism (pp. 36—46). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Cosgrove, D. (1989). Geography is everywhere: Culture and symbolism in human landscapes. In D. Gregory, & R. Walford (Eds.), Horizons in human geography (pp. 118—135). New Jersey: Banes and Noble. Cosgrove, D. (1993). Landscapes and myths, gods and humans. In B. Bender (Ed.), ¸andscape: Politics and perspectives (pp. 281—325). Oxford: Berg. Dann, G. (1996). ¹he language of tourism (p. 218). Wallingford: CAB International. Dawson, R. (1997). Conclusion: Present and future Britain. In M. Storry, & P. Childs (Eds.), British cultural identities (pp. 315—329). London: Routledge. Day, J. (1965). Inside Chartwell. Ford ¹imes, 32. Deely, J. (1990). Basics of semiotics. Indiana: Indiana University Press. Duncan, J., & Duncan, N. (1988). (Re)reading the landscape. Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 6, 117—126.
Eade, J. (1997). Identity, nation and religion. Educated young Bangladeshi muslims in London’s east end. In J. Eade (Ed.), ¸iving the global city. Globalization as a local process (pp. 146—162). London: Routledge. Eco, U. (1986). Faith in fakes. (William Weaver, Trans.). London: Secker and Warburg. ETB/BTA. (1996/7). Insights. Marketing intelligence service (Vol. 8). London. Evans, C. (1997). Curry and chic in the cool guide to Britain. Daily Mail, January 7th, 11. Fees, C. (1996). Tourism and the politics of authenticity in a North Cotswold Town. In T. Selwyn (Ed.), ¹he tourist image. Myths and myth making in tourism (pp. 121—146). Chichester: Wiley. Game, A. (1991). ºndoing the social: ¹owards a deconstructive sociology (p. 154). Milton Keynes: Open University Press. Gellner, E. (1983). Nations and nationalism. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Gold, J. R., & Ward, S. V. (1994). Place promotion. ¹he use of publicity and marketing to sell towns and regions. Chichester: Wiley. Hills, P. (1994). The cultural potency of Scotland. In J. M. Fladmark (Ed.), Cultural tourism (pp. 89—100). London: Donhead. Horne, D. (1984). ¹he great museum: ¹he re-presentation of history (p. 166). London: Pluto. Ireland, M. (1993). Gender and class relations in tourism employment. Annals of ¹ourism Research, 20(4), 666—684. Jenkins, S. (1993). The politics of giving thanks. ¹he ¹imes, Saturday 27 November, 16. Kedourie, E. (1960). Nationalism. London: Hutchinson. Lanfant, M-F. (1995). Introduction. In M-F. Lanfant, J.B. Allcock, & E. M. Bruner (Eds.), International tourism: Identity and change (pp. 1—23). London: Sage. Lowenthal, D. (1989). Nostalgia tells it like it wasn’t. In C. Shaw, & M. Chase (Eds.), ¹he imagined past: History and nostalgia (pp. 18—32). Manchester: Manchester University Press. MacCannell, D. (1989). ¹he tourist: A new theory of the leisure class (2nd ed.). New York: Schocken. (originally published 1976). McCrone, D. (1992). ºnderstanding Scotland: ¹he sociology of a stateles nation. (pp. 93—115). London: Routledge. McCrone, D., Morris, A., & Kiely, R. (1995). SCO¹¸AND- the brand. ¹he making of Scottish heritage (p. 184). Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. Mellor, A. (1991). Enterprise and heritage in the dock. In J. Corner, & S. Harvey (Eds.), Enterprise and heritage. Crosscurrents of national culture (pp. 93—115). London: Routledge. Morton, H. V. (1928). ¹he call of England (p. 64). London: Methuen. Nairn, T. (1988). ¹he enchanted glass: Britain and its monarchy (p. 127). London: Century Hutchinson. Newsnight (1998). BBC 2, 24th April. O’Connor, B. (1993). Myths and mirrors: Tourist images and national identity. In B. O’Connor, & M. Cronin (Eds.), ¹ourism in Ireland: A critical analysis (pp. 68—85). Cork: Cork University Press. Promotional Tourist Brochure (1993). Defence of the realm (p. 1). Gosport: South-east England Tourist Board. Promotional Tourist Brochure (1996). Penshurst place and gardens. Tonbridge: Addax Publishing. Promotional Tourist Brochure (1996). ¼arwick castle. Sutton Coldfield: Trinity Design. Promotional Tourist Brochure (1996). Groombridge place gardens. Tunbridge Wells. Renan, E. (1990). What is a nation? (original lecture given in Paris 1882) In H. K. Bhabha (Ed.), Nation and narration (pp. 8—22). London: Routledge. Samuel, R. (Ed.) (1989). Patriotism the making and unmaking of British national identity, vol. 1: History and politics (p. iv.). London: Routledge. Selwyn, T. (1995). Landscapes of liberation and imprisonment: Towards an anthropology of the Israeli landscape. In E. Hirsch, & M. O’Hanlon ¹he Anthropology of the landscape (pp. 114—134). Oxford: Oxford University Press.
C. Palmer / Tourism Management 20 (1999) 313—321 Selwyn, T. (Ed.). (1996). ¹he tourist image. Myths and myth making in tourism. Chichester: Wiley. Seton-Watson, H. (1977). Nations and states. London: Methuen. Smith, A. D. (1983). ¹heories of nationalism (3rd ed.). London: Duckworth. Smith, A. D. (1991). National identity. London: Penguin. Starkey, D. (1998). Henry VIII. Channel 4, 29th March. Sternberg, E. (1997). The iconography of the tourism experience. Annals of ¹ourism Research, 24(4), 951—996.
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Tourism and the symbols of identity Catherine Palmer* Department of Service Sector Management, University of Brighton, 49 Darley Road, Eastbourne, East Sussex, UK Received May 1998; accepted August 1998
Abstract This article discusses some of the issues surrounding the relationship between heritage tourism and national identity (focusing upon England). It argues that heritage tourism is a powerful force in the construction and maintenance of a national identity because it relies upon the historic symbols of the nation as a means of attracting tourists. Thus, the tourism industry, through its use of ‘our heritage’, becomes yet another means by which contemporary concepts of nation-ness are defined. Such a position has implications for the way in which sites are managed and promoted. 1999 Elsevier Science Ltd. All rights reserved. Keywords: Tourism; Heritage; National identity; Semiology
1. Introduction Identity almost everywhere has to be produced partly out of the images constructed or reproduced for tourists, including the image of being a place. . . . . which is on the global tourist map (Urry, 1994). Questions such as ‘who are we’? and ‘where do we fit in’? are becoming increasingly common in today’s world. Shifting boundaries, loyalties and spaces are evident in the conflicts and disputes that have arisen since the end of the second world war. Current debates within the European Union, over issues such as Maastricht and a single currency, have highlighted the strength of feeling among people who consider their national sovereignty to be at risk. As exemplified by Tony Blair’s recent speech to the French National Assembly which made specific reference to the fact that many people in Europe feared greater integration would affect their sense of national identity (The Financial Times, 1998). Indeed, in Britain, the subject of English identity has been the focus of much media attention. According to the journalist Jeremy Paxman recent referenda results, enabling the Scots and the Welsh to obtain a measure of democratic independence
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from Westminster, have led many English people to ask themselves what it is that makes them who they are (Newsnight, 1998). However, such concerns are not always containable in media debates and discussions. Many of the conflicts on the world stage today are directly attributable to the desire to belong to an identifiable group, recognised by others as being a legitimate group. For example, in the former Yugoslavia and among the Kurds of northern Turkey and Iraq. Consequently, debates dealing with issues of nationalism and national identity are arguably amongst the most important of this age. National identity and nationalism are in a sense separate but related concepts and it is never easy to discuss one without passing over the boundaries of the other. This shifting dichotomy highlights the first difficulty. That is the many, varied and complex theories of nationality, the nation and nationalism which have been proposed over the years by scholars such as Kedourie (1960) SetonWatson (1997), Gellner (1983), Smith (1983, 1991) and Anderson (1991). However, it is not the intention here to enter into a lengthy debate about theories of nationalism generally, but rather to discuss those aspects that relate to the concept of national identity, how it develops, is communicated and reproduced. The overall aim, then, is to use this discussion as an opportunity to consider some of the main interconnected themes that help to construct a national identity. In addition, the article will examine some of the underlying meanings behind the images
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of heritage tourism (focusing upon England) and the implications of these for the tourism industry.
2. The making of a nation Before discussing these latter points it is necessary to introduce the overall context within which this article is set, the emergence and growth of nations and of nationality. Connor maintains that conceptualizing a nation is difficult because the essence of a nation is intangible. And yet it is this essence, this psychological bond, that joins a people while at the same time differentiating them from all others (Connor, 1994). Renan describes this essence as a soul, a spiritual principle whereby a nation is the culmination of a long past of endeavours, sacrifice and devotion; a grand solidarity of members who wish to live a communal life (Renan, 1990). This idea of community is taken further by Smith who argues that a nation is first and foremost thought of as a community of common descent behind which are certain beliefs about what constitutes a nation, as opposed to any other type of collective cultural identity (Smith, 1991). These beliefs are described by Smith as a historic territory, or homeland, common myths and historical memories, a common mass public culture and common legal rights and duties for all members (Smith, 1991, p. 14). Such elements help to construct a national identity. Anderson further argues that nationality and nationness are cultural artefacts of an imagined political community that is both limited and sovereign. This imagined community came to exist in the imagination of people as a result of the technological and economic changes that produced capitalist societies. For Anderson, the nation is part of an imagined political community precisely because’. . . . . members of even the smallest nation will never know most of their fellow-members, meet them or even hear them. . . , (Anderson, 1991, p. 6). National identity is thus a communion experienced through immediate family, friends and neighbours, rather than through association with the entire nation. Which, of course, would be an impossibility. Anderson further maintains that the imagined nation is also limited — has finite, if elastic, boundaries, beyond which lie other nations, and also sovereign — autonomous from other states in terms of its internal legislative power. The individual’s experience of this imagined, limited and sovereign, national community is what Tomlinson refers to as ‘the sense of national identity’ (Tomlinson, 1991, p. 80). What is important here is that individuals come to identify themselves in relation to a nation composed of people with similar ways of behaving, communicating and thinking; what Gellner refers to as a mixture of loyalty and identification leading to a willed adherence to the rules of the group (Gellner, 1983). This ‘willed adherence’ is described by Renan as a daily plebiscite whereby
individuals affirm their desire to continue a common life (Renan, 1990, p. 19); in other words, consents to the existence of the nation as a large-scale solidarity to which they choose to belong. For Smith, this national will is important because a nation can only exist if everyone accepts the aspirations, sentiments and goals of the nation. Which does not mean that different interpretations cannot be accommodated, but that the overall ‘raison d’etre’ of the nation must be accepted by all; what Rousseau has called ‘the national character’ (Smith, 1991, p. 75). This pride, this sentiment, this character, are arguably what make a people a nation, what endow them with a national identity. They are the ideals embodied in the national symbols, ceremonies and customs of a nation. They are the concepts that make the nation visible and distinct for every member and which help to communicate the nation to others: They include the obvious attributes of nations — flags, anthems, parades, coinage, capital cities, oaths. . .museums of folklore, war memorials. . . passports, frontiers — as well as more hidden aspects, such as national recreations, the countryside, popular heroes and heroines, fairy tales. . .all these distinctive customs, mores, styles and ways of acting and feeling that are shared by the members of a community of historical culture (Smith, 1991, p. 77). A nation is all these things, and it is through these symbols that the ‘deep horizontal comradeship’ of Anderson is communicated and translated into what can be termed a sense of national pride (Anderson, 1991, p. 7). Nevertheless, what constitutes national identity can change over time, the criteria on which it is based are not fixed indefinitely. As Clifford illustrates, 20th-century identities no longer presuppose continuous cultures or traditions. Everywhere individuals and groups improvise local performances from (re) collected pasts, drawing on foreign media, symbols, and languages (Clifford, 1988). Likewise, multiple identities can (and do) exist alongside each other. For example, those that are based on an individual’s gender, religion, place of birth or even occupation. Indeed, Eade has shown how young Bangladeshi Muslims who describe themselves as ‘British’ do so as part of a complex mix of national and religious identities that link them to a variety of diverse ‘homelands’ (Eade, 1997). Definitions of identity in this instance are based around the cultural and religious ties of Islam and Bangldesh, rather than around those of England or Great Britain. A national identity is thus a very personal concept as individual’s draw upon the differing identities available to them in order to construct their own sense of who they are and how they fit in. Moreover, the previous comment by Clifford enables the link between identity and tourism to become more obvious, since the tourism industry, through its packaging of selected symbols of identity as
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‘our heritage’, is an example of the type of ‘groups’ to which Clifford was referring. Tourism’s images of nationhood thus provide individuals with yet another means by which they can understand who they are and where they have come from. This does not mean that the images on show reflect values that are still acceptable today, they may, or they may not. Rather, they indicate the components that have evolved through the years into present day interpretations of nationhood. In identifying with these components domestic tourists are making the connection between themselves and the nation. While overseas visitors see them as the distinctive mark of a nation (Lanfant, 1995). As Smith argues, heritage attractions are ‘sacred centres’, objects of spiritual and historical pilgrimage, that reveal the uniqueness of their nation’s ‘moral geography’ (Smith, 1991, p. 16). What is needed therefore, is an examination of the use of such ‘(re)collected pasts’ and of their influence on contemporary concepts of nation-ness.
3. Tourism as identity As illustrated above, the symbols that help to construct and to convey a sense of national identity are imagined to lie at the heart of a nation’s soul. Questions concerning the way such symbols are used are of particular salience for countries, like England, that rely upon them as the means of attracting tourists to their shores. Heritage, the ‘buzz’ word of the 1990s, is employed to promote tourism to a variety of different destinations. Its main aim is thus the packaging of an identity for sale to tourists; or, as Horne argues, nationality is ‘. . .one of the principle colourings of the tourist vision’ (Horne, 1984, p. 166). A nation’s history, or heritage is only one of the elements that combine to form a national identity. Others include language, political affiliation, race and religion. Yet the tourism industry has been criticized for selecting and promoting certain aspects of the past as if they were ‘a unified phenomenon representative of the nation’ (Walsh, 1990, p. 178). In a similar vein, Samuel argues that the tourism industry markets a particular version of Englishness’ . . . in which the country is caught in a time-warp and people comport themselves as a folk’ (Samuel, 1989, p. iv). Thus whole regions and towns are renamed: Suffolk becomes ‘Constable Country’, North Yorkshire is now ‘Captain Cook Country’ and Battle is no longer a town in Sussex but in ‘1066 Country’ (Gold & Ward, 1994). More importantly, perhaps, the heritage label has become an important means of attracting visitors to a variety of places, from industrial manufacturing sites to the homes of writers and poets. Thus, words such as historic, nostalgia and heritage are frequently seen on tourist brochures, as are phrases such as ‘a treasured part of Britain’s heritage’ and ‘the birth place of
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England’. Prompting Mellor to lament ‘it is certainly true that ‘heritage’ has become a little too inclusive’ (Mellor, 1991, p. 98). Such words and phrases are not merely examples of nostalgia-arousal, they also promote an idea of nation (Walsh, 1990). They create an awareness of the foundations upon which this nation’s identity rests. As Ashworth argues, the past, as heritage, is a potent marketing strategy because it can define a national identity through a few selected stereotypes of people, places and mythologies (Ashworth, 1994). While it is accepted that England, as a part of Great Britain, is about more than images of an ancient and historic past, the heritage is still considered its key resource, particularly for attracting overseas tourists (ETB/BTA, 1996/7). Indeed, even though the British Tourist Authority’s alternative guide to Britain concentrates on promoting the country’s pop music culture, its fashion and night life, references to heritage are still used as the hook to bring people in (Evans, 1997). One reason why heritage tourism is so popular and enduring is because the images presented reveal a past that people can recognise as belonging to them. It unites and is timeless. It represents a lifestyle perceived to have been better, more fulfilling and community driven. Where man and nature worked together side by side, hand in hand. Such a past is created through ‘a closely held iconography of what it is to be English’ (Wright, 1985, p. 2). Landscapes, castles, country houses and their associated paraphenalia of everyday life, are presented as embodying the essence of nationhood. They thus provide visitors with both a physical and an experiential link with a nation and its people (Sternberg, 1997). It is, therefore, important to examine how such a connection is engendered and any influence it may have upon the creation and maintenance of identity. As McCrone argues, ‘the question to ask is not how best do cultural forms reflect an essential national identity, but how do cultural forms actually help to construct and shape identity. . .’ (McCrone, 1992, p. 195). Such issues provide the focus for the ensuing discussion.
4. Symbols of identity One way of approaching McCrone’s question is via the concept of semiology. The study of the use and interpretation of symbols and signs within contemporary society (Deely, 1990). This concept was first adapted for the tourism industry by Dean McCannell (1989) in his seminal text ¹he ¹ourist. Here MacCannell argues that tourist attractions are, in fact, signs that represent something to someone. Thus, Thanksgiving is one of the most
See current tourist brochures for Hever Castle and the town of Battle.
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potent symbols of Americanness. (Jenkins, 1993). Edinburgh Castle stands for Scotland (McCrone et al., 1995). While the Eiffel Tower symbolises Paris, ‘. . .it is everywhere on the globe where Paris is to be stated as an image. . .it is the major sign of a people and of a place: it belongs to the universal language of travel’ (Barthes, 1979, pp. 3, 4). The key point about such signs is their ability to convey meaning, to transmit very particular messages about a nation, it’s culture. As Graham Dann argues, nostalgia tourism aims to answer the question ‘who am I?’ in terms of ‘who was I’ (Dann, 1996). Thus, the tourism industry relies upon a form of nationalistic rhetoric as a way of conveying images and meanings about what it considers to be the nation’s communal heritage. Nowhere is this more eloquently expressed than in the promotional brochure entitled Defence of the Realm, which offers guided tours to sites of military and historic interest: The triumphs of Agincourt and adventures of Empire, when Henry VIII built castles and Nelson Fell, when Spitfires held firm and the Dunkirk Spirit was forged, a window onto the rest of the world and into the past. . . these images present a few dramatic snapshots of the episodes which make-up the turbulent history of our island realm. . . by touring the sites. . . you can uncover the ambitions and achievements of this country through stories of fear and hardship, faith and courage. (Promotional Tourist Brochure, 1993, p. 1). This heritage, the national symbols, ceremonies and customs of a nation, thus provide an almost inexhaustible supply of material which can be appropriated and adapted for the purpose of creating a distinctive sense of nationhood for tourists. It is this idea of nation which is so powerfully present in the language of heritage of tourism. As illustrated by the promotional brochure for Penshurst Place in Kent, the home of the Viscount De L’Isle, which states that, ‘the house has been the natal home of poetry, romance, patriotism — the theatre of sumptuous hospitality — the abode of chivalry and the resting place of virtue and honour’ (Promotional Tourist Brochure, 1996). Consequently, tourism’s use of identity goes far beyond the commercial it goes to the heart of a people becaue it serves to define their cultural identity and to make this visible, both to themselves, and to ‘others’. Furthermore, cultural identity underpins national identity as it communicates the past and present traditions and mores of a people, thus enabling them to be identified as a distinctive group. As illustrated by Renan: to have common glories in the past and to have a common will in the present; to have performed great deeds together, to wish to perform still more — these are the essential conditions for being a people (Renan, 1990, p. 19).
As previously suggested the language of heritage tourism enables it to create its own set of touristic ‘sacred centres’. These centres highlight the type of themes that are continually reappearing within heritage tourism and which are used to symbolise the nation, identity, a people. They include references to the physical environment such as the sea, country houses, castles and landscapes, as well as to the moral characteristics of virture, faith, honour and courage. All these elements are, in a sense, metonymic signs for the type of characteristics that are deemed to be present in the English character. As such, they help to construct the image of the nation, discussed earlier by Smith, as being a community of common descent. Such a view draws upon the work of Roland Barthes who argues that a myth is a type of language, a type of speech that serves to represent aspects of a culture to individuals, ‘. . .myth cannot possibly be an object, a concept, or an idea; it is mode of signification. . .’ (Barthes, 1973, p. 117). Furthermore, as Smith and Renan have indicated, myths are central to the concept of national identity and the language of myth is also an important part of heritage tourism, as the previous quotes illustrate. Indeed, the relationship between myths and the semiotic messages of tourism is one of the main threads running through Selwyn’s text ¹he ¹ourist Image: Myths and Myth Making in ¹ourism (Selwyn, 1996). Here, essays from a variety of authors examine how the tourism industry relies upon the potency of myths to market and sell destinations and attractions. As regards heritage tourism, the important point is that these mythical discourses, these signs of nationhood, help to construct a sense of national identity within the imagination of the visitor. Moreover, in order to understand these myth-symbols and signs, these ‘expressions written by a culture into its landscape’, one requires a knowledge of the language employed and its meaning within that culture’ (Cosgrove, 1989). Thus, the ‘sea’, which can signify ‘remoteness’, ‘invasion’, ‘defiance’, ‘security‘, ‘strength’ and ‘heroism’, is an example of the type of language that, Cosgrove argues, represents the key cultural values of a society (Cosgrove, 1989, p. 128). Likewise, the importance of the ‘castle’ goes far beyond the physical structure that attracts the tourists. It too signifies the nation as ‘ancient’, ‘powerful’, ‘majestic’, ‘strong’ and ‘enduring’ and thereby represents all that is cherished about the nation. A good example of this is Warwick Castle which is described in its brochure as: that fairest monument. . .of ancient and chivalrous splendour which yet remains unchanged by time. . .from its soaring towers to the depths of the dungeon, Warwick Castle epitomises the power and the grandure of the medieval fortress. (Promotional Tourist Brochure, 1996). Similarly, the raising of Henry VIII’s warship, the Mary Rose, in the 1980’s struck a cord of identity within the nation, partly because people were able to follow the
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dramatic scenes of its resurrection on national television. As Wright puts it the Mary Rose reconnects ‘us’ to our national identity through a process of cultural nationalisation where by the ship is held up for communal veneration as a ‘. . .resonance of tradition and continuity with the past’ (Wright, 1985, p. 164). The ship, like the castle is both a physical and a semiological construction of identity which, when combined with the sign of the ‘sea’, says more about the nation’s identity than may at first be apparent. As illustrated by the words of a former Admiral of the Fleet, Lord Chatfield: What do we mean by our sea heritage? it means that which we have inherited from the sea, materially and spiritually — our sea empire and our sea character . . . our sea character came originally through the blood of our Anglo-Saxon ancestors . . . adventurous and sea-faring, ready to face a hostile people on an unknown coast (Chatfield, 1951, p. 55). In a similar vein, tourism’s use of the natural landscape is another means by which identity can be constructed within the imagination. As Cosgrove (1993) and Bender (1993) illustrate, landscape, as a signifying system, is able to contain and convey multiple and often conflicting sets of shared meanings. Likewise, Selwyn, in examining the role of landscpe as a key symbol in the construction of Israeli identity argued, ‘. . .that metaphors drawn from the landscape constitute part of the moral discourse which is used in the wider distinctions we make between ‘us’ and ‘them. . .’ (Selwyn, 1995, p. 119). Thus, for Jewish settlers in Palestine, the land and the landscape became associated with the notions of ‘liberation’ and redemption’ (Selwyn, 1995, p. 114). Such a situation is supported by Duncan and Duncan’s (1988) view that landscapes can not only be ‘read’ like literary texts, but that what they say relates to the social, cultural and historical values of those who prepare them for interpretation. Horne employs the term ‘nationality through landscape’ to explain just such a phenomenon (Harne, 1984, p. 169). The landscapes of heritage tourism can be natural (parks and gardens) as well as physical (country houses and historic places). What the visitor is ‘reading’ when (s)he visits such places is the story of a nation; the symbols and signs of nationhood presented in the form of a literary landscape. A good example is the epithet ‘The Garden of England’, most frequently employed to describe the English county of Kent. Located in Kent is Chartwell, the former home of Winston Churchill. From the windows of the house Churchill ‘. . .could look out over his lawns and grass terraces, past a soaring oak as English as himself’ (Day, 1965, p. 32). In fact, this view of Englishness was the main reason Churchill bought the house: The setting captivated him immediately. . .But most important to Churchill was the panoramic view
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south over the gentle landscape of the Weald of Kent. . . Churchill’s beloved nanny . . . had filled this head with stories of the ‘Garden of England’ . . . On a mistry moring it still speaks powerfully of an older England. . . (Chartwell, 1992, p. 12). Similarly, the tourist brochure for Groombridge Place Gardens in Kent talks of an enchanted forest where ten centuries can be discovered within the seventeenth century walled gardens. The use of ‘forest’ instead of the more usual ‘garden’ not only signifies ‘darkness’, ‘mystery’, ‘wildness’ and again ‘ancient-ness’, but perhaps also indicates that the visitor is among ‘real history’; history that is old, which stretches back into a dim and distant past. History which, to borrow a phrase from Eco (1986), is ‘hyperreal’. Better than ‘real’ history because the landscape is a living breathing monument to the past, rather than one that is static and made of stone, like a castle. Thus, the ‘forest’ is a powerful sign of identity because it signifies the ancient, living ‘land of our father’s’. ‘motherearth’, the ‘homeland’: . . .the walled gardens and estate vineyards is an ancient forest. Forgotten for hundreds of years, its mystical springs-fed pools have only recently been uncovered. . .now you can again step into this captivating land and be amongst the first to experience the birth of an important new garden where past secrets are coming to life, and a new world is being created (Promotional Tourist Brochure, 1996). It seems Barthes is right when he argues that ‘speech of this kind is a message’ (Barthes, 1973, p. 118). In this instance the message individuals are given to read is that they are experiencing something of importance, something that has meaning in terms of who they are. Such messages enable individuals to undertake — in the imagination — the spiritual and historical pilgrimages (described earlier by Smith) to the ‘common myths and historical memories’ that form part of their sense of national identity. In other words, the heritage industry presents a tourism of nationalism where the landscape awaiting to be ‘read’ is the landscape of national identity.
5. The touristic identity The nationalistic ‘messages’ of heritage tourism must, therefore, have an impact on how individuals within that nation conceive of their personal identity and, by the same token, how the nation and its people are perceived by others. As O’Connor argues: . . .individual and personal identities are constructed through interaction with others and determined largely by the ways in which we are perceived and treated by them, so too are cultural and national identities constructed from the representations
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which certain people both inside and outside our culture produce for us. The way in which we see ourselves is substantially determined by the way in which we are seen by others (O’Connor, 1993). The images of tourism thus provide the means by which local people can be identified and encountered. However, the myths and traditions of nationhood that are promoted by the tourism industry may have little to do with the ‘real’ lives of the people, or with how they themselves understand their national identity. Those images that enable tourists to recognise a nation may have been selected for just that purpose and may not have been meant to represent how the local people actually see themselves in the twentieth century. For example, Ireland’s tourist identity is specifically constructed around themes designed to attract overseas visitors. The country is thus represented as a sort of pre-modern society ‘. . .a country of ‘shamrocks’. . .and leprechauns. . .a place of picturesque scenery an unspoiled beauty, of friendly and quaint people, a place which is steeped in past traditions and ways of life’, in a sense a country that is in no particular hurry to catch up with the modern world (O’Connor, 1993, p. 68). Indeed, the heritage industry continually emphasises specific aspects of the past as being representative of what the nation is really all about, or perhaps, what it should be about. For example, Fees argues that the success of the Cotswold town Chipping Campden, revolves around its ability to symbolise a time, a place and a set of values missing from contemporary life. Chipping Campden’s appeal is based on the beauty and antiquity of its buildings and on its historical associations with the rural landscape. In the past tourists came ‘. . .in order to discover and engage with the authenticity of the rural ‘character’, the farmer or farm labourer who carried the wisdom of the soil in his bones and the untutored eloquence of a past era in his speech’ (Fees, 1996, p. 128). Nowadays people come to Campden for much the same reasons, it is seen as a charming pastoral town redolent of Middle England (Selwyn, 1996), a peaceful retreat from modernity. Similarly, the Brighton Fishing Museum neatly combines the past with the present. The museum is located on Brighton’s seafront, next to the ‘arches’ used by presentday fishermen for repairing nets, boats and equipment. The visitors can not only view the old photographs, boats and artefacts from Brighton’s fishing history, but they can also watch the fishermen carrying out the same type of activities described in the museum. On a former visit this writer observe the visitors and the fishermen and noted comments that were made by them. The local fishermen explained how their work attracts considerable attention as visitors like to see them employing the type of skills that seem to epitomise what has been lost by today’s fast-paced, hi-tech society. Such a view is supported by some of the comments in the visitors book,
‘a reminder of how hard life was’, ‘nostalgic, hope it will be preserved for our future generation’ and, finally, ‘fascinating, a real skill’. Furthermore, the fishing industry aptly illustrates the extent to which contemporary society has changed. Ireland reveals how the gradual decline of a local Cornish fishing industry enabled the land and seascape to be utilised as a tourist attraction. In this way the occupation of ‘fisherman’, a difficult and harsh job, was endowed with the myths and legends that were ‘. . .part of the fabric and romanticism of the dangerous occupation of fishing’ (Ireland, 1993, p. 672). Thus, the fishermen’s identity is no longer based on their value as a source of labour, but on their value as cultural artefacts; as symbols of a once economically important occupational community (Ireland, 1993, p. 681). As illustrated by further comments from the Brighton Fishing Museum visitor’s book, ‘sad they’re all gone’, ‘a journey into the past to keep memory of ‘roots’’. The range of attractions discussed here create a nostalgic yearning for something that has been lost forever. As Lowenthal illustrates, ‘. . .people tend to believe that life in the past was ‘happier’ — that families were closer, that pollution was absent, that peace and order prevailed’ (Lowenthal, 1989, p. 28). This does not mean that the owners and managers of heritage sites have not consulted historical sources (upon which they base their presentations), but that their main aim in doing so is to find the elements with which to tell an exciting story. As Game argues, there is little of the ‘history of historians’ in heritage tourism (Game, 1991, p. 154). Indeed, Nairn refers to such heritage stories as synthetic pastness resynthesized as contemporary identity (Nairn, 1988). These stories, with their complex mix of fact and myth, enable national identity to be experienced physically (via the actual buildings) as well as mentally (via the language of the brochures). Thus, Samuel’s comment that the idea of nationality has a real as well as an imaginary existence is not without foundation (Samuel, 1989)
6. Managing the national imagination Sites such as museums, historic theme parks or attractions, offer individuals an opportunity to reaffirm a sense of belonging. These heritage attractions enable visitors to ‘tap-into’ the national vein of identity, to remind themselves of the core components of nationhood in a playful and exciting setting. However, the seeming innocuousness of heritage tourism, that it is about fun and a good day out, should not be underestimated. Yes, visits to attractions, castles and heritage centres are entertaining, as they should be. It is easy to dismiss them as artificial, as presenting stereotypes of people and events and of trivialising history, but they are more important than that. The images of our past, our history, represent who
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we are to ourselves and to ‘others’ and, as such, they should not be taken from us and turned into a theme park. As Barnett argues ‘we should not seek to turn the past into a story. . .’ (Barnett, 1989, p. 140). The main issue here is not that the tourism industry is somehow ‘at fault’. After all, heritage attractions are businesses that operate in a very competitive market place. It is only common sense to utilise the expertise of marketeers, and other professionals, in order to survive. If a good story sells, then, why not? Yet, the problem is that the same, limited range of images are used to compile the story of the nation. The frequency of use and the high profile given to these images, in both national and international marketing campaigns, marks them out as being the main definers of the nation. Alternative, or even contested, interpretations are not so forcefully promoted. Furthermore, in utilising aspects of the past choices are being made about what to include and what to leave out. The danger here is that the full context in which events occurred is pushed aside in the drive to out-do the competition. Moreover, as previously discussed, heritage stories tend to rely on a particular type of language, designed to create an image of nation-ness; both to domestic tourists and to those from overseas. These stories are exciting, romantic and glamorous, able to fill people’s hearts with the warm glow of national pride. Yet the image of nationhood they present is necessarily exclusive, as the stories tend to end where they should begin. These endings are merely one view of the nation, rather than the view. Stories of nationhood should thus extend into the present day (where appropriate) so that some connection can be made with contemporary society. In most cases this would merely entail putting a particular heritage story into it’s wider context, so that visitors could understand how it linked into the present. As the historian David Starkey stated in a recent documentary about King Henry VIII, In his personal transformation from Prince Charming to bloated ogre he became the stuff of legend. . .A one man and six wives band that is a mainstay of the English tourist industry. This is history that’s good for a laugh. But Henry is serious history as well and his actions still present dilemmas to the living. Prince Charles, who agonises about whether he wants to be Defender of the Faith, like Henry, or faiths as he’d prefer. To Tony Blair, as he ponders whether to reverse Henry’s break with Rome and take us back to the heart of Europe... And most of all he challenges us, the English, to decide who and what we are. Mere English, like Henry and his great daughter Elizabeth 1, British as the Stuarts...made us, or Europeans, as we were before Henry and might still be again (Starkey, 1998). Serious history can, and should be, made appealing and interesting. Visitors should be able to appreciate not
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just the fun side of Henry VIII, his status as some kind of English Bluebeard, but also his impact upon English identity. Thus, Phillip Hills’ argument that heritage tourism is antiquity for couch potatoes, that people are not capable of independent enquiry (Hills, 1994), misses the point. The important point is that a more in depth link with the modern world would result in a more enjoyably day out, by highlighting the relevance of the past to the present; the reasons why Henry’s serial marriages matter in the late 20th century. What is needed, therefore, is more of the history of historians, not less. Thereby helping to ensure that greater emphasis is placed upon the implications of history, not just its entertainment value. Particularly since, as Starkey illustrates above, aspects of our past can profoundly influence how we choose to define ourselves in the present.
7. Conclusion It is clear that the relationship between heritage tourism and national identity is an important area for research and debate. A better appreciation of the way in which these two areas interact can only lead to a more in depth awareness of how national identity is formed and how it can change over time. However, heritage tourism’s influence in helping to both shape and control the nation’s identity has not really been adequately recognised. This highlights the usefulness of the concept of semiology. It enables the underlying, and perhaps less obvious, meanings behind the images on display to be more fully understood. Indeed, the suggested themes, the signs and symbols of the nation, that run through the discourse of heritage tourism are interelated with the elements of national identity discussed earlier by Smith, Renan and Anderson. They act as signifiers of the nation as a community with common beliefs, an historic homeland and as a common culture with legal rights and duties handed down through time. As such, they engender the sense of collective immortality and dignity that Smith maintains is an essential part of a national identity. Above all, however, they serve to create the imagined community of Anderson through their appeal to the perceived moral values of the nation: faith, virtue, honour and courage in the face of adversity. In so doing they create the sense of a ‘deep horizontal comradeship’ that Anderson argues is what makes people prepared to lay down their lives for their country. The language of heritage tourism enables a particular type of self to be atriculated and publicly recognised. It is, therefore, a powerful force in the construction, promotion and maintenance of a national identity because it illuminates the historic symbols of the nation’s identity and holds them up for communal veneration; rather in the manner of H.V. Morton when he asserts ‘in a restless world that changes often for the sake of change you feel in little places such as Ripon that you touch the sturdy
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roots of England firmly locked in a distant and important past’ (Morton, 1928, p. 64). Heritage tourism is thus more representative of who we were, than it is of who we are. However, tourist images do not operate in isolation, they are part and parcel of alternative visions of the nation, such as those emanating from the political or sporting arena. Yet their status as ‘sacred centres’ of nationhood ensures they remain the most high profile and thus, arguably, the most influential. As Dawson states, the National heritage industry has focused on a version of nationhood dependent upon all things royal and historical. While this version may not be the only view of nation-ness, ‘. . .it remains the most common way that our culture is represented to the rest of the world — and the most profitable’ (Dawson, 1997, p. 318). Perhaps heritage tourism should consider following the Culture Secretary’s lead and rename itself cultural tourism. Thereby enabling different and more contemporary visions of nationhood to be acknowledged and promoted.
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