The skillful but egotistical footbaler, David Ginola was once asked if he minded that being the target of so much ire from opposing fans. "Not at all", the Frenchman replied, "it's better to be booed than ignored". By the standards of footballing answers, Ginola's remark was positively Chomsky-esque in its profundity. Fair play to him, he had a good point. Ginola was jeered not just because opposition fans hated him but also because they feared him. In a way, the boos were a sign of respect.
Likewise, it's not nice to see your country's flag being burnt, but it does at least show that you matter. Hatred is a form of acknowledgement, not a nice form but a form none the less. While the Stars and Stripes and the Union flag are frequent recipients of the petrol and match treatment, I can't imagine anyone wanting to set the Welsh national satndard alight.
Wales is neither loved nor loathed, it is simply ignored. This week the European Union took this to the extreme by publishing a map of the continent on its yearbook which excluded Wales altogether, enlarging the Irish Sea as a result. Poor little Wales, this is some humiliation. I mean it's not that small after all. You can't miss it, just head south from Liverpool and it's right there, honestly.
But the sad fact for the Wales is that, compared to its not especially larger Celtic cousins Ireland and Scotland, it has always dwelled in the shadows. It's hard to imagine the cartogrophers in Brussels neglecting to include either Scotland or Ireland on their maps. So why is Wales the least visible of the Celtic nations?
The main reason I believe is the Welsh people's striking lack of wanderlust. The Welsh are not big emigraters. If they do leave their own country they tend to settle in England rather than venture further afield. By contrast, you will find Scots and Irish in every little nook and cranny of this planet. Here in Korea I've met far more Irish than English even though we have only a tenth of their population.
In spite of their small populations, neither Scotland or Ireland has been able to provide economic opportunities for all of their young people. Wales by contrast, with its heavy industry, has not traditionally shed people to the same extent.
Welsh insularity means that they are little known in the wider world. The Scots and Irish by contrast have firmly established global caricatures. For the Scottish the stereotype revolves around the members of the Tartan Army, the country's notoriously good-natured football fans. The Scotsman standing in some windswept public square in eastern Europe, wearing a kilt and a football jersy, swigging from his tenth can of Tennets of the day, singing his heart out, represents Scottish diplomacy in action.
For Ireland the cliche also includes song and drink (quelle surprise). In our case we are represented in the world consciousness by the schizophrenic drunk, joyously belting out "The Fields of Athenry" one minute, crying into his pint of Guinness mumbling the words to "Danny Boy" the next.
Whether either of these images is true or positive is not the point. The point is that both Scotland and Ireland have an image. What is the stereotype of the Welsh person abroad? Quite simply, there isn't one. When they do venture beyond their valleys, the Welsh take less trouble to advertise their nationality than their brother Celts. Scotland has the kilt, we have the shamrock, but waht do the Welsh have? The leek. Oh dear.
this may seem trivial, but it matters. A silly symbol is important to get across the message "I am NOT English". Most Celts, whether they come from countries which sink into the Irish Sea or not, would agree that such a message is vital.