Some time ago, perhaps six weeks, I was reading a report of yet another survey of British young people. This one was to do with being British, and posed various questions of the respondents.

Many didn't know their history. Large proportions, 25% in one case, 37% in another, almost 50% in another, couldn't name the Prime Minister, or identify famous historical figures. If I recall correctly, four out of ten didn't know who or what Oliver Cromwell was and what he did.

This led to the usual hand-wringing. People asked why? Why are these young people so ignorant?

But of course, not everyone thinks the same things are important. And, just because a jaded bunch of bourgeois posers think knowledge of history is important, that doesn't mean it is.

What the moaners didn't establish is why a person should learn history in the first place. I know why, but do we all? And is there agreement? I doubt it says Pauline.

My own feeling is that, imperfect as the teaching of history is it's one of the ways a society establishes a common understanding of what it is, where it has come from, what are its norms and values and, very importantly, what are its creation myths.

History teaching has been deconstructed in recent years. Made more 'relevant'. More politically correct and sensitive. Embracing all the inters - cultural, denominational, gender.

In sum, history is not what it was. In Britain, the old Anglo-centric model didn't fit. Too white, male, heroic, imperial, upper-class, Protestant, royalist, conservative. Shall I go on?

These changes reflect newer socialist, feminist and egalitarian critiques. But of course, Britain itself has changed as well. There has been enormous immigration into the UK and many of the population are ghettoised in poor areas pockmarked by disadvantage. It is now forecast that whites will be in a minority in London by 2010.

Many of the modern British are people whose parents or grandparents came to the UK in the 50s and who grew up in the UK and speak with London or Brummie or Scouser or Manchester accents.

They live in the UK and think of themselves as British. But their Britain is not the Britain of Oliver Cromwell or Henry VIII. Indeed, as is also the case with Nor'n Ir'n, their Britain is not that of the English. It is, in a way, a place without history.

Modern, multi-racial, intercultural Britain hasn't worked out how to integrate 'non-nationals', other than through the shared values of soccer, shagging and getting pissed in sunny places. In the absence of a shared history and culture, that's about as close to an identity as you get.

But there's a paradox. Just as, through cheap air flights, loadsamoney, increased suburbanisation, globalisation and satellite TV, we are becoming less like ourselves and more like the British, we find that they, lacking a centre to their identity, want to become more like us! Or like they perceive us to be, which is not the same thing.

According to Clara Lewis of the Irish Independent, 25% of British people believe they have Irish blood. Apparently, they are also keen to claim Irish ancestry even if they don't have any links to Ireland. In fact, experts think the true number is one in ten.

Also, the younger you are, the more likely you are to boast about your real or imagined Celtic roots. Nearly half (42%) of 18-34 year olds in England, Scotland and Wales claimed to have Irish connections.

Professor Roy Bradshaw of Nottingham University says its probably to do with cultural influences: "For some reason people want to believe they are Irish. The reality is that for most of them, it just won't be true".

Clara Lewis quotes the trends forecasting consultant Seán Pilot de Chenecey, who declares that: "In our depersonalised world the search for reality and authenticity is an obsession for young people. One of the few places that's retained its feelgood factor and personal warmth is Ireland, a youthful country that epitomises friendliness".

Tell that to immigrants, especially if they're black.

So, here's the point. Those who ignore the lessons of history are condemned to repeat it. We're on an accelerated trajectory towards exactly the same thing as is found in Britain, and we should be thinking about the implications and about how we might do it differently.

Like, perhaps the Dutch way. Their attitude to incomers is - we respect you and we agree that you should be able to worship and recover in your own time. But we also expect you to dig in, to try to understand us, to evaluate what's really really important in religion, culture and so on…

But if we are to take this tack, and I think it crucial if we are to successfully integrate immigrants, we have to address some very significant questions. Like, what is Ireland? Is it a distinctive and noble musical, poetic, storytelling, musical cultured place? Or is it a bleak, rejectionist monoculture, a sub-set of the United Kingdom?

And the big one - what and who are we, the Irish? What does being Irish actually mean? What do we bring to the world that is unique and valuable?

Are we brash capitalist Celtic Tigers or have we values?!? Can we reconcile our innate intolerance with going to stricken countries to lend a hand, and the rising numbers of homeless with our growing prosperity? Can we still listen as well as talk? Do we still have a collective soul? If so, how do we nurture it?

We have to start justifying ourselves, so that we can segue our old, complex reality into a new and equally complex identity.

So who are we? How are we changing? And how do we hang on to the sweet music of the soul that tourists come for and that the young British so want to be a part of?

The Hog