One summer about 15 years ago we found ourselves camping in a rather smart French seaside resort.

It was hot, and there was quite a long walk to the popular beach, along a sandy path between pine-shaded holiday homes. Just before we reached the beach we came upon a notice board. I can't remember the exact details, but I know it instructed bathers - in French, of course - to be considerate towards other holidaymakers in the way they used the beach, which could get very crowded at times.

What I also recall, with great clarity, is that the instructions were summed up, not in formal, official French, but with two simple English words that leapt out at us: 'le fair-play'.

I'm not one of those people who believes in 'my country right or wrong'. I love the landscape of Britain, I like the people among whom I live, I wouldn't want to live anywhere else. But I'm of that generation that's always been more than a little suspicious of declarations of unthinking patriotism.

Yet, as I stood looking at that notice on that French beach I felt an unmistakable surge of pure pride in being British. Here was undoubted proof that we as a nation have given something unique and special to the world, something so characteristic of our nation that the French have no precise word for it and have to resort to English to say what they mean.

I thought of that sign again last week when I read about Cherie Blair's speech in Malaysia, where she warned that fear of terrorism must not be allowed to undermine "our right to call ourselves a civilised nation".

As I see it, it's that idea of 'fair-play' that allows us to call ourselves civilised. It's what being British is all about - or it ought to be.

It means everyone's equal before the law, but it also means that, as individuals, we have consideration for our neighbours, whatever their creed or colour. It means not behaving towards Muslims as if 'Muslim' were another word for 'terrorist'. It means treating wrongdoers justly, but with humanity. It means that, in times of crisis, we don't resort to torture or bullying or shooting on sight.

It means we don't allow our officials to snatch the children of failed asylum-seekers out of school, prior to deporting them. It means we care for the most vulnerable members of society, even when they're not particularly attractive or appealing. It means we expect high standards of integrity and openness in our public life. It also means that even when we all feel quite sure the police have arrested the right people, we still remember that every 'suspect' is innocent until found guilty by a jury in court.

All right, I know there's probably never been a time in our nation's history when we've always and unfailingly acted according to these principles of fair play. We've frequently fallen badly short of the ideal, both as a nation and as individuals. It's sometimes very hard to stand back a little from natural emotions of anger, mistrust, fear or simple dislike and do what is right and just, to treat others as we would like to be treated. But that doesn't mean it's not worth trying.

And if we Brits have given the concept of 'fair-play' to the world, shouldn't we hold on to the idea with pride and try to make sure it stays right at the heart of our society?

Published: 04/08/2005