Recently an American friend said something that rings very true, when he said that “sometimes it feels as if Ukraine has shifted just a couple of miles south of Manchester”.

The British public has adopted that war as if it is one of their own.

Ukraine’s fight against an evil empire echoes their sense of themselves: a plucky little nation that stood alone against the Blitz of World War Two.

Historically, Britain has always loved the victims of someone else’s colonies. Through my involvement in a film festival where I live, I’ve learned quite a bit about the psychology of the locals.

At the heart of that is what I see as a pathological aversion to facing up to what was done in the name of ‘Empire’.

Everything’s reduced to a tale of two World Wars, and one World Cup, against the same enemy.

And if Empire is considered, white Britain’s sense of itself is that of Obi-Wan Kenobi in ‘Star Wars’, rather than Darth Vader.

Of course, there is a recognition that parts of it were dark, but the greater good, and all that...

In the public psyche, the British Empire is a heroic story of defence – like one of those World Cup tournaments that England almost won, where the national spirit’s summed up by a clumsy but lovable Harry Maguire.

That’s why, when the Ukrainian war started, grown men were taking selfies in mirrors, flexing their muscles, and turning their Instagram and Facebook profiles to blue and yellow colours.

A voice in their head was yelling out, “We will fight, and we will be right.”

Except – they weren’t fighting. The Ukrainian war, on one level, is a proxy war against Russia with two sides to the story.

And despite what I’ve said, I’m obviously on the same side. I support the Ukrainian people over the Russian invaders.

Going back as far as yer man, King Solomon, it’s obvious you don’t cut a baby in half to show love.

But the British support for Ukraine is weird, when we consider how there’s never been the same interest in Gaza, at present – or Ireland, in the past.

Probably that’s because these two places are all too real, too close.

Britain’s colonies present it with a reality that it’s not ready to confront. They’re a set of real mirrors in a Hall of Mirrors. They’re an existential challenge to Britain’s self-styled sense of always being the good guys.

Supporting Ukraine gives Britain that sense of being on the side of right against might.

It’s a shining example of the values they hold dear – fair play, decency, freedom, democracy, justice and morality.

But to those who were colonised, such values are laughable.

Of course, they do exist. At a personal level, most British people are incredibly decent and kind, with a very strong sense of fair play.

As ‘Exhibit A’ in the case of proving that, I’d present your average English family will, compared to an Irish will.

One’s usually a product of favouritism straight out a colonial playbook, leaving feuds that last generations.

Most of the English, on the other hand, seem to leave this world with their affairs and their possessions in order.

They do things in an equitable and forthright manner that’s very much at odds with their political history.

Like the other western European powers, Britain left behind an unresolved mess in almost every country that it colonised for a prolonged period.

That’s as true of Ireland as it is of India, Palestine or even Australia, where indigenous people still speak of “colonial terrorism”.

So it’s easier then for Brits (used in their own sense of the word, rather than in an Irish Republican sense) to focus on places such as Ukraine.

Mind you, the British were one of the major players in the Crimean War, too.

In the British psyche, all these acts were part of national defence. But whenever the question is asked “defending what”, they’re not sure.

There seems almost no reflection on history beyond World War Two myths.

Little is even known of history across the Irish Sea. That was summed up very well by Patrick Kielty at the end of the documentary series, ‘Once Upon a Time in Northern Ireland’.

There, he talked about doing a TV show in England on the night of The Good Friday Agreement. That was such a monumental night for all of us who lived through it.

However, for the English people in that TV studio, it meant almost nothing. Patrick Kielty went to his hotel room and cried alone.

But such a shameless, self-blameless lack of knowledge is bizarre. It’s also ironic, because while Britain sees itself as Ukraine, the reflection that it casts in history is 100 times more similar to Russia.

What’s happening in Ukraine is a lot closer to here than the couple of thousand miles it’d take to drive as the crow flies from Belfast to Kyiv.

Both Northern Ireland and the Donbas are imperial hangovers.

Just as most Protestants in Northern Ireland feel culturally British, as well as Irish in their own way, the people of Donbas identify with a sense of Ukraine being historically Russian, culturally and territorially.

Unfortunately, as with so many national disputes, the Ukrainian majority weren’t able to construct a state where those people were protected on an equal basis. That’s partly what caused the conflict.

Russia then claim they stepped in to protect the eastern Ukrainians who were under siege.

That part, I think most people can get if they’re given both sides of the story rather than very simplistic versions.

The British interpretation of the story is hugely simplified. And it’s scary too how easily the government has manufactured consent for arming the Ukrainians in a state of endless war, rather than pushing for peace.

But for those who see what’s happening in Gaza, and the shocking double standards around the twin evils of Russian and Israeli aggression, it’s hard to not see the British as brainwashed.

That’s because, in the words of another friend – an English one – we have to understand what the British public has been told their whole life about, again, two World Wars, one World Cup and them as Harry Maguire.

They have been conditioned to treat personal values and systemic values as two different things.

Like I also said, at a personal level, the British people have incredibly kind, genuine and decent hearts – yet when it comes to systems and institutions such as the military, the Monarchy and Empire, the British public goes deaf and blind to the suffering of other races.

War’s just an away game on inferior pitches.

That’s why in the words of another friend, a Chinese woman, this week: “English people seem to have cold hearts when it comes to Gaza.”

That doesn’t warm the cockles like gallant little Ukraine does.