It is said that if you want to get to know a person, travel with them, live with them or go through a difficulty with them. The same might be said for countries revealing who they are and what they stand for after this year’s pandemic. Rightly or wrongly, for better or for worse, stereotypes of countries exist already, built on centuries of history, events and publicity. In recent years, many have been working on rebranding themselves in order to attract inbound investment and tourism. At the end of the '90s, for example, the UK repositioned itself as "Cool Britannia". In 2002, India announced itself as "Incredible India". Malaysia in 2007 became "Truly Asia". Saudi Arabia has been pegging its transformation around Vision 2030. And earlier this year <a href="https://www.thenationalnews.com/uae/government/uae-s-first-national-brand-unveiled-1.961537">the UAE announced a new brand</a>, voted for by 10 million people. But this year the behaviours of countries, were evident in a different light, with regard to how well or poorly they handled the Covid-19 crisis. This was not an image created by branding agencies or slick PR machinery. Last week, the UK’s medical regulator was the first in the world to approve a vaccination against Covid-19. Like many others, I was thrilled. So were people in the UK government. But the news elicited a rather bombastic response from the UK’s Education Secretary Gavin Williamson: “I just reckon we’ve got the very best people in this country and we’ve obviously got the best medical regulators. Much better than the French have, much better than the Belgians have, much better than the Americans have.” He added: “That doesn’t surprise me at all because we’re a much better country than every single one of them, aren’t we?” Reactions were split. Some said Mr Williamson was rightly proud of the country and why shouldn’t he be? Others likened him to a seven year old saying ‘my daddy is better than your daddy’, suggesting it was an inflated build on Prime Minister Boris Johnson’s claim of the country’s handling of the pandemic being ‘world-beating'. Either way, it brought home yet again, the UK’s fractured nature, with people of opposing views split over a national identity that is built on past greatness. Other countries, too, couldn't help but reveal some personality. Sometimes nationalism verging on jingoism came through. Some countries were dismissive of evident problems, putting ideology above policy and people. Leaders of some first world nations used Covid-19 as a pretext to blame other countries, not holding back the racist overtones. Rule enforcement in countries like China contrasted sharply with the rule-breaking, non-mask-wearing protests in the US. While traditionally the US has been called the 'world's policeman', it faced rule breakers at home, even in the White House. Some countries appeared competitive, some more collaborative, while the approaches of a few other nations did suggest a sense of pride and unity, bringing people together to get through the tough times. The UAE, for example, highlighted its heroes. Just last week it announced a fallen frontline heroes order to be awarded to anyone who died of Covid-19 while working on the frontline. For still some others, abiding by the rules – or flouting them – became the defining issue of the pandemic. Take Japan, for instance. It reported negative excess mortality for the first seven months of 2020. The country's finance minister put this down to "the (high) cultural level" of the Japanese people. As the world’s over 200 countries came under the same threat, it became clear the baseline from which each country began its fight against the virus was not the same. New Zealand, for instance, fostered a particularly strong sense of community, taking advantage of its position as a small island nation to close its borders and promote a sense of resilience among its citizens. Economic reality and history also played a huge role in preparedness and vigilance. Countries such as South Korea and Singapore that experienced Sars – and West African countries that had faced Ebola – responded better, having learnt from their past. Liberia, Sierra leone and Guinea too applied their learnings from Ebola. This sense of not wanting disaster repeated set them ahead of many western countries. Countries like the UK rolled out ‘furlough’ schemes to offer financial support during lockdowns. The same was not available in countries where the government struggled to intervene in a timely and effective manner. In India some 140 million migrant workers found themselves without jobs during lockdown, destitute and worried about starvation. After a public outcry, the government finally announced free food for them for two months. Separately, we are about to see the second wave of this country inequality as richer nations purchase and roll out the vaccine. Despite this retreat into our own individual nation behaviours, the vaccine, which will hopefully put an end to this year's horrific experiences, does leave us with an illuminating thought. That instead of hunkering down into our isolated bunkers, the future lies in global collaboration. <em>Shelina Janmohamed is an author and a culture columnist for The National</em>