As I drove to school this morning, the dark light of dawn crept over the distant Blackdown hills. The lanes were flooded and the fog slowly cleared as we bypassed Quantox and headed towards Taunton.
The West Somerset countryside is very green, or so I thought. Or, now that I think about it, I probably thought it was very racist. This is because a report submitted to the All Party Parliamentary Group (APPG) by Wildlife and Countryside Link, which represents a number of wildlife charities including the RSPCA, WWF and the National Trust, claims Because the English countryside isn’t just green. It is white and “racist colonial.”
There we are all country folk, some tending the soil, some cultivating it by grazing and cultivating it, some managing it by cutting hedges, felling trees, planting trees, etc. Some were struggling with drainage, while others were working on infrastructure development. But what we didn’t realize, but have now been usefully taught, is that all this work, activity or mere existence was due to ‘white British cultural values embedded in the design and management of green spaces’. This is nothing but an example of this. .
This is not the first time that suggestions of racism have been directed, with unfortunate absolute certainty, at the British countryside and its people. One day I took a bath (I know non-racist people take showers) and a group called Muslim Hikers told me they were not welcome in rural areas and were banned from ethnic minority communities. I remember hearing someone on the radio complaining about this. I had a convulsion and involuntarily splashed water, almost flooding the bathroom.
And it’s here again, this time writ large in an official report to MPs who were seeking evidence on the link between “systemic racism” and the “climate crisis.” Keen to please, MPs are desperate to improve their reputations as gutter-fouling, inept MPs, and they want the evidence they can get their hands on.
And so, from wildlife charities, all those boardroom explorers with a collective passion for putting buzzwords on flipcharts rather than researching the best British films, we hear a “racist colonialist” The legacy of geological history has defined Britain’s nature as ‘white space’ and ‘the perception that green spaces are dominated by white people can prevent people from ethnic minority backgrounds from using green spaces.’
The very idea that rural racists are having a negative impact on climate change is very much to think about for Farmer-Jones. Before he turns the key to his tractor in the chilly darkness of early morning, he must shoulder the burden of being a racist and a destroyer of the earth.
So it comes as a bit of a surprise to those of us kind-hearted, gentle country folk who have never seen a sign at a motorway junction or train station that screams “No Ethnic, Black, or Brown People.” Except, of course, that’s the point. The signs are invisible, you can’t see them, you can’t look for them. It’s just always there, and its malevolence pervades every hedge, tree, field, and ditch.
The report therefore concludes that the government must act. Access to green spaces requires a “rights-based approach” and “legally binding targets for access to nature.”
I’m looking forward to seeing how it plays out. Will Farmer Jones be ordered to forego her weekend of fence repair and instead man the sidewalks with clipboards? “It was a beautiful morning. There were two blacks and an Indian family.” Or will Congress send in a squad of smart anoraks wielding tally counters and walkie-talkies?
Okay, okay, I say, slapping my childish thinking. But let me take a step back and spell out some truths here. Here are some of the reasons why some people monitoring racism in rural areas may have found it.
There is no doubt that the number of ethnic minority people living in rural Britain is decreasing. The story of our island’s mass migration brings people to British cities. That’s where we think the most opportunities lie. Few would-be immigrants packed their bags from Delhi, for example, and said, “Dad, I’m going to Wiveliscombe.”
The majority settled in cities, settled and built communities, but some later started new lives in small towns and villages. It’s understandable, since it’s natural to feel more comfortable around people who are similar to you.
This week, as I, a white British man, walked along Blackhorse Lane in Walthamstow at 3.30pm, I found myself weaving through hundreds of girls from Eden School for Girls in Waltham Forest. Just as they were walking, all of them were from ethnic minorities and were dressed in ethnically appropriate attire. Islamic faith. I wasn’t uncomfortable, I just felt different and I was curious and interested in observing.
If the same few hundred girls were walking down Wiveliscombe at 3.30pm, locals would be curious. But that doesn’t make them racist. Furthermore, racism is not the reason why many ethnic minority people do not go to the countryside on weekends.
They come here because, frankly, the concept is novel. A sane person in a tattered old brown jacket, holey boots, and tweed hat shuffles along muddy sidewalks, climbs rusty gates, crumbling gateposts and kissing gates. Will you struggle with it? Big beasts of beef are lined up on wide bunks, all in the name of a pint of room-temperature bubbly ale and snacks made from pork rinds, all the better if they’re hairy.
Living and living in the countryside is strange and quirky, and most of us do it because our parents did it. Why else would anyone choose farming? You get up at dawn, you work 365 days a year, the weather is out of your control, the products you produce (wheat, barley, lamb, beef) – you get paid a pittance, but (Jeremy Clarkson tells the nation If you had an annual profit (as I taught you), it would be around £14.50.
No matter how hard we try, most of us end up culturally similar to our parents. I mean, I live in the country and you live in town. You think I’m mad, I think you’re crazy. My strict Christmas routine is definitely crazy, except it feels just right. And family traditions, which are foreign to me, will likewise make you feel calm and comfortable. The great divisions are actually what unite us.
And if you really, seriously want to ditch the trainers, throw on some waterproof trousers, drink a pint of Exmoor Ale (no half, remember, Wibliscombe Bear) and enjoy the World War II Participate in a trench re-enactment. (doesn’t serve “cocktails”) and he delivers a plate of scampi and potato chips within 2 hours. I welcome you as a brother.