The farmers' demonstration and lobbying meetings have come and gone in the UK with little heed, at least outwardly, by government. They took place conveniently for the PM when he seemingly had to stay an extra day at COP29. Did he do that to avoid the farmers face-to-face while ensuring he and his Secretary of State for Energy Security promised net zero targets, which will cause more pain for all their UK citizens, while at the same time pledging money to the 3rd world to ease their suffering due to climate change? Meanwhile, they say the money they will collect from the farmers will be used towards the NHS, as mooted by the Chancellor. If you believe that, you will believe anything.
"You may ask why I am so interested in the fate of UK farmers. Simple, as I know what it feels like to lie in your bed at night awaiting the loss of your farm, home and way of life. My sympathy is, therefore, with them and any farmer forcibly removed from his land and home due to force of circumstance brought about the action of politicians." - Peter McSporran
His absence, in essence, was a snub, which did not please the farmers, and now, the militants are planning more action. It seems the UK government cares little for its farmers and, therefore, neither for food security nor the welfare of the countryside, be it its environment or social fabric.
My father was a staunch conservative and voted for the Unionists (Scottish Conservatives) when Sir Michael Noble represented us in Argyll until the mid-sixties when the SNP took over. At Keil School, I recall only two boys who openly opposed the Unionists, one a Labour supporter, Robertson, deemed by us a Red, a communist, and one a Scottish Nationalist, Cameron, deemed a crank. We only called each other by surnames or nicknames at our school, so no first names remembered. I was far too young to understand politics in those days; it meant little to me, but I had to listen to my father on our weekly rounds of the farms on Sunday mornings when, if he were not talking about cattle and sheep, would drum into me the dangers of socialism. He suggested I had communist leanings for supporting one of the workers, as I recorded in a previous blog. I often wonder what his feelings were when he had to entertain a delegation of Russian Communist Agriculturalists and politicians who arrived en masse to purchase some Galloway cattle, leaving some commemorative medal to my father to remember the occasion. I cannot remember seeing the medal later in life, so I have no idea if he retained it hidden from sight or threw it away.
Although I consider myself a liberal right-winger, others consider me less liberal. I am old enough to recall the blackouts and unemployment of the sixties, along with Wilson lying about the effects of the pound's devaluation, saying it was worth the same in your pocket. Being in Mombasa on board a ship at that time, I certainly knew it was worth less.
“It, devaluation, does not mean, of course, that the pound here in Britain, in your pocket or purse, or in your bank, has been devalued". - Harold Wilson lying to the British public
Unfortunately, after all these years following the recent election, Starmer's crowd have perhaps proved my father right: they gain power by dishonesty. They cannot be trusted. Many farmers voted for Labour on their false promises, so it is little surprise they feel let down. Those seeing their land ownership under threat fuel the tensions the government seems happy to ignore. They do so at their peril.
“I have this recurring set of oxymorons in my life. Numerous triggers, such as the first rains, bring happy memories, although they are also poignant. I suppose that sums up one's emotions when paradise is lost.” - Peter McSporran
After two days of extreme wind here in Portugal, on Monday evening this week, the rain came with us having forty-five millimetres overnight. From three in the morning, I lay awake listening to it, which could be heard on the roof despite it being tiled. Being the end of November, such rain would have been a godsend to farmers back in the day in Zimbabwe marking the beginning of the new season. I often think of home and the farm, but every now and again, something brings on poignant thoughts. The rain is one.
“Anyone who has lived in Africa will never forget the smell of the first rains on the baked soil. It gets embedded in your sensory system.” - Peter McSporran
Rain towards the end of November was ideal for us tobacco and groundnut farmers. It also allowed for maize planting, although maize farmers would have liked it a bit earlier. Traditionally, tobacco farmers dry planted their rain-fed tobacco in mid-October with the expectation of the rains commencing in late November, ideally some six weeks after planting, thus ensuring good root development and high yields. It was rare for us to get this rain in time, but we lived a life of hope.
“What other industry would plant seedlings into hot, dry soil in the hottest month of the year, applying two litres of water in the hope that it would rain within six weeks, thus ensuring the plant's survival? The Zimbabwean tobacco industry did, and successfully. This about sums up the attitude of every Zimbabwean farmer who always hoped that the next year will be better.” - Peter McSporran
From memory, most years leading up to Christmas were fraught with worry over the arrival of the rain. No matter what the weather forecast was saying, we farmers would continually glance up at the sky, hoping it was right or wrong when rain or no rain was forecast. Despite the long-term forecast, there were specific signals some of my wiser neighbours were signs to indicate the season ahead. These included:
“A cold winter means good rains, a mild one, little rain.” - Clem Bruk-Jackson.
“Heavy early rains in September will precede a certain drought until Christmas.” - Trevor Gordon.
“If the weavers build their nests high in the riverbank reeds, it means good rains to follow, the opposite if low.” - John Gordon.
All had a fifty per cent chance of being right. The one exception was Des Bruk-Jackson, who, despite what the sages said, would annually try to entice the rain and would take to rain dancing no matter the forecast. A crate of beer generally preceded this to lubricate his limbs and vocal cords as he sang as he danced. As the drought extended, these events shrunk from weekly to daily occurrences. Mind you he also drank copious amounts of beer to celebrate its arrival. As a tobacco farmer, my worst growing season was when we had too much rain. If I recall, that was in 1998. The dryland crop got wet feet, and our one farm, Mede, being flat and poorly drained, was a disaster.
In early 1996, Nick Swanepoel and I, along with the CFU executive staff, Felicity Wood and Mike Rooke from the Farmer Magazine, held a groundbreaking event to celebrate the commencement of the building's construction. It was a sad day when I heard the CFU had to sell the building, which was brought about, I believe by an irregularity in regard to crop financing. If anyone reading this knows the facts, I would love to know more. Surely, retaining and leasing the extensive offices and facilities would have sustained the now much smaller organisation?
Before the 1995 CFU congress, there was a special council meeting held solely to discuss and vote for or against the Restructuring Committee's findings and recommendations. John Meikle chaired this committee and his recommendations, widely discussed at previous council meetings passed without any detractors. Tok Arnold even agreed to them much to my surprise. Thereafter, John went on to present his recommendations to Congress that year, where, after a good debate, they were accepted by all except for one Farmers Association, Somabhula. Their chairman, Nigel Juul and his fellow delegate, Richard Smart, voted against it, citing putting dairy and beef under one umbrella would reduce their voice in council, that area being mainly a cattle area. Nigel and Richard declared they were personally for the changes but their association not, so they rightly voted against it. As the vote was almost unanimously carried with a huge majority the CFU executive started to make plans for its implementation. Many of these would require the individual branches and commodities to examine their constitutions and rules to enable the change. When it comes to farming politics, you can never relax. At the 1995 congress, Cedric Wilde, the Matabeleland Chairman, stood down as chairman, and Tim Taylor took his place. All was well until late that year or early 1996, at a council meeting when discussions were taking place on the implementation, Tim suddenly announced that Matabeleland was against it, maybe not all of it and maybe not really but in any event would like some time to think about it. Chairing the meeting I managed to remain calm, I had mellowed after four years in farming politics and listened to his vague, even uncertain reasons. Not so for some other councillors, Dave Hannay from Makonde being the most outspoken with some harsh words said. It was to prove the most exciting meeting I attended at the council, and finally, I suggested that Tim go back to his branch and resolve the issue as Congress had already passed the resolutions.
Disclaimer: Copyright Peter McSporran. The content in this blog represents my personal views and does not reflect corporate entities.
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