Hunting
– Banned: Political and Personal Reflections
Part One: The Politics of the Ban
by
Alexander
Moseley
by Alexander Moseley
War
destroys liberties like no other force unleashed by man upon man.
War – cruel and barbaric – swipes away life and property and in
its wake freedoms and traditional rights; it stomps Goliath-like
on the intricate cultures and patterns of complex life, it appeals
to the lowest denominator of human baseness: hatred. In the kingdom
in which I live, the past few years have seen liberty after liberty
stolen, trampled on, undermined, and abolished. Rights to income
earned, rights to property owned, rights to exchange and publication
of views, swept away under the various guises of war’s mantle.
And
I am not talking about the war in Iraq. I am talking about the war
against the citizens, from which war abroad often follows.
This
evening (Thursday, 18th November) in the United Kingdom
a group of backbench MPs in collusion with the Speaker of the Commons
have pushed through a ban on hunting with hounds in what can only
be seen as a declaration of war upon a law-abiding minority. Several
times over the past few years Bills to outlaw hunting with hounds
have been soundly rejected by the upper chamber – the House of Lords,
a chamber which, must be pointed out, is now increasingly populated
by political hacks and cronies and Blair supporters than the image
many hold of members of the (persecuted) aristocracy. Tonight, the
Speaker of the House of Commons (a man whose pronunciation of English
is somewhat garbled by his strong Glaswegian dialect) decided to
force the latest Bill to ban hunting with hounds through Parliament,
using a rarely used ‘Parliament Act’, which was designed, in 1949,
to permit constitutional change to be forced through in the face
of the upper chamber’s intransigence to change.
The
powers of the upper chamber to check the exuberance, myopia, or
plain stupidity, prejudice and arrogance of the lower chamber have
been overturned. And do not even think that the Monarch comes into
the equation. I once had a fondness for the monarchy, a patriotic
regard similar to how an American may perceive the Stars and Stripes
– forever there in times of trouble, standing true under attack,
holding its head high when the country verged on ruin, an icon of
unity and continuity. No longer. Her Majesty, who is a keen country
sports supporter, has done nothing.
Evil
flourishes when good men do nothing, the great orator Edmund Burke
putatively said – how true.
Arrogant
backbenchers laud themselves as representatives of the people, whom
they believe seek a hunt ban. Arrant nonsense. Opinion polls typically
show a 50-50 division on the issue if not a presumption in favour
of hunting or the liberty to hunt. But with an increasingly urban
population ignorant of the intricacies of life in countryside, and
millions of children brought up on the culture and propaganda of
animal rights, even such a division could not justify the forcing
through of a Bill that tramples on rights and removes ancient liberties.
As John Stuart Mill wrote – it would be wrong for 99% of the population
to impose their view upon 1% as it would be wrong for 1% to impose
its view on 99%. The Speaker and the backbenchers have rejected
popular opinion and have rejected any sensitivity for ethical controversy.
(Shooters, anglers and purveyors of halal/kosher meat beware!) The
Commons shall set the ethical tone of the land – it will wage a
moral crusade against smoking, drinking, hunting, music,
and every other tradition in the land.
So
why the ban? The politicians who supported it have rejected the
findings of commission after commission, they have rejected evidence,
they have rejected attending hunts or kennels, they have rejected
the economic impact a ban will have, they have rejected freedom.
In
previous articles I’ve called these Crusaders ‘Puritans’ in reference
to Cromwell’s godly men who sought to abolish frivolity and secular
pleasures. The roots of the Labour Party certainly can be traced
to elements of that broad dissenting church, but its modern fruit
is bitter indeed. I follow the hunt on foot in one of the oldest
traditions in the land – hare hunting. It predates the Romans –
indeed, British hounds were sought after by the Romans. (Incidentally,
Plato even applauds the holy hunters who hunt on foot or horse!)
The hunt – temporarily the monopoly of the crown and aristocracy
in the early Middle Ages– is today, and has been for centuries,
democratic and equal: all external social divisions evaporate on
the hunting field where reputation rises on merit, wisdom, and sportsmanlike
conduct. The dignity and classlessness of the hunts is achieved
through private interaction – through the localised politics of
private organisation and voluntary subscription; and the hunts have
been at the forefront of both conservation and animal welfare measures.
Their values and virtues could not be repeated by nationalisation,
regulation, or government – indeed, at hunt suppers, guest politicians
do not sit at the top table, for traditionally the Master of Hounds
or of Fox Hounds is higher in social rank than an MP.
Perhaps
that lowly yet accurate reflection of their rank in the hearts and
minds of private society piques some MPs sufficiently to seek a
ban on hunting. Others may be motivated by misplaced notions of
cruelty or barbarity, some by animal rights theories; but most are
motivated by old fashioned Marxist driven class hatred – naked prejudice
against what they see as the remnants of an ancient feudal order:
a land-owning class, supposedly Tory in its politics and capitalistic
in its predispositions. In my experience – a newcomer to hunting
in the past four years – the hunts attract a broad range of supporters
in age, wealth, and class. But of course the MPs who have passed
this act of war upon the land never went to find out with their
own eyes – arguably, they cried for a ban because the hunts had
become the last vestige of freedom: a self-regulating, dignified,
and traditional institution. They have waged class-war upon a minority
– and in winning the Parliamentary battle tonight, they have shown
that the House of Commons rules the land. The Lords is defunct,
the Monarchy useless.
The
hunt lobby (the
Countryside Alliance) will seek redress in the Courts – but challenging
legislation without a standard of right or wrong is like grasping
wet soap. Some hope lies with the European Courts. But what of revolt?
There
have been moments of activism that even the left should have been
proud of. Hunt supporters have brought motorways down to a snail’s
pace, half a million have marched outside of Parliament, brave lads
have stormed the Commons to express their indignation at the prejudice
therein, Ministers have been ‘hounded’ and have cancelled visits
to the countryside. The hunting population is generally incredibly
law-abiding, yet thousands have signed a declaration
to break the law. And still the backbenchers refused to listen
– and what really irks is that we’re paying their bloody salaries,
while they destroy our liberties. We’ve declared to go on hunting
and the ban may be just what this country needs – a bloody wake
up call to the institutions and liberties it’s losing hand over
fist to the meddling fascists now roaming the corridors of national
government.
When
thousands break a law that the police deem unenforceable (how to
arrest a woman or child on horse back with a hound at her heel in
modern Britain is a rather humorous conundrum for the authorities),
then the rule of the Commons will come into disrepute and hopefully
into question. Yet questioning is far from most people’s minds these
days – it’s been taught out of the population by the state school
system and by the mind-numbing banality of popular culture. Still,
images of red-jacketed huntsmen being arrested and pulled off their
horses for hunting quarry on their own land, may provoke enough
indignation in this slumbering land of lost liberties.
Part
Two: Personal Experiences and Reflection.
The
main hunting lobby – the Countryside Alliance – has come a long
way in putting forward its message that hunting is ecologically
sound, environmentally friendly, pro-conservation, and generally
good for communities (the necessary language of the modern West!).
But it made the grave mistake of believing the government’s cant
that it was going to listen, despite all the evidence of spin on
so many issues. Tony Blair will go down as the slipperiest Prime
Minister in our history – a man who has ridden through personal
and political controversy more regularly than our trains run, and
he will ride through this one with his cheesy ‘what me? nothing
to do with me, I’m just an ordinary guy’ grin. He has given the
Hunt Bill over to his back benchers while his Cabinet wages an unjustifiable
war in Iraq, a war that his own back benchers threatened mutiny
on. Was it the thought of the Hunt Bill that appeased them to support
the bombing and occupation of a foreign land? Perhaps, but then
again, it is more likely the thought of a promotion to a cosy job
in the unelected halls of Brussels for being good ovine supporters
of Beloved Blair. Support the war and ban the hunts – simple.
The
Countryside Alliance also made the mistake of preaching to the converted.
Advert after advert appeared in the country sports magazines – or
banners and posters along rural routes. Campaign tents were set
up at country fairs – and yes, that’s where the membership drives
ought to be, but evangelism needs to spread its wings into the dark
corners of ignorant urban Britain. Many times and to many folk both
high and low in the organisation I’ve expressed the need to preach
to soccer crowds, to advertise to urban Britain and to get into
the schools. Of course, I’m not the only one. Frustrations run high
when the only organisation capable of producing the goods fails
to do so or its spirit falters – it’s only natural to snap at those
closest to you.
Yet
when I met a new political adviser at a show, I was surprised to
meet a young woman – a very attractive lass, but a science graduate.
Youth against the political experience of back benchers whose average
political experience spans decades! A science graduate against the
PhDs of political science and theory. Beauty against the greasiest
spinning machine ever produced in the land. Despair! Then, when
I advanced a campaign idea of naming and shaming schools that permitted
or acquiesced in state funded teachers mocking and intellectually
bullying country sports enthusiast pupils, I had no reply – yet
speaking to many pupils from the state sector it was obvious that
the war had been going on for years and teachers could get away
with such bigotry and prejudice that levelled against ethnicity
or religion would have been a sacking offence. The campaign would
have been cheap – and the marketing simple – no reply. I asked about
an educational officer – none presently existed; one had taken the
job after graduating, I was told by one of the best activists and
campaigners the Countryside Alliance has (Clare Rowson, by the way,
of the West Midlands division who deserves international recognition
and a medal for her unflagging defence of hunting and her barracking
of Ministers). After graduating? So again, no experience, no understanding
of the national curriculum that prides itself on teaching how ‘stereotyping
leads to prejudice leads to racism which leads to genocide’? He
lasted a few months I gather.
A
more personal gripe: last year I launched a novel, Wither
This Land, set against the then predictable application
of the Parliament Act to ban hunting while war waged in Iran (I
had initially put Iraq in the first drafts, written months before
any policy to attack Iraq had been publicised – another hat I wear
is that of a specialist in the philosophy of war). The novel has
been read by antis and gained their respect, it has been read by
neutrals and got them interested in hunting; hunt supporters have
loved it. It’s the kind of book that the CA should be flogging like
hotcakes – not because it’s mine per se (although the income would
be nice), but because it deals with the ideas surrounding the issue
in a highly readable manner. The novel’s a ‘rip-roaring adventure’
as one of the CA executive said. I’ve sold the book to most of the
executive of the CA and to many supporters of the more activist
Countryside Action Network. But my reading of the situation is that
my colleagues can’t handle (or market) ideas – even though that’s
where the main war is taking place. In cynical moments I think that
the novel’s absence from the CA on-line shop is due to its lack
of pictures.
I’ve
written to various personages saying, hey, this is the kind of book
you should be disseminating in class rooms and book clubs – it’s
hot, it’s on your side, it generates debate, it provokes, it satirises
Blair’s Britain, it’s a laugh, it’s an adventure, it gets people
talking and thinking. No replies. After the House of Commons was
stormed by hunt protesters, I wrote to the major papers – I’d predicted
this, many in the CA and CAN have read my novel – hello??? is there
anyone in there? Want to know what could happen next?? No replies.
Despite
an incredible campaign, the CA has been politically naïve,
too accommodating (only marching on Parliament en masse on a Sunday
– when there were no bloody MPs around!!!), too decent (and turning
on the fuming membership who have crossed legal boundaries), and
too bloody nice old-fashioned Miss Marple British by half. I met
a farmer in Devon who said he’d blow the electrical pylons on his
land that fed a local town if they banned hunting: I hope he has
the courage to do so. The CA bumper stickers proclaim ‘Keep your
bulls**t in Westminster and we’ll keep ours in the country.’ My
car’s paintwork got ‘keyed’ because of that – but I hope the sh*t
will now flow freely Westminster’s way. Wither This Land predicts
– or encourages, if you like – more radical acts. It also provides
a picture of how we could live – in a land free from interference.
 My
second novel is due out any moment. Tonight, I’m supposed to be
writing the blurb for the dust jacket, but political news, usually
so depressingly trite, obvious, and predictable, motivates me to
pen this. But the second novel deserves a plug; after all I’m the
only one doing any plugging: Vestiges
of Freedom is set a hundred years from now – hunting’s banned
and long gone, but so too have horses and pets and books. It follows
the adventures of an artist who hears that horses still exist in
the northern Wasteland (of present day northern England and Scotland)
– an eco-nuclear disaster zone, the product of suicide terrorists
and nuclear war. I don’t go into that scenario too much, for the
book is a satire on the European Union and where we’re presently
headed – regulations and licences needed for every move and breath
we take. It’s about my country in the aftermath of war – international
war and war on civilians. And my hero, the increasingly anarchic
Robin Bradbury, decides to go on a quest to find horses. His adventures
attract the attention of the authorities, who predictably close
in, but how they do so, and what happens is much less predictable.
Hah.
 And
so I close – war has been finally declared on the countryside. I’ve
let out my barbaric yawps outside of the House of Commons; written
email after email to journalists, letters to local papers, emailed
dozens of comments to the BBC ‘Have Your Say’ column (rarely printed
as I often encourage revolt or the privatisation of the BBC!), hand-written
letters to MPs and Lords; I’ve dined with an anti-hunt MP at the
House of Commons to express how inconsistent he was being (his reply:
"I will vote for it but hope it fails" ... !!!); I’ve
even written a novel about the issue and shouted its story from
the rooftops and advertised it nationally at great cost. And as
I turn to retire, I fear that just as my personal campaign to get
a damn good novel noticed and picked up has been overwhelmed by
the noise of the modern society in which anybody’s opinion or writing
is as good as any one else’s, so too will the hunt lobby’s campaign
fall flat on deaf ears – politicians’ ears closed to reason and
evidence, and the population’s ears closed to ideas and to controversy.
The
hoped for rebellion in the countryside may remain a whisper in the
woods that is unheard the world over.
November
20, 2004
Alexander
Moseley [send him
mail] has lectured and tutored in American, Canadian and British
Universities. He spent the last two years sampling the State-run
comprehensive system in the UK and now teaches privately. He and
his fiancée have formed a partnership, Classical Foundations,
to teach music and other subjects privately one-to-one in their
area. Dr. Moseley is an avid exponent of the ideals Rothbard outlines
in his Education:
Free & Compulsory. He is the author of A
Philosophy of War and the novel Wither
This Land.
Copyright
© 2004 LewRockwell.com
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