Real life | 28 February 2019

‘What do you mean, you have no ID?’ I asked the farmer, starting to feel dizzy with the mind-boggling convolution of it all.

‘They took all my personal documents. I keep asking but no one gets back to me,’ he said.

The farmer, you may remember, was the subject of a police and RSPCA raid on land near to where I live in Surrey where the RSPCA seized 123 horses, which then disappeared on to the motorway in lorries with the charity refusing to say where it was taking them.

Shortly after, I was leaked documents showing where the horses had gone. They had been split between half a dozen locations, sent to the four corners of the country, up to eight hours’ drive away.

It is bad enough that the RSPCA can disappear 123 horses from public view, and that it is in the process of applying to the courts for what is called a Section 20 order, by which it might gain legal possession of the horses, to do with as it wishes. And that a charity can do all this before it has even charged the owner with anything is astonishing.

But what blows my mind is the fact that the farmer has had personal documents confiscated, including his passport and driving licence.

How is it possible that in Great Britain in 2019 a horse dealer can be subject to a dawn raid on his farm, have all his livestock taken, and then over a month later his proof of identity is still not returned to him?

Is this man’s life meant to be put on hold so that he may not travel, drive or gain access to services while a charity investigates him? If so, he is being treated much worse than a terror suspect.