Riches, ancient cities, great architecture, splendid landscape, agriculture to match, trade routes, romance. Records of human settlement stretching to the dawn of civilisation, recurrent conflicts and invasions, dynastic struggles which lasted for centuries, wars of religion followed later by revolutionary conflicts. We are contemplating Provence, a region with a glorious history but which has often produced more history than it could consume.
That gives rise to an ironic parallel. In the UK, we too have a Province, pronounced Prov’nce. It too has exported a lot of history, for which it has received little recognition. Almost a third of the signatories of the US Declaration of Independence had Ulster Protestant roots. Millions of Americans may think that they have Catholic Irish origins. Millions more may not realise it, but they share a heritage with the men from the townlands of Antrim and Down who won the victories in the War of Independence.
Those Ulsters are a thrawn race, who always seem to find themselves on the windy side of the hill. Consider an obvious example: J.D. Vance. Hillbilly Elegy may be as close as an Ulster Prod gets to poetry. But the prose resonates with politics. The Vice-President’s account of the struggle for subsistence endured by his kith and kin – his version of The Grapes of Wrath – explains a lot about his present attitude to Europe. He sees poor people in the Appalachians who take it for granted that they have to work for a living (though some of them do succumb to drink and drugs). In Europe, such characters can draw welfare while relying on Uncle Sam to defend them.
Magazine articles are subscriber-only. Keep reading for just £1 a month
SUBSCRIBE TODAY- Free delivery of the magazine
- Unlimited website and app access
- Subscriber-only newsletters
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in