Alan Titchmarsh says that ‘Gardening is more important than politics. It has a consistent point of view. And that is: that a piece of ground should be cherished.’ He is right, but he may not be fully aware that, in speaking as he does, he is expressing a political opinion. He is saying something conservative. One of the clever tricks that conservatism plays is to help people feel that things which, in reality, change often, are immemorial. Sure enough, Mr Titchmarsh goes on to say, ‘If you live in the countryside and look out of the window, you will see there is no ostensible difference between this year and 200 years ago.’ This is almost always untrue. Even if you leave aside blatantly visible technological developments such as pylons and wind turbines, the view from the rural window has been altered by the effects of barbed wire and tractors and nitrogen-based fertilisers and better drainage. Crops like rape or maize were unknown here 200 years ago. The landscape today lacks crucial elements of the past such as elms, and has been added to by garden escapees, including Himalayan balsam, Spanish bluebells, giant hogweed, and, particularly in the West, rhododendrons. As for gardens, they all relate to taste, and taste relates to politics. Virtually any garden planted or altered in the past two centuries reflects, whether unconsciously or not, Britain’s imperial history. We didn’t just have ‘dominion over palm and pine’ — we brought a great many palms and pines home. Yes, a piece of ground is cherished, but in different ways at different times. And this can happen only if people get the politics right so that the country is not swept by war, revolution and poverty. One must cherish good politics so that Mr Titchmarsh, and millions of others, can cherish their gardens.
Comments
Join the debate for just £1 a month
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for £3.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just £1 a monthAlready a subscriber? Log in