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Gavin Mortimer

The Imperial War Museum’s betrayal of history

The news that the Imperial War Museum is closing Lord Ashcroft’s Victoria Cross and George Cross gallery is sadly not a great surprise. It’s the latest act in the ‘wokeification’ of this once outstanding museum. Writing in the Daily Telegraph last week, Lord Ashcroft said that the IWM didn’t even have the ‘courtesy to inform’ him of the closure. Rather, it issued a statement in which it thanked him for his generous 15-year loan but said the exhibition will shut permanently on 1 June. The reason, explained the IWM, is to create new space ‘to allow us to share more stories of conflicts that are within many of our visitors’

Something to relish: in praise of Patum Peperium

In a social media age, certain ingredients – long esteemed by those in the know – suddenly burst on to the scene. One morning we woke up to all the supermarkets stocking Mutti tinned tomatoes. Ortiz sardines and Perello Gordal olives are now in the limelight. I wonder – given the current zeitgeist for all things umami – whether Patum Peperium (Latin: ‘peppered paste’) could be next. Then again, the ‘Gentleman’s Relish’ – an anchovy paste made with butter and spices – isn’t for everyone. Much like Marmite, it has embraced this contentious reputation: ‘Dividing opinions since 1828’ it declares in its branding. After almost 200 years on the scene,

Why Roman gladiators were the first feminists

Chiselled out of stone in around the 1st century AD, the scene in this image gives a powerful snapshot of the excitement of gladiatorial combat. In this carving found in Turkey – once a key part of the Roman empire – the opponents face each other head-on, with a look of grim determination. From behind their curved rectangular shields, both appear ready to lunge with short stabbing swords. However, this gladiatorial fight differs from what you might expect in one crucial way: both opponents are women. Look closely enough and you will see the gladiator on the left has her long hair in a plait which snakes down to a bun at the

What does it mean to be British?

The comic writer George Mikes, who died nearly 40 years ago, knew he had made it when he received a fan letter one day from Albert Einstein. Mikes, the scientist said to him, was blessed with ‘radiant humour… Everyone must laugh with you, even those who are hit with your little arrows.’ Chief among Mikes’s targets were the British people, whom the writer – a refugee from Hungary – had chosen to spend the greater part of his life among. He had come to the UK on a visit in 1938 and wisely, given what would happen to his country in the years that followed, decided never to leave. Though

Three tips for Kelso and Newbury

The ground will play a key role in the outcome of the big race at Kelso tomorrow, the bet365 Morebattle Hurdle (3.30 p.m.) worth nearly £62,000 to winning connections. The going description is currently ‘good to soft, soft in places’ but with a day and a half of winter sunshine forecast it could well be nearer to ‘good’ ground by the off. I certainly hope that is the case because the two horses I am backing both like fast ground. My number one fancy is Alan King’s FAVOUR AND FORTUNE, whose fine run when fourth to the impossibly well-handicapped Joyeuse can be marked up as he was inconvenienced by the soft

Illegal rewilders are taking over the countryside

Hardly a month goes by without a report of guerrilla rewilders at work. Lynx released in the Cairngorms, wild boar on Dartmoor, beavers everywhere and, no doubt, before long, wolves and bears – if neo-Rousseauist guerrillas can find a ready supply and achieve it without being bitten.  Usually, these illegal releases of formerly indigenous-but-no-longer-native animals are in national parks, reinforcing my view that national parks give people a state-sponsored sense of entitlement to behave as they please on private land. The fact that the vast majority of farmers are against such reintroductions seems to give added incentive to the rewilding guerrillas. The extinction of family farms at the hands of