Yesterday, in his
Guardian column, the environmentalist George Monbiot, considering England’s current democratic deficit in the light of its colonial past, explained how he was ‘indifferent’ to the country of his birth. I find it hard to believe that anyone is indifferent to the country to which they belong. They may hate it (as I suspect George does and, as Orwell pointed out, many English left-wing intellectuals do), they may love it to pieces, or like it just a little bit. But indifferent? Was he unaffected by the monument to British worthies that stands in the grounds of his stately public school, Stowe? Did he not engage with the politics of his father, a former deputy chairman of the Conservative party, or his mother, an Oxford councillor? Aren’t his present politics in some way a reaction to his impeccably English upper middle class background? No, it seems George bestrides the world of which he is a ‘global citizen’ in some strangely numb and wholly objective manner, averse to the prejudices of we lesser folk. Oh to think such pure thoughts.
It is impossible to feel indifferent towards Henry VIII. Yesterday, Dr David Starkey, member of
History Today’s advisory board, was at the
British Library to unveil a love letter from Henry to Anne Boleyn. Probably written in January 1528, it has been hidden away in the Vatican collections for the best part of 500 years, and will be on display in a British Library exhibition on the king which opens on April 23rd. Dr Starkey is rarely short of an opinion, one of the many reasons why he is one of our most compelling historians, and declared at the unveiling that ‘Henry is not only England's best-known king - with his wives, his girth and his bloodthirstiness - he is also our most important single ruler. When he came to the throne, Henry was the pious prince who ruled an England at the heart of Catholic Europe. When he died, he was the great schismatic, who had created a national church and an insular, xenophobic politics that shaped the development of England for the next 500 years.’ Two questions arise from that statement. Was the politics that shaped England from the Tudor age to the present day really marked by insularity? Can empires be born of insularity? Is not curiosity about the world beyond a motivating factor, as it was in the rise of science in England? And is Henry really ‘our most important single ruler’? Cases can certainly be made for William I, Henry II, Elizabeth I, Cromwell, among others.