Keep digging: Prince Philip looks on as David Cameron plants an oak tree in the grounds of Chequers, February 2014. (Photo: Getty)
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Squashed by two fat ladies, Churchill’s choice of oak and “Crinks” the lost Liberal

Notes by the former Gardeners’ Question Time chairman Stefan Buczacki.

I have a particularly fond memory of Clarissa Dickson Wright, who died on 15 March. I was at one of those peculiar gatherings that constituted a BBC programme launch party when I was spotted across a crowded room by Clarissa and Jennifer Paterson, who were there to celebrate what was, I think, the last series of Two Fat Ladies. They bore down on me from two sides until I was pinned against a wall (and I do mean pinned; the ladies were not called fat for nothing) and Clarissa, who was well known for loathing carrots, demanded in a stentorian voice: “Now what do you think of cardoons?” I said they were constantly on my mind.

It wasn’t the sort of thing you forget in a hurry, not least because I am especially fond of cardoons and think them among the lost treasures of the English kitchen. They are relatives of the globe artichoke but you eat the leaf stalk not the flower. The only problem is that, like the wonderful Clarissa and Jennifer, they do take up a lot of room.

 

Premier hearts of oak

A tradition has grown up that serving prime ministers plant a tree at Chequers to mark their term of office. Some seem to do it while still in post, others as they depart. I had the interesting experience a little while ago of visiting the Chequers garden and was intrigued to see who had planted what; and then tried to fathom why.

Margaret Thatcher planted a lime, Tony Blair a field maple, Ramsay MacDonald a cedar and Neville Chamberlain a tulip tree. No, I couldn’t see the connection, either. John Major planted a native oak, although I’m unsure which species. No matter, it is the embodiment of our national strength, something you might have expected of Churchill. In fact, Churchill did plant an oak, but not an English oak. For some bizarre reason and presumably at the suggestion of some civil servant whose knowledge of biogeography was no more sensitive than his knowledge of history, I discovered that in 1955 he planted on the east lawn a specimen of Quercus ithaburensis macrolepis, the valonia oak. And where does the valonia originate? It just happens to be one of the most characteristic forest trees of Gallipoli and the area around the Dardanelles. Someone has much to answer for.

 

Sweet spring

There is a problem with apricots. The problem arises because, like most of my generation, I grew up believing they always came in tins. And, so the logic went, anything that comes in a tin is unlikely to grow in a British garden. Yet how wrong a perception this is, because apricots are in truth much more hardy than their close relatives peaches; and even more importantly they are not affected by the scourge of leaf curl disease.

We have had an apricot tree in our garden for years and, believe me, you can gain no greater culinary Brownie point than serving your guests an apricot flan made from home-grown fruit. To be fair, the flowers can be clobbered by a late frost but we still pick a good crop three years in five; and, having just finished the last of the frozen flans from 2013, I am watching anxiously in the hope that this year’s bounteous blossom makes it to full maturity. Apricots are probably best grown against the shelter of a warm wall but can be successful free-standing. Moorpark is still, to my mind, the best variety.

 

A quietly lustful life

Hands up, anyone who knows anything about or has even heard of Harcourt “Crinks” Johnstone. I do not expect much response because he is the lost Liberal, in neither the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography nor the Dictionary of Liberal Biography and with only the most fleeting entry in Who Was Who. Yet after the party leader Archie Sinclair, Crinks was probably the most prominent Liberal in Churchill’s wartime government. Jo Grimond recalled attending as a young man a hare shoot on Sinclair’s Highland estate where Crinks was another guest: “My most notable memory . . . was of a vast and puffing gentleman heaving into sight . . .” he wrote. And Crinks heaved his way through life, overweight, wealthy, genial, extraordinarily generous and passionately Asquithian – he kept a picture of him by his bed. Sexually he was a non-combatant and once told Margot Asquith he had no use for women, adding that he had loved one man in his life and hated another: Asquith the first and Lloyd George the second. At the start of the war, Churchill dragged him from his wilderness of indolence and good living outside parliament to be secretary for overseas trade. But after his death in 1945 “Crinks” simply slipped from history. Does he have a counterpart today?

 

Ramblers will have a blast

It wasn’t exactly the one that flew over the cuckoo’s nest but it certainly flew over a great many other nests and at least one Wiltshire village last week before returning to earth and leaving a six-foot-wide crater. “It” was the misfired shell, for which someone will have to answer, blasted by an artillery piece some five miles beyond bounds on an army firing range on Salisbury Plain.

But the episode did serve as a reminder of what biodiversity treasures the Ministry of Defence has in its care, and in that respect the instruction for us to “keep out” has preserved not only countless creatures and their nests but some exceptional landscape, too. I can remember the revelation some years ago, seeing for the first time stretches of beautiful Dorset coast such as Worbarrow Bay that had eluded me, having been closed on each previous occasion I’d stayed in the area. But I wonder what impact the present military stringencies will have. Will it mean more access for the public, as ranges are closed and troops not available to man them; or will it bring an increased use of home facilities because overseas ranges are too costly to maintain and visit? 

Stefan Buczacki is a biologist and biographer and a former chairman of “Gardeners’ Question Time”. An updated edition of his “Pests, Diseases and Disorders of Garden Plants”, co-written with Keith Harris, will be published by Collins in June

This article first appeared in the 19 March 2014 issue of the New Statesman, Russia's Revenge

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Why Podemos will defeat the Spanish Socialists

A new alliance on the Spanish Left will be stronger than the sum of its parts.

On Saturday morning, on a palm-tree lined promenade in the small city of Badalona in eastern Catalonia, a 38-year-old woman named Mar García Puig fanned herself with her speaking notes after taking her turn on the stage.

Until six months ago, Puig was a literary editor with no professional experience in politics apart from attending demonstrations and rallies. Then, in December, her life was transformed twice over. In the national election, she won a parliamentary seat for En Comú Podem, the Catalan regional ally of the anti-austerity party Podemos. Four hours after she learned of her victory, Puig gave birth to twins.

Fortunately Puig’s husband, who is a teacher, was able to take paternity leave so that she could take up her seat. In parliament, Puig “felt like an alien”, she told me over coffee. As it turned out, she had to give up her seat prematurely anyway – along with all the other Spanish MPs – when repeated attempts to form a government failed. So now, in the lead-up to Spain’s first repeat election of the modern era, to be held on 26 June, Puig was on the campaign trail once more in a drive to win a parliamentary seat.

The December general election was as historic as it was inconclusive, ushering in a novel political era in Spain and leaving the country with the most fragmented parliament in its history. Fed up with corruption, austerity and a weak recovery from the global financial crisis, voters punished the mainstream parties, ending the 40-year dominance of the conservative Partido Popular (People’s Party) and the centre-left PSOE (Spanish Socialist Workers’ Party), which have held power since the death of General Franco. Neither group was able to win an absolute majority as new parties from both ends of the political spectrum garnered support from disenchanted voters.

On the left, Podemos, which was only founded in March 2014 by the ponytailed political scientist Pablo Iglesias, won 20 per cent of the vote. Ciudadanos (Citizens), formed in Catalonia a decade ago and occupying the centre left or centre right, depending on which analyst you talk to, secured a 14 per cent share.

Despite having four months to form a coalition government, the two biggest political parties could not reach a deal. The People’s Party, which had implemented a harsh austerity package over the past five years, recorded its worst electoral performance since 1989, losing 16 percentage points. It still won the most votes, however, and Prime Minister Mariano Rajoy was the first leader to be asked by King Felipe VI to form a government.

By the end of January, Rajoy conceded defeat after the PSOE refused to join his “grand coalition”. The Socialists then failed in their own attempt to form a government, leading the king to dissolve parliament and call a fresh election.

Despite the inconvenience of having to campaign nationwide once again – and being away from her twins – Mar García Puig’s enthusiasm for her new career is undiminished. “In Spain there is a window of opportunity,” she said. “There is a receptiveness to politics that there wasn’t before.”

When the repeat elections were called, some questioned whether Podemos and its regional allies could mobilise its supporters to the same extent as in December. Yet Puig believes that the party’s appeal has grown further in the six months that the country has been without a government. “We are still new and Podemos has this freshness – it can still make people join,” she told me.

The following day, as the church bells rang at noon in the Basque city of Bilbao, crowds gathered for another rally. For protection against the sun, Podemos supporters had covered their heads with purple triangular paper hats displaying the party name as it will appear on the ballot paper: Unidos Podemos, or “United We Can”.

In May, Podemos entered into an alliance with Izquierda Unida (United Left), the radical left-wing party that includes the Communist Party of Spain, and which won 3 per cent of the vote in December. Izquierda Unida is headed by Alberto Garzón, a 30-year-old Marxist economist who, according to a poll by the state-run CIS research institute, is the most highly rated party leader in Spain. Unlike Podemos’s Iglesias, who can fire up a crowd and is seen by some as divisive, Garzón is a calm and articulate politician who appeals to disaffected voters.

Nagua Alba, who at 26 is Podemos’s youngest MP, said the new alliance would be stronger than the sum of its parts, because Spain’s voting system punishes smaller parties when it comes to allocating seats in parliament. “It [the alliance] will attract all those people that aren’t convinced yet. It shows we can all work together,” Alba said.

As part of the agreement with Podemos, Izquierda Unida has agreed to drop its demands for a programme of renationalisation and withdrawing Spain from Nato. The alliance is campaigning on a platform of reversing Rajoy’s labour reforms, removing the national debt ceiling, opposing the TTIP trade deal, and increasing the minimum wage to €900 a month. A Unidos Podemos government would attempt to move the EU’s economic policy away from austerity and towards a more expansionist stance, joining a broader effort that involves Greece, Italy and Portugal. It is also committed to offering the Catalans a referendum on independence, a move that the mainstream parties strongly oppose.

The latest polls suggest that Unidos Podemos will become Spain’s second-biggest party, with 26 per cent of the vote, behind Rajoy’s Popular Party. The Socialist Party looks poised to fall into third place, with 21 per cent, and Ciudadanos is expected to hold its 14 per cent share. If the polls are accurate, the PSOE will face a difficult choice that highlights how far its stock has fallen. It can choose to enter as a junior partner into a coalition with the insurgent left, which has politically outmanoeuvred it. Or it could decide to prop up a Partido Popular-led right-wing coalition, serving as a constraint on power. 

This article first appeared in the 23 June 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Divided Britain