Our break with Brussels is not so different from our break with Rome
Henry VIII famously brought about England’s last break with the Continent. The randy bugger did it, the cynics say, just so he could get a divorce from his old, Catholic wife and marry a fecund younger model.
A little exhibition of tapestries, put on by Franses Gallery in London, shows that the king understood the importance of portraying his decision in a more refined light.
In the only known depiction of Henry VIII in tapestry form, shortly after he had authorised the first English-language translation of the Bible, the king is shown enthroned before a banner proclaiming: “Preach the Gospel to all creatures!”
Preaching the Bible probably was not top of Henry’s list of priorities when he defied the Pope, but his need to produce an heir was a genuine question of national sovereignty.
When bitter Remainers denounce Brexit as the
Henry’s need to produce an heir was a real question of national sovereignty
result of a “tiff in the Tory party”, I’m reminded of the break with Rome. David Cameron might not have meant to unleash a political revolution, but the Brexiteers are deadly serious about national sovereignty. If only they had a talented propagandist in charge, able to preach their message.
An old BBC report from the Nineties, which surfaced online recently, offers another image of Britain in other times.
It was the height of the mad cow disease panic and a reporter had accosted a shopper outside the supermarket, her bag crammed with beef products.
“I’ve bought the whole lot!” she exclaimed. “It’s all cheap.”
The reporter asked if she was worried about eating it.
“My dear boy,” she said pityingly, “I’m 70, so even if I incubate for 10 years, I don’t mind.
“You know what I mean? I can go mad cow.”
Well, fair enough.