What do we mean by decolonising the British countryside?

I grew up in Birmingham, but spent half-terms and summer holidays in the Lake and Peak Districts, hiking in the mountains, wandering in the countryside, and horseback riding. As an adult, I still love to go out to the countryside and live out my cottage-core fantasy before returning to the city – but for all my enjoyment of quaint village pubs and sausage rolls eaten on a windy hill, I know there is danger in over-romanticising the countryside. Certainly, my existence in rural England is still clouded by the feeling that I shouldn’t be there.

Oftentimes, when I was a kid, my mum and I were often the only Black people in a small village or hamlet – places which are still so white that you have to choose whether you laugh, or treat it as cause for concern. There’s this unspoken assumption that the countryside is for white people. Black and brown people belong in cities. 

Existing in these spaces has not always been easy, and that’s because of the long history of colonialism which contributes to the idea that these spaces are only for the white middle class. I went to ‘Walk Good: in Britain’s colonial countryside,’ an event by Writer’s Mosaic, to hear what other people had to say on the topic.

What do we mean by colonial countryside?

One of the speakers at the event was University of Leicester professor Corrine Fowler, who wrote a book on the colonial historical connections between the English countryside and history. She reminisces on how she faced a huge backlash when she published a report that examined the colonial connections of the British countryside and National Trust properties. 

I, personally, had not been surprised by such a report. The idea that many properties in the country were maintained and built with the proceeds of Britain’s exploitation and plundering of Global South countries is something I’ve learnt through educating myself on Britain’s colonial history. But Fowler receiving backlash also did not surprise me, given there has always seemed to be a national reluctance to fully engage with all the ways in which Britain profited (and still does profit) from its 300+ years of imperial rule across the globe. 

“I think I sort of challenged them,” she explains in response to the moderator’s question about why she took on the report. “We wanted to highlight and explore 10 National Trust properties but I ended up producing an audit of peer-reviewed, academic research on the connections between these properties and colonial enterprise. About a third of properties were highlighted in that report.” 

Learning histories

There are 15 national parks in the UK: ten in England, three in Wales and two in Scotland. That is so much land and history to explore. In recent years, The National Trust has undergone significant overhauls to address issues with the history of many properties residing on these sites. In 2020, to mark the UNESCO Day for the Remembrance of the Slave Trade and its Abolition, the National Trust Twitter account tweeted: “Many of the places we care for have direct or indirect links to slavery, including objects made from materials obtained by forced labour.”

Since then, they have committed to reinterpreting some of their historical sites and engaging with the colonial past of Britain and the properties themselves. For example, at Penrhyn Castle in Bangor, the tour now details the fact that it was built with slave-produced sugar wealth from the Caribbean. It also explains how owners of Penrhyn received compensation from the British taxpayer for lost slave labour, and how some of this was spent on paintings on display in the castle. 

These efforts are a positive step towards creating a countryside that is truly open to everyone. But it has not been without backlash. Responses to the original tweet saw some National Trust members threatening to rescind their memberships, complaining that discussion on the colonial history of its sites was too “political.” 

In failing to engage with the bloody history of some of Britain’s most beautiful areas, we also fail to understand why so many Black and brown people don’t feel welcome there. No one likes to stick out, and no one likes walking around places that were enriched by the pain and suffering of our ancestors. 

Reimagining who the countryside is for

Because of these colonial hangovers, the traditional image of the countryside has often been one of homogeneity, with little representation of Black and brown communities. However,  there is growing recognition of the need to dispel stereotypes and uncover the rich history of the countryside that has been shaped by people from various backgrounds. Acknowledging the diversity that already exists in rural and coastal spaces is crucial for encouraging a more inclusive countryside. 

Two other panellists, poet Roger Robinson and photographer Jonny Pitts, discussed their work looking at the coastal Black experience in Britain. “If you wanted to make a map of Black Britain, you would find it at the coast,” Pitts says. His photography project uncovers the history of places such as Brighton that you would not typically associate with Black people, and Black stories, such as the Portsmouth University Black Audio Film Collective. 

Their joint work was to reveal the lives and experiences of different politics and experiences of Black people who live in places that are incredibly white compared to the city. Sometimes, they shared, people moved out of defiance and to educate people – but many times, their enjoyment of these spaces was what compelled them to stay. 

Next steps, literally

While I enjoy spending hours wandering the countryside alone, I recognise that I’m not in a majority here – but listening to the stories of the panellists made me realise I’m not the only one. And in recent years, many communities have sought to help widen access and organise group events – I’ve found these really encouraging. No matter where you come from, fresh air is a must and there are so many amazing places to explore in what can seem like the middle of nowhere. 

We must acknowledge the history of colonialism, and how this impacts the lack of Black and brown faces in the countryside, but also celebrate the diversity which does now exist, and shapes these spaces now. I for one will not stop going out into the wild, and I hope more people will join me. So, get your hiking boots on and if you see someone looking a little lost in the Peak District with a cup of ice cream, it might be me.