In a turn of events that would make even George Orwell put down his quill in disbelief, a new campaign has emerged from the depths of the British countryside, led by none other than Ed Swales, the chair of the increasingly eccentric pro-foxhunting group, Hunting Kind. This group has taken it upon themselves to claim that foxhunters should be recognised as a protected ethnic minority. Yes, you read that right. An ethnic minority.
In a country where cultural diversity is celebrated, where ethnic minorities fight for recognition and equality, Swales and his merry band of tweed-clad comrades have somehow convinced themselves that the age-old sport of chasing down a terrified fox with a pack of hounds is a cultural heritage under threat. The logical gymnastics required to arrive at this conclusion are truly Olympic in scale.
Ed Swales, a man who appears to believe that an overabundance of red trousers qualify him and his merry band of killers as cultural pioneers, have been touring the country in his Land Rover Defender, spreading the gospel of the oppressed foxhunter. One might imagine that the hardships of this so-called minority include such grave injustices as having to clean one’s own boots or the harrowing experience of purchasing less than premium brand port. Yet, Swales insists that the plight of the foxhunter is one of genuine suffering, akin to that of historically marginalised communities.
“We are the guardians of a tradition that dates back centuries,” Swales proclaimed at a recent gathering of Hunting Kind, his voice quivering with the passion of a man who has clearly spent too much time around horse manure. “Our way of life is being eroded by an urban elite who simply do not understand our culture. We are as much an ethnic group as the Scots, the Welsh, or the Irish, and we demand recognition and protection under the law.”
Swales also said without a hint of irony:
“I can tell you for a fact it is not cruel because I take no delights in the suffering of an animal. I am as animal welfare friendly as anyone I have come across, and my hunting compatriots are the same.”
To the untrained ear, this might sound like the deranged ramblings of a man who has taken one too many tumbles off his horse, but Swales is deadly serious. He argues that the foxhunter’s attire, language, and customs constitute a distinct cultural identity. After all, who could forget the rich heritage of double-barrelled surnames and the ancient dialect of ‘Tally-ho’?
Swales’ campaign has naturally been met with widespread bemusement, not least from the actual ethnic minorities who have spent decades fighting for their rights in a society that often treats them as second-class citizens. The idea that a group of predominantly wealthy, privileged landowners should be given the same legal protections as, say, the Windrush generation is nothing short of farcical.
But it seems that no one has told Ed Swales. In fact, Hunting Kind has gone so far as to spend three years preparing a legal challenge that had now been reviewed by a human rights KC “who sits on the council of the European court of human rights”, demanding that foxhunters be recognized as a distinct ethnic group.
“Every year, more of our hunting grounds are lost to urban sprawl,” Swales laments, as if the idea of a housing estate being built on the edge of his 200-acre property is a personal affront. “Our children are being taught in schools that hunting is wrong, that it’s cruel. This is cultural erasure, plain and simple. If we do not act now, we risk losing our heritage forever.”
One might suggest that the most effective way to preserve their so-called heritage would be to put it in a museum where it belongs, rather than continuing to terrorise wildlife in the name of sport. But Swales is adamant that foxhunting is not just a pastime; it is a way of life, passed down through the generations like a hereditary peerage or a particularly stubborn case of gout.
The absurdity of the situation is not lost on the general public, who have taken to social media in droves to mock the campaign. One particularly viral tweet suggested that if foxhunters were to be recognised as an ethnic minority, then perhaps those who enjoy rain dancing or collecting used durex’s should also be given protected status. After all, why should one eccentric hobby be given preferential treatment over another?
Even among the hunting community, there are those who feel that Swales and his followers have taken things a step too far. “I’ve been hunting all my life,” says Sir Reginald Pompous-Rumpus, a longtime member of Hunting Kind. “But this talk of being an ethnic minority is absolute tosh. We’re not persecuted; we’re just despised by those with any form of conscience. There’s a difference.”
Indeed, it seems that Swales’ campaign is less about protecting a culture under threat and more about refusing to accept that times have changed. The reality is that foxhunting, once considered a noble psychopathic pursuit, is now widely seen as outdated and cruel, a relic of a bygone era. But rather than accepting this and moving on, Swales and his cronies are determined to dig in their heels and demand recognition for what they see as their birthright.
As a petition gains signatures – though one suspects that many of these are from lackies rather than genuine supporters – it remains to be seen whether Parliament will actually take it seriously. One can only hope that our elected representatives have more pressing concerns than debating whether or not Ed Swales should be allowed to add ‘ethnic minority leader’ to his already inflated sense of self-importance.
In the meantime, the rest of us can only watch in disbelief as the foxhunting lobby continues its descent into madness. It’s a sad state of affairs when a group of people who have everything – wealth, privilege, access to vast swathes of the countryside – still feel the need to play the victim. Perhaps the real lesson here is that no amount of money or power can protect you from the consequences of your own ridiculousness.
So, here’s to Ed Swales and Hunting Kind: a group so out of touch with reality that they’ve managed to turn a dying tradition into a full-blown farce. Long may they continue to provide us with material for satire, if nothing else.
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