Wales, Israel and Palestine: our connection to the land

The village next to ours, Salem, is named after the chapel built in the 1820s for a once vibrant farming and mining community. From the same root as the Hebrew Shalom and Arabic Salaam, the name also carries associations with Jerusalem, or to give it its Welsh name, Caersalem. The Stronghold of Peace.

Not far away are Moriah (the hill at Jerusalem where Solomon built his temple), Pisgah (the hills east of the Jordan from which Moses caught a glimpse of the Promised Land) and Capel Seion (or Zion). And all over Wales there are dozens of villages with unlikely Middle Eastern names, from Bethlehem and Bethania to Horeb and Nebo.

They bear witness to a time when Wales was a religious nation, and not simply Christian, but deeply identified with the Israelites of the Old Testament. The Welsh found inspiration in the idea that they too were a marginalised people travelling across the wilderness, ‘pilgrim through this barren land’ as the hymn has it, their eyes fixed on a distant horizon.

The Wales/Israel tradition goes back many centuries, as Catholic priest Dorian Llywelyn describes in his 1999 book, Sacred Place, Chosen People. Since then, Wales-based Jewish writer Jasmine Donahaye has examined the relationship from a more political perspective in Whose People: Wales, Israel, Palestine. And because it was under Welsh prime minister and Christian Zionist Lloyd George that the Balfour Declaration was made, it is possible to draw a direct line between Wales and the tragedy that is unfolding in Gaza.

This line would pass through the years when the state of Israel was coming into being, reviving Hebrew as its national language. Inspired by the new state’s success in bringing immigrants up to fluency, and its confident nationhood, Wales adapted the Hebrew Ulpan immersion course as the Wlpan, familiar to so many Welsh learners and still going strong.

But things have changed in recent decades. Welsh sympathies, always with the margins, have moved to the Palestinians who were displaced by the new state. The Welsh Government has sent cash to Gaza and expressed support, while solidarity groups around the country have organised marches and fundraisers for the relief effort.

It is now the Palestinian flag that is everywhere to be seen, while the rich Jewish culture of Wales, linked to immigration during the industrial revolution, is declining. Islam, which has its own religious claim on the Holy Land as well as being the faith of most Palestinians, is now claimed by 2.2% of Welsh people in the 2021 census, again driven by immigration. Nearly half claimed no religion at all.

And yet the place names remain. Wales has covered itself in a blanket of meaning, pegged down at intervals by links to another land which most of us will never visit. It may seem quaint or even disturbing now, but it is too powerful and heartfelt simply to be dismissed as religious and political incorrectness. Perhaps it is due for reinterpretation.

Ultimately, it is about connection to land: the Jews with Israel, the Welsh with Wales. While that can be framed as ownership, a right to be fought over, in a deeper sense it points to the mysterious bonds between soil and society. The story of a journey to a Promised Land expresses the truth that land is sacred, or to put it in secular terms, it has its own integrity and the power to shape our lives. It calls us into a relationship with the soil, rivers and ecosystems that sustain life, inspiring care and respect.

Wales has developed a particularly strong reverence for locality, expressed by terms like cynefin (or rootedness) and milltir sgwar (the square mile in which we conduct our daily lives, or used to). Poets and writers have celebrated the weaving together of a particular people with a particular place, refuting the interchangeability that comes with a global consciousness and celebrating the culture of the local. Farming of course is central to that, as Carwyn Graves has shown in Tir. This sentiment has found a natural resonance in the Bible story of the Israelites, but both could be seen as an expression of a universal truth: all people have a home on this earth, and we should welcome the stranger.

The Old Testament at its best held a vision for the peaceful coexistence of peoples. It was Isaiah who spoke of beating swords into ploughshares, while prophets like Amos and Hosea regularly called for justice and mercy in social affairs. The Welsh tradition of pacifism and internationalism has its roots in the same nonconformity which built the chapels.

Now there are aspirations for Wales to be known as a nation of peace. That will certainly give us some work to do. When Wales chose to link its destiny with this piece of land at the east of the Mediterranean, it entered into a relationship – mainly but not entirely of the imagination – which makes demands on us. How do we make good on this, and serve peace in the Middle East?

Perhaps we might start by dropping the idea of a ‘chosen people’ and concentrate instead on ‘sacred land’. Then the question becomes, how might the land of Israel and Palestine be healed and support a thriving society? This would mean moving the emphasis away from the apportioning of blame, and recognizing that everyone concerned is living out a conflict that has causes beyond ordinary human reckoning. These include geopolitical forces linked to oil and trade routes, ultimately concerned with preserving a modern way of life which is already known to be unsustainable.

A powerful call to Western peacemakers comes from a TED dialogue between American-Israeli Ami Dar and Palestinian Ali Abu Awwad shortly after the Hamas attack of October 2023. Don’t side with Palestine, they say, don’t side with Israel. Don’t fuel the campaigns on either side. Instead, hold a space for a better future where 7 million Israelis and 7 million Palestinians live together respectfully. This means trusting them to work it out – a big ask, it might seem, but surely the only true solution.

Meanwhile, back to the land. One of the most shocking acts of the recent war was the destruction of the Palestinian seedbank at Hebron. Shocking, because seeds adapted to local conditions are the very stuff of the connection between people and land, the source of life itself, beyond nationality. Damage to the Palestinian food system is further described in this petition. And one step up from the land, food aid is still not arriving in the quantities that are needed, a gap that is being filled by mutual aid.

The conflict in Gaza has struck a deep nerve in Wales, and elsewhere, surely in large part for cultural reasons. The Holy Land was the origin of religious movements which have shaped our culture and you don’t have to be Welsh to understand the symbolism of Bethlehem and Jerusalem. But it is also a present-day mirror for us. We too are disconnected from the land in the sense that we have forgotten our dependency on it and stopped caring for it. We too are a divided and unequal society with rifts to heal.  

Sometimes it is easier to see a problem when it plays out in another country. We should certainly do what we can to help in Israel and Palestine, given our hand in creating the situation and because we live in an interconnected world. But we should do it humbly, not presuming to know the answers, and in the spirit of a shared exploration of what it means to be humans living on the earth. Then we must put our own house (and garden) in order.

The chapel at Salem stands empty now and is being sold. The windows are broken and ivy is climbing in, but there is a still a Bible on the lectern and a sense of human presence lingers. This building held the hopes and prayers of a small community. We too can only hope and pray for the wisdom to live better.

Following discussions at the recent Wales Real Food and Farming Conference, a few of us are looking at ways to show support for food and farming in the region. Please get in touch here us if you are interested in this.

Title changed and some small edits made, 5.12.2025

Moving on: from Food Manifesto Wales to CyFAN Cymru

First published on the Food Manifesto Wales website, which is being closed after 10 years

Much has happened since we started the Food Manifesto website in 2015. Food is now well established in Welsh policy, as Food Sense Wales noted earlier this year: the Future Generations office has made food a priority, the government has produced a Community Food Strategy, and serious moves are afoot to supply school meals with organic vegetables. Meanwhile, the FFCC’s Food Conversations are mobilising citizens to shape food strategy, and county farms in Powys and Carmarthenshire are being re-purposed to grow vegetables. The Sustainable Farming Scheme has taken the place of EU’s Common Agricultural Policy, and nature restoration is widely supported, at least in theory. As poverty has intensified, community food initiatives have multiplied and food security is back on the agenda.

These changes have been driven – and followed – by many people and organisations, and it is this widely distributed support that gives the Welsh food movement its power. The Manifesto has been part of that, and it has been a joy to work with so many inspiring people, and see ideals turn into reality. Now as we formally close our website and move into a new phase, it’s time to look back on 10 years of our work and see how far we have come. What has our special contribution been, and what is needed next?

The Wales Food Manifesto was set up by a group of individuals following a conference in Cardiff to mark the end of a project called Food Values, which had been led by Organic Centre Wales (2000-2015, RIP). This brought together activists and academics to find out how people think about food – is it really just all about price? It turned out that people cared about much more. They wanted to see a world where everyone had enough to eat, where food was grown and prepared to high standards, and not wasted, and where children were given the skills to grow and cook together. Ultimately, food was seen as an expression of culture, love and connection.

The idea of the Manifesto was that it would be a set of principles that most people could agree on, whether they were in the food industry or feeding a family (or, of course, both), and which would draw people together across divides. It was also the year that the Well-being of Future Generations Act became law, and so it was natural to map our principles of the Manifesto onto the seven well-being goals. You can see our first draft here.

We built a website and used the Manifesto as a starting point for discussions at food festivals, conferences and community meals. It worked well to start conversations, and we found more and more resonance with work that was going on around Wales, to do with poverty, the environment, farming, food skills and other topics. It did indeed bring people together and articulate what was emerging in Wales, and elsewhere.

There is a limit to what a few individuals can achieve, though. We wondered if we should set up an organisation to hold the Manifesto, and with support from Sustain, RSPB and others, we held a few public meetings to test the water. The enthusiasm was certainly there, but the direction was not clear and so we paused. The website meanwhile became a vehicle to publish a wide range of articles on Welsh food, from beekeeping to nitrate management, from Wales’ role in tropical deforestation to food history. We published nearly 100 blog posts (this is number 98), as well as a Brexit briefing for the Food Research Collaboration.

It was in 2018 that a few of us who were regular attenders of the Oxford Real Farming Conference proposed a session on the Manifesto and the Welsh food movement. The ORFC wanted to encourage regional spin-offs of their popular event and wondered – would we like to use our slot to see if there would be interest in running one in Wales? We did, and there was.

And so in 2019 the Wales Real Food and Farming Conference was held for the first time in Aberystwyth, with Colin Tudge and Ruth West, founders of ORFC, as our guests. Led by people from Aberystwyth University, the RSPB, the Sustainable Food Trust, Organic Farmers and Growers, Garden Organic, Permaculture, Farming Connect and many other organisations, it was an immediate success. It has been held every year since then: twice online because of Covid, then at Lampeter, Ruthin and Lampeter again.

Now we are planning the seventh conference at Bridgend, taking it to South Wales in the run up to the 2026 Senedd election. It will be held on 19-21 November 2025 and will be a partnership with Food Sense Wales. This charity, which began around the same time as us, has done much to advance food system development in Wales, setting up the Food Policy Alliance Cymru and now running the local food partnerships which are tapping into the energy of ‘food citizens’ to drive change.

New organisation

The Conference may be an established event in the calendar, but  just like the Manifesto from which it arose, it still lacks a legal structure or secure funding. We never know from year to year who will organise it or how it will be financed – only that somehow, miraculously, people come forward. Operating on a shoestring is exhilarating but it does limit what is possible and place a strain on volunteers. And so now we are building a charity that will run the WRFFC and take over the legacy of the Manifesto.

We are calling it CyFAN Cymru. This stands for Cymuned Dros Fwyd, Amaeth a Natur, or Community for Food, Agriculture and Nature, with the added benefit that Cyfan is Welsh for ‘whole’, expressing the way that food brings all aspects of life together. The plan is that CyFAN Cymru will not only be a vehicle for the Conference but will build on it, with year-round events and publications. We have already held two online seminars and have ideas for more.

It has a website, www.cyfancymru.wales, and you can find us on LinkedIn as well. Please take a look and sign up for our newsletter. The Food Manifesto will be archived here and eventually absorbed into CyFAN Cymru.

We are also looking for more trustees to join our board, as we prepare our application to the Charity Commission. That means articulating what exactly we bring to the food movement. We know that people come to our conference year after year, and we get more session proposals than we can fit into the programme, but why exactly? Perhaps it is because, like the original Food Values project, we ask what it is that people care most deeply about and we stand for those values.

We bring together people who are doing what they believe in – on farms, in our communities, in our workplaces – and we nurture the vision that arises from that. Where there is conflict, we look for points of connection, valuing complexity. We value service and the wisdom that comes with years of experience, as the ground from which innovation arises. We provide a space for reflection in a world that invites us to rush from success to success. We see that we are ‘all in this together’ and we provide comfort for people who are struggling on their own. We build community without, we hope, being a clique.

To put it grandly, with the Conference we create people-centred spaces where the food movement, and wider society, can renew itself. Please come and join us at CyFAN Cymru.

Image: Aber Food Surplus is one of many community food projects that are bringing the concept of sustainable food for all on to the high street

Reflections on the sixth Wales Real Food and Farming Conference

Originally posted on the WRFFC website here. I wasn’t on the committee this year so I had a good view of things.

This year was the sixth WRFFC, and what a long way we have come!  The structure has not changed much, although this year the addition of artists and a closing ceremony brought an extra dimension.  But as relationships have built over the years, and the sense of an interconnected food system has grown, so it has become clearer what the event can achieve.  Like a mushroom emerging periodically from an underground mycelium, it allows us to sound the depths while connecting with present challenges.

Extreme weather is one of those, and it struck on the first day.  Guest speaker Derek Walker, the Future Generations Commissioner had to call in from his car, and the party from Farms for City Children missed the session altogether.  Fortunately, another school group was able to bring their appearance forward and so we heard instead from Ysgol y Dderi, in nearby Llangybi.  As one of them said, describing a visit to nearby Bwlchwernen Fawr:

“While we were there, we met Patrick Holden and his sons who were busy harvesting organic carrots for schools in Carmarthenshire.  This made the children of Ysgol y Dderi very cross.  Why can’t we have Bwlchwernen carrots?”

Now, thanks to Castell Howell and Food Sense Wales’ Veg in Schools project, and a lot of letter-writing by the children, they are promised the carrots for their Christmas dinner.  Patrick Holden bounded on to the stage brandishing a bunch of carrots.

Ysgol y Dderi have been doing outstanding food education for many years and their headteacher Heini Thomas spoke at the WRFFC in 2022.  And she had helped organise an organic school meal as far back as 2003, for Ysgol Dihewyd, in the days of Organic Centre Wales and Antur Teifi.  The present project has roots in Food for Life, an initiative that was being talked about at the Soil Association’s conferences in Cirencester over 20 years ago.  We are in it for the long haul.

The Nature Friendly Farming Network has been a strong supporter of the event since we began in 2019, and they put on an inspiring session about farmer successes, to which Deputy First Minister Huw Irranca-Davies was a last-minute addition.  As the Sustainable Farming Scheme and the Community Food Strategy near their delivery dates and set the scene for the food system in Wales, let us hope that there is a good balance between inclusivity and high standards.

Ariel view of farmyard, buildings, fields and hedges.
Bremenda Isaf County Farm

Local Food Partnerships now cover all of Wales and are at various stages of development; Bwyd Sir Gar’s project to convert a county farm from dairy to vegetables (see image above) is an ambitious and symbolic step.  The Food Policy Alliance Cymru is leveraging this popular support to drive the call for a national Welsh food strategy.

But all this change is driven ultimately by human relationships, and it was guest speaker Denise Bentley of the First Love Foundation who brought that into focus on the second day.  As the Foundation’s website says, they “show empathy where there may not have been empathy previously”.  She was talking about the people who come to their advice centre in Tower Hamlets but the same applies to the conference.  Human connection makes things happen.

We also need to see ourselves as part of bigger systems, and recognise how poverty, poor diets and environmental destruction are not about individual failure as much as a society that is organised along the wrong lines.  For Denise, and also Pearl Costello of Food Cardiff responding to her talk, community food projects are about building the social structures and culture that can support a better food economy.  They are not the answer to food poverty, to which the solution is money, and the dignity that it brings.

As ever, much of the value of the conference was the conversations in between the sessions, and over food, which this year was a triumph of local and organic sourcing, thanks to chef Barny Haughton and University of Wales Trinity St David’s Kevin Hodson.  It’s in this social space that friendships are renewed, and random encounters reveal new possibilities.  It can also be a space for contemplation and sideways thinking, and Carreg Creative’s ‘Wrth wraidd – at root’ was a popular space for exploring unanswered questions through soil, vegetables, writing and talk.  And we can’t wait for ‘Food – the Musical!’ which started life in a workshop of that name.

Many sessions responded to the need to bring people together, in a world where algorithms drive us apart.  ‘Why farmers and ecologists need each other’ was one such, led by the Chartered Institute of Ecology and Environmental Management, and Cardiff University’s ‘creating spaces of learning across difference’ was another.  Discussions on agroecology explored how food, farming and society are all linked and must be considered as a whole, while other sessions looked at drawing more of the public into the food movement.

Another role of the conference is to shine a spotlight on knotty technical questions and look for creative solutions.  A session on the role of farm data in preparing for the Sustainable Farming Scheme was popular, while others examined the tensions between values-based farming and automation, the balance between conservation grazing and beef production, and the logistics of public procurement. It was new this year to have a closing ceremony.  Angharad Wynne invited us to set an intention for the following year and take a handful of wheat seed home with us to sow.  Our wishes were a mixture of the serious and the funny, the high-flown and the everyday, and all of it held lightly and with warmth.  When we sow the seeds next year, these intentions will become the crops we harvest, real or virtual.  Whether or not you attended our conference, may 2025 be a fulfilling year for all of us.

Image: Jeremy Moore.

Tir: a story to reconnect people and land

In his earlier book Welsh Food Stories, Carwyn Graves took nine familiar foods, from cheese and salt to apples and bread, and traced their origins back through history, revealing a richness to our food culture that goes far beyond the cliches of Welsh cakes, cawl and laverbread.

Now, with Tir: The Story of the Welsh Landscape, he starts at the other end of the food chain, looking at land use and tracing how it has evolved since humans began to cultivate the soils of what is now Wales. He takes seven types of landscape and describes how the constraints of geology and climate have shaped their use, co-evolving with human society and culture.

Retaining the Welsh terms for their subtleties of meaning, he has chapters on coed (woodland), cloddiau (the plural of clawdd, a hedgerow or earth bank), cae (fields for grazing), ffridd (the shrubby area between hill and lowland), mynydd (‘mountain’, but also dry rough grazing), rhos (heath, wetter moor and bog) and perllan (orchards, with grazing). For each one he describes their development, delving into sources as diverse as archaeology, lives of the saints, monastery records, legal documents, poetry and interviews with people who remember the traditional methods.

This book is about science and geography as much as history. There was wisdom in the old ways which met human needs for food, timber, clothing, fuel, medicine and much else, while also supporting a rich wildlife. Much of this biodiversity is now tragically lost, along with the human communities that kept it all going. Fragments do remain however, such as the very few hay meadows to have escaped ‘improvement’ into ryegrass monoculture, and he meets farmers who do what they can to preserve them, as well as incomers who have reinvented traditional methods in the modern context.

The chapter on ffridd is particularly intriguing. This is the transitional zone between the intensively farmed lowland fields around the farm and the summer-grazed mountain in mid and north Wales. Often following the snowline and the springline, neither upland nor lowland, a mixture of grassland, trees and scrub, it has many agricultural functions, including early spring feed and shelter for lambs. It is also rich in wildlife; a 1980s study found that ffridd supported a higher density of tree pipits, yellowhammers, linnets, twites and whinchats than any other landscape in Wales. A liminal zone, celebrated in poetry but now obscured by government plantation of conifers and changes in farming practices, it has slipped away almost unnoticed.

Implied in this book is a powerful call for doing things differently. The past encodes a system of principles for living on the land which could give us a way through the crises that beset us now. But how do we do this? Is it even possible?

A vision of unity

Tir demonstrates through a multitude of examples the essential unity of farming and nature, people and land. In this it echoes David Elias’ book Shaping the Wild, which describes in fine-grained detail the shifting relationship between food production and wildlife on a single farm near Bala. Government policy attempts to fit them together again, but the forces of social change and global commerce work powerfully in the opposite direction, at least for now.

As we contemplate what we have lost, ideologies rip through the public consciousness like fire across a summer-scorched hillside, creating more heat than light. Rewilding is one, and it haunts the pages of the book; clearly it is intended as a refutation of the cruder forms of that approach, while sharing its vision for the return of wildlife. Decolonization and indigineity are others, and Graves is at pains not to compare the Welsh people with native Americans. Nor does he encourage Welsh exceptionalism, welcoming the contributions of many incomers. We are all in this together.

Instead he suggests an approach that finds meaning in the concrete and the particular. Start with this cae (a field for livestock, we learn, as opposed to a maes which would be ploughed, perhaps for cereals), that oak tree, those blackbirds: go outside and meet them, get to know them, as Dafydd ap Gwilym showed us back in the fourteenth century. Find out how to grow and gather a healthy and varied diet from the land, whether by farming, gardening, foraging or fishing, and put it into practice. Take inspiration from an old, unifying story of the human home which, while universal, does seem to be particularly strong in Wales, with its cynefin and hiraeth.

Sensitive territory

It will not be easy. This book probes deep cultural nerves, whether those of the native Welsh who feel variously grief and guilt for their lost language and culture, or incomers wondering whether they can ever truly belong. The modern sins of colonization, cultural appropriation and the commodification of culture loom large for tender consciences, while the tendency to blame and diagnose drives people apart, and there are hard practical problems like river pollution to solve.

On the positive side however, there is a growing understanding of the crisis of modernity and a determination to create something better, with many opportunities to be part of something good. Graves offers a story here in which everyone who cares about the Welsh countryside, wildlife and a just society can find themselves, facing the tough existential questions together.

This is the aim for instance of the Wales Real Food and Farming Conference, at which Graves last year chaired sessions on language, farming and wildlife, while others discussed topics such as community gardening, growing vegetables for school meals and beekeeping. It is also the spirit that runs through the organic movement, permaculture, agroecology and regenerative farming, as well as the local food partnerships supported by the Welsh Government and Graves’s own new project, Cegin y Bobl.

Others have been bringing a more direct approach to reviving traditional farming wisdom. Besides the many examples in Tir, I’m reminded of Eryri smallholder Chris Dixon’s fusion of Welsh farming patterns with the principles of Permaculture design (see his wonderful account of ffridd). In my own patch, the Dyfi Biosphere, the Tyfu Dyfi project is building on an earlier study of mixed farming in the area to revive the practice of growing vegetables on farms, once again putting farming at the centre of community life.

Tir is a call, all the more powerful for being implied rather than spelt out, for a realignment of our food system so that it works not just for the environment and our physical nourishment but our deepest spiritual needs as well. We don’t know what that will look like yet, but we have some pointers and it is never too late to try.

Creating new food traditions, or how we did a wassail

It’s a cliché, but true nonetheless, that our society has lost contact with the land. In particular, we do not pay much attention to where our food comes from and forget that the natural world is crucial to our survival. Wildlife organisations do all they can to remind us of this fact, and there is an abundance of scientific evidence too, yet somehow it bypasses our consciousness. Witness the media indifference to the recent Restore Nature Now event protest in London.

Perhaps we need a more direct and personal approach. At this year’s Hay Festival there was a warm reception for Robin Wall Kimmerer, US author of Braiding Sweetgrass, who blends knowledge from her career as a plant scientist with the traditions passed down through her Native American ancestry, to the enrichment of both strands of human understanding.

She writes in particular about her own practice of putting people in touch with soil, rivers and plants. This featured too in a session on native wisdom traditions at this year’s Oxford Real Farming Conference, where Angharad Wynne from Wales was a speaker. “When you bring people together in a space where the aim is to build community and honour the space, magical things happen,” she said, emphasising also the need to ‘welcome the stranger’. [59-61 mins]

With all this in mind, it was exciting to be part of a new venture on my own patch, a wassailing ceremony at Gogerddan Heritage Orchard near Aberystwyth. How do you start a new tradition? The orchard is just seven years old and its 250 trees are planted scientifically in rows so it’s hardly a repository of ancient lore. Wales might have a fine tradition of orchards with accompanying cultural events, as Carwyn Graves describes in his Apples of Wales, but they have long died out and there are no obvious instructions for how to do our own.

But the will was there, and we worked with what we had. The initial impetus came from Olga, one of the Aberystwyth Conservation Volunteers who have been involved with the orchard from the start. She had been to wassailing events in London so was familiar with the basic plan: tie toast to the trees, read them poems, chuck cider at them, make a noise, and celebrate, all with the general intention of encouraging them to fruit well that year.

Meanwhile Welsh apple enthusiasts had recently decreed that 9 February, the birthday of St Teilo, should be a national day of apple activity. That gave us our date.

Then there was the place. The orchard is in the grounds of Plas Gogerddan, home of the former Welsh Plant Breeding Station led by Sir George Stapledon, whose scientific approach to farming was mixed with visionary idealism; he would probably have approved. Just up the road in the village of Penrhyncoch lives Rhiannon Ifans, author of Sers a Rybana, a study of Welsh-language wassailing songs. Local residents Brenda and Eleri chose verses from the book and set them to suitable tunes, so we had Welsh wassails alongside the English ones. Olga also invited musicians from Twmpath Aberystwyth, who provided an accordionist and a fiddler.

Pig Aderyn

We gathered after dark, some 20 or 30 of us, set up our things on a picnic table and got to it. We chose three trees to honour. The first was Pig Aderyn, a cider variety from St Dogmael’s Abbey, which some of us had helped harvest last year. A sprawling, ungainly tree with masses of red fruit, the stalk sometimes resembling a bird’s beak, there are several specimens in the orchard and the fruit last year went into a single variety cider. We read it an English poem, splashed it with cider and banged saucepans.

On then to Marged Nicholas, a dignified old lady with a strong upright habit. Marged comes from Carmarthenshire and is a cooking, eating and cider variety. Her fruit had made it into a general mix for cider, and she got a Welsh wassail.

Court of Wick

I can’t remember what the third variety was – it was dark and hard to find the right tree – but I know which it should have been: Court of Wick. This is a prolific variety from Somerset, very good for eating. With a flavour somewhere between a Cox and a Russet, the apples are small and nutty with a red blush and gold flecks. There are eight of this variety in the orchard and last year we saved the fruit for distribution to local primary schools. We’d even walked a gang of five-year-olds half an hour each way from their school to help with the picking one sunny September afternoon.

Afterwards there was celebration with music, dancing, cider and apple juice, before we tidied up and went home. What surprised me was how easily the event flowed, without any artificiality. It seemed quite natural to express gratitude for last year’s harvest and joy at the thought of next year’s. How miraculous that apples should exist in such abundance and variety, and that there are insects to pollinate them, and sunshine and rain to make them grow.

While we’re at it, how wonderful that publicly funded projects administered in offices should generate whole orchards for our benefit, and that university staff and volunteers should come forward to care for them. What a privilege to be able to collect and distribute their fruit, and how we hope that the next season will be as good.

Plans were immediately made to celebrate Orchard Blossom Day in April, this time in daylight, and with poetry and more dancing, and we did that too (see the amateur video). No doubt there will be more celebrations at harvest time.

These are strange times, as it can feel that the natural world is collapsing around us, and that humanity is bringing about its own destruction. But this is no time to despair. The message I took away from these orchard events is that it’s not hard to make a connection with the trees and the soil, and with each other. We just need to be willing to try.

Harvesting Pig Aderyn

Putting farming in the context of wider society – the work of WRFFC

Republished from the WRFFC website. We’ve now done five of these events and people still worry that we don’t have enough farmers. I wrote this to explain why we have exactly the right number.

People who have been to the Wales Real Food and Farming Conference, which has now been held every November since 2019, tend to speak highly of it. They say how much it inspired them, how much they learned and how good it was to spend time with like-minded people. And then often, as if they might have been taken in by something too good to be true, they will add: “but how many farmers do you actually have?”

The short answer, at least at Lampeter in 2022 for which we did analyse the ticket sales as best we could, is about 13%, together with a similar number of growers, and a further set of consultants and advisers working with them, so that perhaps 30% of the delegates were closely connected to commercial land management. That may not seem a very high percentage for a farming conference, but it makes perfect sense for an event that aims to put farming in a wider context.

First of all though, let’s look at the question. Why are people so keen to see a good turnout of farmers? Certainly, there is concern about intensive farming methods and a desire from some to have that debate head on. And others see that farmers might be missing out on something that would be very helpful to them. Ultimately though, I think the concern is that if farmers are not part of the discussion, then it loses credibility.

This reflects an understanding that farmers (and growers, and fishers) manage a vital connection between human society and the natural world. Farming poses dilemmas that relate to the economy, food security, wildlife, flood management, animal welfare, tourism, the Welsh language and health, to name just a few. The heat and sometimes acrimony associated with these topics – most recently, tractor protests against the Sustainable Farming Scheme – is a measure of how much is at stake, for all of us.

But land management and our food supply are too important to be left to farmers and growers alone. There is some justice in the complaint that farmers are being required to shoulder much of the burden of achieving Net Zero while the rest of us carry on much as before. How many of us, going round the supermarket with our trolleys, check labels to see where our meat, veg and milk came from and how they were grown, and choose to reward good farming practices out of our own wallets? How many of us have created wildlife habitats in our gardens, or reined in our car use, or supported projects that share cooking and gardening skills in the community?

The debate must go wider, and that’s why we have the other 70% of the delegates: community food organizers, nutritionists, environmentalists, food businesses, vets, educators and food traders, to name a few. Farmers are at the sharp end of food production, and we need to build a healthy food system around them. That is ultimately the purpose of our event.

At our fifth conference in the agricultural college at Llysfasi, we had sessions on farming itself, looking for instance at flood management, livestock health, emissions from dairy farming and soil analysis. But we also explored local food trading, community composting, beekeeping, seed saving and a host of other topics, illustrating how food runs through our society and connects us all. Iwan Edwards’ talk following wildlife from gardening to the landscape was a particularly powerful statement of that, and Prof Tim Lang’s call for a civil food resilience framework was the inspiring conclusion.

This isn’t just about showing the network of transactions that links the farm (whether in Wales or elsewhere) with the table. More fundamentally it is about building a culture of respect and a sense of community. This in turn creates the safety that arises from deep commitment and allows difficult questions to be faced. Farmers are facing tough challenges at the moment, but they are going to come to all of us in the end. We need to stick together and work things out.

It helps here to have a vision. A healthy soil is the foundation of healthy crops and livestock and therefore of human society: that was the founding principle of the Soil Association (hence its name) and a similar vein of thought runs through the later arrivals to the progressive farming movement, notably regenerative farming and agroecology. That is a view which has wide intuitive appeal, and it gives farming (and growing) a central and honourable role in a greater whole. It is that whole that the conference exists to serve.

In a session on ‘the way forward for farming and nature in Wales’, which featured three farmers, it was interesting that the conversation moved towards public education and school visits. I think it is in these settings that we can ask the most fundamental questions about what farming is for and where food comes from, and begin to mend the gap between farming and the towns and cities most of us live in. It was heartening to hear in other sessions the work now being done on school meals in Wales, which draws on earlier work by the Soil Association’s Food for Life programme, and by the local food partnerships.

Finally, the conference is about personal stories. In the opening session, Llysfasi principal Elin Roberts drew a line between her grandmother’s resourceful farm diversification a century ago and the creative drive of the students at Llysfasi, while Sarah Dickins, organic farmer and former BBC correspond remembered the miners’ strike that she covered early in her career in calling for a just transition to agroecological farming. We are all in this together.

And so the question is not “how many farmers came to the conference” but “what quality of connection did the conference make between farmers and the rest of the food system?” On that measure, I think we did very well.

Image: Amber Wheeler

Attending the Wales Real Food and Farming Conference is a political act

As the Wales Real Food and Farming Conference fast approaches, on 1-2 November, it’s strange to think that this is our fifth one. Each one has been so different that it’s hard to see them as a series. Following the model of the Eisteddfod (but minus the Pavilion!), we move around Wales and reflect the character of a different locality, combining it with the latest twists in the national policy scene.

This year we’re at Coleg Cambria Llysfasi, the agricultural college near Ruthin, Denbighshire. Northeast Wales may not get much national airtime, but it has a thriving food culture. Pioneering agroecological farmers, community groups, producer groups and food businesses abound, and are populating the programme, just out.

And after two days of intense conference activity – including a dinner with entertainment on the Wednesday night – there will be field trips to local farms and food projects on the Friday, following last year’s popular innovation. Meanwhile, catering by Coleg Cambria’s Yale Restaurant, featuring a mix of local and organic ingredients, will provide an inspiring example of how food culture can stimulate agroecological production.

Local and national

The purpose of the event is to bring Welsh food activity together, so that everyone involved in food – which is all of us, ultimately – can see the bigger picture of which we are all part. There is certainly plenty happening in Wales.

Opening the event will be Sarah Dickins, familiar to many as the BBC’s former economics correspondent, and who is also an organic farmer in Monmouthshire and member of the Wales Carbon Net Zero 2035 group. Closing it will be Tim Lang, with a powerful message about how Wales must adjust to the global challenge of food security.

In between, we will hear from the new local food partnerships that are springing up across north Wales, consider the potential of repurposing county farms, examine what the Sustainable Farming Scheme means for the relationship between food production and nature, looking at the true cost of food production and how it is to be paid for, and asking how we can square healthy affordable food with good livelihoods for producers.

As well as policy, there will be plenty of discussion of the practicalities of food production, including beekeeping, perennial green manures, profitable business models for small-scale growing, hydroponics, sharing growing skills in the community, medicinal plants and homeopathy for livestock health, and heritage apple orchards. There will also be interactive networking sessions, and permission to sit in the cafe or go for a walk if you need some space to think.

Food citizens

Inevitably the conference will involve much technical discussion between public and voluntary sector staff, but at the heart of the conference is the food citizen. That means that whatever hat we wear, whatever tribe we belong to, we show up as people who belong to families and communities, appreciate the place of the human family in the natural world, and are prepared to take responsibility for this.

That is why we are delighted that while we are hosted by Llysfasi, we are also being welcomed by local groups such as Ruthin Friends of the Earth and Denbigh Community Food, who are helping variously with facilitation, stewarding and publicity, and by Denbighshire County Council’s Clwydian Range and Dee Valley Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty.

Real change must come from the grassroots, so that we take people with us. But citizen action needs to mesh with public services, and so this year we are inviting ‘keynote listeners’ from Welsh Government and the Future Generations Office to attend the event and feed back their impressions in the final session.

As the new Future Generations Commission Derek Walker has chosen food as one of the focus areas for his seven-year term, this gives us a special opportunity. How exactly do ordinary citizens, concerned perhaps about river pollution, animal welfare, the rise of food banks and disappearing farm birds, influence public policy? How do we amplify their voices, while also bringing in the rigour of scientific knowledge and ensuring fairness for competing demands?

A political act

Attending the conference, then, is not just an entertaining couple of days out. It is a political act, where we come to learn, make new connections and above all show our faith in a better way of doing things. It is a positive choice for the future and a step into leadership.

We have had to put our prices up this year (although please note that the booking fee has gone). That’s partly inflation, and partly because last year we had extra sponsorship which meant we could keep prices down. As ever, we are very grateful to this year’s sponsors whose generosity makes the event possible, along with our volunteers, chairs and speakers. We hope that you will support us again and join the movement for good food in Wales.

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Intensive Poultry Units and the Well-being of Future Generations Act

Article published by the Institute of Welsh Affairs on 4 April 2023

A public demonstration against intensive poultry units (IPUs) outside the Senedd on 15 February was just the latest eruption of public concern over the pollution of the Wye, Severn and their tributaries, which is blamed on the explosion of intensive poultry farming in Powys over recent years.

This demonstration was organised by grassroots community group Sustainable Food Knighton who successfully brought a case against Powys County Council in 2020 after they gave permission for a new poultry unit without proper consideration of the environmental impact. The event brought together a range of concerns. 

River pollution was the primary focus of campaigner Angela Jones with her ‘Death of the Wye’ coffin. Nutrients from livestock manure and fertiliser running into rivers cause algal blooms followed by a serious loss of biodiversity, and it’s not just IPUs. Dairy farming, horticulture and sewage are also implicated. 

For the rest of this article, which discusses the role of the Welsh government and the Future Generations Office and calls for stronger citizen involvement in the food system, see the IWA website.

Image: Sustainable Food Knighton

The power of food businesses to do good

One dark, damp evening just before Christmas, my partner and I turned up at a local supermarket. The Fresh Produce Manager, who was expecting us, proudly handed over thirteen crates of assorted produce and helped us stack them in our campervan. There were carrots, satsumas, potatoes, grapes, parsnips, Brussels sprouts, little pots of fresh herbs, lettuces, a melon or two and a LOT of beetroot. All appeared to be in perfect condition, but there was one thing wrong.  They had passed their Best Before date and would be thrown out unless we could use them quickly.

The next day we dropped the food off at various charities around town. Several crates, including the sprouts and satsumas, would find their way into a church Christmas dinner, and a hostel for homeless people took much of the rest. It was satisfying to think of the herbs going into stuffing, of the fruit sitting in a bowl to grace the hostel table, of the solid nutrition for people who perhaps didn’t always eat so well, and even of the cash that hard-pushed charities could save on their bills.

We were working a shift for a surplus food distribution group that sprang up recently in response to public outcry about food waste. According to FAO figures, roughly one third of all food grown is lost or wasted at some point between the farmer’s field and our stomachs. It is built into the way food is handled, from the outgrading of misshapen fruit and the Buy One Get One Free offers that encourage customers to buy more than they need, to the public expectation that shops will always be stocked with everything and the fact that for most of us food is cheap enough to waste.

Surplus food waste redistribution takes many forms. There are dedicated organizations such as FareShare, community fridges both literal and virtual, apps and surplus food cafes. Where I live, a group of volunteers pick up produce from two supermarkets which they pass on to a handful of charities. Once a month or so they use it for a community meal, bringing people together and raising money for local causes like the community garden.

There is no doubt that the exchange meets a need on both sides. Supermarkets hate the bad press that results from sending perfectly good food to landfill while demand for food banks is rising, and for charities and community groups it’s a nearly-free resource that can save money, generate goodwill and bring people together. But it’s worth a look at what going on under the surface.

THE SHIFT FROM CONSUMER TO CITIZEN

Talking to shop staff it’s clear how much they enjoy the chance to do something useful. After all, it’s their local community too. For every supermarket worker who sticks to their job description and accepts the routine waste of good food, another is thrilled to do a bit extra. As we accepted our random abundance of food from the supermarket worker that December evening, our shared good deed felt like a triumph of common sense over the system, and we celebrated.

What if that spirit of common humanity was allowed to direct our food system? The story of profits and shareholders is not the only one. It’s a noble calling to feed people, as food businesses do, and we are missing something if we assume that making money is what they are ‘really’ about.  As Henry Ford said, “A business that makes nothing but money is a poor business”.  We need to tell a bigger story.

In our local communities we know the power of relationship and generosity. We sense that it’s a stronger story in the end than the one about money. And that spirit lives just as strongly in the people who work in the food industry. Now is the time to name it, so that we unleash the power of business to do good: for our health, for our farming systems, for our communities.

It’s the shift from the consumer to the citizen. One is passive, the other is able and ready to help shape the world in which they live. In the UK the New Citizenship Project has been asking: Could a small shift in thinking – from Consumer to Citizen – make a big difference in our food system? Let’s see what we come up with.

 

chefs serving soup

Bringing Aberystwyth around the table

This article originally appeared in Aberystwyth’s Ego magazine

A large glass jar is crabottles of sauerkrautmmed with chopped white cabbage, carrots and apple, mixed with some salt. As each layer goes in, it’s bashed with a wooden pestle. Finally the jar is full and the vegetables are pushed down under the brine that’s naturally formed, and set aside to pickle over the next few weeks.

We’re here to learn the art of making sauerkraut, from fermentation expert and food writer Annie Levy, who’s come over from Llanidloes for the evening. The demonstration over, we sit down to dinner. There are about 25 of us gathered in St Paul’s Methodist Centre enjoying a selection of curries and we’re part of a Pay As You Feel pop-up community café, making new friends over food and developing plans to change the food culture of Aberystwyth.

For the Aberystwyth Food Forum, food isn’t about fine dining so much as bringing a community together through food. Some of the vegetables in the meal have been supplied by AberFoodSurplus who collect waste food from local supermarkets. So far, they have set up links between Morrisons and local charities including the Wallich, the Salvation Army, and the Care Society. They have also provided food for educational events that have aimed to raise awareness about food waste, including one at the university.

The group has plans to do much more, so that all the food that supermarkets reject – perfectly good to eat, but needing to be used promptly – goes to a good home. They want to engage with more retailers and charities and have had interest from several other businesses in town. To do this, they are seeking premises to cope with the large volumes of food available, and maintain health and safety standards.

The Forum also wants to involve more people in growing food, whether in community gardens, on allotments or at home, and to work with schools, the university, local farms, cafes and others to bring people together over healthy food that invigorates the local economy and builds social links.

You can find us on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/groups/aberfoodforum and on Twitter.