At the end of last year, the Telegraph kicked-off a "campaign" for a British history museum. Hooked on the back of its "Call yourself British campaign", it would hardly be worth a mention if not for the fact that the prime minister saw a potential bandwagon and felt obliged to jump onboard.
Writing in the newspaper, he said: "While so many other countries have a museum dedicated to their history, we in Britain still do not."
Brown added that such a venture would require "considerable" private funding, as well as public money.
Britishness is one of his hobby-horses. Two years ago, Brown proposed that Remembrance Sunday be turned into a national day of patriotism to celebrate British history and achievements.
Ignoring the irony that a right-leaning newspaper, which would normally be opposed to any sort of nanny-state/spoon-feeding-the public-type-gestures, is suddenly in favour of government intervention to create a publicly funded museum, it begs the question as to what such a museum would contain?
Telegraph readers' suggestions ranged from William Shakespeare and Winston Churchill to Led Zeppelin and Brian Clough. But what stories a British history museum would tell is equally tricky.
Such a museum would fail if it didn't explore some of the darker pages and dirtier corners of Britain's story at home and abroad. Would, for instance, the highland clearances, the treatment of the suffragettes, the oppression of colonised peoples and the suppression of organised rebellion feature in Brown's museum?
If they did, would politicians and potential private funders be so keen on the venture? But these stories must be told, otherwise it will be a
one-sided and incomplete version of British history.
A museum created by decree and with the purpose of nurturing an idealised view of Britishness based on a sanitised account of history won't work. A museum of British history is not a bad idea. But in the wrong hands, it could be a disaster.
Sharon Heal, editor
sharon@museumsassociation.org
Writing in the newspaper, he said: "While so many other countries have a museum dedicated to their history, we in Britain still do not."
Brown added that such a venture would require "considerable" private funding, as well as public money.
Britishness is one of his hobby-horses. Two years ago, Brown proposed that Remembrance Sunday be turned into a national day of patriotism to celebrate British history and achievements.
Ignoring the irony that a right-leaning newspaper, which would normally be opposed to any sort of nanny-state/spoon-feeding-the public-type-gestures, is suddenly in favour of government intervention to create a publicly funded museum, it begs the question as to what such a museum would contain?
Telegraph readers' suggestions ranged from William Shakespeare and Winston Churchill to Led Zeppelin and Brian Clough. But what stories a British history museum would tell is equally tricky.
Such a museum would fail if it didn't explore some of the darker pages and dirtier corners of Britain's story at home and abroad. Would, for instance, the highland clearances, the treatment of the suffragettes, the oppression of colonised peoples and the suppression of organised rebellion feature in Brown's museum?
If they did, would politicians and potential private funders be so keen on the venture? But these stories must be told, otherwise it will be a
one-sided and incomplete version of British history.
A museum created by decree and with the purpose of nurturing an idealised view of Britishness based on a sanitised account of history won't work. A museum of British history is not a bad idea. But in the wrong hands, it could be a disaster.
Sharon Heal, editor
sharon@museumsassociation.org
