J.D. Vance has taken over my village. Send help

The tiny Oxfordshire village of Dean has an unexpected visitor – US vice-president J.D. Vance on his summer holidays. Local resident Jonathan Mazower writes from inside Fortress Dean.

What to do when J.D. Vance comes to stay? This wasn’t a question I’d ever considered, but it was forced upon me and my family when we learnt last week that he’d be spending part of his summer holiday in the manor house in Dean, the tiny Oxfordshire hamlet where we live.

It didn’t come as a total surprise, because in recent years this corner of the Cotswolds has changed beyond recognition. What was once an insignificant stretch of Oxfordshire countryside has witnessed an extraordinary transformation.

The pioneer was Daylesford Organic, an absurdly pricey retail empire founded by Lady Bamford, now encompassing a deli, spa, homeware, wellness, gastropubs and God knows what else. Since then countless other “destinations” have popped up one after the other, metastasizing across the landscape. 

The members-only Soho Farmhouse, a celeb-magnet par excellence. Estelle Manor (also members-only, obv) where Steve Jobs’ daughter had her wedding party last month. The Bull in Charlbury, an outpost of Notting Hill’s The Pelican, where Kamala Harris was spotted recently having dinner. Jeremy Clarkson’s Diddly Squat Farm Shop (now with nearby pub), so popular that queues stretch back onto the main road throughout the summer. 

As for the Chipping Norton Set, those of us living in and around the town who’d always bridled at the label had naively hoped that this kind of attention would dissipate once the Tories had been voted out of office.

There is, of course, a far more complex story to tell about what’s going on here. House prices have soared, and for many local people the idea of getting a foot on the housing ladder is an unobtainable fantasy. The local schools and health services are desperately underfunded. The few remaining family farms in the area will be forced to sell up once the government’s changes to inheritance tax become law. Young people have few facilities, and public transport options are limited. There is real hardship and deprivation behind the media stories of the area whose latest description, apparently, is the “Hamptons of England”.

But the process of turning this area into some kind of Hollywood fantasy seems unstoppable, and now we’ve had J.D. Vance foisted on us. The man who humiliated Zelensky in the Oval Office and demanded he say “Thank you”; who lectured Europe on freedom of speech while deporting any foreign student who stands up for Gaza; who’s demolishing the foundations of liberal democracy as he and Trump drive the US along the path to fascism. Even for those of us of a “live and let live” disposition there are limits, and doing nothing would feel like complicity. 

Opportunities to object are limited, however. Roadblocks and checkpoints have been established at either end of the only lane in and out of the village. Cars are searched with sniffer dogs and ID demanded. All footpaths have been closed off, and unless you live here you stand no chance of getting in. Secret Service agents keep a watchful eye on the hordes of police who are doing their bidding. In short, we’ve been completely sealed off from the outside world.

So those of us villagers who feel obliged to make some kind of protest, however token, have stuck posters in our gardens, in the probably vain hope he sees them as he speeds past. It’s our tiny voice of protest at, well, everything.