It's 'Carry on Farming' . . .

It was like a bad joke that you somewhat shamefully knew the punchline to, writes Rural Affairs Editor Nathan Rous. One of those "Doctor, doctor, I feel like a pair of curtains" gags.

As soon as the foot-and-mouth outbreak was announced in July, the vultures made their way to Pirbright to begin circling, and within seconds we all knew it was the Government's fault. Even those who considered themselves the staunchest supporters had a sneaky feeling.

You see, if anyone could give a dazzling display of incompetence, one that not only threatened our national security but undermined the very ability to feed ourselves, it was bound to have some connection or other with Whitehall.

The other possible offender in the frame was the humble British farmer, still reeling from the 2001 outbreak which left hundreds of thousands of livestock smoking at the farm gate. And I don't mean Benson & Hedges.

Of course, cows can barely break wind these days without the owner filling in a form, making a copy, making a copy of the copy and faxing it off to Defra, so, given the absurd level of restrictions farmers have been subjected to since 2001, the Government-run Institute for Animal Health (IAH) was always odds-on to be the culprit.

Naturally the finger-pointing spread as quickly as the virus. Directors from both IAH and the next-door, privately run Merial laboratory said it was not only implausible that the virus had leaked from their labs but it was downright almost impossible.

Note the word 'almost'. It is quite significant here, given that it allows the tiny but nonetheless earth-shattering possibility that security wasn't quite as tight as it should be. Damn those drains.

The reality is that both labs were sitting on a timebomb. Whether or not they knew the full extent of the ticking is only open to supposition, but they were certainly sitting.

Now is the time for red faces. Given that we have had a dreadful summer, anyone with a hint of rouge can be pretty much linked to the crisis. Strangely though, those responsible will probably skulk away for a few short days to lie low before going back to their comfy chairs, executive desk toys and stress balls which were last squeezed in the mid-80s.

Our farmers on the other hand have no such comfort-zone to slip back in. They have to work harder than ever to recover the damage done to their business both on the home front and internationally.

For while us Brits acknowledge that meat from these shores adheres to the toughest standards in the world, others (the French, the Canadians, the French-Canadians, etc) are all too easily put off.

The damage may have been limited, certainly in comparison to 2001, but it is somewhat unsightly for Gordon Brown and others to engage in such public back-patting for the swift containment of foot-and-mouth when it was their fault in the first place.

You won't find any high-fives on the farm. You won't even find any gloating, given that it was someone else's fault. Britain's farmers don't have time for that - there's too much to do.

The outbreak, the containment and the post-mortem underline that this Government has to be committed to - not just involved in - securing Britain's farming future.

For a definition of committed and involved, just take a look at the humble farm breakfast, complete with bacon and eggs. The hen was involved, the pig was committed.

As the opening joke suggested, it is time for the Government to pull itself together.