Lucy Harris is a former Conservative MEP and former Special Adviser at the Department for Levelling Up, Housing and Communities (DLUHC).
When I stand at Sutton Hoo on a clear day, looking across the Suffolk countryside towards the River Deben, I feel an immediate surge of pride and something deeper, too: gratitude, wonder and a powerful sense of belonging.
The extraordinary ship burial uncovered here in 1939 transformed our understanding of Britain’s past.
Beneath those mounds lay not simply a remarkable vessel, but the traces of a human life, a community and a world shaped by courage, craftsmanship, ambition and loss. The burial overturned the idea that seventh-century East Anglia was a forgotten corner of a “Dark Age” world, revealing instead a sophisticated, wealthy and outward-looking civilisation connected across Europe.
The ship itself has become one of the most moving symbols of our history. Although its timbers had long since disappeared, the impression it left in the earth endured: a vessel carrying someone of immense importance into the next world, surrounded by objects that spoke of power, faith, artistry and far-reaching relationships. Standing at Sutton Hoo, it is impossible not to feel the presence of the people who created that burial and to wonder about the hopes, grief and beliefs that brought them together.
For those of us who grew up around Woodbridge, Sutton Hoo is more than an archaeological site. It is part of our landscape, identity and shared story. It is a place where the past feels close enough to touch, and where the Suffolk countryside seems to hold the memory of generations.
That connection is personal for me.
Suffolk is my home. I grew up here and attended Kyson Primary School, named after an ancient place whose name is thought to derive from the Anglo-Saxon Kingestuna, the King’s estate or settlement. Kyson sits beside the River Deben, the great artery of this landscape, along which people, goods and ideas travelled between Suffolk and the wider world for centuries. From Kyson, the river leads past Woodbridge and the landscape of Sutton Hoo towards the North Sea and Europe beyond. Appropriately, reproductions of the Bayeux Tapestry decorated our school corridors, giving me one of my earliest encounters with the history that connected our small corner of Suffolk to a much bigger European story.
I went on to attend Farlingaye High School in Woodbridge and, after a political journey that took me from campaigning across Britain to representing our country in the European Parliament, eventually returned home to Suffolk.
Coming back has reminded me how powerful a sense of place can be.
I have watched Woodbridge reconnect with its history, with local people, businesses and organisations investing in its future while rediscovering what makes it special. The Suffolk burial ship project is one of the most inspiring examples. I love watching the reconstruction slowly take shape, piece by piece, with members of the public sponsoring their little part of it, whether its a wooden nail or part of its frame. There is something deeply moving about seeing people in Woodbridge recreate a vessel whose ghost has become such a powerful symbol of our past. It reminds us that heritage is not frozen in time. It is living: something communities can build around, care for and pass on.
The original ship carried a story of craftsmanship, ambition and connection. Its recreation is bringing that story back to the heart of Suffolk, allowing people today to engage with a history that began here more than 1,300 years ago. It gives a new generation the chance not only to learn about the ship, but to feel that this history belongs to them. That is why the forthcoming cultural exchange between Normandy and Britain, involving the Sutton Hoo treasures and the Bayeux Tapestry, is so exciting.
This is what heritage should do: bring people together, create curiosity and remind us that history has always crossed borders. It can open doors that politics alone cannot, creating understanding through shared experiences, human stories and mutual respect.
The Bayeux Tapestry is not only an extraordinary work of art; it is a symbol of Norman identity, history and pride. Sharing it with Britain demonstrates the power of culture to build friendship and connection, not through transactional legal agreements, but through the enduring and sometimes indefinable connections created when people encounter one another’s stories. The same opportunity now exists with Sutton Hoo. As our treasures travel to Normandy for the first time, I have written to the Mayor of Caen with a very practical question: what is being done to ensure that the people of Suffolk can participate in this extraordinary cultural exchange?
In particular, I have asked what he can do to facilitate access for Suffolk schools and young people. Could dedicated school visits be made available? Could free places be offered to Suffolk pupils travelling to Normandy? Could schools around Woodbridge and the wider county be given priority access, or linked directly with schools in Normandy?
I would also like the Mayor to consider extending that principle to the wider Suffolk community. Could Suffolk residents be offered priority booking, discounted or free tickets to see the Sutton Hoo treasures while they are in Normandy? These would be relatively simple gestures, but enormously meaningful ones. They would recognise that while these treasures form part of a great international collection, their story began in a particular landscape and among a particular community. If Normandy is welcoming a piece of Suffolk, I hope it will welcome the people of Suffolk alongside it. This should be more than an exchange of objects. It is an opportunity to create an exchange between people.
If we want strong relationships with Europe, cultural exchange is one of the best ways to build them. It allows people to meet as neighbours rather than abstractions, to discover what they share and to appreciate the differences that make each place distinctive. Friendships grow through schools, museums, artists, families, local organisations and shared celebrations. They grow when people are given the chance to listen, learn and create something together.
My political journey has reinforced my belief that local pride, national independence and international cooperation are not competing ideas. We can be fiercely attached to our communities and our independence while recognising the importance of friendship and exchange with our neighbours. Indeed, the strongest international relationships are often built from the ground up, through the places and people who give them meaning.
Sutton Hoo is a Suffolk story, a British story and a European story.
As these remarkable treasures cross the Channel, I hope the people of Suffolk will not simply watch from afar, but take an active part in this shared history. Just as the people of Woodbridge are rebuilding their ship to cross the waters, we should use this moment to rebuild and renew our friendship across them, through culture, education and the human connections that endure long after an exhibition has ended.
And, in the interests of historical balance, I should add one brief disclaimer to this spirit of Anglo-French reconciliation: I am mindful that my tone towards the Tapestry’s depiction of violent conquest may have been rather conciliatory, particularly for any contemporary Saxons who remain aggrieved by the events of 1066. I can only hope that nearly a thousand years has taken some of the edge off.
Lucy Harris is a former Conservative MEP and former Special Adviser at the Department for Levelling Up, Housing and Communities (DLUHC).
When I stand at Sutton Hoo on a clear day, looking across the Suffolk countryside towards the River Deben, I feel an immediate surge of pride and something deeper, too: gratitude, wonder and a powerful sense of belonging.
The extraordinary ship burial uncovered here in 1939 transformed our understanding of Britain’s past.
Beneath those mounds lay not simply a remarkable vessel, but the traces of a human life, a community and a world shaped by courage, craftsmanship, ambition and loss. The burial overturned the idea that seventh-century East Anglia was a forgotten corner of a “Dark Age” world, revealing instead a sophisticated, wealthy and outward-looking civilisation connected across Europe.
The ship itself has become one of the most moving symbols of our history. Although its timbers had long since disappeared, the impression it left in the earth endured: a vessel carrying someone of immense importance into the next world, surrounded by objects that spoke of power, faith, artistry and far-reaching relationships. Standing at Sutton Hoo, it is impossible not to feel the presence of the people who created that burial and to wonder about the hopes, grief and beliefs that brought them together.
For those of us who grew up around Woodbridge, Sutton Hoo is more than an archaeological site. It is part of our landscape, identity and shared story. It is a place where the past feels close enough to touch, and where the Suffolk countryside seems to hold the memory of generations.
That connection is personal for me.
Suffolk is my home. I grew up here and attended Kyson Primary School, named after an ancient place whose name is thought to derive from the Anglo-Saxon Kingestuna, the King’s estate or settlement. Kyson sits beside the River Deben, the great artery of this landscape, along which people, goods and ideas travelled between Suffolk and the wider world for centuries. From Kyson, the river leads past Woodbridge and the landscape of Sutton Hoo towards the North Sea and Europe beyond. Appropriately, reproductions of the Bayeux Tapestry decorated our school corridors, giving me one of my earliest encounters with the history that connected our small corner of Suffolk to a much bigger European story.
I went on to attend Farlingaye High School in Woodbridge and, after a political journey that took me from campaigning across Britain to representing our country in the European Parliament, eventually returned home to Suffolk.
Coming back has reminded me how powerful a sense of place can be.
I have watched Woodbridge reconnect with its history, with local people, businesses and organisations investing in its future while rediscovering what makes it special. The Suffolk burial ship project is one of the most inspiring examples. I love watching the reconstruction slowly take shape, piece by piece, with members of the public sponsoring their little part of it, whether its a wooden nail or part of its frame. There is something deeply moving about seeing people in Woodbridge recreate a vessel whose ghost has become such a powerful symbol of our past. It reminds us that heritage is not frozen in time. It is living: something communities can build around, care for and pass on.
The original ship carried a story of craftsmanship, ambition and connection. Its recreation is bringing that story back to the heart of Suffolk, allowing people today to engage with a history that began here more than 1,300 years ago. It gives a new generation the chance not only to learn about the ship, but to feel that this history belongs to them. That is why the forthcoming cultural exchange between Normandy and Britain, involving the Sutton Hoo treasures and the Bayeux Tapestry, is so exciting.
This is what heritage should do: bring people together, create curiosity and remind us that history has always crossed borders. It can open doors that politics alone cannot, creating understanding through shared experiences, human stories and mutual respect.
The Bayeux Tapestry is not only an extraordinary work of art; it is a symbol of Norman identity, history and pride. Sharing it with Britain demonstrates the power of culture to build friendship and connection, not through transactional legal agreements, but through the enduring and sometimes indefinable connections created when people encounter one another’s stories. The same opportunity now exists with Sutton Hoo. As our treasures travel to Normandy for the first time, I have written to the Mayor of Caen with a very practical question: what is being done to ensure that the people of Suffolk can participate in this extraordinary cultural exchange?
In particular, I have asked what he can do to facilitate access for Suffolk schools and young people. Could dedicated school visits be made available? Could free places be offered to Suffolk pupils travelling to Normandy? Could schools around Woodbridge and the wider county be given priority access, or linked directly with schools in Normandy?
I would also like the Mayor to consider extending that principle to the wider Suffolk community. Could Suffolk residents be offered priority booking, discounted or free tickets to see the Sutton Hoo treasures while they are in Normandy? These would be relatively simple gestures, but enormously meaningful ones. They would recognise that while these treasures form part of a great international collection, their story began in a particular landscape and among a particular community. If Normandy is welcoming a piece of Suffolk, I hope it will welcome the people of Suffolk alongside it. This should be more than an exchange of objects. It is an opportunity to create an exchange between people.
If we want strong relationships with Europe, cultural exchange is one of the best ways to build them. It allows people to meet as neighbours rather than abstractions, to discover what they share and to appreciate the differences that make each place distinctive. Friendships grow through schools, museums, artists, families, local organisations and shared celebrations. They grow when people are given the chance to listen, learn and create something together.
My political journey has reinforced my belief that local pride, national independence and international cooperation are not competing ideas. We can be fiercely attached to our communities and our independence while recognising the importance of friendship and exchange with our neighbours. Indeed, the strongest international relationships are often built from the ground up, through the places and people who give them meaning.
Sutton Hoo is a Suffolk story, a British story and a European story.
As these remarkable treasures cross the Channel, I hope the people of Suffolk will not simply watch from afar, but take an active part in this shared history. Just as the people of Woodbridge are rebuilding their ship to cross the waters, we should use this moment to rebuild and renew our friendship across them, through culture, education and the human connections that endure long after an exhibition has ended.
And, in the interests of historical balance, I should add one brief disclaimer to this spirit of Anglo-French reconciliation: I am mindful that my tone towards the Tapestry’s depiction of violent conquest may have been rather conciliatory, particularly for any contemporary Saxons who remain aggrieved by the events of 1066. I can only hope that nearly a thousand years has taken some of the edge off.