The Radical Nation

Published on National Collective 12/06/12

Scotland's 'radical' identity is imaginary. Thanks to a new and changing world of ideas, we've got a chance to make it real. 

During the unification of the Italian city-states in the 1860s, the novelist, artist and statesman Massimo d'Azeglio wrote: "Italy has been made; now it remains to make Italians." Italy remains deeply divided, and d'Azeglio's words have grown in power as a reminder of the complex relationship between statehood and identity. It's no surprise that politicians struggle to talk about it, as Ed Miliband did with concepts of Englishness and Britishness, because identity is a deeply subjective idea. As Mike Small of Bella Caledonia points out, if I want to describe myself as Scottish, English (I'm half-and-half), British or all three in a post-independence Scotland, it's entirely reasonable for me to do so. Americans have happily been Irish, Scottish or German for years despite having only the most tenuous of familial or geographical links with their chosen heritage, and it's only the most petty of geopolitical scrooges who seeks to deny them that pleasure. Identities are flexible.

But the derision that greeted Miliband's brave but clumsy attempt to define a left-wing English civic nationalism betrayed a complacency about our own national identity that is yet to be properly examined. Too many Scots still look to left-wing heroes like Keir Hardie, Jimmy Reid and James Maxwell as proof that we are a profoundly 'social democratic' nation, with a political culture far to the left of England's. The 'we're more left wing' argument remains the foundation stone of the Left's rationale for independence, and the SNP are equally guilty of propagating the delusion that independence is the magic spray that'll repel the bloodthirsty midge of Thatcherite Conservatism once and for all.

Anybody who's had the pleasure of dealing with those tiny carnivorous tyrants (midges, not Tories, though it works for both) will know that no matter how much you douse yourself in Avon Skin So Soft (trust me, it's the best there is), they still won't go away. There's no magic spray for the left, no easy way out for those who're sick of the Daily Mail and Theresa May and rampant consumerism and rocketing inequality and greed and banks and the monarchy and UKIP and Eton and Blairism and people who still use the phrase 'socialist yahoo' like it's an insult. With independence, those things aren't going to vanish. Sure, some of them would cease to be features of the UK and become features of whatever a post-Scotland entity would be called, but that doesn't absolve us of responsibility. Over the course of our coexistence with the British nations, we've played a significant role in shaping the nature of the union and we bear some of the burden of what we've created. We can't sweep Britain's shared challenges under the border and forget about them - regardless of whether you feel British or not, you should feel bound by the simple fact of your humanity to strive for a better life for those with whom you've shared a history.

In fact, some of those things would become problems that we would actually have to deal with ourselves, in our own parliament, putting trust - god forbid - in our own politicians. The idea that the Scottish people will automatically vote for the radical government needed to tackle the problems Scotland faces is a dangerous one. John Curtice and Rachel Ormston's paper 'Is Scotland More Left-Wing Than England?' tackles the issue head-on, using Social Attitudes Survey data to show that while Scots do display a slightly more social democratic mentality than the English, with higher levels of support for redistribution and greater equality, this has been in decline since devolution. More powers have not made us more radical. Those who believe that independence will automatically result in progressive, egalitarian policies should take note, now. The belief in 'magic spray' independence is an excuse to let the ends justify the means. I've argued before that a nation is forever defined by the nature of its creation, and we must not allow ourselves to follow the SNP down the road of appeasing small-c conservatives in order to win a Yes vote that would ruin our right to be radical. That's why the Greens are right to openly criticise the way Yes Scotland is being run.

Despite all the above, Scotland can be radical. The problems we face today can be boiled down to two things: concentrations of wealth, and concentrations of power. Throughout the 20th century, the ascendant theories of liberalism hoped to harness the deeply competitive side of human nature in democracy and economics. Through democracy and its checks and balances, sociopaths could no longer manipulate and cheat their way to absurd levels of power thanks to their own sheer disregard for ethics and their fellow humans; but through the modern, perverse reimagining of Adam Smith's free-market capitalism, opened up to pure competition, those same apostles of amorality could wield an equal or greater influence over the people they employed and the planet they destroyed. In his book 'What Money Can't Buy: The Moral Limits of Markets', the philosopher Michael Sandel argues that the free market encourages a degree of antisocial behaviour amongst its executives and elites that has been morally and socially damaging to a frightening extent. After all, it is profitable to use advertising to make people think that buying a big, gas-guzzling range rover will give them more status and happiness: those who can afford nice things get trapped into a spiral of unfulfilling consumption and environmental degradation, while those who don't have the cash become increasingly insecure about their own status as they see the material wealth of those happy, attractive and prosperous families in the adverts.

Thankfully, ideas are changing. At the end of the 20th century, the political scientist Francis Fukuyama proclaimed 'the end of history' as liberalism triumphed. By the end of the 2000s, 'liberal' markets and democracies across the west lay discredited and depressed. Across the political spectrum, concentrated wealth and its accompanying inequality is condemned, while the concentrated power of centralised governments and corporate lobbies is mistrusted. In Scotland, the Jimmy Reid Foundation's report 'The Silent Crisis' sets out a radical new vision for local government which has the potential to redistribute political and civic power from central government. It is also the UN's International Year of the Cooperative - an increasingly popular business model that redistributes economic power from dictatorial executives to workers and consumers. The emerging disciplines of behavioural economics and positive psychology show a new way of thinking about humans as complex, often irrational beings motivated by human interaction more than money. Decaying theories are being challenged by a paradigm whose time has come - one that says that we are people, not robots, and we work best when we work together.

Like it or not, Scotland has been central to that old, dying model of the western world. From Adam Smith to Fred Goodwin and Gordon Brown, we've been one of the leading lights of a discredited way of doing things. With independence, we've got the chance to redeem ourselves. There is a new way of doing things, one that is bubbling under the surface, looking for a vent through which to spill into the international political consciousness. In leaving the United Kingdom, we wouldn't be leaving just any old country - we'd be deliberately and determinedly withdrawing from one of the main offenders of 20th century psycho-capitalism and beginning again at a time when there are new, truly progressive ideas about what a nation is for and what it can do. Those ideas will be at their most powerful in the next few years, as Europe struggles and the UK sinks, and they will undoubtedly play a central role in the foundation of a new Scotland. The UK is chained to the past, and no matter how hard it tries, it won't be able to make it out of the last century before it's overtaken by other, nimbler states. An independent Scotland must chain itself to the future.

We may not be as left-wing as we'd like to be. We may not be as British, or as English, as Ed Miliband would like us to be. But we are in a unique position to reforge ourselves as a nation in the heat of a new and inspiring world of ideas about what we can be. On October 6th, National Collective will attend the Radical Independence Conference in Glasgow, where these ideas can be shared and developed among leading figures of the Scottish Left. It's an opportunity for us all to look at the radical national identity we've been imagining for decades, and do something with that energy. In our minds, a radical Scotland has been made; now it remains to make radical Scots.

Walking On Eggshells

Let's leave Yes Scotland to the politicians - It's time for an eggshell theory of independence.

Glistening in the eerie blue glow of the cinema screen behind them, the grinning ranks of Salmond's Scotterati linked arms and clapped along to 'One Great Thing', the 1994 hit from Dunfermline rockers Big Country. The song is fitting enough as a campaign anthem - the singalong chorus and the bagpipe guitars that defined the band's sound will add a patriotic backdrop to any events or TV spots from now on. The band, too, seem appropriate, although perhaps for the wrong reasons.

Pete Wishart, now the SNP MP for Perth and North Perthshire, played keyboard in an early incarnation of the band, before he and his brother were jettisoned after a disastrous reception supporting Alice Cooper on tour in 1982. Apparently Cooper's hardened heavy metal crowds didn't take too kindly to Big Country's new romantic sound, and the experience put the brakes on the band's momentum until they found mainstream success in 1984. That episode is by no means exceptional in the music business - early failures to launch are almost mandatory rites of passage for ambitious young rock bands - but the lessons Wishart learned before his career took off (with Gaelic rock legends Runrig, no less) could have saved the SNP a few blushes on Friday.

This is perhaps the first time that the Scottish press will find themselves collectively compared to a roaring horde of sweaty, leather-clad metalheads (and hopefully the last, for their sakes), but like Cooper's fans jeering the relatively quiet and considered sound of Big Country, there was a clear disconnect between what they expected to see at the Yes Scotland launch and what they got.

First of all, let's not forget that this was to some extent a re-launch. The unveiling of the SNP's referendum consultation exactly four months ago aimed to energise activists and sieze the attention of the national and global press. It was widely seen as a success, with even arch-unionists like Kevin McKenna announcing that 'in five years' time, the union will be no more', as campaign director Angus Robertson confidently set out his roadmap to independence. That was the SNP machine in full, glorious flow, sweeping aside silly notions of policy detail and ideological consistency with a juggernaut of technological wizardry and organisational nous.

The Yes Scotland launch, on the other hand, has been pretty widely condemned for its style-over-substance approach. In The Scotsman, David Torrance points out that while they certainly attempted to repeat their usual glitz n' glamour tactics (which arguably worked to great effect in 2011), the tried and tested routine has begun to look and sound a little stale. Their celebrity cast is impressive, and their message - which can be boiled down to self-determination, pure and simple - remains hard to challenge, but the delivery seemed all wrong.

The referendum launch in January was arguably no more substantive in terms of vision and 'policy' than this, but there was something distinctly and unexpectedly underwhelming about the spectacle of Yes Scotland. Perhaps it was the dim, sickly blue wash that was cast over all and sundry (I know I'm repeating myself there, but it did look awful on telly), or the vague and often irrelevant nostalgia of the celebrity contributions, but there was nothing there that seemed capable of firing up Nats, worrying the No campaign or - most importantly - persuading the media that this is a force to be reckoned with.

Had the SNP not earned themselves such a reputation for first-class organisation and campaigning professionalism on previous outings, and had they not made it so clear that Yes Scotland is largely dominated by their people, the press might have been more forgiving. This is now the second time in a month that the party has failed to meet expectations that they themselves have built, and I would be surprised if there is not some serious soul-searching going on now at the highest levels. However, Ian Bell's piece in today's Herald offers a bit of much-needed nuance to the post-launch reactions:

The important point is that in 2014 we won't be voting on, for example, an independent Scotland's relationship, if any, with the monarchy. We won't be deciding whether we can or should remain within Nato or the sterling area. The referendum is about the right to choose, not about the particular choices contained within anyone's "vision" of self-determination.

Maybe, amid all the song and dance, this was the point that the Yes Scotland launch was trying to make. Independence is not really something that requires any concrete 'policy', as has been demanded by so many commentators since May 2011 and earlier. First and foremost, the case for independence requires the confidence of the Scottish people to govern themselves. That kind of confidence is far better galvanised by our arts and culture than by perpetually distrusted politicians. If I want to feel comfortable with my identity and the ability of my people to advance our standards of civilisation, I'll look to the quality of the citizens we produce as a society rather than listening to the pandering pleas of pampered politicians.

Once we have that cultural confidence for autonomous self-rule, our options are pretty much open. Sure, with membership of NATO, the EU and sterling we might have to give up a bit of our freedom to have an exclusive say in all our decisions, but even that criticism betrays a misunderstanding of what independence really means. Independence is about the capacity to act autonomously - it means if the Scottish people want to be in Europe, we can be, and if we don't we can leave. It means if we want to create our own currency, we can elect a Scottish Government with the power to do just that. If, at any point after voting Yes, the Scottish people want to remove nuclear weapons from Scottish waters, we'll damn well vote for it and we'll damn well do it without anybody being able to stop us, thanks very much. It's ultimately about trusting ourselves to do what's right. The launch of Yes Scotland was an attempt to say yes, we can look after ourselves - it's that central logic that Brian Cox (sort of) summed up when he said:

I think Scotland has earned the right to its own nation status. It has earned the right to control its own destiny. And it will certainly make a better job of it than that parliament (Westminster) which has not the foggiest clue about Scotland's cultural, economic and social needs.

There's a problem, though, with Yes Scotland. In attempting to mix politics with culture, the SNP have blurred a line that they've spent decades trying to solidify. Since devolution, they've successfully cast off the stereotypes of tartan-clad braveheart-worship by proving themselves to be the most competent and sensible party of government. They (and, in some cases, other devolved governments) have brought a degree of confidence back into Scotland's political culture, proving that Scotland can make good and ambitious decisions for itself, while treating the artistic and creative community with respect but keeping their distance at the same time. Much of the scorn poured on the Yes campaign launch focused on the apparent recidivism of the event, as a campaign perceived to be dominated by the SNP slipped into the flag-waving sentimentality they've worked so hard to avoid.

The challenge for the leadership of Yes Scotland is a tricky one, because the choice they're asking people to make is going to be decided by two things that are often in competition: to put it crudely, the head and the heart. It's what behavioural economists like nobel prize-winner Daniel Kahnemann call the 'dual-process model' of the brain. We are driven by 'System 1' and 'System 2' ways of thinking: System 1 is fast, instinctive, non-rational and very difficult to control; System 2 is deliberative and slow, and we use it (or try to use it) for making difficult, complex decisions - but psychologist and moral and political theorist Jonathan Haidt argues that whether we like it or not, System 1 (or what he calls the 'elephant', while System 2 is the 'rider') tends to have the final say.

That's a pretty simplified explanation, but it sums up the dichotomous nature of most political campaigns. Politicians spend hours crafting policy and spending plans that will stand up to rigorous intellectual scrutiny, but spend millions of pounds on adverts and grandstanding events that set our pulse racing for when we eventually come to vote on what is often pure gut instinct. The independence debate, with its equal measures of intellectual nuance and patriotic emotion, is the finest example of this duality that there is in modern politics.

So far, Yes Scotland has had a clear focus on the emotional, instinctive side of their message - appealing to our cultural identity and our love of celebrity is not a rational argument for independence, and though the famous faces were often making smart, thoughtful arguments, that was really just an excuse to put them up there in front of the cameras. That is, of course, a legitimate course of action for the Yes campaign. As I've said, some basic self-confidence in our artistic and political culture is essential to making the Yes campaign and the independent nation that could follow it successful.

However, we also have an instinctive distrust of our politicians, and to see highly respected creative figures operating in apparent cahoots with our reluctantly elected representatives makes many people feel a bit uneasy. A star-studded cast is also a very effective way of making some pretty boring ideas seem a lot more exciting. Although my pulse quickened a little when Brian Cox started talking about democratic socialism, nobody really thinks that any of those people (with the hopeful exception of Patrick Harvie) will have any tangible input into the Official Vision For An Independent Scotland™.

I don't have much hope for the No campaign either. Or will it be Yes Britain? They'll be lining up their own celebrity endorsements right now, and you can expect them to jump right on board the jubilee bandwagon, Union Flag flying high. Expect plenty of appeals to 'national solidarity' alongside sob stories about the disintegrating welfare state and a couple of old, brutal wars that we're all very proud of for some reason. I'm biased here, but I find it hard to think of any rational case for the union - they may be able to cobble one together against independence, but that will have to go negative, leaving them open to the SNP's favourite line of attack.

If the two official campaigns are hijacking our Great Scots and going for gut instinct and assurances that everything will stay the same, who's making the radical case, and who's keeping the politicians at arm's length? By now, we should all be resigned to the fact that despite the undoubted intelligence and ability of many figures in the mainstream of politics and the press in Scotland, they're not going to have a proper debate. They'll want details, numbers and obscurities about precisely the wrong things. NATO, the EU, the pound - all of these are ideologically malleable, temporally specific and politically conditional. Independence is not. A nation is either sovereign or it isn't. I don't see the media spending the same time examining the suitability of the present political establishment to reduce the embarrassing levels of child poverty in this country as they will asking each other about how we'll exert influence over the Bank of England once we're spending sterling in an independent Scotland.

So it's time to make sure it's as easy as possible for everybody to ignore them. We should leave the SNP and Labour to treat the debate like it's just another general election, and for the media to cover it as such, while everyone else can get on with having a proper, thoughtful and intelligent discussion about whether Scotland's problems are best dealt with by a parliament in Holyrood or a parliament in Westminster. And no, that's actually not a leading question.

It's what anarchists call the 'eggshell theory of revolution'. You allow the establishment to continue functioning as usual, but build new institutions and a new way of cooperation that renders it obsolete. Once the legitimacy of the old order is hollowed out, it'll calmly and quietly collapse. There are plenty of alternatives to the press and politics that we're used to: Bella Caledonia, Better Nation, National Collective and even Labour Hame or Tory Hoose all offer commentary that reflects the realities and ambitions of modern Scotland far better than our ageing TV and print media. We have organisations and parties offering political alternatives across the ideological spectrum, from the Jimmy Reid Foundation and Reform Scotland to Occupy and the Scottish Greens (at no point did Harvie look comfortable on Friday, to his eternal credit).

If Yes Scotland is going to be the rather empty and misjudged celeb-fest that we saw at the launch, why not let an alternative Yes campaign emerge? Let the political and media elite use their money and experience to demonstrate that an independent Scotland would be perfectly capable of self-government and economic security, while the rest of us can argue about why that's needed and how we can use it. The former can give people an instinctive feeling of security in saying Yes that's clearly still missing, while the latter can excite people into saying Yes with their heads as well as their hearts.

The SNP have no monopoly on wisdom, nor should their campaign have the monopoly on Scotland's creative and artistic community that their launch implied. An eggshell theory of independence could give us an eggshell theory of Scotland, where the concentrations of wealth and power that define and damage politics both here and in the UK are hollowed out and replaced by the vibrant, engaging and truly radical future that Scotland is genuinely capable of. The SNP and the pro-union parties should be allowed to give the media what they expect. It's time for the rest of us to give Scotland what it needs: a proper debate.

What Nationalists Should Learn From 1992

Labour’s transformation after their 1992 defeat created a centre-right southern consensus that deprived Scots of a political voice – Independence offers an alternative. 

“Free by ‘93”, they said, but it was not to be. In the UK general election on April 9th, 1992, The Scottish National Party’s hopes for a new dawn were dashed by a Scottish electorate of what their then-deputy leader Jim Sillars called ’90 minute patriots’. They were passionate about Scotland (and by extension the SNP, according to Mr. Sillars) within the confines of Hampden Park, but loyal to the unionist Labour party when it came to the ballot box. Thus the significance of the 1992 election in the drive for Scottish independence has always been seen through the lens of a Nationalist ‘false dawn’, where Labour’s staying power in Scotland was a setback, and the first breakthrough was with the triumph of pro-devolution New Labour in 1997.

This view must be challenged. It makes the mistake of equating progress towards independence with electoral success for the SNP, and is overly Scotland-centric. The modern, centre-left civic nationalist drive for Scottish Independence did not begin in Scotland, and its midwife was not the SNP, nor was it Thatcher, as many have suggested. It began in 1992, in the south of England, and was unwittingly instigated by the Labour Party.

John Smith's death was the beginning
of the end for Labour in Scotland.
Courtesy of riotcitygirl

My contention is this: Labour’s loss in 1992 convinced them of the need for a shift to the right to win over voters in the south of England. This alienated their voters in the north of Britain, and led to policies geared towards the desires of an affluent and influential (affluential, anyone?) swing minority of voters – known as ‘Essex Man’ or ‘Mondeo Man’ in political PR-speak – who voted with their wallets and led the retreat from traditional, entrenched party loyalties that has been occurring since the 1970s.

Scotland, whose ‘national party’ had been Labour since the 1950s, was left without any obvious voice at Westminster after the death of John Smith in 1994. The cabinet may have been packed with Scots, but their policy and rhetoric were geared towards an aspirational southern suburban mentality far removed from that of their countrymen. For a while, this transformation was tolerated – after all, years of Thatcherite rule were ended in 1997, and cross-generational loyalties take time to die.

Devolution gave the SNP a new platform from which to challenge Labour, and their quick emergence as the official opposition at Holyrood showed how easily they fitted into the new arrangements. From there, it was only a matter of time before disillusionment with New Labour translated into electoral success for the Nationalists, and with Gordon Brown’s downfall and the Holyrood result in 2011, the destruction of Labour’s Scottish identity was complete. In Scotland, this shift was not led by a middle-class floating vote, but the gradual transference of working-class loyalties from Labour to the SNP over the same period that saw the change in Labour’s ideological focus.

Paul Richards, a former special advisor to Hazel Blears and a contributor to Blairite bible ‘The Purple Book’, has written a piece for Labour’s influential Progress faction where he discusses the lessons learned from ’92, and why he believes they are still relevant. One passage is particularly important:

If Labour cannot win over the hard-working, car-owning, owner-occupiers in southern and eastern towns and suburbs, piling up majorities in northern cities will count for nothing. This substratum of our society decides who governs. This is the real ‘political class’ – the people who decide who forms the cabinet. They do not like high taxes, an out-of-control benefits bill, or an interfering government. They have never been to Wales, Liverpool or Newcastle, but they have been to Ibiza and Majorca. In 1992, they preferred a grey man and party which had bashed the miners, brought in the poll tax and could not give a hoot about mass unemployment.   

Labour’s leader has to look them (or their grown-up children) in the eye and win them over to a party they rejected in record numbers barely two years ago. No one said it was going to be a walk in the park. 

I couldn’t have said it better. And it perfectly demonstrates why Labour’s loss in 1992 was, ultimately, the SNP’s gain. No longer are Labour a party for Scotland. They are not even a party for most of the UK. Scotland has a fallback in the shape of the SNP – which is why Scots have deserted Labour while the English have not (unless we include Gorgeous George, of course) – and if, within the United Kingdom, there appears to be no means of escaping the southern, centre-right metropolitan consensus that turned 20 years old this week, then the Scots will eventually choose Independence.

Changin' The Debate

A meeting of minds in the North-West of Scotland sets an example for the creative and collaborative potential of the debate over Scotland’s future.

Ullapool is a beautiful place, and I sometimes suspect that the quiet dignity of Loch Broom’s worst kept secret is only preserved by the perils that meet any driver hoping to make the trip. No car journey to the northwest is complete without the occasional hair-raising brush with other motorists or wildlife, or the sinking sensation as one of Mr Eddie Stobart’s haulage fleet heaves its way onto the road ahead of you to push even the most pessimistic estimated arrival time back by an hour or so.

And yet on this occasion, the potential for any extension to our journey was a welcome one, giving the three of us in the car an opportunity to better prepare for the mental, emotional and physical rigour of the weekend ahead – after all, we were burdened with a mammoth task; one that has eluded almost all who hoped to bear it across shoulders far broader and more hardened than ours. Our mission statement was clear: Changin’ Scotland.

Changin’ Scotland is a biannual mini-festival of Scottish politics and culture, and has been a hit among those in the know (publicity appears to be largely done via twitter and the blogosphere) over its 10 years and 19 sessions. The event is the brainchild of Gerry Hassan and Jean Urquhart, the latter of whom owns the legendary Ceilidh Place, an ideal venue for such a gathering – not only is Ms. Urquhart an SNP MSP, but The Ceilidh Place’s bookshelves (and its excellent bookshop) are well-stocked with literature on the past, present and future of Scotland and beyond.

During the course of the weekend, The Ceilidh Place and its more basic ‘Bunkhouse’ annexe are filled with the discussion, debate and ‘blether’ of the many faces of what the speakers themselves (sometimes reluctantly) describe as ‘Civic’ and/or ‘Civil’ Scotland. For young, excitable but relatively uninvolved political nerds like me, the experience of finding oneself in conversation with Mr. Hassan, Andy Wightman and David Torrance all at the same time can be quite a shock to the system, but such is the collegiate spirit of the event: All are welcome, be it as an interested but passive audience member in any of the many illuminating talks and presentations, or as a passionate activist with a desire to engage with some of Scotland’s finest political thinkers and writers, and this spirit of open involvement lends itself to a vibrant, creative atmosphere that still manages to remain friendly and relaxed.

We pulled into Ullapool with moonlight flickering across the loch, relieved after escaping the ordeal of the A9 unscathed, and ventured into the dining room, edging into chairs between the chatter of animated faces – some known, some soon-to-be-known. The food and service of the Ceilidh Place’s staff is exemplary – and their friendly tolerance of my panic over a temporarily mislaid wallet was a big help – and by the time we took the short walk to the main conference room in the bunkhouse, conversation flowed as easily as the various beverages that helped it along.

The opening message of the ‘Independence Weekend’ was clear: This was a non-partisan (a deliberate and important distinction from bi-partisan) event, and the term ‘separatist’ was as unwelcome as the blind stereotyping of ‘the Unionists’ as ‘all the same’. Of course, I’m not Prof. Neil Walker, nor do my abilities begin to approach those of the great Ian Jack, and so to recount the various talks and debates in detail would in all likelihood only devalue them. I will nonetheless try to sum up four of the most prominent ideas that I saw emerging over our three days spent in Ullapool. This is obviously my own experience, shaped by my own interests and priorities, so might be an entirely inaccurate aggregation of a weekend’s complex discussion, but hey, it’s just a blog:

1. ‘Independence for what?’
I have already managed to gloat about this one on twitter, as I wrote a piece last week in an effort to work out a clearer image of my own positions and opinions in advance of the event which ended up discussing this very issue. There was a clear consensus this weekend that the present state of public debate in Scotland falls far short of the searching examination of our values, institutions and ambitions that is necessary if the referendum is to grow from a playground spat into a real, radical national discourse.

Important, too, were discussions around notions of interdependence and the Trident question, which outlined the complexities of the constitutional arrangement that will emerge over the next decade and the need to examine this as a part of any discussion of Scotland’s future.

2. Independence is not a shortcut to social justice
The notion of ‘Red Clydeside’ as an influential part of Scotland’s collective identity was challenged, while representatives of Unison and Engender came together to show that the inequities of modern Scotland have roots far deeper than the constitutional arrangement. Much can already be done by the Scottish Government to tackle these, and there was certainly some feeling that the constitutional debate has tended to overshadow and suppress the frank discussions that are needed to tackle rampant social injustice in Scotland.

Anthony Baxter’s moving and brilliantly infuriating documentary You’ve Been Trumped was a penetrating portrayal of the damage caused by the undue influence given to money and power by our own political class, and it is obvious that this is not an issue that will be tackled by a simple shift of political power from Westminster to Holyrood.

3. Constructive criticism is not ‘negativity’
There was bound to be a point where the token cybernat popped up, in this case to criticise one discussion for portraying the First Minister in what they deemed a ‘negative’ light. The speaker's tentative apology was shouted down by the audience, some of whom later expressed frustration at the tendency of many Nationalists to take any criticism of their party, policies or leader as an exhibition of clatteringly insensitive negativity. It rarely is.

That incident spoke measures about Scotland’s bizarre new obsession with the ‘positive/negative’ divide. A clear consequence of the SNP’s aggressively ‘positive’ campaign of 2011, and – to ensure that the Nationalists don’t shoulder the entirety of the blame – the needlessly oppositional politicking of their parliamentary adversaries, this new Manichaeism has seeped into all areas of political debate in Britain as well as Scotland, and is having a profoundly oppressive effect on what should be an open, honest and clear discussion.

Refreshingly for many of us in Ullapool, our debates were gloriously free of this reductive construct, operating along the lines of what Strathclyde’s Prof. James Mitchell called ‘Grey’ politics (in the most inspiring possible way…). There is a clear need for these conversations to move past the black-and-white, antagonistic discourse of recent months and into a more productive centre ground, where somebody is not tarred with the broad brushes of ‘negativity’, ‘anti-Scottishness’ or ‘separatism’ for simply trying to identify flaws and propose alternatives. This is something where no party is blameless (except, perhaps, those cuddly Greens), and all must make the effort to bring the debate back into an area where it won’t scare people off.

4. On a less serious note, The availability of blankets in hospitals is not the direct responsibility of the First Minister of Scotland. It is very possible that somebody else is better qualified and actually appointed to do exactly those things, and it may even be the case that Mr. Salmond has other things on his mind.

There were many more intriguing contributions by some of Scotland’s most thoughtful observers, and the flow of ideas wasn’t restricted to the talks and presentations – they were simply decanted to the bar to be developed and debated further in a more informal setting, and I’ll happily blame the present heaviness of my eyelids on the intoxicating quality of discussion after darkness fell and pints were poured.

With that third point in mind, there was also one area of discussion missing: while the economy was discussed at length and in interesting ways, there was no voice from the world of conventional business present. As a banker-bashing social democrat myself, it’s always nice to avoid those awkward confrontations with those who see unfettered markets as an intrinsically positive force, but they are nonetheless a part of this debate and deserve a space within it.

To bring together so many fine minds and discuss so many important questions from a supposedly non-partisan standpoint without any contribution from business seems to be a useful way of sidelining some important economic divisions that may be as hard to reconcile as political and constitutional ones. However, the willingness of those who were involved to look at issues affecting the business world without obviously picking sides was a wonderful example of how committed the participants are to a more conciliatory approach.

It was with a strange mixture of emotions that we piled into the car on Sunday afternoon to make the long journey back to the capital. At one level, who would want to go from something as engaging as Changin’ Scotland back to the political pantomime of ‘You started it!’ ‘No, you started it!’ at Holyrood? On another, more optimistic level, the creativity and thoughtful consideration on show at The Ceilidh Place is cause for hope – perhaps if the discussion in Scotland can find its way out of Holyrood and Westminster’s maze of statistics, scare stories and political chess and into the open spaces of a public debate with the same ambition and vitality as I saw this weekend, then we will see a nation emerging that we can all be a part of without some folk being forced to throw in the blanket. We may not be Changin’ Scotland quite yet, but it’s certainly given us something to aim for.

The next Changin’ Scotland will take place in November.

Life, Independence and Everything

If independence is the answer, what's the question?

In Douglas Adams’ The Hitchhikers’ Guide To The Galaxy, an ancient race of super-intelligent beings designs a supercomputer to find the answer to ‘Life, The Universe and Everything’. After seven and a half million years of pondering, the computer – called ‘Deep Thought’ – delivers its verdict to the two men chosen to hear it:

Alright," said Deep Thought. "The Answer to the Great Question..."
"Yes...!"
"Of Life, the Universe and Everything..." said Deep Thought.
"Yes...!"
"Is..." said Deep Thought, and paused.
"Yes...!"
"Is..."
"Yes...!!!...?"
"Forty-two," said Deep Thought, with infinite majesty and calm. 

Anyone who has had the immense pleasure of reading Adams’ masterpiece will know that the biggest mistake made by Deep Thought’s creators was not asking a proper question – Deep Thought goes on to create earth as a bio-computer to work out what the question is, but earth is demolished to make room for an intergalactic highway five minutes before it finishes its own calculations (To add insult to apocalypse, the intergalactic highway plan is actually scrapped in the end, but I’ll save that for a post about trams).

It’s a wonderful passage for all sorts of reasons, but I was drawn back to it by the recent escalation of silliness that we’ve seen in what can only ever be described as ‘Scotland’s Great Debate’ with tongue stuffed firmly in cheek. We’ve had all sorts of people mongering scares about Scotland being forced to join the Euro, a potential civil war over those troublesome oil-rich islands in the North Sea, and – in all apparent seriousness – potential RAF bombing raids on Scottish airports after France’s very own Schlieffen plan sees their tanks rolling through the central belt in one last, bitter effort to get a Stewart back on the English throne.

These kinds of stories are only ever given the oxygen (or round-the-clock life support) of public exposure because there’s absolutely nothing of any substance to fill what is otherwise an empty void. There is so much uncertainty, confusion and downright ignorance surrounding the proposed answer due to the simple fact that nobody really has any idea what the bleeding question is supposed to be. And I don’t mean the referendum question – that will never be anything more than a brief reminder of what it is we’re all arguing about when we’re dragged kicking and screaming to the ballot box in 2014 – I mean the actual reason that we’re having this stramash in the first place, and I’m yet to see much progress on that beyond the dear green pages of Bright Green or Better Nation and the articulate piping of Hassan and MacWhirter. What do we want Scotland to look like in ten years time? What’s wrong with the present situation? How do we go about shaping our own country to suit our own needs? What is this bizarre, divided entity called ‘Scotland’, and why is it so deserving of Independence?

Thus far, the SNP’s vision for a post-independence Scotland is little more than a bunch of distant smoke-signals, wilfully blurred into ambiguities and wisps of wistful abstraction in the hope that everybody will mistake them for exactly what they want to see. We’re keeping the queen, but there could be a referendum; we’re keeping the pound, but we can join the Euro – hey, we might even have our own currency; we’ll keep the welfare state intact, but Scotland might become a low-tax haven for businesses; we’ll be a world leader on climate change action and renewable energy, but we’ll probably pump out oil like there’s no tomorrow to fund it; we’ll be left-wing, right-wing, anything-that-wins-wing. It’s not much to go on.

The Greens, bless their biodegradable socks, have been tragically ignored, although this is partly down to their relative silence on the issue. Their vision for a post-materialist Scotland that can see past the slowly dying paradigms of the long, deadly 20th century is one that should be heard in every home. The Socialists, too, should have a wider slice of the debate cake, because we always need someone to scare the middle class floating vote into accepting a few more reforms than they would otherwise be comfortable with.

At a time when Scotland needs radical thinking more than ever, we’ve ended up with a parliament of centrists, monopolising the airwaves and column inches with banalities about a Scotland which, Independence or in the Union, will be built on ‘fairness’, ‘unity’ or ‘social justice’ without once offering an example of the profound institutional, cultural and systemic reforms and reinventions that are essential to achieving such lofty goals.

Of course, it’s all very early days. It’s entirely possible that we are simply in the silly season of the discussion, where all the nonsense is boiled away before we get to the real haggis and tatties of the debate. Perhaps in two years we’ll see Alistair Darling and Alex Salmond go head-to-head on live telly to compare imaginative new systems of civic and economic engagement that have genuine potential to strip away the crushing inequalities of modern Scotland. Perhaps Nicola Sturgeon will get the chance to outline a truly compassionate welfare system that can transform the long-term unemployed from ignored, irrelevant statistics into active, involved members of a national community who are as welcome and as valued as the global businesses everybody’s trying so hard to please. 

Perhaps the debate will focus on values, big ideas and collective progress rather than fiddled statistics and economic self-interest. Perhaps the Scottish Conservative Party will collapse under the gargantuan weight of its own irrelevance. Perhaps we’ll have a positive campaign on both sides. Perhaps wee piggies will soar on tartan wings over the Cairngorms singing 'Flower Of Scotland' and doffing their ginger-haired jimmy hats to the good women of Aviemore.

Unless the politicians we have reluctantly nudged into office begin asking themselves and each other some profound questions about Scotland and its people, the referendum campaign will turn even nastier than it already is. There is no doubt that the Unionists are playing dirty, and the Nationalists are playing smart (Unionists are permitted to interpret that as ‘sneaky and manipulative’), and if this is an indicator of what’s to come, then I’m tempted to just give up now. A nasty campaign, regardless of the result, could have a disastrous impact on both the United Kingdom and Scotland. One of the few benefits of growing political apathy is that politics no longer has the power to divide people that it once did. Scottish Independence, like it or not, has a lot to do with personal identity and patriotism, and they can be dangerously divisive forces.

If partisan battle lines are drawn in the political arena, they will seep through into pubs, offices and homes. If, however, the debate is honest and inspiring, it can be a tool for civic engagement that would be unprecedented in the history of the Union. This renewed engagement could have the potential to invigorate a population that feels ignored and excluded from the decisions that affect them, and the resulting sense of optimism and collective power could be the driving force behind a ‘Yes’ vote. It is in the SNP’s interest to be radical. It’s up to the others to forget for a second that they are politicians and just do the right thing.

Politics should not be a burden. The corridors of power in the United Kingdom sit on a metronome’s pendulum, ceaselessly swinging from left to right and back again across a resolute, unfeeling centre. The tempo is set by a faceless elite, and we’re all forced to play along at whatever speed they choose, learning the music as we go. Too many fall behind. With independence, we have the opportunity to wrench the device from their hands and turn it off. Independence entails the invention of a nation – the ultimate act of collaborative creativity, where we can build the society that reflects our modern needs, values and desires. An independent Scotland won’t be a purely fresh start – we have an ingrained political and social culture that has its roots in the depths of history – but it will be a chance to reassess which parts of that culture and those norms we want, and which we don’t. Scotland is finding its place in a globalised world, and has been touched by every corner of humanity – there are new ideas, new challenges and new avenues out there and around us which can shape the institutions, values and goals of our independent creation. This is where we need to be asking questions, and a better understanding of the answer will follow.

Divided They Stand

Westminster's political parties cannot unite behind a cohesive vision for Scotland in the union without embracing Devo Max.

Spot the difference: Cameron, Clegg and Miliband
all have their own vision for the future of the Union

In the first Prime Minister’s Questions after David Cameron’s clumsy intervention on the date and wording of the referendum, David Cameron and Ed Miliband presented a united front on the constitution. In tones of calm consensus, they outlined their dedication to the Union, proselytising about being ‘stronger together’ and the need for a calm, measured and positive debate on Britain’s future.

Only moments earlier, the leaders of the two dominant political parties in the unionist camp were at each other’s throats, rallying contradictory statements back and forth about rail fare regulation. Miliband attacked Cameron for failing to tackle ‘crony capitalism’, while Cameron hit back with accusations that the Leader of The Opposition could not make tough decisions when they were needed. It is a shallow pantomime that has become the defining spectacle of Westminster politics.

Such a partisan display emphasises the serious challenges facing the unionist side in articulating a ‘positive case’ for the continuation of the United Kingdom’s political union. When it comes to ideology, Scotland is relatively united – there have been overwhelming successes for socialist and social democratic political parties in every Scottish election since the Unionist Party’s triumph in 1955. Even then, it was a devotion to the Empire and record levels of Church of Scotland membership that led to the Unionists’ popularity rather than support for right-wing ideology.

Scotland’s political unity makes it difficult to imagine an independent Scotland becoming a low-tax, small-government Friedmanite utopia. The SNP have become far more successful since largely abandoning their ‘Tartan Tory’ tendencies in favour of a centre-left identity, and they know full well that it is a vision of Scotland based on similar values that will be essential in building support for independence.

The SNP have displayed remarkable discipline and unity since coming to power in 2007, and this is sure to continue throughout the referendum campaign. Those in the independence camp who want to see a Scotland devoted to the free market and individualism will be instructed to keep schtum until after the referendum is won, while those with a collectivist, progressive post-independence design for the country will be thrust in front of the cameras to win over those crucial undecided Labour voters.

The unionist parties, on the other hand, are fundamentally divided. How can they make a case for the continuation of the Union that can excite and inspire the Scottish electorate if they have completely opposing ideas of what that country should look like? Alex Salmond is determined to hold the referendum in 2014, and it’s not just to give him time to win people over. Just a year before the next Westminster election, is it really feasible that Labour, Liberal Democrats and Conservatives will be capable of even sharing a stage with each other? Their campaign will almost certainly dissolve into a bitter competition for the support of the floating voters in the south of England. It is a gift to Salmond that the most populous and electorally undecided region of the UK is also the area that polls highest in support of Scottish independence.

There is an easy way out for the unionists. The bizarre decision by every Westminster party to oppose calls for a third option of ‘Devo Max’ may well go down as one of the greatest political follies of our time.

Let us look at the most persuasive argument for independence among Scottish voters: Scotland would be freed from the possibility of a distant Tory government in London that they never elected. Imagine that Salmond chose to spend his immense referendum war chest on plastering giant pictures of Margaret Thatcher across half the country’s billboards with ‘NEVER AGAIN: VOTE YES’ across the bottom - the referendum would be won by a landslide.

Now look at the most convincing case for the Union: The notion that Britain is ‘stronger together’, with an emphasis on our historic successes and shared institutions. Unionists know they cannot win over Scottish voters by telling them they are too poor or too wee to run their own affairs; a positive case for the UK will try to focus on unity, partnership and cooperation.

A winning referendum strategy for the unionist side would mix these two arguments, and would be very difficult to beat. Full fiscal autonomy would give the Scottish people exclusive control of their taxes, benefits and regulation – the three tools most essential in creating a more equal, democratic society founded on the principles of social justice and opportunity for all. It would also allow Scots to remain in a Union for which many retain a great deal of loyalty.

For evidence of the potency of this middle ground, look no further than the polling that has been done on all three options – Devo Max inevitably comes out as the favoured choice. It would win immense support in Scotland, but it would also be the most popular choice with the English electorate. No more would they be able to complain that our free, fair and responsibly funded public services were in some way ‘subsidised’ from English taxes. Perhaps they would also begin to realise that the quality, availability and sustainability of Scotland’s services is a result of political will rather than opportunistic freeloading.

What is most astounding about the unionist camp is that not only have they refused to campaign for this middle option, but they are trying to exclude it from the ballot paper entirely. The attraction for them of a two-option referendum makes some sense – with support for independence currently a clear minority, they have assumed that the tried-and-tested arguments for the union will triumph, and don’t want to risk splitting the ‘no’ vote across two options. This, again, shows breathtaking complacency. The way in which the Tories – a party with no legitimacy in Scotland whatsoever – have sought to dictate the rules and timing of the referendum will only stress the disconnection between Westminster’s political classes and the Scottish people, who have shown overwhelming support for a three-option referendum run by the Scottish parliament. It is sure to backfire, and the surge in SNP membership since Westminster’s intervention is a glimpse of this.

As it stands, there is no positive case for the Union. Sure, there are positive things about the Union, and these are at the root of many Scots’ reluctance to support independence, but they are largely sentimental and external. They are about Britain as it is viewed from abroad, not the future of Scotland and its place within UK politics. This is where the pro-independence camp has the advantage, and it is there that they must focus their efforts. Offer a vision for Scotland that is cohesive, united and inspiring, and the unionists will be incapable of replying. They have forsaken the one hope of defeating the nationalists by ruling out Devo Max. Their insistence on a two-option referendum is both political suicide and profoundly undemocratic. To deny the Scottish people the choice of something that they overwhelmingly support, simply to avoid undermining their own misguided position, is cynical and unfair – Alex Salmond must be delighted.

Identity, Independence and the Americans

American Independence was partly brought about by a rapidly narrowing perception of ‘Britishness’ - The rise of the SNP and the drive for Scottish Independence is no different.

I have recently decided to become a student. I mean technically, I’ve been at the University of Edinburgh since 2010, but I realise now that my relationship with the academic side of things was somewhat distant. In first year, being a ‘student’ involved trying desperately hard to live up (or perhaps down) to a crude, self-destructive (but apparently very enjoyable) stereotype created and reinforced by Hollywood and the wider media, as seen in the highly entertaining series 'Fresh Meat'. However, there comes a point during the early weeks of second year, as the deadlines pile up, that you realise being a ‘student’ is at least partially connected to the concept of ‘study’. So, I have been trying very hard to move from my bed to my desk, open my laptop, close Facebook, and open this nifty little programme called ‘Microsoft Word’. I have, in a somewhat radical departure from that crumbling stereotype, begun to ‘study’.

Why is this in any way relevant to Scottish politics? Well, what I’m trying to point out is that our perceptions of our own place in the world, and the definitions we attempt to give ourselves, are endlessly flexible. They are almost entirely dependent on circumstance, and as circumstances change, we begin to define ourselves and those around us differently. In addition, one of the great advantages of my new approach to the art of studentry is that I have begun to learn things. In particular, I have begun to learn things about the American Revolution, and I will focus on that here.

It turns out that in the modern Scottish political climate, various historical interpretations of the American Revolution offer some thought-provoking insights. For those unfamiliar with the basics, here’s a very brief outline – the colonies of North America were largely self-governing states until political changes in England led to increased intervention across the Atlantic. Growing protests against commercial tax rises and a lack of British democratic legitimacy in the colonies led to rapidly escalating tensions, eventually boiling over into full-blown revolution and finally American Independence.

This is obviously an incredibly generalised and easily disputed version of events, but it will have to do in setting the scene. What is important is that the early days of the revolution raise an important question: Why did increased intervention lead to such passionate and escalating anti-imperialist protest, when Americans had previously been so comfortable with their place in the empire?

The answer to this question can be boiled down to one crucial factor, and it is this factor which gives the revolution such relevance in modern Scottish politics. The American academic T.H. Breen gives a compelling argument that one of the primary motives of the rebel colonists was a powerful yearning to express, or discover, their own national identity. This identity was not, however, that of the now-ubiquitous idea of the ‘American’, but instead it was a desire to be recognised as ‘British’ on equal terms with the famously liberated, respected and cultured ‘Englishmen’. Breen suggests that before and during the revolution, the concept of ‘Britishness’ was transformed from an inclusive, imperial definition that spanned colonies across the globe (although, perhaps, focusing largely on the white populations of those colonies) into an exclusive, metropolitan and distinctly English vision of Britishness. London and England, as the cultural, economic and political hub of empire, had become the model for Britain, and the peripheries were seen as just that – distant, secondary and relatively uncivilised.

This was particularly jarring with the American colonies - the jingoistic glory of the Seven Years’ War had given Americans a great deal of pride in their Britishness, as they fought beside their imperial compatriots against the French. The sudden recalibration of Britishness around an Anglocentric urban elite left Americans feeling shocked and betrayed, with an identity they had felt powerfully connected to suddenly wrenched away from them in a callous and aggressive manner. It was not, therefore, a yearning to be ‘American’ that motivated the colonists – indeed, the term ‘American’ was being used by the English at least a decade before the colonies – but rather a feeling of having their British identity pulled away from them in such an unexpected and insensitive way. It was, argues Breen, only natural that the attempt to fill that void should manifest itself with such passion.

So to Scotland. Over two hundred years later, it is becoming increasingly clear that the concept of ‘Britishness’ is not, as unionists and much of the media would suggest, being undermined and degraded by the proponents of Scottish independence. In recent years it has become evident that whenever the symbols of Britishness – the BBC, Westminster, the NHS and the military – become centralised and anglicised by a London elite, the forces of Scottish nationalism roar into life, buoyed by a Scottish public feeling excluded and ignored.

Let us look at those great ‘British’ institutions. The BBC, despite recent efforts, is undeniably London-centric. Scotland may or may not punch above its weight on national television, but the programming is still largely obsessed with the hustle and bustle of the UK capital. The NHS has already been devolved, and is now at risk of becoming a purely Scottish institution as Andrew Lansley somehow gets away with his brutal dismantling of one of the greatest institutions in the world, never mind the United Kingdom. The military has been sent on two extremely controversial wars in recent years, and as a result is irreversibly associated with the slimy and mendacious world of Westminster politics.

It is Westminster that is the most crucial part of this puzzle. Those other institutions have always been relatively London-centric, and the BBC has certainly improved recently, but when they are combined with the elitist, exclusive and quintessentially, archaically English world of Westminster politics, they make a potent cocktail of which the Scottish people have had more than enough.

Let us look now at the great figureheads of Britain over the years. Back in the smoggy, industrial days of the 20th century, the emerging Labour party was fuelled by the charisma and passion of working-class Scots, many of whom were incredibly capable statesmen. Thus, Scotland had its place in Westminster, and it was the Labour Party. Then, along came Maggie. The Thatcher/Major years, and their impact on Scottish and UK politics, has been written about enough, so I will not detail their impact here. What I will emphasise is the way that Margaret Thatcher’s success in the richest, most populous and metropolitan region of the UK allowed her to win three successive terms as prime minister of a south that was largely supportive, and a north that hated her on a furious, visceral level and still does. One of her greatest contributions to politics was to convince the faltering Labour Party that to achieve success, they needed to win over the voters of the south. If they could do that, they could rely on the loyalty of the Scots to win an enormous majority. The excellent C4 drama 'The Deal' demonstrates very clearly that one of Tony Blair’s greatest advantages in reforming the Labour Party and redefining their support was his Englishness, and that one of Gordon Brown’s greatest weaknesses was seen as his Scottishness. There is nothing more elucidating about the growth of modern Scottish nationalism than this. As Tony Blair’s success slowly created a new kind of politician – look at Cameron, Clegg and Miliband – the Scots began to wonder who was really representing them. Devolution, in this scenario, just is not enough. This is not about who makes policy – it is about identity. When all the potential leaders of your country come from a background, a place and an education that you are relatively incapable of relating to, is it not normal to begin to focus on where you really call home?

The Scottish National Party’s greatest successes of their history came at times when England appeared to have stolen the metaphorical duvet of Britishness, leaving Scotland shivering in the cold. In 2007, Tony Blair, with all his Islington charm, had been prime minister for a decade. New Labour had taken a clear leap towards the Thatcherite ‘New Right’, and were presenting a public face designed specifically to appeal to the South of England – a place that appeared as distant from Scotland as any other country. In 2011, David Cameron was at the head of a trio of distinctly English, metropolitan and Oxbridge-educated party leaders, shifting the country ever closer to the aforementioned neo-Thatcherite consensus.

The slide appears irreversible, as the ‘floating voters’ of the English south shout ever louder and the politicians cosy up ever closer to bankers and right-wing reactionaries. Scotland, relatively (but not entirely) safe in the protective bubble of devolution, watches in horror as English urban society degrades into violence and entrenched stratification. The Scottish Government, on the other hand, is clearly putting Scottish interests at the very front of its agenda, attempting to undo the damage done by decades of neglect. Unlike the American colonists, the Scots need not search frantically around for a new identity. Scotland is a far older nation than Britain ever will be, and the Scottish identity has never, despite the best efforts of certain political figures throughout history, been allowed to die. What we see now is that identity reasserting itself, after years playing second-fiddle to a sense of Britishness strengthened by world wars and a Westminster parliament that had a clear Scottish voice. That Britishness has, post-Thatcher, become dominated by the south of England once again. The people of Scotland, like the American colonists, know full well that they are not a mere ‘periphery’, and are in the process of refusing to be treated like one.

James C. Davies’ general theory of revolution proposes that the main force driving revolutions is that of ‘frustrated expectations… as a result of a general closing of society after a prolonged period of apparently becoming increasingly more open.’ This can, in this case, be refocused and applied to the changes in British identity. During the seven years’ war, Americans felt more British, and yet these expectations were frustrated when England asserted its exclusive ownership of the term. During the 20th century, Britain was united by two wars and the care of the welfare state, until the expectations of those on the ‘peripheries’ were frustrated by an aggressive dismantling of this welfare state by a London-centric political elite and the use of the military as a political and ideological tool (observe Thatcher’s use of the Falklands for political gain, and Blair’s clumsy invasion of Iraq), rather than the defenders of freedom they were perceived to be after the second world war. Let us also not forget the sheer horror of the nuclear weapons on the west coast. As the Westminster political classes continue to assert their hollow vision of Britishness in a way that only emphasises the gulf between them and the politics, culture and history of the Scottish people, the rapid disintegration of the shared identity that once bound the Union together will only accelerate.

What can be learned from this? Firstly, that Scottish nationalism is more than a political tool – it is a natural force, and most importantly not a negative one. Scottish nationalism is a reaction against an insular, exclusive national identity and a desire for something new, radical and forward-looking. Second, that no matter how much the referendum campaign focuses on policy, party leaders or media spend, the power of identity cannot be underestimated in shaping the direction of debate. If the unionists can persuade the Scottish people that they are still invested enough in the notion of Britain for a political union to continue, they can win the debate. That will be an uphill struggle. All the nationalists need to do is gently and carefully remind the Scottish people that they are no longer included in the modern framework of the British identity, pointing to the distant parliament of the south, and the debate for independence will be won.

There has never been a more exciting time to be a student and a nationalist. I may enter full-time employment in a newly independent Scotland. As Alex Salmond has made very clear, there is little doubt now that this will be the independence generation. Like the American revolutionary leaders, he has deftly steered a bandwagon towards independence that will be very hard to stop. One of those revolutionary leaders, Paul Revere, famously (although this is partly myth) rode his horse through Massachusetts, shouting “The British are coming!” In Scotland, though, it is quite different. The British are not coming, nor are they going. They are simply fading away.

Some further reading (and a rough bibliography) for those who are interested:

Breen, T.H. – ‘Ideology and Nationalism on the Eve of the American Revolution: Revisions Once More in Need of Revising’, The Journal of American History 84 (1997), pp.13-39

Reid Jr, Joseph D. – ‘Economic Burden: Spark to the American Revolution?’, The Journal of Economic History 38 (March 1978), pp.81-100

Countryman, Edward – ‘Indians, the Colonial Order, and the Social Significance of the American Revolution’, William and Mary Quarterly 53 (April 1996), pp.342-362

Greene, Jack P. – ‘The Social Origins of the American Revolution: An Evaluation and Interpretation’, Political Science Quarterly 88 (March 1973), pp.1-22