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Found this article in the Scottish Review which I thought I'd share with you...
Fiona Hyslop is reported as having recently said: 'What's happening in Scotland today is a wholly democratic, civil and orderly debate about the future of the country'.
She went on to say, to her American audience: 'The great debates and exchanges of letters that formed your constitution may find a modern echo in the discussions on Scotland's future as we decide what kind of nation we want to be'. The discussions about the US constitution may have been 'civil and orderly', but the war of independence that preceded these discussions was brutal.
In Scotland, we are not yet at the constitution-making stage and remain mired in an enervatingly long battle of words which are sometimes anything but 'civil and orderly'. It is regrettable that both sides in the 'independence' debate are guilty of hurling abuse rather than reasoned argument at each other. On the unionist side, very unkind personal comments are made about Alex Salmond and Nicola Sturgeon – although, to be fair, they are probably no more unkind than the comments that nationalists make about Johann Lamont, for one.
What is distinctive, however, about nationalist abuse is the habitual accusation that those who do not share their views are traitors, are not 'true Scots', that they betray their country and fellow countrypersons (to be politically correct). I myself have recently been called 'a disgrace to your countrymen' [sic] for noticing, possibly mischievously, that great plans are afoot to celebrate the 700th anniversary of the Battle of Bannockburn in 2014 while there is a deathly silence about the 500th anniversary of the Battle of Flodden in 2013. The only honourable way for a Scot to behave, it seems, is to support the separation of Scotland from England, Wales and Northern Ireland, but especially from England. It would be pleasant if we could have a break from this kind of thing.
The nationalists need to accept that those of us who do not wish to see the union broken up can feel both Scottish and British, and that there is nothing wrong in that. There are, apparently, people who feel only Scottish and feel no affinity with Britain or the United Kingdom. I have to accept that, even if it seems odd. But I am Scottish yet acknowledge that my country of origin and domicile is the UK. I am proud of Andy Murray as both a Scot and a Brit. When it comes to rugby matches I support Scotland and also the British Lions, even if these days they include few Scots. I support the English cricket team. And in the Ryder Cup I definitely support Europe. Multiple identities are OK.
The problem for all of us is that anything that is currently predicted about what an 'independent' Scotland would be like is simply speculation. We can’t know until we get there what it would be like. The older and more cautious among us, especially women – and, if John Curtice is to be believed, the better-educated – are, it seems, inclined to think that this is too much of a risk, that 'keeping hold of nurse' may have its ups and downs but it is pretty safe. On the other hand, there are people who are prepared to take a giant leap of faith into the unknown saying that it can’t be worse than it is at present and that with all our alleged resources we are bound to be better off. That is, however, in Rumsfeldian parlance, a known unknown.
What is this Scotland that we are talking about? Geographically, there can be little doubt. But the kind of Scotland we mean depends on where we are standing. We each imagine Scotland through the lens of our own environment and perceptions – and, no doubt, our aspirations also.It is not as if Scotland is a united country, in any sense. There are rumblings from Orkney and Shetland about looking to Norway rather than Scotland, and questions about what lowland Scots have ever done for them. The Highlands and Islands councils seek greater devolution of power to themselves, and not merely to Edinburgh. The major divide is, of course, between the western and eastern lowlands, usually characterised as being between Glasgow and Edinburgh – immortalised in the jibes 'Glasgow's miles better' and 'But Edinburgh is slightly superior'.
I was brought up, in Edinburgh, to believe that Glaswegians were 'friendlier' than the stuck up Edinbourgeois. When I moved to Glasgow to work, in 1969, I found it was indeed so, from the checkout lady at BHS, who tied my vegetable bags with finger loops so that I could carry them as well as my three new lampshades home, to my new neighbours in Crow Road. My colleagues were a collegial bunch, and Glasgow generally seemed more lively than Edinburgh. This, though, also included tales of Rangers and Celtic supporters 'fencing with meat cleavers in Sauchiehall Street' after an old firm match.
Some time ago, Kenneth Roy referred to the poverty of the west compared with the wealth of the east of Scotland. This somewhat surprised me. I can remember being in contact with people from the west of Scotland some 30 years ago, in social situations. If we went to Scottish Opera to a restaurant in Glasgow, I was struck by the way in which Glaswegians – better off Glaswegians – flaunted their wealth. The women dressed much more flamboyantly and wore much more jewellery than women at similar events in Edinburgh.
We are repeatedly told that Scots are more 'social democratic' than the English, and that this will promote a 'fairer' society in an independent Scotland. The trouble with words like 'fair' and 'equality' is that the person using them tends to assume that they mean 'more for me', that if there are to be expropriations they will be from other people. Much of the basis of the aspirations of those who favour a separate Scotland is that 'the rich' will pay to lift the poor out of poverty. Yet I doubt that there are so many very rich Scots to make this possible.
The 'better off', I'm afraid, means most of us, even if large swaths of the population seem not to have realised that. I remember a senior colleague, who was a Marxist, reading something I had written to the effect that only those who were indigent qualified for a certain benefit in depression-wracked Germany c.1930. 'Indigent?', he asked. 'What do you mean? I feel indigent.' Those on a professorial salary were not indigent (even when they were Marxist), but, in their own way, most people feel hard-pressed and expect people better off than themselves to pay. Well, I'll say it again: most of us are among the better off. We are better off than those who are genuinely poor.
There's a man who appears from time to time on Newsnight Scotland who seems to belong to some think tank. He has long dark hair and spectacles and is very earnest, but I'm afraid I can't remember his name. He is in favour of a separate Scotland and speaks intensely about the need for a redistribution of income, something we do not hear too much of (yet) from the 'yes' camp. There can be little doubt that this will entail a redistribution from those even on quite moderate incomes to those on low incomes. As someone on a moderate income, my response is 'bog off'. I resent the way in which people like this think tank man think that people like him have a right to take my resources and redistribute them. If that is people's vision of an 'independent' Scotland, they can keep it.
Much is made of the housing shortage – housing having been a devolved issue since 1999 – and the SNP's recent response is to discontinue the sale of council houses from 2017. A friend who is buying her (former) council house tells me that when she heard about that she knew that the 'yes' camp would lose the referendum. Her view is that there remain many people who want to be free of council control and own their home, and that preventing them from doing so will be most unpopular. I have seen the arguments against sales of council housing, but the fact remains that the people buying a council house would still have to live somewhere: it is not the case that preventing them from buying liberates a house for someone else to live in.
But, for now, I know perhaps two people who want this referendum, and want a 'yes' vote. I can't work out whether there is a strong body of opinion in favour of having it or whether there is simply a smallish minority making a lot of noise. It all seems similar to the Edinburgh trams fiasco: a project that scarcely anyone I know wants, being pushed forward by zealots and taking an unconscionably long time to be resolved. Another year and more. How can we stand it?
Jill Stephenson is former professor of modern German history at the University of Edinburgh
Alastair
Fiona Hyslop is reported as having recently said: 'What's happening in Scotland today is a wholly democratic, civil and orderly debate about the future of the country'.
She went on to say, to her American audience: 'The great debates and exchanges of letters that formed your constitution may find a modern echo in the discussions on Scotland's future as we decide what kind of nation we want to be'. The discussions about the US constitution may have been 'civil and orderly', but the war of independence that preceded these discussions was brutal.
In Scotland, we are not yet at the constitution-making stage and remain mired in an enervatingly long battle of words which are sometimes anything but 'civil and orderly'. It is regrettable that both sides in the 'independence' debate are guilty of hurling abuse rather than reasoned argument at each other. On the unionist side, very unkind personal comments are made about Alex Salmond and Nicola Sturgeon – although, to be fair, they are probably no more unkind than the comments that nationalists make about Johann Lamont, for one.
What is distinctive, however, about nationalist abuse is the habitual accusation that those who do not share their views are traitors, are not 'true Scots', that they betray their country and fellow countrypersons (to be politically correct). I myself have recently been called 'a disgrace to your countrymen' [sic] for noticing, possibly mischievously, that great plans are afoot to celebrate the 700th anniversary of the Battle of Bannockburn in 2014 while there is a deathly silence about the 500th anniversary of the Battle of Flodden in 2013. The only honourable way for a Scot to behave, it seems, is to support the separation of Scotland from England, Wales and Northern Ireland, but especially from England. It would be pleasant if we could have a break from this kind of thing.
The nationalists need to accept that those of us who do not wish to see the union broken up can feel both Scottish and British, and that there is nothing wrong in that. There are, apparently, people who feel only Scottish and feel no affinity with Britain or the United Kingdom. I have to accept that, even if it seems odd. But I am Scottish yet acknowledge that my country of origin and domicile is the UK. I am proud of Andy Murray as both a Scot and a Brit. When it comes to rugby matches I support Scotland and also the British Lions, even if these days they include few Scots. I support the English cricket team. And in the Ryder Cup I definitely support Europe. Multiple identities are OK.
The problem for all of us is that anything that is currently predicted about what an 'independent' Scotland would be like is simply speculation. We can’t know until we get there what it would be like. The older and more cautious among us, especially women – and, if John Curtice is to be believed, the better-educated – are, it seems, inclined to think that this is too much of a risk, that 'keeping hold of nurse' may have its ups and downs but it is pretty safe. On the other hand, there are people who are prepared to take a giant leap of faith into the unknown saying that it can’t be worse than it is at present and that with all our alleged resources we are bound to be better off. That is, however, in Rumsfeldian parlance, a known unknown.
What is this Scotland that we are talking about? Geographically, there can be little doubt. But the kind of Scotland we mean depends on where we are standing. We each imagine Scotland through the lens of our own environment and perceptions – and, no doubt, our aspirations also.It is not as if Scotland is a united country, in any sense. There are rumblings from Orkney and Shetland about looking to Norway rather than Scotland, and questions about what lowland Scots have ever done for them. The Highlands and Islands councils seek greater devolution of power to themselves, and not merely to Edinburgh. The major divide is, of course, between the western and eastern lowlands, usually characterised as being between Glasgow and Edinburgh – immortalised in the jibes 'Glasgow's miles better' and 'But Edinburgh is slightly superior'.
I was brought up, in Edinburgh, to believe that Glaswegians were 'friendlier' than the stuck up Edinbourgeois. When I moved to Glasgow to work, in 1969, I found it was indeed so, from the checkout lady at BHS, who tied my vegetable bags with finger loops so that I could carry them as well as my three new lampshades home, to my new neighbours in Crow Road. My colleagues were a collegial bunch, and Glasgow generally seemed more lively than Edinburgh. This, though, also included tales of Rangers and Celtic supporters 'fencing with meat cleavers in Sauchiehall Street' after an old firm match.
Some time ago, Kenneth Roy referred to the poverty of the west compared with the wealth of the east of Scotland. This somewhat surprised me. I can remember being in contact with people from the west of Scotland some 30 years ago, in social situations. If we went to Scottish Opera to a restaurant in Glasgow, I was struck by the way in which Glaswegians – better off Glaswegians – flaunted their wealth. The women dressed much more flamboyantly and wore much more jewellery than women at similar events in Edinburgh.
We are repeatedly told that Scots are more 'social democratic' than the English, and that this will promote a 'fairer' society in an independent Scotland. The trouble with words like 'fair' and 'equality' is that the person using them tends to assume that they mean 'more for me', that if there are to be expropriations they will be from other people. Much of the basis of the aspirations of those who favour a separate Scotland is that 'the rich' will pay to lift the poor out of poverty. Yet I doubt that there are so many very rich Scots to make this possible.
The 'better off', I'm afraid, means most of us, even if large swaths of the population seem not to have realised that. I remember a senior colleague, who was a Marxist, reading something I had written to the effect that only those who were indigent qualified for a certain benefit in depression-wracked Germany c.1930. 'Indigent?', he asked. 'What do you mean? I feel indigent.' Those on a professorial salary were not indigent (even when they were Marxist), but, in their own way, most people feel hard-pressed and expect people better off than themselves to pay. Well, I'll say it again: most of us are among the better off. We are better off than those who are genuinely poor.
There's a man who appears from time to time on Newsnight Scotland who seems to belong to some think tank. He has long dark hair and spectacles and is very earnest, but I'm afraid I can't remember his name. He is in favour of a separate Scotland and speaks intensely about the need for a redistribution of income, something we do not hear too much of (yet) from the 'yes' camp. There can be little doubt that this will entail a redistribution from those even on quite moderate incomes to those on low incomes. As someone on a moderate income, my response is 'bog off'. I resent the way in which people like this think tank man think that people like him have a right to take my resources and redistribute them. If that is people's vision of an 'independent' Scotland, they can keep it.
Much is made of the housing shortage – housing having been a devolved issue since 1999 – and the SNP's recent response is to discontinue the sale of council houses from 2017. A friend who is buying her (former) council house tells me that when she heard about that she knew that the 'yes' camp would lose the referendum. Her view is that there remain many people who want to be free of council control and own their home, and that preventing them from doing so will be most unpopular. I have seen the arguments against sales of council housing, but the fact remains that the people buying a council house would still have to live somewhere: it is not the case that preventing them from buying liberates a house for someone else to live in.
But, for now, I know perhaps two people who want this referendum, and want a 'yes' vote. I can't work out whether there is a strong body of opinion in favour of having it or whether there is simply a smallish minority making a lot of noise. It all seems similar to the Edinburgh trams fiasco: a project that scarcely anyone I know wants, being pushed forward by zealots and taking an unconscionably long time to be resolved. Another year and more. How can we stand it?
Jill Stephenson is former professor of modern German history at the University of Edinburgh
Alastair