One law for me, another for you
If a Scot says, give me my country to govern again, he is judged a fool, and everything is done to demean him and mock him.
When an Englishman says he wants his country back to govern again, and shouts freedom into the face of Europeans, his countrymen praise him and call him patriotic.
Freedom for the people of Scotland is attained through the struggle to regain the civil rights we don’t have, and all those we’ve lost and should care that we’ve forfeited. When we have it all, or as much as can be secured in a modern nation state, we will have no need for praise because we will be a confident people.
Handball not football
We think we enjoy freedoms and free will. Scotland is allowed only the small things, the also ran, the junior sports event, the touring production, the amateur movement, the provincial television station, a parliament with next to no economic power. The charade does not make us feel we are a proper nation.
Westminster warns they will punish us if we use the very pound sterling we helped create, or they will place border controls to corral us if we resist their rule, or they will fine us, reduce the allowance they give us from our taxes if we do anything they dislike. And then they have the effrontery to demand they know what it is that makes us feel we are constrained or oppressed. A tyranny holds no mirror to its face.
Friend or foe?
We have an England that saw fit to recruit Scottish men and women in two world wars to fight and die for liberty and freedom, but will not allow us to govern ourselves. What kind of freedom is that?
We have an England that saw fit to use Scotland as a guinea pig for unpopular policies. What kind of friend is that?
We have an England that destroyed a nation’s industry rather than support it. What kind of ally is that?
And that tyranny smiles and says, stay with us, for together we are Utopia.
A different reality
The English have a set of assumptions, a reality, different from Scots. Their reality is based on a century of empire, wars and battles and heroes made, territory captured, ruling waves, a domination of nation cultures. No wonder they can’t understand why we Scots do not see things as they do.
To English, the Scottish man or woman, you, me, standing before them, protesting, holding a placard, asking for political change, is stupid to resist their system to which they think we owe our identity. That’s why they scorn our demand for a different society.
They defend an English system, an English reality. And why not? It’s theirs by right but it isn’t one constructed by Scots for Scotland. Rejecting what they see as unacceptable European supremacy imposed on England, they think nothing of English domination of Scotland, or Wales or Ireland’s culture and economies.
Once we were warriors
There was a time last century when the Labour party, always a Unionist party committed first and foremost to England’s might and ambitions, that actually fought hard for Scotland’s corner. There existed Scots who felt Scotland had a right to a share in the United Kingdom’s wealth that Scotland helped create. But here’s the rub, they had to fight for it. It wasn’t Scotland’s without asking, it wasn’t Scotland’s by right or by deed.
Back in the 1960s those avid unionists the Conservative Party recognised they had ignored Scotland’s material and social plight for too long. Too long was two hundred years. The British Treasury was draining Scotland of its earnings, squandering it on imperial wars and weapons to enhance the status of what they liked to call Great Britain.
The British Treasury gave Scotland £600 million to help clear our city slums, to rebuild, to create outer city communities, to encourage the entrepreneur. The Highlands and Islands Development Board was set up. The whole of Scotland – except Edinburgh – was considered a priority development area. We got a fast breeder reactor, an aluminium smelter, a second Forth Bridge, a Tay Bridge two years later, and the promise of 10,000 jobs created at a monster coal pit called Longannet. Life looked good.
Our new found hyper-activity was mirrored in our culture. The Edinburgh International Festival of the Arts grew in all directions in activity and fame. Our artists were feted in London. BBC Scotland adapted and produced some of our greatest novels. New, bright filmmakers and writers were everywhere. James Bond was a Scotsman.
And there’s more
The flow of money didn’t stop there. A brace of universities sprang up, or perhaps a mortarboard of higher education: Heriot Watt, Dundee, Stirling, and Strathclyde. And following the new elite there came the intuitions to teach the teachers to teach, Ayr, Hamilton, and Falkirk, the dominies who would attain a lectureship in the new universities one day and a few become principals to round off a productive life.
The working class were still called the working class but saw a ladder to middle-class if they were willing to take it.
What happened next?
England’s parliament couldn’t sustain the expenditure. They took back everything we had built with the money given us, one by one, except our bridges, and they might have removed them had they not been cemented down hard, pile driven into Scottish bedrock.
An incontrovertible harsh reality opened before us. Gifts are not gifts when they can be removed. They are loans. Loans mean debts, and debt means you are far less liable to create dissent or rebel.
Running even the remnants of an empire is a costly business. The British government discovered they couldn’t balance their books. So they took to stealing Scotland’s oil. When billions upon billions of pounds it’s grand larceny on a scale hitherto unknown. England gave with one hand and took away with the other.
Same old, same old
Unemployment did not reduce, talented youth did not stop emigrating. In 1967 over 47,000 left Scotland. Short term loans did not solve Scotland’s social problems. Scotland’s ills were as unmanageable as Cromwell’s parliamentarians said they were.
The Scottish electorate became disillusioned, disaffected. They looked at the SNP and its policies as a potential champion for Scotland’s needs. That is where we are today, with a rump Tory Party and a useless, spurned Labour Party still holding tight to that nebulous thing called Britishness.
Now we have food banks for the destitute, described by our colonial masters as a ‘good thing’, a sign of a caring nation.
Who are we?
On the days you wonder what the future is for your children, remember this: when you say you are British, you have given up the fight for Scotland’s political and social equality. If you are happy to kneel before grotesque colonial indifference, ready to die for another nation’s wars, no one but you chose that destiny.
The rest of us have had enough. We choose to re-join the world of nations. After all, where else are we to go? No nation rose up only to demand its abolition.