The above is a deceptively simple question and one to which the answer, of course, is as varied as the people you might ask it of as we approach September’s vote.
The debate so far would suggest that at one end of the scale, we’re a nation of poor wee souls, much safer shackled to a United Kingdom that gifts us stability and security in the face of choppy global waters and saves us from the hassle of making crucial political decisions for ourselves. At the other end, we’re a proud nation of untold prosperity, a nirvana of wealth and social justice primed to emerge after our divorce from our oppressors in Westminster.
For anyone in between and still grappling with their identity, the Economist helpfully informed us recently that being Scottish means painting a Saltire on your face, wearing a Jimmy hat and shouting at nothing in particular. Glad that’s sorted then.
The truth is that very few of us will see ourselves in these broad-brushed caricatures of Scottish identity. I certainly don’t. In fact, the more I force myself to think about it, the clearer it becomes that I don’t have a bloody clue what it means to be Scottish.
Last month we carried a view of the Scottish independence debate from the Canadian province of Quebec. Today we hear from the English-speaking side of the country.
In English-speaking Canada, few people seem to be aware of Scotland’s independence referendum. It doesn’t register much in the papers, much less our cheerfully oblivious TV news. The couple of friends I’ve told about it were interested, but mainly viewed the event as they would the World Cup: a distant, if intriguing, foreign phenomenon.
Conversely, Scotland’s view of Canada has been quite the opposite. Commentators on both the Yes and No sides have drawn explicit parallels with the Canadian experience, especially Quebec’s fraught history of referenda and sovereignty debate.
As a Canadian-American who’s spent a good deal of time south of the border, however, I think there’s a much more apt comparison to be made.
Canada’s bizarre love-hate relationship with our dysfunctional, arrogant, yet somehow still likeable neighbours and friends in the United States of America is both cautionary and optimistic. And it indicates the absolute need for a Yes vote.
Until relatively recently I was very firmly of the mind that Scotland shouldn’t be independent. Born in England to English parents but growing up in Scotland since I was a baby, I was English to the Scottish and Scottish to the English. I’ve always considered myself British and still do. Not in a nationalistic way, just a matter of fact.
In 2008 while in my second year at university I started an anti-independence Facebook group as a misguided joke, calling it ‘I Hate Alex Salmond’. I actually didn’t hate Alex Salmond, I’ve actually always thought he was a good politician, I just didn’t agree with some of what he stood for (and of course, one thing in particular).
So following a bit of negative press and some pressure from the university, I decided to change the name of the group to ‘No to Scottish Independence’. And then, gradually, some other things started to change too.
In 2009, nearing the end of my Masters degree in Scotland and with the UK recession in full swing, I decided to leave for New Zealand. I’ll admit that the decision was somewhat influenced by a breathtaking TV ad. Sweeping helicopter shots of stunning mountain ranges, photogenic youngsters frolicking on sunny beaches, and a thumping soundtrack. I still can’t listen to “Forever Young” without goosebumps.
New Zealand is a country slightly larger than Great Britain with a population smaller than Scotland. Famed for its beautiful scenery, laid-back lifestyle and sporting achievements, this small and successful country where I still live, tucked away in the southwestern Pacific Ocean, provides an ideal argument for an independent Scotland.
As a French Quebecer belonging to a generation that was deeply influenced by Harry Potter, it was with great interest and concern that I read JK Rowling’s recent letter on why she opposes Scotland’s independence.
Of herself and her fellow Scots, she justly writes that “whatever Scotland decides, we will probably find ourselves justifying our choice to our grandchildren.”
Well, I’m one of those grandchildren previous generations now find themselves having to justify their decisions to, and I can tell you how it went for us.
The second weekend in June played host to the Selkirk Common Riding, the oldest of the Ridings events in the Scottish Borders. For the uninitiated, this centuries-old tradition incorporates a series of festivities in the town, the centrepiece of which is a cavalcade of several hundred horses galloping around the perimeter of the Royal Burgh, ensuring the town’s ancient boundaries are in good order (ie that no pesky Sassenachs have invaded the territory).
Despite being raised in the nearby village of Ashkirk and attending Selkirk High School, I was never interested in the Riding. Even in primary school whilst being taught the lyrics to “Auld Selkirk” and “Hail Smilin Morn” it didn’t seem relevant – I only went to my first ride-out last year because my Polish girlfriend was intrigued.
“Great Britain” began with the Union of the Crowns in 1603, when James theVI of Scotland ascended to the Throne of England and Ireland, but the “United Kingdom” didn’t come into existence until the Act of Union in 1707, which effectively dissolved the Scottish Parliament. The “British Empire” began with the Union with Scotland and, if those in support of a Yes vote have their way, it will end with Scottish independence.
But what’s any of that got to do with Barack Obama?
One of the most commonly-occurring arguments proffered by the left side of the No camp (regardless of how often it’s comprehensively debunked) is that should Scotland decide to leave the Union, it would condemn the English to perpetual Tory rule.
It’s essentially an appeal for Scotland to give up the chance of self-governance in order to mitigate someone else’s problem. But it could be even worse than that.
Why would an Englishman vote for Scottish independence? Why would a whole group of English people vote Yes? It’s a question I’ve been asked many times, and which the group I helped to co-found last week, “English Scots for Yes”, intends to answer.
I’m Will McLeod and I’m the Government and World Affairs Correspondent for Netroots Radio in Washington, DC. I’ve been following the Scottish independence referendum for a few years now. Most of the fallacious arguments I’ve seen have been pretty well knocked down, but there’s one in particular that keeps cropping up which is absolutely ridiculous and needs to be dealt with.
I also do policy work for various people, and since no other foreign policy and government policy geeks have knocked down the NATO argument and the defense spending argument, I’ve decided to throw my hat into the ring.
The deeply dodgy fake-grassroots “Vote No Borders” group of wealthy London-based PR people has been rolling out its “unpolished” voters (their term, not ours) again, this time in a series of what must have been fairly pricey adverts in the Daily Record.
The simplistic, often dreadfully-misinformed quotes in the ads have been causing some irritation and anger among Yes supporters on social media, which is understandable but not constructive. After all, many of us have relied on the press for our information about one thing or another in the past too, and learned a bitter lesson.
So let’s see if we can’t actually be polite and helpful instead.
It’s a Bank Holiday and frankly there’s absolutely bugger-all of any interest in the news today, so I hope you’ll forgive me a personal indulgence, readers. I’ve only used the personal pronoun for a couple of Wings articles out of over 2,300 in the site’s two and a half years of existence, because the independence debate isn’t about me. But a curious piece in today’s Herald by David Torrance merits such a response.
If you don’t see what it’s got to do with that video*, bear with me.
