The strange country I inhabit is not where I thought it was at all. My England. I keep being told that whatever I may feel, I am part of a glorious union – with Scotland. It is like accidentally joining a guided tour to which I never signed up. This tour guide is everywhere, intoning events that made us great. The UK’s wars and empire, and all the great men – Adam Smith, and the Tarmac one ... sorry, I glazed over there, but these history lessons are somewhat samey and somewhat ideological. People will vote yes or no, often because of living history: the near past and the near present. For the omissions are equally telling, from the clearances to the occupation of Ireland.
Now we are being bathed in some dodgy supra-nationalism of Britishness that is clearly omnishambolic. Hence the final Westminster dash and the political equivalent of a drunk text to an ex: the vow, which is already controversial and subject to arguments about costing among those who think Scotland already gets a good deal. Directives from those who know best to vote against independence if you want independence. Blaring headlines about Alex Salmond being a power-crazed egotist (more than likely) and how heckling politicians is not very nice. Heckling!
Compare the English headlines to the report by the Scottish police, pouring scorn on the idea that the country was on the verge of societal disintegration. Of course, there is no bullying at Westminster: just ask Gordon Brown and Alastair Campbell, who have been doing their bit for the mystical union. There, it is non-stop cricket and cucumber sarnies. But the people of Scotland will lapse into sectarian violence at the drop of a fried Twix.
Surely if this “political reformation”, as John Harris described it, happened anywhere else, we would be calling it a velvet revolution and marvelling at democracy in action. It may well be fierce, shouty and messy, but these are undeniably voices from below and we should listen. The SNP, once conservative and narrow-mindedly nationalist, has turned itself into something that can harness progressive forces. It is Labour’s loss and shame that they have been unable to do this. Until now.
But the blinkers are on, and instead we have a misty-eyed romanticism and still more patronising guff about who gets to define a suitable kind of nationalism. The rally in Trafalgar Square was said to be essentially British: quiet, vague flag-waving addressed by the nonetheless Irish Bob Geldof. Good things were said about the badness of borders. I agree. Perhaps we may look forward to a world government and the end of all nation states. Perhaps pigeons can fly.
This coy Britishness on display was engineered by Dan Snow, whose father-in-law owns 96,000 acres of land in Scotland. Samantha Cameron’s stepdad owns another great tranche, but it is not done to mention these things. Britishness apparently is not about ownership of land – though that seems to be kind of basic.
When people speak of the union, I feel nothing. It is as if they are describing a cult. I am English, not Scottish or Welsh or Irish. Simple. If Scotland becomes independent and I need a passport to go there, so be it. If this is what people choose, and there are a few years of uncertainty, then that is what will happen. If its currency is still controlled by the Bank of England, that can’t be full independence and is indeed problematic. That is to be decided.
But least of the problems is this strange dry-eyed weeping from the English. Here Britishness and Englishness are used fairly interchangeably. This is the prerogative and the privilege of imperial British nationalism, which people won’t even admit is nationalism. If that were accepted we could see what this is about: the British state and its crises. An economy that works on asset-stripping, privatisation and keeping wages low is exactly what many Scots are rejecting. Successive governments have deemed inequality an acceptable price to pay for “fairness”. That fairness included bailing out the banks and the subsequent austerity, and there were always going to be repercussions. If “Britishness” is quiet acceptance, then do not be surprised if someone rattles the cage. There has been so little opposition to the status quo that Scottish independence appears to have come out of nowhere. Because much of Scotland did not count as somewhere, just as much of England does not.
Promises are now being made and a longing emerges for what can never be again. The glory days are gone, but both Scotland and England can be multicultural, dynamic and open. Nationalism does not always have to be in the service of bigotry. To hold on to Scotland as a bulwark against nationalism is as short-sighted as Labour taking Scotland for granted. A different set of values is now required, an alternative narrative. As Paul Gillespie wrote: “The bonds of empire, war, Protestantism and welfare” that kept the UK together have eroded.
All this fretting about neighbours becoming foreigners is a denial about who we already are. Rather than post-national identities, post-sovereignty is the aim. Open borders, mobility and federalism could have been offered through devo max – but they weren’t, so now we have the entire establishment yelling “no, no, no”.
So I say yes. Take a leap towards self-rule. One can be on the side of change or against it. The thing is, change is here now, whatever happens. Finally, thankfully, yes.