Scotland’s referendum; hidden nationalism, role politics and the underlying problem of Europe?

As a foreigner currently residing in the UK, I have over the past few years been able to appreciate the politics of Britain – a place which I now call a second home. Most of my time has been spent in Scotland and my experience of reading and talking about the referendum has led me to reflect about an underlying problem pervading not just Britain but also much of European politics. My thoughts on the subject are not yet entirely clear; but I thought that by jotting them down, I would be able to make better sense of what is at stake. So allow me to sketch my points by way of thought experiments, beginning with my initial assumptions about the referendum and ending with what I consider, personally, to be some of the underlying issues affecting Scottish independence and broader European politics.

To start, let us address what many of us take now for granted: nationalism.

Rousseau in the 18^th Century, when recommending a constitution for Poland, made a rather explicit appeal for polish authenticity: “I should like Poland to be, in all these respects, itself, not like some other country; for only by being itself will it become all that it is capable of being.”

Scotland has certainly followed Rousseau’s recommendation for Poland. Having lived in Scotland for five years, I am convinced that Scotland is not “like some other country”. Scotland, in the words of Rousseau, is already “itself”: having  all the attributes of a unique, authentic nationhood or collective unity – a national anthem, a national flag, control over national education, a national parliament, a national team, a national instrument, a national plant, national wear, national heroes and all the like.

Though nationalism is not the reason for the referendum, it has always been there in the background and behind a lot of rhetorical hogwash on both sides of the border. Indeed, the peculiarity in referring to Scotland, Britain, or the people of any other nation-state for that matter, is that many of us are now comfortable in saying who we are without actually defining it. Being Scottish or Portuguese is rather self-explanatory. But that betrays a subtlety which makes separatist politics difficult to disentangle. I actually have no problems in locating Scotland the land, Scotland the culture, but do find it difficult to locate “actual” Scots, though I am often assured that they do in fact exist. A friend of mine – born outside the UK - once informed me that he was a “Scot” but not an “ethnic Scot”. I was puzzled by the remark and found no satisfactory answers for what exactly he meant.

My curiosity for understanding what it is to be a Scot, however, was sincere because I too was baffled what was once to me pretty straightforward. Having arrived in the UK, my understanding of British differences was based on the kilt-wearers and the non-kilt wearers and some vague notions about accents. There was the Queen’s accent, Dick Van Dyke’s (apparently unconvincing) Cockney and Mel Gibson’s Scottish. But after landing in Edinburgh, I realised Mel Gibson got it wrong, and having lived in (the Kingdom of) Fife and now in England the references have all but disappeared. Britain is far too diverse in accents but, for me, homogenous enough in its culture to make me have to dig deep to unpack what this whole issue of independence was about. As is often the case when being part of a national-state system, I assumed first that it was some underlying nationalist question that was causing the divide.

But it was not just my own assumptions that led me to that way of thinking, for in the course of my conversations, the Scots, especially, made either tacit or explicit reference to the differences between the two nations: “The Scottish are more hospitable”; “The Scots are friendlier”; “The English are Posh”; “the English are more arrogant and inconsiderate” are all remarks I have heard either overtly or implied in many a talk about independence. Yet those labels, too, if unpacked carefully, have little of nationalism. Rather they were more about some sort of entrenched economic divide than anything else. By the same token, politicians in Edinburgh were also not so keen on using nationalism in the defense of independence. It would mean actually defining that rather illusive concept of what it is to be a Scot, and the referendum nicely avoids the issue by making voter-eligibility a matter of residency; rather than one of birth or ancestry. So independence was, fortunately, not being pursed under the auspices of Walter Scott being better than Kipling or of the Scottish way of life facing extinction (albeit the latter still having some resonance, though not necessarily under purely nationalistic terms).

So I then turned toward looking at class inequality. But there too I found lots of talk, yet poor arguments. For one, the experience of class divide seems to me a much broader phenomenon. It is more a UK thing than a distinct national trait of either Scotland or England. One’s education, for example, makes class readily apparent - be it in Edinburgh or in London - because in the UK, curiously, education shapes not just the vocabulary but the accent too. Of course, not all those who speak the English version of Hochdeutsch are wealthy nor do they necessarily identify themselves as posh, but it does entrench an already prevalent sense of division. I also have my doubts about whether the differences in class reflect any sort of systematically distinct type of action in Britain, whether north or south of the border. Differences in accent or even clothing aside, I feel that the two or three classes – regardless of which side of the border they live - would not take issue with partaking in some of the more typical British delights: having a picnic in a park; admonishing the weather; not finding that three to four pounds for either lager or tepid British Ale is excessively expensive; having no qualms with drinking white or rose wine when the weather is chilly outside; enjoy Sunday lunch; referring to the same pop songs; watching the Bake Off; talking about class differences; probably having a relative, even if a distant one, who is a vicar; frequenting a pub once in a while; referring to the Daily Mail as either a wonderful source of gossip or as the pernicious source of all gossip; indulging in curry; eating chips at the beach or anywhere else for that matter; somehow enjoying fancy dress; respecting the impartiality of the BBC (which maybe is likely to wane after the referendum); calling surrounding neighbours European, except the Irish who are lovingly admired for being just that, “the Irish”; accusing non-British footballers of diving; never booing your own club after a dismal performance; and not being the least bit surprised that besides lettuce there are other vegetarian options available in a restaurant. 

So building national differences based on some sort of general class difference did seem strange to me, but politics today is more about emphasizing particular, often petty, differences rather than arguing about different general ideas or suggesting alternative arguments. That would be too unpredictable and is in fact an issue pervading both the UK and Europe (though the UK is part of Europe – politically and culturally). Unfortunately the result is that those who actually gain from the focus on petty discussions is the far right, who always appear to be more spontaneous. Indeed, much of the debate around the referendum, particularly in private conversations, seems rather shaped by roles which in one way or another capture those petty class differences and particular grievances with which so many British - Scots and English alike - identify. In effect, one might as well speak of UK politics as being shaped by competing roles: eager Cameronites, pompous Borisites, lukewarm Milibandites, cunning Salmondites, uninspiring Cleggites and mischievous Faragites.

In no way, though, is this experience of politics something unique to Britain. One need only cross the English Channel and go to France or down to the far West of Europe, such as Portugal, and find the same sort of political squabbling. In Lisbon, though politics is not characterized by grievances over class, there are roles, or let us call them parties, that shape politics. There, most roles are turned toward the centre-left, and the electoral success is also dictated by addressing petty grievances; accusing one role of misrepresenting the centre or of beleaguering the true meaning of the centre-left. The form in Britain is the same, albeit different in content: Cameronites and Borisites are conservative economically and sometimes culturally, though their approaches differ only in the degree of hilarious pomposity. Milibandites, Salmondites and Cleggites are those who remain committed to a left after the Blair years brought UK politics definitely toward the centre. They are thus at odds with how to differentiate themselves, albeit knowing for certain that Thatcher’s grandchildren (Cameronites and Borisites) are loathsome, but far more acceptable than the Faragites. Milibandites are middle-class proponents of more workers’ rights in a post-industrial era; Cleggites are well-intentioned, uninspiring speakers from the middle class for the middle class; and Salmondites are the new kids on the block, taking identity away from the conservatives and mixing it up with social issues. They can, for that reason, be more appealing and certainly more innovative than the rather dull, repetitive Milibandites and Cleggites. They would also seem original like the Faragites in the way they mix identity or degrees of nationalism with social issues, but that is far as the comparison goes. For Salmondites know what they want and what they do not want; Faragites know perhaps what they don’t want, but certainly don’t know what they want, which is how to maintain the illusion of political consistency.

If UK politics is seen according to a role-playing drama, the plot for Scottish independence is disputed between entrenched Salmondites against the Cameronites and Borisites. Milbandites and Cleggites, in contrast, are reluctant secondary actors. Yet, being representatives of a distinctive class and fearing that the Salmondites may eventually lead the way toward a new left, they are reluctantly walking alongside their arch-rivals on the right.

As already noted, Salmond and the SNP, while tying in social issues with identity, do not address nationalism explicitly. It’s a taboo issue, for too much of an emphasis on nationalism would in fact disparage the leftist credentials of the SNP and the overall socialist-leaning ideas with which most Scots, alongside Northern English – where the industrial revolution had full sway - identify. Hence, the surest way to voice publicly what many Scots discuss privately in conversation is by suggesting that the welfare way of life in Scotland, in and of itself, is inherently part of its make-up. And that seems to be one of the strategies of the campaign. Of course, if that were the only argument put forth against Westminster, it would be self-defeating, for the differences between the Salmondite and the Milibandite would wane, each of whom sees him or herself as a defender of workers’ rights. Moreover, the Milibandite, as an older defender of those rights, would probably be able to placate the efforts of the Samondite. So with nationalism being put to the side – publicly at least - and with only partial success in mixing nationalism with welfare, it is the social-economic question of independence which has led the debate in the last few months.

That is where, unfortunately, the debate has remained, with endless reports and counter-reports about the potential material success of Scotland, culminating, of course, with Alistair Darling pointing the finger at Mr Salmond: ‘What about the pound, Mr Salmond?’; ‘Is it x or y barrels of oil that we have in the North Sea, Mr Salmond?’.

To an extent, a debate on economic well-being is to be expected, though I find the alarm-bells pressed by some professional economists, such as the renowned Paul Krugman, unconvincing. Scotland can of course have the pound while keeping budgetary independence, if it coordinates its policies with London. Comparing it with the recent events in the EURO zone, as many so-called experts have done, is over-extending a historical analogy. It misses the point that two-state coordination is not as complex as coordinating the whole eighteen members of the euro zone. But there are, of course, pressing concerns which the non-Salmondites are right to point out, such as the issue of national debt amongst others. Uncertainties will exist and I feel it is very likely that a slump will be rather expected in the “short-term” (whatever that means in economist lingo), especially if subsequent conversations between an independent Scotland and foreign investors do not take a polite route. Panic will do harm and very little good, if Scotland becomes independent. At any rate, Westminster parties have done such a poor job in warning about those uncertainties (and not focusing on other issues such as cultural unity, for example) that it has only helped in reinforcing those petty difference that already characterize private antagonism against the English. Although Westminster has 52 Scottish MPs, the voices we hear are those of a Cameron and Miliband and haughty Osborne, who, like patronising brothers, punish Salmond for being naughty. ‘No pound for you, sir! Now, be quiet and take some more fiscal powers instead!’

It is too late to consider whether the campaign could have gone differently. And while I have emphasized what seems to me petty differences that have to an extent instigated and evidently politicized the whole issue of independence, as it should have been, there is something to the underlying grievance of Scots with which I fully identify. However, it has, little to do with social class roles and how those get mixed up with an idea of a nation being different than another. Sadly, though, it may be too late to prevent that from becoming the predominant narrative.

What I see in Scottish independence is the continued centralization of states to the point of them becoming city-states. Scottish independence will not solve it because, as a small country, it will experience the same that other smaller and peripheral nations already face in the EU: periphery. My impression is that Scots (and perhaps the North of England too) do legitimately feel that - in spite of globalization, social media and news channels - London and thus Westminster are actually more distant: a sort of inverse proportional growth, where technology facilitates movement, but also gradually confines that movement within one delimited space. The positive spill-over of city-state growth is multi-culturalism and the potential effacement of our national, social stereotypes at the centre; the negative effect, however, is the emptying of the periphery and the rising cost of living at the centre.

If we picture the UK as a smaller version of the EU, we see that, like the EU, it is booming economically. But that is only if we take the whole as indicative of all. In fact, the EU’s motor is mainly Germany and the UK’s London. So what has happened and still happens in the EU is the flow of people to the city-states. What Scotland sees - and Salmondites note implicitly and sometimes explicitly - is increased centralisation and thus the ‘brain drain’ of Scots from Edinburgh and Glasgow to London. For the Salmondites, the problem is perceived to be caused mainly by the policies of Westminster and Cameronites alike. Independence therefore becomes the solution.

But I do not buy it, even assuming that a small state like Scotland could be wealthy enough to contour the problem of periphery. The problem is not necessarily one of sovereignty. It is apparently economic on the surface, due to the changing technological landscape of our world (as well as growth in the East) and only in part reinforced by the policies led by Westminster. And it has remained problematic, because the underlying issue of representation remains unaddressed. Technology and the ease with which it facilitates centralisation aside, jobs and work are also attracted to where power lies. It is not by mere coincidence that the European Parliament, which otherwise convenes in Brussels most of the year, has to meet mandatorily in Strasbourg for at least twelve sessions a year. The French in this respect have always been very clear about how their power (and by power I do not mean simply material power, but the power that comes from collective action) might wane within an EU system which would be unable to maintain, even if only the illusion of, representation. But, of course, I am not lambasting solely against the EU. Within Europe there is too much of Central Europe and too little of Peripheral Europe. Likewise in Britain: jobs, parliament, the Sovereign’s palace can almost all be found within a few square miles surrounding Trafalgar Square. In the EU, power lies mainly in Brussels, being also dispersed around the capitals of larger countries and the remaining manufacturing centres of Europe.

While economically it is obviously difficult and perhaps dictatorial to tell companies to stay in one place rather than another, that is not the case for political representation. Technology need not only drive centralization. In a world of swift transport, social media, and face-to-face communication, why do key governmental offices of the EU – the commission, parliament, the European Council - have to remain around Brussels in particular, and around the rest of Central Europe in general? Why do major decision-holders in the UK remain and thus drag people to crowded London? Why does government (I do not mean the legislature), in fact, have to stay permanently in one city in the 21^st Century?

Beyond these points, there are other perplexing issues in the UK that make (mis)representation - the feeling that distance between countries is increasing - problematic. The fact that the UK has no written constitution and that it still treasures institutions like the House of Lords only complicates issues of representation, especially as some of its seats are still hereditary. For Salmondites and the like, that is too much tradition getting in the way of politics, and it only distances Westminster further from Scotland. Surprisingly, though, Milibandites and Cleggites, particularly more rebellious factions thereof, did not see this as an opportunity for greater federalism or for discussing solutions about representation; for making citizens experience or at least feel the proximity of their institutions. Instead their campaign, being about the status quo for all except the Salmondites, was only reactive and did not explore underlying issues which pervade all of British and wider European politics.

Lord Sumption in a November 2013 speech made note of that problem in Scotland when he referred to the decline of the Kirk – the church of Scotland – throughout the past hundred years in establishing a sense of community and control over rural affairs. With no likely replacements, even with independence, the broader issue of representation will probably persist, with the exception that Edinburgh, rather than London, may gradually became the locus of new grievances. With a united UK (pardon the tautology) there would, at least, be the advantage of recognizing that representation and the problems of increased political disinterest are widespread, deeper issues, not just a national ones. In fact, what may happen if Scotland becomes independent is for enthusiasm to give rise to disillusionment - maybe even cynicism. Hannah Arendt accounted for the challenge which comes from revolution: how to continue addressing participation and actual representation. While independence is certainly not revolution, the change is there, and the challenge is to keep that feeling of belonging and activism after September 18^th.

So, regardless of the results of the referendum, and some hidden truths which it helped reveal, I am not optimistic that underlying issues will be addressed, either here or in Europe. If anything, a successful referendum might create a backlash in Europe by way of instilling divisive appeals to nationalism and identity rather than to actual discussions of politics, participation and representation. And so long as we persist in a politics of roles, rather than of issues, we are likely to be driven more by those partisan grievances than by actual arguments about our sense of belonging in the world of politics.