In the summer of 1706, amidst the turmoil of a failed colonial scheme in Panama and the War of Spanish Succession, and under pressure from the English government, the Scottish Parliament voted to abolish itself. It would be nearly three hundred years before a parliament of any sort would sit at Holyrood in Edinburgh. And now, seven hundred years after Robert the Bruce’s Scots routed Edward II’s forces at the Battle of Bannockburn, it looks strangely likely that the United Kingdom established in 1707 may come apart before its very eyes.
Ever since the Scottish National Party, led by the charismatic Alex Salmond and with nationalism at its ideological center, won an unexpected majority at Holyrood in the elections of 2011, everyone knew that there would be a referendum on independence. But, oddly, nobody south of Dumfries seems to have taken it seriously until two days ago. The “Yes” campaign had lagged behind in the polls until then, but on Sunday morning the Times published results showing the campaign two points ahead. Westminster immediately sprang into action with stunning speed and unity, reinvigorating the lackluster “Better Together” anti-independence campaign and seeing the three major parties working together in a way not seen in seventy years. England has finally realized that the Union, that ancient and cherished institution, might soon disintegrate, and less than a fortnight remains to save it.
When considering the prospect of Scottish independence, we must not allow ourselves to lapse into visions of William Wallace and virulent young nationalists with the Cross of Saint Andrew painted on their faces as they parade down the Royal Mile. No, this independence movement, now so tantalizingly close to success, is not a product of such romantic nationalism, but rather basic electoral politics.
The Conservatives, ostensibly in coalition with the Liberal Democrats, reign in Westminster, where a neoliberal consensus has ruled for thirty years. Scotland wants none of that. Take a look at the composition of the Scottish delegation to Westminster. It is simply astonishing: fifty-nine MPs and only one is a Tory. In the Lowlands, Labour dominates; the Highlands are Lib Dem and SNP territory. This is not a nation seeking to rediscover deluded echoes of some illusory past glory; rather this is a nation whose politics are frankly far different from those of the body that governs it. At the 2010 general election, the Conservatives were the fourth party in Scotland. Who can blame the Scots for seeking an independence from a government which they emphatically did not elect and which is instead mostly composed of MPs from non-metropolitan England?
Alex Salmond, the wily First Minister of Scotland, knows this. He has presented the referendum to Scotland as a chance to opt out of the dominance of English Toryism and instead turn to the Scandinavian states as a model. Scotland could become a burgeoning social-democratic republic, its morals and governmental structure hearkening back to Clement Attlee’s postwar Labour government—deliberately turning away from the hungry capitalistic model of the increasingly dominant, disproportionally powerful London area. Here is a chance for Scotland to make itself into what it pleases, not as England does, for the first time in over three hundred years, and the Scots—even though there are still many, many unknowns, the largest being whether Scotland could keep the sterling—should take it. Westminster’s intimidation and bullying of the Scots during the campaign, coupled with a flippant dismissal of the referendum until the Tories realized it all might go wrong, has already demonstrated how little the Prime Minister’s government cares for the Labour voters in the north. North Sea oil showed Scots hopes of a bountiful independence; now Alex Salmond has showed them the means to make this dream reality. They would do well to act on it.
Westminster will certainly try to block independence in the next ten days; today David Cameron released a plan, essentially, for a form of Scottish Home Rule. But if there is one lesson from British history, it is that resistance to calls for devolution or independence in the kingdoms is futile. In 1886, the great Liberal Prime Minister William Ewart Gladstone spoke before Parliament in favor of Irish Home Rule, and he deserves to be quoted at length:
“The difference between giving with freedom and dignity on the one side, with acknowledgment and gratitude on the other, and giving under compulsion — giving with disgrace, giving with resentment dogging you at every step of your path — this difference is, in our eyes, fundamental, and this is the main reason not only why we have acted, but why we have acted now.”
The failure to pass Irish Home Rule in 1886 was Parliament’s greatest misstep, for thirty years later Ireland would win it by force, souring relations between the two countries to this day. A similar attempt to block the inexorable historical force of devolutionary nationalism, especially if the Scots have already voted for it, would certainly prove equally erroneous. Westminster should heed Gladstone’s words: always better to part as friends than as enemies. Should the Scots vote to secede, should they have their Parliament sit in Edinburgh once more, let them, make no move against it. All Britain may live under two governments, but in one harmony.