In the 1992 general election 75% of the electorate in Scotland voted for parties supporting independence or devolution. Despite this the Conservative Prime Minister, John Major, dismissed calls for devolution immediately after the election. In response James Kelman wrote a satirical essay called Let the Wind Blow High Let the Wind Blow Low. In the essay Kelman satirises representative democracy, Scotland’s political class and their self serving commitment to working within the system.
Propriety will become the mark of the movement. When we march forward we shall march solidly, not breaking ranks; we shall comb our hair and wear smart leather shoes, dress in suits and shirts and ties—formal highland attire will not be frowned upon—this includes females and those from an ethnic background, for this way forward will unite everybody regardless of gender, race, creed or culture and will be led by a multifarious but patriotic group of notables: various party leaders, media personalities and constitutional experts; S.T.U.C. full-timers, representatives from the different religions—priests, ministers, mullahs, rabbis etc.—all striding arm-in-arm with bright-new-dawns glistening on our rubicund faces.
The democratic deficit in Scotland was clearly unacceptable and unsustainable. So calls for constitutional change had political logic and democratic weight to them. In 1997 Tony Blair was elected and introduced a devolution-all-round strategy to address not only the popular demands for constitutional change in Scotland, but also in Wales and in the Six Counties. This UK State strategy was driven by the State’s need to contain these democratic demands through a process of reconfiguration of State institutions. Rather than being driven by Celtic nationalism. That is to say it was a process characterised by shifting government functions from one geographical location to another while retaining State power at the centre.
2024 marks the 25th anniversary of the establishment of the Scottish parliament. It is also the 10th anniversary of Scotland’s independence referendum, which took place on September 18th 2014. The discourse around commemorative events has been revealing. It tells us a lot about the political condition of Scotland today, the strengths (and weaknesses) of Scottish nationalism and the left, and the myths that have been created around these two significant democratic developments. And the failure to take seriously the politics underpinning Kelman’s satire.
The Scottish parliament was partly created to absorb cultural Scottishness, the shift in consciousness, the sentiments and resentments, that had steadily risen throughout the Thatcher and Major years. As a way of diverting concerns over the democratic deficit away from political action against the State towards containment within State institutions. Unsurprisingly then the Scottish parliament has not improved the material conditions for working class people. Perhaps more surprisingly it has not closed the democratic deficit either. For working class communities the difference between a decision made in Holyrood or Westminster is only a matter of geography. Nothing more. Decisions are still being taken by another class, somewhere else and imposed on our communities. Decisions which are destroying our communities and lives. Just look at the Scottish statistics for drug deaths, alcohol related deaths, cuts to vital services, mental health crisis etc etc. Working class people continue to be intentionally excluded from decision making processes. Geography is not the answer. Politics is. Instead of the democratic deficit we need to address the political deficit.
The State’s strategy was only partly successful in the short term. Support for nationalism continued to grow and the election of the Scottish National Party (SNP) to government at Holyrood in 2007 started the clock on the independence referendum which would eventually be held in 2014. Much of the commentary and events marking the 10th anniversary have focused on the Yes ‘movement’ rather than the politics. There is a good reason for that. It is much easier to celebrate the positive personal experiences people had during the campaign than interrogate the reasons for losing a winnable referendum. And it was a winnable referendum. The No campaign was woeful. Led by inept politicians in Scotland and a Tory government in London, headed by two old Etonians, inflicting austerity on communities across the country. Very few people were enthusiastic about the status quo. For the working class the status quo was the problem. It was a great set of circumstances to run a campaign for change in Scotland.
But the SNP ran a campaign not for transformational change but for change that would be no change at all. They actually boasted that nobody would notice the difference after a Yes vote. To understand this we need to introduce politics into the situation. Something that both sides successfully avoided during the referendum campaign. I recognise this will seem strange to people. How can it be all these politicians, and the respective Yes and No campaigns, can be seen as non-political?
The reason is the State set the parameters of the change that could be discussed. Two former UK Prime Ministers, John Major and Gordon Brown, gave speeches effectively setting out the State’s position. The State were not opposed to more constitutional change, they argued. The State did not care how Scotland chose to run our schools, hospitals, transport system etc, but certain key state powers must remain controlled at the centre. These included monarch as head of state, British military, diplomatic and security services, and the economy, with Bank of England as lender of last resort, must all remain in place. The SNP very quickly conceded all these points (and changed their position to support NATO). So, with the parameters set, the official Yes Scotland campaign (tightly controlled by the SNP) was left arguing for change that looked more like Dominion status than independence. A debate about the location of certain government departments rather than a campaign for the transformational politics of emancipation the working class need. Instead of an aspirational campaign about meaningful, even systemic, change, we got a campaign about flags, not power or class.
Within the Yes movement the priority was unity. Some people might think that makes sense. Why have people on the same side arguing over issues like the monarchy? Or about Scotland’s role in British militarism and imperialism? Can we not all put aside our (political) differences, they asked, and just agree on a democratic demand? The answer, for those of us engaged in political struggle, is no. We cannot put aside differences of politics. That is what politics is. It is a dialectical process. A movement which prioritises unity over politics is doomed, politically. Politics is always contested. It is a conflict between different politics. If the politics of a movement is reduced to unity. If the unity of the movement is reduced to representative democracy. Politics is pushed out. Excluded. That is what happened in 2014.
The exclusion of politics and the acceptance that State power could not be challenged led, inevitably, to the undoing of the Yes campaign. When pushed on basic issues like what currency an independent Scotland would use, the campaign floundered. The Yes movement was, for many, a positive and exciting time. The huge rallies, the feeling of being part of something dynamic, the social life. People who had previously never been in a housing scheme visited on a ‘day of action’ and discovered we were not savages. Many myths were created and careers built on missionary work during Indyref. All of this should not be dismissed. We need to understand what it means. For a start it explains how in the closing stages of the campaign emotion took over. When you have no answers to political questions, because you have excluded politics, emotion, not reason, is what you have left. It is good that some people can look back on the referendum defeat as a positive period of their lives. It is good many of them found new friends and perhaps even found themselves. But they are looking back on a historical moment. Not a political moment.
Let me be clear why this matters and what is at stake here. Those of us engaged in working class self-organising and embracing the politics of emancipation are engaged in a politics outside the State. I often refer to it as street politics of the working class in contrast to the professional politics of the political class. I do not accept the State’s right to set the parameters of the debate on independence, either Scotland’s or mine. I do not accept the State deciding what change is possible and what change is impossible. Even if, as Kelman’s essay suggests, that does not win popularity contests.
‘Pure’ politics are forced to the sidelines. It becomes bad form to discuss one’s differences. Unity is the watchword. It isn’t a time for awkward questions. Those who persist are shown up as perverse, slightly bammy, crackpots—or occasionally as unpatriotic. What we discuss is what we are allowed to discuss.
While I stand by the criticisms of the Yes movement and those who jumped on that bandwagon, there is plenty room for self criticism too. The James Connolly Society did not have a good referendum campaign. We worked hard to introduce Connolly, John Maclean and class politics into the debate. We did so with mixed results. The JCS were a few years into our Return to Connolly strategy. The key staging posts we had envisaged were the 2016 centenary of the Easter Rising and the 150th anniversary of James Connolly’s birth in Edinburgh in 2018. So we were overstretched to begin with. But scheduling was not the biggest problem we had. Our strategic turn, away from Irish solidarity work and back towards Connolly and class politics, was meant to culminate in 2018. The period before that was one that had to be managed carefully. The 2014 independence referendum came at the worst possible time for us. Because it pulled in a different political direction from our destination.
So we all have lessons to learn. However, as we can see from the recent ‘movement’ against the far-right many would prefer to simply repeat the same mistakes over and over. As Kelman put it in 1992, “the People of Scotland will be instructed on the terms of solidarity required of them. We shall be advised of the proper way forward and that we must support this proper way forward at all costs.” Enough is enough. The political class abandoned the working class. They created the political vacuum the far-right are attempting to occupy. The people who created the crisis cannot be the political beneficiaries. After 25 years of the Scottish parliament and ten years on from the independence referendum we need to pause, reflect and learn the correct lessons. If not now, when?
Of course, I have enough self-awareness to know that my advice is neither sought nor welcomed. But let me offer it anyway. In any future movement unity must be built around politics. Not only democratic demands or negative slogans or positive feelings. But built around a shared political vision of the future. It is obvious this must mean accepting internal political differences, debates and even robust disagreements. Secondly, the politics must be outside the state. It should not need explained at this juncture that the State is not the vehicle for the systemic change we need. Finally, we can never allow the State to set the parameters on what can be discussed. We can never accept our enemies deciding what is possible and what is impossible. We, through our politics, collective action and building political strength, will decide what change is possible. And everyone should read James Kelman.