Tom Nairn argues for the - WordPress.comSinging the South African anti-Apartheid song Freedom is Coming at the separation wall in Bethlehem, a young man driving past stopped his car

Lesley RiddochonEdinburgh: the most British city• The crowd in historyThe financial collapse of Rangers• Scotland’s referendum: the case for two questions

radical feminist green

No 33 / SUMMER 2012 / £2

MAGAZINE OF SCOTLAND’S DEMOCRATIC LEFT

PLUSWHAT MAKES A SCOTTISH PLAY? SCOTTISH STUDIES AND THECURRICULUM FOR EXCELLENCE BOOK REVIEWS ON GLOBALISATIONAND SCOTTISH MIGRATION PLUS THE RISE ANDFALL OF TOMMY SHERIDAN POETRY FROM RONBUTLIN MY TURN TO BE MAYOR AGAIN, JEEVESTHE HAT SKETCHES FROM A SMALL WORLD

FRONTIERSTom Nairn argues for there-evaluation of anunfashionable concept inthe age of globalisation

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2 / SUMMER 2012 / PERSPECTIVES 33

Contents� Perspectives

No 33, summer 2012

EDITORIAL

MAXING OUT THE BALLOT

� Letters andcontributions(which we mayedit) arewelcome andshould be sentto the editor –contact detailsbelow.

With the recent launch offirst the Yes campaignfollowed, a few weeks

later, by the No campaign (orBetter Together, as they prefer tocall it), the Scottish politicalparties have now lined up inopposing camps to debate theissues in the two-year run-up tothe independence referendum.

We have argued previously thatthe issues are complex anddeserve reasoned debate but thatmay be too much to hope for asthe political sniping has alreadystarted – but that’s (most)politicians for you! For our partwe will pursue a “more light, lessheat” approach.

One of the most intriguingquestions to arise over thereferendum debate is whether theapparent wish of the largestnumber of Scots will berepresented at all in theindependence vote. Opinion pollshave consistently shown that someform of devo max enjoys thegreatest support, yet few of themain players among thepoliticians involved seem keen totake this on board.

A straight Yes/No question maybe desirable from the point ofview of simplicity, but the dangeris that that is not the questionScots want put to them.

David Purdy takes up thearguments in his article on page 9,and suggests that there is a casefor two votes, taking in the devomax option as well as the straight

Yes/No, and the mechanics of thatare easily manageable.

Things are likely to becomeclearer in the autumn when theScottish government reveals theoutcome of its recent consultationon the referendum.

Independence raises otherquestions, one of which TomNairn takes up in his article onfrontiers, an unfashionableconcept in the age of globalisation.Yet frontiers provide a muchneeded strengthening of variety inour world, and the seemingbackwards step Scots may make ingaining independence (resumingnationhood) is a necessary preludeto moving forward and thenecessary “remaking of GreatBritain”.

More parochially, but a topic ofno less importance for a largenumber of Scots, StephenMorrow looks at the debacle thatis the financial collapse ofRangers, and the disjuncturebetween the models of ownershipof football clubs in this countryand the loyalty of fans on theother.

Lesley Riddoch contributesanother fine article on Edinburghas the penultimate part of herseries on Scotland and we alsohave a full range of other issuestackled, both topical andhistorical, plus book reviews andall the regular stuff. Thanks asever to our contributors.Sean FeenyEditor

Perspectives is published four times a year byDemocratic Left Scotland, Number Ten, 10 Constitution Road, Dundee DD1 1LLTel: 01382 819641 / e: [email protected] / www.democraticleftscotland.org.uk

ISSN 2041-3629

Editor: Sean Feeny / Depute editor: Davie Laing / Circulation and promotions manager: David Purdy

Articles in Perspectives are copyright. Requests to reproduce any part of the magazine should beaddressed to the editor.

Copy deadline for issue 34 is Friday 31th August 2012.

For further information on Perspectives or to submit articles or letters, contact: The Editor,Perspectives, Democratic Left Scotland, Number Ten, 10 Constitution Road, Dundee DD1 1LLe: [email protected]

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3Sketches from a smallworldEurig Scandrett

5Frontiers:a re-evaluation Tom Nairn

9Scotland’s referendum:the case for two votesDavid Purdy

11Edinburgh: themost British cityLesley Riddoch

15The financialcollapse ofRangersStephen Morrow

19The crowd inhistoryWillie Thompson

23Scottish studiesand theCurriculum forExcellenceJean Urquhart

27What makes aScottish play?Paul Scott

30Book reviews:Globalisation andScottish migrationJim Phillips

33Book reviews:The rise and fall ofTommy SheridanBrian Pollitt

38My turn to bemayor again,JeevesTim Haigh

39DiaryJean Urquhart MSPis The Hat

A straightYes/Noquestionmay bedesirablefrom thepoint of viewof simplicity,but thedanger isthat that isnot thequestionScots wantput to them.

I’ve recently returned from a two week singing tourof the West Bank with the activist-choir SanGhan’ny (Arabic for “we shall sing”). Eleven of us,

including our leader, the peace activist, singer andsong writer Penny Stone (winner of this year’sAlistair Hulett Memorial Trust’s award for songs forsocial justice) visited villages and refugee camps,activists and artists and sang our way around theoccupied Palestinian territory, observing first handthe impact of the Israeli occupation and the powerfulresistance of the Palestinian people.

In some places we were able to share our songswith Palestinian performers, for example a publicconcert with the Ramallah based choir Zaridash. Atthe Dar Al-Fonon cultural centre in the Askar refugeecamp in Nablus, we performed to a group of youngpeople who, in return treated us to their award-winning break dance performance. In Hebron, besideShuhada Street, which is closed to its Palestinianresidents but open to settlers, the four year oldstudents of a kindergarten sang us songs ofPalestinian culture and the resilience of politicalprisoners.

Singing the South African anti-Apartheid songFreedom is Coming at the separation wall inBethlehem, a young man driving past stopped his carand enthusiastically joined in. An artist and activist inthe Bethlehem refugee camps of Aida and Al ’Aza, heproudly showed us some of his graffiti on the wall.This notorious separation wall, which was started bythe Israeli government in 2002 ostensibly for“security” following the second intifada (uprising),is actually built in the West Bank and is used toconfiscate Palestinian land and water sources,extend Israeli control on the ground, andpartition the West Bank into small bantustans. In2004, the International Court of Justice declaredthe separation wall to be contrary to internationallaw.

The state of Israel is bounded by theinternationally recognised Green Line which marksthe Armistice line at the end of hostilities in1949, plus the additional land illegallyannexed in 1967. The gap between theseparation wall and the Green Line isthe Seam Zone, for whichPalestinians need permits to enter. Inthe village of Jayyous, we metfarmers who had been deniedpermits (and therefore access totheir land) and others who hadbeen granted short-term permitson condition that they ceaseprotesting against the

occupation. Within the Jayyous Seam Zone weentered an area surrounded by “keep out” signs (inHebrew only) and sang the Boundary song fromGreenham Common (“They say this land is out ofbounds … this land is not yours to put boundariesaround”). This particular area has been confiscatedfrom Palestinian farmers to expand the settlement ofZufin, using Israeli civil or martial laws, Britishmandate laws or even Ottoman Sharia law!

All Israeli settlements in the West Bank are, ofcourse, illegal in international law, being contrary tothe Geneva conventions, but range in size betweenthe “outposts” of a few militant Zionist fanatics withmilitary protection, through to several cities ofaround 40,000 residents. Near to the village of DierIstiya, home to the International Women’s PeaceService, is the beautiful valley of Wadi Qana. With itsrunning stream, deep pools, fertile floor and steepsides it has been used for generations by villagers forfruit production, animal grazing and relaxation,except that at the top of every hill around the valleynow there is a settlement. By stealing land, extractingthe water and using the valley to dump rubbish andsewage, these settlements are attempting to drive outthe Palestinians, kill off the Wadi and claim it forthemselves. With the villagers resisting thisencroachment, we joined Penny in singing her owntribute song Wadi Qana.

To the west of Ramallah is the village of NabiSaleh, whose lands and water source has been seizedby the settlement of Halamish. The village holds ademonstration every Friday against which the Israeli

army reacts with brutal violence, as unarmed men,women and children, and stone-throwing youthsare attacked with tear gas and rubber bullets,often aimed directly at protestors. The use ofadministrative detention (detention without trial,

often for years) is widespread and six months ago,soldiers murdered the villager Mustafa Tamimi.Demonstrations are supported by Israeli anti-colonial

and international solidarity activists including,during our tour, San Ghan’ny. The

experience of being tear gassed, soakedwith foetid “skunk water” and firedat with rubber bullets whilstsinging peace songs such as HollyNear’s Gentle Angry People andPete Seeger’s Deep Blue Seawill stay with us all.

By contrast, thedemonstration at AlMa’asara near toBethlehem was a

considerably more peaceful

PERSPECTIVES 33 / SUMMER 2012 / 3

EURIG SCANDRETT

SKETCHES FROM A SMALL W RLDThisnotoriousseparationwall … isactually builtin the WestBank and isused toconfiscatePalestinianland andwatersources,extend Israelicontrol onthe ground,and partitionthe WestBank intosmallbantustans.


event, where soldiers simply line up in the road tostop villagers and their supporters marching to theirconfiscated lands where the separation wall is beingconstructed. The resultant eyeball to eyeballstandoff provided ample opportunity to study theexpressions on the soldiers’ faces as we sang theFaslane regular Stand firm and the American civilrights song We shall overcome, and as the villagersmade speeches seeking to reach across ethnic andreligious differences and appeal to the soldiers’humanity to end the injustice which they areperpetuating. At the end of the demonstration, as

the soldiers dispersed, we echoed this, singing PeaceSalaam Shalom.

Throughout our West Bank tour, a favourite forour hosts to join in with was the Palestinian song ofexile Hadee Ya Bahaar (“Be calm, oh sea, so long hasbeen our absence”). My own favourite was singingHamish Henderson’s Freedom Come All Ye,Scotland’s own anthem against colonialism and forinternational justice.

� Eurig Scandrett is a Green activist and member ofDemocratic Left Scotland.

SKETCHES FROM A SMALL WORLD

The villagersmadespeechesseeking toappeal tothe soldiers’humanity.

SPECIAL PERSPECTIVESOFFERCyclist, journalist and campaigner Lesley Riddoch cycled fromBarra to the Butt for a BBC radio series and wrote Riddoch on theOuter Hebrides about bikes, beaches, gaels, golf, music and wind.

“Riddoch is fast, engaging and funny. The book is a kind ofholiday album… compiled by a fascinated, assertive andintelligent visitor.” Roger Hutchison, West Highland Free Press

“Chatty without being oppressive, informed without beinglecturing, Riddoch’s style nicely brings home the islands’ beautyand the charm of those who live there.” The Herald

Special offer for Perspectives readers £10 inc signature, postand packing (RRP £12.99)

Send name, address, dedication and cheque (payable to Lesley Riddoch) to: Lesley Riddoch(Perspectives Offer), Jamesfield Farmhouse, Newburgh, Fife KY14 6EW. Allow 10 days to arrive.


FRONTIERS:A RE-EVALUATION

“Unity is good but diversity isbetter. Please, leave us in peacewith your superfluous directives.”Hans Magnus Enzensberger,Brussels, the Gentle Monster or,the Disenfranchisement of Europe(2011, p.80)

Frontiers have become awfullyunfashionable. The ideologyof “globalisation” responds

with its sternest frown: historicalrelics, left-overs from the age ofcompeting nationalisms, they havehad their day and should beignored, if not put down. RégisDebray is characteristicallyscathing about all this in his recentpolemic Éloge des Frontières(Gallimard, Paris 2010). In theconcluding chapter of this “Praisefor Frontiers” he points out thatglobaloney has as its fatal culmina-tion what one might call “All-the-Sameism” – to which a properanswer can only be “the right tofrontiers”, or (more strongly) theduty of maintaining them, andwhere necessary creating new

ones. Not “walls” but (as Scots liketo say) borders, gateways to andfrom differing cultures and out-looks.

Without such “rites de passage”,Debray suggests there is now a realrisk of reverting to the reign of theold Roman deity “Terminus”, theone that eternally “presided overboundaries and landmarks”(Oxford English Dictionary). Or asthe poet Ovid put it: “Other folkmay have limited territories, Romeis simply the world ‘as awhole’” (p.82). Debray reproduces“Terminus” opposite his title page,Holbein’s image of a stony fellowgazing disapprovingly over someantique landscape. And his answeris that not only can we get pasthim, away from globality’s newversion of “Rome” – we have aduty to do so. Borders are morethan just a good thing, they’rebecoming obligatory. They mayoriginally have been a means to anend – that is, to industrialisation“on our own terms”. However,that phase is now largely over, andhas been replaced by “globalisa-tion”. The latter brings with it aredefinition of borderlands, nottheir abolition. It could, andDebray suggests it should mean

more of them, not less. And afterall, don’t we see some parts of theUnited Kingdom moving in thatdirection? May it not be that the2014 referendum will provide anopportunity that shouldn’t bemissed, for both the Scots and theEnglish?

The deeper reason at work liesin the deep-laid, multifarious con-nection between borders and iden-tities. “Identity” here isn’tself-sufficiency or narcissism, nordoes it entail foolish or indiscrimi-nate disparagement of others – inthe Scottish case, for the four-fifthsmajority of “Great Britain”. No,what it stands for, today more thanever before, is diversity. Differen -tiation is not aesthetic, or merelyaccidental. Nor is it just turningthe house of many colours intovariety “for its own sake”. It canalso be construed as action forhumanity – i.e. for a universal oftolerable globality that affectseverybody, which at this momentis badly in need of new groundrules. This is where finality reallycounts. It is the overture to differ-ent-ness as splendour: the accumu-lation of human as well as materialwealth – the house of manycolours enriched, not pared down.“One world” is for good, there’sno going back to pre-1989 and theaftermath of Cold War. Norshould we allow the new day to behaunted by a museum-conscious-ness – for example, by the persist-ence of show-case nationalismslike “Great Britain” that may haveoutlived their original usefulness.

Globalisationbrings withit aredefinitionofborderlands,not theirabolition.

Tom Nairn revisits a concept thatmay not be in fashion but has muchto offer in the age of globalisation.


Arguments about the UnitedKingdom usually turn upon theadvantages of remaining inside theshow-case: Don’t the Scots, Welshand Northern Irish “count formore” as part of something estab-lished and relatively big, in the UNSecurity Council and elsewhere?Regrettably but unavoidably, theanswer is “no”: what it implies issticking with relative decline –dependency on a has-been stillclinging to pathetic excuses likethe Special Relationship or theCommonwealth, the ancient robesof Winston Churchill’s time andthe early Cold War. London’s 21stcentury moral has become: betterthe gargoyle we know than theuncertainties of globality, and of astill emerging European Union.2014’s Scottish vote, by contrast,ought to be about climbing out ofthe old showcase, albeit at the costof some broken glass and tidying-up.

BREAK UP OR BREAK OUT?Not that this damage shouldamount to much. One survey afteranother has revealed majorityEnglish indifference to theprospect, and sometimes positiveapproval for Scottish independ-ence. What Éloge suggests is thatthis may be more universally true.As Robert Frost put it in the poemMending Wall, what’s required is“to set the wall between us onceagain … (because) … Good fencesmake good neighbours” – a pointmade often enough in Scotlandand Wales. Cultural souls are theissue, not lines on a map. Frontierscreate and maintain borderlands,areas of contrast, ambiguity andchoice – of fertility, rather thanmere hostility. Around a quarter ofthe EU’s populations are located insuch zones, rather than in the self-appointed “heartlands” that figurein most geopolitical decisions.TheScots (for instance) do know some-thing about this: Walter Scott andHugh Macdiarmid were border-ers, not heartlanders. And thesame point is put more generally inDebray’s essay: cultures are like anuclear fusion-process, not mereaccidents of geography or person-

ality. They depend upon conflictsunsustainable without borders,existential encounters and a degreeof stressful contrast.

The most critical case here isprobably England. All historicalanalyses of modern nation-stateformation (like Gellner’s Nationsand Nationalism, or Greenfeld’sNationalism) indicate English pri-ority in the original wider process.A combination of insularity,resources and competititon turnedit into the prime mover: the lattermight have been Japan, Indonesiaor somewhere in the Americas, butit happened to be this part of theNorth Atlantic, the Dutch andEnglish fringe-lands. And ofcourse once launched, the effectwas permanent. However, thelaunch-pads themselves were con-demned to an odd fate: they could-n’t be just parts of the ongoingprocess, nationality-structurescomme les autres. Instead, an out-going imperialism imposed itself –in different ways upon the Dutch,the Spanish, the Portuguese andthe French, as well as (more con-clusively) upon the English. Therivalries of early-modern “Europe”were exported as both religiousand secular inflictions upon othercontinents. Then later comers likeItaly, Russia, Germany, Americaand China followed, until globalconflicts finally generated theuneven and still sometimes war-like terrain of “globalisation”.

Frontiers have been the joints orturning-points in the process, bothcarrying it forward and imposingmodifications. So the inheritedvariousness of a species has been atonce reproduced and qualified inthis way. “Species-being” (the oldHegelian and Marxist term) is – asDebray underlines once more –constantly re-invented via a strug-gle between common and uncom-mon modes of reproduction.Globalisation isn’t the end of thestruggle: in some ways, it mayactually be intensified. On noaccount should all-the-sameismprevail. On the more extensive,expanding common ground of ademocratic globe, the rainbow willbe greater, and brighter.

LATECOMERS OR PIONEERS?The Scots, the Welsh and theNorthern-Irish are contributingto this shift: not contracting outof history but getting theirrenewed claims in. Sometimestheir efforts have been charac-terised as “belated”: populationsthat missed out on the main waveof nation-formation during the19th and twentieth centuries, andnow have to “catch up”. They arecertainly peoples who couldn’thelp becoming “peripheral” inthe original disposition of moder-nity, given England’s four-fifthsarchipelago majority throughoutthe industrial revolution and itsout-going issue. Priority engen-dered empire, over-extension anda curious sense of distinction: not“racial” (or only briefly, and half-heartedly) but surely not like therest, those who adopted, fol-lowed on, and fought for theirown way forward. The new ambi-tions of that struggle gave rise tohigher-pressure cohesion and“identities” expressing it: thenecessity for a climate of “nation-alism”.

This environment favouredunits of a scale intermediatebetween ancient, sprawlingempires and city-states. However,such conditions did favour soci-eties capable of fostering effectivemarket conditions: and only rea-sonably big entities could hope todo this, hence the incumbent“nation-states” evolved higher-pressure demands and constraintstoward that end. Europe adoptedthe industrial model pioneered byits western archipelago, and theideology appropriate was ofcourse nationalism, a force-fieldable to over-ride older provinces,and inherited or residual cultures.Since society (“civil society”) wasmobilised, a degree of participa-tion or inclusion was required – or,where necessary, enforced. Inmany cases external expansionhelped this process, both to secureresources and to establish thestatus and power of the guidingstate-forms. Competitive imperial-ism was one consequence, andendured from the later 18th centu-

Frontierscreate andmaintainborderlands,areas ofcontrast,ambiguityand choice –of fertility,rather thanmerehostility.

FRONTIERS: A RE-EVALUATION


ry until the end of the Cold Warafter 1989.

In the successor period, industri-alisation has given way to “globali-sation”, manifested through whatthe Economist has described as “AThird Industrial Revolution”(April 21st 2012). The world hasnot been comprehensively indus-trialised during the first andsecond phases of the Revolution;however, it has been changed suffi-ciently to alter many of the olderconditions, including those affect-ing the scale of nationality politics.And of course, “industrialisation”has been in a sense completed,with the contemporary develop-ment of the globe’s largest nation,China. Digital manufacturing “willallow things to be made economi-cally in much smaller numbers …(and) … The wheel is turning awayfrom mass manufacturing andtowards more individualised pro-duction. And that in turn couldbring some of the jobs back to richcountries that long ago lost themto the emerging world (“SpecialReport”, p.4). Will it not alsofoster what one might call “lowerpressure” societal cohesion: aforce-field less driven by survivaldemands, and life-or-death choic-es? Everyone recognises thatnationality politics are here forgood: “identities” as an indispen-sable component of adaptationand farther development. But fewnow perceive them as questions ofbasic existence. What counts is thenon-basic, more conscious andadvanced common ground which(still) “metaphorical kinship”alone makes possible. In attempt-ing to establish it now, may theone-time “periphery” not be seek-ing a more contemporary national-ism-equivalent, rather than justcatching up with the old forms?

AMICABLE SEPARATION?Scotland, Wales and NorthernIreland are not attempting old-style nation-statehood: they are(and indeed, can’t help being) insearch of a new mode of distinctivedevelopment – post-globalisationself-rule, liberated from the con-tortions of imperialism and war-

fare, and adapted to circumstancesin which the scale of statehood isno longer so important.Nationalism is therefore less“weak” than in Gellner’s classicaldiagnosis, and more likely toexpand both its numbers and itspolitical appeal. A greater numberof ethno-linguistic and culturalgroups will move towards separatedevelopment, and help to establisha new kind of Internationale.

But amicable separation stillrequires frontiers, demarcationand formal signals of identifica-tion. Globality will have to workout new modes of separatenessand distinction: the strengtheningof variety by means other thanwarfare and militarised “nationalliberation”. Anti-metropolitanismdemands greater ingenuity andeffort, and political independenceremains a necessary part of this.No apology or modest cough iscalled for here: Scots need to move“backwards” (resuming nation-hood) in order to move forward,not for the sake of auld lang synebut in order to contribute to afuture that will include the re-making of “Great Britain”, as somesort of confederation or associa-tion. Reculer pour mieux sauter isthe familiar French motto here:sometimes one has to step back-wards, in order to achieve a moreimpressive leap forward – in thiscase, resuming the older version ofnationalism (industrialisationnationhood) in order to build up amore contemporary, forward-looking form of nationality-poli-tics, more consistent with theconditions of globality. The lattershould not be seen as “preserving”the varieties of modernity, but asaugmenting them – making waysfor the large number of enduringethno-linguistic and cultural socialorders to proliferate, and thusenrich the “universal”, or commonground of humanity. “Transcen -dence” may be the right word: butthis can only flourish as long asthere are particular, variegatedrealities of human kind to look andact “outwards”, to locate andrebuild a “general interest” itself incontinuing alteration. Religions

may pretend unchangeability, insome final, god-given sense; secu-larity suggests that, on the con-trary, universality itself mustalways be “under construction”,and only partially handed down byinheritance and traditions.

Getting on with the job, the newtask re-defined by globalisation:isn’t this what the 2014 referen-dum will come to mean? Scotlandshould be keeping up with thetimes, not clinging to the life-raft.Passing through Rome airport twoweeks ago I picked up presidentGiorgio Napolitano’s latestpolemic, prominently displayed onthe book-stall: Una e Indivisibile:Riflessioni sui 150 anni dellanostra Italia (Rizzoli, November2011). Napolitano is dreadfullyworried that Italians may notremain “One and United” invoting his country on towards thenew, more centralised Europe.Stick together at all costs, is hismessage, no more of that back-sliding into Sicilian or Lega-Nordseparatism. High-pressure union-ism must be stepped up, makingthe salvation of Italian union andall-European fusion into acommon cause. We’re alreadyhearing the same message in theUK, though not yet quite as elo-quently and passionately. Thefour-fifths English majority needsan unchallenged “Britain” to go onbeing its vehicle at the Europeanand international level: behaveyourselves out there in Wales andScotland! The alternative wouldappear to be “Scotland inEurope”: leaving the raft and(after the lessons learned atHolyrood) finally deciding toswim on our own. Isn’t that whatthe new frontiers should be for?

� Tom Nairn is a HonoraryResearch Fellow in the School ofGovernment and InternationalAffairs at Durham University andwell-known for his writings onnationalism. A new edition of TheEnchanted Glass: Britain and ItsMonarchy, his ground-breakingstudy of British statehood, identityand culture, was published inNovember by Verso.

Scots need tomove“backwards”(resumingnationhood)in order tomoveforward.

People and politicsIn Scotland, as in the rest of Britain, there is widespread disillusionment with politics.The mainstream parties have lost touch with ordinary people and issues are trivialisedand distorted by the media.

We are continually told that “there is no alternative” to global capitalism. Yet this isdoing untold damage to our environment, our communities and the quality of ourlives, while millions of people remain poor and powerless because the marketdominates our society and we do too little to protect and empower them.

Democratic Left Scotland is a non-party political organisation that works forprogressive social change through activity in civil society – in community groups,social movements and single-issue campaigns – seeking at all times to promotediscussion and alliances across the lines of party, position and identity.

Political parties remain important, but they need to reconnect with the citizens theyclaim to represent, reject the copycat politics that stifles genuine debate and recognise

that no single group or standpoint holds all the answers tothe problems facing our society.

We are trying to develop a new kind of politics, one thatstarts from popular activity – in workplaces, localities andvoluntary associations – and builds bridges to the world ofparties and government, on the one hand, and the worldof ideas and culture, on the other.

What does Democratic Left add?Our approach to politics is radical, feminist and green.

Radical because we are concerned with the underlying,structural causes of problems such as poverty, inequality,violence and pollution and aspire towards an inclusive,more equal society in which everyone is supported andencouraged to play a full part, within a more just andsustainable world.

Feminist because we seek to abolish the unequaldivision of wealth, work and power between men andwomen and to promote a better understanding of theintimate connections between personal life and politics.

Green because we believe that our present system ofeconomic organisation is socially and environmentallydestructive, and that a more balanced relationshipbetween human activity and nature will be better for us,for our descendants and for the other animal species withwhom we share the planet.

Who can join Democratic LeftScotland?Membership is open to anyone who shares our generaloutlook and commitments. Whilst many of our membersare involved in a range of political parties, others are not.

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SCOTLAND’SREFERENDUM:THE CASE FOR TWO VOTES

Should the referendum onScottish independence includea question on devo max –

maximum devolution short ofindependence? Of all the issuesraised in the debate about the ref-erendum process this is the mostcontentious. Anxious to observeconstitutional proprieties and toforestall any legal challenge, theScottish government has acceptedthe UK government’s proposal tolend it the authority to hold abinding referendum under Section31 of the 1998 Scotland Act.Arrangements for supervision andlimits on campaign spending areagreed, and while negotiationsover the timetable and franchisecontinue, neither issue looks like adeal-breaker. The unionist partiesstill say they would prefer an earlyreferendum, but will not resist theSNP’s plan to stage the vote in theautumn of 2014. Similarly, whilethe SNP would like to extend thefranchise to 16 and 17 year-olds,the “independence generation”, inthe end it will probably give way.

STICKING POINTDevo max, however, remains asticking point. In principle, theWestminster government couldrefuse to authorise a referendumunless the question is confined to astraight choice between independ-ence and the status quo. Yet as theScottish government points out inits consultation paper, “there issupport across Scotland – fromindividuals and organisations – forincreased responsibilities for theScottish parliament short of inde-

pendence”. True, devo max hasnot so far won the backing of anypolitical party, but on currentpolling evidence it appears to bewhat most Scottish voters want. Itmay even be what Alex Salmondsecretly wants, but for party man-agement and face-saving reasonsdare not say so. In these circum-stances, to restrict the choice toindependence or the status quowould force the majority of voterseither to abstain or to vote tactical-ly against the option they dislikeleast, a bizarre outcome from ademocratic standpoint.

THREE-WAY CHOICEThere is, of course, a problemabout how to frame a three-waychoice. If voters are obliged tochoose only one of the threeoptions, it is entirely possible thatnone will gain a majority, in whichcase the status quo would prevailby default. If voters are invited torank the options 1, 2, 3 – thoughwith no obligation to use all theirpreferences – devo max is likely towin by virtue of picking up thesecond preferences of pragmatistsin both the nationalist and unionistcamps. If, however, two questionsappear on the ballot paper – oneposing independence against thestatus quo, the other posing devomax against the status quo – bothdevo max and independence couldwin majorities, albeit by differentmargins, in which case the out-come would be unclear.

The solution to this problem isto hold a two-question referendumin which the first question acts as a

gateway to the second. Voterswould first be asked whether theywished to maintain Scotland’spresent system of devolved gov-ernment. If a majority voted no,then the second question wouldcome into play, offering a straightchoice between independence anddevo max. Except in the unlikelyevent of a dead heat, this proce-dure ensures a clear, unambiguousresult. Unionists could vote for thepresent system, but if the vote goesagainst them, would still be able toexpress a preference as betweenthe two options for change. A vari-ant is a two-stage referendum,with the gateway question beingput, say, a month before thesecond vote, which would be trig-gered only if a majority voted forchange. Two successive referendawould, of course, cost twice asmuch to stage as a single referen-dum with two questions, but theextra expense might be justified ifsome people preferred to knowthe outcome of the first votebefore making up their mindsabout the second. Both variantsgive unionists ample opportunityto argue their case, without placingdevo max off limits. And bothobviate the risk of leavingScotland’s constitutional future inlimbo, though whatever the out-come, public debate and inter-gov-ernmental negotiation are boundto continue over detailed institu-tional arrangements, for a referen-dum is a blunt instrument, whichcan only ever settle matters ofbroad principle or direction.

CHOOSE AND NEGOTIATEIt is sometimes claimed that devomax is subject to various interpre-tations, whereas everyone knowsmore or less what is meant by inde-pendence and the status quo. Thissuggestion is quite unfounded.Devo max may be more unfamiliarthan the other two options, but atthe level of general principle, itsdefinition is neither complex nordisputed. The Scottish parliamentwould control taxation, publicspending and borrowing, whileWestminster retained control overdefence and foreign policy, curren-

While a straight Yes/No question might be moststraightforward in the independencereferendum, polling reveals most Scots mightprefer devo max. David Purdy makes the casefor a three-way choice when the vote comes.

The solutionto is to hold atwo-questionreferendumin which thefirst questionacts as agateway tothe second.


cy, monetary policy and financialregulation. Can such a system beclearly distinguished from theother two options? Certainly. Areits implications any more uncer-tain than theirs? Hardly.

Whatever its merits and de-merits, devo max evidently offers agreater degree of fiscal autonomythan either the proposals of theCalman commission embodied inthe Scotland Act 2012 or the mis-cellaneous transfers of fiscalpowers currently trading under thename of “devolution plus”. At thesame time, devo max differs fromthe version of independence cur-rently advocated by the SNP inthat defence and foreign policywould continue be decided atWestminster. Scotland would,therefore, still need to be repre-sented in the UK parliament,though the basis of representationwould have to change.

RUNNING SOREThere is, inevitably, a trade-offbetween the scope of devolutionand the numbers and powers ofScottish MPs. Even under currentarrangements, the West Lothianquestion constitutes a runningsore, which causes resentmentsouth of the border. A remedy willhave to be found sooner or later,presumably by removing the rightof Scottish MPs to speak and voteon questions deemed by theSpeaker to concern England only.At the other extreme, independ-ence implies that Scotland ceasesto be represented at Westminster,necessitating a review of arrange-ments for Wales and NorthernIreland. Under devo max, eitherScotland would retain a smallnumber of directly elected ScottishMPs whose remit would be con-fined to reserved issues or, moreplausibly, the Scottish parliamentwould be empowered to send dep-utations of MSPs, chosen in pro-portions reflecting the strength ofthe parties at Holyrood, to partici-pate in the relevant debates andcommittees at Westminster. Thus,all three options have repercus-sions for the UK as a whole: noneis the exclusive concern of

Scotland alone. In that sense andfor that reason, whatever the out-come of Scotland’s referendum,the relationships among the con-stituent nations of the UK willhave to be renegotiated and theirrepresentative institutions recon-figured. This was already true in1997 when the decision was takento re-establish the Scottish parlia-ment. It is just more obvious today.

FISCAL AUTONOMY CONSTRAINEDThe need for ongoing inter-governmental negotiation is notconfined to constitutional arrange-ments, but extends to substantiveissues of policy. A notable case inpoint is fiscal policy. Given the tra-vails of the eurozone and the perilsof currency separatism at a time ofglobal financial turbulence, theSNP is reconciled to sticking withsterling for the foreseeable future.In this respect, there is no differ-ence between independence anddevo max: in neither case wouldScotland be free to pursue its ownmonetary policy. And the implica-tions do not stop there, for as wehave learned from the sovereigndebt crisis in the eurozone, mem-bership of a monetary unionentails agreeing and abiding byrules governing budget deficits andpublic debt. The Scottish govern-ment might have its own views asto what the rules should be andhow they should be enforced, buteven if its voice carried weightwith the Treasury in London, itsfiscal autonomy would be con-strained. Explicit formal con-straints might bite no harder thanthe impersonal financial disciplineof the bond markets. Indeed,Scotland would almost certainlyenjoy lower interest rates andeasier credit under such a regimethan it would if it had its own cur-rency and central bank. The pointis simply that a small countrycohabiting with a large and power-ful neighbour has limited room forfiscal manoeuvre. To take a recentexample, the staged cuts in the rateof corporation tax announced byGeorge Osborne over the past twoyears, taking it from 28 per cent in2010 to 22 per cent in 2014, have

already narrowed the scope forluring capital to Scotland byundercutting the rates at whichprofits are taxed elsewhere.

Scotland does, however, holdone major bargaining chip in theshape of the Trident submarinebase at Faslane. The SNP has longbeen committed to closing downthe base and the cost of adaptingpotential alternative harbours inEngland or Wales would be pro-hibitive at a time when the UKdefence budget is under pressure,not to mention the risks of sitingnuclear weapons in populous sea-ports such as Plymouth, Falmouthand Milford Haven. Closurewould thus be tantamount togiving up nuclear weapons, deflat-ing the UK’s pretensions as a worldpower and leaving France as theEU’s only nuclear-armed state. Inthe negotiations that would followScotland’s referendum, theScottish government could offer toexchange flexibility on defencepolicy for concessions in otherareas. The potency of this strategywould be greater if Scotland votedfor independence, but even underdevo max the future of the Tridentfleet would be a live issue, since adecision on replacement needs tobe made soon after the next UKgeneral election.

Scotland’s self-determining jour-ney is a process, not an event. Itbegan years ago and is unlikely toterminate any time soon. At thecoming referendum, what isrequired is a decision in principleamong the three main options thathave gained significant supportamong the Scottish people (i.e.everyone who lives in Scotland):independence, devo max and themaintenance of the Union in moreor less its present form. Once weknow where we are going, the restis matter of navigating and negoti-ating.

� David Purdy writes regularly forPerspectives. An abbreviated ver-sion of this paper formedDemocratic Left Scotland’s sub-mission to the Scottish govern-ment’s consultation on theindependence referendum.

SCOTLAND’S REFERENDUM: THE CASE FOR TWO VOTES

Membershipof amonetaryunion entailsagreeing andabiding byrulesgoverningbudgetdeficits andpublic debt.

RIDDOCH’SSCOTLAND

EDINBURGH:THE MOST BRITISHCITY

Edinburgh – “Athens of the North”. The sobriquetis un-Scottishly boastful. It’s appropriate – ongrounds of architectural heritage and stunning

location. It’s uncomfortably topical – on grounds ofrecent banking collapse. But it’s also wrong – ongrounds of authenticity.

Athens is itself. There can be no northern version ofa city that developed two millennia, two oceans, onecontinental landmass and a sunny climate away.Indeed why would a city with the rich indigenous her-itage of Edinburgh seek to emulate another anyway?The answer to that uncovers a small but importanttruth about the Scottish capital. Edinburgh’s NewTown is the embodiment of Britain.

After Culloden the need to expand beyond theovercrowded Old Town combined with a desire toappeal to the triumphant Hanoverians. So in 1767James Craig devised a New Town plan to reflect theruling elite’s love of classical antiquity – and streetnames to reflect their naked power.

George Street – the largest and most prestigiousthoroughfare – was named after King George III.

Queen Street was named after hiswife. Princes Street, originallyplanned as “St Giles Street”, was

named after his sons,Hanover Streetafter his family andFrederick Street

after his dad. StAndrew’s and St

George’s Square (laterCharlotte Square) werenamed after the patronsaints of

the two recently unified nations while Thistle Streetand Rose Street represented their national emblems.

Welcome to Edinburgh – the most British city whichhouses the most anti-British parliament. For the nextthree years at least.

If Glasgow re-enacts the struggle for Irish inde-pendence with every Old Firm game, Edinburgh revis-its the failure of the Jacobite challenge at every centralstreet corner.

Auld Reekie is a heady mix and – like Athens – con-ceals as much as it reveals.

Take Holyrood.Edinburgh’s controversial parliament building

incorporates Queensberry House whose most famousresident was James Douglas, 2nd Duke ofQueensberry. In 1707 when the Duke signed awayScotland’s independence in the Treaty of Union, riotsallowed his violently insane son to escape the room inwhich he was normally locked and roast a servant boyalive on a spit in the kitchen. The Earl of Drumlanrighad started to eat the boy before he was discoveredand caught. No charges were brought, and “TheCannibalistic Idiot” was whisked across the border toEngland. Astonishingly, the oven used can still be seenin the parliamentary allowances office. QueensberryHouse was then deployed variously as a hospital, bar-racks and refuge for “the reception and treatment offemale inebriates” until S&N Breweries bought thebuilding in 1996 and the parliament bought the entiresite a few years later.

One contractor told me that behind the plaster,Queensberry House was a surprisingly poor building– assorted rubble rather than dressed stone.Arguments about building quality are as endless and

subjective as arguments about the aes-

Edinburgh –the mostBritish citywhich housesthe mostanti-Britishparliament.For the nextthree yearsat least.


Lesley Riddoch dissects Edinburgh, capital of Scotland whilethe city’s New Town is the embodiment of Britain.


thetics of upturned boats and wooden slated monkscells.

But one thing’s for sure. The decision to retain thisList A “historic” building within Miralles’s new parlia-ment contributed to the complexity, delay and massivebill which together nearly destroyed the early author-ity of Scotland’s new parliament. The Duke ofQueensberry might have been rather pleased … andsurprised.

All that effort to preserve a building made specialonly by the appalling barbarity of his murderous son.In the old days nobles and barons had the power tostifle dissent. Nowadays an “A” listing does the samejob quite nicely. In Edinburgh “heritage” is King. Andits subjects dare not ask whose heritage we are pre-serving.

Administrators of the newly refurbished ScottishPortrait Gallery axed the large and popular 20th

century gallery and replaced it with “a mishmash ofcolour photos of celebs such as Susan Boyle and DavidTennant” – as a Telegraph critic put it. As a result por-traits and “heids” of pivotal cultural figures from therecent past are missing or half-heartedly explored.Sorley MacLean, Hamish Henderson, HughMacDiarmid, Norman McCaig – our children arefinally being exposed to their work but their still-familiar faces captured on canvas and in stone are inthe gallery basement, awaiting their turn in the rota-tion imposed by the new lack of space. Why? “Thatwas our decision.”

Almost all of Scotland’s arts and cultural quangosare located here – Historic Scotland, CreativeScotland, VisitScotland, the National Galleries,National Library and National Museum. Almost allhave been run for decades by an unusually high pro-portion of English people given their distribution inthe general population. Some came specifically for thejob – some had already been to Edinburgh or StAndrews University and decided to stay. The resultthough is broadly similar. Scotland’s most importantcultural institutions are often run by people from anon-Scottish cultural background. And that doesmatter.

Sympathetic incomers in any organisation are notonly desirable – they’re essential.

But large numbers of confident, assertive outsiderscan easily overwhelm the thin, hesitant underlay ofnative thought, tongue and outlook. I remember oncesitting in the middle of an argument between twothespian friends about the staging of a play. MyEnglish friend thought a “spirit” from Celtic mytholo-gy should appear like a fairy. My Scottish friendthought she should look like a shape-shifting oldwoman. Mercifully Scotland manages to contain andsynthesise many outlooks.

Neither “Britishness” nor Central Belt dominated“Scottishness” have erased our Norse and Celtic her-itage or their distinctive aspects of folk memory andold ways. Scotland is a mongrel nation – just. But

Edinburgh’s establishment has always preferred pedi-gree breeds.

And yet the issue of southern cultural dominationcan hardly be discussed publicly in Scotland withoutprompting accusations of racism, reverse snobbery orutter irrelevance. After all, Scotland’s domestic life isnow run entirely by an SNP government. Whaur’syour London control noo then?

Clearly the Edinburgh-based government is led byScottish Nationalists, but the Edinburgh-based

Establishment is not. That establishment still“curates” important parts of Scottish culture. And it isbeing allowed to do so – perhaps the SNP want to con-fine capital city skirmishes to the large battle ahead in2014.

So Edinburgh contains contrast – as any good capi-tal city should. It also contains a contest. Holyroodsits astride a cultural fault-line as real as the geologicalrift that produced Arthur’s Seat and the Castle Rock.Just as the gathering place of the world’s oldest parlia-ment sits astride the clash of tectonic plates atThingvellir on Iceland, so 900 miles further south, theworld’s newest parliament straddles the place whereimperial Britain and modern Scotland meet, some-times mingle and sometimes hardly touch.

The result is a physically awe-inspiring city thatsometimes feels like it belongs to someone else.

In one direction lies elegant, classic BritishEdinburgh – in the other medieval Edinburgh withnarrow Canongate wynds, Cowgate hostellries andthe irregular, cobbled High Street and Royal Mile.

In certain private clubs members of theEstablishment are gathered, a few streets away theirsternest critics sit counterpoised.

Clumped within half a mile of around St Gilescathedral sit the law courts, the university, Church ofScotland and Bank of Scotland HQs, the cityChambers and the army stationed in Edinburgh castle.Yet here too, Robbie Burns once lived, and his radicaldescendants once drank further down the hill atMilne’s Bar, the Abbotsford and Café Royal.

Here the stuffy New Club barred membership andeven access to women for more than a century – whilethe liberalising influence of the Festival ushered in thelatest pub opening hours and most relaxed dress codesof almost anywhere in Britain.

Old Town and New Town, medieval and Georgian,formal and informal, Kidnapped and

Trainspotting, opera and step-dancing, the Usher Halland Sandy Bell’s, Morningside and Leith, royalists andrepublicans, Burke and Hare and Jekyll and Hyde –every conceivable division in Scottish society is playedout in Edinburgh. Quietly.

When I worked at the BBC in Queen Street in the1980s, drinking took up a fair proportion of evenings.Producers drank Chardonnay in the upstairs andupmarket Edinburgh Wine Bar perched on thespindliest of wooden chairs. The audio crew, secretar-

EDINBURGH: THE MOST BRITISH CITY

Largenumbers ofconfident,assertiveoutsiders caneasilyoverwhelmthe thin,hesitantunderlay ofnativethought,tongue andoutlook.

ial, security, admin staff and Scottish reporters drankbeer and gin on the velour-covered, slightly lager-sodden sofas of the Beau Brummel pub opposite. Thetwain rarely met socially.

In the 1990s, I came back to Edinburgh to work asassistant editor of the Scotsman in the old NorthBridge building and discovered social segregation inEdinburgh extended to the workplace too. Chargedby editor Andrew Jaspan with modernising the paper,I spent an unsuccessful six months trying to persuadeHuman Resources to let staff use the splendid NorthBridge doors instead of the grotty tradesmen’sentrance in the close that ran behind. But hierarchywas in with the bricks – literally. Like many offices inOld Town Edinburgh, the Scotsman building was highand thin so departments of the paper were floorsapart. Completely inter-dependent staff rarely met. Asthe energetic and disruptive Andrew Jaspan put it, “Iopened a cupboard and there was a whole departmentinside.” No wonder the Scotsman opted for open planin its new Holyrood Road site.

And there’s the paradox. Edinburgh is both stultify-ingly smug and socially innovative.

A few miles from Edinburgh University – which tillrecently had no signs to help strangers find publicvenues like the Signet Library or Playfair Room – sitsa still elegant three floor town house occupied byPloughshare Vegetarian Income Sharing Co-operative.

25 years ago – while working for the BBC – I wasliving there amongst the clutter of large mixing bowlswith endlessly soaking beans, plant gel toothpaste,recycled and undyed toilet paper, space saving plat-form beds and communal bean-focused eveningmeals. With seven inhabitants everyone cooked once aweek, shopped once a month and paid £1 to becomepart owners of the large three storey house.Thereafter about a quarter of each person’s incomewas paid towards the mortgage – different amountsbut the same proportion, which seemed quite fair.

Ploughshare created a secure environment for(mostly young) people who didn’t fancy the expen-

sive and lonely options of buying a flat or renting abedsit. Co-op turnover was low, rooms were sacro-sanct and shared space plentiful. It was only whenBBC News relocated to Glasgow that I realised howunusual our rational little Edinburgh housing co-oper-ative had been. The bulk of residents attracted tounconventional, bohemian living arrangements in mytime were English to a man and woman. I was asScottish as it got – and even I was born inWolverhampton and had just returned from years atOxford University and BBC training in London.

In that respect, the contrast with Glasgow couldhardly be greater. When I moved into Ploughshare in1985, three quarters of Strathclyde University stu-dents were so local they lived at home. 60% of stu-dents at Edinburgh University were English.

What of it? Well that helps to make Edinburgh aculturally contested city – though next to no-one

looks at it that way. Contested by the different ethnic-ity, class and cultural background of its most educatedand (thus) most influential inhabitants.

Labour’s First Minister the late Donald Dewar hada profound fear of stirring this hornet’s nest by build-ing a Scottish parliament that might rival theBritishness of New Town Edinburgh.

The (very) well-rehearsed argument about the loca-tion of the Scottish parliament suggests he rejectedCalton Hill as a possible site because it was a “nation-alist shibboleth.”

What did that ever mean? Almost every building onEdinburgh’s elegant Calton Hill dates from the

Enlightenment – when Scottish luminaries rejoiced inthe description “North British.” Greek architecturalreferences abound – the National Monument is basedon the Acropolis and the Royal High School has Doriccolumns based on the Temple of Theseus. Why wouldthe choice of such a location tilt a nation inevitablytowards introversion and petty nationalism? WaterlooPlace, Royal Terrace and Regent Road – the un-revo-lutionary character of the wide, elegant streets flank-ing Calton Hill is self evident.

The Royal High School itself was converted by JimCallaghan’s Labour government at the cost of severalmillions to accommodate a Scottish Assembly debat-ing chamber after Scotland’s first devolution referen-dum in 1979. A nationalist shibboleth? Hardly.

Perhaps it was actually Calton Hill’s suitability as aparliament location that bothered Donald Dewar.According to the civil servants, a parliament therewould have created, “a magnificent historic setting inan accessible city centre location: highly visible, adja-cent to the Scottish Office, approachable through acivic space comparable with other European capitals,and without causing any major traffic problems.”

“Comparable with other European capitals.”Without realising it, this advocate probably sealedCalton Hill’s fate. Labour’s devolved Scottish parlia-ment was not to be compared with other Europeancapitals. It was to be a workaday place – a big councilnot a small parliament. Devolution could have createda fabulous British building on a hill studded withBritish architectural gems. But instead a parliamentwas built in a low-lying shoebox of a space (or ratherthe constrained footprint of a disused brewery).

In case it offered an emotional rallying point forScots, a good site for a new Scottish parliament wasnot seriously considered.

This speaks volumes about Labour’s early lack ofconfidence in devolution. It speaks volumes too aboutthe territorial minefield that is Edinburgh.

Long before London’s movers and shakers slotted theEdinburgh Festival into their annual itineraries, the

Scottish capital was admired by voices of authority.“The antique grandeur of the Old Town and the

subdued cold, classical beauty of the New Town ofEdinburgh constitute an aspect so striking and pictur-


Labour’sFirst Ministerthe lateDonaldDewar had aprofoundfear ofstirring thishornet’s nestby building aScottishparliamentthat mightrival theBritishness ofNew TownEdinburgh.


esque that we have nothing to compare it with”observed the London Builder magazine in 1861.“Whoever have (sic) once seen Edinburgh with itscouchant crag-lion will see it again in their dreams”said Charlotte Bronte. The crouching stone sphinxwas the natural phenomenon of Arthur’s Seat. But, asClaude Levi Strauss testified, the man-made ten-storeytenements of the “Old Town” were a fabulous foil forthe city’s breath-taking stone centrepiece. “The city isboth natural object and a thing to be cultivated; indi-vidual and group; something lived and somethingdreamed; it is the human invention par excellence.”

In fact, the father of modern anthropology recog-nised an aesthetic created by the humble tenement – thebuilding block of all that is distinctive about the lookand feel of central Edinburgh (and urban Scotland) …and perhaps the social saviour of Edinburgh.

The history of Edinburgh’s Old Town tenementshas been grim.

In Edinburgh, in 1871 one family in ten lived in oneroom 14 by 11 feet in size – with a lodger. At the out-break of World War One, almost half the Scottish pop-ulation still lived in “houses” of one or two rooms.

In its same adulatory 1861 article, the LondonBuilder went on to say;

“We devoutly believe there are no smells in Europeor Asia which can equal in depth and intensity, theconcentration and power, the diabolical combinationof sulphurated hydrogen we came upon one eveningin a place called Toddrick’s Wynd.” These dreadfulconditions were tolerated by councils led by educatedScottish men who were mostly also slum landlords.

According to Brian Elliott and David McCrone,95% of the Lord Provost’s Committee, 87% of the

Treasurer’s Committee and 86% of the Plans andWorks Committee in 1875 Edinburgh were landlords.

Well, someone had to house workers, didn’t they?Scotland’s urban population was rocketing. The Scots,unlike the English, had no 19th century poor law tohelp workers during spells of unemployment. Andthere was an added incentive for Scots to stack tene-ments high and fill them to overflowing. Feudallandowners in Scotland demanded an annual paymentin perpetuity for the right to lease land – so the higherthe building, the greater the number of rental pay-ments and the healthier the profits. Greed shapedEdinburgh and prompted misery, ill health, epidemicsand chronic overcrowding.

In Edinburgh, the public outcry that followed thecollapse, in 1861, of the Heave Awa’ House (killing35 people) finally prompted legislative change. Ayoung boy, Joseph McIvor was the only survivor. Hisrescuers heard him shout from the rubble; “HeaveAwa Lads I’m no deid (dead) yet”.

In honour of his miraculous escape, the new build-ing was called “The Heave Awa Hoose”, and stillbears an ornate lintel with a caption “Heave AwaChaps, I’m No Deid Yet!” (Chaps not Lads so Englishtourists could understand it.)

But this tragedy wasn’t a terminal judgement on themerits of tenements – by the 1800s the oldest 8–10storey stone buildings were already 300 years old andbeing occupied by 5–10 times more people than origi-nally intended. The Improvement Act of 1867 meantScots didn’t throw the baby out with the bathwater.The legislation let the council tear down dangerouslooking tenements … and the best survived.

It’s this housing tradition which has endured tobecome Edinburgh’s salvation. Inner city popula-

tions are still mixed, still sharing space to keep the cityrelatively compact, transport easier and civic func-tions relatively close.

Those tenements may also have helped inspire theNew Town’s layout.

On face value the elegant Georgian terraced houseslook nothing like the tenemental Old Town.

Charles McKean, Professor of Scottish Architectureat Dundee University, thinks otherwise.

“In centuries past, each floor of a High Street tene-ment housed a different strand of Scottish society withshops on the ground floor, the poorest traders justabove and in the attic rafters and the gentry inbetween – just like the Ancient Romans and Egyptians.And even though they had little social connection,they were all forced to rub shoulders every day onthose narrow stairs in the communal closes. Now con-ceive the New Town as a tenement on its back, witheach class occupying a different (parallel) street ratherthan a different floor.”

That is entirely conceivable – Princes Street is the“ground floor” with shops and commercial activity –the “attic” is the workers colony flats beside the Waterof Leith – and the gentry do indeed occupy all thestreets in between.

Edinburgh’s tenements are the glue binding togeth-er a profoundly divided city. And yet, the role of thishumble housing type has largely been overlooked inthe story of the capital – and urban Scotland.

Without density-creating tenements, without thevisual and social mixter-maxter their medieval originsprovide, without this heavy masonry chunk ofScottish heritage, Edinburgh would be a cold, unlovedand un-loveable place.

But it is not. Spoken for in the summer festivals andat Hogmanay it is ours again through the long winter.Ours in the snell wind. Ours in each quick stolenglance down the wynds towards the Firth – radiantblue or scudding grey. Ours at bus stops beneath out-crops of volcanic rock. Ours looking upwards at thesharp, whin-covered ridges of Arthur’s Seat and theCrags – our spiritual mountain home.

Edinburgh – not just the Athens of Britain’s FrozenNorth but also the Miracle of Scotland’s Fertile South.

The Capital. Our home.

� Lesley Riddoch is a broadcaster and writer. The con-cluding part of her six-part series on Scotland willappear in the next issue of Perspectives.

EDINBURGH: THE MOST BRITISH CITY

Edinburgh’sinner citypopulationsare stillmixed, stillsharingspace tokeep the cityrelativelycompact,transporteasier andcivicfunctionsrelativelyclose.


THE FINANCIALCOLLAPSEOF RANGERS:LESSONS FOR THEBUSINESSOF FOOTBALL?

“I bought the club because I am afan and I think I can run it as abusiness and do well”, CraigWhyte, quoted in Esplin, R. andWalker, G. (2011), The OfficialBiography of Rangers, p.8.

An organisation with veryhumble beginnings, Rangerswas started in 1872 as a street

team by four teenage boys from theGareloch, brothers Moses andPeter McNeil, Peter Campbell andWilliam McBeath, who hadbecome enthused by the new sportof football. Since then it has devel-oped into a world famous club:hugely successful on the field ofplay in Scotland, its 54 leaguechampionships being more thanany other club in the world; consid-ered by many as a Scottish institu-tion, a status reflected in theextraordinary media and publicinterest in the club and its situationsince it was placed in administra-tion on 14th February 2012. Evenby the often bizarre financial andbusiness behaviour of footballclubs, the story of Rangers and itscollapse into administration, andsubsequent liquidation, stands out.Daily updates have emerged fromthe administrators and elsewhere ofevidence and claims of financialand governance failure and possiblemalpractice by those who haveowned and run the club. The ninemonths of the Craig Whyte regimesaw a failure to pay PAYE and VAT;the advance sale of future years’

season tickets as a means of fundingWhyte’s acquisition of the club, afailure to disclose such information,more so, an initial denial that ticketsales had been leveraged and usedin that way; the club and Whytebeing charged by the SFA for beach-es of its rules concerning compli-ance with the governing body’sArticles of Association, insolvencyand bringing the game into disre-pute … The legacy of the previousownership of Sir David Murray? Aforced sale of a markedly down-sized club, the consequence of pre-vious financial excess and livingbeyond the club’s sustainable finan-cial means; a major on-going taxdispute and subsequent tribunal setup to adjudicate on the question ofan Employee Benefits Trust – a taxavoidance scheme set up to makethe club more attractive to higherquality players; claims of dual con-tracts for players against SFA rules… While much of the Rangers storyremains unclear, what is emphati-cally clear is that there is markeddifference between this contempo-rary presentation of RangersFootball Club and its historicalpresentation, captured, for exam-ple, by one of its most legendaryfigures, the former manager, BillStruth:

“To be a Ranger is to sense thesacred trust of upholding all thatsuch a name means in this shrine offootball. They must be true in theirconception of what the Ibrox tra-dition seeks from them. No true

Ranger has ever failed in the tradi-tion set him”.1

The current crisis at Rangers hasthree related elements: i) what hap-pened in terms of the club’s activi-ties, management and governanceafter Craig Whyte took over inMay 2011; ii) the management ofthe club prior to the takeover,under the ownership of Sir DavidMurray; and iii) the takeover dealand financial arrangements, whichbrought these two parties together.While some of the issues are specif-ic to this club, its takeover and theindividuals involved, more genericissues also arise in terms of the busi-ness of football and the ownershipand governance of clubs. The aimof this piece is to not to retell theon-going Rangers story, but ratherto place it in its wider context.

LIMITED LIABILITYLike many other British clubs, theearly Rangers Football Club wasan association of individuals con-cerned with promoting the playingof the game and with no concernover the pursuit of profit or finan-cial gain. While football in othercountries continues to be organ-ised through a membership associ-ation structure, most clubs inScotland and England quicklyadopted the structure of limitedliability companies (Rangers con-verted to limited liability status in1899), motivated initially by adesire to protect the founders andofficers from personal liability inthe event of the clubs developingunpayable debts, particularly aswages rose – rather ironical whenone reflects on the apparent pur-pose of the Employee BenefitsTrust at Rangers. While the initialmotivation for this structure wasrational, its consequences for pro-fessional football in the UK havebeen far reaching and continue tohave major ramifications for clubs.The limited liability model nor-mally results in a separation ofownership and control of a com-pany. In football clubs, however,the two often continue to overlap,with consequences for governanceand accountability and can resultin a division between those who

Even by theoften bizarrefinancial andbusinessbehaviour offootballclubs, thestory ofRangers andits collapseintoadministra -tion, andsubsequentliquidation,stands out.

The debacle over the collapse of one ofScotland’s premier clubs just runs and runs.Stephen Morrow examines the questions ofgovernance and accountability that the wholesorry affair raises for “the people’s game”.


own and run the clubs and thosewho support them.

In recent times, Rangers FC hashad a concentrated ownership andcontrol structure, with a single indi-vidual owning directly, or throughother corporate interests, a largepercentage of shares. Prior to DavidMurray’s ownership the club wasowned and controlled (65.98%)from November 1985 by JohnLawrence (Glasgow) Ltd, a compa-ny controlled by LawrenceMarlborough. Marl borough wasthe grandson of John Lawrence,who had been Chairman ofRangers for a decade from 1963,during which time he became theclub’s majority owner. It wasMarlborough who appointedDavid Holmes as chief executiveand subsequently also as chairman;in turn Holmes appointed GraemeSouness as manager in June 1986;and in turn Souness played a part inDavid Murray’s decision in 1988 totake a controlling interest in theclub through his company MurrayInternational Holdings Ltd. In May2011, Murray sold his 85.3%shareholding to Craig Whyte.

ACCEPTED WISDOMFor a long time accepted wisdomin the business of football was theconcentrated ownership model –the so-called benign dictator orbenefactor model – was the idealownership structure for a club.What could be better than forone’s football club to be ownedand managed by a wealthy busi-nessman, motivated not by profitbut by non-financial objectivessuch as sporting success? Thisseems certainly the view held bymany Rangers supporters duringthe high spending years of DavidMurray’s ownership, but would bejust as commonly held among sup-porters of, say, Chelsea underRoman Abramovich, ManchesterCity under Sheikh Mansour, InterMilan under Massimo Moratti andmany others. But given the peculi-arities of football clubs, more criti-cal analysis of this supposed idealmodel is required.

Football clubs in the UK and inmany other countries continue to

have cultural and social signifi-cance. This is apparent in theenduring high profile presence ofthese clubs in specific communi-ties, not necessarily only geograph-ical communities, but is mostvisibly demonstrated in ways inwhich a supporter tends to identifywith a particular club, a relation-ship which extends well beyondfinancial transactions. Easy toexaggerate supporter loyalty, itremains a vitally important asset tofootball clubs. But there is a riskthat this loyalty can be exploitedor expropriated by some ownersand directors. Craig Whyte’s deci-sion to finance his takeover usingfunds generated through sellingthe asset of future season tickets isa clear example of expropriationin cash flow terms. But expropria-tion is also a risk in the context ofnon-financial objectives. Where adominant owner presents all deci-sions and behaviour in terms of“trying to do what is best for thisfootball club”, it becomes difficultfor supporters to challenge theowner, concerned at being por-trayed in some way as against“their club”.

SOCIAL CONTROLThe multi-faceted nature of theirrelationship with a club meansthat supporters are reluctant touse market-based approaches suchas exit (i.e. withdrawing theirfinancial support) as means ofcontrolling or disciplining behav-iour. Under some conditions socialcontrol may be a more efficientmeans of control than markets.Ordinarily if society deems anorganisation unworthy of contin-ued support, it will withhold thatsupport and the organisation willcease to exist. The disappearanceof the accounting and auditingfirm Arthur Andersen in the wakeof the Enron debacle, despite theabsence of any obvious legalprecedent for dismantling it,would be one such example.2

More recently the News of theWorld is another example. Herethe organisations are deemed tohave abused their status, thus for-feiting their right to be treated as

going concerns. The anti-Glazerfamily ownership protests atManchester United, the Greenand Gold campaign, in which sup-porters invoked notions of theclub’s origins as Newton Heath,was one example of attempts touse social control in a football set-ting. However, as was apparent inthis example, the very centrality ofthe club to many people’s identityand the fear of undermining theinstitution rather than the owners,means that without supportersalso being willing to invoke eco-nomic sanctions to restrain theclub, the most likely outcome is nochange. The supporters’ dilemmaat Rangers is not diminished byclose relationships between somemembers of the media and thosein positions of control in the club,resulting in the paucity of criticalmedia scrutiny.3 Reflecting on theperiod of excessive spending byDavid Murray, one interpretationis that his position as majorityowner enabled him to exploit thecommitment and loyalty of itssupporters; the shared desire forsuccess being asserted and used tojustify irrational and unsustainablefinancial behaviour. To many, con-tributing to the possible disappear-ance of a social and culturalinstitution which has been an inte-gral part of its communities formore than 100 years might beconsidered the ultimate expropri-ation of a football club’s stake-holders. Over the years, even inthose clubs which have been mostspectacularly mismanaged result-ing in adverse economic and socialconsequences, society or stake-holder groups tend to deem theorganisation (as distinct from theowners and managers) as worthyof support at all costs. Withoutany form of effective social con-trol and in the absence of a suffi-ciently rigorous regulatorysystem4, there is unfettered marketcontrol: anyone can buy and sell aclub, can manage or mismanage itas they see fit, with little or noobligation to give a proper andfull account of their activities tostakeholders. The limited liabilitymodel leaves many stakeholders in

For a longtimeacceptedwisdom inthe businessof footballwas theconcentratedownershipmodel – theso-calledbenigndictator orbenefactormodel – wasthe idealownershipstructure fora club.

THE FINANCIAL COLLAPSE OF RANGERS


these social institutions neuteredor powerless in terms of disciplin-ing management.

DOMINANT OWNERA further problem with a concen-trated ownership framework isthat its stability is entirelydependent on the current ownercontinuing to wish to own theclub and in most cases, includingRangers, being able and willing tocontinue to fund it. Whilemarkedly different in size andscale, the consequences of formerGretna owner Brooks Mileson’sillness and untimely death in 2008highlight the risks of the domi-nant owner model. An investmentestimated at £8m saw that clubprogress through the Scottishleagues, participating in theScottish Premier League in2007/08 and reaching the ScottishCup final in season 2006/07,before the club was placed inadministration in March 2008and then liquidation in July 2008.There is, of course, no parallelbetween the two clubs in terms oftheir history, community and sup-porter base: one thing that almostall observers are agreed on is thatin some shape or form Rangerswill continue as a football club.But at the same time, in both thesecases and others it is unarguablethat there is no stability beyondthe current owner. Hence, anyclub’s supporters, its stakehold-ers, supplier companies or com-munity organisations which havea business or societal relationshipwith it are exposed to and at riskfrom the behaviour of that domi-nant owner, including decisionstaken by the owner as to who is anappropriate new owner. In areport in 2009 on MoneyLaundering in Football, theFinancial Action Task Forceexpressed its concern about theeffects of the inherent financialfragility of football clubs beingexaggerated by the financial crisis,thus making it harder to findsponsors, concluding that “thereis a risk that clubs that are in debtwill not ask many questions whena new investor appears”.5

What then are the implicationsfor Rangers and for football morewidely? Football and football clubshave become obsessed with finan-cial considerations. That it hasbecome apparent that the SPL’sbroadcasting deal depends on fourmatches between Celtic andRangers each season and that ifrequired, the SPL rules couldpermit a reformed Rangers Newcoto return straight into the SPL,clearly highlight the extent towhich business considerationsimpinge upon sporting and ethicalconsiderations. There is a long his-tory in the UK of football clubswearing corporate clothes and inrecent decades, as the financialside of football has become evermore significant, increasingly foot-ball as an economic activity hasbecome normalised, clubs viewedand reported by leading commen-tators as if they were normal busi-nesses.6 Yet, it is manifest that,with one or two exceptions, theydo not act as profit motivated busi-nesses. One positive consequenceof the high profile administrationof Rangers is that it offered areminder of what it is that footballclubs actually are: social institu-tions with responsibilities and obli-gations to their stakeholders andto their communities; organisa-tions that have a duty of accounta-bility (not least financialaccountability). In short football isnot just another business. Its clubsare not just mere commodities tobe bought and sold without con-sideration of their broader socialrole and communal contribution.These are organisations that areeconomic in basis, but social innature. At best they operate asnon-profit organisations, any sur-pluses generated being reinvestedin those entities. At worst, theyoperate as irrational wage max-imisers, every last £ of income andmore being spent on player salariesin pursuit of “sporting success”.Social and political reaction to thepotential demise of Rangersdemonstrates quite visibly thatdespite the rhetoric and the corpo-rate clothes, in the final analysissociety does not consider them as

businesses. Few other failing com-panies with an annual turnoverranging between £40m–£60m findthemselves the centre of relentlessmedia and political commentaryfor months (and counting …).

LESSONS TO BE LEARNED?What lessons are to be learnedfrom this debacle to improve thegovernance and regulation of foot-ball? Within the limited liabilitycorporate structure widespread inScottish and English football, oneoption is to “play the game”. Cansupporters, individually or collec-tively, be encouraged to acquirefinancial ownership rights, broad-ening and ideally stabilising theownership of clubs and hencegaining some influence within thecompany’s management and deci-sion-making? In 2000, the thenUK Labour government estab-lished Supporters Direct to pro-mote supporter involvement infootball clubs in England andScotland, particularly through thesetting up of supporter trusts, col-lective structures akin to mutualsocieties or trade unions. At itscore was the belief that supportersare the community in which afootball club has its being.Ostensibly there remains politicalsupport for encouraging supporterand community ownership of foot-ball clubs, with both the LabourParty and Conservative Party man-ifestos for the 2010 UK GeneralElection committing to policies inthese areas.7 Subsequently theCoalition’s commitment to thissouth of the border has been luke-warm at best, seemingly acceptingthe FA and the Premier League’sposition that Supporters Directshould be self-funding.8 By con-trast, in Scotland the SNP has com-mitted further funding toSupporters Direct Scotland to con-tinue to support and advise exist-ing supporter trusts and tobroaden its reach and membershipto other supporters’ groups andindividual fans. At least one of thegroups that expressed interest inacquiring Rangers, the BlueKnights, worked with supportergroups to try to ensure a more

Cansupporters,individuallyor collect -ively, beencouragedto acquirefinancialownershiprights,broadeningand ideallystabilisingtheownership ofclubs?


inclusive ownership structure forthe club going forward. Whilesome way from a mutually struc-tured organisation, this wouldhave been a step in the right direc-tion for Rangers and for otherclubs, lessening the risks outlinedabove of expropriation by a domi-nant owner. In addition, owner-ship also brings responsibility anda requirement to temper stake-holder and supporter expectationsor align those with the reality ofthe club’s financial situation. At aclub, where for all but very briefperiods of its existence, success hasbeen expected rather than hopedfor, that will doubtless present itsown challenges.

INCLUSIVE OWNERSHIP MODELSIn the present financial climate andin the knowledge of the businessperformance of many professionalfootball clubs, few would argue forsuch clubs to be the recipients ofpublic funding. However, the ben-efits to be gained from clubshaving an opportunity to consideradoption of more inclusive owner-ship and governance models suchas Community Interest Companiesor Industrial and ProvidentSocieties may well justify modestpublic support. Given the socialsignificance of these organisations,grant funding to examine how besta club and its stakeholders couldtransform ownership structures tocreate a sustainable model couldbe public funds well spent. Manybenefits may arise from broaderownership structures, not least theopportunity for a shared under-standing among stakeholders ofthe business challenges of runninga football club. The onus wouldalso be put on a club’s communi-ties (in the broadest sense) todemonstrate that their club is, asoften asserted, a vibrant socialinstitution.

Financial behaviour is as impor-tant as structure and governance.From 2013–14 European foot-ball’s governing body, UEFA, isintroducing Financial Fair Play(FFP) regulations as part of its clublicensing scheme. FFP regulationsdemand a break-even pattern, cal-

culated by comparing relevantcosts and income over a rollingthree year period, relevance there-of dependent on political andvalue judgements about what typesof activities clubs engage in andhow they are financed. At its sim-plest, clubs must match footballexpenditure with football income.Expenditure on things like com-munity or social activities or youthdevelopment is excluded from thecalculation. FFP makes no com-ment on particular ownershipmodels. Financial fairness does,however, restrict the behaviour ofowners, with financial supportfrom benefactors being restrictedto investment in things like infra-structure, rather than compensat-ing for operating losses on anex-post basis. Given the high sig-nificance of salary costs for mostclubs and the unwillingness orinability of directors to withstandunsustainable wage demands fromplayers and their agents, FFP alsoacts as an implicit salary cap. Thisapproach explicitly recognises thesocial nature of football, protectsthe integrity of leagues and compe-titions by focusing on financialfairness, at the same time making itmore difficult for owners tobehave in a manner detrimental toother stakeholders. In its domesticcontext, the SFA already operates aclub licensing system. The intro-duction of FFP provides a templatewhich can easily be extendedbeyond its current locus of clubsseeking to take part in UEFA’sEurope-wide club competitions.Rolling out a modified form ofFFP in respect of SPL clubs wouldbe a sensible intervention for gov-erning bodies, requiring clubs tocarry through at all times on therhetoric of living within theirmeans. Returning to governance, itis also essential that a rigorous “fitand proper” person test be intro-duced. While this could be super-vised directly by the game’sauthorities, a more effectiveapproach may well be to engageexternal professionals to developand oversee a system in which thesize and status of a club, coupledwith judgements on perceived risk

in respect of owners and directors,would influence the level of regu-latory intervention deemed appro-priate.

� Stephen Morrow is a SeniorLecturer in Sports Finance in theSchool of Sport at the University ofStirling. He is the author of ThePeople’s Game? Football, Financeand Society.

NOTES1. Esplin, R. and Walker, G.

(2011), The Official Biographyof Rangers, p.33.

2. Sama, L.M. and Shoaf, V.(2005), “Reconciling rules andprinciples: An ethics-basedapproach to corporate gover-nance”, Journal of BusinessEthics, 58, pp.177–185.

3. See, for example, “My blogshows how Scotland’s mediawere complicit in Rangers fall”,Rangerstaxcase.com, TheGuardian, 17 February 2012.For a broader discussion, seealso, Boyle, R., Dinan, W. andMorrow, S. (2002) “Doing theBusiness? Newspaper reportingof the business of football”,Journalism, 3 (2). pp.161–181.

4. For example, as SFA ChiefExecutive Stewart Regan hasacknowledged, the SFA’s “fitand proper person” criterion isreliant on clubs and individualsdisclosing relevant information,and hence is akin to system ofself-regulation.

5. Financial Action Task Force(2009), Money Laundering inFootball (Paris: FATF/OECD).

6. Moorhouse, H.F. (2007),“Financial expertise, authorityand power in the Europeanfootball ‘industry’”, Journal ofContemporary EuropeanResearch, 3(3), pp.290–299.

7. Labour Party Manifesto 2010,A Future Fair for All, Number32; The Conservative PartyManifesto 2010, Invitation toJoin the Government of Britain,p.39.

8. Conn, D. “FA raises white flagin 20-year battle for the soul offootball”, The Guardian, 14March 2012, p.50.

Manybenefits mayarise frombroaderownershipstructures,not least theopportunityfor a sharedunderstand -ing amongstakeholdersof thebusinesschallenges ofrunning afootball club.

THE FINANCIAL COLLAPSE OF RANGERS


THE CROWD IN HISTORY

Crowds are notoriously diffi-cult to classify and define,and only in recent decades

received the analysis theydeserved, with George Rudé as themain pioneer. I recall my historyschoolteacher mentioning, in con-nection with the Porteous riots of1736, that the Edinburgh mob ofthe eighteenth century was themost feared in Europe. “Mob” wasof course a derogatory term, andreflected what was, with someexceptions, the general attitude ofcommentators on the activities ofcrowds. Indeed, the French writerGustave Le Bon (1841–1931), ahardline reactionary, argued thatcrowds were by their very natureinherently violent and vicious, aswell as easily manipulated – whichmade him very popular withHitler, Goebbels and Mussolini.The contrasting attitudesexpressed by commentators or his-torians can be summed up bywhether they prefer the term “mobrule” on one hand, or “peoplepower” on the other.

Evidently there is a significantdifference between a crowd cele-brating an event of public acclaim,such as a carnival, or historicevent like VE day in 1945, andone witnessing a public executionor intent on threatening thehomes and/or lives of Catholics,Jews, African-Americans – or anypersecuted minority. Crowds aremostly an urban phenomenon,though in premodern timescrowds of peasants were by nomeans exceptional.

There are two main areas ofinvestigation regarding crowds,whether in the first or the twenty-first century: who they were com-posed of and what were theirobjectives. Subsidiary issues relateto how they come together, what

degree of leadership, organisationor spontaneity was to be foundamong them, and in whose namedid the participants regard them-selves as acting. What we mayterm the “routine” or “audience”crowd, whether viewing bloodsports in the Roman arena or foot-ball matches at the Ibrox stadium,we can disregard. Our concern iswith crowds which assemble inorder to voice protest and anger,usually against the authorities, butsometimes against prominent dissi-dents. According to Rudé ,“Theriot, then, is the characteristic andever-recurring form of popularprotest which, on occasion, turnsinto rebellion or revolution”. (TheCrowd in History 1730–1848,1964)

EARLY CROWDSThe earliest believable reports wehave concerning activist crowds

are to be found in the History ofthe Peloponnesian War by the fifthcentury BCE Greek historianThucydides, where he gives (fairlyunfriendly) accounts of citizenuprisings, some of which involvedvigorously combative women,against the power of oligarchs.Later on, the first five books of theNew Testament contain hostile ref-erences to crowd activity inJerusalem and other cities, whilethe Roman crowd, a constant con-cern of the authorities, was a cru-cial element in the victory ofOctavian (later Augustus) andMark Anthony over Brutus andCassius. Six centuries later theByzantine emperor Justinian camevery close to being overthrown bycrowd activity in Constantinople.

A problem historians face instudying peasant or artisan crowdsin the premodern era is the almostunanimous hostility towards them

The Frenchrevolution of1830,personified inEugeneDelacroix’sLiberty Leadingthe People

The role of the crowd in history can been seen as “mob rule” or“people power”, depending on your viewpoint. In the first oftwo articles, Willie Thompson assesses this form of popularprotest from the ancient Greeks to the Russian revolution.


displayed by the literate contem-poraries who created the records– being literate they seldombelonged to the “lower orders”.Some examples from antiquity arementioned above. Shakespeare’splays also exemplify this, and hewas of course drawing on the pop-ular imagery of such crowds whichprevailed among the literate class-es of his day. It is clear howeverthat crowds of those kinds playeda major role in the medieval era;one has only to think of theEnglish Peasants’ Revolt of 1381and of similar revolts in southernEngland during the following cen-tury led by individuals such as JackStraw(!!) and Jack Cade.

France and the Low Countriessaw activities of a parallel sort,both rural and urban. Indeed inFrance the word jacquerie wascoined specifically to identify suchpeasant outbreaks. Italian citiesregularly experienced mass distur-bances, and in 1478 supporters ofthe Medici came out on the streetsshouting the slogan “Balls! balls!”(the Medici emblem) against theirrivals, the Pazzi. This event, likethe Peasants’ Revolt, resulted inthe lynching of an archbishop. Inthe sixteenth century Germanywas rocked by both peasant andurban revolution, and the ScottishReformation of the 1560s owed agreat deal to the crowds of peas-ants and artisans who rioted onbehalf of the Protestant lairds andlords. In 1641 the London crowdsplayed a crucial role in ensuringparliamentary control of the cityagainst the king. There was adarker side however to medievaland early modern crowds, as theycould readily engage in Jew huntsas well as other forms of religiouspogrom. Indeed ghettoes were ini-tially established by kings to pro-tect their Jews from that sort ofthing.

THE POLITICAL CROWDOur concentration in the first ofthese articles will be with crowds,principally urban ones, betweenthe eighteenth century and theRussian revolution. These werecenturies with a background of

unprecedentedly dramatic eco-nomic and social change andupheaval. The typical form ofprotest throughout Europe duringmost of the eighteenth century,with an abatement in the middleyears when harvests were unusual-ly good, was the hunger riot aimedat high prices and hoarders ofgrain or flour. Sometimes thegoods were simply seized, butmore often the rioters compelledtheir sale at what they regarded asa “just price” – an example of whatEP Thompson has termed the“moral economy”.

However in the later decades ofthe century, while hunger riotscontinued and even intensified, amore political edge frequentlybegan to characterise popularprotest. It was a sign that themasses were beginning to developa political consciousness, and ulti-mately an independent one,though initially elements of theupper classes took the lead. In thesixties and early seventies Londoncrowds under the slogan “Wilkesand Liberty!” demonstrated andrioted on behalf of John Wilkes,who was popular (though he was alandowner and something of aHooray Henry) for his defiance ofthe arbitrary aristocratic govern-ment of the day. The Gordon riotsof 1780, again in London, were adifferent matter. They began as aprotest incited by the insane LordGeorge Gordon against a parlia-mentary bill to remove some legaldisabilities from Catholic citizensand then escalated into a week’sriot and extensive destruction ofCatholic and other properties untilbloodily suppressed by the mili-tary. In the American coloniesduring the sixties and seventiescrowd activism in Boston andPhiladelphia greatly encouragedthe revolutionary leaders to stakeeverything on independence.

The great French revolutionmarked the culmination of seven-teenth-century crowd activism,beginning with the storming of theBastille in July 1789 and endingwith the brutal dispersal of hungerrioters demanding bread anddemocracy in May 1795. In the

course of the revolution and inParis especially, crowd demonstra-tions, armed or otherwise, wereclosely associated with all its prin-cipal turning points, particularlythe Bastille and the later overthrowof the monarchy in August 1792.Events in France sparked insur-gency beyond its frontiers, not leastin Britain and particularly Ireland,where it escalated into full-scalearmed peasant revolt. In ScotlandThomas Muir was persecuted fortrying to organise a convention(the name of the French republicanassembly which had executed theking. It had the same overtone thenand in the nineteenth century that“Soviet” was to do in the twenti-eth). In England there were alsopolitically inspired dissident gath-erings at the time, particularly inthe north and midlands, but evenmore noticeably the “Church andKing mobs”, especially inBirmingham, who singled out rev-olutionary advocates or sympathis-ers, most prominently the scientistJoseph Priestly, for attack on theirhomes and property.

WHO WERE THEY AND WHAT DIDTHEY WANT?The Bastille episode is importanthistoriographically as well as his-torically, for it was thanks to itsimpact that for the first time histo-rians are able to get an overall ideaof who made up the crowd. Onthat occasion or shortly after-wards, extensive records were keptof background and occupation(previously only those who subse-quently stood trial were noted)and Rudé was the first to investi-gate them. It had been the histori-cal prevailing assumption thatthese crowds or “mobs” were com-posed of “the scum of the earthenlisted for drink” (as the Duke ofWellington was to remark of hisown soldiers) – thieves, pimps,vagabonds, beggars and suchlike, apresumption which has been ofcourse recycled endlessly in fic-tional accounts. In reality nothingcould be further from the truth. Tobe sure, the personnel of the July14 crowd, and of other similarones as far as can be established,

It had beenthe historicalprevailingassumptionthat crowdsor “mobs”werecomposed of“the scum ofthe earthenlisted fordrink”.



were indeed from the “lowerorders”, but from its “respectable”stratum – shopkeepers, self-employed artisans, petty employ-ers with their journeymen andapprentices, clerks and notaries –the sansculottes – and oftenwomen from the same social level.Criminal elements, when theywere present, constituted at most afringe phenomenon and were fre-quently restrained or punished bythe demonstrators.

Another myth is that protestingcrowds in general were maniacallybloodthirsty and indiscriminatekillers. Certainly they were oftenvery violent, but the violence wasdirected overwhelmingly againstproperty rather than persons, andvery specifically targeted propertyat that – in the Gordon riots forexample, the rioters killed nobody;the killing of hundreds was doneby the authorities then, and lateron the gallows. Lynchings by theFrench revolutionary crowds weremore prevalent, but again, exceptin one important specific instance,they were relatively minimal anddirected against particularlydetested individuals. The excep-tion was the September massacresof 1792, when a counter-revolu-tionary invasion of Paris wasexpected daily and prisonersassumed to be its likely collabora-tors, including juvenile delin-quents, were indiscriminatelyslaughtered in hundreds. Even inthis case however, the actual

killings were not carried out by afrenzied crowd, though crowdscertainly encouraged them, but bya selected group of assassinsreferred to as Septembriseurs. Thereally massive bloodlettings of theFrench revolution, Red Terror orWhite, were not the responsibilityof mobs but of constituted author-ities whether revolutionary orcounter-revolutionary.

The English Church and Kingmobs likewise avoided murder orpersonal molestation, concentrat-ing on the destruction of reform-ers’ property, or more exactly thatof wealthy reformers (GrassicGibbon includes a similar incidentin the Mearns in the opening his-torical section of Sunset Song,describing the motivation behindit). The motivations of thesedestructive crowds whatever theirpolitics undoubtedly included astrong element of class vengeance– it was the well-off, reactionariesor reformers, who got the brunt oftheir anger “animated by the level-ling principle”, and if they couldclaim to be rioting on behalf ofapproved institutions or individu-als, monarchical or anti-monarchi-cal depending on context, so muchthe better. It was not only materialconsiderations which were atissue, important though thesewere. We have to keep in mind thegeneral precariousness of humanlife at the time (and even more soin earlier centuries). Innovation,however rational, could mean very

bad news for large numbers ofpeople, as somewhat later theLuddite rioters were demonstrat-ing. But in addition ideologicalbeliefs, usually religious, wereextremely important. Perceivedthreats to cherished assumptionswhich provided meaning andframework for their precariouslives were likely to provoke pow-erful negative reactions amongeither Gordon’s followers or theFrench peasants who rebelledagainst the Convention

For reactionaries like Le Bonand his successors however, it wasthe example of the Septembermassacres which identified thenature of politically or sociallymotivated crowds in all times andplaces, creating a legend of hateand horror. Rudé by contrastmakes it entirely plain that on allother occasions in the timeframehe discusses the death roll in therepression which followed riots orinsurgencies was always far higherthan that inflicted by the crowds.

The action of crowds in this eragenerally failed to attain theirobjectives. The exceptions usuallyfailed to last, and so far as they suc-ceeded only did so in the caseswhen they were supported by sec-tions of the elite, however modestthat elite might be. In the mostspectacular instance of all, thestorming of the Bastille wouldhave been no more than a particu-larly dramatic riot if it had not alsobeen backed up by the NationalAssembly sitting at Versailles. Onthe only serious occasion when, inMay 1795, the armed crowd’saction was entirely spontaneousand without ulterior guidance orsupport, it failed altogether andthis marked the end of the sanscu-lotte power.

THE NINETEENTH CENTURYIn conjunction with the spread ofpolitical consciousness among themasses the protesting crowds inthis century tended to have a con-siderably greater degree of organi-sation and specific political aim.This was true of the politicalreformers in Britain, from the daysof the post-1815 agitations, char-

The Gordonriots: the rioterskilled nobody;the killing ofhundreds wasdone by theauthorities


acterised especially by the Peterloomassacre, to the Chartist move-ment between 1839 and 1848, andother demonstrations demandingelectoral reform or else tradeunion rights, especially the “PlugRiots” of industrial strikers in1842. In the main these werepeaceful, with violence where itoccurred coming from the militaryor the constabulary, but not invari-ably so – large areas of the city ofBristol were virtually sacked anddestroyed (again without fatalitiesuntil the subsequent hangings)after the House of Lords tried toblock the Reform Bill of 1832.

It was organised demonstrationsled by middle-class revolutionarieswhich overthrew the Frenchmonarchy in 1830 and again in1848, but spontaneous ones whichoverturned governments (tem-porarily) elsewhere in Europeduring that year. The leadership ofthe movements however was soonassumed by middle class elites,whose social conservatism usuallymade a botch of matters and pro-duced a reversal, so that in thecases where the revolutionaryregimes had managed to establishthemselves, as in Rome, Venice,Vienna and Hungary, they werecrushed by outside military force.Undoubtedly however the greatestpopular movement during thenineteenth century, predominantlypeasant, against corrupt and use-less government, was the Taipingrebellion in China 1850–64 (lateran inspiration to Mao Zedong)which after mighty successes waslikewise undone by incompetentleadership, with a tally of about 20million lives.

The Paris commune of 1871, inwhich women played a major role,began with crowd demonstrationsagainst the capitulating govern-ment in the wake of the lostFranco-Prussian War and over-throw of Napoleon III. Thoughequally unsuccessful due to impos-sible odds, and taking place on amuch smaller scale, it was to makean even greater historical impactthan the Chinese events. Marxdeclared it to be the first exampleof the dictatorship of the proletari-

at, and so it was regarded by revo-lutionary socialists thereafter.However the Parisian workingclass, mobilised in the NationalGuard, which established this rev-olutionary regime aimed at abol-ishing social hierarchy, were not inthe main factory workers butsmall-scale artisans of the samesocial groupings as had made upthe sansculotte masses of theFrench revolution. The victoriousconservatives later massacred30,000 to 50,000 Communards.

EARLY TWENTIETH CENTURYThe role of crowds and mass move-ments in twentieth century historyis one of great and ambiguous com-plexity – certainly it was substan-tial. In 1905 it was a crowd ofpeaceful petitioners inSt Petersburg shot down by theTsar’s guards – the first of the cen-tury’s many Bloody Sundays –which ignited the countrywide rev-olution of that year which Leninwas to term “the great rehearsal”.The Chinese revolution beginningin 1911 which put an end to theQuing dynasty, certainly involvedhuge numbers of people, but theactivism was mainly an affair ofunderground revolutionary groupsand, especially, rebelling militaryunits – as a result inflicting on thesubsequent bourgeois republic anultimately lethal militaristic frame-work. The Mexican revolution,taking place at the same time andalso spectacularly bloody, took theprincipal form of a peasant upris-ing extending over a decade and ahalf. It did, at least for a time,achieve its central aims of landredistribution and social justice forthe labour force. Dominated in themain by middle class revolutionar-ies it also included among its majorleaders Pancho Villa and EmilianoZapata, who were born poor peas-ants and were authentic represen-tatives of the masses.

THE RUSSIAN REVOLUTION OFMARCH (FEBRUARY) 1917The monarchy’s fall in March wasdue ultimately to the impact of alost war and the social crisis whichits mismanagement generated –

hunger, cold and deprivation inthe cities, bitter anger in the vil-lages over losses among the mainlypeasant soldiers. The tipping pointhowever was a mass demonstra-tion in the capital (renamedPetrograd since 1914) onInternational Women’s Day.Gaining confidence from thisevent the citizens of the capitalcontinued demonstrations on adaily basis composed of women,strikers (and women strikers) and,very importantly, dissident sol-diers, not unlike what was to occurin the Arab Spring nearly a centurylater. At first the demonstrationswere put down by the military,particularly the Cossack cavalry,but they grew in number nonethe-less and finally the soldiers refusedto charge or fire on the crowds.Shortly afterwards the Tsar wascompelled to abdicate – but therevolution was only beginning.

This was an indicative develop-ment for later historical outcomes.As Engels noted in the 1890s,developments in military technol-ogy had altered the terms ofengagement between dissidentcrowds and the authorities theycontested. The days were over forbarricade fighting, with citizensdefeating the military, as hadoccurred in 1848. By the 20th cen-tury an event like the Bastillestorming would have beenunthinkable so long as govern-ments had control of reliable pro-fessional military forces – that waswhat had suppressed the 1905Russian revolution. Guerrilla war-fare in suitable rural terrainremained a viable revolutionarytechnique, but if urban crowdsaiming at overthrow were to pre-vail they now had to win over atleast part of the military opposingthem (and historians have tounderstand why and how such mil-itary disaffection could be foment-ed). This relationship was toprovide the framework for many asubsequent revolution.

� Willie Thompson is a historian.The second part of this article willdeal with the 20th and 21st cen-turies.

Pancho Villaand EmilianoZapata, whowere born poorpeasants andwere authenticrepresentativesof the masses



SCOTTISH STUDIESAND THECURRICULUM FOR EXCELLENCE

In 1988 I visited the SovietUnion for the first time. I hadbeen a member of the Scotland-

Russia Institute for a number ofyears and they arranged a mem-bers’ offer I couldn’t resist. It wasan affordable trip to Russia and theBaltic States for a reasonableamount of time and at a reasonablecost. And the best thing of all, itwas designed for members with aninterest in the arts, and even better,if any particular area of arts was aspeciality then they would try toarrange for you to meet or visit arelevant person or institution.

And so it was that amongst ourgroup were theatre directors, radiopresenters, university lecturers,journalists, writers and artists.

My interest, because I hadalways been interested in the visualarts, was primary school art educa-tion. My first visit was to a 10 yearschool (so called because it was for7–17 year olds) on the outskirts ofVilnius in Lithuania. The headmas-ter welcomed me to a school thatlooked remarkably like urbanschools in Scotland. Built in the1960s with a flat roof and metalwindows, too hot in summer andtoo cold in winter; you will haveseen its “classic” design.

STACK OF BOOKSThe headmaster’s study, where Iwas ushered on arrival, was not alarge room. It had two filing cabi-nets and a bookshelf, three chairs,and the desk which was a metaltable with only three legs. Thefourth “leg” was a stack of books.At that moment the headmaster

explained that the quality of thetable was not reflective of the qual-ity of the books that kept itupright.

I requested a meeting with theart teacher and was asked whichone. There was still full employ-ment which meant that I met theseven art teachers in the schoolwith a roll of 800 pupils. Therewas a paper-making art teacher, aceramics art teacher, drawing andpainting, textiles and print-makingand sculpture teachers. I spent acouple of hours with them andthey listed all of the issues thatconcerned them: low pay, longhours, lack of materials and lack ofrespect or understanding from theauthority. It sounded very familiar.I was shown some of the mostinteresting art work I had everseen and this was made, miracu-lously, with hardly any materials.Art works were done on very smallbits of paper and all materials weretreated preciously.

SANG IN SCOTSAt the point of my departure, theheadmaster returned. He pushedback a dividing wall of the large artroom to reveal forty, or there-abouts, ten and eleven year olds,immaculate in their white shirts,red neck ties and black linen jack-ets. They sang My Love’s Like aRed, Red Rose word perfect and inScots. Then they sang it again inRussian and then again inLithuanian. It was the first of manyemotional moments for me and Iwept. Not only because these chil-dren’s voices were so beautiful and

the song so sweet, I wept because Ididn’t believe there was a school inScotland where this might havehappened.

The rest of the trip broughtmany similar surprises. I met chil-dren and adults who were quiteextraordinarily knowledgeableabout Scotland – people, itseemed, who knew my history andmy language and my culture betterthan I did.

When we saw a queue of peopleright around a block, we imaginedit was for the vodka shop. Vodkawas then rationed by Gorbachevand we were told some wouldqueue for a few hours if theythought the shop was gettingstock.

REAL INTERESTBut it wasn’t. This was in Estonia,and an Estonian writer had a bookwhich was being put on sale thatday for the first time and everyonewanted to read what he had to say.Perestroika delivered some free-dom in the written word and therewas real interest in the writer’scritical analysis and observations.When, I thought, would we see thelike in Scotland?

This is an article about ScottishStudies as part of the school cur-riculum.

Before I attempt that, it isimportant for me to explain myown experience. I attended highschool for three years and did notdistinguish myself there, or at leastnot academically. In class 1A, I hadembarked on a five year courseincluding French. I graduated

They sangMy Love’sLike a Red,Red Roseword perfectand in Scots.

Scottish school students should learn about the history andculture of their own country. Indeed it was an SNP manifestocommitment and, argues Jean Urquhart MSP, could bebeneficially worked in to the Curriculum for Excellence.


thereafter to 2B (three years andno French) and I left at the end of3D having spent the year doingmaths, history, art, English, laun-dry, cooking and housewifery. Theonly real compliment that Iremember getting at school waswhen I was picked (correctly) outof the class of 45 as the culprit whohad drawn the English teacher(unflatteringly) in chalk on theblackboard and was rewarded withsix of the best. As the headmasterwhacked me he told me he knew itwas me because it was so good!

I don’t write this with pride,although I have to say few cancompete with my ironing skills. Inmy thirties I went to regular class-es in Ullapool High School andgained an English Higher.

LATE BUT IN EARNESTSome years later I attendedNewbattle Abbey College (NAC)in Dalkeith where some forty soulshad taken themselves. I suspectthat Perspectives readers will knowof NAC and its fine history. It isScotland’s (only) residential col-lege for adults, whose students arefunded to attend. Its motto “SeroSed Serio” – Late but in Earnest –related well to the students.

While I was there, I was stillresponsible for a small business inUllapool which resulted in mydriving from Dalkeith to Ullapoolon alternate weekends. I offeredan open invitation to my fellowstudents to accompany me if anyof them thought they would like tocome north for a weekend. Thiswas usually met with “Naw, yer awright Jean” – interpreted to mean,teuchterland, why on earth wouldwe want to go there? However,one dull December Friday as I wasleaving the canteen after lunch, avoice shouted, “Haw, Jean, ur yougaun hame the day?” “Cos me nwee Paul, n big Si, n Michael widcome wi yi”.

What on earth has this to dowith Scottish Studies I know youare thinking, but bear with me!

I had an old VW Golf, a boy’sracer in its time, and the three boysgot in the back with their six pack.Before reaching Perth I was asked

if we were nearly there yet. As wejollied along, there were storiesand laughs, jokes and singing. “Isthis the fucking highlands then” atwo-cans of lager down voicecalled from the back seat as wecame to Pitlochry. The singing gotlouder and the good spirits contin-ued.

However, as we drove north, itdid get quieter. As we drovethrough a darkening, snow cov-ered Drumochter, there wasn’t asound.

By the time we reached Ullapoolit was dark and had been for thepast couple of hours. In the morn-ing, four Scots, in their late twen-ties and mid-thirties, self-styled“weegies” or “schemies” who hadrarely, if ever, been north ofShettleston, who had amazinglygot themselves to Dalkeith, stoodon the harbour looking up LochBroom.

They were quiet and they wereangry. After a lot of discussion,they confessed to having “naeidea” of what Scotland was like.They wanted to go everywhere inScotland. “How come naebodytells yi this is whit it’s like, look atthat fuckin hill man!” said Paul.

SCOTTISH STUDIESWe could discuss the how and whyof their reaction for the rest of thisarticle but then it isn’t about them,it’s about Scottish Studies in thecurriculum.

Do I think that I got a bad edu-cation? No, I don’t. Do I “blame”teachers for some lack in myknowledge? No, I don’t. Do Ithink the education system failedmy pals from Newbattle? No, Idon’t.

I worked often in a bar inUllapool. Being a summer holidaykind of place in the days of theGlasgow Fair the village filled upwith folk from the dear greenplace.

From Fair Friday until the lastpound was spent, folk were herecome rain, hail or shine every July.One night I served Jack his usual ashe sat at the end of the bar. He wasa regular “Fair” visitor. He came tothe campsite with his wife, sister-

in-law, his weans, her weans andthe dog. Every night, he came upfor a drink while “the dishes gotdone”. Nearby, were two men alsofrom Glasgow, and by their con-versation, they were clearly archi-tects. They talked quite loudly andfor some time about the towerblocks in the city. After hearing allof this, Jack piped up with “Ahcanny help but hear whit yis aresayin, an if yi ask me, ah’d say thatthat bastard Corbusier pit it awwrang”. “Ah read up aboot him inthe Mitchell Library, great placethat by the way, nuthin ye cannyfun oot.”

There’s more to this story, butit’ll keep.

Author Robin Jenkins, after apublic reading in Ullapool library,told me this story. He was outsideDunoon, near Toward I think.There was a really wee local“supermarket” where he shopped.Arriving at the check-out one daywith a few items, he happened tonotice that the young girl at the tillwas reading “Fergus Lamont” oneof his earlier novels. He put downhis basket. She put down her book.Robin, after a moment, said “Iwrote that”. She looked at him fora minute then looked at the bookand looked at him again and said“What, you?” incredulously. Then,“You wrote this?”, more incredu-lously. Then, “that’ll be twopounds, forty pence.”

As a board member of the thenScottish Arts Council, I visitedBarlanark Primary School whichthe education officer cited ashaving a great response to thehead-teacher’s enlightened atti-tude to “the arts”.

CREATIVE WORKAs we entered the school buildingand made our way to her office,there were children’s drawings ofMackintosh type buildings andother evidence of children’s cre-ative work about the place. Sheexplained the difficulty of trying tomatch her budget to her ambitionand gave evidence of the success ofprojects involving writers and musi-cians in the school. Her budget sheexplained, would if she was careful,

SCOTTISH STUDIES AND THE CURRICULUM FOR EXCELLENCE

After a lot ofdiscussion,theyconfessed tohaving “naeidea” ofwhatScotland waslike. Theywanted to goeverywherein Scotland.


allow a writer to work with eachchild twice during their primaryschool years. And if she was careful,they could be exposed to live musicand meeting musicians three timesduring that same period.

The school was great. It had agood atmosphere and genuinelyhappy children. We were luckyenough to meet three six year oldsat one point. I asked them aboutthe drawings of buildings on thestair-well. “Do you no know aboutMackintosh” said a small six yearold boy. I said I didn’t, but I wassure he was going to tell me. Hedid, finishing his comprehensive,knowledgeable talk about thearchitect with “And we’ve no justdone Mackintosh, we’ve doneGreek Tamson an aw.”

I need to talk about ScottishStudies in the curriculum.

MANIFESTO COMMITMENTI was, surprisingly, elected lastMay as a list member for theHighlands and Islands in that vic-tory for the Scottish NationalParty. During the past year I havebeen a member of the Educationand Culture Committee. I doremember the debate in the parlia-ment at the time when the CabinetSecretary announced that he hadset up a Scottish Studies workinggroup to be chaired by theMinister for Learning, Science andScotland’s Languages, Dr AlasdairAllan. This group was establishedas a result of a manifesto commit-ment to develop the concept ofScottish Studies in our schools.

The debate generated accusa-tions, made by opposing partymembers, as to the “why” of theScottish Studies, suggesting it to beyet another conspiracy by the SNPto brainwash the nation. What’snot to learn about Scotland? Surelywe could welcome an opportunityfor our children to discover thegood, the bad and the ugly.

And what does it mean for theparliament if the default positionof thinking suggests that there isn’ta need for studying differentaspects of our own history, geogra-phy and culture amongst otherthings?

The working group have nowmet several times and their find-ings are in the public domain andstate “Learning about Scotlandshould be embedded across thecurriculum and be a natural andnormal part of the learning experi-ence from early years to seniorphase.”

LEARNING SPORADICIt was acknowledged that thereis already a good deal of whatmight be considered ScottishStudies being taught. While thereare examples of good practice atall stages, from early to seniorphase, there remains concern thatdelivery is dependent on the per-sonal interest and enthusiasm ofpractitioners. Learning aboutScotland is perceived to be spo-radic, ranging quite dramaticallyin terms of how much and howwell.

I think it is important to recog-nise some of the restrictive practicethat has happened in the not-so-distant past. Music tuition is anexample of where, within schoolhours, the music teacher couldonly teach violin and that in aschool with an orchestra that hadbuilt an international reputation: afiddle orchestra.

I am not suggesting here thatviolin tuition is a bad thing, but todeny the teaching of fiddle music ishugely negative. And clearly itdidn’t work.

The Curriculum for Excellencedoes seem to offer good opportu-nity for incorporating ScottishStudies.

While the Curriculum forExcellence has clearly not beenmet with universal acclaim, issuesof timing appear to be of priorityconcern even from those who areinclined to support its introduc-tion; and there are of course manywho have written negatively aboutthe system in its entirety.

There does seem to have beengeneral support (political and edu-cational) for the aims and values ofCurriculum for Excellence, espe-cially, the real world relevance, dis-cussion, debate, critical thinkingand the focus on active learning.

The liberty of the teacher to use hisor her initiative and a move awayfrom more prescriptive forms oflearning would seem to have thebenefit of allowing a great dealmore creativity and pupil involve-ment.

I don’t want to appear casual atall with regard to how difficult it isto introduce such a massive changeto our educational system or howwe might best deal with the prob-lems when they arise. The chal-lenge of teaching history throughthe CfE has been relayed by severalteachers and the work done byThe Royal Society of Edinburghraises many issues that will have tobe addressed. Scotland is not shortof very able historians and educa-tionalists who are enthusiasticallyendorsing the new way and wantto see it work.

The RSE advice paper cites thedanger of the present practice of arestricted or particular period ofhistory being concentrated onfrom primary school “projects”through to Standard and Highergrade; resulting in “a highlyrestricted, distorted, unbalanced,boring and even negative historicallearning experience.”

I don’t doubt that many willremember this particular method-ology and not for the right rea-sons.

TEACHERS LIBERATEDThe future I hope will see CfE findits true form and perhaps the flexi-bility that is central to the new wayof learning which needs to be cen-tral to the whole system introduc-tion with teachers liberated toteach in a systemic way and nottrying to force feed restrictivepractice, based on false achieve-ment. If CfE means that we don’thear children and young peoplesay that they “had” to read a par-ticular book or poem “for theexam” then we will have improvedmuch. And, if the book theychoose to read happens to be writ-ten by a contemporary writer,living in Scotland, because it wasoptional and therefore theirchoice, then that too will havetaken us forward.

There doesseem to havebeen generalsupport forthe aims andvalues ofCurriculumforExcellence.


The afternoon sky flooding our Edinburgh streets summer-blue –

Walking as through a light-drenched forest laden with azure fruit –

Sleepwalking, more like.

Meanwhile someone’s pressed down hard on our spinning world,and stilled it. There’s an action plan,bullet points to asset-strip our lives.Can’t you hear their finger tap-tap-tappingthe surface of the earth to help us keep in step,keep us marching in the right direction?

*

Did we ask for this army of liberation to occupy our flat?Financial meltdown in the front room?Our kitchen forcibly upgraded to a parliament where morality’sthe small print no one reads?

Of course we didn’t.

But somewhere in these sky-blue streets,in the unsounded oceans of the public squares and gardens,the dream we’ve stumbled into is not our own.Not any more.

*

DELETE the permanence of stone cemented onto stone.REFRESH each rush of multi-coloured pixels on the screen.

From time to time we remember we’re at warand the street we live in is the front line.

We’re in a dream within a dream, wanderingfrom one into the next. Cities blister in the unprotected sun.

Those who fight the gods of earth and skywill always fight alone.

� Ron Butlin is Edinburgh’s makar.

SOMEWHERE IN THESESKY-BLUE STREETSby Ron Butlin

I’d like Scotland’s children toknow much more about them-selves. Who they are and wherethey came from. With the expert-ise that we have surely we can beambitious for everyone to be goodat what they can do, to be able touse their knowledge and theirskills and to find that the world is a

different and a better placebecause of their sense of place andidentity.

Start local and think global canbe applied across Curriculum forExcellence and really mean some-thing.

I hope that the teaching profes-sion has a mind to make this work

and I hope that there is toleranceshown and patience for getting thisright for every child and getting itright for every teacher.

� Jean Urquhart is a former coun-cillor and now a member of theScottish parliament for Highlandsand Islands.

I’d likeScotland’schildren toknow muchmore aboutthemselves.

SCOTTISH STUDIES AND THE CURRICULUM FOR EXCELLENCE


WHAT MAKES ASCOTTISH PLAY?

The question which we are asked to discuss todayis “What makes a Scottish play?” Well, in a senseany play written by a Scot is Scottish; but I sup-

pose that we expect more than that. Does it have to beon a Scottish subject, set in Scotland, or to haveScottish characters? Then there is the question of lan-guage. Donald Smith in his contribution to BillFindlay’s A History of Scottish Theatre says:“Scotland’s trilingualism (Scots, Scots-English andGaelic) thrives in the context of international culturaldiversity in a way it was never able to under the domi-nance of an artificially standardized SouthernEnglish.”

DISTINCT HISTORYThe basic reason why the Scottish theatrical traditionis different from the English is because our historiesare distinct, and not only in our centuries of resistanceto invasion from England. I think that probably themain factor is the effect of our very different tradi-tions in education. In 1560 John Knox’s First Book ofDiscipline called for a school in every parish and therewas an enthusiastic response. It was centuries beforeEngland and most other countries in Europe had edu-cation for the whole population. Then Scotland fromearly times had universities which, unlike Oxford andCambridge, were open to the whole population andnot just the wealthy. It used to be said that Englandhad two universities and so had Aberdeen. The twowere eventually amalgamated, but Scotland for cen-turies had others in St Andews, Glasgow andEdinburgh. The consequence was, as Lord Macaulaysaid in his History of England, “the common people ofScotland were superior in intelligence to the commonpeople of any other country in Europe.”

It is probably for this reason that Scots for centurieshave played an important role in many parts ofEurope and made outstanding contributions to philos-ophy, science and the arts. It probably also explainsthe confidence and accomplishment of many of ourpeople. For centuries many travellers who cross theBorder have commented on the striking difference

between the Scots and the English. The 19th CenturyEnglish historian, HT Buckle, for instance in hisHistory of Civilisation said that it was remarkable thatthe English and Scots, despite sharing so many experi-ences “are, in many important respects, as different asif there had never been any means of their influencingeach other, and as if they never had anything incommon.”

For these reasons it is not surprising that our the-atrical tradition is different from the English and thisapplies to Scottish plays in English as well as those inScots or Gaelic. The exception are plays written by aScot deliberately in an English style and intended forthe London stage.

The Scots language is in a curious position. Most ofus these days seldom speak a word of it, but we under-stand and relish it. It has had many set-backs. The ideaof creating an authorised version of the Bible was firstproposed at a meeting in a kirk in Burntisland, butwhen it was undertaken Jamie the Saxt had moved toLondon, and it was written with great brilliance inEnglish. That language became the word o’ God andany serious work in prose had to be written in it. Thatdid not stop our poets writing in their native tongue.And over the years most of our best poetry has beenwritten in Scots and so have many of our best playsand best dialogue in novels.

INFLUENCE AGAINST SCOTSMore recently the most powerful influence against theuse of Scots has been broadcasting controlled fromLondon. When I grew up in Portobello before the 1939war, you heard Scots spoken wherever you went in thetown. Now you have to go into the country to hear it atall. But that has not discouraged the use of Scots in thetheatre, particularly in the last 50 years or so. Two playsin Scots are running in Scottish theatres at present, theNational Theatre’s production of Ena LamontStewart’s Men Should Weep and Liz Lochhead’s MaryQueen of Scots Got Her Head Chopped Off. When Ithink of the plays which I have most enjoyed inScotland most of them have been in Scots. I think in

The National Theatre of Scotland held a discussion at theLyceum Theatre, Edinburgh, in the autumn of last yearbetween the dramatist David Greig and the writer PaulHenderson Scott. The following is Paul Scott’s introduction.

The mostpowerfulinfluenceagainst theuse of Scotshas beenbroadcastingcontrolledfrom London.


Visit Democratic Left Scotland’s website for news,views, events listings, articles, blogs and downloads

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www.democraticleftscotland.org.uk


particular of those of Robert McLellan, Alastair Reid,Robert Kemp and Donald Campbell.

In 2005 the Association for Scottish Literary Studiespublished Serving Twa Maisters: Five Classic Plays inScots Translation, edited by John Corbett and BillFindlay. In their introduction and appendices theygive us an impressive list of the classical plays whichhave been translated into Scots and produced since1948, the year in which Robert Kemp’s Let Wives TakTent, a translation of Moliere’s L’Ecole des Femmes,was first staged. It includes 30 translations fromAeschylus and Aristophanes to, for instance,Shakespeare, Racine, Chekhov and Ibsen. In additionseveral writers were writing new plays in Scots.Ronald Stevenson in his book Scottish Theatre Sincethe Seventies (published in 1996) says: “It is probablyScots speech that is the most favoured influence ondrama over recent decades.”

Then, of course, there is The Thrie Estaitis, SirDavid Lyndsay’s play, written in the 16th Century andadapted by Robert Kemp for the productions in theEdinburgh Festival in 1948, 1973 and 1985. I havebeen fortunate enough to see all three of them. JoyceMacMillan wrote in the Scotsman of 16th March2007 that they “had an electrifying effect on Scottishaudiences and artists, alerting them to all the huge for-gotten possibilities of the national language and cul-ture.” When Brian McMaster became the director ofthe Edinburgh Festival in 1992, he said in a press con-ference that because of this great success and to givean element of continuity to the Festival, like Everymanin Salzburg, he would stage The Thrie Estaitis everytwo or three years. In fact he never did so, except arather poor modern imitation of it. I used to remindhim of his promise at his annual press conferences toannounce the year’s programme. Finally, after the for-mation of the National Theatre had been announced,he said with an air of relief: “You will not have to waitmuch longer; it’s bound to be one of their first pro-ductions.” We are still waiting.

MYSTERIOUS DELAYThe failure of the Edinburgh Festival to stage TheThrie Estaitis since 1985 is not the only mysteriousdelay in the history of the theatre in Scotland. Aboveall there is the long history of the campaign for theestablishment of our National Theatre. In 1987 as thechairman of the Advisory Council for the Arts inScotland I arranged a conference which was intendedto lead to action at last. I quote from my autobiogra-phy (A Twentieth Century Life, p.257):

“Virtually every theatre in Scotland was represent-ed. The Directors of the National Theatres of Icelandand Finland encouraged us by their experience.Theatre directors, actors and writers all spoke, manyof them, including David Daiches and Tom Flemingwith eloquence and passion. The demand for aNational Theatre was urgent and unanimous. TheChairman of the Scottish Arts Council (SAC), SirAllan Peacock, wrote to me afterwards: ‘No one could

fail to be impressed by the strength of the demand fora National Theatre.’”

FORMATION OF NATIONAL THEATREWe therefore expected early action by the SAC. Theyhad after all financed the Scottish Theatre Companyfor several years and it was widely regarded as apotential National Theatre. It was this company,under the direction of Tom Fleming, which producedThe Thrie Estaitis in 1985. But so far from promotingthe National Theatre, the SAC did the opposite. Theycaused the collapse of the Scottish Theatre Companyby withdrawing its funding and avoided any decisionon the main issue for some years by appointing con-sultants to write unnecessary reports and the like.Finally in December 1999 it was a committee of theScottish Parliament which took action. They invitedthe theatre directors Hamish Glen, Giles Havergal,Kenneth Ireland and myself to give evidence. We allspoke in favour of the formation of a NationalTheatre and the committee recommended this in theirreport. The finance minister announced in September2003 that the National Theatre would go ahead withan initial funding of £7.5 million over two years.

But why had the SAC been so hostile to the idea? Afriend of mine who was a member of their council atthe time told me that the trouble was that the atmos-phere within the SAC was unfriendly to Scottish workfor the theatre. Both the chairman of the drama com-mittee and the head of the department were, he said,anti-Scottish. (Autobiography, p.301) This mayexplain many things, including the FundingAgreement which they drew up to establish theNational Theatre. This required them “to encourage,stimulate and develop new trends”. Not a word aboutrevivals, although the long campaign for its establish-ment had emphasised them. After all, this is an essen-tial function of every national theatre in the world.

John McGrath makes the point about the need forrevivals in a conversation recorded in the book,Scottish Theatre Since the Seventies: “One of the bigproblems with Scottish theatre is that when a play hasbeen done, even in a small hall in Edinburgh, it is con-sidered undoable by any other theatre in the land …There is a huge pile, hundreds of very good plays,which are never done again. It’s quite extraordinary.”Towards the end of the campaign Donald Smithedited a pamphlet, The Scottish Stage, which con-tained a list of a very large number of such plays,mostly from the 20th century. The National Theatreconsidered this list, but at one point said that they didnot intend to stage any of them.

But perhaps we are now in a new age. The SAC hasbeen abolished and replaced by Creative Scotland andthe National Theatre has started to revive plays fromthe past.

� Paul Henderson Scott is a former diplomat. He haswritten a number of books including an auto-biography, A Twentieth Century Life.

The failure oftheEdinburghFestival tostage TheThrie Estaitissince 1985 isnot the onlymysteriousdelay in thehistory of thetheatre inScotland.


BOOK REVIEWS

GLOBALISATIONANDSCOTTISH MIGRATION

The novelty of globalisation hasgreatly been exaggerated inthe early twenty-first century,

by its critics as well as proponents.The international movement ofcapital, goods and people has beena core feature of economic historyfor several hundred years, at least,and certainly throughout theperiod of industrialisation sincethe mid-eighteenth century. Theinternationalisation of economicactivity was especially pronouncedin the nineteenth century, with theinfluence of free trade as an ideol-ogy and practical commercialframework, before the renaissanceof protectionism in the mid-twen-tieth century, the political responseof socialists and social democratsas well as conservatives and thefar-right to world wars and globaldepressions. Hence JimTomlinson, of the University ofDundee, writes about “de-globali-sation” in the twentieth century.Dundee, he argues, was the mostglobalised city in the world in1900, the living standards of itscitizens tied to movements in theprices of two key internationally-traded commodities: food andjute. Over the next centuryDundee became less rather thanmore tied to global economictrends. In the face of overwhelm-ing competition from Calcutta itsjute industry contracted to noth-ing; US capital, with its assemblygoods production jobs, came afterthe Second World War and wentwithin two generations; and publicsector employment, in health and

local authority services, graduallyexpanded to fill the economic“gap”, so that by 2000 the livingstandards of Dundonians werecontingent not on globalisedforces at all, but on the revenue-raising and finance-spending deci-sions of the UK and Scottishgovernments (see Jim Tomlinsonand Christopher Whatley, eds.,Jute No More: TransformingDundee, 2011).

DEINDUSTRIALISATIONGlobalisation has neverthelessadvanced since 1900, in the sensethat the mobility of capital hasbeen enhanced. This is the chiefexplanation – certainly since 1945– of deindustrialisation. Returningto the example of Dundee, Timexand NCR, like other US manufac-turers in a variety of industrial sec-tors, located in Scotland as part ofa corporate strategy designed toenter West European markets. Thisnecessitated disinvestment in USfactories and labour, and so the“re-industrialisation” of Scotland,widening the productive base toinclude electronics and otherassembly manufacturing, involvedan important element of deindus-trialisation in the USA. Capitalthen fled Dundee, thirty to fortyyears later, in pursuit of cheaperlabour, repeating the cycle ofindustrialisation in a developingregion resulting in the deindustri-alisation of a maturing region.Labour, meanwhile, has becomeless mobile than capital. The pro-liferation of controls on human

mobility – passports, entrance andresidence visas, work permits – hasradically reduced the benefits ofglobalisation for workers. Suchobservations are prompted byreflecting on these two new titles,by Tom Devine, recently retiredFraser Professor in ScottishHistory at the University ofEdinburgh, and Pat Kelly, formerSTUC President. Devine examinesthe extraordinary lives of ordinarymigrant Scots: the exiledHighlanders of the Clearances andthe potato famine, and the mili-tary, administrative and commer-cial foot soldiers of formal andinformal empire. There is muchanalysis also of elite figures: theentrepreneurs, the plantation-owners, and the military, politicaland religious leaders who played apioneering role in developing andconsolidating the Scottish globaldiaspora in the eighteenth andthen nineteenth centuries. Kelly’s“radical exports” are the workerswho left Scotland from the 1870sto the 1970s, and became labourleaders – in politics and tradeunionism – in the USA, Canada,Australia and New Zealand. Ineach book the relative ease of pre-twentieth century human move-ment is striking. Establishing aslave plantation in the sugarislands of the West Indies was noeasy undertaking. But there werevery limited legal and politicalcontrols on the movement of indi-vidual entrepreneurs, and thosewith sufficient material and moralresources could transfer their

One of Scotland’s greatest exports over the past few hundredyears has been … people. Jim Phillips explores two booksthat examine the lives of migrant Scots.

To the Ends ofthe Earth:Scotland’sGlobal Diaspora1750–2010TM Devine(Allen Lane, 2011)

Scotland’sRadical Exports:The ScotsAbroad – HowThey ShapedPolitics andTrade UnionsPat Kelly(The GrimsayPress, Glasgow,2011)


activities from the Clyde to theCaribbean. Kelly’s stories are evenmore remarkable, and show thatthe itinerancy of working classorganisation and socialist politics –a familiar theme in the historicalliterature on the internationalexperiences of labour, pre-1914 –had a powerful Scottish dimen-sion. A miner could leave the coal-fields of Scotland, cross theAtlantic from Glasgow to NewYork, working the passage or trav-elling in steerage, and withinweeks be starting a shift under-ground in Pennsylvania. This wasthe experience of Philip Murray,who left Blantyre in 1902 at theage of sixteen, with his father andan international trade union trans-fer card. Murray became an offi-cial with the United Mineworkersof America, organising steelwork-ers as well as coal miners, andmoving to a central position in theUS labour movement, elected in1940 as President of the Congressof Industrial Organisations.

SCOTS PULLED NOT PUSHEDScots were equipped with skillsand facilities that other migrantgroups in North America did notpossess in the nineteenth century.They spoke English, were mainlyliterate and numerate, and accus-tomed to the rhythms of industrialemployment and wage labour.Migrants from Eastern andSouthern Europe were in theserespects relatively disadvantaged.Devine argues that the Scots werecomparatively endowed in anotherway: unlike the Pogrom-era Jewsof the 1880s, or the perenniallyimpoverished and displaced Italianpeasantry, they were not escapinglife-engulfing disaster. In the ter-minology of migration studies,Murray and his peers were“pulled” to the USA by its positiveattractions, rather than “pushed”by dangers at home, arriving ingood health and spirit, and lookingforward with hope rather thanbackward in anguish. But therewas an element of compulsion forsome who left Scotland, drivenfrom their jobs and homes by hos-tile employers and landlords. Anti-

union blacklists operated in thecoalfields and other industrial sec-tors, and it is no exaggeration toinsist that many labour activistswere pushed away from Scotlandby industrial tension and socialconflict, as much as they werepulled to the USA or Canada bybetter wages and more stableemployment. Kelly shows in thissense that some of his migrantScots experienced a form of exile,and the circumstances of theirleaving shaped a hardened sense ofclass consciousness and socialinjustice. This conditioned theirsubsequent trade union and politi-cal activism, although there wereimportant variations across time.In the late nineteenth centuryScots exported to the USA andCanada the class “collaborationist”principles of AlexanderMacDonald’s mining trade union-ism, negotiating a sliding scale ofwages with employers, so thatearnings rose and fell with compa-ny profits. Class consciousness wasstronger, it would appear, amongthose who left for North Americain the 1910s and 1920s, pushed byunemployment and victimisationin Scotland, and pushed again byemployers in the even sharper-edged legal, political and industri-al environment of the USA andCanada. From the coalfields ofPennsylvania and Nova Scotiathese Scots spread westwards, intothe auto plants of Detroit, forexample, and the engineering andiron works of Winnipeg. Then athird generation of Scots followed,pushed by de-industrialisationafter 1945. With the USA nolonger easily open to Europeanimmigrants, this generation waspulled, still, towards Canada, andto Australia, where opportunitieswere embodied in the “£10 pom”travel schemes. Kelly provides anextremely valuable and engaging-ly-written exploration of the vividdetails of migrant lives, politicsand struggles. His book is struc-tured to let the life stories unfold,chronologically, by country of des-tination. So he recounts the historyof Scots in the USA from roughlythe 1870s to the 1950s, then,

returning to the late nineteenthcentury, he explores the history ofScots in Canada, before unfoldingthe history of Scots in Australiaand then New Zealand. This struc-ture makes for some slightly awk-ward transitions. We move, forinstance, from a discussion of theprospects for trade unionism intwenty-first century Canada imme-diately to the armed rising ofminers – or “diggers” – in Victoriain 1854. The narrative structurealso inhibits the elaboration ofimportant, recurring themes,including the role of Scots in theinterplay of workplace and partypolitics, the competing attractionsin working-class politics of socialdemocracy and communism, theengagement of Scots overseas withother migrant groups, the connec-tions retained or re-establishedbetween Scots overseas and home,the changing nature of industrialcampaigning after 1945 as publicsector employment became morepredominant, and, above all per-haps, the thoroughly genderednature of Scotland’s exported radi-calism. Women appear as the sup-porting cast in a tale of more orless heroic men.

SLAVERY AND SCOTLANDDevine’s book is structured the-matically, with chapters organisedaround specific issues and ques-tions. It opens with a survey ofScottish involvement in theempire, from 1750 to 1815, fol-lowed by an examination of therole of slavery in developingScotland’s commercial and indus-trial riches. Scots-owned slaveplantations – tobacco in Virginia,Maryland, and North Carolina,and sugar in the Caribbean islands– contributed directly to Scottishindustrial growth, stimulatingdemand for shipbuilding and ship-ping, as well as a variety of domes-tic and agricultural tools and otherproducts, including food anddrink, that were made in Scotland.The plantations played a substan-tial role too in capital formation,and the subsequent investment inindustrial development that helpedto sustain Scotland’s eminence in

Scots wereequippedwith skillsand facilitiesthat othermigrantgroups inNorthAmerica didnot possessin thenineteenthcentury.


BOOK REVIEWS

textiles, coal, metals and ship-building in the nineteenth century.But Scots also emerged, fromAdam Smith onwards, as critics ofslavery, an affront to free marketeconomics as well as moral senti-ments, and played a leading role inthe loathsome system’s abolition inthe nineteenth century. Otherchapters include analysis of theScots and Irish in the USA, experi-ences in Asia, the relationshipsbetween Scots and the indigenouspeople of the lands they visited,inhabited and in some instancescolonised, and the gradual“eclipse” of imperial privileges andconnections from the late nine-teenth century onwards.

DEBT TO IMPERIALISMThe chronological focus, as inmuch of Devine’s work, includingThe Scottish Nation, 1700–2000(1999) and Scotland’s Empire,1600–1815 (2003), is on thesecond half of the eighteenth cen-tury and the nineteenth century.There is only limited coverage ofthe first half of the twentieth cen-tury, and just eighteen pages on thepost-1945 period, so the 1750–2010 time-frame of the book’ssub-title is a bit of a stretch. The

final chapter on 1945–2010 does,however, pose an important ques-tion: how can we explain the limit-ed recognition in contemporaryScotland of the debt it owes toimperialism? Devine offers threerelated explanations: the ideologi-cal force of the democratic intel-lect idea, which crowds out publicor collective memories of a varietyof politically awkward facts,including imperial enterprise; theemergence from the 1950sonwards of economic and socialproblems, mainly arising fromdeindustrialisation, that preoccu-pied a range of political actors andgroups, from the STUC to theChurch of Scotland, encouraging afocus on domestic Scottish and UKmatters, and discouraging exami-nation of the world more general-ly, and Scotland’s place in it; andthe popular response to theseproblems, namely the leftwardshift of politics from the 1970sonwards, which reinforced thedemocratic intellect’s hegemonicpower, consolidating the concernwith internal Scottish matters, andfurther discouraging an open dis-cussion of the uncomfortable factsof Scotland’s earlier history.Devine is, of course, dissecting

mainstream social democratic-cum-nationalist opinion. So it isimportant to remember that impe-rial amnesia was not universal after1945. The old left and then thenew left confronted imperialism,with Scottish workers asexploiters, however unwitting, aswell as exploited. In this tradition,to conclude, was HamishHenderson’s Freedom Come AllYe, a song written in 1961.Summoning a future where liberat-ed peoples in Africa and else-where, the “Broken faimlies, inlainds we’ve herriet”, would“curse Scotland the Brave naemair, nae mair”, this neatly con-veyed the combination of class ten-sion, industrial development andcolonialism that had structuredglobalisation and Scottish migra-tion across the centuries.

� Jim Phillips is on the ScottishLabour History Society committee,and Senior Lecturer in Economicand Social History at theUniversity of Glasgow. His nextbook, Collieries and Communities:the 1984–5 Miners’ Strike inScotland, is published byManchester University Press inSeptember 2012.

How can weexplain thelimitedrecognitionincontemporaryScotland ofthe debt itowes toimperialism?

Back issues of Perspectives are available online to download in PDF format.www.democraticleftscotland.org.uk


THERISE AND FALLOFTOMMY SHERIDAN

History will record the mostimportant feature of theScottish left over the past 15

years to have been the rise and fallof Tommy Sheridan. No individualdid more to create a vibrant left inScotland and none did more todestroy it. There has been acommon perception that diverseleft-wing parties and movementsin Britain have been dominated bya single individual. This has oftenbeen fostered, if not created, by amedia anxious both to build themup and to knock them down. Butwhile Tommy Sheridan used andwas used by the media in the shap-ing of his personal and politicalcareer, he was first and last his owncreation.

His life and times have been por-trayed in both greater and lesserdetail in two recent biographies.They are very different in style buttell essentially the same story. InDownfall – The Tommy SheridanStory, Alan McCombes writes assomeone who for many years wasconsidered as one of Sheridan’sclosest personal friends and cer-tainly as his most influential politi-cal collaborator. But after 2004,that relationship foundered amidmutual accusations of betrayal,vehemently expressed in twocourts of law. In 2006,McCombes, with others, wasaccused by Sheridan of being a per-jurer while part of a wider conspir-acy led by the leadership of theScottish Socialist Party (SSP) inleague with the News of the World.Sheridan won his case and with it

damages of £200,000. In 2010,McCombes, with others, was awitness as Sheridan was himselfprosecuted for perjury. Sheridanlost and was sentenced to threeyears imprisonment. The yearsbetween the two trials inflictednear-terminal damage upon SSP,created by both Sheridan andMcCombes, and saw the forma-tion and progressive disintegrationof Sheridan’s newly-led and ironi-cally named rival socialist move-ment, Solidarity.

CONTRASTING OPINIONSAn alternative account of both pre-and post-2004 events is given inGregor Gall’s Tommy Sheridan:From Hero to Zero. Gall was closeto Sheridan neither personally norgeographically and, unlikeMcCombes, played a peripheralrole in the creation and leadershipof the SSP. McCombes’s account ofevents is personal, passionate andabove all angry and his highlyreadable text is decorated withlively metaphors. Gall, by contrast,is consciously “academic”, and hepresents himself in stolid prose asdetached from events that thenand now provoke vitriolicinternecine conflict. In this hecannot succeed. One prevalentopinion portrays Sheridan as ahypocritical liar who sacrificed thecause of socialism and his relation-ships with his closest friends andcolleagues on the altar of his vault-ing personal ambition. Anotherperceives him as the “victim” of anunholy alliance between a treason-

ous group of envious so-called“socialists” and that archetypalenemy of “the class”, RupertMurdoch. Since Gall dismisses thelatter view he will inevitably becondemned by those who continueto espouse it.

Both writers expoundSheridan’s virtues as he rose tobecome Scotland’s most promi-nent socialist. Emerging from theranks of Militant, he became aleading figure in the anti-poll taxmovement. Immensely energetic,he used his formidable oratoricalgifts to advocate the abolition ofwarrant sales and was willing to bearrested and imprisoned for directaction in the same cause. His abili-ty to connect and work withsocialists of diverse tendenciesassisted him in the construction in1996 of the Scottish SocialistAlliance which by 1999 hadevolved into the SSP. As an electedGlasgow councillor and then as itsfirst MSP, he was the Party’s natu-ral leader, skillful at working withother socialist activists and assidu-ous in his courting of a mediawhich reciprocated by giving him apublic profile that was often atodds with the political predisposi-tions of both newspaper editorsand their correspondents. For theDaily Record in December 1998,for example, “Citizen Tommy”, asGall reports, was: “Long, lean andhandsome, deep tan, perfect com-plexion, the eyes are deep pools ofintegrity … the Robin Hood ofScottish politics … present in everypeople’s protest in the last decade– warrant sales, council cuts, watercharges, the M77.”

WORKING CLASS ROOTSBut unlike Robin Hood, to whom“history” usually imputed a noblelineage, Sheridan’s backgroundwas firmly rooted in a workingclass family with a militant socialisttradition. Alice, his influentialmother, was a notable Glasgowactivist in her own right – though,as her son rose to prominence, sheincreasingly imputed to him theattributes of a modern-dayMessiah. Moreover, his early polit-ical activities, described in detail

Downfall –The TommySheridan StoryAlan McCombes(Berlinn, 2011)

TommySheridan: FromHero to ZeroGregor Gall(Welsh AcademicPress, 2012)

The spectacular fall of Scotland’s mostprominent socialist of recent times has produceda plethora of material trying to make sense of theman and his motives. Brian Pollitt reviews twoaccounts of the Sheridan story.


by Gall, were exercised in some ofthe less salubrious parts ofGlasgow. His longstanding friendand “minder” George McNeilage,while campaigning in one ofGlasgow’s most notorious“schemes”, reported that Tommyhad (unwisely and without consul-tation) encouraged people toreport a gangland family to thepolice. Gall notes that: “Fearingbeing shopped and losing territory,George had a gun put to his headand was hung upside down by hisankles from the top of a towerblock by associates of this family.This led to a gun with silencerbeing acquired by Tommy via hiscontact with (now reformed)Glasgow gangster, Paul Ferris. Toadd to the drama, the car in whichTommy was carrying the gun (inthe boot) was stopped by police ina routine check as it made its wayacross Glasgow.” (Gall, p. 44, note97). So on one occasion at least,the Daily Record’s “Robin Hood”also equipped himself with a 20thcentury equivalent of a bow andarrow.

SEEDS OF CONFLICTSheridan’s position as undisputedleader of the SSP always maskedinternal seeds of conflict and insta-bility. Central to this were theCommittee for a Workers’International (CWI) and theSocialist Workers Party (SWP).Tightly organised London-based“platforms” within the SSP, theysquabbled among themselves as towhich was the authentic inheritorof the mantle of Leon Trotsky, butthey were united in opposing afundamental objective of the SSP –namely Scottish independence.Moreover, while Sheridan andothers found international inspira-tion in the Cuban Revolution withtheir hero figure being CheGuevara, for the CWI Cuba’s rev-olution was “deformed” while theSWP advocated Castro’s over-throw in a workers’ insurrection.And Che was comprehensivelydenounced by Mike Gonzalez, theSWP’s best known theoretician inScotland. McCombes, throughouthis book, expresses a contemptu-

ous hostility towards both theCWI and SWP that was evidentlyexacerbated by their pro-Sheridanrole after 2004. Gall’s appraisal ofthe significance of both organisa-tions within the SSP, by contrast, islimited and much milder, perhapsreflecting his own membership ofthe SWP up to 2004. (He notes hisresignation then to have beenbased on his perception that theSWP was an “ultra left, and oftensectarian, organisation”. Gall,p.348.)

CAVALIER DISREGARDIn the Holyrood elections of 2003,five new SSP MSPs rode on thecoat-tails of Tommy’s popularityto join him in the Parliament. Ofthese, three were women laterdescribed by Tommy as the “covenof witches”. But that lay in a futurethat was to bring increasing doubtsas to Tommy’s true stature both asan individual and a leader. Some ofthis was not new. It had long beenknown that, while a member ofMilitant, Tommy had cut a swathethrough the ranks of its moreattractive women. And at times hehad shown a cavalier disregard forthe advice of colleagues if this con-flicted with his own preferredcourse. Rank and file members ofthe SSP knew little of this, howev-er, until November 2004.

On 31 October 2004, the Newsof the World (NOW) reported viaits “lusty … sex columnist AnvarKhan” that a “Married MSP is aSpanking Swinger”. She describeda visit to Cupid’s, a Manchestersex club, in the company of theunnamed MSP and three others. Acouple of years previously, Tommyhad already admitted to both AlanMcCombes and another close col-league, Keith Baldassara, that hehad visited this club. His responseto the alarm they now expressedwas to assert that this more recentvisit could not be proved.McCombes and Baldassara arguedthat he should admit his infidelity,apologise and move on. After thematter had been discussed withothers in the SSP leadership, an ECmeeting was convened for 9November. At that meeting, a pro-

posal that Tommy deny theNOW’s allegations was defeatedby 16 votes to nil. An alternativeproposal, to comply with his strat-egy of denial, mustered only 4votes in favour. The meetingagreed that Tommy would stepdown as Party convenor, treadingthe well-worn path of “spendingmore time with his family”.

That Tommy now rejected theadvice given by such an over-whelming number of his col-leagues, including his closestfriends and long-time collabora-tors, and proceeded to sue theNOW for defamation, set inmotion a series of events that wereto dominate left-wing political dis-cussion in Scotland for the next sixyears. For his critics, Tommy’saction was simply that of a gam-bler, reflecting an arrogant confi-dence in his ability to surmountany obstacle. And while GregorGall dissents from what he regardsas the excessive emphasis placedby McCombes and others onTommy’s “rampant egotism”, it ishard to distinguish that view fromhis own observation of Tommy’s“internal self-belief system andoutward persona … of omnipo-tence and omniscience” (p.322).Equally important, however, wasTommy’s stubbornness. For Lenin,tenacity was a virtue for a revolu-tionary but stubbornness was avice – and Tommy was stubborn inspades. He also lacked foresightbut was capable of “winging it” inad hoc fashion as a changing sce-nario forced successive modifica-tions to his account of events.

MISPLACED FAITH In the first place, and based onexaggerations and inaccuracies inthe NOW’s story, he’d predictedthat it would back down from adefamation trial. It declined toaccommodate him. Moreover,he’d certainly failed to envisagethat the ensuing libel action of2006 would see his principal col-leagues in the SSP leadership testi-fying against him. He was later tolament his misplaced faith in the“loyalty” of some of his comrades– but by this he meant an uncondi-

On oneoccasion atleast, theDailyRecord’s“RobinHood” alsoequippedhimself witha 20thcenturyequivalent ofa bow andarrow.

BOOK REVIEWS


tional personal loyalty to him thatwas entirely divorced from any ofthe principles of political integrityespoused by the SSP. And thenthere was the matter of how hewas to accommodate his denial ofmisdemeanours that the NOWalleged that he’d committed withthe detailed minutes of theNovember EC meeting at whichhe’d confessed to them.

PERSONAL INTERESTSHis solution to all such difficultieswas to identify whatever coursepresented itself to him as mostlikely to serve his narrow personalinterests irrespective of whether itbore any relationship to questionsof political principle or personalhonesty. As leaked to his friendsboth within and without themedia, his SSP opponents were anenvious, gender-obsessed cabal,conspiring to overthrow him andprepared to work hand in glovewith Murdoch’s evil empire thenset on destroying Scotland’s lead-ing socialist. Accompanying such adefence was a joint venture withthe SWP, the CWI and the so-called “Sheridanistas” to wrestback control of the SSP and restoreSheridan to his proper place as itsundisputed leader. To this end, hisallies were mobilised to dominatean emergency national councilmeeting held on 28 May 2006. Inan atmosphere of unprecedentedacrimony – it became known tothe SSP leadership as “the NCfrom Hell” – the pro-Sheridan fac-tion succeeded in passing motionsoverthrowing key decisions of theNovember 2004 EC by urging“full political support” forSheridan in his libel action againstthe NOW. Sheridan’s personalcontribution to the discussion wasa diatribe against his opponentsthat included the charge that aleading woman SSP member had“almost been responsible for thedeath of my wife and my unbornbaby”. The NOW legal team hadbeen supported by the Court ofSession in its request for the min-utes of the November 2004 ECmeeting. At that meeting, the EChad acceded to Tommy’s request

that the minutes not be publishedand at the time of the May 2006NC, Alan McCombes was inprison for refusing to surrenderthem. In one of a number of voltefaces, Tommy now successfullyurged that the minutes of theNovember EC meeting be handedover. For some at the time thatseemed a puzzle since Tommy’sown SSP branch had urged, in arequest circulated on Tommy’sown parliamentary email account,that these selfsame minutes bedestroyed. The puzzle was to besolved during the libel trial whenthe original minutes weredenounced as a forgery and analternative version produced thatdenied Tommy’s admission of hisvisits to Cupid’s.

In mid-June 2006 – a monthbefore the libel trial began – theEC took one further key decision.By then, those members who hadsigned the original minutes hadbeen cited by the NOW to appearas witnesses and the EC deter-mined, by a vote of 17 to 2 withone abstention, that those cited“should not lie or commit con-tempt of court”. The “politicalsupport” demanded at the “NCfrom Hell” was not thus to includecommitting perjury.

DEAD IN THE CLYDEThe nature and outcome of thelibel trial itself are sufficiently wellknown as not to require anylengthy treatment here. After someinitial professional skirmishes,Tommy sacked his legal team andconducted his own assault on theNOW, his aggressive cross-exami-nation of all its witnesses allegingthat they either perjured them-selves for money or were part ofan SSP political vendetta againsthim. His own star witness was hiswife, Gail, whose theatrical per-formance included her assertionthat he himself would have beendead in the Clyde had she believedany tale of his infidelity. Her testi-mony had an evidently tellingimpact on the jury. Moreover, pre-cisely because he had chosen toconduct his own case, the Courtgave him much leeway to focus

less on whether he had or had notattended Cupid’s and more on thegeneral mendacity of the NOWand the financial incentives it hadgiven to some of the non-SSP wit-nesses. To general surprise –including that of Sheridan himself– the jury found in his favour by avote of 7 to 4, awarding him dam-ages totaling £200,000.

VENOMOUS ATTACKSAny prospect of reconciliationbetween Sheridan and the SSPleadership, already slim givenTommy’s venomous attacksagainst “the plotters”, was dashedas Tommy celebrated his victory ina well-paid tabloid article bydamning his opponents as “scabs”that he was going to “destroy”.Prior to the trial, pro- and anti-Sheridan factions had alreadyformed as the “SSP Majority” andthe “United Left”, respectively.The former appeared organisedonly to sign their supportive mis-sion statement. The United Left,on the other hand, gathered inboth Glasgow and Edinburgh,their meetings celebrating theabsence of any “leader”. Tommynow sought to recapture control ofthe SSP at its next annual confer-ence, and agreed this with his per-sonal allies and the CWI and SWP.For Gall, Tommy had “outplayedand outmanoeuvred” the SSP lead-ership ever since November 2004.For his part, McCombes agreedthat Tommy’s relative freedom ofaction up to 2006 had been shapedby the EC’s unwillingness immedi-ately to publish the minutes of theNovember 2004 EC whiledenouncing Tommy’s reaction tothe EC’s majority decision andeffectively expelling him from theSSP. Such reticence gave Tommyample room to spread whateverstories he liked about inner-Partyenmities in alliance withMurdoch’s “evil empire”. Butdespite all this, and despite theapparent superiority in number ofhis “SSP Majority” over the“United Left”, he had failed tocapture the support of the majori-ty of the SSP’s branch activists.These had been well-briefed on the

Tommycelebratedhis victory ina well-paidtabloidarticle bydamning hisopponents as“scabs” thathe was goingto “destroy”.


proceedings of the November2004 EC as soon as Tommy’s overthostile recalcitrance became clear.Tommy counted up the number ofbranches he could rely on to electsupportive delegates to an upcom-ing NC and a national conference.The total fell well short of thenumber he needed. It was then theturn of the CWI and SWP to famil-iarise themselves with Tommy’scavalier disregard for prior consul-tation and agreement. As his alliesplotted just how they would pro-ceed to take over the SSP, Tommyinformed them that he’d decidedinstead to form a quite new politi-cal movement, i.e. Solidarity.

The split that followed Tommy’ssuccessful 2006 libel action did notbring electoral success forSolidarity. On the contrary, theprevailing public attitude to thebitter internecine fighting betweenthe SSP and Solidarity appeared tobe “a plague on both your houses”.This was reflected in the deterio-rating electoral performance ofboth organisations between 2006and 2010, including Tommy’s lossof his seat in the parliament. TheSSP struggled to reorganise as itsincreasingly precarious financesforced the shedding of both full-and part-time workers. Tommymeanwhile proceeded to promotehimself not so much as a socialistpolitician but as a “celebrity”. Buthis performances as a comic enter-tainer in Edinburgh failed toimpress either critics or audiencesand an appearance on “CelebrityBig Brother” did nothing to halt adiminishing public respect.

POLICE INVESTIGATIONThe public activities of both theSSP and Solidarity after the 2006libel action were overshadowed bya well-publicised police investiga-tion. This arose out of the trialjudge’s observations that the starkconflict of evidence presentedbefore him meant that a number ofwitnesses had evidently committedperjury. Furthermore, outraged notleast by Tommy’s denunciation ofleading SSP members as “scabs”,George McNeilage sold to theNOW a videotape in which Tommy

combined a confession of hisdiverse sexual pecadillos with afoulmouthed assault on a numberof his erstwhile SSP comrades. Thepublicity given to this tape, vettedfor authenticity by the NOW, tiltedthe police investigation decisivelyagainst Sheridan and a number ofthe witnesses he had called in2006, including his wife. Thoughoft-postponed, and with several ofthose initially charged having theircases withdrawn, the trial for per-jury of Tommy and Gail Sheridanfinally began at the High Court inGlasgow in October 2010.

BRIEFS DROPPEDThe nationally publicised criminaltrial of Tommy and Gail Sheridanwas accompanied by Tommy’sunfailing inability to see anyoneother than himself as adequate toconduct his own defence. As inele-gantly put in one tabloid, “TommyDrops his Briefs – Again” asDonald Findlay QC was disposedof prior to the trial and MaggieScott QC a week after it had begun.This time the SSP witnesses knewwhat to expect and matchedTommy’s cross examinations withan aggression of their own. Oncemore, given that Tommy was con-ducting his own defence, he wasgiven considerable latitude by thetrial judge to pursue matters distantfrom the specific charges againsthim. This was notably expressed byTommy’s exhaustive expositions ofthe sins of the NOW rather than amore concentrated refutation ofcharges concerned specifically withhis visits to Cupid’s or an affairwith the Danish SSP activistKatrine Trolle. A highlight of hisdefence was, as it had to be, hisnegation of the veracity ofMcNeilage’s videotape. Prior tothe trial, he had asserted that whilethe voice recorded was indeed his,it had been spliced together, proba-bly with the involvement of boththe British and US security services.But he now proposed that it was allperformed by an actor, to a scriptwritten by Alan McCombes.Meanwhile, Gail Sheridan’slawyer, the late Paul McBride QC,made mincemeat of a witness

alleged to have organised an orgyin which Sheridan had taken partin Glasgow’s Moat House Hotel.The prosecution consequentiallydropped all charges against Tommyrelating to this event and, sincesome perjury charges against Gailconcerned alibis she’d givenTommy relating to it, went on todecide that “the public interest”would not be served by proceedingfurther with any charges againsther. At the time this was widelyregarded as a victory for Tommybut it was no such thing. Itremoved from the case the loyalmother of Tommy’s young childand who had, moreover, been pur-sued in the pre-trial police investi-gation with unseemly vigour.Closing for the Crown, Tommy’sevidence was forensically anddestructively dissected by the pros-ecution and Tommy sensiblydeclined to present himself forcross-examination. His own clos-ing speech was a lengthy and emo-tional assault on diverse forces ofdarkness and concluded with atear-jerking appeal to the jury notto separate him from his wife anddaughter for the Christmas he’dpromised they’d spend together.He did not quite manage to pull itoff, although one semi-literatejuror took to Facebook todenounce the narrow majority ofjurors who’d failed to see Tommyas an innocent man. The Judge,Lord Bracadale, ensured that theSheridans could indeed spendChristmas together, sentencingSheridan to three years imprison-ment in January 2011.

PERSONAL VANITYWith Tommy’s departure forBarlinnie it was inevitable thatmany analysts would focus on howa man of his undoubted talentsshould fall so far, while wreakingas he did so such destruction onthe Scottish left. Gregor Gallappears to be no great admirer ofAlan McCombes’s version, sug-gesting it held “little self-critique”while seeming to be the account ofa “somewhat jilted or spurnedlover”. This seems harsh givenMcCombes’s ready acknowledge-

It wasinevitablethat manyanalystswould focuson how aman of hisundoubtedtalentsshould fall sofar, whilewreaking ashe did sosuchdestructionon theScottish left.

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ment that the SSP leadershipshould have taken a more ruthlessand resolute approach shortly afterthe EC of November 2004. But itis fair to note that the most promi-nent SSP leaders were content notonly to permit but promoteTommy’s role as their undisputedindividual leader since his widerpopularity redounded to the bene-fit of the SSP as a whole. Theirpromotion of him included theselfless organisational spadeworkthat underpinned public eventsand constituency matters forwhich Tommy took an easy credit.And, too, there were the manypublished articles ghosted byMcCombes himself that conferredupon Tommy a greater political

and theoretical breadth than he infact possessed. There is no doubtthat the willingness of his col-leagues to subordinate themselvesin such ways contributed to thedevelopment of a personal vanitythat could see him photographedby the press at home, seated with-out shame beneath the portraits ofRabbie Burns, Che Guevara and –who else? – Tommy Sheridan. Butdid any of this explain theunscrupulous, vengeful and hypo-critical character traits that were sodramatically to emerge afterNovember 2004? Perhaps the sim-plest answer is that the EC meetingof that month and that year wasthe first occasion on which TommySheridan was confronted with a

personal and political outcomethat he found entirely unaccept-able and his visceral response wasto bend all his other well-knowntalents in the pursuit of a coursethat ultimately proved – as he wasadvised at the time – to be person-ally self destructive. The widertragedy is that it has also been sodestructive of a promising modernbase for the advance of socialistpolitics in Scotland.

� Brian Pollitt is Honorary SeniorResearch Fellow at GlasgowUniversity. He edited TheDevelopment of Socialist EconomicThought – Selected Essays byMaurice Dobb (Lawrence &Wishart, 2008).

SSP leaderswere contentto permitpromoteTommy’s roleas theirundisputedindividualleader sincehis widerpopularityredoundedto the benefitof the SSP asa whole.


MY TURN TO BEMAYORAGAIN, JEEVES

Bertie Wooster was decidedly out of sorts. He hadthe look of a man who, having promised hisnewts that they would reclaim City Hall and

that the amphibians would have the run of the placeunmolested by Tory sharks and Liberal Democratangel fish, is obliged to inform them that after allthey will be spending the next four years in his bathagain. Even his biographer, P Jeeves Wodehouse,seemed to have turned against him.

“Hang it all, Jeeves”, said Wooster, “I thought youwere supposed to be on my side.”

“Side, sir?”“I’ve been reading the new book, Jeeves, and it

makes deucedly uncomfortable reading, I don’t mindtelling you. Unless I’ve been reading the AndyCoulson version, Gussie Finknottle is mayor again.How did Gussie Finknottle become the hero of theBertie Wooster stories?”

“I believe that many people think of them as Jeevesstories, sir”, said Jeeves.

Wooster pressed on, as unmindful of Wodehouse’sdemur as the Greek of the Bundesbank. “Finknottleis just a toff in clown’s clothing. And he’s so lazy,Jeeves. What was that guff of Byron’s about fillingthe unforgiving minute with thirty seconds worth ofdistance run?”

Jeeves coughed discreetly. “I believe it was Kipling,sir, and reason insists that the unforgiving minutewould demand sixty seconds of energetic activity.”

They were interrupted by a blond hurricane. It wasthe metaphor himself. Sorry; mayor.

“What ho, Jeeves! Have I got news for you! I say,Wooster, you haven’t seen the aunts, have you?”

“This would be your Aunt David and Aunt Georgethat you’re running away from, would it?”

“And Aunt Nick. She’s only an aunt by marriage,but still …”

“Don’t worry, Finknottle. You’re running wellahead of them.”

“In the polls, Wooster, only in the polls. On thehoof they can put on a prodigious turn of speed whenthey’re waxy.”

“What news, sir?” said Jeeves, hovering like an airambulance over the motorway pile-up of EdMiliband’s ambitions.

“What?”

“You said you had news for me, sir. What news?”“No, it’s sort of a catch phrase, you see. I’m trying

it out. It was dreamed up by my press secretary,Harry the Git.”

“I think that would be Guto Hari, sir, late of theReform Club.”

“Anyway, I just came from Number Ten.”“And?”“As Walter Pater said, for evil to triumph it is

necessary only to go into coalition with it.”“Burke, sir.”“No need to be like that, Jeeves. The thing is, I’m a

lot more popular than the aunts so I can’t afford tobe seen with them.” Finknottle looked about as keenon the prospect of consorting with his party titans asa shareholders meeting is on approving directors’bonuses.

“It is a dilemma, sir.”“I need to distance myself from the aunts’

unpopularity until the whole bally house of cardsgoes tits up and the cry goes up: send for Gussie.”

“And then you will ascend like the lark to thePeacock Throne”, said Bertie.

Finknottle adopted the cunning mien of the man ina fuel shortage who hides a jerry can of petrol inFrancis Maude’s garage. “They’ll turn on themselveslike rats in a sack and when the dust clears I will bethe one-legged man in the country of the publicaccess bicycle.”

“Who was it said the Tory party was lower thanvermin, Jeeves?”

“Almost everybody, sir. So if I understand thematter at hand, Mr Finknottle requires a place ofrefuge where the Conservative writ does not fly.”

“Exactly, Jeeves. Any ideas?”“Have you considered Scotland, sir?”

Author’s note: When I began this piece I had everyintention of conflating Baroness Warsi with theEmpress of Blandings, but it just didn’t come up. I’dbe obliged if you could treat this as a sort of flat-packIKEA project and construct the joke for yourselves.

� Tim Haigh is a critic, reviewer and broadcaster. Hispodcasts on books and literature are available onlineat http://timhaighreadsbooks.com/

Finknottleadopted thecunning mienof the man ina fuelshortagewho hides ajerry can ofpetrol inFrancisMaude’sgarage.

Tim Haigh reveals that the outcome of theLondon mayoral election in May caused not alittle consternation in the Wooster household.

DIARY


About 12 years ago when myfull time occupation wasrunning (after) the Ceilidh

Place in Ullapool, I had atelephone call from Gerry Hassanasking if we would considerpromoting the book A DifferentFuture: A Moderniser’s Guide toScotland, edited by himself andChris Warhurst.

Now I should explain that abook launch in Ullapool cannot bethe kind of event that might takeplace in one of the large bookstores in a city centre. In the firstplace, our bookshop is one of thesmallest and secondly a book ofpolitical analysis and essays mightnot attract too many folk. All ofthat apart, we are always keen tohave a go and agreed to anevening event in early December.The day dawned dark andforeboding with thick snowflakesfalling fast. By noon we hadblizzard conditions.

I thought we should probablycancel and tried to telephoneGerry to advise against driving up.But it was too late as they hadalready left Glasgow and were ontheir way.

In advertising the event we hadoffered (by way of addedincentive) mulled wine andsausage rolls and invited localpolitical party members whomight have a particular interest inthe book. By 8.30pm and kick offtime, we knew that both Gerryand Gordon Guthrie had travelledup the west coast route and hadreached Inverness. It was stillsnowing. They drove on.

By the time they arrived, hadsome food and started thepresentation, the mulled wine wasalmost finished and the twenty orso souls who had come along wereby now “warmed up”.

The discussion led byGerry generated much

debate about Scotland andpolitics and although a few folk

headed out into the snow in theearly hours of the morning, othersstayed for breakfast. It was justone of those nights. I don’tremember if we actually sold anybooks.

What I do remember wasagreeing with Gerry and Gordonthat a weekend of talking arounddifferent issues with someinspirational speakers to stimulatedebate and discussion was an ideaworth developing.

Changin’ Scotland is the resultof these two guys braving theblizzard that night and takes placetwice a year over a weekend inMarch and November.

We recently had our nineteenthsuch event and the first with thetheme of Independence. The BigDebate (eat your heart out BrianTaylor) was introduced by JamesMitchell, Professor ofGovernment at Stirling University.And over the course of the nextday and a half, issues of theconstitution, interdependence,economics, social justice, trident,civic Scotland and Donald Trumpwere subjects of presentation anddiscussion. Party politics were leftaside and that continues to be thestrength of Changin’ Scotland.Members of all parties and noneassemble and take part in genuineexchange of ideas and beliefs.

I do acknowledge that there areconferences and seminars heldaround the country every week,mostly promoted by the relevantindustry or commercial eventsmanagement organisations. But itdoes seem that there is a bit of agap in the market for lay people,who have a general interest in themyriad of issues that, even if notaffecting them directly, aresignificant to the future of thecountry and how that makes usfeel about living here.

On at least three days of theweek in the Scottish Parliamentthere are meetings and receptionsheld by different organisationspromoting and updating on the

work that they do. There arecross-party working groupsreflecting diverse interests andkeen to keep politicians abreast ofdevelopments in these differentsectors. There is Scotland’sFutures Forum which organises aprogramme of events in theparliament. Lesley Riddoch’sorganisation Nordic Horizons hasattracted good attendance andsupport for the proposal thatScotland could and should alignitself as a Nordic countryreflecting on best practice ofdevolving power and governanceto smaller communities. All goodstuff. And yet, and yet.

Could this be the very timewhen we need to stimulate thesedebates across the country? Andhow is this to be managed and bywhom? It isn’t practical to suggestthat people come to theparliament for such discussions,well, not if you live in Shetland orWick or even Glasgow.

Public video conferencing, ormore live web-casting could help– and that from meetings outwithEdinburgh, but beaming back tothe parliament … or the pub?Inspirational communities likeEigg showing their achievementsto folk in Danderhall and viceversa, Govan to Campbeltown.Maybe it’s late and I’m gettingfanciful but Scotland is a smallcountry and surely, when we canknow what is happening in Syriaor the Falklands (some of what ishappening at any rate) we couldcapture the imagination by betterunderstanding some of what isgoing on here?

Scotland is full of people whoare working in their communitiesand making extraordinary thingshappen. Scotland has individualswith knowledge and expertise thatcan enlighten and challenge ourthinking. How can we share thisto everybody’s advantage? Ideason a postcard …

� Jean Urquhart is an SNP MSPrepresenting Highlands and Islandsand is managing director ofCeilidh Places Ltd, which she hasrun since 1972.

Jean Urquhart donsThe Hat to reflect on12 years of Changin’Scotland.

Party politicswere leftaside andthatcontinues tobe thestrength ofChangin’Scotland.Members ofall partiesand noneassembleand take partin genuineexchange ofideas andbeliefs.

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Tom Nairn argues for the - WordPress.comSinging the South African anti-Apartheid song Freedom is Coming at the separation wall in Bethlehem, a young man driving past stopped his car