Memo to Alex Salmond. No matter what you do with the independence referendum – no matter which questions are asked, who is deemed eligible and where they currently live – please don’t hold it on the 700th anniversary of the Battle of Bannockburn.
Of course, it’s tempting to pile on the symbolic pressure as David Cameron threatens, Baroness Taylor blunders (does Labour really think the accident of birth should trump residency in voting entitlement?) and Michael Forysth mocks: “The idea we should decide the fate of the UK on … the date of a medieval battle … would be laughable if it wasn’t so serious.”
Nowhere near as laughable as being told what to do by unelected Lords and a Prime Minister with no democratic mandate in Scotland. The SNP is currently keeping faith with the broad terms of a referendum proposal endorsed by the Scottish electorate as recently as last May. By contrast, the nakedly self-serving, illogical and bullying objections coming from supporters of the Union are enough to make any self-respecting Scot feel embarrassed to be on their side, whatever their actual views on independence.
The only place where Alex Salmond’s moral compass is looking wobbly is on the rumoured choice of a “medieval battle” date for the big vote.
Why? Well do you know the date offhand? Precisely.
Bannockburn is not currently embedded in Scotland’s popular culture, so its selection by the SNP is “top-down,” stodgily predictable and needlessly provocative.
Let me concede immediately that history is written by the victors and since the victorious UK plc has been shaping the “official version” of history for centuries, it’s no surprise that significant “Scottish” events are not uppermost in “well-educated” Scottish minds. It’s also true that events can be important without being memorable. What date did Scotland’s smoking ban commence? What day did Hugh MacDiarmid die? What day did the Metagama set sail for America?
And yet, with most suppressed peoples, precisely the opposite occurs. Forced to toe the line of “national” cultural events that fail to resonate, alternative “people’s” celebrations normally kick in fast. Thus May Day was not just an eloquent and widely celebrated salute to international solidarity, it was also a spirited rebuff to capitalism. As soon as it was attended by more journalists than members of the National Miners Union, its potency was past and no amount of “official support” could restore it. That problem is doubly true of 24 June because the date English armies were sent packing by Robert the Bruce has never entered Scotland’s “alternative” calendar in the first place. And in a country ready to celebrate anyone who kicks authority where it hurts, that’s some non-achievement.
Clearly Alex Salmond likes significant dates – though “Free by 93” was more alliteratively memorable than politically successful. But choosing 24 June 2014 to hold Scotland’s independence referendum could be an uncharacteristic error.
Personally speaking, I don’t want to “a statement” about war, victory, bloodshed, Robert the Bruce, Proud Edward’s army, us, them or the English the day I cast my referendum vote. The crass obviousness of being made to decide on Scotland’s future the day it once fought and beat the English sullies the whole referendum proposition. Can Scots not be trusted to make their decision in a calm, rational, hopeful way?
2012 itself could be a bigger deciding year than 2013 (the 500th anniversary of Scotland’s worst ever military defeat at Flodden Field) or 2014 itself (Bannockburn, Commonwealth Games and Ryder Cup) as “Britishness” takes centre stage.
If the London Olympics and the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee are held with the usual London-centric focus, accompanied by choruses of Jersusalem, Roll Out The Barrel and the sort of xenophobic commentary that prompts Celtic alienation every time England qualifies for the World Cup, I’d guess some Scots will quietly conclude that another 300 years of union with “Little England” isn’t worth the candle. On the other hand, if the British Olympics miraculously avoid becoming London’s jamboree (paid for by everyone else’s taxes) it’ll be a significant triumph for the Union. If the Olympics are capped (or preceded) by the announcement of Britain’s biggest ever infrastructure project – an English-only high speed rail link – the real priorities of the Westminster government will be under scrutiny in a way Alex Salmond could never engineer. Is the UK government working for the economic benefit of Britain or just the south of England?
Depending on how these big cultural events and spending decisions are handled, 2012 could be the year many Scots decide whether Britishness does still work for them.
All of which brings us back to that vexed referendum date.
Importance self-selects in any society. That indeed is the beauty of national culture. We may be taught Keats and Shakespeare but can also recite Burns, MacCaig and MacDiarmid. We may watch X-Factor but still attend Celtic Connections in our tens of thousands. We are taught what’s important and then choose what really matters. And it matters that we currently choose not to celebrate the battle of Bannockburn.
In 1905, Norwegians were forced by the King of Sweden to hold a referendum before the two nations parted company. 368,211 Norwegians voted for separation – 184 against. So does Norway’s widely celebrated National Day commemorate that resounding referendum result? No it doesn’t. National Day is 17 May 1814. That day, a century earlier, Norwegians declared independence from Denmark and defiantly published the most radical constitution in Europe before being forced into 90 years of rule by Sweden. Powerful, popular, symbolic dates don’t commemorate bloody battles and conflicts past. They speak of moments where a nation lifts itself into existence. So what is Scotland’s 17 May? What political achievement by Scots makes us lift our heads in forward-looking pride? What poetic statement of belief inspires us year after year?
There is only one real candidate for Scotland’s National Day – 25 January, the day Robert Burns was born.
Ah, but the winter! If the tawdry reality of low turnout matters more than symbolic resonance, then why not hold the referendum on a convenient, significant but battle-free day – like 21 June?
In 2014, the longest day falls on a Saturday – Shopping Day, Sports Day, Big Night Out Day and Football Day – all rolled into one. Mammon versus Destiny. A big, brave and truly symbolic date for a big, brave constitutional choice.
What about commemorating the Declaration of Arbroath? Not just a declaration of Scottish independence but also (arguably) an early assertion of popular sovereignty, or at least of a contract between ruler and ruled. And its anniversary, 6 April, is a bit warmer than January!
Posted by: English James | January 13, 2012 at 09:32 PM