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In April 1945, at Motherwell, Scottish Nationalist Robert MacIntyre was elected to Parliament, and though he was defeated shortly after in the
General Election, it was clear that a new spirit was afoot in Scotland. A reaction to the vast increase in the central power of the State that had accumulated during the war was inevitable now that peace had returned.
By 1948, there was a resurgence of Scottish Nationalist feeling. A Scottish Covenant of that year containing hundreds of thousands of signatures called for a Scottish Parliament. Two years later, in a daring
midnight raid, the Stone of Scone, the ancient symbol of Scottish royalty (upon which the medieval kings of Scotland had been crowned) found itself kidnapped from under the Coronation Chair at Westminster Abbey, where
it had rested uncomfortably since 1297. The daring deed, student prank or not, showed only too well that it was high time the Government at Westminster paid more attention to the needs of the Scottish people.
Following the interruption caused by World War II, in which all areas of Britain once again united in the face of a common, slow resentment at the strengthening of Westminster's grip on Scottish affairs continued to
smolder. After the bloodletting and economic hardships of the war, it was taking too long for things to return to normal. The loss of Empire that followed the heady victory celebrations, and the period of
austerity and gloom that lasted for years in the so-called Welfare State created by the Socialist government did much to cancel the general euphoria created and sustained by the very idea of "Britishness." The
Labour Government of Clement Attlee came into power mainly because of war weariness. All areas of the country, including Scotland (where the Liberals did not gain a single seat) supported it, at the expense of the
Conservatives. During its tenure, in which thousands of Britons sought for a better life overseas, the nation was forced inwards, to re-examine both its own role in history and its role in the future. It had been the
Empire, under its portraits of a benevolent monarch, as often as not weaing the tartan, that had welded Britain into a nation state. However, the Empire was disintegrating rapidly. All over the globe, former colonies
were seeking and gaining independence. Maps that showed almost one third of the world colored red for British now had to be redrawn and recolored and countries renamed. The birth of new nation states overseas now raised
the question of nation states at home. At first this was subdued, even hidden, in the carrying out of the generally well-supported socialist revolution of the Labour Government in which "the Welfare State"
replaced much that had been traditional in all areas of British life. In these times, socialist leaders from both Wales and Scotland abhorred the thought of separation. Gradually, the struggles of the war years began
to dim into distant memory, but the promised Utopia of the Labour Government did not come about. As a university student looking for hard-to-find lodgings, the author remembers having to produce his ration book in the
mid-fifties and walking through rubble in towns such as Swansea and Liverpool which were so slow in rebuilding. There was much greater progress on the Continent, and though the rebuilding of Europe meant an initial boom
for British, and particularly Scottish industries, "real" prosperity was an awfully long time in coming, especially when one compared progress in Britain with what was happening in West Germany. Yet in
retrospect, the relatively affluent fifties were no time to push for devolution. Scotland was sharing in Britain's wealth and memories of the pre-war Depression were still strong. Westminster's promises began to fade
rapidly in the light of harsh economic competition from abroad; nationalist feelings and the accompanying demands for recognition began to emerge once more. In Parliament, some heed was taken of these demands when the
powers of the Scottish Standing Committee, practically moribund since 1907, were greatly enhanced, giving Scotland something like a parliament within a parliament. The idea of a separate Scottish Parliament, after
centuries of being incorporated in that of Britain, did not seem so far-fetched after all. A great impetus to the growing nationalistic feelings of many Scots had come with the outstanding success of the Edinburgh
Festival of Music and Drama founded in 1947. It did much to revive links with Scotland's glorious history as a country of enlightenment in so many different spheres. Though economics seemed to rule most of the time,
literature and the arts played powerful parts in reminding the people of Scotland that they had once formed a powerful, independent nation. Perhaps they could do so again. When the Conservative Churchill Government
replaced Labour in 1951, denationalization of major industries took place. Several constitutional changes affected Scotland. To serve under the secretary of state, a minister of state was added who was free from
parliamentary duties at Westminster. A year later a third under-secretary of state gave Scotland even more autonomy, but continued successes by the Conservative party, an arch-foe of devolution in any shape or form,
meant that both major parties were officially opposed to a separate parliament for Scotland. It was as if the government was doing everything it could to keep the Scots happy, but the idea of devolution wasn't even
considered. The British Union remained unchallenged. One problem was the attachment of many Scottish M.P.'s (and their Welsh colleagues) to "the best club in London," the Parliament at Westminster. To leave
such cozy surroundings and such convivial company to return to work in their own constituencies was a horror not worth contemplating. It would mean relearning the knack of self-government, lost for centuries and being
directly responsible to the wishes of those who elected them in the first place. As James l had realized centuries ago and Henry VIII before him, it was much easier to rule Scotland and Wales from London. The Capital
had been skimming off the cream of both countries without too much protest. Yet, Scotland and Wales remained Celtic countries in many ways. Old resentments continued and winds of change were beginning to blow strongly
north of the border. Though very much a minority party, and still suffering from the stigma attached to the very idea of nationalism during the war years, the SNP began to build its organizational skills and to work on
political strategy; its share of the vote steadily grew. This also was a period of intense activity in Wales by members of Plaid Cymru, and by the fervent, and some say overzealous and destructive activities of the
Welsh Language Society (Cymdeithas yr Iaith Cymraeg). In any case, discontent in both areas of Britain led to a feverish proliferation of committees soon at work in Westminster looking at further measures of
devolution for Scotland and Wales. Defenders of the status quo
were a small minority; nine out of ten Scots were in favor of some form of constitutional change. Ambivalence as to the nature of this change, meant that the overwhelming vote in favor of devolution in 1997 and the desire of the Scots to have their own parliament once more reflects a sea change over the situation that prevailed in the 1960's and 70's. However, the seeds had been deeply planted. Again, we can use a favorite American expression to justify the changes: "it's the economy, stupid!" Support for the SNP was greatly increased by the British government's failure to fulfill the aspirations of the Scottish people. As succinctly expressed by historian Richard J. Finlay, "the economic history of Scotland in the sixties is a woeful tale of missed opportunities, bad management, poor productivity and under achievement." "It is the under achievement, I believe, that needs more emphasis." Overlooked by many chroniclers of the period is the stranglehold that trade unions began to exert on their members and the self-defeating practices in which they engaged.
Britain began to lose, lose, lose, in competition with the rest of the world, especially with the newly industrialized nations of Asia. In efforts to protect their members, unions resisted any attempts at
modernization. At British dockyards, attempts to introduce containers (rapidly being adopted by all other major industrial powers) led to vicious strikes that helped cripple the industry. In the shipyards, union
practices led to senseless waste and inefficiency and eventually led to precipitous decline in Britain's foremost place in the world's shipbuilding industry. The pattern was repeated in other industries. The once
thriving cotton industries of Britain, the envy of the world, could not compete with those employing cheap labor in Southeast Asia and the loss of the colonies meant that supplies of cheap raw materials were no longer
available. The newly emerging nations could make their own products from now on, thank you very much. All these changes greatly affected Scotland. The country relied on too few industries which created havoc when the
markets for coal, heavy engineering, steel and shipbuilding began to disappear. There was one ironic result of the British government's plans to rectify the situation. To compensate for job losses in the traditional
heavy industries and to attract new industries north of the border, it was necessary to create a vibrant domestic economy. In order to accomplish this, a social infrastructure was to be built up through a program
of schools, hospitals, road and public housing construction. Full employment and prosperous markets would result. British state economic policy would result in Scottish economic well being, and this meant, of course, a
massive investment in the construction of a state apparatus to bring about the proposed schemes. Following a vast increase in government workers in Scotland, (the Scottish Office expanded from 2,400 pre-war civil
servants to over 8,000 by 1970), the Balfour Report of 1953 recommended that the handling of government functions in Scotland be undertaken by the Scottish Office. A separate and distinctive arm of government was thus
created which allowed the Scottish Secretary to wield even greater powers without direct account to the Scottish electorate. There was bound to be a reaction. However, it was something else that forced the change that
was again connected to the economy. In 1967, smoldering resentment began to burst into flame. The successful exploration and exploitation of the oil and gas deposits in the North Sea, off the Scottish coast, raised the
question as to whom the economic benefits should belong. As usual, apart from the dubious benefits of the proliferation of fast food restaurants and U.S. style nightclubs in such cities as Aberdeen, all the advantages
(especially the income derived from the sale of oil) seemed to be flowing south, to London. Quite rightly, most Scots wanted more share for themselves and saw devolution as the only way to secure it. Thus, it came to
pass that the days of political obscurity for the Scottish Nationalists were over. The SNP broke through with its astonishing victory over Labour at Hamilton, a "safe" Labour stronghold. Mrs. Ewing, a Scottish
Nationalist who stated she wished to see her country seated at the U.N. between Saudi Arabia and Senegal was elected. More than one commentator has noted the youthful vigor of the SNP compared to the run-down Labour
machine whose blinkered visions were confined to the social clubs or town councils attended by old and proud, but inflexible war veterans. Following Mrs. Ewing's success, the SNP received a massive influx of new members
and seemed on the verge of capturing many other seats. Alas, the victory caused premature celebrations; the successes were unsustainable. It was as if the party had peaked, for the 1970's saw no repeat of Hamilton.
Yet, the warning bells had sounded in Westminster, and in 1968, at the party conference in Perth, Conservative leader Ted Heath announced his support of a Scottish Assembly. The astute politician realized that Scottish
nationalism would continue to grow as a political force and that steps had to be taken to counteract it. Whatever his motives, Heath's statement, dubbed "The Declaration of Perth," however vaguely expressed,
offered a ray of hope to the ever-patient school of nationalists. They could always refer back to a leading British politician's espousal of a Scottish Parliament. The response of the Labour Party, in power at
Westminster, was that Scottish nationalism was motivated purely by short-term economic difficulties that could be alleviated. Prime Minister Harold Wilson should have read his history books. Irish independence, for
example, was not just motivated by economic hardships but by national pride, and it would be national pride that would eventually turn the tide in Scotland. But not yet. Wilson's appointment of a commission on the
constitution in 1969 only wasted time; it was not designed to promulgate any action. Prospects for the SNP in the General Election of 1970 looked excellent; the party contested 65 seats, the largest number to date.
Alas, it lost Hamilton and gained only the Western Isles. The burst of enthusiasm that had so electrified Scotland's nationalists in the sixties seemed inexplicably spent. It wasn't. The huge problems facing Britain's
leaders only got worse; spending public money to alleviate them did not work. The miner's strike of 1973 and the oil crises initiated by the Arab-Israeli conflict brought matters to a head, and Labour found itself back
in power. In Scotland, the nationalists were able to take advantage of the turmoil to find their party once more a major force in Scottish politics. The oil crisis turned the attention of the Scottish people back to the
juicy prospect of becoming an independent nation that could draw on its own plentiful reserves of oil. In October 1973, the Kilbrandon Commission recommended that at a Scottish Assembly be set up. At the same time, the
SNP quickly launched its almost irresistible campaign of "It's Scotland's Oil." This immeasurably helped to lay to rest the age old fears of so many that Scotland could not exist economically free from
England. In November, SNP candidate Margo MacDonald was elected at Govan, another "safe" Labour constituency. The following year marked the high point of the party's success, winning eleven seats in the
October election, nine from the Conservatives. Though many would argue that the victories were mainly due to protest votes, not as marks of approval for independence, the fact remains that the SNP attained over thirty
percent of the Scottish vote. Once again, despite the deep divisions in the majority Labour Party over the issue, things looked promising for those Scots who had embarked on the high road to independence. After a
period of waffling and indecision, the government published its proposals for a devolved Scottish Assembly in November 1975. It would have no revenue raising powers and sovereignty would be retained in Westminster.
Though prospects for passage looked good, the wide range of conflicting government priorities left the Callaghan government little time to devote to the issue. Labour, fearing loss of its support in Scotland to the SNP,
was also still deeply divided on the question and the extent of devolution. The government's program was bound to fail. The Callaghan government's lack of commitment was made manifest in the Cunningham amendment of
January 1978 which stipulated that the Bill (for devolution) would not be implemented unless more than forty percent of the total electorate voted in favor of an assembly. In addition, Orkney and Shetland Island would
be excluded from the scheme if they returned a No vote. The North Sea oil reserves, upon which so much of Scotland's economic future depended, were off the shores of these islands. All these factors combined with
signs of a revival of the economy early in 1978, left the Bill headed for defeat. Like the voters in Wales, who were completely confusion as to what would result from limited devolution with lukewarm governmental
support, Scottish voters found themselves in a quandary. The ambiguity of the Yes campaign was completely canceled out by the well-organized, well-run and well-financed campaign of the other side. Big business was
not interested in romantic notions of Scottish independence or Celtic national integrity. Their sentiments lay with the British Union. In the March 1979 referendum, over forty percent of the Scottish people did not even
bother to vote, which resulted in 5l.6 in favor and 48.4 against. The same situation prevailed in Wales, where even die-hard nationalists of the Welsh-speaking areas turned down the ambiguous measure as worthless. In
both countries, people were asking who would want yet another layer of bureaucracy that would only serve to create more jobs for "the fat cats?" Eighteen years later, results were completely reversed. It
wasn't all to do with the astounding success of Braveheart, the Hollywood movie that reminded the Scots of their past glories as an independent nation and of the bravery of those who had fought to ensure
independence against almost insurmountable odds. The success of a form of artistic expression, however, does tend to remind us that Scotland and Wales are still Celtic nations in spirit. Centuries of watering down have
not erased a state of mind where economics plays second fiddle to the arts, where business is second to literature, where music and those who play it, poetry and those who write it, good stories and those who tell them,
and good songs and those who sing them all have a high place in society. The fortuitous arrival of Braveheart
was good for business, tourism especially. It was also good for the SNP who cannily set up booths outside the theatres where the movie was playing to packed houses that cheered lustily at Wallace's triumphs and booed the English armies on screen. Winnie Ewing confessed that "we all used it -- it was a wee bonus that came along." It was more than a wee bonus. More and more Scots began to look at William Wallace as a role model and proclaim "We're not free. We need a William Wallace." The leader of the SNP, Alex Salmond took advantage of the movie's success to exhort his followers "to come out from under the control of London." "Independence," he added, "is the process by which we fulfill our potential as a nation."
On September 11, 1997, four days after the trauma of Princess Diana's funeral, the referendum was passed by a 3:1 margin. Scotland would agin have a Parliament. British Prime Minister Tony Blair, whose Labour Party
had actively campaigned for passage of the devolution bill, called the results a step in the process of "modernizing Britain." Hollywood movie star and Scotsman, Sean Connery (who did not appear in
Braveheart) campaigned hard and contributed a great deal of cash to the campaign. He invoked the 1370 Declaration of Arbroath, "It is not for glory, riches or honors we fight, but only for liberty, which no
good man loses but with his life." The referendum followed thirty abortive attempts to raise the issue of home rule in Parliament. For the sober, historically informed Scottish citizen, the result was simply an
act of common sense -- Scotland had been the only modern nation state in the world to renounce its sovereignty voluntarily
when it had entered the Union in 1707 (though, to put it in its proper perspective, the vast majority of its people had not been consulted on the matter). The decision would give Scotland an Assembly with tax-levying powers, unlike the much weaker "talking-shop" that the Welsh would be saddled with as the result of their own (barely) successful referendum. It would also be given the broad authority to legislate in a host of sectors, but Westminster would "reserve" or "withhold" many powers: constitutional matters, foreign policy, defense, national security, border controls, monetary and fiscal matters, common markets for goods and services, employment law and social security.
The 129-member Scottish Assembly, we hope, will not assume the status of "a glorified Parish Council" as Tony Blair put it. However, it is expected that New Labour will try to run the show from London.
Encouraging, however, is the well considered hope that the brightest and best of the Scottish M.P.'s will shift their allegiance from Westminster to Edinburgh (or, at least temporarily, to Glasgow). Scots will have the
right to democratically choose (unlike 1707) whether they want full independence. Whatever the future brings, all Scots the world over, are mighty proud of the September 11, 1997 referendum to restore dignity and pride
to their nation by allowing them to make their own decisions in so many of their own, purely Scottish affairs |
