POLITICS
The Tories who want to follow the Cross of St George
BRUCE ANDERSON
Mr Blair's recent visit to Scotland was a failure. He set out to placate the Scots, but only succeeded in annoying them. Two of his remarks in particular seemed to stick in the Caledonian craw: his claim to be Scot- tish, and his reference to 'middle Scotland'. But what was wrong with either statement?
Mr Blair was born in Edinburgh and went to school there, so why should he not describe himself as Scots? Admittedly, his Scottishness does not draw on deep roots, but nor would any national allegiance he expressed; Mr Blair is not so much Scottish or English as Blairish. But it has never been necessary to pass an exam in culture or his- tory before claiming to be a Scot. If the Nationalists have their way, such a test might be introduced, as a means of impos- ing their totalitarian definition of Scottish- ness. But it would be pop culture and pseu- do-history; the type of pseudo-history which enabled the Scottish press to insist, apparently sincerely, that there is no such thing as middle Scotland.
Of course there is. You will find it in the suburbs and the small towns throughout the country, not to mention the New Town in Edinburgh and the West End of Glasgow. The differences between these middle Scots and the middle English have been greatly exaggerated. On closer examination, mid- dle Scotland's supposed attachment to a larger public sector turns out to be much the same as middle England's: both groups want more public services than they are happy to pay for. But these days, many respectably educated middle-class Scots will simply refuse to entertain the possibili- ty that they have anything in common with the English.
They are encouraged in this by the press. A lot of Scottish journalists seem to be suf- fering from survivor guilt; though they may lead a prosperous existence, they appear to believe that they ought to be part of the cast of Trainspotting or living in a pre-war Gorbals tenement. They are colluding in the rewriting of Scottish history.
Especially during periods of political fer- ment, history is often rewritten to fit a con- temporary agenda. Walter Scott recreated a great deal of Scottish history when he was preparing the pageantry for George IV's visit to Edinburgh. But there is a vast differ- ence. Walter Scott's inventions were roman- tic and aristocratic; the 1990s equivalent is sentimental and proletarian. As a result a majority of Scots now think that Culloden was an Anglo-Scottish battle, while a lot of them seem to believe that William Wallace was done to death by Margaret Thatcher. At moments of gloom — more and more frequent, when considering Scottish affairs — one has the impression that at least 90 per cent of present-day Scots regard their history solely as a history of anti-English grievances. Because of this mood, a dreich dirge of a pop song has captured the popu- lar Scottish imagination. 'Flower of Scot- land' is one of the worst tunes ever written. It sounds like a cow with bursting udders, mooing in protest at the milkmaid's late arrival, and the words are worthy of the melody. A nation which adopts 'Cow of Scotland' as its national anthem would be revealing a profound cultural malaise. Such is Scotland, on the eve of devolution.
Tory opponents of devolution warned the Labour party that it would make matters worse. At least one current Scottish Office minister, Brian Wilson, whole-heartedly agreed. In the Seventies, Mr Wilson had been a lucid opponent of devolution, and his views have never changed. But although he regarded the whole venture with fore- boding, he also felt that it was too late to prevent it, and that there was no point in joining Tam Dalyell in a pointless defence of the last ditch. Mr Wilson's colleagues were less clear-minded. They somehow assumed that devolution could be enacted without much change, except that the Scot Nat threat would recede over the horizon, leaving Labour in undisturbed possession of its Scottish fiefdom.
The Tories warned that it was fatuous to delude oneself that a parliament in Edin- burgh could co-exist with Westminster in a state of placid subordination. It was not necessary to be a Nationalist to recognise that Scotland was a nation, and that once there was a forum in Edinburgh, it could never be a mere federal assembly. It would inevitably become the focal point for Scot- tish political identity and a lever to break up the Union. The Scottish Parliament was abolished in 1707 because it had become a threat to the United Kingdom; its restora- tion would only vindicate that judgment.
But the Tories are not entitled to any credit for being right, for they did nothing to tackle the problem; nothing to create a countervailing force. The devolutionary mood in Scotland was never going to dissi- pate of its own accord; it had to be faced down. To do this, the Tories would have had to arouse English opinion in defence of the present unitary state structures. If it had become clear to the Scots that the English were not prepared to mess around with the UK's government merely to appease a Scots frowst, and that Scotland would have to choose between the status quo and indepen- dence, the response might have been differ- ent. It would have been a gamble, but the odds on preserving the Union would have been more favourable than they are now.
Apart from occasional bold spirits such as Robert Cranborne, the Tories did not have the will for such a venture; their morale had been sapped by their chronic political crisis. But there was then a strange development. The English nationalism which the Tories had refused to encourage aroused itself any- way. The Cross of St George suddenly became a political symbol.
This owes nothing to any section of the English political elite; there has not been a significant and explicit English nationalist politician since John Wilkes. It is also too early to be certain whether the Cross of St George will make the transition from foot- ball to politics. But the English psyche may be stirring, and a number of younger Tory politicians are taking an interest.
Older Tories are often instinctive Union- ists, who assume that what the electoral cycle took away, it can also restore. But the evidence is against them, as most Scots Tories would agree. The Scottish Tory party has realised that it can only survive by stressing its independence from London far more than its alliance with London. That is bound to encourage English Tories to con- sider a dual hypothesis: that things will never be the same again, and that the Tory party could turn this to its advantage.
It is still far too early to hail the transfor- mation of the Conservative and Unionist party into the English National party. But forces have been set in motion whose momentum does not depend on the will of politicians. In both Scotland and England, we may be entering a period in which politi- cians will be running to try to keep up with the public mood.
That is what tends to happen if a govern- ment starts altering the constitution on a basis of minimum forethought. The out- come is bound to be interesting; it is by no means certain to be benign.
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