Picking at my nationalist scab

An initial wander through my terrifying fears that I may have become a "nasty nationalist".

I remember an argument when I was a ridiculously outspoken twenty something during which my mate Colin was arguing from a nationalist point of view and I was responding with “aye, so why doesn’t Aberdeen become independent, as it will do far better? Where do we stop with fragmenting politics to suit identity?”. That thought and position still lurks in me somewhere and it definitely rose in my conscience when recent news bulletins and press pieces carried the notion of independence for Shetland or The Islands.

“What? Don’t be so daft” 

I found myself telling the news program, while being well aware of my lurking hypocrisy and guilt about also thinking 

“Shit, all that oil and possible renewable energy would be gone!”. 

Good god I must be the worst sort of "nationalist" and a terribly selfish, hypocritical daft one to boot. Before I continue I should really apologise to committed nationalists and allow that their political view is nothing abhorrent in civilised life and within reason. Remember I am dealing with my own struggle, so it's my struggle with nationalism I am confuddled by, not a rejection of whatever nationalism some others might hold - not yet anyway.

Back on (off) track, there’s definitely something shameful, guilty and politically conflicted going on in my head, something deep and terribly meaningful about my identity. I think it’s probably going on for many others in Scotland too. These days Colin (see above), as far as I can tell, seems to be staunchly pro Union – largely based on Union Jacks and a spectacular dislike for Alex Salmond  – and I’ve somehow managed to find myself arguing alongside the SNP that Scotland should be an independent nation. There’s that word, “nation”. Damn, I must be a nationalist, and of course, the very worst sort of that too. Woe is officially me.

It’s dark in this pit of self doubt I’ve hurled myself into and I’m genuinely ill at ease with the thoughts of betraying the socialism I’ve always claimed as an important part of my identity. There’s an easy ladder out too, the traditional left who support unionism offer it to me most consistently in terms of a class based argument for working class unity and solidarity. I could overcome my silly conflictedness and doubts about being a nasty nationalist if I just accept that my way out of the pit of political self doubt is to vote with my class and the Labour movement to change politics in the United Kingdom. Brilliant, easy, I’m sorted, not conflicted at all. I just vote Labour and they’ll deliver change in tandem with the trade unions I solidly support and believe in...

There's a problem though. I've tried this mental leap a fair few times and every single time I attempt it rather than a happy escape from conflictedness about how to improve the UK I hear my political conscience kicking in with: 

“Really?

Naw, really Stevie? 

That’s your political masterplan for sorting out the mess we’re in? The same masterplan you and many others have had (with a quite remarkable lack of success) for the last 4 decades during which the things you believe in, equality, social justice, the welfare state, trade unions, the NHS and much else have been under sustained and succesful attack? That's your plan?”

“Stevie man, have a word wi yerself!” I can hear my conscience ‘hint’ loudly.

“Waiting for Labour is your best shot at a sensible way out of the daft pit you metaphorically hurled yourself into? No chance, that’s just bloody stupid” (and something we’ll return to in more detail in another post).

I’ll not lengthen this early wandering through my delusions by including much on “waiting for the Lib Dems” or Tories. Anyone who wants to argue that with me or my incredibly rude and intolerant sub-conscious is welcome to try, but don’t, for all our sakes. I cannot in good conscience vote or wait for a Labour party who have...well, perhaps I can revisit that in more detail in another post. I can't vote for Labour or wait for them to deliver the changes I want to see in British and Scottish society. I just can't.

So here I am in my pit of seemingly overwhelming nationalist guilt that the one way I have of possibly, maybe, positively changing the politics of my Clydebank, wife, weans, dugs and debt, world is to vote Yes. What else can I do when nothing from the existing political settlement within the union will bring about a necessary change and improvement in our lives? It’s a “sair fecht” this gig, being forced to be a dastardly Nat because all other options seemed closed to me, but despite my discomfort they really, really do.

I'm left in this initial skip through my daftness with the summary that I must vote Yes to get rid of a hopeless Westminster political setup and perhaps be able to build a better Scottish version? Seems sensible enough at this stage. I’ll mutter on about it more soon.

Stevie