A lesson in independence

David Walsh

My girlfriend never ceases to amaze, quite frankly. From her wacky turns of phrase to certain customs she’s acquired from her childhood, they often render me speechless. It is testament to the credence of the time-old maxim: ‘variety is the spice of life.’ For some of you, the only spice that piques your student lives is a kebab after a night at one of Manchester’s establishments; for me, the proverbial spice in my life currently is having a Scottish girlfriend. Aside from the occasional Lost in Translation moment, I’ve learnt to truly appreciate the finer intricacies that make me – a Mancunian – and an Edinburghian so culturally diverse and yet so mutually attractive.

If history has tried to teach the human race one valuable lesson in particular, it is to nurture differences and not to place negative emphasis on the disparity between peoples or races. The futility of this lesson has been realised with history being littered by the bodies of the victims of indifference and arrogance; the Jews of Europe, the Kurds of Iraq, the Tutsis of Rwanda, the Bosnians of the former Yugoslavia. Genocide is evidently the extreme consequence of one race or social group succeeding in alienating another by stressing their cultural differences. This same process, albeit being implemented on a smaller scale, is occurring in the UK as we speak. Although a multi-faith, multi-cultural nation, there are fractures appearing in the outwardly tolerant surface of Britain, the epicentre of which emanates from the political landscape of Edinburgh.

As far back as 1992, one fifth of adults eligible to vote in Scotland came out in force at the polls in favour of the SNP – the Scottish Nationalist Party. 17 years on, with Scottish devolution now a reality and in possession of its own (SNP-dominated) body of elected representatives, the word on everyone’s lips is independence. Could Scotland ever really hope to gain independent statehood in our lifetime or is it merely the pipe dream of middle-aged, fat cat Scottish Nationalists? How do the SNP expect to attain their goals and catalyse enough popular support in Scotland to drive for self-determination?

Future governments in Westminster seeking to provoke the biggest constitutional crisis the country has yet faced is improbable, but the SNP are not a party to mince its words and its allocutions campaigning for Scottish independence are a good indication of that, and more convincingly, so is it’s share of the electorate. But is the rattling of sabres from Edinburgh nothing more than the independence-hungry SNP banging their cutlery on the table like a petulant child?

I am not all that convinced. You only have to look at the curriculum being taught in Scottish schools to realise that the SNP government are working towards independence with zeal. My girlfriend, studying for her PGCE in Primary Education at the University of Aberdeen, recently read me a line from one of its many pages. It sounded more like a quotation from Mein Kampf than a manual for the education of young children.

The Nazis manipulated their education system into a vehicle to drive for complete conviction in the National Socialist ideals of the Third Reich, particularly emphasising the inherent variation of races. I am certain that Alex Salmond, the Scottish First Minister, is not attempting to indoctrinate a generation of green-eyed, red-haired youths to one day dominate the globe as a perfect Celtic race. I am confident, however, that the SNP intends to mould the Scottish youth of today to be a future generation of proud nationalists, emphatic in the creation of a state founded on years of idealised SNP homilies of Scottish grandeur. As always, these things are up for the interpretation of the individual, and in this case it is the teacher who must interpret the government’s curriculum. The horse falls at the first hurdle, as far as I am concerned.

The syllabus for English is based on an appreciation of Scottish literary works without even a trace of the bastion of great English literature, Shakespeare; History is laced with plans to make visits to the battlefields of Bannockburn and Culloden (symbols of resistance to English rule) obligatory for school children. The situation has but to escalate to scenes from Braveheart, leaving one to wonder: when Scotland’s kilt is hoisted and its backside is bared, in what spirit is it intended? To continue to pay it lip service or for England to kiss it goodbye? I rather fear it should be getting ‘six of the best’ instead.