Études écossaises
18 | 2016 Écosse : migrations et frontières Scotland: Migrations and Borders
Cyril Besson, David Leishman et Véronique Molinari (dir.)
Édition électronique URL : http://journals.openedition.org/etudesecossaises/1037 DOI : 10.4000/etudesecossaises.1037 ISSN : 1969-6337
Éditeur UGA Éditions/Université Grenoble Alpes
Édition imprimée Date de publication : 25 avril 2016 ISBN : 978-2-84310-324-7 ISSN : 1240-1439
Référence électronique Cyril Besson, David Leishman et Véronique Molinari (dir.), Études écossaises, 18 | 2016, « Écosse : migrations et frontières » [En ligne], mis en ligne le 01 janvier 2017, consulté le 15 mars 2021. URL : http://journals.openedition.org/etudesecossaises/1037 ; DOI : https://doi.org/10.4000/ etudesecossaises.1037
© Études écossaises Numéro 18
Écosse : migrations et frontières
Scotland: migrations and borders
Sous la direction de Cyril Besson, David Leishman et Véronique Molinari
Université Grenoble Alpes 2016 ÉTUDES Écossaises
Responsable : Cyril Besson Équipe de rédaction et comité de lecture : Cyril Besson, Pierre Carboni, Christian Civardi, Sylvie Kleiman-Lafon, David Leishman, Gilles Leydier, Patrick Menneteau, Gavin Miller, Véronique Molinari, Pierre Morère, Steve Murdoch, Marie Odile Pittin-Hedon, Clotilde Prunier, Bernard Sellin, Roderick Watson, John Young.
Numéros disponibles No1 – Écosse, Regards d’Histoire, 1992. No 2 – Littérature écossaise : voix nouvelles, 1993. No 3 – Aspects du xviiie siècle ; Recherches en culture écossaise moderne, 1996. No 4 – La poésie écossaise – Lettres de la rébellion jacobite, 1997. No 5 – Une Écosse autonome ?, 1998. No 6 – Arts plastiques et cinéma en Écosse, 1999-2000. No 7 – L’étrange, le mystérieux, le surnaturel, 2001. No 8 – Le roman écossais moderne, 2002. No 9 – L’Écosse au féminin, 2003-2004. No 10 – La réputation, 2005. No 11 – L’Utopie, 2008. No 12 – La Science, 2009. No 13 – Exil et Retour, 2010. No 14 – Empire – Recherches en cours, 2011. No 15 – Ré-écrire l’Écosse : littérature et cinéma, 2012. No 16 – Ré-écrire l’Écosse : histoire, 2013. No 17 – La poésie écossaise, 2015.
Hors série : Actes de l’Atelier écossais de la conférence de l’ESSE. Numéro publié conjointement par le GDR Études écossaises et le Scottish Studies Centre, Centre de Germersheim (Allemagne), 1994.
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Prix : 19 euros (+ 2,50 euros de frais de port et 1 euro pour les suivants) ISBN 978-2-84310-324-7 — ISSN 1240-1439 Sommaire
Avant-propos de Cyril Besson, David Leishman et Véronique Molinari 5
Migrations et frontières
Carine Berbéri The Impact of Scotland’s Prospective Membership of 11 the EU on the 2014 Referendum Debate: Concerns over Borders
Michael Pugh Civic Borders and Imagined Communities: 29 Continuity and Change in Scotland’s Municipal Boundaries, Jurisdictions and Structures — from 19th-Century “General Police” to 21st-Century “Community Empowerment”
Arnaud Fiasson Territorialité politique, nationalisme et traversées 51 constitutionnelles en Écosse
Lauren Anne-Killian The Homecoming of Tartan: How Scotland and 69 Brancaz North America Collaborate in Shaping Tartan
Aislinn McDougall Loss, Diaspora, Displacement, and Parentage 89 in Alistair MacLeod’s No Great Mischief
Recherches en études écossaises
Christian Auer La transgression du dogme du laissez-faire : 107 l’intervention du gouvernement britannique dans les Hautes Terres d’Écosse en 1846-1847
Marion Amblard Le thème du travail agricole dans les tableaux des 119 Glasgow Boys, ou l’Écosse selon des peintres victoriens
Jeremy Tranmer Popular Music and Left-Wing Scottishness 133
Emerence Hild Renegotiating Scottish Nationalism after the 2014 151 Independence Referendum Recensions
Camille Manfredi Marie-Odile Pittin-Hédon, The Space of Fiction. 167 Voices from Scotland in a Post-Devolution Age, Glasgow, Scottish Literature International, 2015
Silke Stroh Klaus Peter Müller (ed.), Scotland 2014 and Beyond – 168 Coming of Age and Loss of Innocence?, Frankfurt am Main, Peter Lang, 2015
Cyril Besson Sarah Dunningan and Suzanne Gilbert (eds), The 174 Edinburgh Companion to Scottish Traditional Literatures, Edinburgh, Edinburgh University Press, 2013
Pierre Carboni Pierre Morère, Sens et sensibilité : pensée et poésie dans la 176 Grande-Bretagne des Lumières, coédition ELLUG-PUL, collection « Esthétique et représentation : monde anglophone (1750-1900) », Lyon, Presses universitaires de Lyon, 2015
Résumés des articles 179 Avant-propos
« Migrations et frontières » est l’intitulé de l’un des projets de recherche transversaux définis par l’unité de recherche Institut des langues et cultures d’Europe, Amérique, Afrique, Asie et Australie (ILCEA4) dont dépend la revue Études écossaises par l’intermédiaire de l’équipe interne Centre d’étude sur les modes de la représentation du monde anglo- phone (CEMRA). Nous avons voulu cette année proposer un numéro qui décline cette thématique au contexte écossais afin de contribuer à ce projet de recherche transversal tout en profitant des explorations scienti- fiques stimulantes qu’une telle thématique permet de dégager. Que nos articles portent sur l’histoire écossaise ou sur le monde contemporain, sur la littérature ou sur les études civilisationnistes, il s’agit d’une piste qui ne cesse de réaffirmer sa pertinence eu égard aux évolutions du monde contemporain. C’était le regretté William McIlvanney, disparu en décembre 2015, qui est crédité, lors d’une manifestation syndicale en soutien à l’indus- trie de l’acier en 1994, d’avoir popularisé l’expression « a mongrel nation » pour revendiquer son appartenance à une Écosse résolument hybride. La phrase de McIlvanney a connu un certain retentissement et s’est re- trouvée par la suite dans les discours d’Alex Salmond ou de l’inspecteur Jack Rebus, lui-même étant en quelque sort le fils spirituel du personnage Laidlaw crée par McIlvanney. C’est une phrase qui résume, non sans fierté, la vision romantisée d’une Écosse qui fait peu de cas de la pureté ethnique ou culturelle qui reste comme toujours le versant sombre d’un nationalisme à honnir. À l’opposé, bien que le SNP affiche une concep- tion résolument ouverte de l’appartenance à la nation écossaise, son pro- jet lors du référendum en 2014 était nécessairement clivant au sein du Royaume-Uni puisqu’il visait la création d’une nouvelle frontière poli- tique entre l’Écosse et l’Angleterre, redessinées comme deux États dis- tincts. Et si l’Ecosse, du fait de sa position septentrionale, reste en vérité relativement éloignée des principaux flux migratoires émanant du conti- nent européen, sa politique en matière d’immigration, bien que purement hypothétique, faisait néanmoins les gros titres des journaux tabloïdes britanniques qui réaffirmaient, et par là entretenaient, la centralité des
| 5 études écossaises 18 préoccupations populaires liées aux questions de frontières et de migra- tions : « Prepare the Border Posts—Fears over SNP Immigration Policy » (Daily Express, 21 novembre 2013). L’enjeu combiné des politiques migra- toires et de la redéfinition de frontières politiques n’a cessé d’augmenter ces deniers mois, en passant par la crise sans précédent de 2015 provo- quée par l’arrivée de réfugiés syriens, par le référendum autour du main- tien du Royaume-Uni au sein de l’UE, prévu pour 2016, ce qui débou- cherait sur la possibilité d’un deuxième référendum sur l’indépendance écossaise en cas d’un Brexit. C’est dire que les thématiques de frontières et migration restent plus que toujours d’actualité pour l’Écosse et doivent continuer à faire l’objet d’analyses approfondies. Nous commençons ce numéro par l’article de Carine Berbéri qui s’intéresse de plus près à la dimension européenne des frontières écos- saises afin d’analyser comment celle-ci a contribué à façonner le débat sur l’indépendance écossaise. De l’adoption du SNP d’une position pro- européenne aux récents débats sur le statut de l’Écosse au sein de l’UE, il s’agit de valider ou d’infirmer la viabilité d’une Écosse indépendante en tant qu’État à part entière en examinant notamment les conséquences d’une possible appartenance à l’espace Schengen. Michael Pugh se tourne, lui, vers les frontières administratives à plus petite échelle et souligne l’im- portance des changements législatifs qui ont façonné les municipalités et régions en Écosse au fil du temps, sans perdre de vue la dimension natio- nale de ces réorganisations collectives. Lorsque Michael Pugh réaffirme comment ces changements administratifs jouent un rôle dans la formu- lation des questions identitaires en Écosse, il permet de faire le lien avec l’article d’Arnaud Fiasson qui s’intéresse surtout à l’Écosse après la dé- volution. En prenant appui sur le modèle de territorialisation de la géo- graphe Jan Penrose, Arnaud Fiasson se propose de partir de la redéfini- tion du territoire écossais en 1997 afin d’analyser comment celle-ci est exploitée par la suite par le SNP et d’étudier l’imbrication entre natio- nalisme politique et nationalisme culturel. Lauren Anne-Killian Brancaz part du même constat dans son étude sur le tartan comme symbole natio- nal, vecteur de choix pour promouvoir la scotticité à l’étranger, notam- ment sous forme d’un « Tartan Day » annuel aux États-Unis. Toutefois, l’article démontre que cette réécriture d’une identité nationale largement sous le contrôle d’une diaspora, par définition éloignée des réalités de l’Écosse contemporaine, est soutenue et reprise par les pouvoirs poli- tiques, ce qui contribue à une réévaluation plus générale du symbolisme du tartan. Enfin, pour clore la section thématique, l’article d’Aislinn McDougall prend comme sujet le roman No Great Mischief de l’auteur canadien Alistair MacLeod (1936-2014). Les liens entre l’Écosse et l’Amé- rique du Nord sont de nouveau au premier plan, le roman retraçant l’his-
6 | avant-propos toire d’une famille de migrants écossais ayant débarqué à Cap Breton. L’article s’intéresse notamment aux questions de déplacement, de perte et de parenté pour analyser la manière dont les liens nationaux et familiaux se dispersent une fois que des migrants ont quitté leur terre d’origine. La deuxième partie de la revue, hors thème, permet de revenir sur certains travaux de recherches en cours, initialement présentés lors des nombreuses animations pour faire vivre la discipline des études écossaises organisées en 2015. Nous saluons au passage tous ceux qui s’étaient mobi- lisés pour organiser colloques, journées d’études et autres tables rondes à cette occasion, contribuant ainsi à faire perdurer un dynamisme impulsé par la tenue du référendum l’année précédente. Nous présentons ici les travaux de Christian Auer et de Marion Amblard, qui avaient tous deux communiqué à l’atelier écossais du congrès annuel de la SAES 2015 à Toulon, ainsi que des articles de Jeremy Tranmer et d’Emerence Hild qui avaient participé à la journée d’études « Qu’est-ce qu’être Écossais aujourd’hui ? » organisée par Céline Sabiron à l’université de Lorraine en juillet 2015.
Cyril Besson, David Leishman et Véronique Molinari Université Grenoble Alpes
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Migrations et frontières
Carine Berbéri University of Tours
The Impact of Scotland’s Prospective Membership of the EU on the 2014 Referendum Debate: Concerns over Borders
The issue of Scotland’s borders played a major role in the 2014 Scottish independence campaign insofar as they aroused many concerns about their evolution in the advent of an independent Scotland which would be part of the European Union (EU). Three main questions were raised: would Scotland be required to join the Schengen Area as a condition of EU membership? Would it be able to remain part of the Common Travel Area (CTA)? Would it be able to manage its borders? Scotland’s prospec- tive EU membership gave rise to much uncertainty and increased some of the fears linked to the prospect of Scotland becoming an independent country. Obviously, if one UK nation becomes independent, it will have an impact on the UK’s borders and on the borders of the new independent country with the rest of the UK insofar as the borders of the independent country become international borders. An international border can be defined as “a line dividing land territory, over which States exercise full territorial sovereignty”, implying that the new state has to control its bor- ders (Caflish, 2006, p. 1). Indeed, according to the Weberian definition of the state as an entity which holds the “legitimate use of physical force in the enforcement of its order” (Weber, 2002, p. 118), borders and their states are “separate but related political structures” (Wilson & Donnan, 2000, p. 10). This means that borders do not only refer to (1) the legal borderline which separates and joins states, but also to the following two elements: (2) the physical structures of the state—composed of people and insti- tutions—which exist to demarcate and protect the borderline; (3) frontiers, territorial zones which “stretch across and away from borders, within which people negotiate a variety of behaviours and meaning associated with their membership in nations and states”. (Ibid., p. 9)
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This paper will focus on the first two elements since the debate about Scotland’s borders focused on the need for an independent Scotland to control its borders. Indeed, independence for Scotland gave rise to fears about illegal immigration since an independent Scotland might not be able to manage its borders—this concern was probably strengthened by the migrant crisis in the Mediterranean. As made clear in the document entitled Scotland Analysis: Borders and Citizenship which was published by the British gov- ernment in 2014 1, external borders needed to be controlled carefully in order to achieve a balance between the promotion of migration or trade, for example, and the protection against any type of threats, such as ter- rorism (HM Government, 2014, p. 15). As already mentioned, the fears linked to the prospect of Scotland becoming an independent country were strengthened by EU member- ship. Since the 1980s the SNP had always promised that an independent Scotland would be a full member of the EU and the Scottish govern- ment (led by Alex Salmond, the SNP leader until November 2014) did not change this policy when it won the Scottish Parliament election in May 2011. If Scotland had voted in favour of independence on 18 Sep- tember 2014, it would have tried to be part of the EU—even though there was much uncertainty about whether Scotland would have retained its membership or would have had to reapply for it. This paper will consequently examine how the concerns about Scot- land’s independence and its prospective EU membership were intertwined and impacted upon the referendum debate as far as borders were con- cerned. Scotland’s borders include land and maritime boundaries. The Anglo-Scottish land border, which was established in 1237 by the Treaty of York, was particularly brought to the fore in the context of the inde- pendence referendum since it would have become an international border had Scotland become independent. Scotland’s maritime borders were also alluded to in this debate but they seemed to be less contentious. 2 I will begin by explaining why EU membership has been a key element of the SNP policy since the late 1980s before focusing on the problem
1. Contrary to the Scottish government which focused mostly on its White Paper on independ- ence, Scotland’s Future, the British government produced a series of documents dealing with issues linked to the Scottish independence referendum from February 2013 onwards. 2. Maritime borders were mentioned in this debate because they would have had to be defined according to international law and bilateral negotiations between an independent Scotland and the continuing UK. Furthermore, a great part of the UK’s oil reserves lie within these borders. One should note that Scotland being no independent state, it has no international maritime boundaries today—even if the extent of the respective jurisdictions of England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland in the maritime zones of the UK have been defined by several Acts and Orders (HM Gov- ernment, 2014, p. 19; Scottish Government, 2013b, p. 557).
12 | impact of scotland’s prospective membership of the eu on referendum debate raised by a possible requirement for Scotland (which is today a member of the CTA) to join the Schengen Area as part of EU membership. The article will then examine the concerns aroused by these issues during the referendum debate, analysing the main arguments used by the national- ists and the pro-Union side. Finally, I will try to assess to what extent these concerns were justified. I will not deal with the citizenship issue even though Scotland’s inde- pendence affected the way of determining the eligibility criteria for Scot- tish citizenship and entitlement to British citizenship.
Scotland and EU membership
Since the late 1980s the SNP (like Plaid Cymru in Wales) has tried to use EU membership to promote independence, as exemplified by its slogan “Independence in Europe”. Not only did this strategy enable the SNP to react to criticisms that Scotland would be too weak and isolated if it decided to leave the UK, but it was also a way for the party to take advantage of the new initiatives launched by the European Union at that time. Indeed, the 1986 Single European Act had promoted regional poli- cies and structural funds, such as the European Regional Development Fund, which aimed at correcting regional disparities and at including sub-national government levels into the European decision-making pro- cess. In 1992 this was reinforced by the subsidiarity principle introduced in the Maastricht Treaty: In areas which do not fall within its exclusive competence, the Commu- nity shall take action […] only if and in so far as the objectives of the pro- posed action cannot be sufficiently achieved by the Member States and can therefore, by reason of the scale or effects of the proposed action, be better achieved by the Community. (Europa, 2015a) This meant that decisions should be taken at the lowest level of govern- ment. Even if this principle first only applied to relationships between member states and the EU, the political parties supporting devolution or independence, such as the SNP, tried to apply it to relationships between governments and sub-national governments. This was a way for them to legitimize the decision-making process at the sub-national government level. It was all the more attractive to them because the policies followed by the Conservative governments of Margaret Thatcher and John Major did not seem to protect their interests: Conservative unpopularity in Scotland and Wales was strengthened during the 18 years of Conservative rule by policies which appeared, to many, to be
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unsympathetic to the special needs of the non-English parts of the United Kingdom. The Thatcher government’s policies of competitive individualism and the free market seemed inappropriate to the more communally orien- tated societies of Scotland and Wales. Conservative rule seemed, to many Scots, to be alien rule. Particularly resented in Scotland was the community charge, popularly known as the poll tax, which was implemented in Scotland before it was tried in England, even though the vast majority of Scottish MPs had voted against it in the House of Commons. (Bogdanor, 2012, p. 91) The strategy adopted by the SNP also reflected the “multi-level gov- ernance” theory which had been popularized by Gary Marks, political scientist, at that time. “Multi-level governance” called into question the neofunctionalist and realist strategies, 3 which had been developed in the 1950s and 1960s, by highlighting the complex network of inter actions noticeable at the European level: “European integration is a polity-creating process in which authority and policy-making influence are shared across multiple levels of government—subnational, national, and supranational” (Hooghe & Marks, 2001, p. 2). More precisely, this theory insisted on the roles played by the following institutions in the European decision-making process: (1) the supranational actors, particu- larly the European Commission, (2) the national state institutions, par- ticularly the government, and (3) the sub-national governments. Applied to Scotland, this meant that the SNP (at the sub-national government level) could use the European level to make its voice heard so as to get more power and legitimacy, and bypass the British State (at the national level). From then on, devolution and the European issue were linked (Bulmer et al., 2006, p. 91). Despite these changes, remaining part of the UK has resulted in a limited voice for Scotland on EU matters, even after the setting-up of the devolved administration in 1999. Indeed, questions concerning the EU are not devolved issues, but reserved matters—the Scottish Executive is not allowed to take decisions on such matters. Furthermore, Scottish ministers find it hard to promote Scottish interests at EU level because they are not always consulted nor invited to attend meetings where key
3. According to the neofunctionalist theory, based on the work of political scientist Ernst Haas, national interest groups, bureaucrats and elites—rather than national governments—played a key role in the decision-making process at the European level: “Political integration is the process whereby political actors in several distinct national settings are persuaded to shift their loyalties, expectations and political activities toward a new centre, whose institutions possess or demand jurisdiction over the pre-existing national states.” (Haas, 1958, p. 16) In reaction to this theory, the realist strategy, founded by political scientists such as Stanley Hoffmann, had insisted on the role played by national governments in the European political system, considering that the State retained most of its capacity for national choice in the European integration process.
14 | impact of scotland’s prospective membership of the eu on referendum debate decisions are made on UK policy in EU matters—including those deal- ing with devolved responsibilities (House of Commons, 2010, p. 36). Finally, the priorities highlighted by the UK Permanent Representation (UKREP) in Brussels often diverge from Scotland’s EU priorities, par- ticularly as far as environmental policies are concerned: Environmental policies are a salient example of the lack of representation that Scotland suffers and the difficulties that it encounters in attempting to further its own interests. Although the Scottish Parliament has important powers in terms of environmental policies, the permeability of that field’s boundaries often means that the Scottish Government has to abandon cer- tain projects because of the cross references between environmental issues and matters reserved to Westminster. (Simpkins, 2015, pp. 6–7) One should also note that, being part of the UK means that Scot- land has to respect the same opt-outs as those negotiated by the Major government in the 1990s, i.e. the opt-out on the single currency and the Schengen Area. Thus, Scotland—like the rest of the UK—did not join the Schengen Area but decided to remain part of the Common Travel Area (CTA). The latter, which was set up after the partition of Ireland in 1922, ensures free movement for nationals of the UK and Ireland and enables the “UK, the Republic of Ireland, the Channel Islands and the Isle of Man [to] collaborate on border policies and practices as part of the CTA” (Ryan, 2014, pp. 158–9). The creation of this area, which works, in practice, in a similar manner as the Schengen Area, had been suggested to the Irish Free State by the British government in 1922 because they refused to impose passport and immigration checks at the UK-Irish border. These two opt-outs have always been problematic for the SNP. 4 The lack of clarity on these two issues was stressed during the 2014 Scottish independence campaign. Although Scotland could be required to join the Schengen Area as a condition of EU membership, the SNP had made it clear quite early that it planned to remain part of the CTA, as exempli- fied by SNP Home Office Affairs spokesman Pete Wishart’s statement in March 2012: “The reality is that an independent Scotland will be part of the common travel area which already exists within and between the UK and Ireland.” (BBC, 2012) The SNP documents published in the context of the independence referendum repeated these ideas (Scottish Government, 2013a, p. 13). This policy objective seemed to be based on two factors: not only did the Scottish government wish to adopt the
4. The SNP has now abandoned the idea of having its own currency (because of the euro crisis) but has hesitated between joining the euro or keeping the pound over the past few years.
| 15 études écossaises 18 same attitude as the Republic of Ireland (which is no longer part of the UK, but has been part of the CTA since the 1920s) but they also wanted to protect “the integrity of the current social union” (ibid., pp. 99–100, p. v). This “social union”, which refers to “the expression of the close economic, social and cultural ties that exist across the nations of the UK (including the Isle of Man and the Channel Islands) and Ireland” (ibid., p. 96), was a principle which had been expressed by Alex Salmond since 2013. 5 According to the SNP, this social union was not threatened by an independent Scotland since it would be stronger thanks to a new part- nership and the continued free movement of nationals between Scotland and the rest of the UK (rUK) and Ireland (ibid.). There was no certainty that the SNP policy objective would be accepted by the British govern- ment though, as explained later in this paper.
Scotland’s prospective EU membership: Schengen Area vs CTA
Today, twenty-two EU member states, are part of the Schengen Area. The UK and Ireland have always refused to join it. The opt-out was negotiated by the Major government and it has never been called into question so far. This reluctance can be mostly explained by the terrorist threat (and the need to control the movement of terrorists and weapons) as well as by the insular nature of these countries (Watts & Pilkington, 2005, p. 183). The Schengen Area was created following a first agreement signed between Belgium, France, Luxembourg, the Netherlands and West Ger- many in 1985, and a further convention signed in June 1990. When it took effect in 1995, checks at the internal borders of the signatory states were abolished (nationals of EU member states, which had agreed to be part of the Schengen Area, could travel between the countries which had also decided to join this Area without a passport and border con- trols). Furthermore, a single external border “where immigration checks for the Schengen Area [were] carried out in accordance with identical procedures” was created (Europa, 2015b). Not only did the Schengen Area entail the removal of border checks at the internal borders as well as common rules applying to people crossing the external borders of the EU member states but also the harmonization of the conditions of entry
5. In mid-2013, former First Minister Alex Salmond made six major speeches to explain an inde- pendent Scotland’s place in an interdependent world. He stressed that Scotland (as part of the UK) was a member of six unions: the political and economic union, the social union, the currency union, the union of the crowns, the defence union through NATO, and the European Union. The Scottish government wanted to remain part of five of these unions, except the political and economic union.
16 | impact of scotland’s prospective membership of the eu on referendum debate and of the rules on visas for short stays, enhanced police cooperation, stronger judicial cooperation through a faster extradition system and transfer of enforcement of criminal judgments, as well as the establish- ment and development of the Schengen Information System (SIS) 6. As already mentioned, Scotland has been part of the CTA since the 1920s, which means that within this area there is one external border which is managed by the UK. This would be called into question if Scot- land was required to join the Schengen Area as a condition of EU mem- bership. According to the Schengen requirements, there would have to be immigration controls at the borders with the rest of the UK and Ireland, which would include: “crossings at the land border between England and Scotland, ferry crossings between Northern Ireland and Scottish ports and flights between Scotland and other parts of the UK” (HM Govern- ment, 2014, p. 34). Indeed, Scotland would have a (land, sea and air) border with an EU member state which is not in the Schengen Area. As averred by the Conservative Minister for Immigration and Security, James Brokenshire, in April 2014, the current regime of free and unin- terrupted travel between Scotland and the rest of the UK would change: If Scotland were part of the EU and part of Schengen, in those circum- stances it would be under an obligation to secure the external Schengen border. Therefore, it could itself be under obligations to put in place border checks, border controls and everything that that brings with it. (Ibid., p. 27) The SNP has clearly said that it would like to remain in the CTA but there would be no automatic entry. Negotiations would be needed between the British government and an independent Scotland: “Negoti- ations over the Common Travel Area would have to take place between Scotland and the UK, before Scotland could begin negotiations over an opt-out with the EU. One potential flash-point for dispute between Scot- land and the UK is immigration.” (Ibid., p. 26) There would be no auto- matic opt-out of the Schengen Area for Scotland either. A great number of researchers share the viewpoint that Scotland could be required to join the Schengen Area as part of EU membership. 7 For example, Robert E. Wright, Professor of Economics in the Strathclyde Business School, insisted that being part of this passport-free travel zone was now the norm in the EU, particularly as the non-EU countries, like Norway or
6. “The SIS is a highly efficient large-scale information system that supports external border con- trol and law enforcement cooperation in the Schengen States. The SIS enables competent author- ities, such as police and border guards, to enter and consult alerts on certain categories of wanted or missing persons and objects.” (European Commission) 7. This was confirmed by an EU constitutional affairs expert in September 2014 (Banks, 2014).
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Iceland, decided to join it in 2001. Besides, there have been no opt-outs of Schengen since Ireland and the UK in 1997 (Wright, 2013, pp. 52–3). Michael Keating added in 2013: What is clear is that Scotland, whether remaining in as a successor state or joining as a new member, would have to accept the acquis. Special dispen- sations and opt-outs are only available to existing members at the time of negotiating new policies. (Keating, 2013, p. 134) Not only would all member states have to agree to the terms of Scot- tish membership before it could join the EU, but this would also include favourable terms or opt-outs Scotland would like to be granted (House of Commons, 2014, p. 24). There were consequently few clear answers to the Scotland and EU/Schengen Area dilemma.
The threats of border controls and differing immigration policies
During the referendum campaign the question of border controls was raised regularly because of the lack of clarity on this issue and the fears aroused by the prospect of a poorly managed border between England and Scotland. This was not the first time such an argument had been made: these fears had been expressed since 2012. In March 2012, for example, in an interview with the BBC’s Sunday Politics Scotland, British Home Secretary Theresa May had suggested that: If there was a separate Scotland there could very well be some sort of border check, but what that would be, to what extent that would be necessary, would depend on the issues about whether Scotland was in Schengen. (BBC, 2012) Nevertheless, the prospect of the referendum further increased these concerns. This was exemplified by the statements made by several leading pol- iticians, supporting the Better Together campaign 8 and calling for the re-establishment of border controls at the Anglo-Scottish border, thus reviving thoughts of the Hadrian’s Wall built to separate the Romans
8. “Better Together” was the main umbrella organisation of the “No” camp during the ref- erendum campaign, including the Scottish Conservative Party, the Scottish Labour Party and the Scottish Liberal Democrats. It was established in June 2012 with support of the three main British parties. On the other hand, the “Yes Scotland” campaign, which was launched in Edinburgh on 25 May 2012, was an umbrella group rallying political parties, non-party organisations as well as individuals supporting independence. The campaign was an alliance of the governing Scottish National Party, the Scottish Green Party, and the Scottish Socialist Party.
18 | impact of scotland’s prospective membership of the eu on referendum debate from the Picts—a comparison repeatedly made in this debate (ITV, 2014; Peers, 2014). In March 2014 Theresa May stated that: “The British gov- ernment would expect passport checks between Scotland and England if a looser immigration policy were adopted north of the border after independence.” (Carrell, 2014) In June 2014 Labour leader Ed Miliband said that if he was in power, his government “would consider building border posts” if Scotland became independent and “would have to look at the issue of a border if the Scottish government achieved its goal of a looser immigration policy” (BBC, 2014a). This viewpoint was confirmed by David Cameron in September 2014 (Dearden, 2014). As referred to in the above mentioned quotes, the question of pass- ports and border controls was not the only problem. What also seemed sensitive was the prospect of a loose immigration policy adopted by an independent Scotland and, above all, the concern that immigration rules for both sides of the border would not be the same. Immigration thus emerged as another major issue in this campaign. Ed Miliband made it clear in June 2014: “It totally stands to reason. If you have markedly different immigration policies, obviously that becomes an issue between Scotland and the rest of the UK.” (BBC, 2014a). These fears were also alluded to by Theresa May: Buried deep in Alex Salmond’s white paper is the admission that, just like the last Labour government, a separate Scotland would pursue a looser immigra- tion policy. That would undermine the work we have done since 2010, and the continuing UK could not allow Scotland to become a convenient landing point for migration into the United Kingdom. (Cited in Carrell, 2014) Ed Miliband and Theresa May consequently highlighted that Scotland’s more open immigration policy could create a “back door” for entry into England, implying that people might travel to Scotland and then try to move south to England. Such a concern was justified insofar as the Cameron-Clegg government and the SNP did not seem to be willing to follow the same immigration policies. The Cameron-Clegg government had adopted a tough stance on immigration since May 2010. In their coalition programme, they had declared that immigration had to be controlled: The Government believes that immigration has enriched our culture and strengthened our economy, but that it must be controlled […]. We also re- cognize that to ensure cohesion and protect our public services, we need to introduce a cap on immigration and reduce the number of non-EU immi- grants. (HM Government, 2010, p. 21)
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As long as the UK remained in the EU, the government could do little or nothing in terms of immigration policy to impact EU migrant flows to (or from) the UK. Consequently, it suggested other measures such as: an annual limit on the number of non-EU economic migrants, the rein- troduction of exit checks or action to reduce abuse of the immigration system by students (Benyon, 2011, p. 141). On 23 November 2010 Home Secretary Theresa May made this objective quite clear when she said that the aim was to reduce annual non-EU migration “from the hun- dreds of thousands [196,000 in 2009], back down to the tens of thou- sands” (May, 2010). For example, she announced new rules aimed at setting an annual limit of 21,700 (a decrease by 6,300) for tier-one and tier-two migrants, particularly reducing tier-one migration, i.e. migrants without job offers, and at increasing financial maintenance thresholds for entry. She also focused on non-EU students who represented “almost two thirds of the non-EU migrants entering the UK each year” (ibid.). It was proposed that student visas would be limited to degree level with a more onerous regime for students at public and private colleges so as to cut the number of student visas issued each year—a cut of around 40% was expected (Benyon, 2011, p. 141). In an article published in Feb- ruary 2015, Jonathan Portes tried to assess the coalition government’s record on immigration. He highlighted that, even though the coalition government had not succeeded in reducing non-EU migration to the tens of thousands, they had managed to cut significantly student migration: The promise to cut net migration to the ‘tens of thousands’ was generally regarded by immigration policy experts as unachievable, or achievable only at an economic cost no sensible government was willing to pay. In practice, the latter course was never tested: resistance from within government from the Department of Business, supported to a greater or lesser extent by the Treasury, meant that even non-EU migration was only reduced very substan- tially for non-HE [Higher Education] students; for most other routes it has stabilised. Non-EU net migration is currently about 150,000 a year, slightly higher than EU net migration. This does not mean the policy changes had no impact: the increase in the regulatory burden on business and the education sector has been substantial, and has certainly resulted in some reduction in skilled and student migration. The most damaging single decision was probably the closing of the Post- Study Work Route 9. However, overall, any economic damage was consider- ably mitigated. (Portes, 2015)
9. This visa route, which was closed in 2012, allowed international students to work for up to two years after their studies.
20 | impact of scotland’s prospective membership of the eu on referendum debate
If the immigration policy of the British government was rather tough, the policy suggested by the SNP—in the advent of an independent Scot- land—seemed loose. Indeed, in June 2014 Alex Salmond hinted that Scotland would need to encourage immigration in order to expand the workforce and to finance the state pension (this amounted to a rise of 10%, from about 22,000 to 24,000 migrants a year)—a policy quite dif- ferent from that of the British government (Herald Scotland, 2014). This was also clearly mentioned in the document entitled Scotland’s Future since the Scottish government explained that they would introduce new meas- ures in this field in order to meet the Scottish needs: Scotland’s differing demographic and migration needs mean that the cur- rent UK immigration system has not served our interests. This Government plans, following independence, a points-based immigration system, targeted at particular Scottish needs. The system will enable us to meet the needs of Scottish society with greater flexibility. For example, it could provide incen- tives to migrants who move to live and work in remoter geographical areas [of Scotland]. (Scottish Government, 2013b, p. 16) The SNP considered a rise in immigration, which would contribute to population growth, as essential to Scotland’s economy (ibid., p. 267). Thus, the SNP wanted to reintroduce the post-study work visa to attract high quality international students and encourage more foreign graduates to remain in Scotland after finishing further education (ibid., p. 256). Furthermore, they planned to lower the current financial maintenance thresholds and minimum salary levels for entry so as to encourage skilled individuals to move to Scotland (ibid., p. 270).
Limited room for manoeuvre
These differing priorities in terms of immigration policies could have been problematic if Scotland had become independent. Nevertheless, tensions should not be exaggerated. Indeed, Scotland would probably have remained part of the EU and/or of the CTA, which means that it would not really have been able to decide its own immigration rules. 10 The Scottish government seemed to be well aware of these constraints. Thus, in Scotland’s Future, they highlighted that negotiations would be needed if Scotland was to remain part of the CTA:
10. As a country part of the UK, Scotland has never been able to decide its immigration policy, which is one of “the reserved powers”. Immigration policy is decided by the British Government.
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The current CTA between the UK and Ireland is based on administrative arrangements […] These arrangements are reflected in the UK’s immigra- tion laws (and those of the Republic of Ireland) and could be replicated by an independent Scotland in due course. Within the CTA, an independent Scotland will work with the Westminster and Irish Governments to ensure that visa and immigration controls meet certain shared standards. The detail of this would require negotiation but full harmonization is not required. (Ibid., p. 224) Regarding the EU, one should not forget that Scotland, like the UK and other EU member states, has to follow the rules which are embodied in the Lisbon Treaty and which are enforced by Directives and Regu- lations, “the most important forms of binding EU Law issued by the European Union Council of Ministers and the European Parliament” (Wright, 2013, p. 47). Scotland has to respect the treaty provisions relating to freedom of movement for citizens of member states and to allow EU citizens to enter the country as the UK presently does. This would also mean, as mentioned by Jim Gallagher that: […] as a member of the EU, the views of other member states on substantial in migration from third countries would be a constraint. An independent Scotland would have to adopt the EU’s common approach to migration and the resultant harmonisation of immigration and asylum policies. (Gallagher, 2013, p. 4) The two main principles of the EU immigration policies are based on: “defining a balanced approach to immigration” so as to deal with legal migration and fight illegal immigration, and respecting “the principle of solidarity and fair sharing of responsibility” (Europa, 2015c). Scotland would have to respect these principles as well as the new measures pro- posed by the European Commission to solve the migration problems, and more particularly the crisis in the Mediterranean—immigration having been made a central priority at the EU level. These constraints would have an impact on Scotland’s ability to determine its immigration policy: […] if Scotland were a separate, independent state it would have legal power over migration and citizenship issues, but in practice its scope to diverge from EU and UK rules and approaches would be greatly constrained in practical and political terms. (Ibid.) Finally, Scotland would have to take into account the attitude of Scot- tish public opinion towards immigration. According to a survey of atti- tudes carried out by YouGov in October 2013, the majority of Scots (58%) supported reductions to immigration to Scotland—even though
22 | impact of scotland’s prospective membership of the eu on referendum debate the extent of support for such a position was stronger in England and Wales (75%) (Ryan, 2014, p. 163; Blinder, 2014, pp. 5–6).
Reasons for the use of the immigration issue in the referendum debate
Even though the concerns raised by the prospect that Scotland might not be able to control its borders and migration policies were exaggerated, they were aroused by several factors which induced the pro-UK camp to make immigration a major issue in the referendum campaign, as exem- plified by Alex Salmond’s complaints that “immigration was being used as a ‘weapon’ to stoke up fears about independence” (BBC, 2014b). First, immigration was one of the main concerns of British voters. According to the IPSOS-MORI polls carried out in June, July, August and September 2014, race/immigration was even considered as the most important issue facing the UK (36% of the respondents cited it as the most important issue in July while economy was mentioned by 32% and the NHS by 27% of the public) (IPSOS MORI, 2014). Second, the concern over immigration was fueled by the migrant crisis in Calais, the nearest French port to England, from where thousands of migrants attempted (and still attempt) to cross the Channel in order to reach England. This issue particularly made the headlines in July, August, and in early September 2014 when about 230 illegal migrants tried to force their way onto a ferry bound for England (BBC, 2014c). Third, the United Kingdom Independence Party (UKIP)’s discourse on immigration might have influenced the main British parties and British voters in this debate. Even if this right-wing party claims it is a civic na- tionalist party, it supports a tough immigration policy, promising “a five- year ban on people coming to settle in Britain while immigration policy is sorted out”, suggesting that “all immigrants should be banned from claiming benefits for five years after their arrival” or “improvements to border checks” in January 2014 (Wintour, 2014). This might be all the more likely as UKIP has become increasingly popular since 2013. One should not forget that the independence referendum took place a few months after the 2014 European elections, where UKIP gained the most votes in the UK (27.49%) and 24 MEPS (including its first MEP in Scot- land, David Coburn).
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Conclusion
The border and immigration issues played a major role in the Scottish independence campaign insofar as states and borders are inextricably linked and many questions remained unanswered about Scotland’s pro- spective EU membership, membership of the Schengen Area and mem- bership of the CTA. Even though it was obvious Scotland wanted to remain in the EU and within the CTA, uncertainty remained about what was possible and about the conditions for membership. This lack of clarity enabled the pro-UK camp to make border checks and immigration key issues in the referendum campaign. Not only did they use the threat of border controls to make Scottish voters aware of the impact of inde- pendence on Scotland’s borders, highlighting that “a literal and figura- tive border” 11 would be created between England and Scotland, but they also hinted that an independent Scotland could leave the way open to a great number of migrants, either because the Scottish government would follow looser immigration policies than the rest of the UK or because Scotland’s borders would be poorly managed. Despite the referendum defeat, the idea of holding a referendum on Scottish independence has not been abandoned. In November 2014 Nicola Sturgeon, the new SNP leader, 12 said her top priority would be campaigning for separation and she suggested that a second referendum could be organized (Johnson, 2014). If that happened, the questions regarding borders and immigration would have to be settled so as to ensure that Scottish voters know what an independent Scotland means.
Bibliography
Works and articles Benyon John, 2011, “The Con-Lib Agenda for Home Affairs”, in S. Lee and M. Beech (eds), The Cameron-Clegg Government. Coalition Politics in an Age of Austerity, Basingstoke, Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 134–52. Blinder Scott, 2014, “Immigration and Independence: Public Opinion on Immigration in Scotland in the Context of the Referendum De- bate”, Report, Oxford, Migration Observatory.
11. This was one of the statements made by British Home Secretary Theresa May (Riley-Smith, 2014). 12. Following the defeat, Alex Salmond decided to resign. He was succeeded by Nicola Sturgeon in November 2014.
24 | impact of scotland’s prospective membership of the eu on referendum debate
Bogdanor Vernon, 2012, The New British Constitution, Portland, Hart Pub- lishing, 2nd ed. Bulmer Simon et al., 2006, “UK Devolution and the European Union: A Tale of Cooperative Asymmetry?”, Publius, vol. 36, no. 1, pp. 75–93. Caflish Lucius, 2006, “A Typology of Borders”, Conference, pp. 1–12. Available on
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Available on
Newspaper articles Banks Martin, 2014 (16 September), “Scotland ‘Risks Losing’ Opt-Outs on Euro and Schengen if It Splits from UK, Warns EU Expert”, The Telegraph. Available on
26 | impact of scotland’s prospective membership of the eu on referendum debate
—, 2014c (4 September), “Calais Migrants Foiled As They Try to Storm Ferry”. Available on
Websites Europa, 2015a:
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—, 2015c:
Blog Peers Steve, 2014 (17 March), “Rebuilding Hadrian’s Wall? The Effect of Scottish Independence on British Border Control”:
28 | Michael Pugh University of the West of Scotland
Civic Borders and Imagined Communities: Continuity and Change in Scotland’s Municipal Boundaries, Jurisdictions and Structures — from 19th-Century “General Police” to 21st-Century “Community Empowerment”
Much recent scrutiny has been given to the significance of the external border between Scotland and the rest of the continuing United Kingdom, given the debates surrounding the 2014 Scottish Referendum and its aftermath (see for example Black, 2014). However, Scotland’s internal borders in the form of local authority boundaries, and the often-fuzzy politico-legal line between the responsibilities and powers of Scotland’s national (devolved) government and its 32 unitary local authorities merit attention also (see maps at Scottish Government undated, and Undis covered Scotland, undated — hyperlinks in bibliography). Any such ana- lysis must take cognisance of these local authorities’ historical antecedents, if it is to comprehend the patterns of institutional and cultural continuity and change which have marked their development into their present forms, and to fully appreciate their contemporary challenges. This article delineates the broad contours of continuity and change in Scotland’s local state organisation. It draws on existing politico-historical research, using this to better illuminate the problems and opportunities faced by this often under-examined sphere of government, not least contempo- rary debates on “community empowerment”. It begins by considering the emergence of recognisably modern (Victorian) local government in Scotland, before delineating the major organisational and institutional changes to the system, leading ultimately to the current disposition. The roles, status and functions of Scottish local government as it has developed since 1833 have often proved complex, contested and con- tingent, whilst remaining intimately connected to the long debate over Scotland’s status within (or potentially outside) the Westminster state itself. In this context, Morton highlighted that the nineteenth-century
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Scottish local state represented a key outlet for the patriotic energies of middle-class Scots, who saw in it an opportunity to make the 1707 union settlement work in their interests via local civic nationalism, rather than breaking up the union or devolving power from Westminster (1996, 1999). Over time, Scottish local government institutions became increasingly, if not always willingly, more democratically accountable (Pugh, 2014b, p. 4; Atkinson, 1904, p. 31). Meanwhile, population changes accompanying industrialisation and urbanisation were reflected in progressive legisla- tive concessions to local self-government in newer communities. These sought the means to form local municipal bodies to address pressing problems of public order and, increasingly, public health. John Stuart Mill wrote of the merits of locally accountable representative bodies, on the basis that they would serve as a bulwark against the tyranny of the majority, and, more anti-democratically, as a guarantor of expert govern- ance by educated local elites (2001, pp. 168–80). Across the party divide, Benjamin Disraeli also fondly viewed locally self-governed communities as an important building block of society (Parry, 2007, p. 30). Abroad, Alexis de Tocqueville and Rudolph Gneist separately extolled the virtues of local self-government as a mechanism for moderate, middle-class rule (de Tocqueville, 1998 [1831] chapter 4; Schmitt, 2008, p. 332). Yet as the nineteenth century progressed, local self-government was eclipsed by newer ideas in the form of municipal socialism and pro- gressivism, resulting in centralising impulses and territorial consolida- tions, especially in and around Glasgow and Edinburgh (see for instance Pugh, 2014a, passim and 2014b, pp. 4–6). (For more information on mu- nicipal socialism, see Fraser, 1993.) Successive local government reorgan- isations in the twentieth-century created municipal structures seen to be increasingly distant, literally and figuratively, from their local citizens, by circa 2000. Given this disconnect, key actors in the sphere of Scottish local government, including the Scottish Parliament, the Convention of Scottish Local Authorities (COSLA), and non-governmental organisa- tions, such as the Jimmy Reid Foundation, have published reflections, reports and recommendations on optimising local democracy and effi- ciency, community identity and civic voluntarism with mass democracy in a digital age (see COSLA, 2014; Scottish Parliament, 2014; Gallacher et al., 2007, passim; Newton, 1982, passim; and Bort et al., 2012, passim). 1 This article contextualises these debates by offering a long view of the development of Scotland’s local government institutions, paying especial
1. For an England and Wales perspective on the same issues see also Stoker & Wilson (2004, passim).
30 | civic borders and imagined communities attention to the themes of borders, jurisdictions, democracy, efficiency and power. It examines the emergence of recognisably modern local state apparatus from circa 1833, and the implications of the haphazard terri- torial spread of local government, especially for competing jurisdictions and community identity, as centralising impulses grew more powerful. The analysis then turns to three successive (20s, 70s, 90s) twentieth- century reorganisations, culminating in the contemporary context of 32 unitary authorities and the debate over how best to realise aspirations of “community empowerment”. This longer view of the migration of municipal borders, jurisdictions and, the evolving legislative context in which these have developed, allows for a more nuanced and reflective consideration of the persistent nature of the challenges encountered by Scottish local democracy. Thus, it offers a concise historical analysis of the constraints and opportunities it faces under the current system, and in straitened economic times.
The limits of fragmentary nineteenth-century local self-government
Before 1832, local governance in Scotland’s counties, as distinct from its established urban burghs, was conducted remotely by the Commissioners of Supply, with Justices of the Peace (JPs) as the most local arbiters of county administration (Whetstone, 1981, pp. 89–94 and 49–58). The urban burghs fell into two categories: royal burghs, whose status derived from the crown, and burghs of barony and regality, whose status derived from aristocratic patronage. Scottish JPs, despite holding the same formal powers as their English counterparts, had comparatively little influence and prestige (Urquhart, 1992 pp. 2–3). Mabel Atkinson, the early twentieth-century Fabian scholar of Scottish local administration, noted that this form of county govern- ment was one where most inhabitants had “no voice”, and with no powers over public health, lighting or paving (1904, p. 74). In that context, she averred it was unsurprising that “all the villages wanted to be made into burghs, with the right to provide these things for themselves” (ibid.). From 1771 to 1832, in the continuing absence of a Scottish legislative frame- work for local governance, and with industrialisation and urbanisation occurring at different speed and intensity in different places, a variety of larger and established burghs moved to secure “police” powers via bespoke local Acts of Parliament (Urquhart, 1991b, p. 5). The term “police” in this context derived from the Greek politieia or the Latin politia, with a much wider meaning than its contemporary one
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(ibid., p. 2). Police acts allowed the creation and empowerment of local authorities to deal with matters including crime and punishment, water supplies, paving, lighting and maintenance of streets, sewers, drainage and cleansing, nuisance control and general public health. Communities could request the powers that appeared most relevant to their particular local circumstances. By 1832, towns as diverse as Glasgow, Edinburgh, Greenock, Paisley, Kilmarnock and Leith, amongst others, had secured such acts (ibid., p. 5). By then, it was clear that a general police act for Scot- land, from which all communities could obtain the powers they needed, would be cheaper and more effective, not to mention less demanding of parliamentary and local citizens’ time, than the then-extant patchwork of ad hoc local acts (Pugh, 2014b). In 1831, the Convention of Royal Burghs (the then representative body for Scottish local government institutions) pressed unanimously for such legislation to be passed urgently (Urquhart, 1991b, p. 5). The Whigs’ overwhelming victory in the landmark 1832 general election galvanised the cause of parliamentary and municipal reform. The resulting Burgh Police (Scotland) Act of 1833 embodied the liberal notion that a town’s inhabitants should be empowered to iden- tify their local concerns and priorities, deciding via representatives what funding should be allocated (Urquhart, 1991a, p. 99 and McCaffrey, 1998, p. 27). The Act was pioneering in the United Kingdom context: both for the range of issues it empowered localities to tackle, and for the discretion, flexibility and relative autonomy it entailed contrasting with subsequent English public health laws (Prest, 1990, pp. 188–9). Yet it was more effec- tive in principle than in practice, due to significant defects in its design: a restricted franchise, limited powers over local taxation and borrowing, as well as a lack of ability to enforce decisions relating to public health and nuisances. Even Scotland’s larger towns found themselves unable to fund major schemes for water, sewers and drainage (Urquhart, 1991b, p. 99). Moreover, the selective franchise (initially £10 upwards on rental) meant that the improvements implemented tended to focus on the most affluent streets and neighbourhoods least likely to require them (McCaffrey, 1998, p. 28). New towns like Johnstone and Galston were not covered by the legislation (ibid.). So, after minor refinements in 1847 and 1850, the need for a new act granting more extensive and wider-ranging powers was widely acknowledged. Before discussing the legislative framework that emerged from this, it is important to consider some of the ramifications of the often arbitrary and irrational municipal and county borders, bound aries and jurisdictions that permeated the 1833 General Police Act and, as is seen below, continued to inform its successor Acts well into the twen- tieth century.
32 | civic borders and imagined communities
The local autonomy conceded under such legislation was typically conditional and circumscribed in practice. The United Kingdom’s largely uncodified constitution then, as at this writing, vested sovereignty in the Westminster Parliament, without entrenching powers at “subordinate” levels of government (Smith, 2005, p. 46). Moreover, the decision to grant a locality “police burgh” status and/or police powers were for the county sheriffs, reinforcing that such municipalities exercised only del- egated authority within legislative constraints (Atkinson, 1904, p. 78). For instance, local taxes could only be raised for pre-approved purposes, although contributions could be sought for “voluntary” projects in local tax demand letters (ibid.). The formal subordination of police burgh to county administration impeded rational governance. For example, Kin- ning Park, a neighbourhood on Glasgow’s southside, adjacent to the then police burgh of Govan, itself became a police burgh in 1871. This was largely because its location in Renfrewshire doomed attempts to amal- gamate it with Govan (Maver, 1990, p. 132). The general police legisla- tion did not entertain burghs forming across county lines, even where this would have been most practicable or desirable. There were also symbolic and ceremonial indications of the contingent status of Scotland’s new municipal institutions. Until 1900, police burgh representatives were not formally permitted to style themselves as provost (chief magistrate, equivalent to mayor), bailie (magistrate) or councillor. Rather, they were more mundanely described as chief magistrate, junior magistrate and (police) commissioner, respec- tively (Maver, 2008, pp. 92–3). This did not deter police burgh leaders from adopting these honorifics, nor indeed from adopting the municipal coats of arms that were also formally denied them until 1900 (ibid., p. 92). Maver argues that these practices were no accident, given they “con- ferred gravitas and suggested a sense of history to fledgling communities” which, alongside the erection of custom-built town halls promoted “a tangible sense of municipal authority” (ibid., p. 36). As such, “tradition was often invented to reinforce municipal values on the public conscious- ness” (Maver, 2007, p. 30). This resonates with Cohen’s reflection that ritual and symbolism together play central parts in the affirmation and reinforcement of community boundaries, which for the purposes of this article are broadly defined as both literal and jurisdictional (Cohen, 1998, p. 50). Claims to longstanding provenance were prominent in police burgh leaders’ rhetoric and demeanour, resonating with Hobsbawm’s definition of “invented tradition” as, essentially, an attempt “to establish continuity with a[n ideologically] suitable historic past” (1992, p. 1). There was, in short, something about the very modernity of the legislation enabling the creation of so many new municipal bodies that seemed to demand their
| 33 études écossaises 18 swift cloaking in ersatz historical provenance and ceremony. But this does not detract from the wider importance of the General Police Act and its later iterations. For all its flaws, the 1833 Act had, probably most importantly, con- ceded the broad principle of local self-government (Urquhart, 1991a, p. 100; Pugh, 2014a, pp. 40–3). Morton has emphasised the importance of appreciating the “complexity of mid-Victorian government”, and its “decentralised” nature in Scotland’s urban communities, where the role and importance of civil society and civic nationalism were growing (Morton, 1996, p. 259). Here was a Scottish version of what was later termed “civic republicanism”, where administration is entrusted to the people of a community, through representatives (see Delanty, 2003, pp. 81–6). In legislative terms, the need for an enabling framework for local self-government had secured widespread acceptance—even pop- ularity—by 1850, when an improved Police of Towns (Scotland) Act was passed (Urquhart, 1991a, pp. 2–4). The 1862 General Police and Improvement (Scotland) Act represented the most significant Scottish legislation of Prime Minister Palmerston’s administration, but owed its animal spirit to Leith Burghs’ provost William Lindsay (Urquhart, 1991b, p. 13). Lindsay had become frustrated by the limitations of the existing legis- lation when attempting to improve working-class housing and public health, taking inspiration from the 1858 English Local Government Act, which allowed communities to seek “provisional orders” to proactively address such issues (Campbell Irons, 1896, pp. 531–4). This English legis- lation had been inspired in turn by Scotland’s pioneering general police acts, indicating reciprocal emulation and innovation across the Scottish- English border (Prest, 1990, p. 46). Lindsay’s bill was drafted and con- sulted on extensively at considerable personal expense, made possible by his occupation as a wealthy shipwright (Urquhart, 1990, pp. 16–17). Although it encountered some turbulence and revisions in the House of Lords, the bill was soon enacted. As well as securing and consolidating the ethos of the earlier general police laws, it—in contrast to these—provided a mechanism for ongoing revisions to be made as required (Urquhart, 1991b, p. 17). Until the 1880s, Lindsay was instrumental in shaping later iterations of the Act; his work significantly influenced the 1892 Burgh Police (Scotland) Act. McCaffrey noted that the Lindsay Act and its later iterations led to 185 towns, 84 of which were not burghs, improving their local conditions and it was essentially this act that created Scotland’s “typical Victorian urban landscape of baronial town halls and regular paved streets lined with rows of stone tenements, shops and pubs” (1998, p. 17). It led to the formation of four brand new police burghs, ranging
34 | civic borders and imagined communities in population from Kingussie, Inverness-shire with 700 souls at incorpo- ration, to Clydebank, Dunbartonshire, at 10,000 (Urquhart, 1991, p. 2). The flexibility embodied in the 1862 act entailed significant variations in the extent to which police powers were adopted across Scotland. Popu- lous places, like the districts of Partick and Govan, near Glasgow, became police burghs, whilst the jurisdictions of some established burghs over- lapped with nearby police burghs (but not, of course, across county lines), such as in Dumfries and Maxwelltown (Urquhart, 1991b, p. 2). The co- existence of police and more established burgh communities could be the focus of both resentment and mockery; sometimes simultaneously. The emergence of a distinctively Scottish “town hall mentality”, where burghs and their representatives were seen as the focal point of local public life, was noted especially in newer communities (1991, p. 433). For example, the Glasgow Bailie’s columnists grew “quite apoplectic” at the thought of residents from burghs surrounding the city benefitting from its amenities such as public parks without paying for their upkeep (Burgess, 1998, p. 60). The pretentions and absurdities discerned in such parvenu communities’ civic leadership were encapsulated in the columns of fictional Bailie correspondent “Jeems Kaye”, whose “adventures and opinions”, from 1876 until the late 1880s, were eventually compiled in three books (ibid., p. 62). The author was Archibald Macmillan, a commission agent with a Glasgow business address but resident on the Ayrshire coast, who wrote prolifically for periodicals. His fictional alter- ego was a coal-merchant in the real Glasgow district—though never actually a burgh—of Strathbungo. It is likely that fictionalised Strath- bungo was a thinly disguised version of Crosshill on the city’s south-side. Kaye, typifying a self-made “good citizen”, became heavily embroiled in local politics, serving variously as a juryman, school board member, census enumerator, corporal in the Royal Volunteers (in which guise he was knighted by Queen Victoria), a canvasser, and later unsuccessful can- didate in parliamentary elections. He ended his public career as “Lieu- tenant Colonel Sir Jeems Kaye, self-styled provost (see the discussion of burgh nomenclature above) of Strathbungo” (ibid., p. 64). As a bailie, he successfully defended his burgh from annexation by Glasgow at the 1888 boundary commission. This echoed real life politico-legal tussles arising from the city’s long-running campaign to consolidate outlying districts under a centralised administration run on rational lines. The general police Acts’ flexibility in response to emerging local needs, rather than national imperatives, was a source of both strength and weak- ness. Complications arising from a lack of central oversight included wide variations between burghs in population size and territorial coverage, and a patchwork of sometimes overlapping municipal boundaries and
| 35 études écossaises 18 jurisdictions. This fostered confusion and politico-legal conflict, given the jealousy with which many police burghs guarded their “independence” even (especially) when their incorporation into larger, consolidated local authorities, benefitting from economies of scale, would have made more objective sense. The Victorian convention (which did not persist beyond the First World War) that Parliament would not assent to the abolition of a municipality without the consent of local citizens—via their represent- atives—was in many ways laudable. But it could hinder needed public works and the introduction of progressive local taxation. Atkinson argued that the police burgh procedure “stretched local autonomy too far”, given inhabitants of overcrowded districts might ob- ject to the cost of their rational administration (Atkinson, 1904, pp. 75-7). Nor, she felt, should small areas have had the absolute right to declare themselves burghs. Whilst the inhabitants’ wishes “ought to be most seri- ously considered [they were] not the sole determining factor”. In the history of Glasgow and its surrounding police burghs, Atkinson instanced many drawbacks of police burgh administration, and its persistence in the face of what she considered to be more efficient, up-scaled and cen- tralised administration (1904, passim). Notwithstanding Atkinson’s frus- trations, there were other, albeit less tangible factors explaining the police burghs’ longevity despite the onslaughts of municipal socialism and na- tional efficiency which doomed them. 2 Similar territorial consolidation was entailed in Edinburgh’s “reabsorption” of neighbouring Leith in 1920 (Maver, 2008, p. 42). One reason Glasgow’s surrounding burghs survived various boundary commissions was by countering the city’s arguments about “community of interest”. They did so by invoking antiquarian histories of their com- munities’ pre-police burgh antecedents, which they claimed gave them at least as much legitimacy and right to exist independently as the city itself. Govan and Partick, the two largest and most populous police burghs bordering the city, as well as two of only nine Scottish communities— including Glasgow and Edinburgh—to have populations above 50,000 in 1900, were the most effective players at this game, and therefore the last burghs to be annexed (see Pugh 2014a, pp. 52–4). A related idea to Hobsbawm’s “invented tradition”, germane here, is Anderson’s con- cept of “simultaneity” (1991, p. 24–7). Simultaneity explains community cohesion predicated more on sentimental and emotional ties than formal politico-legal ones (ibid.). Emotive ties often entail particular understand- ings of past events and contemporary institutions and practices, which
2. For detailed analysis of the rise and fall of the police burghs surrounding Glasgow, see Pugh (2014a and 2014b).
36 | civic borders and imagined communities would not necessarily be seen by outside observers as causally connected. So simultaneity is more organic than the ceremonial contrivance marking Hobsbawm’s “invented tradition”, but both concepts together can help academics understand communities’ resilience. During their annexation battles, Govan and Partick’s civic leaders made much of their communi- ties’ genuinely ancient (harking back to the Viking and medieval periods, respectively) provenance, belying their much more recent police burgh status (Pugh, 2014a, p. 53). Both burghs’ local newspapers played a key role in promoting awareness of this antiquarian legacy (Pugh, 2011). Sim- ultaneity and invented tradition are useful for making sense of commu- nity identity in Scottish localities throughout the upheavals of twentieth- century local government reorganisation, to which this analysis now turns.
Democracy versus efficiency: twentieth-century developments
Scotland’s Victorian and Edwardian local state apparatus gradually be- came more rational and democratic, whilst remaining grounded in the country’s naturally occurring communities. For all the emphasis on local self-government, the autonomy of Scotland’s burghs was only relative, circumscribed by a complex legislative framework, and encroached on by an array of joint boards and commissions dealing with shared respon- sibilities for turnpikes, county roads, police, prisons and school boards. McConnell noted that this system was “exceptionally complicated and diverse”, and overlain by a “virtually incomprehensible combination of shires, sheriffdoms, parishes, towns and counties” (2004, p. 46). In par- ticular, the centralised system of county council and parish council admin- istration implemented in the 1890s was seen by rising Labour politician and former Kirkintilloch magistrate Thomas Johnston, as inimical to grass-roots involvement in local politics and stifling of policy innovation (Maver, 2008, p. 42). The 1929 Local Government (Scotland) Act sought to streamline this system, such that 869 parish councils, 33 county coun- cils and 200 burgh councils were replaced by 21 large burgh councils, 176 small burgh councils, three county councils and 196 district councils (Pugh, 2014b, p. 6). Overlapping arrangements remained for services like police, fire, valuation and social work. These changes had been politically controversial, and the Convention of Royal Burghs (COSLA’s predecessor body), led by Hamilton Provost Sir Henry Keith, successfully secured multiple amendments to the orig- inal bill, diluting its stronger centralising tendencies and “preserving the integrity of the prevailing system” (Maver, 2008, p. 42). Labour and the
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Liberals formally opposed the bill, and many commentators objected to the elimination of smaller-scale local government institutions. But the government emphasised the supposed resulting gains in efficiency and professionalism, seeking to impress businessmen. Hutchinson noted the latter “resented local taxes and were themselves amalgamating and consolidating [their firms]” (2001, p. 52; Torrance, 2006, p. 116). The new distinction between “small” and “large” burghs, the latter of which, with populations below 20,000, had reduced status and powers, echoed Mabel Atkinson’s earlier criticisms of the patchwork distribution of local government institutions (ibid., p. 42). Given similarly unpopular reforms were passed for England the same year, it is probable the backlash on both sides of the border contributed to the defeat of the Baldwin govern- ment at that year’s general election (Pottinger, 1979, p. 35). As was seen above, Morton highlighted that nineteenth-century local self-government played a key role in sublimating demands for national self-government (in the form of a Scottish parliament or assembly). Such sublimation of overt nationalism had its limits, as was suggested in the involvement of Provosts Keith and Sir Alexander MacEwen (Inverness) in founding the Scottish Self-Government Party in 1932 (Maver, 2007, p. 43). Within a few years this party amalgamated with the new Scottish National Party (SNP), and both provosts had been inspired to found it by what they perceived as the “degrading” of the burghs as distinctively Scottish institutions. This di- minution of Scottish local government’s status and autonomy, in the face of greater control and restructuring by the Scottish Office on behalf of successive UK governments, characterised the remainder of the century, as is seen below. The advent of near universal adult suffrage, combined with the dom- inance of Keynesian economics and state intervention after the Second World War, saw local government throughout the United Kingdom ac- quire wider responsibilities and even less overall discretion than before (White, 2004). The new functions included, among others, town planning, social services and economic development (McConnell, 2004, p. 47). The 1960s Labour governments of Prime Minister Harold Wilson, with their vaunted focus on long-term planning and regional development, seri- ously doubted Scottish local government’s capacity to achieve these goals in its then form (Pottinger, 1979, p. 178; McConnell, 2004, p. 47; Maver, 2008, p. 44). In 1966, Labour’s Lord Wheatley was appointed head of a Royal Commission to investigate its structures, functions and possible reforms. The Wheatley report opened with the ominous—and, as is seen below, still resonant—assertions that something was “seriously wrong” with Scottish local government, and “a completely new structure” was needed (Wheatley, 1969, p. 1). It drew renewed attention to convoluted
38 | civic borders and imagined communities and inefficient structures built on arbitrary boundaries, which provoked conflict and inhibited smooth working across and between authorities (ibid., p. 32–4). It also challenged the large number of needlessly small local authorities, duplicating resources. Wheatley averred that all these problems meant the central state was, perhaps paradoxically, too involved in the minutiae of local governance: even if only to iron out jurisdic- tional disputes and inefficiencies in resource distribution (ibid., pp. 32-4). Wheatley further criticised the archaic workings of Scottish local author- ities, predicated on “nineteenth-century elements” as barriers to public understanding and participation in local politics by ordinary citizens (ibid.). Despite all this, Wheatley recognised the importance of a sense of local community embodied in municipal institutions, declaring that “a burgh does not cease to be a burgh because it is no longer a self-contained unit of local government” (ibid., p. 263; Maver, 2007, p. 44). Such sensitivity towards local feeling did not prevent Wheatley pro- posing systemic reforms, including the formal abolition of the burghs and counties, which were replaced with a two-tier structure of large regional councils overarching various smaller district councils. The regional coun- cils took responsibility for major planning, water and sewage, education, social work, housing, police and fire, realising previously untapped eco- nomies of scale, whereas the district councils focused on more localised services like local planning, housing improvement, parks and leisure, envi- ronmental health and licensing (McConnell, 2004, p. 48). Beneath these two tiers, which were compulsory in the Local Government (Scotland) Act 1973 (passed with Wheatley’s proposals largely intact under Con- servative Prime Minister Edward Heath, reflecting a degree of bipartisan consensus on local government reform in this period), local communities also had the option to establish community councils (Pugh, 2014b, p. 7; McConnell, 2004, p. 49; Pottinger, 1979, pp. 177–8). These new bodies seemed to reconcile the voluntary and permissive aspects of the nine- teenth-century framework with the deliberative scrutiny of councillors’ voting and administrative records in the old ward system, but in a twen- tieth-century context (Pugh, 2014b, p. 7). It is perhaps no coincidence that, while the two-tier structure lasted only three decades, community councils still survive at the time of writing, despite their lack of statutory powers. Under the 1973 act, nine regions and 53 districts were estab- lished in 1975, as well as three unitary, all-purpose authorities for Orkney, Shetland and the Western Isles (McConnell, 2004, p. 49). By 1983, over 1,000 community councils had been set up, serving eight in ten Scots. In their early years, the new structures were criticised for perceived bureau- cracy and remoteness from local people by the SNP, the Liberals and sections of the media, although this was debatable (McConnell, 2004,
| 39 études écossaises 18 p. 49). The most abominable aspect of the new structures, as far as their critics were concerned, was the leviathan Strathclyde Regional Council, covering half of Scotland’s population in the central belt (Pottinger 1979, p. 178). If balancing local democracy and economic efficiency is diffi- cult, some systems come closer to achieving this than others (see Pugh, 2014b, passim). In this context, the two-tier structure recommended by Wheatley was innovative, even if the drawing of regional boundaries was problematic. Whilst the Wheatley reforms’ critics had their grounds, so did those of the 1990s reorganisation, without similar levels of consultation or cross- party support. Just as the earlier shakeups in Scottish local government organisation had been influenced by fluctuating support for home rule, so was the move to the post-1996 structure of 32 unitary authorities. Margaret Thatcher, visiting Edinburgh soon after her appointment as Prime Minister in 1979, had promised “all-party talks aimed at bringing government closer to the people”, as an alternative to Labour’s aborted devolution proposals (Thatcher, 1993, pp. 35–6). However disingenuously, she conceded in her memoirs that “in the event we did so by rolling back the frontiers of the state”. The Scottish Constitutional Convention of 1989–1995 was not quite ‘all-party’, given the SNP’s withdrawal from it, and the Conservatives’ refusal to participate. But it did involve other parties and a wide range of groups from civil society, including local authorities via their representative body, COSLA, which contributed significantly to its funding. A significant outcome of the Convention was agreement, between Scottish Labour, Scottish Liberal Democrats and the SNP, that the introduction of legislative devolution in the shape of a Scottish parliament would justify the abolition of the two-tier structure (McConnell, 2004, p. 50). This was in large part to deflect accusations that legislative devolution would merely add another layer of elected politicians and, in essence, to avoid charges of over-governing. Conversely, the Conservative-controlled Scottish Office was tempted to abolish large local government regions like Labour-controlled Strath- clyde, covering over 40% of Scotland’s population in the central belt. The concurring policies of rival parties made the Conservatives wary of pursuing this strategy, but ultimately did not deter them. From 1991, Scottish Secretary Ian Lang and the Scottish party leadership proceeded on these lines with minimal consultation. Opposition to the changes was muted, given that Labour and the Liberal Democrats supported unitary authorities, albeit they viewed them as a corollary to legislative devolution (McConnell, 2004, p. 49). The new structure took effect on 1 April 1996, following the Local Government (Scotland) Act 1994. The extent to which it resulted in a simplified, streamlined structure with local services gath-
40 | civic borders and imagined communities ered under “one roof ” is contested, given the persistence of an unelected “second tier” above the unitaries in the form of (unelected) institutional cooperation between local authorities. Moreover, several commentators, not least the social democratic Reid Foundation, have highlighted low public awareness and understanding of local government structures and processes, as well as low participation in local elections (Bort et al., 2012, pp. 5–9). The Foundation’s 2012 report on the “silent crisis” of Scottish local democracy paints a gloomy picture (ibid., p. 4): [We] find a country which by many measures has one of the weakest local democracies in Europe. The distance between where people live and their first ‘local’ democratic structure is, in some cases, greater than the distance across entire EU nations. The number of people it takes to elect a single councillor is ten times the European average. When local government in Scotland builds a ‘local’ school, it seems never to build just one. Instead it waits until it can build half a dozen schools in one contract as if a ‘big box’ approach is inherently better for everyone by dint of not being a local solution. The long-awaited arrival of legislative devolution in 1999 did little to address these difficulties; indeed MacDonald noted that the arrival of the Scottish Executive / Government cemented the “Cinderella role” of Scottish local government in national life (2009, p. 199). In many ways, the power of policy initiative had migrated towards central / national government, whilst market reforms tended to recast local inhabitants as consumers rather than citizens (ibid.). There is irony here, given COSLA’s leading role in the Scottish Constitutional Convention, which was in many ways midwife to the devolved Scottish Parliament (House of Commons, 2003; see also Gay et al., 1995, passim). This illumines both the long- standing strength of the connections between local government arrange- ments and wider constitutional questions, and that, to an extent, Scottish local government could be viewed as acting against its own interests in helping to establish the new Parliament. These centralising tendencies have been taken still further in the creation of Scottish national policing (Police Scotland) and Fire (Scottish Fire and Rescue) services—the effi- cacy and local accountability of which remain contested (see for example Dickie, 2015). (Readers seeking detailed information on relations between local authorities and the Holyrood Parliament in the devolved context should consult COSLA, 2014a, and Scottish Parliament, 2014.)
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Plus ça change ? Twenty-first century “community empowerment”
Since the 1970s there has been a greater degree of consensus between Scotland’s political parties on the roles, structures, powers and constitu- tional status of local government than they would tend to admit. As was noted above, the Wheatley reforms were implemented on a bipartisan basis by a Conservative government, despite being originally commis- sioned by the preceding Labour government. Similarly, albeit for dif- ferent reasons, the introduction of unitary authorities in the mid-1990s was welcomed in principle by Labour and the Liberal Democrats, despite their preference for this reform to accompany the arrival of legislative devolution. There is further consensus between the parties over the con- tracting out of council services to private enterprise and “arms-length” agencies, in line with a pattern which Rhodes famously characterised as the “hollowing out” of the state (1997, passim). Neither the Labour- Liberal Democrat Scottish Executive (1999–2007) nor the SNP (2007–) Scottish government have reversed these reforms. There are also symmetries between current policies of “community empowerment” and Michael Forsyth’s (Lang’s successor as Secretary of State for Scotland) 1995 demand that all unitary authorities “must pub- lish draft decentralisation schemes for their areas, for local consultation” (House of Commons, 1995, pp. 20–4). Such schemes were intended to further three key objectives: bringing services and decision-making closer to the people (a familiar Thatcheresque phrase, as seen above) where this would result in improved services, enabling the public to influence and shape the design of council services, and to provide generally more effective and responsive local government. There was also an emphasis on the need for nebulously-defined “partnership” with a variety of gov- ernmental and non governmental actors, “not least the private sector” in making and delivering policy (ibid., p. 20). On a related note, Forsyth enjoined the new unitary authorities to embrace the principle of subsidi- arity, in the form of delegating much decision-making and operational oversight from the council chamber to various local bodies, including community councils, residents’ associations, tenants’ associations and school boards (ibid.). He acknowledged that such bodies attracted “little interest and support” but averred this was simply because “they are not given enough to do”. Twenty years on, the Scottish Parliament has passed the Community Empowerment (Scotland) Act 2015, with almost unanimous and cross- party support: 101 votes to nil with 15 abstentions (Anonymous, 2015). Conservative Members of the Scottish Parliament abstained on the
42 | civic borders and imagined communities grounds that the bill gives too much power to Scottish ministers in the event of appeals over refusal by councils to grant community groups’ requests; they argued for clear regulations about these matters, avoiding the need for ministerial discretion (ibid.). The Act gives community groups a greater say in the use of vacant land and buildings, and in the running of local services. Significantly, and inadvertently echoing the discourse of Victorian and Edwardian boundary disputes discussed above, the Act could be invoked by “communities of interest” sharing an interest, back- ground or activity, as distinct from communities of place formed of local inhabitants (ibid.). Notwithstanding the near unanimity involved in the Act’s approval by the Scottish Parliament, it has been the focus of criticism by a variety of commentators, including the present author, for being insufficiently radical in terms of the degree and range of powers devolved to local communities (see for example Pugh & Connolly, 2014, and COSLA, 2014b). It can also be interpreted as inadvertently privileging elite par- ticipation. Middle class communities are equipped with expert knowledge and understanding of policy and legislation, and so are likely to bene- fit disproportionately from community empowerment, thereby further entrenching social inequality. COSLA, commenting on the draft bill, had two key concerns: first that the bill should take the opportunity to enshrine local self-government in law, in line with the 1985 European Charter; second, that given the bill imposes new duties on local author ities, these should be financed and resourced by central government, and therefore become cost neutral to local government (COSLA, 2015b). Whilst COSLA’s recommendations in this context could be uncharitably viewed as self-serving to the point of facetiousness, they do serve to high- light the longstanding vulnerability inherent in Scottish (and indeed UK- wide) local government’s lack of entrenched constitutional status, as well as its reliance on the central state for funding. 3 In the concluding sec- tion of this article, the analysis opens out to reflect on the remarkable continuity between Scottish local government’s present predicament and earlier forms of (sort of) community empowerment. What lessons can be learned, and how rigid is the border between central and local gov- ernment power? Is local government a mechanism for, or an obstacle to, genuine community empowerment?
3. It should be noted that COSLA is itself in the grip of a disaffiliation crisis which has led to the formation of rival representative bodies for certain councils, analysis of which lies outside the scope of this article. See for instance Anonymous (5 March 2014).
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Conclusion
Despite its recent coinage in the context of Scottish Parliament legisla- tion, there is a sense in which a perennial debate over what “community empowerment” can and should mean in reality has characterised local government arrangements in Scotland since 1832. This has been reflected in successive laws and redrawing of the local government map, as well as in the migration of relative autonomy from the local to the central state (i.e. Lords Advocate until 1885, Scottish Office until 1999, and thereafter the Scottish Executive / Government). Given the increasing demands on the state in general, in an age of universal welfare provision underpinning basic human rights, the reluctance of the centre to risk much by way of local discretion is probably understandable, if far from ideal. The en- abling framework, established and refined in successive general police acts between 1833 and 1890, encouraged local self-government on a micro-level that was ultimately unsustainable. Twentieth-century reforms gradually eroded the most meaningfully local aspects of local government. But perhaps the 2015 Community Empowerment Act really does offer local communities the opportunity to redress the balance in their favour. In this context, there is some symmetry between the enabling “spirit” of the nineteenth-century police legislation and the philosophy under- pinning the 2015 legislation. Both had the potential for local citizens to take control of, or even create for themselves, local institutions and amen- ities for the benefit of their communities, with countervailing risks of entrenching middle-class privilege at the inadvertent expense of the less affluent, in an environment where the central state’s role is increasingly hands-off. Important differences remain. The general police framework, for all its flaws, strengthened and built up the local state, whilst community empowerment, with the best of intentions, has the potential to speedily eviscerate its discretionary functions. In sponsoring the 2015 Act, the Scottish Government has been emphatic in ruling out further top-down reform of Scottish local government structures as a means of reconciling local citizens with their local states; in this sense community empower- ment may be the only game in town. While there could be merits in more radical reform of the local state itself, including the entrenchment of its status in constitutional law, it is also fair to say that none of the previous reorganisations has brought about a perfect system. Perhaps this is beside the point. Echoing Bauman on the inevitable imperfection of real life communities, no system of local government is perfect, and any organi- sational structures should be viewed merely as “interim solutions” bene- fitting from ongoing scrutiny and iterative improvement (2001, pp. 5–6). If the history of local government in the Scottish context over the past
44 | civic borders and imagined communities two centuries reveals anything, it is the need for constant vigilance of, and action to maintain and reasonably adjust, the boundary between local and central decision-making. If the Scottish Parliament in its present devolved form is in many ways the product of Scottish local government’s participation in the Constitu- tional Convention, perhaps the time has come to reciprocally develop a more effective and harmonious relationship between parliament, council chambers and communities. Assuming Winnie Ewing—channelling some of Anderson’s “simultaneity” discussed above—was correct that 1999 saw the “re-convening” of the Scottish Parliament rather than the cre- ation of a new one, it is odd that local government was not represented institutionally within it, given the centrality of the ancient burghs to the original body (see MacDonald, 2013, p. 11). Whilst Mill’s preference for elitist expertise over local democracy is not easily reconciled with the present-day context, there still remains a strong argument for entrenching the constitutional status of local government: as a bulwark against both the vicissitudes faced by local inhabitants in a globalising world, and a centralising state which, irrespective of party control, tends to be happier devolving responsibility than power.
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Arnaud Fiasson Université Toulouse – Jean Jaurès
Territorialité politique, nationalisme et traversées constitutionnelles en Écosse
À l’occasion de la cérémonie qui a officiellement marqué, le 1er juillet 1999, l’ouverture du parlement écossais, Donal Dewar déclare que la mise en place de la dévolution législative a donné un nouvel élan à la nation écossaise : This is a moment anchored in our history. Today, we reach back through the long haul to win this Parliament, through the struggles of those who brought democracy to Scotland, to that other Parliament dissolved in controversy nearly three centuries ago. […] But today there is a new voice in the land, the voice of a democratic Parliament. A voice to shape Scotland, a voice for the future. (« A Moment Anchored in History », BBC UK News, 1999) La mise en place des institutions autonomes, telles que le parlement et le gouvernement écossais, marque la création d’une arène politique écossaise dans laquelle évoluent des acteurs qui lui sont propres et qui légifèrent, dans la limite des pouvoirs dévolus, sur les affaires écossaises (Keating, 2001, p. 205). La dévolution législative, dont l’objet reste le ren- forcement de l’union politique et économique qui cimente le Royaume- Uni, a donc permis, dans le cas de l’Écosse, de politiser un territoire dont les frontières avaient été entretenues de manière implicite par la société civile écossaise qui conservait ses institutions ecclésiastiques, judiciaires et scolaires depuis l’Union de 1707 (Civardi, 1998, p. 62-63). Fort d’une majorité absolue au sein d’une institution parlementaire qui a pourtant fait de la notion du partage du pouvoir l’un de ses principes fondateurs, le Scottish National Party (SNP) occupe une position politique privilégiée qui lui permet d’avancer son agenda indépendantiste. Cet article, dont les fondements théoriques s’appuient sur le modèle de territorialité développé par Jan Penrose (2002), étudie la place qu’occupe le territoire politique écossais dans la construction de l’idéologie natio- naliste promue par le SNP. Le regard que nous portons sur la relation centre-périphérie au sein du système politique britannique ambitionne de démontrer que le SNP exploite l’espace politique écossais délimité par
| 51 études écossaises 18 le Scotland Act 1998 de manière à construire un argumentaire nationaliste qui minimise l’affirmation de la dimension culturelle de l’identité écossaise au profit de la revendication de l’ensemble des leviers politiques et écono- miques nécessaires au gouvernement d’une Écosse indépendante.
Pratiques du modèle de territorialité
Robert Sack conçoit la territorialité ainsi : « the attempt by an individual or group to affect, influence or control people, phenomena and relationships by delim- iting and asserting control over a geographic area […] called a territory » (1986, p. 19). La géographe Jan Penrose s’appuie sur cette définition et propose le modèle d’une stratégie géographique qui connecte la société à l’espace, faisant alors de la territorialité l’expression géographique de la notion de pouvoir. Elle établit le postulat selon lequel la territorialité correspond au processus d’agencement que l’humain fait de l’espace en le transformant en territoire. Les territoires, quant à eux, possèdent une caractéristique fondamentale : ils sont délimités par des frontières. Ces frontières, qui sont de natures diverses (historique, naturelle, culturelle, politique, écono- mique), restent alors libres d’être exploitées de manières différentes dans la construction de la territorialité (Paasi, 1995, p. 42). Plus particulière- ment, Penrose indique : [W]hen people create territories, they create boundaries that both unite and divide space along with everything that it contains. By combining some people and certain resources and separating them from other people and other resources, the creation of territories gives physical substance and symbolic meaning to notions of “us” and “them” and “ours” and “theirs”. (Penrose, 2002, p. 180) La géographe prolonge son modèle de territorialité par un procédé de construction identitaire qui repose sur deux pouvoirs qu’elle caractérise de latents : un pouvoir matériel, qui accorde la possibilité d’exploiter des ressources existantes et qui permet à l’humain de survivre, et un pouvoir émotionnel qui permet aux frontières du territoire de subsister, notam- ment en raison de l’attachement des individus à des lieux spécifiques, mais également par références à l’histoire, à la mémoire et à des mythes communs. Ce procédé de construction identitaire s’inscrit donc dans la veine de la « communauté politique imaginée » théorisée par Benedict Anderson et évoque le « nationalisme banal » repéré par Michael Billig (Anderson, 1990, p. 15-16 ; Billig, 1995, p. 6-9). Penrose présente deux formes de territorialité. La première, selon la- quelle l’identité est culturellement définie, a pour frontière la distribution culturelle de l’espace et privilégie l’attachement émotionnel d’un groupe
52 | territorialité politique, nationalisme et traversées constitutionnelles
à son territoire. Les ressources matérielles ont une place importante mais secondaire : elles renforcent le pouvoir émotionnel. À l’inverse, lorsque l’identité est territorialement définie, les frontières sont formées par la distribution géographique d’une unité politique. Cette forme de territo- rialité privilégie le contrôle des ressources naturelles en vue de constituer le territoire et les stratégies pour le maintenir. L’émotionnel a une place secondaire dans laquelle le pouvoir matériel puise pour se renforcer. Au sein des études écossaises, le rôle joué par la confluence du pou- voir émotionnel et du pouvoir matériel dans les processus de construction identitaire et territoriale de l’Écosse est présent dans plusieurs travaux universitaires. Selon Cairns Craig, l’imaginaire national est un espace dans lequel a cours un dialogue qui définit les particularités de l’expérience humaine au sein d’un territoire dont les frontières définissent les limites selon lesquelles certaines voix, passées et présentes, sont entendues mais auxquelles on résiste (1999, p. 31). Dans une veine similaire, Richard Finlay rappelle que nombre de mythes écossais ont joué un rôle consé- quent dans le développement politique, social et culturel de la nation, soit en tant qu’opérateur de changement, soit en vue d’exprimer une idéo- logie politique dominante (1997, p. 123). Ainsi, les symboles de l’identité écossaise, qui ne se limitent pas à Bruce, Bannockburn et Burns, sont utilisés et réinterprétés afin de servir l’élaboration de valeurs spécifiques à la nation écossaise (Reicher et coll., 2009, p. 38). Robert Crawford recon- naît également que la mythologie, l’imaginaire et la littérature font partie intégrante d’un processus historique, mais il ajoute que l’imagination d’une Écosse indépendante par le lecteur garantit à ce dernier une « sou- pape de sécurité » (« safety valve ») qui permet d’échapper aux réalités du présent immédiat (2014, p. 1-2, p. 8). Alan Riach semble renforcer cette position lorsqu’il soutient : [The cultural argument] was there long before North Sea oil was discovered, and it will be here long after the oil has run out. It is the only distinction that matters. No-one denies the importance of economics—put- ting bread on the table, jobs and health—but they are all matters of material fact unless occupied and enlivened by imagination. The arts—music, painting, architecture and, pre- eminently, literature—are the fuel and fire that makes imagination possible. Neglect them at your peril. (Moffat & Riach, 2014, p. 25) Par ailleurs, Riach affirme que, sans les œuvres de William Dunbar, Robert Burns, Hugh MacDiarmid ou encore Liz Lochhead (pour ne citer que quelques auteurs), l’Écosse ne serait rien de plus qu’une entité géogra- phique qui resterait alors libre d’être exploitée (Moffat & Riach, 2014, p. 212). Par conséquent, les universitaires précédemment cités rejoignent la première forme de territorialité établie par Penrose : le pouvoir matériel
| 53 études écossaises 18 cède le pas au pouvoir émotionnel au sein d’un processus de construction du territoire écossais qui repose sur une identité nationale définie cultu- rellement. À rebours de cette pratique de la territorialité, le SNP affirme que l’autodétermination ne relève pas d’un attachement émotionnel au terri- toire écossais : il s’agit de contrôler l’ensemble des leviers politiques qui régissent la totalité des ressources présentes en Écosse. À titre d’exemple, nous retenons les propos de Nicola Sturgeon, alors numéro deux du gou- vernement SNP, prononcés lors d’un discours qu’elle présente le 25 jan- vier 2013 devant la Chambre de commerce britanno-irlandaise. Contrary to what many outside observers might imagine, the debate we are having is not about national identity. […] My argument is that with the full range of economic and social powers in the hands of the Scottish Parliament, we will be better able to achieve the fairer and more prosperous society that we aspire to. As an independent country, the Scottish Government will have the range of tools that will better equip us to build on our economic strategy and produce even better results. (Sturgeon, 2013) Selon cette vision, réitérée en particulier lors de la campagne référendaire de 2014, l’argumentaire nationaliste s’inscrit dans la lignée de la seconde pratique de la territorialité établie par Penrose. Le pouvoir matériel pré- side au pouvoir émotionnel au sein d’un processus de construction du territoire écossais qui allie l’identité politique de l’Écosse à la légitimation d’une institution nationale (le Parlement écossais) et qui met potentielle- ment en jeu la stabilité de l’État britannique. Avant de procéder à la validation du caractère opérationnel du mo- dèle théorique de territorialité de Penrose appliqué au cas écossais, il importe de pondérer la dichotomie opérée, dans une démarche analy- tique, entre le pouvoir émotionnel et le pouvoir matériel. À cet effet, le tableau nuancé que présente Robert Thomsen fait apparaître un natio- nalisme polymorphe qui ne se restreint pas à la distinction artificielle entre les deux pratiques de la territorialité énoncées précédemment. Cultural and political nationalism should not be seen as irreconcilable oppositions but as ‘ideal’ positions at either end of the same continuum. These ideal positions rarely exist in the real world. Rather, cultural nationalism often develops into a nationalism of a more political kind. Similarly, political nationalism may recede into a more cultural, apolitical form. If we think of the two types of nationalism not as separate entities but as con- tinuations of each other, the distinction is useful in the analysis of the development of autonomism. (Thomsen, 2013, p. 6) La longueur du présent article ne permettant pas d’analyser en pro- fondeur la convergence des deux formes de territorialité dans le pro- cessus de territorialisation de l’espace politique écossais, nous focalisons
54 | territorialité politique, nationalisme et traversées constitutionnelles notre étude sur la place qu’occupe le territoire politique écossais dans la construction de l’idéologie nationaliste promue par le SNP.
L’institution parlementaire écossaise : spécificités territoriales d’une traversée constitutionnelle
Le Scotland Act 1998 1 définit les frontières du territoire politique écossais et rend compte de l’étendue de la traversée constitutionnelle de la frontière anglo-écossaise qui s’opère dès l’ouverture de l’institution parlementaire écossaise. Cette traversée constitutionnelle s’accompagne donc d’une tra- versée géographique puisqu’elle place Édimbourg, et non Londres, en tant que capitale de l’Écosse où résident les pouvoirs législatifs et exécutifs qui régissent le gouvernement du territoire écossais. Il est alors possible de considérer le Scotland Act 1998 comme l’opérateur de la territorialité puisqu’il permet la redéfinition de la notion de pouvoir au Royaume-Uni. Dans le cas de l’Écosse, les deux niveaux de pouvoir recouvrent d’une part les sujets réservés à Westminster et d’autre part les sujets dévolus au parlement écossais. Afin de procéder à l’identification des pouvoirs concédés au parlement écossais par Westminster, il semble préférable de réfléchir en termes de « compétence législative », comme en témoigne cet extrait de l’alinéa 29 : (1) An Act of the Scottish Parliament is not law so far as any provision of the Act is outside the legislative competence of the Parliament. (2) A provision is outside that competence so far as any of the following paragraphs apply — (a) it would form part of the law of a country or territory other than Scotland, or confer or remove functions exercisable otherwise than in or as regards Scotland, (b) it relates to reserved matters. Cet alinéa, qui réfère à l’impossibilité inhérente au parlement écossais de légiférer sur des lois qui ne touchent pas l’Écosse, met en exergue une dif- férence fondamentale entre les deux institutions parlementaires : le prin- cipe de souveraineté parlementaire retenu par Westminster. Alors que Westminster dispose du droit de voter des lois applicables au Royaume‑ Uni (et donc à l’Écosse), le parlement écossais ne peut légiférer sur des aspects non écossais 2, c’est-à-dire anglais, gallois ou nord-irlandais. Cette
1. L’intégralité du texte législatif est disponible sur
| 55 études écossaises 18 incapacité législative s’étend également aux sujets réservés à Westminster. Sous l’appellation « reserved matters », l’annexe 5 du Scotland Act 1998 dé- finit en intégralité les sujets réservés que l’on peut regrouper selon les catégories suivantes : la Constitution, la défense nationale, les affaires étrangères, la sécurité sociale, la gestion de la macro-économie et l’immi- gration. À l’inverse, les sujets dévolus correspondent à tout sujet qui n’est pas circonscrit par le Scotland Act 1998. On y trouve par exemple l’agri- culture, la santé, l’environnement, les services d’ordre, et le transport. Les sujets réservés à Westminster et les sujets dévolus au parlement écossais constituent donc autant de points de repères qui balisent la notion de traversée constitutionnelle instaurée par le texte fondateur du parlement écossais et remaniée au rythme des amendements portés sous la forme du Scotland Act 2012 et du Scotland Bill 2015-2016 3. La territorialisation de l’espace politique écossais s’effectue dans la continuité des traditions parlementaires britanniques et alimente l’ar- gument d’une Écosse perçue comme une nation « sans État » (Brown et coll., 1998, p. 27). L’alinéa 28 indique que les lois suivent le même parcours général : le projet de loi (Bill) doit d’abord être présenté devant les députés du parlement écossais (Members of the Scottish Parliament ou MSPs) pour être débattu et approuvé par un vote. Ce projet ne peut devenir loi (Act of the Scottish Parliament ou ASP) qu’après validation par le monarque sous la forme de la sanction royale (Royal Assent). On remarque également que l’alinéa 6 témoigne du caractère juridique que prend la mise en application d’une loi. De plus, l’alinéa 7 stipule que le parle- ment britannique reste souverain, c’est-à-dire dire qu’il dispose du droit d’abroger toute loi du parlement écossais et de l’obliger à entériner les siennes. Sous l’autorité de l’alinéa 84, les candidats élus au parlement écossais s’engagent à prêter serment d’allégeance, faute de quoi ils com- mettraient une infraction et ne pourraient être autorisés à exercer leur fonction. Bien que ce serment puisse être prêté dans une langue autre que l’anglais, le fait qu’il constitue une nécessité s’inscrit dans la conti- nuité des traditions parlementaires et monarchiques britanniques, si ce n’est des traditions anglaises. Par ailleurs, le rôle joué par le président de séance au parlement écossais (Presiding Officer) ressemble fortement à celui du Speaker dans la Chambre des communes ainsi qu’à celui du président peuvent exercer leur droit de vote sur des lois applicables uniquement en Angleterre, au pays de Galles, ou en Irlande du Nord. À l’inverse, les députés au parlement britannique ne peuvent pas voter des lois relevant de la compétence législative des institutions dévolues, à moins d’y être égale- ment élus. 3. Au stade de l’écriture du présent article, le Scotland Bill 2015-2016 fait l’objet d’un examen auprès de la commission parlementaire britannique. Aucune date n’est encore prévue pour le passage du projet de loi en troisième lecture.
56 | territorialité politique, nationalisme et traversées constitutionnelles du parlement européen. Le président de séance est également en charge de contrôler le bien fondé du texte de loi et il doit s’assurer que le projet législatif relève des compétences transférées au parlement écossais, avant de soumettre ensuite le projet pour obtention de la sanction royale. Par ailleurs, le rôle joué par l’exécutif écossais (devenu Gouvernement écos- sais en 2007) se rapproche de celui joué par le Cabinet britannique 4. L’utilisation de la formule de Barnett, mise en place en 1979, perdure aujourd’hui encore, même si la dotation forfaitaire que verse la trésorerie britannique aux composantes du Royaume-Uni fait toujours l’objet d’un débat (Barnes, 2013 ; Maddox, 2013). L’affirmation des traits spécifiques à l’institution parlementaire natio- nale écossaise renforce le caractère distinctif du territoire politique écossais qui s’érige au sein du Royaume-Uni. Les analogies entre les parlements témoignent de la nature « hybride » de l’institution écossaise. En effet, ces similitudes, dans le sens de ressemblances partielles et non totales, ne participent pas à la constitution de deux institutions identiques. Le parle- ment dispose d’un système électoral qui lui est propre : tandis que l’élec- tion des membres dans les circonscriptions écossaises s’effectue selon le scrutin majoritaire à un tour traditionnel (first-past-the-post), l’apparition d’une forme de proportionnalité dans le vote régional (additional member system) constitue une spécificité bien particulière aux élections parlemen- taires écossaises (Scotland Act 1998, art. 1, art. 7). Chaque système de vote octroie respectivement 73 et 56 sièges, soit un total de 129 députés. Cela a permis, par ailleurs, l’émergence de petits partis qui ne trouvaient pas leur place à Westminster 5. C’est d’ailleurs cette diversité politique pré- sente en 2003 qui valut au parlement écossais l’appellation rainbow par- liament, chaque parti étant représenté par une couleur. Exception faite de l’élection législative du 5 mai 2011, il est important de noter que cette forme de proportionnalité fut conçue afin qu’aucun parti (en particulier le SNP) ne dispose d’une majorité parlementaire dans l’institution écos- saise, par opposition aux majorités fréquentes à Westminster (Bradbury, 2006, p. 577). Par ailleurs, le nombre de femmes élues au parlement écos- sais a constamment été supérieur à celui de Westminster, même si des efforts restent à entreprendre en vue d’une parité absolue. La dynamique plus consensuelle de la politique écossaise se retrouve élégamment dans la disposition de la Chambre des débats. À la différence du parlement
4. Contrairement au cadre britannique, le Presiding Officer et le First Minister sont élus par le parle- ment écossais. 5. On compte, parmi les forces politiques représentées dès l’élection de 1999, le Parti travailliste, le SNP, le Parti libéral-démocrate, le Parti conservateur, les Verts, le Scottish Socialist Party et un député indépendant.
| 57 études écossaises 18 britannique, le parlement écossais est monocaméral et il est disposé en hé- micycle, à la manière des parlements français et européen, ce qui contraste fortement avec le climat d’opposition qui se reflète dans la disposition de la Chambre des communes. De plus, tandis que le parlement écossais s’inscrit dans la tradition de la démocratie représentative, l’institution présente toutefois certaines innovations qui relèvent d’un modèle partici- patif spécifique à l’Écosse. Le parlement écossais se doit de donner suite à toute pétition jugée recevable et en toute transparence, à l’inverse de Westminster (Camp-Pietrain, 2008, p. 3). Par ailleurs, et au-delà de la forme de proportionnalité amenée par le scrutin mixte lors des élections écossaises, les organisations de la société civile sont plus aisément inté- grées aux affaires parlementaires et l’institution écossaise fonctionne à des horaires qui se veulent compatible avec la vie de famille. À la manière dont les spécificités du parlement écossais renforcent la notion de territo- rialité institutionnelle, le cadre juridique dessiné par le Scotland Act 1998 fait apparaître un modèle parlementaire « ‘étranger’ et [qui] représente de ce fait une menace pour les tenants de la tradition parlementaire bri- tannique » (Duclos, 2009, p. 5, 13). À la lumière de l’étude du cadre institutionnel écossais mis en place dans l’objectif de renforcer l’union politique qui cimente les parties consti- tuantes du Royaume-Uni, nous arguons que le territoire politique écos- sais sert de plateforme à l’agenda indépendantiste et socio-démocratique du SNP qui fait de la territorialité le fondement de son argumentaire nationaliste.
La territorialité en pratique : le SNP à l’exercice du pouvoir politique
Les aires géographiques que constituent les circonscriptions et les ré- gions d’Écosse constituent également un vecteur de la territorialisation de l’espace politique. En effet, le territoire politique écossais, composé de l’ensemble de ces aires géographiques, est régi par le parlement et le gouvernement écossais qui contrôlent, dans la limite des compétences législatives qui leur sont dévolues, l’exploitation des ressources humaines et matérielles en Écosse. Si les suffrages exprimés lors des élections légis- latives écossaises représentent les préférences des Écossais en matière de gouvernement, ils témoignent également d’une affirmation identitaire de l’électorat en termes politiques : When asked in devolved elections to consider who and what they think would be best for Scotland, some people persistently give a different answer than when they are asked, as in UK general elections, who can best govern the UK as a whole. In particular, the answer
58 | territorialité politique, nationalisme et traversées constitutionnelles
they give to the question posed by devolved elections has persistently been more likely to be ‘the SNP’, both as a way of expressing their distinctive Scottish identity and of ensuring that they have a devolved government willing to stand up for Scotland’s particular interests. (Curtis et coll., 2009, p. 184) Comme l’indique la représentation cartographique des résultats aux élec- tions législatives écossaises de 1999 et 2011 (fig. 1 ; fig. 2 ; Ordnance Survey, 2007, p. 1 ; SPICe, 2011, p. 33), les suffrages exprimés en faveur du SNP renforce la dimension territoriale l’espace politique écossais.
Figure 1. – Constituency seats by Party 1999. Figure 2. – Constituency seats by Party 2011.
L’arène politique spécifiquement écossaise que constitue Holyrood, par opposition à la dimension britannique inhérente à Westminster, a permis l’émergence du SNP au rang de force politique significative. En effet, alors que le SNP ne remporte pas plus de six sièges à Westminster depuis 1979 (exception faite de l’élection législative de 2015), il constitue le pre- mier parti d’opposition lors des deux premières législatures écossaises. Il obtient ensuite une majorité relative au sein du parlement écossais en 2007, et une majorité absolue en 2011. Un bref regard sur les deux admi- nistrations SNP montre toutefois que la vive progression du parti natio- naliste sur le territoire électoral national écossais en l’espace d’une dizaine d’années émane du pragmatisme dont fait preuve le SNP à l’égard de l’espace politique créé par le Scotland Act 1998.
| 59 études écossaises 18
D’une part, la victoire du SNP en 2007 provient en partie du vote protestataire à l’encontre des politiques du Parti travailliste, tant au niveau britannique qu’écossais, et ne traduit pas une résurgence des velléités in- dépendantistes de l’électorat (Curtis et coll., 2009). Par ailleurs, si l’admi- nistration SNP est en mesure de défendre les intérêts écossais par le vote du Abolition of Bridge Tolls (Scotland) Act 2008 et du Graduate Endowment Abolition (Scotland) Act 2008, elle ne parvient pas, en raison de sa nature minoritaire, à matérialiser certaines des promesses phares de son pro- gramme électoral (SNP, 2007), telles que la loi sur le prix minimal par unité d’alcool (minimum pricing on alcohol) 6. L’administration SNP reste donc tributaire d’une quête de consensus au sein de l’institution parlementaire. D’autre part, il convient de nuancer l’étendue territoriale de la vic- toire électorale remportée par le SNP en 2011. La majorité des votes par circonscription et par région que le SNP remporte ne représente que 44 % des suffrages exprimés, soit, au pro rata d’un taux de participation de 50,4 %, moins d’un quart de l’électorat inscrit. Par ailleurs, et contrai- rement à l’élection de 2007, la forme de proportionnalité amenée par le scrutin de liste au niveau régional n’est pas l’unique responsable de l’accession du parti au pouvoir : Evidently the First Past the Post element of the electoral system exhibited a bias against the SNP that was not in evidence in 2007. The party has frequently found it more diffi- cult than Labour to win seats under First Past the Post because its vote is geographically more evenly distributed, with the result that the party tends to collect many second places and relatively few firsts. (Curtice & Steven, 2011, p. 16) Parmi les circonstances favorables aux gains électoraux du SNP, on compte, entre autres, la crédibilité acquise par l’administration SNP au cours des quatre années précédentes, le charisme d’Alex Salmond et la stratégie positive du SNP qui l’emporte face à la négativité du travail- liste Iain Gray lors de la campagne électorale, l’exploitation des sites de réseaux sociaux par le parti indépendantiste et la transformation de ce dernier en machine de campagne électorale (Duclos, 2013 ; Leydier, 2013). Plutôt que fonder son idéologie nationaliste sur une définition eth- nique de l’identité écossaise, c’est-à-dire sur des caractéristiques parta- gées et déterminées par la langue (la défense du gaélique et de l’écossais n’a jamais constitué une priorité), la religion ou l’ethnicité, le SNP préfère
6. Le projet de loi présenté par la secrétaire à la Santé Nicola Sturgeon, introduisant un prix minimum de 45 pence par unité d’alcool, est rejeté dès le premier stage par la commission parle- mentaire qui préfère laisser la législation aux mains de Westminster. L’opposition est constituée des travaillistes, des conservateurs et des libéraux-démocrates (Currie, 2010, p. 6).
60 | territorialité politique, nationalisme et traversées constitutionnelles une conception civique et volontariste de la nationalité qui repose sur des valeurs et des institutions communes. À Nicola Sturgeon de déclarer : [T]he fact of nationhood or Scottish identity is not the motive force for independence. Nor do I believe that independence, however desirable, is essential for the preservation of our distinctive Scottish identity. And I don’t agree at all that feeling British—with all of the shared social, family and cultural heritage that makes up such an identity—is in any way inconsistent with a pragmatic, utilitarian support for political independence. (Sturgeon, 2012) À partir des années 1990, et plus particulièrement suite aux élections législatives européennes de 2014 qui se sont traduites par une percée de l’extrême-droite, le SNP a été soucieux de projeter une image inclusive du nationalisme écossais (Lynch, 2002, p. 211-214). Ainsi, tandis que le SNP privilégie la formulation « the people who live and work in Scotland » à celle de « Scottish people » (Duclos, 2014, p. 139-152), le livre blanc Scotland’s Future: Your Guide to an Independent Scotland publié en amont du référendum de 2014 exemplifie la volonté du SNP d’établir son argumentaire sur la base de faits rationnels plutôt qu’émotionnels. Il s’agit de s’écarter d’une identité nationale réduite à ses caractéristiques culturelles afin de recen- trer le débat concernant la question nationale sur le statut politique de l’Écosse et sur les pouvoirs octroyés à la structure parlementaire nationale placée en charge des décisions politiques et économiques régissant le fonc- tionnement du territoire écossais. Par ailleurs, l’intransigeance du SNP à l’égard de la constitution du corps électoral participant à la consulta- tion référendaire de 2014 témoigne d’une pratique du principe de terri- torialité qui fait du critère de résidence sur le territoire écossais le point d’ancrage de l’identité nationale civique que le parti politique promeut. L’identité écossaise proposée par le SNP ne repose donc pas sur une définition exclusivement culturelle : elle relève de l’exploitation des ressources humaines et matérielles au sein de l’entité géopolitique que représente l’Écosse et est animée par le panachage d’un idéal socio- démocratique et d’une volonté de vivre ensemble au sein du territoire écossais qui se démarque des autres parties constituantes du Royaume- Uni (MacAskill, 2004, p. 41-42). Lors de la campagne référendaire, les nationalistes présentent leur argumentaire aussi bien comme une réponse à une demande sociale que comme une critique du pouvoir politique au Royaume-Uni. Tandis que le SNP met l’accent sur la crédibilité qu’il a acquise en matière de parti au gouvernement, il se targue de représenter le parti le plus à même de défendre les intérêts de l’Écosse, par opposi- tion au gouvernement de coalition mis en place en 2010 entre les partis conservateur et libéral-démocrate. Le SNP invoque ainsi l’emprise du déficit démocratique dont l’Écosse a particulièrement souffert lors des
| 61 études écossaises 18 législatures Thatcher et Major de 1979 à 1997 7. Plus particulièrement, il estime que l’indépendance n’ouvrirait pas seulement la voie à une ges- tion plus adaptée aux besoins de l’Écosse, mais offrirait l’occasion de se démarquer de la politique d’austérité et des coupes budgétaires promues par le gouvernement britannique. Le SNP ne manque alors pas de rap- peler qu’à la différence de la Poll Tax votée par le parlement britannique et imposée à l’Écosse en 1989, la Bedroom Tax a été contrecarrée par le parlement écossais qui fut en mesure de limiter les effets de cet impôt. Les indépendantistes disposent également d’un argument de taille en regard de la présence d’armes nucléaires sur le sol écossais. Le gouvernement britannique, qui entend renouveler son arsenal nucléaire, a estimé que le coût d’une telle politique pourrait s’élever à 31 milliards de livres ster- ling. Lors d’un débat télévisé qui se déroule dans le cadre la campagne référendaire, Alex Salmond affirme qu’une Écosse indépendante refu- serait la présence d’armes de destruction massive sur son territoire et qu’elle privilégierait la réduction des inégalités sociales et le maintien de l’hôpital public — actuellement menacé par d’importantes coupes bud- gétaires et par la pression qu’exerce la privatisation des services publics en Angleterre. Le SNP entend donc convaincre l’électorat que l’indé- pendance permettrait de mettre un terme à la division Nord-Sud, qui correspond à la représentation géographique des divergences politiques, économiques et sociales qui séparent le Sud-Est de l’Angleterre (dont Londres) du reste du Royaume-Uni. Parallèlement, le SNP soutient que l’Écosse deviendrait le premier producteur pétrolier de l’Union euro- péenne — elle disposerait de 60 % du total des ressources pétrolières euro- péennes — et qu’elle obtiendrait la deuxième place en termes de réserves gazières, après les Pays-Bas (Scottish Government, 2013a, p. 301). Ainsi, une territorialité d’ordre économique s’ajoute à la territorialité géopoli- tique pratiquée par le SNP. Le nationalisme écossais occupe une place singulière sur la scène politique européenne et internationale. En effet, contrairement aux réfé- rendums concernant l’émancipation de la Crimée et l’avenir constitu- tionnel de la Catalogne qui se sont tenus respectivement le 16 mars et le 9 novembre 2014, le référendum écossais a été salué pour son caractère procédurier et démocratique. Loin de la violence des affrontements et des modalités contestables du scrutin en Crimée, et à la différence du gouvernement autonome catalan qui n’envisageait pas d’obtenir l’appro- bation du gouvernement central espagnol, le SNP choisit de se plier au
7. Cette stratégie se veut renforcer la spécificité du territoire politique écossais puisque, au xxie siècle encore, les dix-huit années de règne du Parti conservateur sont perçues comme un trauma- tisme qui a laissé une marque sur l’identité écossaise (Maddox, 2010, p. 1).
62 | territorialité politique, nationalisme et traversées constitutionnelles cadre législatif et ne considère pas le mandat électoral qu’il obtient à l’issue des élections législatives écossaises de 2011 comme suffisant à dé- clarer l’indépendance de l’Écosse. Dans la mesure où la Constitution britannique fait partie des compétences réservées à Westminster, le SNP applique la stratégie référendaire qu’il avait fermement défendue dès le lancement d’une Conversation nationale (National Conversation) en 2007 et lors de la campagne électorale de 2011 (Scottish Executive, 2007, p. 38 ; SNP, 2011, p. 28). À l’issue de négociations avec le gouvernement bri- tannique, l’accord d’Édimbourg (Edinburgh Agreement) du 15 octobre 2012 confère au parlement écossais le pouvoir d’organiser le référendum, enté- rine la légalité de celui-ci, et engage les gouvernements écossais et bri- tannique à se plier à son résultat. Dès lors, l’inscription d’une Écosse indépendante au sein du concert des États-nations européens et interna- tionaux que le SNP propose ne déroge pas à l’importance que retient la notion de territoire dans la construction de son argumentaire nationaliste. En effet, et puisqu’il n’existe pas de précédent comparable à la situation écossaise dans les traités européens, le SNP profite de ce vide juridique et invoque l’article 48 du Traité sur l’Union européenne (Scottish Govern- ment, 2013a, p. 221). Le gouvernement écossais affirme alors qu’une réponse favorable au référendum se traduirait par la création de deux États successeurs, l’Écosse et le reste du Royaume-Uni, dont l’adhésion à l’Union européenne serait automatique 8 bien que sujette à des rené- gociations tenant compte des réagencements territoriaux. Par ailleurs, si le SNP propose une transition vers l’indépendance qui maintiendrait la libre circulation au sein des îles Britanniques, il n’envisage pas l’entrée de l’Écosse dans l’espace Shengen qui se traduirait par l’abattement des frontières du territoire (Scottish Government, 2013a, p. 223). Au plan international, le rejet de la présence d’armes nucléaires sur le territoire écossais, que le SNP promet d’inscrire dans la Constitution d’une Écosse indépendante (Scottish Government, 2013b, p. 9), accentue la territoria- lisation d’un espace politique écossais qui laisse toutefois planer un doute quant à l’adhésion éventuelle d’une Écosse indépendante à l’Organisa- tion du traité de l’Atlantique nord (Duclos, 2014, p. 250-252).
Tandis que le parlement d’Holyrood s’impose comme l’institution clé via laquelle s’érige aujourd’hui encore la territorialisation de l’espace politique écossais, ses spécificités institutionnelles ont permis l’accession
8. Sous la pression de l’opposition parlementaire écossaise qui affirme que le reste du Royaume- Uni deviendrait le seul État successeur en vertu de l’article 49, le SNP revient sur sa déclaration en octobre 2012 lorsqu’il admet ne pas disposer de confirmation juridique au sujet d’une adhésion automatique de l’Écosse à l’Union européenne (Duclos, 2014, p. 241).
| 63 études écossaises 18 du SNP au rang de parti majoritaire. Le nationalisme civique que prône le SNP participe à la définition d’une identité politique qui privilégie le contrôle des leviers économiques et politiques nécessaires à la gestion d’une Écosse indépendante. Au-delà d’une pratique de la territorialité alignée selon un agenda socio-démocratique qui se distingue des poli- tiques en vigueur dans le reste du Royaume-Uni, le SNP a porté sur le devant de la scène internationale ses revendications indépendantistes pro- européennes qui restent de mise à l’approche du référendum prévu par le gouvernement conservateur en ce qui concerne la sortie du Royaume‑ Uni du giron européen. Paradoxalement, si le référendum de 2014 s’est traduit par l’échec des nationalistes, il marque également le point de départ de traversées constitutionnelles supplémentaires et favorise la territorialisation des dif- férents espaces politiques au sein du Royaume-Uni. Lorsqu’il porte les revendications autonomistes anglaises au cri de « English Vote for English Laws » au lendemain du référendum, David Cameron reconnaît que le Royaume-Uni traverse une crise politique et propose de la résoudre par l’intermédiaire de la commission Kelvin placée en charge d’examiner les modalités d’un accroissement des compétences législatives au sein de chaque partie constituante du Royaume-Uni. Cinq mois après la publi- cation du rapport de la commission, le SNP remporte 56 des 59 sièges alloués à l’Écosse lors de l’élection législative britannique. Au-delà du caractère exceptionnel de ce résultat, la victoire du SNP semble indi- quer que le phénomène de territorialisation ne se limite pas à l’espace politique créé par le Scotland Act 1998. Il s’étend à l’espace politique bri- tannique instauré par l’Acte d’Union de 1707 qui octroie à l’Écosse une représentation parlementaire au sein du parlement britannique.
Bibliographie
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64 | territorialité politique, nationalisme et traversées constitutionnelles
Maddox David, 2010 (15 mai), « Back to the ‘80s », The Scotsman, p. 1. —, 2013 (18 décembre), « Barnett Formula Would Remain after No Vote », The Scotsman. Disponible sur
Sources primaires Consultative Steering Group, 1999, Shaping Scotland’s Parliament: Report of the Consultative Steering Group on the Scottish Parliament, Édimbourg, Sta- tionery Office. Ordnance Survey, 2007, The Scottish Parliament 1999 Election Results, Édimbourg, Scottish Parliament Corporate Body. Disponible sur
| 65 études écossaises 18
—, 2013 (25 janvier), « Scotland and Europe », Dublin, British-Irish Chamber of Commerce. Disponible sur
Sources secondaires Anderson Benedict, 1990, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism, Londres, Verso. Billig Michael, 1995, Banal Nationalism, Londres, Sage. Bradbury Jonathan, 2006, « Territory and Power Revisited: Theorising Territorial Politics in the United Kingdom after Devolution », Political Studies, vol. 54, p. 559-582. Brown Alice, McCrone David & Paterson Lindsay, 1998 [1996], Politics and Society in Scotland, Londres, Palgrave Macmillan, 2e éd. Camp-Pietrain Edwige, 2008, « Les pétitions au Parlement écossais : une nouvelle pratique dans les coulisses du pouvoir », Observatoire de la so- ciété britannique, no 6, p. 177-195. Disponible sur
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of Nationalism in Quebec, Catalonia and Scotland, Basingstoke, Palgrave MacMillan, 2e éd. Leydier Gilles, 2013 (17 juin), « “It was not supposed to happen” : une mise en perspective historique des élections au Parlement écossais de mai 2011 », Collection Individu et Nation, vol. 5. Disponible sur
| 67
Lauren Anne-Killian Brancaz Université Savoie Mont-Blanc
The Homecoming of Tartan: How Scotland and North America Collaborate in Shaping Tartan
In its 2010 Diaspora Engagement Plan, the Scottish Government hailed Scotland as “the first nation in Europe to publish a clear and defined plan for engaging with the Diaspora” (Scottish Government, 2010, p. 2). First applied in a Greek translation of the Old Testament to the forced exile of the Jews following the destruction of the Temple in Israel, the term diaspora has come to designate any group of people who have left their homeland, but with which they have maintained strong cultural links. The Scots are famous for their mobility on all continents. They have travelled not just across continental Europe from France to Russia, and from Italy to Scandinavia, but also across the Americas and Austral- asia (Ember et al., pp. 48–56). Scottish and Irish immigrants and their descendants represent the largest ethnic communities in Canada, for in- stance, after the English and the French (Government of Canada, 2011, p. 1). While the latest census estimates that Scotland has a total pop- ulation of over 5.2 million (National Records of Scotland, 2013, p. 2), the Scottish diaspora is believed to include between forty and sixty mil- lion people—between eight and twelve times as many people as in the homeland (“The Scottish Diaspora”, 2015). In the US, over 5.8 million Americans assert that they have Scottish ancestry. This figure reaches 9.3 million if those who have Scotch-Irish ancestry are included as well (US Census Bureau, 2011, p. 50). Over the last twenty-five years, the constitutive aspects of diaspora have been repeatedly redefined. While William Safran viewed the dias- pora in 1991 as a community forced into exile that was led to undergo a long period of resettlement in the hostland (Safran, 1991, pp. 83–4), Robin Cohen argued in 1997 that migrant groups could leave their home- land voluntarily, and ultimately assimilate and integrate in their countries of adoption (Cohen, 1997, p. 6). More recently still, Rogers Brubaker has adopted an inclusive approach to diaspora which can be summed up
| 69 études écossaises 18 by three main criteria: a) the voluntary or forced dispersion of a people over space; b) “Homeland Orientation”, namely “the orientation to a real or imagined ‘homeland’ as an authoritative source of value, identity and loyalty”; and c) boundary maintenance, which corresponds to the conservation of a distinctive immigrant identity which differs from the culture of the host community (Brubaker, 2005, pp. 5–6). This article offers to discuss the second main criterion identified by Rogers Brubaker—“Homeland Orientation”. Professor Marjory Harper of the University of Aberdeen, one of the leading experts on Scottish emigration, has worked extensively on the mechanisms through which the Scottish diaspora has looked to Scotland for support. She has ana- lysed two main means of contact thanks to which Scottish migrants have been able to stay in touch with their original homeland and preserve their Scottish identities—formal mechanisms such as “church, school and Scottish society”, and informal mechanisms such as “place names, correspondence, family and community networks and chain migration” (Harper, 2003, p. 370). On the one hand, Scottish migrants have remained spiritually at- tuned to Scotland through the establishment or the joining of a Scottish Church, and the provision of Gaelic-speaking clergymen (Harper, 2009, pp. 19–20). Through Church, Scottish migrants have found, irrespective of denomination, a source of moral advice and support to overcome the practical difficulties of the hostland. Ministers have even often served as schoolmasters and educators, as in the case of Scottish clergyman John Witherspoon, who became the president of Princeton University and who spread the concepts of the Scottish Enlightenment in the New World (Harper, 2003, p. 354). Additionally, Scottish migrants have remained attached to their homeland by founding Scottish societies, such as Burns clubs dedicated to the works of Scotland’s Bard, St Andrew’s societies in honour of Scotland’s patron saint, and Caledonian societies. The latter two were initially set up as philanthropic associations assisting needy Scottish migrants—sometimes on the point of starvation—but these societies subsequently sponsored the preservation and development of Scottish culture overseas through Burns suppers, balls, pipe band com- petitions, and Scottish sports such as curling, shinty, golf, and Highland Games (Harper, 2003, pp. 359–60). On the other hand, Scottish migrants have expressed their fondness for their homeland by giving typically Scottish place-names to towns, cities, regions, rivers, lakes, and islands across the world. Away from their nation, the Scots have recreated well-known environments through recog- nisable terms. The most vivid illustration of Scottish transplantation is perhaps Dunedin, the second largest city in New Zealand, named after
70 | the homecoming of tartan
Dùn Èideann, the Gaelic for Edinburgh. Its nineteenth- and early-twentieth- century architecture is strikingly reminiscent of that found in the Scot- tish capital, hence its nickname Edinburgh of the South. Furthermore, the location was settled by Scots because its topography reminded them of the seafront and rugged hills of home (“Dunedin’s architectural her- itage”, 2015; Harper, 2003, p. 326). Contact with Scotland has also been maintained through the formation of kith and kin communities, among which memories of the homeland could be shared and intermarriages encouraged. Collective solidarity among fellow Scots has helped them make a better start in their countries of adoption and overcome home- sickness. Similarly, as the vehicle of impressions, experiences, successes, and failures, correspondence between migrants and the relatives they left behind has served as the record of the relationships fostered between the homeland and its diaspora (Harper, 2003, pp. 328–9). Scottish culture has not been contained within the borders of Scotland. It has lived on in the minds of migrants who have remained attached to it, and who have regarded Scotland as “an authoritative source of value, identity and loyalty” (Brubaker, 2005, p. 5). Does it follow then that Scot- land has been looking to the Scottish diaspora for guidance and support in the building of modern Scottishness? Professor Harper has identified formal and informal bridges thanks to which migrants have been able to stay in touch with their country of origin. At the same time, has Scotland come up with mechanisms ensuring that homeland and diaspora Scots have a shared understanding of what it means to be Scottish? To go back to Rogers Brubaker’s analysis of diaspora, could Diaspora Orientation be added to his “Homeland Orientation” criterion in the case of the Scottish diaspora? Is there a dialogue, not just a unidirectional move- ment, between Scottish migrants and Scotland? Considering the broad scope of this topic, the present article will focus on one aspect of Scottish culture which has become internationally pop- ular—tartan. The latter will be interpreted in its widest sense. Tartan will range from its strict meaning, the colourful criss-cross woven pattern in Highland dress, to its broader acceptation in the shape of Tartan Day/ Week, a North-American event set up to celebrate Scottish culture and the relationships between Scotland, Canada, and the US. This study will demonstrate that Scotland has been mobilising its North-American dias- pora in the last decade. The resilience of tartan at home and abroad—its survival, re-appraisal, and development—has partly been made possible thanks to the support of North America.
| 71 études écossaises 18
Tartan — a badge of Scottishness in Scotland and North America alike?
In a recent study researching the role that kilts and tartans play in shaping and asserting Scottish-American identities, Ian Maitland Hume has dis- tinguished between traditional and new Scottish Americans. The former have remained strongly attached to their homeland, or the homeland of their ancestors, by having “impeccable ancestry in that they can trace their forebears to the precise glen of origin and know exactly where their families were first established in America” (Hume, 2012, p. 84). In con- trast, the latter have developed personal interpretations of what Scottish culture means to them, which depend more on affinity than ancestry (ibid., p. 85). The new Scottish Americans choose the identity they want to adopt because they find it attractive, not because they have inherited it. Hume concludes that tartan in the US is now a “potent symbol” of identity (ibid., p. 90): Tartan provides instant linkage to a past and a probably-forgotten, possibly- imagined heritage for some, to a clear expression of Highland identity for others, to Scottish identity for many, both in Scotland and overseas, or even simply to a means to identify visibly with a collective of people with whom they share common feelings. (Ibid., p. 90) Tartan has increasingly been tailored to the needs of diaspora Scots who have used it as a familiar beacon guiding their new lives on a different continent. Tartan has arguably become the most straightforward and outward sign of Scottishness, and/or of affinity with Scottishness in the eyes of the world. Even though tartan is associated with Scottish culture in the minds of the North-American diaspora, it has for decades been contested in Scotland as a symbol of Scottish national identity. The North-American obsession for clans and tartans, what the diaspora “conceives as Scot- tish”, can therefore be “excruciating for Scots” (Ray, 2010, pp. 6–7). It is believed to “sen[d] Scots into hilarity or sanctimonious diatribes” because “part of their disgust is that the diaspora still adores the High- landist vision of Scotland which many Scots disdain” (ibid., p. 10). The Highlandist vision in question refers to an artificial culture which in the nineteenth century fused Highland and Lowland traditions to- gether, although the two groups initially had distinct characteristics. Whereas Highlanders in Scotland had formerly been viewed as fearsome uncivilised cattle-raiders representing a small proportion of the Scots, they came to stand for Scotland as a whole (Macaulay, 1866, p. 51). This change was to some extent popularised by Sir Walter Scott’s historical
72 | the homecoming of tartan novels, and by the pageant, known as the King’s Jaunt, which the writer organised for the visit of King George IV in Edinburgh in August 1822. Scott partly revived and reimagined the Highland Dress, believed to be the traditional garment worn by Highland men in Scotland, by ordering the creation of “His Majesty’s Celtic toilette” (Lockhart, 1850, p. 520), a full Highland Dress in the Royal Stuart tartan worn by George’s dynastic rivals, and by having Highlanders and Lowlanders alike wear tartan. Scott contributed to merging Highland and Lowland cultures through the Highland Dress, which became a predominant symbol of Scottish- ness for both the military and civilians. In the last centuries, tartan has been looked upon disapprovingly be- cause it has been mass-produced in the fields of fashion, tourism, sports, and entertainment. Colin McArthur has especially criticised the distor- tions of Scotland engendered by the success of Harry Lauder in the first decades of the twentieth century, a singer and music hall comedian dressed in full Highland regalia, and by American movies Brigadoon (1954) and Braveheart (1995), which “have provoked sharp debate about how Scot- land and the Scots (and in Braveheart’s case, Scottish history) should be represented on screen. Some Scots have been outraged by the way they, their country and their national history have been portrayed” (McArthur, 2003, p. 1). Lauder’s excessive appropriation of tartan and these two cinema productions have offered what are considered to be erroneous, regressive, and ludicrous visions of Scotland as a secluded rural country of lochs, mists, heather-covered glens, bagpipes, and tartans. They have triggered strong negative reactions from the Scots. Tartan has given rise to the derogatory term tartanry encompassing all stereotypes about Scot- land, not just the excessive use of tartan. This word is not to be confused with tartanism, which designates the neutral use of tartan as a means to assert one’s Scottish identity. The idea that tartan is an artificial construct has been reinforced by a work published posthumously in 2008, but written in the mid-1970s, in which Hugh Trevor-Roper maintained that kilts and tartans were modern fabrications. According to the author, the wearing of the Highland Dress was only first recorded in the seventeenth century, not earlier. Trevor- Roper argued that the kilt itself, a shorter dress known as the philibeg, was designed “twenty years after the Union” by Thomas Rawlinson, an English industrialist who specialised in furnaces and forges, to facilitate the work of the Highlanders he had hired near Inverness (Trevor-Roper, 1983, pp. 19–21). Furthermore, Trevor-Roper challenged the associa- tion of tartan patterns—or setts—with clans. He underlined the fact that only a differentiation of social status or region was initially made. Clans could only distinguish themselves from each other by wearing different
| 73 études écossaises 18 cockades in their bonnets (ibid., p. 23). When the 1746 Dress Act made the Highland Dress illegal, the latter was turned into the uniform of the Highland regiments in the British army, and tartan patterns arguably emerged for the sole purpose of telling Highland battalions apart (ibid., p. 25). It appears that setts were not initially created to distinguish clans, and that therefore, they are not the remnants of an ancient Highland tradition. Of all criticism of tartanry, Tom Nairn’s conclusions are perhaps the most biting. In The Break-Up of Britain published in the mid-1970s, he describes the “vast tartan monster” or “this vulgar tartanry” as lying at the heart of the Kailyard, a late-nineteenth-century movement in Scot- tish literature regarded as overly sentimental, parochial, and nostalgic. Both tartanry and the Kailyard came into being when Scotland was undergoing an intellectual emigration emptying it of its cultural talent and replacing it with “a rootless vacuum”, which explains why they have been upsetting the Scottish psyche to the point of “neurosis” (Nairn, 2003, pp. 144–57). Tartanry and the Kailyard have given birth to a form of sub-nationalism which has evolved on its own, disconnected from the high culture of the intelligentsia, to the extent of “forming a huge virtu- ally self-contained universe of Kitsch” (ibid., p. 150). Nairn believes that tartanry has derived its enduring power from developing separately from “higher culture”: “Tartanry will not wither away, if only because it pos- sesses the force of its own vulgarity—immunity from doubt and higher culture” (ibid., p. 153). Consequently, Scottish academics have objected to tartan because they have considered it as low culture, i.e. the culture of the masses which does not stimulate the intellect. As David Goldie argues, tartan has been vul- garised by British imperialism (Goldie, 2012, p. 237), for even Lowland regiments came to wear tartan by the middle of the nineteenth cen- tury, by the growth of mass media and the popularity of the music hall after World War One (ibid., p. 233), and by the rise of American pop- ular culture, especially that of the cinema (ibid., pp. 234, 237). Since the 1970s, tartan has also been associated with urbanism and the working class through the Tartan Army, the name given to the fans of Scotland’s national football team who wear the kilt, which seems to confirm that tartan belongs to low culture. However, looking at tartan through the lens of the intelligentsia fails to account for its enduring appeal and resilience. Tartan has been re-asserted in the contexts of international football and rugby matches over the last three decades. Likewise, the wearing of kilts and tartans at weddings, funerals, and cèilidhs in Scotland has increas- ingly been interpreted as a form of cultural reappropriation.
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Analysing the ways in which Scottish migrants in North America have adopted and adapted tartan can shed light on the long-lasting pop- ularity of this badge of Scottishness. Has Scotland been looking to its North-American diaspora for inspiration?
Scotland’s academic re-assessment of tartan
In compiling the collection of articles entitled From Tartan to Tartanry, Ian Brown has insisted on the present academic move away from the deroga- tory connotations of tartanry towards the neutral meanings of tartanism, and on the appearance of new research proving the antiquity of tartan. Hugh Cheape, for instance, has demonstrated in his study on Gaelic songs, poems, and propaganda works that tartan was firmly rooted in Gaelic culture before the Union, and that it was well in use between 1600s and the 1740s. Similarly, clan tartans appear to have been associated with families first, before being attached to regiments. Tartan was acknow ledged as a badge of Scottish patriotism. Its power must have been recog nised by then, otherwise British lawmakers would not have legislated against Highland Dress (Cheape, 2012, pp. 29–31). Thus, the history of tartan does not begin with the English invention of the kilt. Tartan was established in Gaelic society before the 1720s. To back up this idea, Murray Pittock has identified key episodes of history, dating back to medieval times, which attest to the antiquity of tartan and its use before the time when Rawlinson supposedly created the kilt. These historic periods include James V’s order for a “hunting suit of Highland tartan” in 1538, the involvement of Scottish Gaelic communi- ties in the pan-British civil wars of 1638–51, the blossoming of tartan in the 1680s at the court of James, Duke of York and Albany, its adoption by the Stuart party, and its wearing for the first Jacobite Rising in 1689 (Pittock, 2012, pp. 34–6). According to Pittock, too much emphasis has been laid on Scott’s 1822 pageant and on Trevor-Roper’s argument that the kilt was invented by an Englishman: Not only is it almost absurd to credit that a famous creative writer could engineer a piece of brief theatricality in one town in an age before television and thereby create a national culture; it is equally ridiculous to suppose that an English Quaker industrialist could determine the sartorial priorities of one. (Ibid., p. 34) Pittock has shown that a tartan pageant had taken place six years before the King’s Jaunt, when the Black Watch battalion had come back to Edin- burgh from the Waterloo campaign. Likewise, Trevor-Roper’s theory of
| 75 études écossaises 18 invention had been introduced much earlier, in 1785 in the Edinburgh Magazine (ibid., p. 34). These examples suggest that the facts about tartan need to be disentangled. Moreover, Pittock has defined clan tartans as “an uneasy fusion of genuine historical associations, family snobbery, marketing, and the Vic- torian idea of clan system, itself a means of allowing a Scottish aristocracy to differentiate itself within the British Empire without challenging it” (ibid., p. 43). Although clan patterns are to some extent modern products, Pittock has stressed their historical foundations. Pittock’s analysis has been substantiated by Ian Brown’s, according to which setts were already sys- tematically associated with clans by the time of the royal visit in 1822. Brown’s research has underlined historical evidence matching up clan families and specific setts dating from the mid-eighteenth century. Accord- ing to Brown, clan “identifications” were fostering “pride, or at least ‘senti- ment’” by then (Brown, 2012a, pp. 96–8). Contributors to From Tartan to Tartanry have urged academics to re- view the history of tartan, and to understand its participatory role in shaping Scottish identity. The generations of the 1970s and 1980s have been accused of deliberately overlooking key episodes of the past to give their theories of invention more weight: “The modern denunciation and disavowal of tartan mischievously draws a veil across, and therefore effectively denies, an up-to-date view of certain vital strands in Scottish history and material culture […]” (Cheape, 2012, p. 29). Researchers of Scottish culture have thus been requested to remain objective when dealing with the history of tartan: A failure to seek to understand constructively the various—and fluid—natures of tartan and tartanry is a roadblock to fully exploring many aspects of con- temporary Scottish culture. For the sake of progressive discussion, therefore, it is essential that sensible, measured analysis and discussion both of tartan as a historical and cultural phenomenon and of the varied nature of tartanry, positive as well as potentially negative, be undertaken without adopting re- ductive, restrictive and, therefore, false definitions. (Brown, 2012b, p. 10) Re-assessing tartan consists in moving away from the pejorative connota tions of tartanry to focus on the neutral meanings of tartanism, and in understanding the major part tartan has played in the shaping of identi- ties for homeland and diaspora Scots. Scottish culture does not spring from Scotland only. Diaspora Scots too have become “an authoritative source of value, identity and loyalty” (Brubaker, 2003, p. 5). The recent re-appraisal of tartan suggests that the concept of “Homeland Orientation” (ibid., p. 5) needs subsequently to be reviewed:
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Scottish culture in any case is not just for Scotland. […] [W]hile Scottish culture is mother culture for the diaspora, the diaspora preserves its own versions of that Scottish culture that it holds in high regard, however they are perceived at home. […] Scottish culture is a large, dynamic and inter- national mansion with many houses filled by many varieties of ‘authenticity’ and ‘truth’ […]. (Brown, 2005, pp. 139–40) The homeland is not the sole builder of Scottishness, but to what extent is it aware of diasporic forms of Scottish culture? How has Scotland been collaborating with North America to make tartan evolve?
Tartan Day — a partnership between Scotland and North America?
Tartan Day was set up in North America in the 1980s to honour the con- tributions Scottish Americans have made to the formation of the US and Canada. It is held on 6 April to mark the anniversary of the Declaration of Arbroath, when Scottish diplomats wrote to Pope John XXII in 1320 to assert Scotland’s longstanding independence. Since its creation, Tartan Day has evolved into Tartan Week, a whole week devoted to the celebration of certain aspects of Scottish culture. The largest Tartan Week celebrations take place annually in New York. Their highlight is the Tartan Day Parade on Sixth Avenue. It opens with the New York mounted police holding the Scottish and American flags, followed by Scottish-American associations, clan societies, Highland and Scottish country dancing clubs, Highland Games committees, pipe bands, alumni clubs of Scotland’s largest universities, and a delegation of VisitScotland, Scotland’s national tourism organisation. Tartan Week in New York also involves receptions, Scottish poetry, prose, and song events, plays, concerts, and pipe band displays, exhibitions and political discussions on modern Scotland, cèilidhs, and an annual 10K run spon- sored by the Scottish Government (“Tartan Week News”, 2015). The academic re-evaluation of tartan has coincided with the Scot- tish Government’s willingness to capitalise on Scotland’s relationship with its diaspora. Government officials have been striving to enhance the homeland’s attractiveness on the international stage so that more people come to visit, work, and live there (Scottish Government, 2010, p. 3). Although Scotland did not create Tartan Day/Week itself, it has expressed its acceptance of the festival in four main forms: Scotland has given North America gifts for the occasion; it has advertised and spon- sored this North-American event; it has sent officials to attend the cele- brations; and it has set up its own form of Tartan Day/Week at home.
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These trends have been adopted by Scottish officials, including the Scot- tish Government and Scotland’s First Minister, for over a decade now. Scotland expressed its approval of Tartan Day/Week by lending the US the sword of William Wallace for the 2005 Tartan Week celebra- tions in New York. This national icon was supposed to be “held aloft and brandished” during the New York parade, but it was ultimately deemed too fragile, and exhibited instead at Grand Central Station. This antique weapon had never left the homeland before, which is evidence of the strong bonds that Scotland has forged with its North-American diaspora (“Wallace Sword on Way to Big Apple”, 2005). The Scottish Government has seized the opportunities provided by Tartan Week to showcase Scotland, and to encourage diaspora Scots as well as US tourists more generally to visit Scotland. The Official Gateway to Scotland, a website sponsored by the Scottish Government, annually publicises the events held during Tartan Week in twenty-three different States of the US. The comprehensive programme advertised by the Scot- tish Government is a strong incentive for all homeland Scots to visit North America, and to partake in its celebrations. It also serves to pro- mote Scotland-based talents, such as the Universities of Edinburgh and Aberdeen, actors of the National Theatre of Scotland, the National Trust for Scotland, and the National Galleries of Scotland. Moreover, the Scottish Government has been sponsoring the annual 10K Scotland Run in Manhattan since 2004, a pre-qualifying race for the New York marathon which also offers the chance to win a three-night stay for two in Edinburgh, another occasion for Scotland to make itself better known worldwide (“Scotland Week Event Listings”, 2015). Scottish officials have attended Tartan Week in New York for almost a decade now. The Presiding Officer of the Scottish Parliament has repeat- edly been appointed Grand Marshal of the New York Parade. Such was the case of Rt. Hon. George Reid in 2007 and of Rt. Hon. Alex Fergusson in 2010 (“The Origins of New York’s Tartan Day”, 2015). It was the turn of Rt. Hon. Tricia Marwick for the 2015 parade (“Tartan Week News”, 2015). The Lord Provost of Glasgow has also held that role. Bob Winter served in 2011 (“The Origins of New York’s Tartan Day”, 2015). Additionally, a variety of regional and national bodies, from both the public and private sectors, have been working for Tartan Week since 2000, including the Scottish Government, the City of Edinburgh Council, and Glasgow City Council. Aberdeen City Council started par- ticipating in 2005 (Schultz, 2005, p. 4). Tartan Week has not only been raising the social, economic, and com- mercial profile of Scottish cities on the international stage, but it has also enabled Scotland to improve its potential overseas in terms of “tourism,
78 | the homecoming of tartan culture, education, business, cities, etc.” (ibid., p. 4). Indeed, the home- land’s presence during Tartan Week is “mainly concerned with max- imising the opportunities to promote the country as a competitive loca- tion, in terms of trade, investment, tourism and leisure” (ibid., p. 5). The decision of Scottish officials to engage with the diaspora’s enthusiasm for tartan, endorsed for over fifteen years now, is meant to reap long-term economic benefits for Scotland. With the help of Tartan Week, Scotland has been fashioning the image it wants to reflect to the world. The homeland has made the most of the popularity of this North-American holiday by partaking in its core activities, and by helping develop its programme. In April 2013, for instance, representatives of the Scottish Parliament and Government seized the opportunity of the New York Parade to advertise, on a banner and parade bus, Homecoming Scotland 2014. These year-long celebra- tions of Scottish culture organised by VisitScotland were designed to prompt diaspora Scots to come home, to Scotland, and marked the seven hundredth anniversary of the Battle of Bannockburn (“NY Tartan Day Parade 2013/-start (h)”, 2013). Former First Minister of Scotland Alex Salmond himself visited Tartan Week in 2013 to advertise the Homecoming. Along with three Members of the Scottish Parliament, Salmond was invited as a guest of honour to the annual Tartan Day Symposium and Reception organised on Capitol Hill (Saint Andrew’s Society of Washington DC, 2013, p. 5). During his stay in the US, Alex Salmond delivered three speeches explicitly referring to the Scottish independence referendum. The lectures were given in front of the Carnegie Council for Ethics in International Affairs, Princeton University, and the Brookings Institution. Salmond underlined the kin- ship ties existing between Scotland and the US, and emphasised the former’s human and economic strengths. Salmond notably insisted on Scotland’s role in shaping modern politics and economics, for instance through Adam Smith’s theories on a free-market economy and human morality. These speeches were aimed at boosting Scotland’s attractive- ness to American investors and at enhancing its intellectual and trade relationships with the US, its “biggest trading partner, biggest foreign investor and biggest tourism market outside of the United Kingdom” (Anderson, 2013, p. 6). Salmond expressed similar ideas during Tartan Week 2014, when he spoke in front of the Glasgow Caledonian University in New York (Sal- mond, 2014, pp. 1–4). He has thus been working on presenting Scotland as a power to be reckoned with, and as an ideal independent-minded partner that could contribute to “the wealth of nations”, namely to a more sustainable and environmentally-friendly world. Salmond’s interventions
| 79 études écossaises 18 show that Scotland is determined to present itself as a strategic actor on the global stage which knows how to build up its image. Scotland has fur- ther asserted its acceptance of Tartan Day/Week by introducing this celebration into the homeland. The first Scottish Tartan Day initiative was launched in 2004 by the Council of Angus. Arbroath Abbey, where the Declaration of Arbroath was signed, was selected as the stage for Tartan Day in Scotland. The re-enactment of the 1320 signature was chosen as the centerpiece of the festival. As in North America, Tartan Day in Angus has evolved into Tartan Week. Its programme has been greatly developed over the last decade. It initially included a golf tournament, a Tartan Day dinner, a clan gath- ering, a sword and bow competition among knights in armour, an exhibi- tion of local food and of local arts and crafts, a traditional Scottish music session, and a cèilidh (“Welcome Home: Tartan Day Comes to Scotland”, 2004). It now encompasses a wider range of cultural events, such as a short story competition, heritage exhibitions on key aspects of the shire, Highland dancing competitions, traditional Scottish singing and story- telling sessions, folk choir and piping concerts, craft workshops, talks on the Highlands, and a farmers market (“Tartan Day Scotland Festival 2013 29 March–7 April”, 2013). Since Tartan Day was initiated in Angus in 2004, other Scottish cities have introduced the concept too. Aberdeen held its first Tartan Day in 2004 (“Aberdeen gets set to don its first tartan”, 2004). It kept organising an annual Tartan Day parade until 2013, but since then, Tartan Day in Aberdeen seems to have been superseded by the Kiltwalk, a 26-mile walk raising money for children’s charities all over Scotland which also takes place in Edinburgh, Glasgow, and New York (“Aberdeen Kiltwalk 2015”, 2015). Tartan Day/Week in Scotland has not generated the same enthu- siasm as in North America, but it reveals that a new practice set up by the diaspora can in turn be adopted by Scotland, and be followed over a decade. In the last ten years, North America has pushed Scotland to reconsider the history of tartan and to keep abreast of new developments arising within diasporic communities. The commitment of Scottish authorities to Tartan Day/Week is con- sistent with the homeland’s Diaspora Engagement Plan. Through the use of tartan, Scotland has sought to improve its reputation on the inter- national stage, and to stimulate its economic growth through business, trade, and investments, so as to become a stronger nation (Scottish Gov- ernment, 2010). In other words, Scottish officials have turned towards North America to help Scotland prosper. The collaborative partnership between Scotland and its North-American diaspora can be defined as
80 | the homecoming of tartan both Homeland and Diaspora Orientation. Meanwhile, Scotland has been re-asserting its power as the cradle of Scottish culture, which sug- gests that it wants to be viewed as the one and only authoritative source of Scottishness.
Scotland’s authority over tartan
Tartan Day/Week originated in North America, but Scotland was the first to establish structures supervising the creation and registration of tartans fifty years ago. Scotland has reinforced its authority in that field in the last twenty years, especially as tartan has been identified as a “lucra- tive product attracting tourists” (Scottish Parliament, 2005, p. 9). The first structure that the homeland implemented in 1963 was called the Scottish Tartans Society (STS). It endeavoured to stimulate research on tartans, and to compile from books, tartan collections, and weavers’ records a world-wide database referencing every existing tartan. This database became known as the Register of All Publicly Known Tartans (RAPKT). According to Keith Lumsden, a former researcher with the STS, the register contained an estimated 2,700 different tartans by Octo- ber 2000 (Lumsden, 2000, p. 69). When the society folded at the begin- ning of the twenty-first century due to financial difficulties, its archives were taken over by the Scottish Tartans World Register (STWR), set up by an STS consultant called Tartan Registration Limited (“World Register”, 2015). The Scottish Tartans Authority (STA) endorsed the role of the STS. The STA was created in Scotland in October 1995 by members of the STS. The STA is still operating today. It collaborates with the leading tartan weavers and retailers of Scotland for the promotion of a deeper knowledge of tartans. The STA launched the International Tartan Index (ITI), also called the Tartan Ferret, to list and account for all historical tar- tans. The ITI is twice as large as the RAPKT with a total of 5,500 entries accessible to the public. The STA hails its ITI as the “world’s largest and most accurate tartan database” (Scottish Tartans Authority, 2015). In contrast, the Edinburgh-based National Archives of Scotland (NAS) released the Scottish Register of Tartans (SRT) in 2009, the year of the first Homecoming celebrating the two hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the birth of Scotland’s Bard, Robert Burns. The SRT is the most com- prehensive tartan database that exists to date because it encompasses the RAKPT, the ITI, and the STWR. It was conceived as the one and only official and authoritative source of all tartan patterns (Scottish Parlia- ment, 2005, pp. 3–7). The leading weavers, designers, and kiltmakers
| 81 études écossaises 18 of Scotland, the STA, the regional councils of Scotland, prominent Scots- men, various Scottish universities, the National Museums of Scotland, the National Trust for Scotland, as well as other key authorities respon- sible for the preservation of Scotland’s heritage consulted each other over the creation of the SRT. Only Scotland-based bodies were invited to that discussion, which is evidence that the homeland is determined to control the tartan industry. The consultation re-defined what tartan is, what should be done with existing tartan registers, what type of infor- mation should be recorded for each new entry in the SRT, what role the Keeper of the Register of Tartans should have, and what objectives the SRT should achieve (ibid., 2005, pp. 9–13). According to the legislation, the SRT is an electronic database, whose purpose is “to be a repository for the preservation of tartans” and “a source of information about tartans” (National Archives, 2008, p. 1). Each tartan of the SRT is identifiable by its name, category, reference number, STA reference, STWR reference, designer, colours, and registration date, or by keywords and comments upon the tartan in question (“Guidance”, 2015). The person responsible for “setting up, keeping and maintaining the Register” is the Keeper of the SRT, who also serves as the Keeper of the Records of Scotland, i.e. the archives of the nation (Scottish Register of Tartans Act 2008, 2008, pp. 1–2). Scotland’s repeated efforts to finalise a legal framework for the regis- tration of tartans indicate that it is determined to keep ahead of new developments in the tartan industry, especially as tartan patterns are now not solely woven for Scottish clans, families, and military regiments. New tartans are woven for surnames, personal names, corporations, geograph- ical locations, commemorative events, and artefacts, for instance. Ulti- mately, it is up to Scotland alone to accept or reject applications for the registration of new tartans—applications which can be submitted by anyone. Thus, the Keeper of the SRT ensures that the homeland is solely in charge of legitimising and protecting tartans. The Lord Lyon complements the duties of the Keeper of the SRT, and adds an extra level of supervision over tartans. The Lord Lyon con- trols Scottish heraldry as the judge of the Edinburgh-based Court of the Lord Lyon. He has purely judicial responsibilities, while the Keeper of the SRT has the administrative role of registering tartans. As the sole King of Arms in Scotland, the Lord Lyon has imposed restrictions on the acceptance of tartans. His say is limited to the recognition of clan chiefs and clan tartans, and of certain tartans commissioned by local or governmental authorities (Scottish Parliament, 2008). Therefore, only a restricted number of tartans have been noted by the Lord Lyon. For all other tartans, applications are forwarded to the Keeper of the SRT.
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Scotland has presented itself as “hold[ing] the key to the proper au- thentification of tartan” (Scottish Parliament, 2005, p. 14). In so doing, the homeland has re-established itself as the centre from which modern Scot- tishness radiates. Through controlling tartan registration, the homeland has re-built itself over the last decades as the model which the diaspora should follow. At the same time, nevertheless, the positive re-assessment of tartan in Scotland in recent years has to some extent been made pos- sible thanks to the innovative forms of tartan that North America has introduced. Diaspora and homeland Scots have regarded Scotland as the source of Scottish identity—“Homeland Orientation”—yet Scotland itself has shown itself to be open to North-American conceptions of Scottishness—Diaspora Orientation.
The homecoming of tartan
Diaspora Scots have historically looked back to Scotland as the home from which they could derive support. They have transported spiritual, educational, and associational anchors from their motherland to help them maintain their Scottish identity in a challenging new environment. Notwithstanding, the relationships between Scotland and its diaspora are not unidirectional—they are not limited to “Homeland Orientation”. This case study on tartan argues that a partnership has been established between Scotland and North America. Scotland remains in charge of tartan, but North America plays a crucial part in making it evolve and become accepted as part of Scottish culture. The relationships that the homeland and its diaspora have woven with each other are similar to the vertical and horizontal stripes of tartan which combine to form a check- ered pattern. Tartan has taken larger proportions in North America than in Scot- land, its place of origin. Rejected by some Scots in the 1970s and 1980s as a distorted construction of Scottishness amplified by cultural emigra- tion, tartan is now increasingly regarded as an integral part of the Scot- tish past. The Scottish Government has in the last decade taken official steps to endorse tartan on an international scale, and to assert Scotland’s authority over it. The homeland has harnessed the popularity of tartan to claim back the latter’s ownership. To sum up, an original form of Scottish culture has been exported overseas, and adapted to the needs of Scottish migrants and their des- cendants. In turn, this diasporic form of Scottish culture has been fed back into Scotland, where it has been re-assessed and further developed so as to fuse together with the cultural form that originated in the home- land. In a sense, tartan has come full circle. This can be described as the
| 83 études écossaises 18 homecoming of tartan, to pick again upon the term chosen by VisitScot- land for the year-long celebrations of Scotland and its culture inviting the diaspora to come home. Modern Scottishness, as a culture which cannot be contained within the geographical borders of Scotland, is definable both by its “Homeland Orientation”—North-American Scots perceive the motherland as the ancestral home from which their identities are sprung—and by its Dias- pora Orientation—Scotland capitalises on the success of North-American tartan innovations to improve its image on the international stage. Could tartan thus be the stepping-stone towards understanding how Scotland and its diasporas across the world cooperate with each other in building other aspects of Scottishness? In Scotland—The Brand, David McCrone and his collaborators sug- gested in the 1990s that Scotland’s culture and politics were clashing with each other: “It is argued that instead of a rounded thought-world in which culture and politics work together in gear, the prevalent images of Scot- land are adrift from their political moorings.” (McCrone et al., 1995, p. 5) A couple of decades later, this assertion has lost its power since the Scottish Government has been repeatedly involved in shaping Scottish culture through tartan. The homecoming of tartan may be regarded as a popular movement which partly draws its inspiration from North America and which is subsequently out of touch with the representational needs of modern Scotland. Nevertheless, it represents a broad trend of diaspora engagement which has been consistently followed by official authorities in Scotland for over a decade.
Bibliography
Publications Anderson Benedict, 1998, The Spectre of Comparisons, London, Verso. Anderson Carleton J., 2013, Scotland As a Good Global Citizen: A Discussion with First Minister Alex Salmond, Alexandria, Anderson Court Reporting. Bond Ross & Rosie Michael, 2002, “National Identities in Post-Devolu- tion Scotland”, Scottish Affairs, no. 40, pp. 34–53. Brown Ian, 2005, “In Exile from Ourselves?”, Études écossaises, no. 10, pp. 123–41. —, 2012a, “Myth, Political Caricature and Monstering the Tartan”, in I. Brown (ed.), From Tartan to Tartanry, Edinburgh, Edinburgh Univer- sity Press, pp. 93–114. —, 2012b, “Tartan, Tartanry and Hybridity”, in I. Brown (ed.), From Tartan to Tartanry, Edinburgh, Edinburgh University Press, pp. 1–12.
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Brubaker Rogers, 2005, “The ‘Diaspora’ Diaspora”, Ethnic and Racial Studies, vol. 28, no. 1, pp. 1–19. Cheape Hugh, 2012, “Gheibhte Breacain Charnaid (‘Scarlet Tartans Would Be Got…’): The Re-invention of Tradition”, in I. Brown (ed.), From Tartan to Tartanry, Edinburgh, Edinburgh University Press, pp. 13–31. Cohen Robin, 1997, Global Diasporas, Seattle, University of Washington Press. Dalberg-Acton John, 1963, Essays in the Liberal Interpretation of History, Chicago, McNeill. Ember Melvin et al., 2005, Encyclopedia of Diasporas, vol. 2, New York, Springer. Goldie David, 2012, “Don’t Take the High Road: Tartanry and Its Critics”, in I. Brown (ed.), From Tartan to Tartanry, Edinburgh, Edin- burgh University Press, pp. 232–45. Government of Canada, 2011, 2011 National Household Survey, Ontario, Statistics Canada. Harper Marjory, 2003, Adventurers and Exiles, London, Profile Books Ltd. —, 2009, “Transplanted Identities: Remembering and Reinventing Scot- land across the Diaspora”, in G. Morton et al. (eds), Ties of Bluid, Kin and Countrie, Guelph, Centre for Scottish Studies, pp. 19–32. Hume Ian M., 2012, “Heritage, Tourism and Material Culture”, in I. Brown (ed.), From Tartan to Tartanry, Edinburgh, Edinburgh Univer- sity Press, pp. 82–92. Lockhart John G., 1850, Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott, Edinburgh, Cadell. Lumsden Keith, 2000, “Scottish Tartans: An Indexing Challenge”, The Indexer, vol. 22, no. 2, pp. 69–71. Macaulay Thomas B., 1866, The Works of Lord Macaulay, vol. 3, London, Longmans. McArthur Colin, 2003, Brigadoon, Braveheart and the Scots, London, Tauris. McCrone David et al., 1995, Scotland—The Brand, Edinburgh, Edin- burgh University Press. Nairn Tom, 2003, The Break-Up of Britain, Edinburgh, Big Thinking. National Archives, 2008, Scottish Register of Tartans Act 2008 (asp 7), Edinburgh, Crown Copyright. National Records of Scotland, 2013, 2011 Census: Key Results on Popu- lation, Ethnicity, Identity, Language, Religion, Health, Housing and Accommo- dation in Scotland, Edinburgh, Crown Copyright. Pittock Murray G. H., 2012, “Plaiding the Invention of Scotland”, in I. Brown (ed.), From Tartan to Tartanry, Edinburgh, Edinburgh Univer- sity Press, pp. 32–47.
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Ray Celeste, 2010 (May), “Ancestral Clanscapes and Transatlantic Tar- taneers”, paper presented to the Symposium on Return Migration, Edinburgh, Scottish Centre for Diaspora Studies. Safran William, 1991, “Diasporas in Modern Societies: Myths of Home- land and Return”, Diaspora, vol. 1, no. 1, pp. 83–99. Saint Andrew’s Society of Washington DC, 2013, The Whin and Whistle, vol. 6, no. 3. Salmond Alex, 2014 (7 April), Glasgow Caledonian University Speech, Edin- burgh, Crown Copyright. Schultz Dawn, 2005 (June), Tartan Week New York 2005 Feedback Report, Aberdeen, Aberdeen City Council. The Scottish Government, 2010, Diaspora Engagement Plan, Edinburgh, Crown Copyright. The Scottish Parliament, 2005, Consultation on the Creation of a Register of Tartan, Edinburgh, Crown Copyright. —, 2008, 2nd Report, 2008 (Session 3) Stage 1 Report on the Scottish Register of Tartans Bill, Edinburgh, Crown Copyright. —, 2014, Scottish Independence Referendum 2014: Results, Edinburgh, Crown Copyright. Trevor-Roper Hugh, 1983, “The Highland Tradition of Scotland”, in E. Hobsbawm & T. Ranger (eds), The Invention of Tradition, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, pp. 15–42. United States Census Bureau, 2011, “Population”, Statistical Abstract of the United States 2011, Washington, US Department of Commerce, pp. 1–62.
Online articles “Aberdeen Gets Set to Don Its First Tartan”, The Scotsman, July 2004. Available on
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“NY Tartan Day Parade 2013/-start (h)”, YouTube, April 2013. Available on
| 87
Aislinn McDougall Queen’s University, Kingston, Ontario
Loss, Diaspora, Displacement, and Parentage in Alistair MacLeod’s No Great Mischief
Set in the wake of the Highland Clearances of the 18th century, the late Alistair MacLeod’s only published novel, No Great Mischief, explores how Scottish immigrants in Eastern Canada were challenged to preserve their clan bonds and Scottish traditions in a new land. Spanning over two centuries, the family history of narrator Alexander MacDonald maps out the generational effects of the Scottish diaspora on the extended clan, clann Chalum Ruaidh, including loss of land, language, music, and clan members. The clann Chalum Ruaidh—though in many ways, dispersed even within Canada itself—is never spiritually divided, as kinship bonds are repetitively enforced, and its members remain, as Lily Cho writes of diasporic communities, “connected by a sense of a homeland” despite their being “marked by loss” (Cho, 2007, pp. 12, 19). No Great Mischief begins with the loss of Moidart, Scotland, and the clann Chalum Ruaidh’s migration from a lost homeland to Canada illuminates the clan members as undoubted diasporic subjects. But even though the Highland Clear- ances were foundational to the Scottish diaspora, is the diasporic experi- ence necessarily a result of a territorial loss of the homeland, or is there something beyond the physical loss of Scotland that permeates the lived experiences of generations to follow? Along with the loss of Scotland, the novel also begins with the loss of Calum Ruadhʼs wives, and ends with the loss of Calum MacDonald (the eldest living relative in the clann Chalum Ruaidh), with no shortage of clan deaths in between. The novel is shaped by such familial loss and the characters, as products of the Scottish dias- pora, are challenged to preserve their Scottish traditions, language, lore and sense of the homeland in Canada amidst these tragedies in a way that transcends a physical departure from the home country. While the novel is about the familial relationships that are sustained by a collec- tive connection to Scotland during a lifetime of cultural preservation in Canada, these connections are strained more specifically by a significant loss of parentage that haunts the text. That is, the diasporic experience in the novel is particularly manifested in the deaths of the parents of
| 89 études écossaises 18 characters such as Alexander, Catherine, Calum, the initial children of Calum Ruadh, and Grandfather. That is, while parentage is a means with which these characters connect to Scotland and Scottish tradition, the preservation process is hindered by the deaths of parents in the clann Chalum Ruaidh. The mother and father figures in the clan function as the closest ties to the Scottish homeland generationally and genealogi- cally, and as they disappear, these ties to homeland, history and memory become obscured, and the children of the clan, displaced. In contemporary scholarship, the word “diaspora” carries a history of particular usage and meaning that makes it difficult, and for some controversial, to utilize in reference to just any dispersed community. It is marked by what Khachig Tölölyan calls “the ‘Jewish paradigm’” (cited in Basu, 2007, p. 10), which defines diaspora as that which is “charac- terized primarily by the coercive nature of the forces resulting in the uprooting and resettlement of a population outside the boundaries of its established homeland” as opposed to the “voluntary and cumulative emi- gration of individuals or small groups” (ibid., p. 10). Tölölyan’s distinc- tion between voluntary and involuntary migration engages with diaspora specifically as a territorial displacement. Arguing for an acknowledge- ment of a “Scottish diaspora”, Paul Basu addresses what many believe to be the traumatic nature of Scottish emigration following the Highland Clearances, differentiating between voluntary and involuntary Scottish diaspora by comparing “the removal of the small tenantry from their traditional land holdings […] throughout the Highlands and Islands so that the land could be opened up for large-scale sheep farming” to the intentional migrations of those in search of “work, land and eco- nomic security” outside of Scotland (2007, pp. 13, 15). The migration of MacLeod’s clann Chalum Ruaidh is both involuntary and territorial as Alexander relates that “anyone who knows the history of Scotland, par- ticularly that of the Highlands and the Western Isles in the period around 1779, is not hard-pressed to understand the reasons for their leaving” (MacLeod, 1999, p. 20). With the provision of the year 1779—only thirty- four years after the Jacobite Rebellion of 1745—Alexander implies a traumatic past for the clann Chalum Ruaidh wherein the clan’s migration from Moidart, Scotland to Cape Breton, Canada is directly linked to the Highland Clearances. Scotland is lost to the clann Chalum Ruaidh territori- ally in that they “sold their cattle and [gave] up the precious end timbers to their house, which in that land and in that time were hard to come by [my emphasis]” (ibid., p. 21), but it is also a territorial gain because Calum Ruadh is headed “for Nova Scotia, ‘the land of trees [my emphasis]”’ and further, “he had been told in a Gaelic letter, there would be land for him if he would come [my emphasis]” (ibid.).
90 | loss, diaspora, displacement, and parentage in no great mischief
While, in the context of the Highland Clearances, the Scottish dias- pora is at once territorial, in keeping with Tölölyan’s definition of dias- pora, Cho proposes a more abstract understanding of diaspora as a “condition of subjectivity” (ibid., p. 14). As she writes, this subjectivity is “marked by the contingencies of long histories of displacements and genealogies of dispossession” (ibid., p. 11) wherein the diasporic condi- tion means “to be marked by loss” (ibid., p. 19), particularly the loss of the homeland in a historical and mnemonic way, rather than a territo- rial way: “Loss is both in the past and in the potentiality of the future. This understanding of loss takes diaspora out of a relation to land and territory and into one which is bound to the problem of history and memory.” (Ibid., p. 16) That is, she distinguishes between migration itself, and being “marked by the memory of migration” (ibid., p. 19). Similarly, in The Empire Writes Back: Theory and Practice in Post-Colonial Literature, Bill Ashcroft, Gareth Griffiths and Hellen Tiffin assert that “Diaspora does not simply refer to geographical dispersal but also to the vexed questions of identity, memory and home which such displacement pro- duces” (2002, pp. 217–8). There is no question that the homeland is lost by the clann Chalum Ruaidh in a way that goes beyond territory, and as Alexander relates family stories, stories within stories, stories of others, and memories, this loss, or rather, the struggle against loss becomes apparent. There is a collective consciousness of the Scottish diaspora in the novel’s characters in that Calum Ruadhʼs first voyage acts as an anchor for the narrative that is constantly returned to. The narrative about Calum Ruadh functions as what Robin Cohen describes as “the myth of a common origin” which “serves to ‘root’ a diasporic conscious- ness”, “give it legitimacy” and even inspire “highly romanticised fantasies of the ‘old country’” (Cohen cited in Basu, 2007, p. 17). The novel’s preoccupation with the original clan members’ journey from Scotland fuels the collective memory of the homeland that is lost and longed for, and at times, even glorified throughout. Both Cohen’s description and MacLeod’s depiction of origin as mythical point to Paul Ricœur’s differ- entiation between “beginning” and “origin” in Memory, History, Forgetting. Here, he calls beginnings “historic”, describing them as existing within a “constellation of dated events”, and he calls origin “mythic”, defining it as that which “designates the upsurge of the act of taking a distance […] which consists in the recourse to the exteriority of the archival trace” (Ricœur, 2004, pp. 139–40). This distinction between historical record and mythical origin renders origin illusory—a notion confirmed by Alexander early on when he, in reference to Calum Ruadh’s voyage to Canada, explains that “there are some facts and perhaps some fantasies” in what the MacDonald’s know about Calum Ruadh (1999, p. 20). The
| 91 études écossaises 18 inaugural Calum Ruadh who touched down in Cape Breton in 1779 is constantly drawn into the present through culturally significant mne- monic devices such as songs, stories, the Gaelic language, and even the deaths and births of various clan members. Alexanderʼs parentsʼ deaths on the ice and his twin sister Catherineʼs transatlantic flights (ibid., p. 192) reach back to Catherine MacPhersonʼs oceanic demise (ibid., p. 57–8). And Calumʼs timely death on Cape Breton soil (ibid., p. 282) is only made meaningful alongside the constant references to Calum Ruadh’s Point where Calum Ruadh of 1779 is buried (ibid., p. 12–13). Through frequent reference to Calum Ruadh, Alexander situates his cultural past in the present in the same way that MacLeod’s short fiction often “[portrays…] an ancestral past that continually affects the present” (Urquhart, 2001, p. 37). The sense of collective memory and the notion that the diasporic loss of homeland is analogous to a loss of cultural memory are both explored when Catherine and Alexander, as adults, try to remember a particular old, Gaelic song together. Catherine says, “There was an old Gaelic song that Grandma used to sing that was composed when the people were leaving Scotland. There was a line in it which said, ʻThe birds will be back but we will not be backʼ, or something like that. Do you remember it?” To which Alexander replies, “Yes […] Fuadach nan Gaidheal, the ʻDis- persion of the Highlanders’” (MacLeod, 1999, p. 227). Choʼs and Basuʼs claims for collective memory in diasporic communities are illuminated by the fact that the siblings sing this song so many centuries after the Clear- ances because Alexander and Catherine were not direct victims of the “Dispersion of the Highlanders”. The fact that a song which laments those affected by the Clearances is passed down through the generations suggests a cultural trauma that is manifested in collective memory. Even though Catherine and Alexander were not cleared in the 18th century, they are plagued by a sense of cultural mourning and loss that seems almost inherited, or indicative of what Jane Urquhart describes as an “unidentifiable sorrow that accompanies” the diasporic subject’s “loss of landscape and kin” (2001, p. 38). The way in which the siblings struggle to remember “the Gaelic words” which “[come] to [them], hesitatingly at first” before “gaining force, welling up from wherever it [is] that song [is] stored” emphasizes their loss. They “[sing] all that [they know] in Gaelic, three verses and the chorus, looking to each other for clues at the beginning of lines when [they seem] uncertain” (MacLeod, 1999, p. 227), which illuminates the loss of homeland as one of history and memory that Cho underlines, because memory fails to summon the tra- ditional music and language that constitutes the Scottish identity that is being reached to. Further, the scene exposes how orality “forms human
92 | loss, diaspora, displacement, and parentage in no great mischief beings into close-knit groups” (Ong, 2002, p. 72) and “fosters person- ality structures that […] are more communal and externalized, and less introspective than those common among literates” (ibid., p. 67). That is, it is through oral traditions such as stories, Gaelic language and songs that MacLeod emphasizes the shared and collective memory, and in some ways, a shared, diasporic identity. The narrative of Calum Ruadh’s journey to Canada as told to Alex- ander by Grandfather demonstrates how the diasporic experience in- cludes a loss of history and memory beyond the loss of territory. When Alexanderʼs Grandfather tells him that “After they landed on the shores of Pictou […] Calum Ruadh broke down and wept and he cried for two whole days and […] [his children] were all around him, including the dog, and no one knew what to do” (MacLeod, 1999, p. 24), Alexander—as a young boy—fails to understand why a grown man would cry. Initially angered by Alexander’s comment, Grandfather describes Calum Ruadh’s loss as one of history and kin: [Calum Ruadh] was […] crying for his history [my emphasis]. He had left his country and lost his wife and spoke a foreign language. He had left as a hus- band and arrived as a widower and a grandfather, and he was responsible for all those people clustered around him. He was […] like the goose who points the V, and he temporarily wavered and lost his courage. (Ibid., p. 25) This nostalgic retelling of the first voyage by Grandfather explicates Choʼs assertion that loss of the homeland constitutes a loss of history rather than territory in a most detailed manner. Calum Ruadh is not crying for Scotland or territory, but rather for “his history”. Like MacLeodʼs short fiction, the novel is “resonant with” “the desire to preserve that which was, and even that which is, against the heartbreaking ravages of time; to preserve not necessarily with factual accuracy, but rather with something that one can only call […] emotional truth [sic]” (Urquhart, 2001, p. 39). Calum Ruadh is depicted as heavily burdened with the responsibility of a similar preservation wherein he is challenged to maintain, support and protect the history, heritage and clan with which he travelled to Canada. The passage explicitly demonstrates how the diasporic subject is marked by loss in that the voyage causes a loss of homeland and a loss of kin. But what is most remarkable about this vital passage is Grandfatherʼs identifi- cation of Calum Ruadh as both a father and a “grandfather”. It indicates the beginning of an additional generation for which he is responsible, and which underlines the importance of historicity for MacLeodʼs characters: “in a single story, MacLeodʼs characters frequently span several genera- tions, thus establishing historicity as a human value” (Francis Berces cited in Hiscock, 2000, p. 51). This valuation of historicity in the characters
| 93 études écossaises 18 illuminates Choʼs understanding of diasporic loss as historical rather than territorial. Further, Calum Ruadh’s sense of responsibility in the passage goes beyond his being a parent and grandparent in that he also, at this moment, recognizes himself as a parent to clann Chalum Ruaidh as a whole as “[his children]” stand “all around him”. The death of parents and the act of reconstructing oneʼs own history after these deaths is a central thread in the novel that MacLeod is quite conscious of (Rogers, 2001, p. 22). And the importance of parent/child relationships to the text is emphasized by the repetitive use of the title clann Chalum Ruaidh to refer to Alexander’s family in the past and present. It would seem that most often people concretize clans and clan bonds as simple family groups with those expected familial connections, but in fact, the Gaelic translation of “clann” is “children” (“clann”, Essential Gaelic Dictionary, 2004, p. 31). MacLeod’s clann Chalum Ruaidh is not simply a family and rather, the emphasis on its being a “clan” is purposive and emphatic of a parent/child relationship as well as a generational inheri tance of shared memory and history. MacLeod explicates this function of the clan during the scene in which Alexander is quizzed by parents from neighbouring towns, as to who his parents are: […] after our [hockey] games we would be invited into the homes of our hosts, where we would inevitably be quizzed by their parents or grand parents. “Whatʼs your name?” “Whatʼs your fatherʼs name?” “Whatʼs your motherʼs fatherʼs name?” And almost without fail, in the case of myself and my cousins, there would come a knowing look across the face of our ques- tioners and they would say, in response to our answer, “Ah, you are the clann Chalum Ruaidh”, as if that somehow explained everything. They would pro- nounce clann in the Gaelic way so that it sounded like “kwown”. “Ah, you are the clann Chalum Ruaidh”, meaning “Ah, you are the children (or the family) of the red Calum”. (1999, p. 28) The parents and grandparents of their hosts play a sort of genealogical tracing game wherein they attempt to pinpoint an origin for Alexander and his cousins. The progression from “your name” to “your fatherʼs name” to “your motherʼs fatherʼs name” moves across three generations, venturing increasingly into earlier history. But more strikingly, it consti- tutes the tracking of a clan name. That is, asking for the fatherʼs surname and then the motherʼs maiden name demonstrates a search for the clanʼs identifier. As a young boy, Alexander makes reference to this parent/child relationship when he remarks of his uncle that “it seemed strange that such a big man could be the father of [his cousin], while, at the same time, being the son or ‘boy’ of [his] Grandpa” (ibid., p. 69). And in a very similar scene, Alexander’s Grandma is depicted as “looking out her
94 | loss, diaspora, displacement, and parentage in no great mischief window towards the ocean which had swallowed up ‘the children’ who were the parents of the young men under discussion [my emphasis]” (ibid., p. 84–5). Both scenes highlight an interest in the status of an individual as both parent and child, which works towards a better understanding of the clan and the generational aspects inherent in diasporic subjectivity. Someone who is both a child and a parent has one foot in each genera- tion—that which precedes and that which proceeds—much in the same way the diasporic subject remains divided by the homeland and the new land. In addition to this divide between parent and child, individual identity also becomes indistinct as it is superseded by the collective clan identity and family namesakes. Historically, Scottish clans adopted aspects of the feudal system, and their formulation included a clan chief, ownership of land and succession by primogeniture, and following the Jacobite Rebellion of 1745, clans were dissolved and made illegal by British legislature (“clan”, Oxford Ref- erence). The fact that clan leadership was successive to the eldest child is pertinent to the novel because it complements the notion that the deaths of parents in the clann Chalum Ruaidh constitute a loss of ties to the home- land in that, with each new successor, the clan gets one step further away from its collective origin, history and memory. In addition to the title clann Chalum Ruaidh, the novel also emphasizes a parent/child dynamic with the phrase, “My hope is constant in thee, Clan Donald” which is uttered a total of seven times in the text (ibid., pp. 88, 92, 95, 118, 191, 202 and 209). The phrase—“which is what Robert the Bruce was supposed to have said to the MacDonalds at the Battle of Bannockburn in 1314” (ibid., p. 88)—really means, My hope is constant in thee, “children” of Donald, much in the same way as the construction of Scottish surnames indicates that one is the progeny of another: MacDonald means, “son of Donald” where “mac” directly means “son” (“mac”, Essential Gaelic Dictionary, 2004, p. 79). The fact that a clan is made up of “children” suggests that the members share a common parentage—Calum Ruadh, or “Donald”, or even Scotland itself. In terms of parentlessness, the deaths of Alexanderʼs parents (and brother Colin) are potentially the most impactful parent deaths in the narrative. The tragedy of their demise works to exemplify how loss of parentage in the novel points to a larger loss of cultural history and connection to the homeland, through the capability and incapability of Calum and Alexander to remember their mother and father. Alexanderʼs parents are described as having “vanished” upon falling through the ice (MacLeod, 1999, p. 51), and only his brother Colinʼs body is ever recovered: “My parents were not found that day, or the next, or in the days or months that followed” (ibid., p. 52). Years later, on a visit to the
| 95 études écossaises 18 island, Grandpa remarks “I guess theyʼre still under [the sea] somewhere” (ibid., p. 214). The fact that his parentsʼ bodies are never found becomes symbolic for the obliteration of yet another tie to the homeland. As men- tioned, diasporic subjects sometimes mythologize and romanticize the lost homeland (Basu, 2007, p. 17), and in the same way as the original Calum Ruadh becomes an illusory and mythologized point of origin for the clann Chalum Ruaidh that is both “fac[t]” and “fantas[y]” (MacLeod, 1999, p. 20), Alexander and Catherine create a similarly illusory origin in their parents. They are described as “yearning for the drowned idealized people [their parents] who had gone into the sea [my emphasis]” (ibid., p. 67). Catherine suggests that “perhaps [Alexander and she] idealize [their] parents too much because [they] scarcely remember them [my emphasis]” (ibid., p. 234). Such a mythologization of the parents is par- alleled to that of the Highlands which Basu suggests are often mytholo- gized by Scottish diasporic subjects (ibid., p. 17). In one of the most effective scenes in the novel, Calum asks Alexander, “Do you remember our parents?” to which Alexander responds, “Iʼm not sure […]. Some things. Iʼm not sure how many of the memories are real and how many Iʼve sort of made up from other peopleʼs stories” (ibid., p. 14). The deaths of Alexanderʼs parents lead him into a reconstructive process, and by use of stories and memories told, and photographs shared by other mem- bers of his family, he strives to access his lost history—although the past he reconstructs constitutes a sort of idealization. On the same subject, and when asked by Shelagh Rogers, “What do you think memories are made of ?” MacLeod himself responded, [Alexander and Catherine] donʼt remember [their parents] as real people. When youʼre sixteen your father and mother are real people but if your parents are taken from you when youʼre three, maybe you idolize them […]. Between Calum and Alexander and his twin sister, there are thirteen years […]. But if you are three and people are always saying to you “oh, you should have known your mother, oh, you should have known your father”, then you make them up in terms of what others have given to you […] Calum […] remembers their father and remembers their mother […]. But for these younger people, they donʼt remember them at all. And this is why they are always looking at the photograph albums because thatʼs sort of all they have… pictures. Both the physical pictures […] or the pictures they recreate about themselves and about their parents are kind of imaginary. (Rogers, 2001, pp. 21-22) In some ways, MacLeod gives us, in Alexander, the very emergence of the diasporic subject in that Alexander turns “back upon those markers of the self—homeland, memory, loss” (Cho, 2007, p. 11) in order to make
96 | loss, diaspora, displacement, and parentage in no great mischief sense of his present. But the fact that Alexanderʼs recollections of his parents are those of someone else confirms the severance of that tie to the homeland. It is productive to consider how Alexanderʼs reconstruction of his parents resembles the reconstruction of the lost homeland through shared history and memory that takes place throughout the novel in the sharing of stories, song, drink, and music. The idealization of the parents is correlative with that of the homeland and the clan’s ancestors, and Alexanderʼs tendency to fantasize Calum Ruadh of 1779—the figure- head of the clanʼs shared history—complements the notion that the myth of origin can include a “highly romanticized fantas[y]” of the homeland (Cohen cited in Basu, p. 17). The very nature of Alexanderʼs parentsʼ deaths paired with that of Catherine MacPherson also reveals how loss of parents in the novel is synonymous with the loss of the homeland. Catherine MacPhersonʼs demise is the ultimate transnational death as she is “sewn in a canvas bag and thrown overboard, never to see the New World on which she had based such hopes” (MacLeod, 1999, p. 23). Her death corresponds exactly with the clann Chalum Ruaidhʼs initial loss of Scotland. Literally, as they are in the process of leaving Scotland and arriving in Canada—in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean—they lose their mother. It is particularly striking that her death marks the birth of Catriona na mara (“Catherine of the Sea”—Calum Ruadhʼs first granddaughter) because it emphasizes the generational complication inherent in parentlessness. As the matron of the family is lost, the first of a brand new generation is born which illuminates the generational and temporal distance between the clanʼs origins and succession. Catherineʼs death is landless, meaning she no longer has access to Scotland physically or historically, and she likewise does not have access to the New World, “[…] never able to arrive at the new land nor get back to the old” (ibid., p. 192). In death, she has all the makings of a diasporic subject who belongs neither in her home- land, nor the new, Canada. Mikhail Bakhtin’s “chronotope of threshold” which is “the chronotope of crisis and break in a life” is useful in thinking through Catherine’s death because she perishes on the threshold between Scotland and Canada—a liminal space wherein, as Bakhtin would say, “crisis events occur” (1981, p. 248). The ocean remains a liminal space of crisis beyond Catherine’s nautical demise in that Alexander’s parents too perish in the ocean between two land masses, although they die in Canadian proximity. Even so, their aquatic death operates as a reminder of their lost history before them, and is used, in the text, to bring the past into the present by linking one loss to another (MacLeod, 1999, p. 57–8). In regards to MacLeod’s short fiction, Claire Omhovère notes a similar repetition of history in “Clearances” and “As Birds Bring Forth
| 97 études écossaises 18 the Sun” wherein “History is presented as a crushing inevitability” and “the character’s [sic] present a puny re-enactment of past oppressions” (2006, p. 58). With this, Omhovère asserts that the “passage of time is […] irrelevant or, at least, secondary to the territorial clashes that go on pitting individuals and communities against one another” in the present (ibid.). Likewise, Colin Nicholson explores how, in MacLeod’s short fic- tion, “Repetition prevaricates temporality, interrogating sameness and difference across the passage of time” (2001, p. 99). A similar inevitable re-enactment of history permeates No Great Mischief, and the “passage of time” certainly becomes irrelevant when the clann Chalum Ruaidh’s feud with the French Canadian miners and Calum’s subsequent murder of Fern Picard (MacLeod, 1999, p. 257-258) reach back to the often refer- enced complicated relationship between Scotland and France in which France’s support of “the auld alliance” could have prevented Scotland’s (ibid., p. 162). The phrase “If only the ships had come from France” as well as different paraphrases of it occur five times throughout the novel in reference to the Jacobite rebellion of 1745 (ibid., pp. 162, 208, 237, 263). Calum’s murder of Fern Picard functions as a repetitive response to a complicated history, and in both the present and the past, an alliance between nations might have resulted in a very different outcome. While the deaths of Alexanderʼs parents cause him to enter into a re- construction of history through inherited memory, they take a different toll on Calum and the other MacDonald brothers. The loss of parentage is also very like the loss of the homeland in that, like losing oneʼs homeland results in displacement, the deaths of Calumʼs parents displace him and the other elder brothers. No Great Mischief has been described as a novel that “deal[s] on some level with the traumatic and challenging effects of global capitalism and conflict” which includes the forced migration of labour populations, and resultant conditions of displacement and dispos- session (Macdonald, 2006, pp. 128–9). The older MacDonald boys’ loss of parentage is representative of a loss of the homeland because, with the absence of their parental ties to the homeland, they are deprived of a domestic space, and the deaths prompt their displacement. They dis- continue school and “[move] back to the old Calum Ruadh house [their] grandparents had lived in before” they “[became] people of the town” (MacLeod, 1999, p. 61). Alexander and Catherine are similarly displaced in that they stay at their grandparentsʼ house for the next sixteen years, rather than return to their original home (ibid., p. 57). While the move- ment of Calum and the older brothers is not directly resultant of the political traumas of 18th-century Scotland, the deaths of his parents go part in part with an uprooting process that leaves him and his brothers at a significant loss. Cho argues that “to be unhomed is a process. To
98 | loss, diaspora, displacement, and parentage in no great mischief be unhomely is a state of diasporic consciousness” (2007, p. 19). In a way, the deaths mark the “unhoming” of the elder brothers in that they do not return to live on the island and they remain unhomed for the remainder of the novel, seeking work in Peru, Africa, and Ontario (Mac- Leod, 1999, pp. 109–10). But their loss of parentage also elucidates the diasporic experience because, like losing a homeland unhomes, losing parents makes them unhomely—a state of diasporic consciousness that permeates Calum’s and his brothers’ experiences in Canada. Yet, perhaps more strikingly than the sense of displacement and loss experienced by Calum and the elder brothers, the deaths of Calumʼs parents immediately transform him from a parentless child into a sort of childless parent. That is, in the traditional clan systems and according to primogeniture, Calum would become a head figure in the clan—in the context of his immediate family—and should become a father figure of sorts to the clan. In a discussion of the opposing occupations of Calum and Alexander, Janice Kulyk Keefer implies that Calum resembles a father figure: […] just as, in “The Boat”, the main source of tension and conflict arises from the opposing choices made by father and son as to their lifeʼs work— fishing and teaching/writing—so too in No Great Mischief. In fact, the conflict is curiously reconfigured. First, the occupations of the two brothers, Calum and Alexander—miner and orthodontist—emerge as diametrically opposed […]. (2001, pp. 73–4) Although Keefer does not explicitly deem Calum a father figure, her sug- gestion that the father/son opposition in “The Boat” is “reconfigured” in No Great Mischief through the disparity between Calumʼs and Alexan- derʼs occupations presents Calum as father figure. Further, Calumʼs iden- tity as father figure emerges when we consider how he is a character of tradition taking on one of the “traditional forms of masculine labour indigenous to Nova Scotia” (ibid., p. 73), while Alexanderʼs occupation contributes to his being a “modern man” (Rogers, 2001, p. 20). That is, if parents, in MacLeodʼs novel, resemble the closest ties to the home- land, then Calum emerges as someone who is closer to tradition than Alexander. After the deaths of their parents, he returns to an old, tradi- tional line of work while Alexander ultimately pursues dentistry which is suggestive of an inauthenticity in the present where patients desire artifi- cial identities (MacLeod, 1999, p. 82). This inauthenticity is emphasized first by Calum’s carrying out “honest and authentic labour” (Keefer, 2001, p. 80), and more specifically by Calum’s tooth extraction by fishing boat and work horse only pages prior (MacLeod, 1999, p. 81). After the MacDonald parents’ death on the ice, Calum—with the exception of
| 99 études écossaises 18 his grandparents—as a man of tradition and practitioner of old ways, replaces his parents as the closest tie to the homeland. In conjunction with the parentlessness of Alexander and his siblings, MacLeod discusses the significance of Grandfather’s loss of parentage. According to MacLeod, “[the] idea of understanding where you came from is a central one within the novel” and particularly important to characters like Grandfather who, “because he never saw his own father […] looks at himself in the mirror and tries to recreate this absentee dead father by looking backwards” (Rogers, 2001, p. 22) and later, by reading Scottish history. Grandfather is described by Catherine as having been “raised in a house without a father, only a mother, and years later he [is] with a daughter who had no mother, only a father. He was always in the midst of loss” (MacLeod, 1999, p. 230). The novel is inundated with parentlessness, but it is the very act of piecing together oneʼs history that illuminates the similarities between parentage and a sense of the home- land. In a theorization of the novel in the context of diasporic discourse, it is important to note that Grandfather does not necessarily seek out where he came from in a physical sense, or even in a cultural sense, but rather in a historical sense, which undoubtedly reaches back to Choʼs claim that loss of homeland is “bound to the problem of history” (2007, p. 16). Catherine diagnoses Grandfatherʼs preoccupation with history as a result of his being “so ill at ease when Grandpa would start those little jokes about” illegitimate children—because Grandfather himself is a fatherless, illegitimate child: Perhaps thatʼs why he became so interested in history […]. He felt that if you read everything and put the pieces all together the real truth would emerge. It would be, somehow, like carpentry. Everything would fit together just so, and you would see in the end something like “a perfect building called the past”. Perhaps he felt that if he couldnʼt understand his immediate past, he would try to understand his distant past. (MacLeod, 1999, p. 234) This passage demonstrates how parentage shares a likeness with con- ceptions of the homeland in the novel because it draws a direct parallel between Grandfatherʼs fatherlessness and his attempt not only to under- stand “his immediate past”, but more strikingly, “his distant past” [my emphasis], through the study of history. For Grandfather, his fatherless- ness is synonymous with a lack of cultural history, which highlights him as a diasporic subject in the sense that the parent figure is representative of a homeland, or a tie to the homeland. Grandfather is further figu- ratively parentless when it comes to his mother because she fails to serve as a subsequent tie to the homeland by refusing to even speak of his father, and forbidding him to so much as ask about him (MacLeod, 1999,
100 | loss, diaspora, displacement, and parentage in no great mischief pp. 113–4). His fatherlessness can even be understood as an extended fatherlessness for later generations of the clan. At one point, Alexander reflects that he has “a haunting sympathy… for […] the man [his Grand- fatherʼs father] who died, crushed beneath the load of logs on the skidway, perhaps without realizing he had set a life in motion, which would in turn result in even such a life as [Alexander’s]” (ibid., p. 32). With this, Grand father, then, becomes an inadequate link to the homeland for younger generations because he himself still struggles to locate his own history and parentage whether in the mirror (ibid., p. 114), or in A History of the Scottish Highlands (ibid., p. 264). He also represents a paralysis in the novel as he searches for his past throughout, but never seems to find it. Grand- father “die[s] reading” the aforementioned history book (ibid.), which suggests that it was a search to the death, perhaps unfruitful because he never finds his sense of self and history in a textbook. With this, MacLeod differentiates between recorded history that is written, factual and chro nological, and cultural memory that is more akin to the mythical origins that Alexander deems, at times, illusory and imagined (ibid., pp. 20, 24). He is a diasporic subject, searching and yearning for an identity that links him to that homeland which was manifest in his parentage (nowhere else), and then lost in their literal and figurative deaths, but he never quite satiates his hunger for history and identity with book in hand, and becomes “overtaken by his own history” (ibid., p. 265). The novel begins and ends with Calums, introducing Calum Ruadh of 1779 early on and concluding with the death of Alexanderʼs oldest brother, Calum. After phoning Alexander and saying, “Itʼs time” (ibid., p. 276), Calum and Alexander make the drive from Toronto to Cape Breton—a return to the homeland away from the original homeland (Scotland). In the final moments of Calumʼs life, he becomes a parallel figure to Calum Ruadh who made the first journey over from Scotland. As Alexander drives within Cape Breton, he turns to his brother and reflects: I turn to Calum once again. I reach for his cooling hand which lies on the seat beside him. I touch the Celtic ring. This is the man who carried me on his shoulders when I was three. Carried me across the ice from the island, but could never carry me back again. Out on the island the neglected fresh-water well pours fourth its gift of sweetness into the whitened darkness of the night. Ferry the dead. Fois do tʼanam. Peace to his soul. (Ibid., p. 283) The repetition of Fois do tʼanam, the words inscribed on Calum Ruadhʼs grave (ibid., p. 27), works to frame the entire narrative by bringing the lineage from one Calum full circle to another as the phrase is only men- tioned twice, both times in reference to each Calum. Alexander’s touching
| 101 études écossaises 18
Calum’s “Celtic ring” emphasizes this cyclicality that brings everything together first, in that the piece of jewellery is a ring, and second, in that the ring’s being “Celtic” suggests that it is adorned with traditional celtic knots which are often cyclical or demonstrative of “the never-ending circle” (ibid., p. 223). For Karl E. Jirgens, the image of Calum’s Celtic ring is suggestive of “a cyclical and endless pattern of departure and return” (2001, p. 84) that is emulated in the very narrative of the novel, and the ring’s “pattern […] represents the flux of nature and being, as well as the inter-connectedness of all life” (ibid., p. 88). Beyond the repetition of Fois do tʼanam and the ring’s being suggestive of a cyclical echoing, Alexander’s description of Calum as “the man who carried [him] […] across the ice from the island, but could never carry [him] back again” is yet another a skillful echoing of Calum Ruadhʼs initial carrying of his family over from Scotland and inability to ever carry them back. The scene parallels the two Calums in a way that marks Calum as a father figure to the clan who was, like Calum Ruadh, “responsible for all th[e] people clustered around him”. Keefer argues that Calumʼs fall after the death of Fern Picard is a narrative that contrasts the story of his parentsʼ death: “We might call it ‘the doom of Calum’: his fall from grace, in order to defend the honour of his clan, his harsh period of penitential exile, and his long-delayed redemption, in the form of a permanent return to his homeland, to the dark earth of Cape Breton.” (2001, p. 79) She views this “doom” as that which marks the eradication of mining labour (“an ethic and aesthetic work which has vanished” [ibid., p. 79] in history), but there is far more being elegized here than labour. Calumʼs “doom” marks the loss of another tie to the homeland. He, as a Calum Ruadh figure, defends the clanʼs honour out of responsibility, as the eldest. At the point of Calumʼs death, he remains the eldest member of the clann Chalum Ruaidh as his Grandpa, Grandma and Grandfather are all long dead (MacLeod, 1999, pp. 264–5). His death marks the loss of a link to the homeland in that he, in the final years of his life, represents the closest thing to Scotland. Early in the novel and referring to their singing together, Alexander says, “[i]t is as if there is no break between [Calumʼs] ending and my beginning” (ibid., p. 17). Just as Alexander picks up a melody where Calum leaves off, he so too picks up the responsibility of the clann Chalum Ruaidh after Calum gives up his spirit in Cape Breton, one more generation removed from that which was so lost. But Alexander’s new-found responsibility is not solely due to his being the successor in the MacDonald clan. Rather, his being narrator throughout the novel dictates that his most crucial responsibility to the clan is as storyteller. Jirgens suggests that, “as narrator, Alexander assumes his place as guardian of the story of the clann Chalum Ruaidh” (2001, p. 94), but beyond mere “guardian” of the story, Alexander emerges more as a
102 | loss, diaspora, displacement, and parentage in no great mischief
“seanaichie”, a Gaelic word which, as he recalls early in his narrative, refers to an “older singe[r] or storytelle[r] of the clann Chalum Ruaidh” who, moved by “the fire” of the kitchen stove “and its shadows”, “would ‘remember’ events from a Scotland which [he or she] had never seen, or see [the clan’s] future in the shadows of the flickering flames” (MacLeod, 1999, p. 65). Traditionally, in Ireland and Highland Scotland, a seanaichie was “professionally occupied in the study and transmission of traditional history, genealogy, and legend” (“sennachie”, Oxford English Dictionary). It is productive to think of Alexander as “seanaichie” rather than simple storyteller because it denotes a particular cultural significance that is tied specifically to Alexander’s Scottish homeland. Discourse on diaspora and diasporic communities is complicated by the historical usage of the word and the difficulty of locating a widely satisfactory definition for “diaspora”. Operating from within the context of the Scottish diaspora or the “Dispersion of the Highlanders”, No Great Mischief demonstrates how diasporic communities cope with the loss of the homeland territorially, but more importantly, abstractly through cul- tural history and memory. Through a shared cultural memory and his- tory of origination, the members of the clann Chalum Ruaidh reach back to the homeland which—by reason of political circumstances—they had left so long ago, and their sense of the homeland and preservation of Scottish tradition is strengthened through their clan bonds throughout. But the most colourful thread that is sewn throughout MacLeodʼs nar- rative is that of parentage and the parentlessness of central characters of the clann Chalum Ruaidh. While a sense of the homeland is at times enforced through clan bonds, it is just as easily weakened through the loss of mother and father figures. That is, within the Scottish context, and the context of the clan system, parentlessness begins to stand for a loss similar to that of the homeland, in which, with the death of every parent, those links to the homeland through history and memory, are obscured and eventually lost.
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Ashcroft Bill, Griffiths Gareth & Tiffin Helen (eds), 2002, “Re-thinking the Post-Colonial: Post-Colonialism in the Twenty-First Century”, in The Empire Writes Back: Theory and Practice in Post-Colonial Literature, London, Routledge, 2nd ed. Bakhtin Mikhail, 1981, The Dialogic Imagination: Four Essays, M. Holquist (ed.), Trans. Caryl Emerson and Michael Holquist, Austin, University of Texas Press.
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Basu Paul, 2007, “Introduction”, in Highland Homecomings: Genealogy and Heritage Tourism in the Scottish Diaspora, New York, Routledge Taylor & Francis Group. Cho Lily, 2007, “The Turn to Diaspora”, Topia, vol. 17, pp. 11–30. “clan”, Oxford Reference, January 2010. Web, 14 Jan. 2016. Essential Gaelic Dictionary, 2004, B. Robertson and I. MacDonald (eds), Chicago, Contemporary Books. Hiscock Andrew, 2000, “ʻThis Inherited Lifeʼ: Alistair MacLeod and the Ends of History”, Journal of Commonwealth Literature, vol. 35, pp. 51–70. Jirgens Karl E., 2001, “Lighthouse, Ring and Fountain: The Never- Ending Circle in No Great Mischief ”, in I. Guilford (ed.), Alistair Mac- Leod: Essays on His Works, Toronto, Guernica, pp. 84–94. Print. Keefer Janet Kulyk, 2001, “Loved Labour Lost”, in I. Guilford (ed.), Alistair MacLeod: Essays on His Works, Toronto, Guernica, pp. 72–83. Macdonald Graeme, 2006, “Postcolonialism and Scottish Studies”, New Formations, vol. 59, pp. 116–31. MacLeod Alistair, 1999, No Great Mischief, Toronto, McClelland & Stew- art Inc. Nicholson Colin, 2001, “ Resourcing the Historical Present: A Post- modern Turn in Alistair MacLeod’s Short Fiction”, in I. Guilford (ed.), Alistair MacLeod: Essays on His Works, Toronto, Guernica, pp. 95–111. Omhovère Claire, 2006, “Roots and Routes in a Selection of Stories by Alistair MacLeod”, Canadian Literature, vol. 189, pp. 50–67. Ong Walter J., 2002, Orality and Literacy: The Technologizing of the Word, London, Routledge. Ricœur Paul, 2004, Memory, History, Forgetting, Trans. Kathleen Blamey and David Pellauer, Chicago, University of Chicago Press. Rogers Shelagh, 2001, “An Interview with Alistair”, in I. Guilford (ed.), Alistair MacLeod: Essays on His Works, Toronto, Guernica, pp. 11–35. “sennachie, n.1.”, OED Online, Oxford University Press, December 2015. Web. 14 Jan. 2016. Urquhart Jane, 2001, “The Vision of Alistair MacLeod”, in I. Guil- ford (ed.), Alistair MacLeod: Essays on His Works, Toronto, Guernica, pp. 36–42.
104 | Recherches en études écossaises
Christian Auer Université de Strasbourg
La transgression du dogme du laissez-faire : l’intervention du gouvernement britannique dans les Hautes Terres d’Écosse en 1846-1847
Les années 1846 et 1847 sont à considérer comme des années noires dans l’histoire des Hautes Terres d’Écosse. L’économie de cette région septentrionale du Royaume-Uni avait toujours reposé sur des bases fra- giles mais, au cours des premières décennies du dix-neuvième siècle, la situation se détériora en raison d’un endettement de plus en plus impor- tant des élites foncières, d’une forte augmentation des fermages, d’une population en constant accroissement et d’une agriculture dépendant en grande partie de la culture de la pomme de terre. La pomme de terre avait été introduite dans le nord de l’Écosse dans les années 1740 et était rapidement devenue l’élément essentiel du régime alimentaire des habi- tants. Le commentaire suivant, qui date de la fin du dix-huitième siècle, confirme tout l’intérêt que pouvait constituer sa culture : It grows on the poorest soil, is in season at least nine months in the year, is relished by every animal, affords an excellent food for man and yields more sustenance by the acre, than any plant we know. It has already done more, and is able, by having the cultivation of it farther extended, to do more to keep our people from emigrating, than any other expe- dient, which has been hitherto devised 1. Une acre plantée de pommes de terre pouvait subvenir aux besoins de quatre fois plus de personnes qu’une acre plantée de céréales. En raison de ce rendement très élevé, les paysans étaient en mesure de vivre sur de minuscules parcelles ; plus la parcelle était petite, plus le paysan et sa famille dépendaient de la pomme de terre. Cette dépendance à une seule forme de culture devait s’avérer catastrophique quand, à la fin de l’année 1846, le mildiou se propagea dans les Highlands. La maladie avait fait son apparition en Europe en 1832. En 1842, elle avait endommagé
1. James Robertson, General View of the Agriculture of the Southern Districts of the County of Perth, 1794, cité par Richards (1982, vol. I, p. 116).
| 107 études écossaises 18 les récoltes sur la côte est des États-Unis. Elle fut ensuite signalée dans l’Europe du Nord, notamment en Allemagne, en Belgique, en France et en Irlande. Le mildiou, causé par le champignon Phytophtora infestans, commença à détruire les récoltes de pommes de terre dans l’île de Skye avant de se répandre dans toute la région. À la fin de l’année, près des trois quarts de la population des paysans de l’ouest des Highlands et des Hébrides n’avaient de nourriture que pour quelques semaines tout au plus. L’hiver de 1846 fut froid et neigeux ; le typhus, le choléra et même le scorbut, qui avait pourtant disparu des Highlands depuis plus d’un an, firent leur apparition dans certaines régions. La presse régionale et locale consacra de nombreux articles à la situation dans les Highlands : A population of fully 50,000 is literally bordering on starvation. The number of deaths from dysentery and cholera is increasing with fearful rapidity among the cottar class, and the small crofters are fast exhausting their little stores of corn. Most of them, we are assured, now restrict themselves to one scanty meal in the day, and the children and aged persons continue the greater part of their time in their miserable beds for the sake of warmth, and that they may require less food 2. Le gouvernement britannique se trouva confronté à une série de ques- tions délicates : à court terme, comment, tout en restant fidèle aux prin- cipes du laissez-faire et du libre-échange, venir en aide à une population menacée par la famine sans encourager la dépendance et l’assistanat, situations inacceptables pour des victoriens obnubilés par l’éthique du travail, et, à long terme, comment résoudre de façon pérenne le pro- blème récurrent de la misère dans les Highlands ? Cet article se propose d’étudier la nature des mesures prises par le gou- vernement whig de John Russell et mises en œuvre par Charles Trevelyan, haut-fonctionnaire au ministère des Finances, et d’analyser ces mesures au regard de la théorie du laissez-faire, pierre angulaire de la philosophie économique du milieu du dix-neuvième siècle. Il convient de remarquer d’emblée que les conséquences de la famine dans les régions du nord de l’Écosse ne sont pas comparables avec la tragédie qui frappa l’Irlande à la même période. La famine en Écosse ne toucha qu’une partie limitée de la population, principalement dans l’Ouest et dans les îles des Hébrides, ce qui explique sans doute que les mesures individuelles et collectives qui furent prises pendant l’hiver de 1846-1847 parvinrent à atténuer les effets de la maladie de la pomme de terre. Même si certains propriétaires rechignèrent à venir en aide à leurs paysans, une grande partie d’entre eux firent de réels efforts pour
2. « Government Relief – The Poor », The Inverness Courier, 9 décembre 1846.
108 | la transgression du dogme du laissez-faire fournir une aide alimentaire aux populations dont les récoltes avaient été détruites par le mildiou 3. Dans un premier temps, le pire put être évité grâce à la mobilisation de la Free Church, seule structure à venir en aide à la population pendant la période la plus critique, de la fin de l’année 1846 au début de l’année 1847. Son organisation et sa parfaite connaissance du terrain lui permirent de réagir très rapidement pour collecter les fonds et les répartir en fonction des besoins les plus immé- diats. En novembre fut constitué le Free Church Destitution Committee qui récolta jusqu’à £15,000. Le gouvernement, quant à lui, se trouva informé très tôt de l’ampleur du désastre qui frappait les Highlands. Durant l’été 1846, de nombreuses voix firent pression sur le ministre de l’Intérieur, George Grey, pour que le gouvernement prenne des mesures d’aide à l’économie locale. Au cours des mois qui suivirent, la situation devenant de plus en plus critique pour les propriétaires des domaines les plus menacés par la famine, le gou- vernement fut régulièrement sollicité pour qu’il vienne en aide aux plus démunis. Les propriétaires ne manquaient pas de rappeler au gouverne- ment qu’il était de sa responsabilité d’aider les paysans en difficulté : You, the Government are morally and legally responsible for the wants of a population whose bread you have broken, whose occupation you have destroyed 4 […] Clearly the moral and legal obligation lies here at the door of the Government, the offending party, and not at that of the already victimized proprietor, perfectly innocent of the cause of the evil. (National Library of Scotland, Parliamentary Papers, Correspondence relating to the measures adopted for the relief of the distress in Scotland, Relief Correspondence [désigné ci-après sous RC], vol. LIII, 1847, Clark à Coffin, 1er février 1847). Ce genre de commentaires ne manque pas d’ironie quand on sait que les propriétaires des Hautes Terres d’Écosse bénéficiaient d’une importante marge de manœuvre dans la gestion de leurs domaines et s’opposaient avec la plus grande virulence à toute ingérence gouvernementale dans leurs affaires. Dans un premier temps, le gouvernement essaya d’évaluer les consé- quences du mildiou dans la région et c’est ainsi que George Grey chargea
3. La question de l’attitude et de la responsabilité des propriétaires terriens suscite de vifs débats entre les historiens des Hautes Terres. James Hunter estime qu’ils faillirent gravement à leurs respon- sabilités (voir Hunter, 1976) alors que Tom Devine pense, au contraire, que les propriétaires, dans leur majorité, vinrent au secours de leurs paysans (voir Devine, 1988, notamment p. 83-110). 4. Clark fait sans doute référence à la récente décision du gouvernement de supprimer la taxe sur la barille espagnole, concurrent direct du varech écossais. L’exploitation du varech, qui avait permis à de nombreux propriétaires des Highlands d’engranger de confortables bénéfices pendant les premières décennies du dix-neuvième siècle, devenait ainsi nettement moins rentable. Des milliers de paysans se retrouvèrent sans emploi et furent déplacés vers d’autres endroits des domaines ou contraints à l’émigration.
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Charles Trevelyan d’effectuer une analyse de la situation. Début sep- tembre, Trevelyan confia une mission d’inspection à l’un de ses subor- donnés, Edward Pine Coffin qui, depuis janvier 1846, était responsable des opérations d’aide aux victimes de la famine en Irlande. Les instructions de Trevelyan plaçaient d’emblée les éventuelles opérations de secours dans une perspective « minimaliste ». Coffin utilisa les termes « d’assistance collatérale 5 ». La feuille de route de Coffin précisait que le gouvernement n’interviendrait que dans les régions les plus touchées par la famine afin de ne pas perturber l’équilibre commercial de la région. Trevelyan met- tait l’accent sur la nécessité absolue de laisser les propriétaires s’acquitter de leurs responsabilités envers leurs pauvres. Il ajoutait que l’aide du gou- vernement devait consister en une aide de type logistique : The measures of relief […] have reference only to the remote districts in the West High- lands and in which the people are more than ordinarily dependent for their food upon the cultivation of the potato […] and that it is not intended to interfere in any way with those districts in which corn forms the principal article of cultivation or for which supplies of food may reasonably be expected to be provided by private merchants and dealers. It must also be understood that, even in those districts in which it may be determined to afford relief, it is by no means intended to do it in such a way as would relieve the landowners and other persons of property from the obligation they are under to support the destitute poor in their respective neighbourhoods; and the assistance contemplated would be rather in the form of giving a proper organisation and direction to the efforts of the proprietors and perhaps of rendering assistance in providing supplies of food to be sold at a rea- sonable market price in some of the most remote districts. (RC, Trevelyan à Coffin, 11 septembre 1846) Cette citation comporte une notion fondamentale, à savoir l’absence d’in- tervention gouvernementale (not intended to interfere), pierre angulaire de la doxa économique de ce milieu de dix-neuvième siècle selon laquelle le gouvernement n’avait nullement vocation à intervenir directement dans les affaires économiques du pays. Quelques jours plus tard, Trevelyan précisa cependant qu’il était exclu de laisser les habitants des Highlands mourir de faim: les propriétaires se devaient de fournir des emplois à leurs paysans, quelle que fût la nature de ces emplois : The people cannot, under any circumstances, be allowed to starve, and if they are not employed by the proprietors in reproductive works on their estates, they must be employed on comparatively unproductive works at the expense of the proprietors. In other words the choice is between agricultural improvement and the wholesale and indefinitely prolonged out of doors relief of able-bodied poor. (RC, Trevelyan à Horne, 20 septembre 1846)
5. RC, Coffin à Trevelyan, 28 septembre 1846.
110 | la transgression du dogme du laissez-faire
Coffin arriva à Oban à la mi-septembre et commença immédiatement un voyage d’investigation qui l’amena dans l’ouest des Highlands et dans les Hébrides, les régions les plus touchées par la maladie de la pomme de terre. Il ne lui fallut guère plus d’une dizaine de jours pour qu’il se rende compte de la complexité de la tâche qui l’attendait. Il estima que le gou- vernement se trouvait placé devant un dilemme : soit il prenait la décision de prendre en charge le financement de l’aide, ce qui revenait à accorder une subvention inversement proportionnelle aux « sacrifices » consentis par les propriétaires, soit il demandait aux propriétaires de rembourser les sommes avancées, ce qui s’apparentait à les soumettre à un système de taxation qu’ils exécraient. Coffin opta pour la mise en place d’un sys- tème d’aide indirecte afin que les propriétaires ne soient pas déchargés de leurs obligations morales. Il fut en conséquence décidé d’établir deux dépôts de farine dans la région, l’un à Portree, dans l’île de Skye, et l’autre à Tobermory, dans l’île de Mull. La farine ne devait être vendue que lorsque le produit de la récolte et les réserves des paysans étaient épuisées. Il était hors de question de procéder à des distributions de nourriture gratuite et il était clairement spécifié que la farine ne pouvait être vendue à crédit. Le montant du prix de la farine devint l’une des préoccupations majeures de Coffin. Les prix de la farine dans les Highlands étaient ceux pratiqués par une poignée de marchands, incapables de faire face à la demande massive qui résulta de la destruction des récoltes. Proposer des prix inférieurs à ceux pratiqués par les revendeurs locaux aurait entraîné la déstabilisation du marché local, mesure qu’aucun gouvernement vic- torien ne se serait hasardé à prendre, et fixer le prix de la farine à un niveau trop élevé aurait découragé les propriétaires d’utiliser les dépôts mis en place par le gouvernement. La priorité absolue était d’éviter que le marché local ne soit désorganisé par l’intervention gouvernementale : We cannot force up the wages of labour, or force down the prices of provisions, without dis- organizing society; and the temporary evil ought, therefore, to be met by the temporary expe- dient of charity in the best way as we can. (RC, Trevelyan à Coffin, 13 janvier 1847) C’est pourquoi Trevelyan décida d’aligner le prix de la farine vendue dans les dépôts sur ceux des marchés de Liverpool et de Glasgow, ce qui fit le bonheur de certains marchands locaux qui purent réaliser de subs- tantiels bénéfices, les prix de ces marchés étant supérieurs à ceux prati- qués dans les Highlands. Au grand dam de Coffin, les prix de la farine ne cessèrent d’augmenter, ce qui risquait d’entraîner une augmentation des salaires et, à terme, une réduction de la quantité de travail disponible. Les propriétaires comprirent très vite tout l’intérêt du dispositif gouver- nemental : les demandes se firent de plus en plus nombreuses, comme en témoigne le courrier rédigé par l’un des collaborateurs de Coffin :
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Demands are coming very thick upon me. I have taken no less than a thousand pounds this week … The whole country is coming upon us, every application stating that the case is one of extraordinary emergency, and that to refuse it will be to consign the people to starvation. It is rarely possible—and (I need not say) where possible, highly invidious, to discriminate; and what is worse, not a little dangerous, for whole districts are getting to depend on our supply. (RC, Rose à Coffin, 2 février 1847) Coffin, constatant que la situation, loin de s’améliorer, empirait, en arriva à la conclusion que le gouvernement se verrait dans l’obligation de renoncer à l’un de ses principes les plus sacrés. Il était en effet persuadé qu’il faudrait procéder à des distributions de nourriture gratuites : I fear that the circumstances of the present wide-spread calamity will preclude the possi- bility of adhering very closely to the principle of non-gratuitous distribution […] I accord- ingly regard an increase of the demoralizing mendicant spirit, already too prevalent among the Highland population, as an inevitable consequence of the present crisis. (RC, Coffin à Trevelyan, 4 février 1847) À la fin du mois de mai, Trevelyan demanda à Coffin d’établir un bilan des opérations menées dans le cadre du dispositif gouvernemental. Coffin avait comme mission de déterminer l’impact réel de la maladie de la pomme de terre, d’évaluer les efforts des propriétaires et l’effica- cité des stratégies mises en œuvre et enfin de déterminer si le dispositif adopté avait eu des effets bénéfiques sur les habitudes de travail des pay- sans (RC, Trevelyan à Coffin, 29 mai 1847). Son rapport final représente un éclairage précieux sur l’ampleur et l’efficacité de l’action menée par le gouvernement dans les Highlands entre septembre 1846 et le début de l’été 1847. Coffin y indiquait que la situation des habitants, grâce à l’aide fournie par les autorités, était meilleure que les années précédentes. On notera cependant que Coffin, lors de ses différentes missions d’inspection, n’eut que très peu de contacts avec la paysannerie. Il ne rencontra que des propriétaires, des régisseurs, des représentants des autorités locales ou des membres de la communauté économique. Au début de l’été de l’année 1847, le dispositif en place fut remplacé par une nouvelle struc- ture, indépendante du gouvernement, le Central Board of Management of the Fund for the Relief of the Destitute Inhabitants of the Highlands. Cet exemple d’intervention gouvernementale dans l’économie nous interroge sur la place de la théorie du laissez-faire en ce milieu de dix- neuvième siècle. Le terme de laissez faire présente une certaine réticence à se laisser définir avec précision ; il semble revêtir différentes significations en fonction des champs d’activité ou des époques auxquelles il fait réfé- rence. Laissez-faire est parfois considéré comme un synonyme de libre échange ; certains économistes estiment que la notion ne peut s’appli-
112 | la transgression du dogme du laissez-faire quer qu’au champ de l’économie alors que, pour d’autres, le terme peut s’appliquer à la description des politiques sociales menées par un gouver- nement. L’Oxford English Dictionary indique que le laissez-faire renvoie au principe selon lequel un gouvernement ne devrait pas interférer dans les actions entreprises par des personnes individuelles, notamment dans les affaires industrielles et commerciales ; c’est donc bien la notion de non- intervention gouvernementale dans l’économie qui se situerait au cœur de la doctrine du laissez-faire. Cette doctrine, fondement du système de pensée économique en ce milieu de dix-neuvième siècle, fut, dans ses grandes lignes partagée, par Robert Peel, le Premier ministre conserva- teur qui resta au pouvoir jusqu’en juin 1846 et son successeur whig John Russell. Attachés au principe de non intervention de l’État dans les ques- tions économiques et sociales, ils estimaient tous deux qu’un gouverne- ment n’avait vocation ni à bouleverser les lois du marché ni à mettre en œuvre des mesures qui pourraient porter atteinte à la libre circulation des biens et des denrées. John Stuart Mill devait clairement énoncer le principe servant de cadre à toute politique gouvernementale : « Letting alone, in short, should be the gen- eral practice. Every departure from it, unless required by some great good, is a certain evil. » (Mill, 1865 [1848], p. 573) Nassau Senior, un des économistes les plus influents de l’époque victorienne, définissait le rôle d’un gouverne- ment de la façon suivante : The duty of the Government is to keep the peace, to protect all his subjects from the vio- lence and fraud and malice of one another, and, having done so, to leave them to pursue what they believe to be their own interest in the way which they deem advisable 6. Les thèses du laissez-faire étaient soutenues et diffusées par une partie importante de la presse : on pensera ici à The Economist, notamment entre 1843 et 1854 lorsque James Wilson assura les fonctions de rédacteur en chef du journal, ou au Leeds Mercury qui estimaient que le gouvernement n’avait pas vocation à intervenir dans les secteurs de l’industrie, du com- merce, de la santé ou de l’éducation. Lors du débat sur l’adoption du Public Health Bill de 1848, The Economist rappela les principes qui devaient guider les politiques économiques d’un gouvernement : Suffering and evil are nature’s admonitions; they cannot be got rid of; and the impatient attempts of benevolence to banish them from the world by legislation, before benevolence has learned their object and their end, have always been productive of more evil than good. (The Economist, 13 mai 1848)
6. Nassau William Senior, Report of the Commission on the Condition of the Hand-loom Weavers, 1841, dans Historical and Philosophical Essays, vol. II, Londres, Longman, 1865, p. 121-122.
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Pour l’historien Eric Howsbawm, les années 1840-1850 représentèrent l’âge d’or du laissez-faire : By the middle of the nineteenth century government policy in Britain came as near laissez- faire as has ever been practicable in a modern state. Government was small and com- paratively cheap […] it even succeeded in avoiding direct responsibility for some things normally regarded as obvious functions of government, such as (until 1870) education. Where it intervened […] it was like the traffic policeman, to regulate but not to encourage or discourage […] Two examples will illustrate the degree of government abstention. Britain was the only county which systematically refused any fiscal protection to its indus- tries, and the only country in which the government neither built, nor helped to finance (directly or indirectly), or even planned any part of the railway system. (Hobsbawm, 1990, p. 233) Si l’on se réfère à ces principes, force est de constater que l’interven- tion du gouvernement dans les Hautes Terres d’Écosse en 1846-1847 relève du paradoxe. Ce paradoxe peut d’ailleurs être décelé dans les écrits des partisans du laissez-faire eux-mêmes. Ainsi, John Stuart Mill consi- dérait que le gouvernement pouvait intervenir pour venir en aide à des populations victimes de circonstances exceptionnelles : It will be admitted to be right that human beings should help one another, and the more so, in proportion to the urgency of the need; and no one needs help more urgently as one who is starving. The claim to help, therefore, created by destitution, is one of the strongest which can exist; and there is prima facie the amplest reason for making the relief of so extreme an exigency as certain to those who require it, as by any arrangements of society it can be made. (Mill, 1865 [1848], p. 590) Ces hésitations quant au bien fondé et à la pertinence de l’intervention d’un gouvernement dans le champ de l’économie constituent une bonne illustration des divergences qui existaient au sein du parti au pouvoir. La nébuleuse whig-libérale comportait différentes factions et tendances : John Russell éprouva bien des difficultés à faire la synthèse entre les membres de son parti qui estimaient que les propriétaires portaient une lourde part de responsabilité dans la crise qui frappaient les Highlands, les libéraux modérés, qui atténuaient la responsabilité des paysans et des proprié- taires, et les libéraux moralistes, fortement marqués par les croyances évangéliques, pour lesquels le mildiou avait été envoyé par la providence pour réformer en profondeur les pratiques sociales existantes. L’influence que ces derniers exercèrent sur les politiques menées par le gouverne- ment fut déterminante : le ministre de l’Intérieur, George Grey, le chan- celier de l’Échiquier, Charles Wood, et le très influent Charles Trevelyan estimaient que l’intervention gouvernementale n’était nullement une fin en soi mais un outil destiné à inculquer des habitudes de travail à une
114 | la transgression du dogme du laissez-faire population dont on ne cessait de critiquer l’indolence et l’inactivité. Les dispositifs adoptés devaient ainsi être contrôlés et encadrés avec la plus grande fermeté ; il était hors de question de fournir une aide à des pay- sans qui ne le méritaient pas. Des arguments similaires furent utilisés pour délimiter le champ d’intervention gouvernementale en Irlande : Every system of poor relief must contain a penal and repulsive element, in order to pre- vent its leading to the disorganization of society. If the system is such as to be agreeable either to those who relieve or to those who are relieved, and still more if it is agreeable to both, all test of destitution must be at an end. (Trevelyan, 9 octobre 1846, cité dans Gray, 1998, p. 243.) On retrouve cette oscillation entre ces deux pôles apparemment contra- dictoires dans l’attitude de Coffin lui-même. Dans le rapport final qu’il remit à Trevelyan en 1847, Coffin indiqua clairement qu’à l’avenir le gou- vernement devait éviter de venir en aide aux propriétaires : Any extraordinary measures which the new occasion may require […] ought to be left to private forethought and exertion, without implicating the Government in proceedings wholly foreign to its customary and proper duties. (RC, Coffin à Trevelyan, rapport final) Il ajoutait que les opérations d’assistance devaient cesser le plus tôt possible, car elles maintenaient le paysan dans un état d’abjecte dépen- dance. Les personnes valides en mesure de travailler ne devaient béné- ficier d’aucune aide et devaient impérativement rechercher un emploi. Il convenait avant tout d’adopter des règles très strictes afin d’éviter de donner de la nourriture aux personnes qui ne le méritaient pas. Pourtant, si les Highlands purent éviter la famine lors de l’hiver 1846-1847, ce fut grâce à l’action du gouvernement, menée notamment par Coffin. Les his- toriens ont, d’ailleurs, été unanimes à saluer son rôle déterminant. Tom Devine le présente comme un fonctionnaire pondéré et très expérimenté (Devine, 1988a, p. 121) et Charles Withers considère qu’il parvint à ana- lyser la situation des Highlands avec une grande acuité (Withers, 1988, p. 242). Même les historiens les plus critiques envers les propriétaires des Highlands et les politiques menées par le gouvernement s’accordent à reconnaître les qualités de Coffin. John Prebble, ardent défenseur de la cause des petits paysans des Highlands, le décrit ainsi comme un commis- saire général intelligent et consciencieux (Prebble, 1969, p. 174) ; James Hunter, critique inlassable des élites des Highlands, considère qu’il fut un homme généreux, travailleur et extrêmement compétent (Hunter, 1976, p. 57). La tension entre les deux pôles que constituèrent, d’une part, le respect des dogmes du laissez-faire et du libre échange et, d’autre part, l’intervention gouvernementale trouve une bonne illustration dans un
| 115 études écossaises 18 discours que prononça Thomas Macaulay lors du débat sur l’adoption du Ten Hours Bill de mai 1846 : I [Thomas Macaulay] believe that I am as firmly attached as any Gentleman in this House to the principle of free trade properly stated, and I should state this principle in these terms: that it is not desirable that the State should interfere with the contracts of ripe age and sound mind, touching matters purely commercial. I am not aware of any excep- tions to that principle; but you would fall into error if you apply it to the transactions which are not purely commercial … the principle of non-interference is one that cannot be applied without great restriction where the public health or public morality is concerned. (Thomas Babington Macaulay, Chambre des communes, 22 mai 1846) Il deviendrait, en conséquence, plus difficile de parler de transgres- sion si l’on considère que le dogme fut peut être moins solide que nous ne l’avions laissé entendre. Ce que prouve l’intervention du gouverne- ment dans les Highlands, c’est que le dogme, la doctrine ou la théorie ne constituent que des lignes de conduite générale et qu’ils sont susceptibles d’être adaptés ou contournés en fonction d’événements et de circons- tances exceptionnels. Tout système, tout dogme, toute doctrine, aussi rigides et contraignants qu’ils soient, peuvent être transgressés par des individus qui pourtant font partie intégrante du système. Le pouvoir de décision, en dernier ressort, appartient aux individus, qui semblent donc être en mesure de s’affranchir des pesanteurs des structures auxquelles ils appartiennent ou des idéologies auxquelles ils adhèrent. Les mesures prises par le gouvernement pour venir en aide aux paysans des Highlands lors de l’hiver 1846-1847 prouvent à quel point il est difficile de qualifier une période par des termes génériques ou des concepts globalisants qui, par essence, ne peuvent prendre en compte la diversité, la complexité et la richesse des événements ou des paradoxes de l’Histoire.
Bibliographie
Sources primaires Mill John Stuart, 1865 [1848], Principles of Political Economy with Some of Their Applications to Social Philosophy, Londres, Longman. Senior Nassau Willi, 1865, Historical and Philosophical Essays, volume II, Londres, Longman. National Library of Scotland, Parliamentary Papers, Correspondence re- lating to the measures adopted for the relief of the distress in Scotland, volume LIII, 1847. The Inverness Courier.
116 | la transgression du dogme du laissez-faire
Sources secondaires Briggs Asa, 1979, The Age of Improvement, Londres, Longman. Carefoot G. L. & Sprott E. R., 1969, Famine on the Wind: Plant Diseases and Human History, Londres, Angus et Robertson. Crosnier Jean-Claude, Robert Yvon & Rousselle Patrick (éds), 1996, La pomme de terre : production, amélioration, ennemis et maladies, utilisations, Paris, Éditions Quæ. Devine Thomas Martin, 1988a, The Great Highland Famine, Édimbourg, John Donald. —, 1988b, People and Society in Scotland. Volume 1 (1760–1830), Édimbourg, John Donald. —, 1990, Conflict and Stability in Scottish Society, Édimbourg, John Donald. —, 1994, Clanship to Crofters’ War, Manchester, Manchester Univ. Press. —, 1995, Exploring the Scottish Past, East Linton, Tuckwell Press. Gray Malcolm, 1957, The Highland Economy 1750–1850, Édimbourg, Oliver and Boyd. Gray Peter, 1998, Famine, Land and Politics: British Government and Irish Society, 1843–50, Dublin, Irish Academic Press. Hobsbawm Eric J., 1990 [1968], Industry and Empire, Londres, Penguin. Hunter James, 1976, The Making of the Crofting Community, Édimbourg, John Donald. Masefield Geoffrey Bussell, 1963, Famine: Its Prevention and Relief, Londres, Oxford University Press. Mitchison Rosalind, 2000, The Old Poor Law in Scotland. The Experience of Poverty, 1574–1845, Édimbourg, Edinburgh University Press. Phillipson Nicholas T. & Mitchison Rosalind (éds), 1970, Scotland in the Age of Improvement, Édimbourg, Edinburgh University Press. Prebble John, 1969 [1963], The Highland Clearances, Harmondsworth, Penguin. Richards Eric, 1982 & 1985, A History of the Highland Clearances, 2 vol., Londres, Croom Helm. Rotberg Robert I. & Rabb T. K., 1985, Hunger and History: The Impact of Changing Food Production and Consumption Patterns on Society, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Salaman Redcliffe N., 1949, The History and Social Influence of the Potato, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Symon J. A., 1958, Scottish Farming Past and Present, Édimbourg et Londres, Oliver et Boyd. Taylor Arthur J., 1972, Laissez-faire and State Intervention in Nineteenth-Century Britain, Londres, Macmillan. Withers Charles W. J., 1988, Gaelic Scotland: The Transformation of a Culture Region, Londres, Routledge.
| 117
Marion Amblard Université Grenoble Alpes
Le thème du travail agricole dans les tableaux des Glasgow Boys, ou l’Écosse selon des peintres victoriens
Tout au long de l’année 2010, les peintres de l’école de Glasgow, désor- mais connus sous le nom de Glasgow Boys, ont été à l’honneur en Grande- Bretagne. Plusieurs expositions leur ont été consacrées à Londres, à Édim- bourg et surtout dans la ville de Glasgow qui a organisé la plus grande rétrospective dédiée à ces artistes depuis 1968 1. Les Glasgow Boys ont occupé le devant de la scène artistique écossaise des années 1880 jusqu’au début du xxe siècle, ils jouissaient alors d’une renommée internationale puisque leurs tableaux étaient exposés en Europe et aux États-Unis. Après la Première Guerre mondiale, ce groupe de peintres est tombé dans l’ou- bli et ce ne fut qu’à partir de la fin des années 1960 que leur œuvre fut redécouverte et revalorisée. De nos jours, avec les Colourists 2, ce sont in- déniablement les peintres écossais les plus prisés en Grande-Bretagne 3. On distingue plusieurs périodes dans leur œuvre : à leurs débuts, ils furent influencés par les artistes naturalistes 4 et peignirent des tableaux
1. L’exposition qui s’intitule The Glasgow Boys a eu lieu à la Fleming Collection, à Londres, du 14 septembre 2010 au 18 décembre 2010. La National Gallery of Scotland a organisé l’exposition The Glasgow Boys: Drawing Inspiration du 29 mai au 15 septembre 2010. Pioneering Painters: The Glasgow Boys 1880–1900 a été tout d’abord présentée à Glasgow, à la Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum du 9 avril au 27 septembre 2010, puis a été exposée à la Royal Academy of Arts à Londres du 30 octobre 2010 au 23 janvier 2011. 2. Le groupe d’artistes désormais connu sous le nom de Colourists fut des plus actifs durant la période de l’entre-deux-guerres et se compose de quatre peintres : Francis Campbell Boileau Cadell (1883-1937), John Duncan Fergusson (1874-1961), George Leslie Hunter (1879-1931) et Samuel John Peploe (1871-1935). Sur les Colourists voir R. Billcliffe, 1989, The Scottish Colourists: Cadell, Fer- gusson, Hunter and Peploe, Londres, P. Long et E. Cumming, 2000, The Scottish Colourists, 1900–1930: F. C. B. Cadell, J. D. Fergusson, G. L. Hunter, S. J. Peploe, Édimbourg, National Galleries of Scotland. 3. Ces deux groupes d’artistes font l’objet du plus grand nombre d’expositions consacrées à des peintres écossais. 4. Le courant pictural naturaliste est défini comme étant « la représentation du quotidien avec un accent implacable de vérité. Le Naturalisme […] est la description non flattée de la condition humaine, prenant pour cadre des lieux de travail ou de plaisir ». (« Le Naturalisme », Dictionnaire universel de l’art et des artistes, vol. 3, Paris, Fernand Hazan, 1967, p. 70)
| 119 études écossaises 18 représentant les zones rurales de l’Écosse ; à partir des années 1890, ils délaissèrent progressivement le naturalisme pour s’inspirer du style de James Abbott McNeill Whistler (1834-1903) ; par la suite, les Glasgow Boys se spécialisèrent dans des genres et des styles différents. Ainsi, Arthur Melville (1855-1904) réalisa un grand nombre d’aquarelles inspirées des paysages qu’il avait pu observer lors de ses séjours en Afrique du Nord. Également aquarelliste, Joseph Crawhall (1861-1913) se spécialisa dans la peinture des animaux tandis que Sir John Lavery (1856-1941) 5 compta parmi les portraitistes les plus prisés de Grande-Bretagne. Dans cet article, nous allons plus précisément nous intéresser à la série de tableaux ayant pour thème le travail des ouvriers agricoles écossais qu’ils ont peints entre 1880 et le début des années 1890. Cette étude se propose de rappeler l’im- portance du thème du travail agricole au sein de l’œuvre des Glasgow Boys ; elle démontrera aussi qu’avec ces toiles les peintres ont donné une vision de l’Écosse très différente de celle véhiculée dans les tableaux de la ma- jeure partie des peintres écossais depuis les années 1820. Il conviendra tout d’abord de présenter brièvement les Glasgow Boys, de revenir sur leurs relations avec leurs collègues de la Royal Scottish Academy et de replacer leur œuvre dans un contexte international, ceci afin de comprendre les raisons pour lesquelles le travail agricole fut un temps leur thème de prédilection. Les Glasgow Boys ont pour la plupart étudié sur le continent européen, le plus souvent en France. De retour en Écosse, ils s’inspirèrent du style et de l’approche des peintres fran- çais tels Jean-François Millet (1814-1875), Jules Breton (1827-1906) et Jules Bastien-Lepage (1848-1884), pour peindre des tableaux en réaction aux toiles des peintres de genre et des paysagistes membres de la Royal Scottish Academy. En mettant les scènes de genre paysannes des Glasgow Boys en relation avec les tableaux de leurs contemporains écossais, nous constaterons que ce ne fut pas seulement le style de leurs compatriotes qu’ils rejetaient, mais aussi leurs thèmes. Depuis les années 1820, les paysagistes avaient peint presque exclusivement des vues des Highlands. Avec leurs tableaux paysans, les peintres de l’école de Glasgow ont rap- pelé que l’Écosse se compose de deux régions, et non pas seulement des Highlands ; ils ont aussi présenté l’Écosse comme une terre d’industrie, où le travail compte parmi les qualités fondatrices de l’identité écossaise.
5. Tous les peintres de l’école de Glasgow n’étaient pas natifs de cette ville, mais y ont ouvert un atelier ; Joseph Crawhall et John Lavery venaient respectivement d’Angleterre et d’Irlande. Lavery habita à Glasgow entre 1885 et 1896, tandis que Crawhall y séjourna fréquemment jusqu’en 1898. À cette période, ils travaillèrent régulièrement avec les autres artistes appartenant au mouvement des Glasgow Boys.
120 | le thème du travail agricole dans les tableaux des glasgow boys
Le terme Glasgow Boys désigne une quinzaine de peintres qui eurent un atelier à Glasgow et partagèrent les mêmes modèles et les mêmes objectifs entre 1880 et 1900 6. Ces artistes ne constituaient pas un groupe homogène puisqu’il est possible de distinguer en leur sein trois cercles de peintres : le premier comprenait William York MacGregor (1855-1923) et James Paterson (1854-1932) qui travaillèrent ensemble plusieurs étés sur la côte est de l’Écosse ; le deuxième groupe se composait de James Guthrie (1859-1930), Joseph Crawhall, George Henry (1858-1943) et d’Edward Arthur Walton (1860-1922), artistes qui se lièrent d’une pro- fonde amitié et se retrouvèrent régulièrement pour peindre en plein air ; le troisième cercle de peintres se constituait d’Alexander Roche (1861- 1921), John Lavery et de Thomas Millie Dow (1848-1919) qui firent connaissance lors de leurs études dans les ateliers parisiens et séjour- nèrent dans le village de Grez-sur-Loing. À ces artistes qui étaient les principaux représentants des Glasgow Boys, il convient d’ajouter Arthur Melville, Edward Atkinson Hornel (1864-1933), Alexander Mann (1853- 1908), Robert Macaulay Stevenson (1854-1952), James Nairn (1859- 1904) et David Gauld (1865-1936). L’ensemble de ces peintres avait le plus souvent l’occasion de se côtoyer l’hiver lorsqu’ils retournaient tra- vailler dans leur atelier à Glasgow. À leurs débuts, ces artistes avaient en commun une profonde admi- ration pour les peintres naturalistes français et partageaient la volonté de transformer la peinture écossaise. Tous s’étaient également heurtés à l’opposition des membres de la Royal Scottish Academy qui avaient refusé d’exposer leurs tableaux. Depuis sa création en 1826, cette ins- titution avait tenu à l’écart les peintres travaillant à Glasgow ; c’étaient presque exclusivement les artistes ayant un atelier à Édimbourg qui
6. David Martin fut le premier historien de l’art à reconnaître l’existence de l’école de peinture de Glasgow et à lui consacrer un ouvrage publié à la fin du xixe siècle. Selon Billcliffe il semblerait que ce soient les artistes constituant l’école de Glasgow qui soient à l’origine de l’appellation boys, car entre eux ils avaient pour habitude de se nommer ainsi : « Any artist from Glasgow was cited as a member of the Glasgow “School” by the local social magazines Quiz and The Bailie at the beginning of the 1880s. Recognition outside Glasgow of their work as having a certain unity came to the painters after an exhibition at the Grosvernor Gallery in London in 1890. It was at that time and by the London critics that the term “School” was coined; to the painters themselves and their friends in Glasgow they “were just the Boys”. » (Billcliffe, 2002, p. 15) Les spécialistes sont en désaccord sur le nombre exact de peintres faisant partie des Glasgow Boys. Dans son ouvrage The Glasgow Boys. The Glasgow School of Painting 1875–1895, Roger Billcliffe compte quatorze peintres : Joseph Crawhall, Thomas Millie Dow, James Guthrie, George Henry, Edward Atkinson Hornel, William Kennedy (1859-1918), Sir John Lavery, William York Mac- Gregor, Alexander Mann, Arthur Melville, James Paterson, Alexander Roche, Robert Macaulay Stevenson et Edward Arthur Walton. Quant à eux, les auteurs du catalogue de l’exposition Pioneering Painters. The Glasgow Boys 1880–1900 répertorient au total dix-huit peintres. Outre les peintres énon- cés précédemment, ils considèrent que David Gauld, James Whitelaw Hamilton, James Nairn et James Stuart Park (1862-1933) étaient également membres des Glasgow Boys.
| 121 études écossaises 18 avaient été élus membres de la Royal Scottish Academy et qui avaient pu y exposer leurs œuvres. De plus, dans un premier temps, les académiciens n’approuvèrent ni le style des peintres de Glasgow, ni les thèmes qu’ils retenaient pour leurs tableaux. Au début des années 1880, les membres de la Royal Scottish Academy spécialisés dans la peinture de genre sui- vaient la tradition de Sir David Wilkie (1785-1841), tandis que les pay- sagistes représentaient essentiellement des vues des Highlands. Depuis la fin des années 1820, la plupart des paysagistes imitait le style d’Horatio McCulloch (1805-1867) qui avait connu un immense succès auprès des collectionneurs avec ses tableaux de paysages des comtés du nord-ouest. Les peintres, qui jusque-là avaient exécuté le plus souvent des vues des Lowlands, délaissèrent les comtés du sud pour les Highlands afin de pro- fiter de l’engouement collectif de leurs contemporains pour cette région 7. Si les mécènes écossais avaient commandé peu de tableaux de paysages, à partir des années 1830, ils firent l’acquisition d’un grand nombre de peintures représentant les Highlands. Ces paysages peints reprenaient le plus souvent les mêmes éléments puisqu’ils représentaient traditionnel- lement de vastes étendues montagneuses et brumeuses peuplées de cerfs ou de moutons, avec parfois des personnages vêtus d’un kilt et les ruines d’un château visibles en arrière-plan. Ces nombreux tableaux ont diffusé une image romantique et idéalisée de la région qui servit à ancrer dans les esprits la nouvelle identité écossaise qui fut construite à l’issue des guerres napoléoniennes. Walter Scott, les hommes de lettres et les peintres élabo- rèrent une identité binationale à la fois écossaise et britannique dont l’une des particularités fut d’assimiler l’ensemble de l’Écosse aux Highlands afin d’insister sur la spécificité culturelle de l’Écosse et sur le fait que celle-ci était un partenaire égal à l’Angleterre au sein de la Grande-Bretagne 8. Lorsque les Glasgow Boys commencèrent à peindre, les membres de la Royal Scottish Academy acceptèrent difficilement d’exposer des tableaux non conformes aux traditions établies par Wilkie et McCulloch. Quelques années avant les peintres de Glasgow, Sir George Reid (1841-1913) avait déjà eu à faire face à l’hostilité des académiciens qui à l’occasion d’une exposition n’avaient pas hésité à apporter quelques retouches à l’une de ses toiles afin de la rendre, selon eux, plus acceptable 9. Les académiciens
7. Les Highlands devinrent une destination des plus touristiques notamment en raison de l’en- gouement que suscitèrent la publication des poèmes d’Ossian de James Macpherson durant les années 1760, puis les œuvres de Walter Scott parues au début du xixe siècle. 8. Plusieurs ouvrages se sont intéressés à la définition de l’identité écossaise au début xixe siècle. Entre autres, Devine et Pittock sont revenus en détail sur le contexte dans lequel l’identité pro- unioniste fut construite. Voir Devine (1999) et Pittock (2001). 9. Ainsi que l’explique le professeur John Morrison : « Reid had exhibited Spynie Palace and Loch at the RSA, Horatio McCulloch, the chief exponent of Scottish romantic landscape in the period, altered the younger
122 | le thème du travail agricole dans les tableaux des glasgow boys avaient une prédilection pour les vues des Highlands et, ainsi que l’a pré- cisé l’historien de l’art John Morrison, ils estimaient que les paysagistes qui ne s’attachaient pas à la représentation de ces montagnes reniaient non seulement les traditions artistiques nationales, mais remettaient aussi en question l’identité culturelle de l’Écosse 10. Les académiciens n’approu- vaient pas non plus les jeunes peintres qui prenaient pour modèles les artistes de l’Europe continentale ou qui allaient étudier à l’étranger plutôt que d’être formés à la Royal Scottish Academy ou dans l’atelier d’un peintre écossais (Morrison, 2003, p. 156). Les relations des Glasgow Boys avec leurs collègues de la Royal Scottish Academy furent d’autant plus tendues que les jeunes artistes critiquaient ouvertement les académiciens qu’ils surnommaient les « gluepots » (Bill- cliffe, 2002, p. 30) en raison de leur utilisation excessive d’un vernis à base de bitume qui servait à donner à leurs tableaux un aspect de patine naturelle. Ils leur reprochaient aussi de ne pas peindre en plein air et de ne pas représenter fidèlement les paysages et les habitants de l’Écosse 11. Ils n’appréciaient pas non plus la sentimentalité mièvre qui caractérisait la peinture de genre. Avec leurs tableaux ayant pour thème des ouvriers agricoles au tra- vail, les Glasgow Boys avaient pour ambition de représenter fidèlement l’Écosse contemporaine. L’Écosse était alors le deuxième pays le plus industrialisé d’Europe et de plus en plus d’Écossais allaient vivre dans les zones urbaines. Néanmoins, les zones rurales des Lowlands n’en étaient pas pour autant désertifiées à la fin du xixe siècle, ainsi que l’ont rappelé Devine et Campbell : [Even if] the experience of rural society in the later nineteenth century concerned a dimin- ishing proportion of the people of Scotland […] it was still the way of life found in a large part of the country. (« The Rural Experience », dans Fraser & Morris, 1990, p. 46) À l’instar des peintres naturalistes français qu’ils avaient côtoyés, ils s’étaient donné pour objectif de peindre en plein air l’homme contem- porain sans apprêt ni idéalisation alors qu’il était occupé à des activités ordinaires. artist’s work as it hung in the exhibition. His assumption that Reid was attempting to join the ranks of romanticists and therefore that he would benefit from any such alteration was unchallenged by the RSA establishment. » (2003, p. 149) 10. Morrison affirme que : « The nineteenth-century creation of a Highland identity for the whole country was internalised by Scots. […] Resistance to Highlandism was certainly viewed in artistic circles as a conscious attack on the entire underpinning of national cultural identity. » (2003, p. 147) 11. Selon Billcliffe, les Glasgow Boys estimaient que les paysages des peintres écossais « were all the- atrical backcloths, survivals from an earlier age, painted without capturing the true value of the landscape, which could as much have been Switzerland as Scotland » (2002, p. 27).
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Les Glasgow Boys ne furent pas les premiers peintres écossais à prendre pour thème le travail puisque déjà, à la fin du xviiie siècle, David Allan (1744-1796) avait réalisé une série de dessins consacrés aux différents corps de métiers présents dans les villes écossaises 12. Au cours des années 1860 et 1870, George Reid et George Paul Chalmers (1833-1878) avaient peint plusieurs tableaux représentant des ouvriers agricoles écossais 13. De prime abord, le choix du thème du travail agricole peut paraître sur- prenant pour des peintres de Glasgow, alors la deuxième plus grande agglomération de Grande-Bretagne et l’un des principaux centres indus- triels de l’Europe occidentale. Le travail industriel n’a cependant pas inspiré les Glasgow Boys, à l’exception de Lavery qui a célébré la prospé- rité de l’industrie navale de la ville dans Shipbuilding on the Clyde, peinture murale ornant la Glasgow City Chambers. Pour mieux comprendre cet intérêt pour la représentation du travail agricole, il convient de prendre en compte le contexte international. À la fin du xixe siècle, un grand nombre de peintres anglais et de l’Europe continentale ont peint des scènes paysannes. Les premiers ta- bleaux des Glasgow Boys s’inscrivent dans le mouvement naturaliste, qui apparut tout d’abord en France avant de dominer brièvement l’art euro- péen durant les années 1880 et 1890. Ce fut leur contact avec les natu- ralistes français lors de leur formation dans les ateliers parisiens et leur séjour dans la colonie d’artistes à Grez-sur-Loing qui incitèrent les Glasgow Boys à puiser leurs motifs dans les communautés villageoises. En France, à partir des années 1850, les peintres tels Millet, Breton et Léon Augustin Lhermitte (1844-1925) avaient suivi l’exemple de Gustave Courbet (1819- 1877) et s’étaient attachés à peindre la vie quotidienne des paysans. Cet intérêt fut perpétué par Jules Bastien-Lepage et les jeunes naturalistes, qui apparurent sur la scène artistique vers la fin des années 1870. De retour en Écosse, les Glasgow Boys pouvaient suivre le développement de l’art français puisqu’ils avaient la possibilité de voir les œuvres des natu- ralistes dans les galeries des marchands d’art de Glasgow, notamment celles d’Alexander Reid (1854-1928) et de Craibe Angus (1830-1899), ainsi qu’à l’occasion des expositions du Glasgow Institute. À défaut d’être appréciés par les membres de la Royal Scottish Academy, les collec- tionneurs de Glasgow admiraient les œuvres des naturalistes français et avaient fait l’acquisition de plusieurs de leurs tableaux qu’ils prêtaient
12. Ces dessins sont désormais conservés à la National Gallery of Scotland. Voir notamment David Allan, An Edinburgh Fireman, D. 400, National Gallery of Scotland, Édimbourg ; David Allan, Two Edinburgh Chimney Sweeps, D. 399, National Gallery of Scotland, Édimbourg. 13. En 1873, George Paul Chalmers peignit The End of the Harvest (collection particulière). Trois ans auparavant, Reid avait réalisé The Peat Gatherers (localisation inconnue).
124 | le thème du travail agricole dans les tableaux des glasgow boys au Glasgow Institute. L’intérêt des amateurs pour les scènes paysannes explique aussi que les Glasgow Boys aient choisi de peindre les ouvriers agricoles des Lowlands.
Les tableaux des Glasgow Boys représentant les ouvriers agricoles des Lowlands se démarquèrent des productions artistiques écossaises contem- poraines en raison de leur thème, mais aussi de leur style. Les toiles des peintres de scène de genre se caractérisaient par leur réalisme mimé- tique : ainsi, dans le tableau de Thomas Faed (1826-1900) intitulé From Hand to Mouth – He Was One of the Few Who Would Not Beg, tout dans la composition est peint avec minutie ce qui contraste avec les tableaux paysans des Glasgow Boys, tel Noon de George Henry qui juxtapose des parties rapidement brossées et des détails finement rendus. La peinture naturaliste des Glasgow Boys reposant sur des phénomènes de la vision était inspirée de celle de Jules Bastien-Lepage. Cet artiste jouissait d’une renommée considérable en Europe occidentale et surtout en Grande- Bretagne où il séjourna à plusieurs reprises 14. Seul Lavery put rencontrer Bastien-Lepage avant le décès de ce dernier en 1884, mais l’ensemble des Glasgow Boys lui vouait une grande admiration. Il suffit de comparer leurs tableaux paysans avec les toiles du maître français pour comprendre à quel point ils furent influencés par Bastien-Lepage. Face aux peintures académique et romantique qui prévalaient en Écosse, les premiers ta- bleaux des Glasgow Boys ont ainsi ouvert une nouvelle voie, celle d’une peinture naturaliste alliant la précision du dessin académique à la liberté de la touche et à l’apport du plein air sur la lumière et la couleur emprun- tés à l’impressionnisme 15. Cet intérêt pour la couleur et l’influence de l’art français marqua profondément les générations suivantes de peintres écossais et plus précisément le groupe des Colourists. En dépit de leurs affinités stylistiques et thématiques avec les œuvres des naturalistes français, les scènes de la vie paysanne écossaise peintes par les Glasgow Boys représentent une réalité propre à la majeure partie des zones rurales des Lowlands et évoquent quelques-unes des principales caractéristiques du travail agricole dans la région à la fin du xixe siècle. Durant les années 1880, les peintres de l’école de Glasgow se sont souvent retrouvés pour peindre dans les villages de Cockburnspath, dans le comté de Berwick, et de Kirkcudbright, dans le comté de Dumfries et Galloway,
14. Bastien-Lepage alla à quatre reprises en Grande-Bretagne. Il se rendit à Londres pour la pre- mière fois en 1879 afin de réaliser le portrait du Prince de Galles. Il retourna dans cette ville en 1880, en 1881 et en 1882. 15. Au même moment, William McTaggart (1835-1910) peignait lui aussi des tableaux allant à l’encontre de la peinture académique. Ces toiles représentant des paysages de la côte ouest de l’Écosse ont souvent été comparées aux œuvres des peintres impressionnistes.
| 125 études écossaises 18 où ils furent à l’origine de deux colonies d’artistes. Afin de peindre les tableaux les plus réalistes et les plus représentatifs possibles des ouvriers agricoles des Lowlands, Guthrie alla même jusqu’à s’installer pendant plusieurs années à Cockburnspath où il reçut régulièrement la visite de Walton, Crawhall, Melville, Henry et Whitelaw Hamilton (1860-1930). Ce fut dans le village de Kirkcudbright où Hornel avait son atelier, que celui-ci allait peindre en plein air en compagnie de Henry et de Guthrie. Si l’on considère l’ensemble des tableaux que les Glasgow Boys ont consacré au travail agricole, on peut constater que deux thèmes sont récurrents : ils ont réalisé un grand nombre de toiles dédiées aux travaux des champs et ont aussi souvent peint des paysans travaillant dans leur potager. Chacune de ces œuvres peut être associée aux Lowlands et rap- pelle la spécificité de l’agriculture écossaise à cette époque. Certains titres de tableaux tels Berwickshire Fieldworkers et In the Town Crofts, Kirkcudbright, de même que quelques éléments de la composition, tels le couvre-chef 16 que portent les ouvrières agricoles dans le premier tableau et la silhouette distinctive de l’église de Kirkcudbright dans la seconde toile, permettent d’associer les scènes représentées à un lieu précis. Le tableau de Guthrie intitulé A Hind’s Daughter ne fait pas référence à un comté ou à un village, mais le terme « hind » évoque une des caractéristiques de l’agriculture des Lowlands et rappelle que dans ces comtés, le travail agricole reposait sur des traditions perpétuées de génération en génération depuis des siècles. Dans les comtés du sud de l’Écosse, l’agriculture avait beaucoup évolué depuis la fin du xviiie siècle, elle s’était modernisée mais préservait encore de nombreuses traditions. Au moment où les Glasgow Boys réalisèrent leur série de tableaux paysans, dans certains comtés, les ouvriers agricoles continuaient à travailler en famille comme leurs ancêtres l’avaient fait et, suivant la coutume, les filles d’une certaine catégorie d’ouvriers étaient encore destinées à travailler dans les champs. Dans A Hind’s Daughter Guthrie a choisi de représenter la fille d’un ouvrier agricole appartenant à la catégorie des « hinds ». Dans les Lowlands, on distinguait alors trois groupes d’ouvriers agricoles : il y avait les ouvriers recrutés à la journée, les ouvriers célibataires qui avaient un contrat de plusieurs mois et les ouvriers mariés, appelés les « hinds », vivant avec leur famille dans une ferme qu’ils occupaient gratuitement si en échange ils trouvaient une femme ou une jeune fille prête à participer aux travaux des champs durant les périodes de récoltes 17. Le plus souvent, c’était une des filles de l’ou-
16. Le couvre-chef que portent les ouvrières agricoles dans le tableau de Berwickshire Fieldworkers était connu sous le nom de ugly et était traditionnellement porté par les femmes du comté de Berwick. 17. Alastair Orr a précisé : « Farm servants as a group consisted broadly of three subdivisions: married plough- men (called ‘hinds’ in the Lothians’) living in a cottage attached to the farm; unmarried ploughmen boarded in the
126 | le thème du travail agricole dans les tableaux des glasgow boys vrier agricole, comme celle figurant dans le tableau de Guthrie, qui tra- vaillait à cette occasion. Ce système était en vigueur depuis des siècles en Écosse mais, au moment où Guthrie peignit A Hind’s Daughter cette pratique avait déjà fait l’objet de critiques et commençait à disparaître. Néanmoins, jusqu’à la Première Guerre mondiale, cette tradition resta ancrée dans les familles travaillant dans les comtés de Berwick et de l’East Lothian, ainsi que l’a rappelé Alastair Orr (dans Devine, 1984, p. 33). Lorsque l’on observe les tableaux paysans des Glasgow Boys on re- marque que les personnages travaillant dans les champs ou dans les pota- gers sont majoritairement des femmes ou des jeunes filles. Dans Berwick- shire Fieldworkers de Walton, les cinq personnages représentés aux champs sont des femmes, tandis que dans Hop-Pickers Returning, parmi les quatre personnages peints par Mann, figurent deux jeunes femmes et une fillette. Ceci reflète une autre tradition écossaise et une des principales caracté- ristiques du travail agricole dans les Lowlands. Durant les années 1870, les femmes constituaient près de 26 % de la main d’œuvre agricole de cette région et, ainsi que l’a précisé Orr, dans certains comtés, elles repré- sentaient parfois jusqu’à 46 % des ouvriers agricoles (dans Devine, 1984, p. 34). Entre 1851 et 1911, le nombre de femmes travaillant dans l’agri- culture augmenta de plus de 30 %, alors qu’en Angleterre leur nombre ne cessa de décliner. Plusieurs facteurs permettent d’expliquer ce phé- nomène. Tout d’abord, les femmes avaient toujours occupé une place importante dans l’agriculture de la région, certaines tâches telles la traite et la fabrication de fromages leur étaient traditionnellement réservées dans les comtés du sud-ouest. Dans ceux du sud-est, la spécialisation dans la culture du navet et de la pomme de terre ne fit qu’accroître la main d’œuvre féminine puisque pour ce type de récolte les fermiers esti- maient que les femmes étaient plus adaptées (Orr, dans Devine, 1984, p. 43). Ensuite, le recrutement des femmes présentait un intérêt finan- cier, leur salaire étant bien moins élevé que celui des hommes. Enfin, beaucoup d’hommes délaissèrent le travail de la terre dès lors que les industries lourdes commencèrent à se développer et pour pallier le départ des hommes, un plus grand nombre de femmes fut recruté. Même si un certain nombre d’entre elles quittèrent les zones rurales pour aller vivre en ville et travailler dans l’industrie, il n’y eut pas de pénurie de main d’œuvre féminine jusqu’à la fin du xixe siècle puisque des femmes originaires des Highlands ou d’Irlande venaient spécialement dans les zones rurales des Lowlands pour trouver du travail. Dans les fermes, elles
farmer’s house, and domestic servants who were usually women. » (« Farm Servants and Farm Labour in the Forth Valley and South-East Lowlands », dans Devine, 1984, p. 30)
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étaient embauchées pour effectuer tous types de travaux à l’exception des tâches nécessitant l’utilisation des chevaux, celles-ci étant réservées aux hommes 18. Cette réalité propre aux Lowlands est apparente dans les œuvres des Glasgow Boys. Entre autres, dans leurs tableaux intitulés Noon, A Cottar’s Garden, Hop-Pickers Returning et Potato Planting on voit des femmes ou des jeunes filles alors qu’elles sont occupées à faire paître le bétail, à récolter des légumes, à cueillir du houblon et à planter des pommes de terre ; elles sont aussi représentées en train de sarcler, de biner et de moissonner. Ce qui ressort de leurs œuvres c’est avant tout que l’ensemble des habitants des communautés rurales participait aux travaux agricoles : les peintres de Glasgow ont représenté beaucoup d’ouvrières, mais pas seulement puisqu’ils ont également peint des hommes et des enfants dans les champs. Dès lors qu’ils étaient en âge de travailler, les enfants se voyaient attribuer des tâches telles que surveiller un troupeau de vaches comme on peut le constater dans le tableau de Henry intitulé Noon. Le vieil homme représenté par Henry dans The Hedgecutter rappelle aussi que même les personnes d’un âge avancé continuaient à travailler dans les champs. Si l’on considère l’ensemble des tableaux que les Glasgow Boys ont consacré à leurs compatriotes vivant dans les communautés agricoles des Lowlands, on remarque que ces derniers sont le plus souvent repré- sentés en plein labeur, suggérant ainsi que leur vie était centrée sur le travail et qu’il y avait peu de place pour d’autres activités. Ils peignirent quelques tableaux traitant d’autres sujets, mais ceux-ci furent peu nom- breux et concernèrent surtout les enfants. Les habitants des zones rurales sont donc présentés comme étant toute leur vie des travailleurs acharnés, restés attachés aux traditions. Les peintres de Glasgow ont aussi montré que ce travail assidu profitait à l’ensemble des habitants de la commu- nauté. Les personnages représentés dans leurs scènes champêtres portent des vêtements en bon état, ils ne semblent pas souffrir de la faim et, même si leurs tâches étaient dures et intenses, ils ne paraissent pas non plus épuisés. Ceci démarque les tableaux des Glasgow Boys de ceux de leurs collègues français qui, dans leurs toiles, ont souvent dénoncé les condi- tions de travail 19. À la fin du xixe siècle, dans les Lowlands, les ouvriers agricoles travaillaient dans des conditions difficiles, les femmes pouvaient avoir des journées de seize heures, pour des salaires souvent modiques.
18. Selon Devine : « [Women’s duties] were to perform all the ‘normal operations’ of the fields and those con- cerned with the use of ‘smaller implements’ not worked by horses. » (1984, « Women Workers, 1850–1914 », p. 98-99). 19. Déjà les peintres réalistes français avaient critiqué à travers leurs toiles le système économique contemporain. Suivant l’exemple de Gustave Courbet (1819-1877), qui ne cachait pas son engage- ment politique, les réalistes ont notamment dénoncé les conditions de travail et de vie des ouvriers.
128 | le thème du travail agricole dans les tableaux des glasgow boys
Pourtant, les peintres suggèrent que, grâce à leur labeur, les paysans étaient en mesure de subvenir aux besoins de leur famille. Dans A Hind’s Daughter, Guthrie a peint une fillette dans le potager que le propriétaire foncier avait attribué à son père pour son utilisation personnelle et, en arrière-plan, il est possible de distinguer la maison que la famille de la fillette pouvait occuper en échange de leur travail dans les champs. Les enfants des ouvriers agricoles figurant dans les œuvres des Glasgow Boys n’ont rien en commun avec ceux vêtus de haillons représentés dans les tableaux intitulés Pas mèche et Pauvre fauvette, peints par Bastien-Lepage lorsqu’il séjournait dans son village natal de Damvillers, dans la Meuse. Les toiles des Glasgow Boys ne manifestent pas d’engagement politique de la part des artistes ; ces derniers célèbrent dans leurs tableaux le travail intensif de leurs compatriotes qui contribuait à la renommée et à la pros- périté de l’agriculture écossaise 20. Ces tableaux proposent donc une vision des Écossais très différente de celle véhiculée par les œuvres d’un peintre tel que Kenneth Macleay (1802-1878). Cet aquarelliste victorien fut très populaire pour ses por- traits représentant des habitants des Highlands vêtus d’un kilt. Dans ses œuvres, les modèles incarnent force, fierté et esprit guerrier, des qualités qui étaient alors attribuées à l’ensemble des Écossais, ainsi que l’a rappelé Pittock dans son ouvrage intitulé Scottish Nationality 21. Plusieurs Glasgow Boys peignirent également des paysages et, contrairement à leurs contem- porains écossais, ils préférèrent représenter des vues des Lowlands. Ces paysages et les scènes rurales des peintres de Glasgow peuvent être per- çus comme une alternative à la manière dont les peintres représentaient l’Écosse depuis plus d’un demi-siècle.
Avec leur série de tableaux consacrés au monde rural des Lowlands, les peintres de l’école de Glasgow connurent un immense succès auprès des collectionneurs et des critiques en Grande-Bretagne et sur le conti- nent européen. Même les membres de la Royal Scottish Academy recon- nurent leur talent et, en 1888, Guthrie fut le premier Glasgow Boy à être élu membre associé de cette institution. Par la suite, les principaux représen- tants de l’école de Glasgow devinrent académiciens et, en 1902, Guthrie en fut même élu président.
20. Devine a noté que l’agriculture écossaise a elle aussi ressenti la crise agraire qui frappa la Grande-Bretagne à partir des années 1870, mais il a précisé que : « Scottish farm workers were not seri- ously affected by the decline in agricultural prices between 1870 and 1900. On the contrary, over the period as a whole, real incomes rose for many workers. » (1984, p. 246). 21. Pittock a écrit : « The idea of the primitive, picturesque Scot as a giant was one […] found in many Vic- torian postcards and popular depictions of vast and hairy Scots soldiers. […] Emphasis was repeatedly put on the ‘strong’, ‘hardy’, ‘sturdy’ and ‘robust’ qualities of Scots. » (2001, p. 86)
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Les tableaux représentant les ouvriers agricoles furent à l’origine d’une révolution esthétique dans la peinture écossaise et ont marqué d’une forte empreinte la création des peintres de la première moitié du xxe siècle. Ces œuvres constituent également un précieux témoignage des pratiques agricoles dans les Lowlands à la fin du xixe siècle. Avec leurs scènes pay- sannes, les Glasgow Boys ont proposé une représentation de l’Écosse et des Écossais très différente de l’image véhiculée par les tableaux des peintres depuis les années 1820. Toutefois leur vision ne fut pas plus représenta- tive de l’ensemble du pays puisque leurs œuvres montrent uniquement la vie de leurs contemporains dans les zones rurales des comtés du sud et n’évoquent pas les conditions difficiles. Les Glasgow Boys ont célébré le labeur acharné de leurs compatriotes tout au long de leur existence et ont rendu plus particulièrement hommage à la participation des femmes. Ces tableaux suggèrent que la qualité principale des Écossais était leur tempérament travailleur ; le travail est présenté comme une valeur tradi- tionnelle et fondamentale de la société rurale écossaise.
Références bibliographiques
Ouvrages Billcliffe Roger, 2002, The Glasgow Boys. The Glasgow School of Painting 1875–1895, Londres, John Murray. — (éd.), 2010, Pioneering Painters: The Glasgow Boys 1880–1900, Glasgow, Glasgow Museums. Caw James, 1908, Scottish Painting Past and Present, 1620–1908, Édimbourg, Jack. Devine Thomas Martin, 1999, The Scottish Nation, 1700–2000, Londres, Penguin Books. — (éd.), 1984, Farm Servants and Labour in Lowland Scotland, 1770–1914, Édimbourg, John Donald Publishers. Fraser William Hamish & Morris R. J. (éds), 1990, People and Society in Scotland. Volume 2 : 1830–1914, Édimbourg, John Donald Publishers. Hardie William, 1990, Scottish Painting, 1837–1939, Londres, Studio Vista. Lemoine Serge & Lobstein Dominique, 2007, Jules Bastien-Lepage (1848- 1884), Paris, Musée d’Orsay. Macmillan Duncan, 2000, Scottish Art, 1460–2000, Édimbourg, Mains- tream. Martin David, 1897, The Glasgow School of Painting, Londres, Bell. McConkey Kenneth, 2010, John Lavery a Painter and His World, Édim- bourg, Atelier Books.
130 | le thème du travail agricole dans les tableaux des glasgow boys
Morrison John, 2003, Painting the Nation. Identity and Nationalism in Scot- tish Painting, 1800–1920, Édimbourg, Edinburgh University Press. Pittock Murray, 2001, Scottish Nationality, Basingstoke, Palgrave. Smout Thomas Christopher, 1972, A History of the Scottish People 1560– 1830, Grande-Bretagne, Fontana. Walsh Jean & Stevenson Hugh, 2010, Introducing the Glasgow Boys, Glas- gow, Glasgow Museums.
Tableaux cités Quelques-uns des tableaux cités dans cet article peuvent être consultés sur les sites internet indiqués.
Bastien-Lepage Jules, Pauvre Fauvette, 1881, Glasgow Art Gallery and Museum, Glasgow. Disponible sur
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Walton Edward Arthur, Berwickshire Fieldworkers, 1884, Tate Britain, Londres. Disponible sur
132 | Jeremy Tranmer Université de Lorraine
Popular Music and Left-Wing Scottishness
Popular music, that is “commercially mass produced music for a mass market […] including the variety of genres variously subsumed by terms such as rock’n’roll, rock, pop, dance, hip-hop, and R&B” (Shuker, 2001, p. x), has often been downgraded in accounts of political developments in Scotland over the past thirty years. For example, in The Scottish Nation 1700–2000, Tom Devine merely states: Rock bands like Deacon Blue, the Pretenders and Runrig were emphatically Scottish in style but nevertheless were able to convey their music to a much wider overseas audience. Runrig celebrated Gaelic culture in particular and Scottishness in general to a younger generation of Scots increasingly confi- dent in their own national identity. (2000, p. 608) Cairns Craig has only mentioned it in passing, although he has sug- gested that, following the failure of the 1979 referendum on devolu- tion, the energy previously put into political activity was channeled into culture (Craig, 1999, p. 84). According to him, the consequent cultural vitality “gave Scottish people the sense of confidence in themselves and in their own identity that produced the political changes we are now going through” (ibid., p. 86). As an overall explanation of the role of culture in recent developments, this theory is quite attractive. However, the limited interest showed by Devine, Craig and others in popular music is unfor- tunate and is perhaps symptomatic of a widespread tendency to view it as an inferior form of cultural expression. This article will not judge the artistic quality of the work produced by Scottish musicians in the 1980s, but it will be based on the assumption that popular music shapes the way many people experience and interpret the world around them, and is therefore of cultural, social and political significance. It will look in detail at how popular music and musicians in the 1980s expressed a sense of Scottishness, suggesting that this has to be seen in the con- text of opposition to Margaret Thatcher’s Conservative governments, as in Scottish popular music at this time national sentiment and anti- Thatcherism frequently went hand in hand. Songs by the groups Runrig
| 133 études écossaises 18 and the Proclaimers will be examined, as well as the political actions of bands such as Deacon Blue. It will be argued that the close relationship between popular music and politics in the very late 1980s and early 1990s is a singularly Scottish phenomenon. Throughout the 1980s, a significant minority of British musicians engaged actively with politics. Most were openly hostile to the Thatcher governments and expressed their feelings in their music. The Specials were critical of youth unemployment in “Ghost Town”, Elvis Costello highlighted the consequences of the Falklands War in “Shipbuilding”, and the Beat demanded the Prime Minister’s resignation in “Stand down, Margaret”. Some musicians such as Billy Bragg and Paul Weller of the Style Council (and formerly of the Jam) gave moral and financial support to opposition groups. Hundreds of benefit concerts were organised to support striking miners during the conflict of 1984–85. Musicians also gave their political opinions in interviews published in the New Musical Express and other newspapers and fanzines. This public role was legit- imised by the success of humanitarian ventures, such as Band Aid and Live Aid which aimed to raise money to alleviate starvation in Ethiopia. As a consequence, many musicians came to believe that they could mo- bilise young people and be a force for change. According to the dominant narrative of this period, the year 1987 was a turning point in the rela- tionship between music and politics (Harris, 2003, p. 153; Carlet, 2004, p. 101). Numerous well-known musicians, including Bragg and Weller, participated in the Labour Party’s election campaign of that year under the banner of Red Wedge. Labour lost the election, leading to wide- spread disillusionment among musicians and a decline in politico-musical activity. “[T]he ideological ferocity of the Thatcher period was giving way to an altogether more apolitical climate” (Harris, 2003, p. 153) with the rise of the “Madchester” scene of the late 1980s, spearheaded by the Stone Roses, the Happy Mondays and the Inspiral Carpets and based on ecstasy and dance music. Moreover, the replacement of Margaret Thatcher as prime minister in November 1990 by the less aggressive and divisive John Major deprived musicians of an obvious target for their ire. This version of events certainly has some validity, but it is arguably a very anglocentric vision since musicians in Scotland continued to play a prominent role in politics after 1987. Scottish musicians, like their English and Welsh counterparts, wrote songs damning aspects of Margaret Thatcher’s policies and their con- sequences for ordinary people. 1 However, the reaction of many Scot- tish musicians was clearly rooted in a sense of Scottishness. The use of
1. No songs were written openly praising the Prime Minister and her policies.
134 | popular music and left-wing scottishness national symbolism in popular music was not something entirely new. In the 1970s, one of the most commercially successful Scottish bands was the Bay City Rollers, whose concerts throughout the United Kingdom were attended by thousands of teenage girls. The members of the band and their fans were also famous for sewing tartan fabric onto their clothes (Percival, 2010, pp. 200–2). “Rollermania” was relatively short-lived, and by the late 1970s the group’s popularity had waned. The Glasgow-based post-punk label Postcard Records, which was created in 1979 and wound up in 1981, used tartan imagery in its artwork. The sleeves of singles by groups on the Postcard Label such as Orange Juice, Aztec Camera, and Joseph K (which the label referred to collectively as “The Sound of Young Scotland”) featured tartan patterns. This emphasis on the national ori- gins of the label was significant since it was “the first genuinely innova- tive and successful independent label in Scotland—a label that would work to establish a new perception of music in Scotland for an industry largely focused in London” (Percival, 2010, p. 204). In the early 1980s, the punk group the Skids split up, their guitarist Stuart Adamson forming Big Country. The latter pioneered a new sound based on electric guitars imitating bagpipes. This could be heard, for example, in the introduction to their 1983 single “Fields of Fire (400 Miles)” or on the single “In a Big Country” released in the same year. This distinctive sound became the group’s trademark. These groups were inspired by what historians such as Eric Hobsbawm and Hugh Trevor-Roper termed “invented traditions”, in other words elements of national life which were widely assumed to have existed for centuries or since time immemorial but had in fact been adopted at a particular moment of history, often a time of change or crisis. In this case, tartan and bagpipes belonged to the Highlands of Scotland and were adopted as symbols by the whole of Scotland during the nineteenth century (Trevor-Roper, 1997, pp. 15–42). Their exact origins were later forgotten by most people, who simply saw them as national traditions. The Bay City Rollers, Postcard Records and Big Country thus used ele- ments which were clearly recognised, both in Scotland and elsewhere, as being Scottish and had been national symbols for over a century. Interest- ingly, later in the 1980s, groups adopted different methods to signal their national identity, using references both to the past and the present. The songs “Alba” by Runrig and “Letter from America” by the Proclaimers illustrate this. The group Runrig was founded in the mid-1970s. The original mem- bers were born on the Isle of Skye and spoke Gaelic. The name of the band refers to a Scottish form of land ownership which had slowly died out between the eighteenth century and the very early twentieth century.
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Their first album, entitled Play Gaelic, was released in 1978 and only con- tained songs in that language, making it the first ever album recorded solely in Gaelic. 2 Although their following albums contained songs in English, they have continued to record a significant number of Gaelic songs. The band has broached many subjects in its songs, but the vast majority have a direct link with the Western Isles or with Scotland in general, as is suggested by the titles of two of their albums—The Highland Connection and The Cutter and the Clan. The subjects of their songs include the militarisation of the Hebrides (“Tir an airm”) at a time when plans were afoot to lengthen Stornaway airport for NATO bombers (Morton, 1991, p. 83), the education given to young inhabitants of the Western Isles (“Fichead Bliadhna”), the impact of unemployment in the High- lands (“The Work Song”) and industrial decline in Scotland (“Raven- scraig”). Even love songs such as “Màiri” are set on the Isle of Skye. One of their most popular songs is their cover version of “Loch Lomond”, which was later voted as Scotland’s greatest song (Reisenleitner, 2014, p. 274). More general songs deal with war (“Protect and Survive”) and environmental issues (“Our Earth Was Once Green”), for example. The music to which the lyrics are set is relatively varied. Some of the band’s earlier work was clearly influenced by Scottish dance music and featured an accordion and a violin. Bagpipes are present in some songs, along with drums which sound similar to those of a marching band. Consequently, it is somewhat reductive to describe the group simply as a “standard guitar and drums rock band” producing music with a “Celtic feel to it” (Craig, 1997, p. 86). The group quickly established a cult following in the late 1970s, became full-time musicians in 1982 and had achieved success throughout Scotland by the mid-1980s. Despite line-up changes (only the brothers Rory and Callum Macdonald remain from the original mem- bers), the group has continued to record and perform, celebrating its fortieth anniversary in 2013. Politically, the members of Runrig described themselves in the 1980s as being loosely socialist and nationalist but admitted that differences in emphasis existed between them (Morton, 1991, p. 168). The political convictions of the group could be heard in songs such as “Alba”, which was released as a single in 1987 and was also on the album The Cutter and the Clan of the same year. The song is interesting for two reasons. Firstly, it is sung in Gaelic, a language spoken by less than 2% of the Scottish population. Singing in Gaelic was in itself a political act in the broadest sense of the word since it implied defending a language whose
2. Runrig inspired groups such as Oi Polloi, The Thing Upstairs and Mill a h-Uile Rud to record and perform in Gaelic. They have not, however, encountered the same commercial success as Runrig.
136 | popular music and left-wing scottishness very existence was under threat from English and Scots and which was increasingly confined to the Western Isles. Runrig showed that it was a living language with contemporary relevance. However, as a result of its minority status, most of those who listened to it, whether on a record or a cassette at home or live at a concert, were unable to understand any of the lyrics, except the title (meaning Scotland), which is also the chorus and is therefore repeated several times. They would have had to read the English version of the lyrics which was printed on the album sleeve. The song might have been potentially divisive, creating a schism between Gaelic-speakers and others, particularly as there is no real tradition in British popular culture of songs in other languages than English being successful. The use of Gaelic could therefore have been a barrier. Yet this was not the case. Gaelic may be a minor feature of Scottish nationalism, but it is something which is specifically Scottish, giving it a certain sym- bolic significance. The live performance by Runrig of Gaelic songs in Scotland added a national dimension of shared heritage to the sense of unity created during concerts and virtually when people listened to the songs at home. Moreover, the title of the song suggests that it is of interest to all Scottish people, irrespective of their origins and culture. Another interesting point about “Alba” is the vision of Scotland cre- ated by the lyrics. The first verse describes landscapes of Scotland (“I see Scotland of the high mountains / And the empty acres / Flying low across the moorland lochs / the forest and the glens”), while the second concentrates on the “wounding and hollow sight / Here as we reach the end of the century”, mentioning “the beautiful soil of the people / Still in the hands of the few”, “the wheels of industry at a standstill / And the northern lands wasted”, and “the empty house in Edinburgh / Without authority or voice”. The song ends on a positive note as the narrator concludes “it is good for me to be here now / As I welcome the warmth / In this land that’s as exciting for me today / As it was the day I was born”. The lyrics present a positive vision of Scotland based on its phys- ical geography and criticism of inequitable land ownership, economic stagnation, and the absence of a parliament. Although the song does not directly name Margaret Thatcher, the phrase “the wheels of industry at a standstill” clearly refers to the consequences of her governments’ policies. In the political and economic context of 1987, this reference would not have gone unnoticed, particularly since in Scotland the Prime Minister was frequently held personally responsible for the nation’s economic diffi- culties (Stewart, 2009, p. 1). The 1980s saw heavy industry (such as coal, steel, and shipbuilding) and manufacturing rapidly contract with job losses not offset by expanding sectors such as high technology. As a result, levels of unemployment and poverty were higher than in other parts of Great
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Britain. The song thus combines national sentiment with contemporary left-wing political commentary. In 1987, the Proclaimers released “Letter from America”. The Pro- claimers are two identical twin brothers, Charlie and Craig Reid, who were born in Leith in 1962. They performed with punk bands in the late 1970s and early 1980s, founding the Proclaimers in 1983. Their music is heavily influenced by folk and country. Their first album was mainly acoustic, while on their following albums they were accompanied by a band. “Letter from America” was their first taste of commercial success, and it reached number three in the United Kingdom singles charts. Other hits in the following years include “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)” and “King of the Road”. Much of their music is clearly rooted in Scottish culture and geography as songs such as “The Joyful Kilmarnock Blues” and “Sunshine on Leith” suggest. The brothers are staunch supporters of the Scottish National Party (SNP) and have openly expressed their feelings in songs such as “Cap in Hand” (“But I can’t understand why we let someone else rule our land, cap in hand”) and “What do you do?” (“Pat votes the Scots way / Just like her mother / But South always takes all / Just like her brother” … “What do you do / When democracy fails you”), as well as in interviews (Wells, 1988, p. 27). The band continues to tour and record new material to this day and has been described as “arguably the most influential Scottish recording artists of all time” (Williamson, 2009, p. 56). A striking characteristic of the group, which is present on “Letter from America” as well as on their other recordings, is that they sing in a Scot- tish accent. This is highly unusual as most Scottish performers (and British artists in general) tend to adopt a mid-Atlantic accent. This had been challenged in the mid to late-1970s by punk, which encouraged singers to retain their original accents in order to create a certain authenticity and to distinguish themselves from American performers. High-profile punk singers such as Johnny Rotten of the Sex Pistols and Joe Strummer of the Clash sang with English accents and were imitated by others who were influenced by their stance. In the 1980s, Billy Bragg refused to drop his native southern-English accent, while Morrissey of the Smiths retained his Mancunian accent. However, it was more unusual for Scottish singers not to change accents, allowing the Proclaimers to appear original and innovative. This no doubt contributed to the appeal of “Letter from America” both in Scotland, where their approach was seen as a refusal to abandon part of their identity and was celebrated (Fulton, 2013), and in other parts of the United Kingdom, where it was simply a novel feature differentiating them from their contemporaries (Logan, 2007). The Pro- claimers also occasionally used Scots in their lyrics. For instance, the song
138 | popular music and left-wing scottishness
“I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)” contains the verb to haver (“And if I haver, hey, I know I’m gonna be / I’m gonna be the man who’s havering to you”), meaning to speak nonsense or to talk incoherently. The narrator of “Letter from America” wonders what happened to his compatriots who were forced to leave Scotland for North America as a result of the Highland Clearances of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries (“I’ve looked at the ocean / Tried hard to imagine / The way you felt the day you sailed / From Wester Ross to Nova Scotia”), before lamenting the impact of their departure on local communities (“Lewis no more / Skye no more / Lochaber no more / Sutherland no more”). The expression “Lochaber no more” had historical and cultural resonance. It was first used in the ballad “Farewell to Lochaber” written by the poet Allan Ramsay in 1724. It recounts the tale of a soldier leaving Scotland to fight in a distant land. The theme of exile was behind John Watson Nicol’s 1883 painting Lochaber No More in which a Highland couple could be seen on a ship with their belongings. 3 The painting expresses the feel- ings of loss and despair felt by the couple as they left their home land. The narrator of “Letter from America” then moves on to the need to save contemporary Scotland (“I wonder my blood / Will you ever return / To help us kick the life back to a dying mutual friend? / Do we not love her / I think we all tell you about”). The song ends with a list of towns which had recently experienced significant job losses (“Methil no more / Irvine no more / Bathgate no more / Linwood no more”), and is repeated several times. 4 It echoes the list of areas which had suffered due to the clearances and emigration, creating a clear connection between the past and the present. As in “Alba”, no direct reference is made to Margaret Thatcher. The link between suffering in the past and the present was also explicit on the sleeve of the single. The painting Lochaber No More is superimposed on a black and white photograph of an empty factory. It is quite clear that in terms of both form (accent) and content (historical and contemporary references), the song has a number of distinctly Scottish characteristics. Numerous sociologists and historians of rock music have noted that the meaning of a song is not to be found solely in its lyrics, since they can be received and interpreted in a multitude of different ways (Street, 1986, pp. 153–67). According to Rob Rosenthal and Richard Flacks,
3. The original painting is now part of Fleming Collection of Scottish art held in London and can be seen here:
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“[t]he lyrics that most affect a given listener may not necessarily convey the lyrical intent of the artist” (Rosenthal & Flacks, 2012, p. 110). They give the example of the song “Born in the USA”, which Bruce Spring- steen had intended as a criticism of the way the American government treated veterans of the Vietnam war. Its hook phrase “Born in the USA” was sufficiently vague to appeal to Ronald Reagan’s Republicans who used the song to signal their patriotism. Meaning is widely thought to result from interaction between the song, the performer and the audience, and depends on factors such as the overall sound of the song, how it is performed, and the appearance of the singer (Street, 2001, p. 248). Regarding “Alba” and “Letter from America”, the sound of both songs has unmistakably Scottish elements such as language and accent, which listeners cannot fail to hear. As for performance, Runrig frequently sang “Alba” at concerts during which Scottish flags were waved, suggesting that their fans were aware of the nationalist dimension of the group and approved of it. The video of the song, which contained English sub titles, was filmed outside the National Monument of Scotland on Calton Hill overlooking Edinburgh. 5 The distinctive building was modelled on the Greek Parthenon and was intended to commemorate the Scottish soldiers who had been killed during the Napoleonic Wars. The nearby Royal High School also had political significance since it had been touted as a possible home for a Scottish parliament in the run-up to the 1979 referendum on devolution. The video thus echoed the themes present in the lyrics. Moreover, as Runrig performed at a Red Wedge concert for Labour in Edinburgh in 1986, fans would have recognised the left- wing elements present in “Alba” and in their music in general. The Pro- claimers filmed a video for “Letter from America” which shows them singing and marching through a derelict factory. 6 They are accompanied and surrounded by a large number of ordinary people. The scene is reminiscent of a demonstration of people who have lost their jobs or members of a community whose very existence is under threat, as were those mentioned at the end of the lyrics of the song. It is interspersed with black and white pictures of poverty in the Highlands and emigra- tion, which contrast sharply with the colour image of a young girl repre- senting a resuscitated Scotland. The video thus illustrates the lyrics of the song in a relatively straightforward manner. Finally, the physical appear- ance of the members of both groups is noteworthy. Many successful male bands of the time, for example Duran Duran and Spandau Ballet, gave a
5. See
140 | popular music and left-wing scottishness great deal of importance to their appearance, wearing expensive clothes and sporting fashionable haircuts. Other male performers including the Housemartins (with whom the Proclaimers had toured in 1986) rejected this type of image and adopted a deliberately unpretentious look of jeans, cardigans and denim jackets. The Proclaimers were clearly part of this trend, as can be seen in the video of “Letter from America”. Runrig also rejected fashionable attire and wore clothes which were not ostentatious. In addition, neither the Proclaimers nor Runrig were known for having an extravagant lifestyle and appeared overall to be little different to the members of their audience. As a result of the combination of these fac- tors, it can be argued that “Alba” and “Letter from America” would have been seen as embodying a left-wing Scottishness, that is a sense of a dis- tinct national identity incorporating left-wing values. It is important to bear in mind that not all Scottish groups felt the need or urge to express national sentiment or to criticise, directly or indirectly, the Thatcher governments. This was the case of Altered Images, the Cocteau Twins, Fairground Attraction and Teenage Fan Club, while the Bluebells sang orthodox love songs in an American accent (for example, “Cath”). Furthermore, national questions were not always a priority for Scottish artists who took an active interest in political issues. For instance, Jimmy Somerville of Bronski Beat and later the Communards supported the Labour Party and was active in the struggle for gay rights, while Orange Juice and Aztec Camera played at benefit concerts for the miners. However, they were not vocal about the situation of their home nation. Yet it is striking that a significant number of Scottish artists were prepared to nail their colours to the mast, even after the Conservatives’ victory in the 1987 general election. As mentioned above, many English musicians lost interest in politics following Margaret Thatcher’s third successive vic- tory. In Scotland, this was not the case. This is not to suggest that Scottish musicians were fundamentally more left-wing or politically aware than their English counterparts. Didier Revest has pointed out that it is impor- tant to beware of representations of the Scottish as being further to the left than the English and to avoid making generalisations which ignore similarities between the two nations as well as differences within each nation (Revest, 2013, pp. 91–115). As mentioned above, for example, not all Scottish performers expressed their political opinions in public during the 1980s and 1990s. They cannot, therefore, be seen as a homogeneous social group. Nevertheless, it is striking that Billy Bragg is one of the few relatively well-known English musicians to have taken an active interest in politics following Margaret Thatcher’s third election victory, whereas many performers who were household names in Scotland continued to do so. This situation can partly be explained by the fact that Red Wedge
| 141 études écossaises 18 was mainly an English phenomenon. It had been founded to mobilise young people in support of Labour and had organised a tour of marginal constituencies during the election campaign. Few concerts were held in Scotland since the position of the Labour Party was much stronger there than in England (although some Scottish musicians including Jimmy Somerville and Lloyd Cole participated in Red Wedge concerts in Eng- land). Moreover, although Labour’s overall results were disappointing, they actually improved considerably more in Scotland than in the rest of Great Britain. Anti-Thatcher musicians in Scotland were in synch with a greater number of their compatriots than their comrades in England. Consequently, disillusionment and demobilisation were not as great as in England. In addition, Scottish reactions to the election results were influ- enced by purely national factors. Although only a minority of Scottish voters had chosen the Conservatives, Margaret Thatcher was reelected due to the strength of her support in England. The “democratic deficit” resulting from Scotland’s constitutional status in Great Britain became a central political issue in the following years, as did the flat-rate Commu- nity Charge, or Poll Tax, which was implemented in Scotland in 1989, a year earlier than in England. Musicians who lived in Scotland were thus directly concerned and forced to consider their attitude to the Poll Tax before their counterparts in England. The sense of injustice expressed by musicians again combined a feeling of national difference and left-wing sentiment (in the form of opposition to the regressive nature of the tax). Significantly, the only two songs specifically about the tax were re- corded by Scottish bands—“Soul Crying Out” by Simple Minds (“I feel them coming / So close behind / Sister says, we’re next in line / The man he says, that’s OK / And the Government says you’re gonna pay, pay, pay / And you pay / Still you pay”) and “Don’t Pay the Poll Tax” by The Exploited (“It’s comin’ through your letter box / A sheet for you to fill in / You know you have to do it / Cause you know you just can’t win / Don’t pay the poll tax / Stick it up her arse”). In 1989, at the height of the cam- paign against the tax, a “Rock Against the Poll Tax” concert was held in Edinburgh (Quantick, 1989, p. 50). Organised by the Scottish Trades Union Congress, it was clearly intended as a national protest, and only Scottish bands were invited to perform at it. Deacon Blue, Hue and Cry, the Silencers, Texas, and Wet Wet Wet played at the concert. Some Scot- tish musicians were also prepared to make individual political statements. In an interview in the New Musical Express, Jim Kerr of Simple Minds railed against the “immoral” nature of the new tax (Staunton, 1989, p. 32), while Stuart Adamson of Big Country described it as “unfair, appalling and repressive” (Collins, 1990, p. 11). In June 1990, a huge outdoor con- cert (the “Big Day”) was put on in Glasgow as part of the capital of cul-
142 | popular music and left-wing scottishness ture celebrations. Before performing, the singer of Deacon Blue, Ricky Ross, gave a passionate speech in which he highlighted the consequences of the Conservative government’s policies on Scotland and condemned Scottish Labour MPs for their muted opposition. His words were cheered by many of those present and heard by millions of Scottish people since approximately 300,000 were present at the event, and it was shown live on television. 7 They were also reported in the British music press (McKay, 1990, p. 48). However, musicians were divided about how to fight against the Poll Tax. Some such as Stuart Adamson refused to break the law and agreed to pay (Collins, 1990, p. 11), while others including Charlie and Craig Reid of the Proclaimers (Martin, 1990, p. 15), Pat Kane of Hue and Cry (Kane, 1989, p. 139), and Martin Metcalf of Goodbye Mr Mac- kenzie (Kelly, 1990, p. 3) refused to pay and were prepared to go to prison. The relationship between activists and musicians created during the cam- paign contributed to the staging in July 1990 of a concert in favour of devolution, “A Day for Scotland”, which featured Runrig, Hue and Cry, and the Shamen. The groups mentioned above were important artists in the late 1980s, who had nothing to gain commercially by being associ- ated with political campaigns. The latter tend to be more controversial and divisive than humanitarian or charity work. It can thus be assumed that they were acting out of political conviction. Through their activities (songs, concerts, and statements), Scottish mu- sicians were performing a particular sense of Scottishness. It was not simply based on history, but it also resulted from moral indignation at the consequences of Margaret Thatcher’s policies on Scotland and an impression of difference from England due to the specifically Scottish ex- perience of Thatcherism. Some concluded that devolution was the solu- tion to Scotland’s problems, while others came to favour independence. Pat Kane and Ricky Ross had both voted Labour in 1987 and remained attached to left-wing values, but they switched their allegiance to the SNP by the end of the decade. Charlie Reid later stated that his experience of the Thatcher years had reinforced his belief in socialism and con- verted him to nationalism (Rennie, 2013). To a certain extent, Scottish musicians were representative of significant sections of Scottish society, including some with an active involvement in politics. A growing sense of the singularity of the Scottish experience of Thatcherism and of the state of Scottish politics led many in the labour movement to question their
7. An indication of the atmosphere at the Big Day was given by the reception reserved for the singer Sheena Easton. Easton was born near Glasgow but had moved to the United States following her first British chart success in the early 1980s. Her newly-adopted mid-Atlantic accent went down badly with many of those present at the Big Day who booed and jeered her (English, 2010).
| 143 études écossaises 18 previous hostility to devolution and independence, as well as their rela- tionship to English politics. This process was not limited to the Labour Party. In 1991, the Communist Party of Great Britain changed its organ- isation and ideology, becoming Democratic Left. In a significant break with the past, it adopted a federal structure, with Democratic Left Scot- land having a great deal of autonomy. Scottish Communists who were opposed to these changes created their own grouping, the Communist Party of Scotland. In the same year, members of the Militant Tendency who had been expelled from the Labour Party created Scottish Militant Labour as an autonomous structure. Leading figures within the organ- isation such as Tommy Sheridan began to stress the long-term aim of creating an independent socialist Scotland. Members of these groupings went on to found the Scottish Socialist Party later in the decade. More- over, from the end of the 1980s, the SNP increasingly positioned itself to the left of the Labour Party, as it became clear when it advocated non-payment of the Poll Tax, whereas Labour adopted a more moderate position. In doing so, it succeeded in attracting traditional Labour voters, for example at the Glagow Govan by-election of 1988 when its candi- date overturned a large Labour majority to win the seat (Duclos, 2014, p. 43–6). It is notoriously difficult to measure the impact of a song or a group with any accuracy. However, as John Street has stated, pop music does not simply reflect the politics of a particular period since it can also establish “a context through which politics is viewed and judged” (Street, 2001, p. 247). It could thus be argued that the activities of musicians contrib- uted to shaping developments in Scottish society. In the late 1980s, groups such as the Proclaimers, Runrig and Deacon Blue appealed mainly to the young, a constituency which tended to be unreceptive to traditional party politics and propaganda. Left-wing Scottishness was an integral part of these bands, which could not be missed by the young people who bought their records and attended their concerts in huge numbers. Their commercial success would suggest that Scottish young people identified with them, at least to a certain extent. It is therefore likely that musicians contributed to shaping young people’s worldviews by strengthening their sense of national belonging and providing a political vision of Scotland’s situation. Furthermore, the activities of the Scottish musicians in question can be seen as examples of what Michael Billig has termed “banal nation- alism”. According to Billig, the constant “flagging” of nationhood by “routine and familiar forms” ensured that the members of a nation were constantly reminded of their national identity and did not forget it (Billig, 2014, p. 93). He mentions, for example, the national framework within
144 | popular music and left-wing scottishness which the news is presented on television and in the press and refers to the constant use of “we” by politicians and the media to signify shared membership of the British nation (Billig, 2014, p. 94). He incorporates these elements into a broad definition of nationalism, suggesting that the latter is present in the everyday lives of citizens of all nations and not simply on special occasions. Tim Edensor has noted that theorists of nationalism tend to concentrate on high culture and that their work consequently lacks “a sense of the unspectacular, contemporary produc- tion of national identity through popular culture and in everyday life” (Edensor, 2012, p. 12). He examines sports, carnivals and cars and brings out their significance for national identity, but he does not look spe- cifically at popular music. Nevertheless, his basic approach, along with that of Billig, can be applied to the Scottish musicians mentioned above. Their frequent inclusive references to Scotland were a constant reminder to young Scots of who they were and what nation they belonged to. This was particularly important in the late 1980s and early 1990s, a time of economic and social change and political impasse. Songs were not only listened to by those who bought records by Runrig and the Proclaimers, for example, since they were played on television and on the radio. It must also be borne in mind that at the time there were relatively few tele- vision channels and radio stations (since specialist channels and stations had not yet appeared). As a result, they attracted a broad cross-section of the population. Songs which were played on them therefore reached a sizeable audience. The songs of Runrig and the Pretenders therefore flagged national identity in many homes and places of work, as well as in concert venues. Scottish national identity was thus present in places that were central to the everyday lives of many people. Many Scottish musicians played a prominent public role in the late 1980s and early 1990s, which is in itself, indicative of the growing cul- tural and political singularity of Scotland. Scottish musicians opposed the Conservatives from a distinctly left-wing national perspective, and supported changes in Scotland’s constitutional status. Like mainstream artists in the rest of Great Britain, they were less present in public life in the following years. Nevertheless, in 1997, Donnie Monro of Runrig left the band to contest the Ross, Skye and Inverness parliamentary seat for the Labour Party, while in 2001, Pete Wishart also left the group to stand as an SNP candidate in the Tayside North constituency. Unlike Monro, he was successfully elected to Westminster. Musicians reappeared during the 2014 referendum campaign. Although there were no national concerts, prominent musicians did not hesitate to express their opinions. For instance, Donnie Monro, Shirley Manson (Garbage) and Sharleen Spiteri (Texas) stated their opposition to independence, while the Reid
| 145 études écossaises 18 brothers, Ricky Ross, Pat Kane and Alex Kapranos (Franz Ferdinand) announced that they were going to vote in favour of it. 8 The Proclaimers went one step further and donated £10,000 to the “yes” campaign (Brooks, 2014). Moreover, politically-minded music lovers launched a campaign to ensure that the Proclaimers’ “Cap in Hand” topped the download charts the week of the referendum (Macnab, 2014). It is note- worthy that a number of the musicians who gave their opinions in 2014 had already engaged with politics in the late 1980s, creating an element of continuity between the two periods. However, the common ground that existed between them as a result of their opposition to Thatcherism no longer existed, and some of them found themselves on different sides of the fence during the referendum campaign.
Bibliography
Billig Michael, 2014 [1995], Banal Nationalism, London, SAGE Publi- cations. Bowler Dave & Dray Bryan, 1995, Deacon Blue. Just What I Feel, London, Sidgwick & Jackson. Brooks Libby, 2014 (2 September), “The Proclaimers Donate £10,000 to Scotland’s Yes Campaign”, Guardian. Available on
8. English musicians including David Bowie and Paul McCartney lent their support to the “no” campaign.
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Duclos Nathalie, 2014, L’Écosse en quête d’indépendance. Le référendum de 2014, Paris, Presses de l’université Paris-Sorbonne. Edensor Tim, 2002, National Identity, Popular Culture and Everyday Life, Ox- ford, Berg. English Paul, 2010 (31 May), “The Big Day – 20 years On: Stars and Fans Remember Historic Scots Gig”, Daily Record. Available on
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Morton Tom, 1991, Going Home. The Runrig Story, Edinburgh, Main- stream Publishing Company. Percival J. Mark, 2010, “Rock, Pop and Tartan”, in I. Brown (ed), From Tartan to Tartanry: Scottish Culture, History and Myth, Edinburgh, Edin- burgh University Press, pp. 195–211. Quantick David, 1989 (15 April), “Never Mind the Pollocks”, New Mu- sical Express, p. 50. Reisenleitner Markus, 2014, “Runrig’s Celtic Revival: Folk-Rock, the Gaelic Language, and the Cultural Politics of the Scottish Islands”, in C. Glanz and A. Mayer-Hirzberger (eds), Musik und Erinnern: Festschrift für Cornelia Szabó-Knotik, Vienna, Hollitzer, pp. 273–85. Rennie Allan, 2013 (9 April), “Proclaimers Star Charlie Reid Said Thatcher’s Politics Made Him Back Scottish Independence”, Daily Record. Available on
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Whytock Lisa, n.d., “Resisting the Poll Tax”, Yeah! Deacon Blue Magazine, 4, pp. 18–19. Williamson Kevin, 2009, “Language and Culture in a Rediscovered Scotland”, in M. Perryman (ed), Breaking Up Britain: Four Nations after a Union, London, Lawrence & Wishart, pp. 53–67.
| 149
Emerence Hild Université de Strasbourg
Renegotiating Scottish Nationalism after the 2014 Independence Referendum
On 18 September 2014, Scots were invited to answer the following ques- tion: “Should Scotland be an independent country?” A majority of people rejected independence by a 55.25% to 44.65% vote. 1 The turnout was just under 85% and the victory of the no camp was larger than had been expected regarding previous polls. Though the results meant that the 307 year old union between England and Scotland was preserved, the United Kingdom general election a few months later, on 7 May 2015, brought significant gains to the Scottish National Party. The SNP won 56 seats out of 59 in Scotland, thus outshining the three mainstream parties, including the Labour Party which had long been Scotland’s first party. This situation begs a number of questions as to the viability of the links between Scotland and the rest of the United Kingdom, and—on a larger scale—as to the durability of the current system wherein four distinct nations with their own features and identities co-exist inside a multi-national overarching entity. The campaign for the Scottish independence referendum was a sur- prisingly long one. It started in May 2012 with the launch of Yes Scot- land, quickly followed by the launch of Better Together, and came to an end on 18 September 2014. Considering the length of this campaign, the diversity of media involved and the variety of arguments put for- ward by each side, it can be seen as rather striking that the concept of national identity should not have been discussed in more length during the pre-referendum campaign. Pro-independence supporters especially seem to have avoided the usual rhetoric of nationalist discourse during the campaign. In broad terms, this refers to an ideological discourse focused on the nature of the nation and its legitimacy as the main foun- dation for the state’s sovereignty. As this article argues, Better Together campaigners paradoxically seemed more willing to use patriotic argu- ments than their opponents. It is undeniable though that the question
1. Results available on
| 151 études écossaises 18 of identity was only touched upon and never examined as a major issue either by political parties or the two umbrella campaign groups. This is all the more surprising that the referendum campaign could have pro- vided an ideal platform to have a debate about the state and future of Scottish and British identities. Nonetheless, the SNP’s reluctance to insist on the affirmation of a strong Scottish identity or to emphasize its cul- tural specificities as part of its rhetoric and political strategy is not new to Scottish politics and might go some way to explaining the predominance of economic issues in the referendum campaign (Duclos, 2014). Traditionally, Scottish politicians agree that Scottish identity is pri- marily a political, open and inclusive form of identity (Camp-Pietrain, 2014, p. 92). This vision is expressed through the concept of civic nation- alism, a concept largely used by Scottish political elites to talk about the nation. However, studies have recently highlighted the discrepancy between the reality of Scottish people’s perception of their national iden- tity and the vision put forward by political elites (Leith & Soule, 2011). Beyond this initial problem also lies a deeper issue, linked to the multi- plicity of national identities and nationalisms in the United Kingdom. If we take the term national identity to mean both the set of multi- dimensional features (linguistic, cultural, historical, etc.) usually linked to a specific geographical entity—in this case Scotland—and people’s inner feelings, individual as well as collective, of belonging to this par- ticular territory then it both refers to the exterior and/or abstract signs of Scotland’s existence as a nation and to the subjective agreement of its people to recognize Scotland as a coherent whole and possibly as part of their own identity. Nationalism also faces a plurality of definitions. One possible way to understand nationalism in Scotland or the United Kingdom is to see it as the political expression of Scottish and British national identities, through discourse and actions. Nationalism, in that particular sense, can be seen as one of the means by which identities are constructed and passed on. This theoretical background raises the question of the possibility for Scottish people to combine multi-layered identities and the question of the compatibility between nationalist dis- courses in Scotland and Britain outside the antagonistic aims of the SNP (Scottish independence) and British nationalism (status quo). This article aims at examining the content and limitations of nation- alists’ and Unionists’ competing visions of Scottish national identity in the specific light of their campaign discourse in the months before the 2014 referendum. It will focus on the particular treatment of identity issues during the campaign and argue that the close analysis of campaign productions actually reveals the existence of an underlying questioning about territorial attachments in Scotland, about Scottish and British
152 | renegotiating scottish nationalism after the independence referendum nation-building and about political views of national identities in the United Kingdom.
Civic nationalism in Scotland
Many studies of nations and nationalism resort to the dichotomy between ethnic and civic nationalism (see Smith, 1991; Ignatieff, 1993). According to Jonathan Hearn: [It] has been common to make a distinction between “ethnic” and “civic” forms of nationalism, the former involving beliefs in biological and cultural essentialisms, and the latter involving commitments to ideas of citizenship and the rule of law. (Cited in Kiely, Bechhofer & McCrone, 2005b.) Ethnic nationalism puts the emphasis on ethnic or cultural features such as one’s language or religion, common descent, a shared history or a shared territory for example. The aim of ethnic nationalism is normally to obtain self-governance through the recognition of the nation’s particular fea- tures. It is considered as an exclusive type of nationalism, meaning that only people with the right ethnic qualities or descent have a right to claim their belonging to the nation. It is opposed to civic nationalism which is based on the idea that people can willingly become part of the nation as long as they adhere to its core values and take part in the life of the society. It is a form of nationalism that has more to do with social ties, the existence of a social contract between the members of a given society and their attachment to the country’s institutions than it has to do with cul- tural and ethnic elements. This particular type of nationalism exemplifies Ernest Renan’s assertion that the nation is “a daily plebiscite”. 2 The civic notion of the nation suggests that belonging to a nation is first and fore- most a question of choice and it is linked with the notions of democracy, citizenship and social justice. A remark about the terminology used in this article should be added here. The term cultural is highly ambiguous when related to the question of nationalism as has been shown by Rogers Brubaker (1998) for instance. In this article the adjective cultural will be used to describe the set of elements related to our understanding of ethnic nationalism (language, tradition or folklore for instance). The two concepts of civic and cultural nationalism should therefore not be con- flated, even more so as the concept of cultural nationalism can be defined in its own right outside the civic/ethnic dichotomy.
2. Ernest Renan, Qu’est-ce qu’une nation ?, 1882.
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The division between ethnic nationalism and civic nationalism can un- doubtedly be questioned. The political theorist Bernard Yack for example sees in the civic/ethnic dichotomy a myth, that of consent versus descent (Bechhofer & McCrone, 2015, p. 162) while Rogers Brubaker sees it as “a Manichean view that there are two kinds of nationalism, a good, civic kind and a bad, ethnic kind” (1998). Nevertheless it seems to be the basic conceptual means to understand the politics of national identity in Scot- land today. Indeed, “the Scottish case seems to provide a good instance of […] a civic, residential basis for belonging. […] This is a view which runs across the political divide in Scotland, including the Scottish National Party” (Kiely, Bechhofer & McCrone, 2005b). As Nathalie Duclos also underlines: “La conception de la citoyenneté écossaise par le SNP, fondée avant tout sur le principe de la résidence, se veut le reflet de son ancrage dans cette tradition civique.” (2014, p. 151) In the above statements, Scottish nationalism appears as firmly civic. On its website, the Scottish government defines Scottish national identity as follows: Scotland’s national and cultural identity is defined by our sense of place, our sense of history and our sense of self. It is defined by what it means to be Scottish; to live in a modern Scotland in a modern world; to have an affinity to Scotland; and to be able to participate in Scottish society. 3 It is interesting to note that this vision of Scottish national identity does not refer to any national figures, national symbols or historical landmarks. It rather puts residency and a willingness to share social ties and duties with other members of the Scottish society at the heart of Scottish national identity. Two remarks can be made: first, even though the Scottish National Party is rightly to be seen as a nationalist party in the sense that its polit- ical aim is to gain independence, its project is not expressed through the rhetoric of ethnic and cultural symbolism. This is an important charac- teristic of the nationalist discourse in Scotland. Second, the recognition and defense of Scottish identity is not the sole privilege of the SNP. The vision of the Scottish nation as a coherent whole with innate specificities is rather shared among the Scottish political community and there seems to be little debate as to the civic aspect of the Scottish nation. What follows from this definition is the fact that civic nationalism relates to a number of universal values and in that sense could as well be used to express the political creed of other Western countries such as
3. Scottish Government, “National Identity: We Take Pride in a Strong, Fair and Inclusive Na- tional Identity”. Available on
154 | renegotiating scottish nationalism after the independence referendum
France. 4 Besides, civic nationalism—as usually understood in the Scot- tish context—seems to deny the multiplicity of referential elements taken into account by people to construct their personal identity. It reduces national identity to a set of ideological values and principles while over- looking the multidimensional aspect of Scottish identity by disregarding the influence of cultural attributes over people’s perception of their na- tional identity. The complexity and multiplicity of feelings of identity in Scotland and the United Kingdom means that Scottish and British national identities should not be exclusively represented through the prism of the civic/ethnic dichotomy but as complex territorial identities. Indeed, considering the absence of ethnic and cultural elements to define Scottish (or British) national identities in the rhetoric of civic nation- alism, it is assumed that the fundamental attribute for an individual to be able to claim his Scottishness is the fact that he is a Scottish resident. In other words, “the Scottish modernist interpretation put forward is one of Scottishness as a territorial, civic-based form of identity, whereby an individual resident in Scotland can claim to be Scottish” (Leith & Soule, 2011, p. 4). Civic nationalism directly points at the importance of terri- toriality in the construction of people’s national identity. The nation then is a community of people sharing a particular territory. But civic nation- alism’s vision of territoriality is restricted in the sense that it equates it to residency and makes it one of the most, if not the most, legitimate aspects for one to make the conscious choice of adhering to the nation. A different view of territory in the context of national identity could be underlined, according to which territorial entities help people locate themselves not only on a physical level but also on the subjective level of their attachment to the abstract attributes of the nation. Paradoxically, territorial identities should not be conceived as a purely spatial attachment. They rely on a greater number of referential elements such as a particular language, specific traditions or a distinct culture. Territorial identities are thus “territorial” in the sense that they spatialize a full set of abstract elements. By giving a concrete location to non- tangible elements territorial identities make it easier for individuals to apprehend these referential points. Territorial identities must therefore be understood as the individual’s realization that he is attached to a given territory because of its multiple specificities. In social and geographical terms, this means that people can develop a sense of belonging to a given
4. However, in several parts of Europe the mounting influence of far-rights parties, including UKIP in the United Kingdom, actually seems to reveal an increasing criticism towards these values and the civic basis of integration and nation-building in these countries.
| 155 études écossaises 18 territory that is related to their affection for the territory’s specific features as well as for abstract elements they associate with the region. There is undeniably a wide consensus in Scotland as to the fact that Scotland is a nation and that its political creed rests on the ideals of democracy, social justice and inclusiveness. The above reflection never- theless stresses the fact that this apparent consensus does not prevent the notion of civic nationalism from being questioned. This is one of the reasons why it is important to contrast the theoretical definition of civic nationalism to the actual treatment of identity issues by political leaders and campaign groups during the referendum campaign. To what extent did campaign messages comply with the traditional notion of civic nationalism? How did political figures manage to play with the notion in order to promote their own vision of Scotland’s future?
Scottish nationalism and the referendum campaign
If we look closely at the way identity issues were dealt with during the referendum campaign, a few elements can be underlined. First, it is im- portant to note that few campaign productions were devoted to the ques- tion of Scottish national identity. Indeed, issues such as the economy, the health care system or Scotland’s relations to Europe were at the centre of political debates, leaving at the periphery identity related problems. But the campaign groups’ and political parties’ campaigns were not lim- ited to the speeches made by a number of influential figures (either from the political, business or cultural stage) on important meetings. Their campaigns also took place on a daily basis, on the streets through can- vassing and leafletting as well as on the Internet. The study of campaign documents including web infographics, leaflets, campaign ads (posters, video clips, etc.) or pictures from campaign meetings 5 show that, even though the campaign discourse of political figures did not make many references to Scottish and British national identities, Yes Scotland and Better Together campaigns made use of national symbols. In other words, even though national identities were not frequently spoken of as such, they were implicitly mentioned through the use of these symbols some- times indicative of campaign groups’ particular visions of British and Scottish identities. Second, there was a fundamental difference between pro-independence supporters who put aside patriotic and nationalistic arguments because they wanted voters to focus on concrete elements such
5. Available on the Scottish Political Archive website:
156 | renegotiating scottish nationalism after the independence referendum as the economy rather than on the more emotional issue of patriotic pride and Unionists who emphasized their attachment to Scotland as a nation. Nicola Sturgeon in one of her speeches underlined the fact that: Contrary to what many outside observers might imagine, the debate we are having is not about national identity. Scotland, like most modern European countries, is a melting pot of different identities: Scottish, British, Pakistani, Irish, Polish and many more besides. (2013) This idea pertains to the fact that “nationhood or Scottish identity is not the motive force for independence” (ibid.). The idea of Scottish people’s sense of national identity was seen as secondary but not as being problem- atic, in part because of the country’s positive vision of multiculturalism. Naturally, Yes Scotland supporters appropriated symbols such as the national flag or tartan kilts. Pictures of campaign meetings or independ- ence rallies show that many people used these symbols as exterior signs of their support for Scottish independence. In the end, Yes Scotland, despite the fact that it rejected traditional ethnic and cultural forms of nationalism and promoted a multi-cultural vision of Scottish society, put forward such elements, mostly on the Internet. For example, the Yes Scotland social networks cover picture by artist Stewart Brenmer repre- sented a Scottish flag and a girl wearing a tartan scarf and holding a thistle. Their campaign motto “Scotland’s Future in Scotland’s Hands” can also be read as an implicit reference to the rights of nations to self- determination which is an important element of discourse in traditional forms of nationalism promoting self-governance on the basis of ethnic or cultural features. However, the campaign for the Scottish referendum did not encourage pro-independence supporters to put aside their civic vision of national identity and rely on more traditional nationalist argu- ments. SNP leaders as well as other Yes Scotland prominent figures were consistent in pushing forward a vision of Scotland defined as a civic nation and promoting a society based on the shared values of social justice and democracy. As Alex Salmond put it in his speech outlaying his programme for government: The real debate is how to create a prosperous country and a just society. Our attitude towards the disadvantaged and vulnerable. Our welcome for people who want to settle here. Our relationship with Europe and the rest of the world. Our strength as a society to which we all contribute. (Scottish Government, 2013) Didier Revest provides another example that emphasizes the strength of this vision of Scottish national identity, the vision of an identity based on shared moral values and political principles. Referring to an interview
| 157 études écossaises 18 of Blair Jenkins, the former chief executive of Yes Scotland, he states: “[He] has even explained that there is a definable set of ‘Scottish values’ which are ‘distinct from values elsewhere in the UK’. To him, impor- tantly, this difference is the basic reason why Scotland must leave the UK.” (Revest, 2014) Yes Scotland did not base its campaign on a debate about the nature of the Scottish nation but put forward its members’ long-time belief in civic nationalism. What this implies is that Scottish national identity was defined by Yes Scotland members as a socio-political identity, equating Scottishness to a set of values and a yearning for a better and more just society, which is in keeping with the rhetoric of civic nationalism. A more striking element considering the fact that Yes Scotland was set up to lead the campaign in favour of Scottish independence is the fact that its members acknowledged the existence and the strength of people’s feelings of Britishness. Contrary to Better Together members who, as we will see, tended to downplay the importance of Britishness as a feeling of national identity, Yes Scotland shared a positive outlook on the ques- tion of people’s attachment to Britain. Nicola Sturgeon mentioned the “social, family and cultural heritage that makes up such a [British] iden- tity” (2013). According to her it would be “‘perfectly acceptable’ […] for someone to think of themselves as British and yet support Scotland’s withdrawal from the UK” (Jack, 2013). The idea that Scottish people can feel a certain degree of British identity was not rejected. This might be seen as a simple way to avoid social and political issues, should a no vote win at the referendum. Or it could be seen as a way to attract undecided voters by asserting the possibility for them to keep a sense of British iden- tity in an independent Scotland. Nevertheless, this particular position begs the question of the definition of Britishness. Is it a mere symbolic form of identity resulting from a long-time shared history? If we now look at Unionists’ vision of Scottish and British identi- ties we can see that it both shared similarities and differences with pro- independence supporters’ vision. Gordon Brown’ speech on the eve of the referendum provides an example of the use of patriotism in the Better Together campaign. The repetition of the word “proud” eight times by the former Prime Minister in his speech highlights his strong affirmation of Scottish admiration (Brown, 2014). Though the passionate tone of the speech was not typical of the Better Together campaign, other prominent unionist figures such as David Cameron and Alistair Darling also used the notions of pride and patriotism in speeches, articles or on TV. For instance, the British Prime Minister declared a few days before the vote: “Scotland is a proud, strong, successful nation.” (Dearden, 2014) Through these elements of speech, the Better Together campaign acknowledged
158 | renegotiating scottish nationalism after the independence referendum the specificity of Scotland’s national identity. Moreover it related it to cultural elements: pride in the nation’s heroes and famous people such as Adam Smith or Keir Hardie, pride in the nation’s history and achieve- ments or love of the country’s particular features (Cameron, 2012). As a consequence it is possible to say that Better Together leading figures put forward a vision of the Scottish nation different from that defined by Yes Scotland. Here, in contrast to the socio-political vision of Yes Scotland members, Scottish national identity is presented as a cultural identity. The United Kingdom was simultaneously shown as a family of nations (to take up a term repeatedly used by David Cameron in his speeches). Using the term “family of nations” instead of “nation” alone to describe the United Kingdom can be seen both as a way to differentiate British and Scottish identities and as a way to highlight the inherent link that unites the two. In any case, it connects with the idea of national identity. It is possible to note that Better Together leaders often referred to the United Kingdom as “our country,” thus offering a counterpart to Yes Scotland’s habit to refer to Scotland as “our nation”. Another important aspect of the Better Together message concerning British and Scottish national identity is that they are fully compatible. As Alistair Darling explained: This question of multiple identities is something Scots have been comfort- able with for many years. It’s entirely possible to be a patriotic Scot and be wholly at ease with being British. That’s been the position for most of us for the last few centuries. In a typically unplanned way, this has become one of the UK’s great strengths. There is more than one way of being British— whether you feel English, Welsh, Northern Irish or Scottish first, you can be British too without contradiction. (2013) David Cameron also underlined the possibility for Scottish people to combine both Scottish and British feelings of identity, saying that “[you] can be proud of your Scottishness, proud of Scottish nationhood, proud of what Scotland stands for, proud of Scottish history but still believe in being part of the United Kingdom” (2014). Being part of the United Kingdom is presented in that sense as a con- scious choice made by people who feel attached to the British state, and British identity becomes a sort of overarching identity superimposed to other national identities. Even though Better Together tried to insist on its members’ attachment to Scotland, it nevertheless conveyed a message designed to reconstruct a positive image of Britain and British identity. This image of Britishness is based on the idea that it consists in a set of values: “British values. Fairness. Freedom. Justice.” (Dearden, 2014) These values belong to a civic vision of the nation as defined above. As
| 159 études écossaises 18 for Yes Scotland, Better Together therefore resorted to the discourse of civic nationalism, only this time to convey a civic vision of the British nation instead of the Scottish nation.
Beyond Scottish nationalism: identities in question
The use of national symbols by both campaign groups indicates that the question of national identity was not erased from the campaign but used as a means to implicitly reconstruct their own image of Scottish and British national identities to appeal to the electorate rather than as an issue in itself. The discourse of national identity in the Better Together campaign for instance remained highly politicized. Indeed, it could be argued that the Better Together campaign took advantage of the fact that the Yes Scotland campaign did not wish to discuss national iden- tity issues to adopt a patriotic oriented discourse. Looking at occurrences of patriotic statements in the discourse of Better Together supporters, there was undeniably and unsurprisingly a political ambition linked to it: appealing to Scottish voters with a strong sense of national identity by showing their similar support for the Scottish nation and rekindling a sense of British identity among all Scottish people. Whether in the end this strategy played a part in the no victory is open to question. According to the Ipsos-MORI poll released on the day of the referendum, only 19% of the voters said they were motivated by their feeling of identity (What Scotland Thinks, 2014). In both campaigns, the question of national identity was used to some extent as a means to discredit the opposite side. Better Together supporters accused Yes Scotland of breaking British “family ties” and Yes Scotland insisted on Unionists’ refusal to consider Scotland as a successful nation capable of governing itself. After having studied the treatment of national identity issues by the Yes Scotland and Better Together campaigns, it is possible to argue that the debates remained centred on a political vision of Scottish and British national identity. The issue of British territorial identities was either overlooked or given a political overtone to convey a message during the campaign, so that a real exploration of the issues raised by the evolution of the relations between British different nations was made impossible. The campaign message of supporters of either Scottish independence or the Union only briefly highlighted elements of redefinition of British and Scottish identities. Attempts by the two campaign organisations and political parties at convincing the electorate either to vote yes or no resulted in no-supporters being more anxious to assert their Scottish identity than their British belonging. As for pro-
160 | renegotiating scottish nationalism after the independence referendum independence supporters, the fact that they intentionally avoided the issue of national identity resulted in the impossibility for national identity issues to be placed at the centre of the political stage. In order to understand the problems raised by the absence of a full- fledged debate about Scottish and British identities or a confrontation of pro-independence and unionist nationalist discourses, the conflicting views highlighted before can be rephrased as follows. To Scottish national- ists, the fact that the United Kingdom is a political entity linking together four different nations meant that Scottish independence would not impact people’s feeling of attachment to Britain because all four nations would still share the same ties as neighbour states. This vision of British identity implies that, even if Scotland had become independent, the abstract bond between Scotland and the rest of the United Kingdom, what Benedict Anderson famously calls an “imagined community” (1983), could have been preserved. At the same time, it also suggests that Scottish national identity would not be impaired by the country’s removal from the United Kingdom and is independent from Scottish people’s possible attachment to the United Kingdom as a whole. To Unionists on the contrary, the fact that Scotland is part of the British state means that the two terri- torial identities are necessarily linked and that Scotland’s independence would sever this link. In spite of the differences between these competing visions, both therefore seem to assert a certain degree of compatibility between people’s feeling of Scottish identity and British belonging. Although Unionists did not insist on describing the United Kingdom as a nation and British identity as a shared feeling among all British people, the fact that they defined it in terms of principles and values reveals their particular take on the issue of multiple identities in the United Kingdom. Their attempt at reconstructing an image of British identity as “a strong, albeit non-ethnic identity, apart from and above that of the component parts” (Keating, 2009, p. 67) is reminiscent of the discourse of civic nationalism. This vision of Britishness comes into con- flict with the nationalist vision of Scottish identity. According to Michael Keating: [The] effort to promote national identities based on universal values con- fronts, not a Scottish identity based on exclusion and ethnicity, but a revived Scottish national identity based on exactly the same values and with a distinct European and global dimension. (2009, p. 69) In other words, Scottish and British identities necessarily come into a conflict if they are both defined as civic, inclusive identities. Indeed, if Scottish identity represents a set of values and the possibility for people to live according to these values in Scotland, the British state cannot have
| 161 études écossaises 18 a similar purpose without implying a sense of hierarchy between British and Scottish identities. To Scottish nationalists, Scottish and British iden- tities cannot play the same role in people’s identity construction so that defining them in a similar way necessarily creates a conflicting situation where Scottish and British identities become antagonistic. Didier Revest puts it differently when he says: “To a Scot who believes that Scotland is the bounded community of solidarity (otherwise known as the sharing community) he or she belongs to, the ‘family’ cannot mean the same as to someone who sees the UK as playing that role.” (2014) For Unionist nationalists there is no inconsistency though considering the fact that their unionist project prevails over subnational particularities. Is the break-up of Britain inevitable then? During the referendum campaign, yes-supporters made it clear that Scotland’s independence would not mean the break-up of the United Kingdom but a redefinition of the relations between its states. On the contrary, Unionists heavily relied on the rhetoric of the break-up of Britain, forecasting the con- sequences this would have in Scotland and in the rest of the United Kingdom. Alistair Darling for instance stated: “We do not need to divide these islands into separate states in order to assert our Scottish identity” in his second televised debate against Alex Salmond, using the words “divide” and “separate” conveying a negative connotation to point to the need for the United Kingdom to stay united. Even though the results of the referendum were a clear no, the assumption that Britishness might be under threat or lack popular support in the United Kingdom cannot be unilaterally eluded. Nevertheless, beyond the question of people’s actual feeling of attachment to Scotland and the United Kingdom as territorial, political and cultural entities, what is at stake is the political expression of Scottish and British nationalisms. These two conflicting views remain at the heart of the debate about the state and future of the United Kingdom. Finally, we come to the same conclusion as Didier Revest in his recent book on the Scottish independence debate: No discussion of the future of the UK will be final, at least, that is, for the foreseeable future, unless the very basis of what it means and should mean— in terms of sharing community—is addressed, regardless of the objective differences between the said nations. Put differently, the debate will be as much about [the UK four nations] individually as about them collectively to do justice to the fact that many […] still see no contradiction in belonging equally to more than just one political sphere. (2014, p. 148)
162 | renegotiating scottish nationalism after the independence referendum
Conclusion
The 2014 referendum put the question of the relation between Scotland and the rest of the United Kingdom at the heart of the political debate, in much the same way as the 1997 referendum on devolution had done before. The study of the referendum campaign from the specific angle of identity-related issues advanced above has revealed the complex pic- ture of national identities and nationalism in contemporary Scotland. The campaign debates have shown the reluctance of British and Scot- tish politics to distance themselves from a civic conception of the British and Scottish nation. This is one of the main reasons why we find that yes and no supporters actually defended diverging visions of British and Scottish identities that were, as such, irreconcilable. Nevertheless, both campaign groups asserted the possibility for people to express several feelings of belonging at the same time, though they did not give the same explanation for these possibly multiple identities. To break the deadlock pro-independence supporters’ and Unionists’ conceptions of British and Scottish national identities seem to lead to, there seems to be a necessity for both identities to be taken out of the political context of the refer endum and to be redefined so as to comply with the reality of people’s feelings of belonging. As recent sociological studies show, for a majority of them this is a dual sense of belonging to the Scottish nation and the British state (see for example Bechhofer & McCrone, 2015). In the end, the treatment—but lack of exploration—of identity issues during the cam- paign revealed the need for political actors to encourage multi-layered identities by redefining their vision and representation of Scottish and British identities. One of the means by which multi-layered identities can truly be en- couraged is by redefining Scottish national identity. Whether it is taken as an ideological ideal resting on the principles of civic nationalism or not, it takes root and shape in a well-defined territory, that of Scotland. The country, given its clear boundaries, makes it possible for its inhabitants to develop a feeling of belonging to Scotland and the Scottish nation. As a consequence, Scottish national identity can be redefined, to some extent at least, as a territorial form of belonging to a particular territory, not in terms of residency but in terms of subjective attachment to the said ter- ritory, that is to say as the adherence to a number of values, discourses, principles and cultural elements. Ethnic and cultural attributes do neces- sarily bear a symbolic quality that can be assimilated by the people living in a given territory and developing a sense of national identity. Scottish national identity can therefore be seen at least in part as a territorial iden- tity choice made by people who become aware of their attachment to
| 163 études écossaises 18
Scotland and what they identify as the founding features of the nation, both in terms of ideology and cultural attributes. Most importantly, Scot- tish identity is a multi-dimensional identity and escapes any definition that would reduce it to a single monolith. The question of Scottish and British national identity is still a heated issue in the aftermath to the referendum. While all political figures agreed on the fact that the referendum would be a once-in-a-lifetime chance for Scottish people to change the way they are governed, the results of the 2015 general election and the upcoming referendum on the United King- dom’s membership to the European Union have already led the media to mention the possibility for another referendum on Scottish independence. Whether a new referendum takes place in a foreseeable future or not, and even if political figures still see national identities as a subsidiary issue, the question of Scottish and British identities and their relation to one another as well as that of the implications of people’s feelings of national belonging will probably continue to stir public debate.
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164 | renegotiating scottish nationalism after the independence referendum
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Bechhofer Frank & McCrone David, 2015, Understanding National Iden- tity, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Brubaker Rogers, 1998, “Myth and Misconception in the Study of Na- tionalism”, in J. Hall (ed.) The State of the Nation: Ernest Gellner and the Theory of Nationalism, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Camp-Pietrain Edwige, 2006, La devolution : Écosse – Pays de Galles, Neuilly-sur-Seine, Atlante. —, 2014, L’Écosse et la tentation de l’indépendance : le référendum d’autodétermi nation de 2014, Villeneuve-d’Ascq, Presses universitaires du Septentrion. Duclos Nathalie, 2014, L’Écosse en quête d’indépendance : le référendum de 2014, Paris, Presses de l’université Paris-Sorbonne. Grandjean Pernette (dir.), 2012, Construction identitaire et espace, Paris, L’Harmattan. Guérin-Pace France, 2006, “Sentiment d’appartenance et territoires identitaires”, L’espace géographique, vol. 35, no. 4, pp. 298–308. Guermond Yves, 2006, “L’identité territoriale : l’ambiguïté d’un concept géographique”, L’espace géographique, vol. 35, no. 4, pp. 291–7. Ignatieff Michael, 1993, Blood and Belonging: Journeys into the New Nation- alism, New York, Farra, Straus and Giroux. Keating Michael, 2009, The Independence of Scotland. Self-Government and the Shifting Politics of Union, Oxford, Oxford University Press. Kiely Richard, Bechhofer Frank & McCrone David, 2005a, “Whither Britishness? English and Scottish People in Scotland”, Nations and Na- tionalism , vol. 11, no. 1, pp. 65–83. —, 2005b, “Birth, Blood and Belonging: Identity Claims in Post-Devolu- tion Scotland”, The Sociological Review, vol. 53, no. 1, pp. 150–72. Leith Murray Stewart & Soule Daniel P. J., 2011, Political Discourse and National Identity in Scotland, Edinburgh, Edinburgh University Press. Leruez Jacques, 2000, L’Écosse, vieille nation, jeune État, Crozon, Éditions Armeline. Leydier Gilles, 1998, La question écossaise, Rennes, Presses universitaires de Rennes. Lynch Peter, 2002, SNP: The History of the Scottish National Party, Cardiff, Welsh Academic Press. McCrone David, 1992, Understanding Scotland: The Sociology of a Stateless Nation, London, Routledge. Pittock Murray, 2013, The Road to Independence? Scotland in the Balance, London, Reaktion Books. Revest Didier, 2014, Independence for Scotland! Independence for Scotland? Theoretical and Practical Reflections on the 2014 Referendum and Its Possible Outcomes, Newcastle upon Tyne, Cambridge Scholars Publishing. Smith Anthony D., 1991, National Identity, London, Penguin.
166 | RECENSIONS
Camille Manfredi Université de Bretagne occidentale
Marie-Odile Pittin-Hédon, The Space of Fiction. Voices from Scotland in a Post- Devolution Age, Glasgow, Scottish Literature International, 2015, 206 p.
Publiée par l’ASLS, cette récente monographie de Marie-Odile Pittin- Hédon, professeur en études écossaises et études britanniques contempo- raines à l’université d’Aix-Marseille, propose une lecture fine et exhaustive des voies qu’ouvrent les auteurs de la nouvelle scène littéraire écossaise en contexte post-dévolutionnaire. Dans The Space of Fiction. Voices from Scot- land in a Post-Devolution Age, Marie-Odile Pittin-Hédon explore le large spectre dans lequel se déploient les littératures écossaises du xxie siècle et examine les déplacements de curseur entre l’artistique, le politique et l’idéologique qu’opère cette nouvelle génération d’auteurs. La méta- phore spatiale annoncée en titre permet d’envisager la fiction écossaise contemporaine comme un territoire toujours mouvant et les expérimen- tations formelles des auteurs comme autant de passages, voire abolitions, des frontières géographiques, linguistiques et, ce qui intéresse particuliè- rement l’auteur, génériques. L’ouvrage dont on saluera la grande rigueur scientifique s’attache ainsi à réévaluer la force des canons (un sujet à la sensibilité renouvelée, comme le démontre l’auteur en introduction) et le jeu des continuités- discontinuités entre la seconde renaissance littéraire écossaise (Gray, Kel- man, Galloway…) et les auteurs de ce qu’Eleanor Bell et Gavin Miller qualifiaient en 2004 d’âge « post-national ». À l’examen de chacune des nombreuses œuvres de son corpus, Marie-Odile Pittin-Hédon envisage le traitement du genre et de la forme comme un indice des tensions entre nationalisme et transnationalisme, localisme et multiculturalisme qui ani- ment le paysage littéraire écossais. Chaque chapitre met en lumière un glissement normatif au sein d’« espaces » fictionnels et génériques dont il s’agit, pour les jeunes auteurs écossais, de tester les frontières tout en assurant à la littérature écossaise une plus grande visibilité à l’échelle européenne et mondiale. Le premier chapitre, « Millenium Babes », s’intéresse à l’écriture de la ville par les romancières Laura Hird, Anne Donovan, Zoë Strachan et
| 167 études écossaises 18
Alison Miller et à leur réappropriation d’un locus qu’avaient contribué à baliser James Kelman et Irvine Welsh à la fin du xxe siècle. Dans le cha- pitre deux, « Female crime fiction: the space of transgression », Marie- Odile Pittin-Hédon se penche sur les romans de détection de Louise Welsh, Val McDermid et Denise Mina pour mettre en lumière les moda- lités d’inflexion par la voix féminine d’une littérature écossaise de genre (policier et gothique) déterminée à ne pas se laisser fossiliser. Les chapitres suivants sont consacrés à l’entreprise de dés-invention puis réinvention du passé et du territoire écossais (James Robertson), à la représentation du multiculturalisme, des questions linguistiques qui en découlent (Suhayl Saadi) et au traitement en littérature de l’entrée de l’Écosse dans le marché mondialisé (Ewan Morrison). Nourri de ces considérations, le dernier chapitre « The confines of the Human » explore le traitement du « cos- mopolitisme » depuis la dialectique individu-collectivité dans les nouvelles de Michel Faber, Des Dillon, Suhayl Saadi, Dilys Rose et bien d’autres. The Space of Fiction propose une réflexion approfondie et actualisée des littératures écossaises du xxie siècle. Dans cet ouvrage qui ne tardera pas à devenir de référence, Marie-Odile Pittin-Hédon fait la démons- tration du dynamisme d’une nouvelle scène littéraire écossaise attachée à travailler l’élasticité de l’écart entre des problématiques dites « natio- nales » (si tant est qu’elles puissent n’être que cela) et celles qui débordent les seules frontières de l’Écosse.
Silke Stroh University of Muenster
Klaus Peter Müller (ed.), Scotland 2014 and Beyond – Coming of Age and Loss of Innocence?, Frankfurt am Main, Peter Lang, 2015, 457 p.
Structured around the central nexus of the Scottish independence refer- endum of 18 September 2014, this interdisciplinary volume investigates a wide range of cultural and social issues which have pertained to the independence debate, and to the wider developments that led up to it. As the word “beyond” in the book title indicates, the collection also discusses prospects for the country’s post-referendum future. Although the refer- endum result turned out a 55-percent vote in favour of staying within the UK, it soon became clear that Scottish nationalism and the demand for
168 | recensions constitutional and social change are by no means off the agenda, even if they remain, for the present, consigned to an intra-British arena. Hence, many of the issues which animated the referendum debate are bound to remain highly topical for quite some time, and this collection of essays is of continuing importance. Its origins lie in a conference that took place in the year before the referendum, in October 2013. Its theme, similar to the book’s title, was “Scotland 2014: Coming of Age and Loss of Inno- cence?”; the venue was the Germersheim campus of Mainz University (Germany). About two thirds of the conference papers found their way into this book. They have been revised and updated for publication, although most of those updates seem to have taken place before the ref- erendum, earlier in 2014, so that various chapters’ remarks on the post- referendum future remain prognoses, not yet including hard facts on the vote’s outcome or the subsequent political developments between mid- September 2014 and the book’s publication in February 2015. To some extent, such a time lag may have been hard to avoid, given the usual production time for academic books between manuscript sub- mission and actual publication. Nonetheless, if pre-referendum publica- tion really was unfeasible, it may have been preferable to wait a few more months in order to give authors the time to at least delete such obviously “dated” phrases as “the likely outcome of the September ballot” (p. 61), and perhaps even to insert a few more substantial updates on the first post-referendum events. For instance, such a delay may have given some authors the chance to modify their speculations on Scotland’s future now that the much-anticipated “no” vote has moved from likelihood to reality, whereas the likewise much-anticipated decline of the Scottish National Party following such a “no” vote has not become a reality. One chapter’s pre-referendum speculation that a “no” vote would be “snuffing out […] the flame” around which SNP supporters had rallied, and that this might mean a “traumatic” future for the party (p. 158), strikes us as odd if we read it in the knowledge that the SNP experienced a spectacular rise in membership immediately after the referendum, quickly regrouped under new leadership, and seemed to enjoy a steady rise in popularity during the months which led up to the book’s publication. That said, it is also striking how much of the volume’s content does in fact not seem anachronistic, and instead still seems just as relevant for 2015 and beyond. This not only pertains to the obviously still valid ana lyses of the socio-cultural developments before 2014 which laid the foun- dations for the referendum debates, or which illuminate other aspects of the complex relationship between Scotland and England, of Scotland’s position within the UK, and of its relationship with other countries. Many of the book’s statements on Scotland’s future likewise remain relevant,
| 169 either because various prognoses seem to have come true (and the con- tributors’ reasons for their predictions appear to be plausible explanations), or because various social questions of the pre-referendum era remain unanswered and will continue to be debated as part of intra-British reform agendas and ongoing pro-independence discourse. Besides the publication date, another aspect which might raise ques- tions is the subtitle: at first sight, it might suggest a problematic repro- duction of condescending, quasi-colonial tropes of non-independent Scotland as immature, childlike, or naïve, as opposed to a more mature, politically hard-headed, and realistic Union-British parent state (dom- inated by England, which has historically often been portrayed in the same mature and parental role as the Union-British state as a whole). However, the echoing of those images in this volume’s sub-title is best seen as ironic, as those discursive traditions are actually expressly criti- cised within the book. Far from seeming immature or unrealistic, Scottish political and socio-cultural debates are shown to be highly pertinent to discussions on how to change social realities for the better and to create more equitable, democratic, and sustainable futures, both within Britain and on an international level. Contributions comprise an impressive spectrum of academic discip lines—including anglophone Literary and Cultural Studies, Film Studies, Media Studies, History, Political and Social Science, and Law—as well as expertise from other professional sectors such as the media or civil service. The collection opens with two general introductory chapters by the editor, Klaus Peter Müller, the first being an outline of the book’s rationale, thematic scope, and structure, while the second sets the Scot- tish debate on identity, autonomy, popular sovereignty, and social justice within wider British, European, and global contexts. This second chapter also contains some very helpful post-referendum updates. Subsequent chapters of the volume are divided into five sections. Section I, “History and Politics”, begins with a contribution by Dauvit Brown which exam- ines the relationship between Scottish and British statehood (and identity) through the lens of medieval history and modern international law. Sub- sequently, Catriona Macdonald charts the complex relationship between Scottish nationalism and unionism in the perspectives of politicians, his- torians, writers, and artists from the nineteenth century to the present, and stresses the difficulty of drawing straightforward historical lessons for the current debate. Murray Pittock draws on theories of nationalism and on Trauma Studies in order to demonstrate how constructions of Britishness as a national community repressed memories of internal con- flict, and of different patriotisms oriented more towards Scotland and the UK’s other constituent nations. Failure to openly confront the problems recensions of Britishness, and the imperfect reconciliation of dissonant experiences, are identified as important factors in current debates. Section II, “The Media”, is opened by Neil Blain, who analyses how an anglocentric and unionist bias in the news media, along with failures in Scotland’s own educational and academic sector, perpetuate negative images of Scotland and its people. He also shows how this has impacted on the independence debate, specifically with regard to the “Project Fear” strategies of the “no” campaign which persistently stressed the risks of independence and the limits of Scottish potential. Further instances of media bias, but also examples of more balanced reporting, are identified by David Hutchison’s case study of TV and newspaper coverage of the Scottish government’s White Paper on independence. A different medium, i.e. film, is the focus of David Martin-Jones’s chapter. He analyses repre- sentations of Scotland which question the primary importance of the nation-state, favouring the smaller scale of intensely localised affiliation (e.g. by stressing Scotland’s internal cultural diversity) or the larger scale of transnational connections, for instance in terms of class or diasporic affiliations. These other frameworks might help to explain why strong Scottish identifications do not always translate into support for independ- ence. Nonetheless, the author also asks whether a Scottish nation-state might be seen as a valid platform to negotiate those transnational issues, for instance to counteract certain negative effects of neo-liberal global capitalism. Peter Jones’s essay proceeds from Neil MacCormick’s distinc- tion between two kinds of nationalism, an “existential” one based on notions of a distinct essential identity that in itself is already sufficient to justify independent statehood, and a “utilitarian” one where support for independence depends on whether it promises sufficient practical advantages. Drawing on empirical data, for instance from social attitudes surveys, Jones analyses the proportion of “existential” and “utilitarian” elements in the Scottish populace’s approach to Scottish and British nationhood, and discusses how these correlate with referendum voting. Miriam Schröder also deals with Scottish identities and self-perceptions. She discusses examples of how the nation has been narrated, in both negative and positive terms, and examines the implications of these nar- ratives for Scottish–English relations, attitudes on unionism and nation- alism, national confidence and national futures. In section III, “The Law and the Constitution”, William Elliot Bulmer charts differences between the constitutional traditions of Scotland and Westminster, for instance concerning the former’s emphasis on popular sovereignty. He traces the emergence of a modern Scottish constitutional tradition since the 1960s, showing how it has been shaped by earlier Scot- tish traditions and by modern international influences, especially from
| 171 études écossaises 18 the Nordic states, but also from other European countries, non-European Commonwealth states, and international human rights standards. At the same time, he identifies lingering influences from the Westminster model. This is complemented by Aileen McHarg’s case study of the specific role of referendums in changing the British constitutional tradition. Again stressing different perceptions of sovereignty (e.g. popular vs parliamen- tary), she also identifies three different perceptions of the British state and its territory: firstly, as a “unitary state” which, at least at first sight, fore- grounds the primacy of the Westminster Parliament’s rights over Holy- rood’s; secondly, as a “union state” where sovereignty primarily lies with the Union’s constituent nations; and thirdly, as a “quasi-federal state” based on shared sovereignty. She also analyses the role of these different models in debates about the 2014 referendum, and in Britain’s future. Section IV is concerned with “Scotland, Scottish Society, and Inde- pendence in Literature and Literary Studies”. Gerard Carruthers’s case study focuses on the reception of Robert Burns and on the initiatives which led to the establishment of the Chair of Scottish History and Lit- erature at Glasgow University in 1913. He relates this to a wider trend in Scottish literary criticism to produce ahistorical, essentialist, anglo centric, pessimistic, politically over-determined, and simplistic readings of Scottish literature. He argues that more carefully historicised readings can promote not only a more complex, but also a more positive perspec- tive on Scottish culture. Valentina Bold’s chapter discusses James Hogg’s The Brownie of Bodsbeck (1818). Set in the Covenanting period of the sev- enteenth century, it offers a strongly regional, localised take on national identity and on the violence of former intra-national conflicts. Bold also suggests that it offers lessons (e.g. on self-assertion and morality) for the nation during Hogg’s own time—and in ours. This localist emphasis is complemented by Ian Duncan’s chapter, which focuses more on inter- national dimensions, relating Hogg’s contemporary Walter Scott to the emergence of a concept of “world literature”. However, Scott’s interna- tional dimension does not necessarily imply an excessive endorsement of universalist norms; instead, there is also considerable emphasis on dif- ference, plurality, and alternative possibilities. Ian Campbell charts how various Scottish fiction writers have used “double vision” as a narrative strategy which gives the reader superior insight that transcends the more limited perspective of the characters. Used by John Galt, J. M. Barrie, Lewis Grassic Gibbon and others, this strategy has great potential for irony, satire, the charting of social change, and analytical reflection. This is also pertinent to the contemporary literary scene and its relationship to the independence debate. Margery Palmer McCulloch surveys the rela- tionship between modern Scottish writers and their country’s “coming
172 | recensions of age”, in both cultural and political terms, and with regard to local, national, as well as international frameworks. While placing special em- phasis on the period between the two World Wars, she also traces later developments, right up to Scott Hames’s 2012 collection Unstated: Writers on Scottish Independence. The final chapter of this section focuses on literary and cultural theory, as Kirsten Sandrock discusses the uses and abuses of postcolonial perspectives in Scottish Studies in general and the independ- ence debate in particular. Section V of the volume is entitled “Participation, Ethnic, and Socio- logical Views on Scotland: Engaged in the Creation of a New Scotland?”. Eberhard Bort focuses on the need to increase local democracy in Scot- land, at a sub-national level, an issue which has not been sufficiently addressed since devolution, neither by Westminster nor by Holyrood, and neither by unionists nor by the SNP. The seriousness of Scotland’s local democracy deficit is highlighted by comparative data on other European countries. Unitary constructions of nationhood can also create other problems, as Bashabi Fraser reminds us: such constructions often hinder the development of a progressive, flexible, pluralist and inclusive kind of national identity which is able to accommodate ethnic diversity. Fraser ponders these issues through the lens of her own positionality as a “New Scot” and a member of the South Asian diaspora, but also considers wider aspects of the complexities of belonging between local, national and transnational affiliations. She highlights the chances offered by a more inclusive concept of Scottishness and discusses cultural, educational and political strategies which might help to promote it. Personal position- ality features even more strongly in Deirdre Forsyth’s essay “Why I am Voting Yes”, where she reflects on the ways in which her background, her family’s involvement in Scottish politics, and her own experience of Scot- tish culture have shaped her political views. She also identifies various key areas of contemporary policy where independence could make a posi- tive difference. Zooming in on one particular policy area, namely social welfare, Gill Scott and Gerry Mooney’s chapter charts how devolution and the independence debate have become intertwined with discussions on social justice and the future of the welfare state—in Scotland and beyond. Roland Sturm’s chapter likewise stresses that the relevance of Scottish debates does not stop at Scotland’s borders. He discusses the role of Scotland as a “catalyst for constitutional change” across Britain as a whole. Sturm also considers future implications of the concepts of “devolution max” and “asymmetrical federalism”, as well as the problem of England’s position regarding devolution and independence. Well structured, well laid out, and easy to navigate, with abstracts prefaced to each chapter, a helpful index, and a very wide thematic and
| 173 études écossaises 18 disciplinary range, this volume is a highly useful compendium to various aspects of Scottish nationhood, its relationship to Britishness, devolution, the continuing independence debate, and its relevance to wider interna- tional discussions on regionalism, secession and social justice.
Cyril Besson Université Grenoble Alpes
Sarah Dunningan and Suzanne Gilbert (eds), The Edinburgh Companion to Scottish Traditional Literatures, Edinburgh, Edinburgh University Press, 2013, 216 p.
“Traditional literatures” is a rather elusive concept that has always been confronted to an intractable problem of definition. Because it comes into sharp contrast with printed literature and its “fixed” objects, the notion is confronted to instability at every step, from initial performance, through intergenerational transmission, to ultimate cultural relevance, making the concept a particularly slippery one, so much so that subsuming such varied components (ballad, romance, folk song…) under one label may at times seem futile. Attempts at a rationalization of the phenomenon are often unconvincing, as the purported reductionism of well-meaning authors tends to oversimplify and exclude the “genre’s” infinite variety, leading to a vision of things that, for being consistent, cannot but be incomplete. This is especially true when the sort of taxonomy emerges under special- ists’ pens that in the end identifies nothing but its own intrinsic prejudices. The editors of The Edinburgh Companion to Scottish Traditional Literatures have wisely decided to tackle the subject without resorting to excessive categorizing or theorizing, as their clear, precise, and thought-provoking introduction establishes, although this is no indication that every contrib- utor shies away from classification, as can be seen in the volume’s second chapter (“Genre”). The frustration with this approach is that a suspi- cion of nominalism may loom over the brand, “traditional literatures”, especially since historical record of the many variants of one ballad (all the more so its origins, and the phenomenon as a whole) is frequently spotty, leaving an impression that the researcher is fated, Danaides-like, to strive vainly for the bottom of things. This could have led the volume to indulge in the ambiguous pleasures of micro-history, with all the pit-
174 | recensions falls of that approach, but fortunately, throughout its chapters, the book never loses sight of its main focus: “to restore a more dynamic, inclusive and holistic understanding of the subject whilst working outwards from a core starting point of literary history” (p. 2). It might have benefitted from a clearer admission, or at least explanation, of some of its choices: for example, one cannot escape the feeling that performance theory as an analytical tool is somewhat hastily dismissed whenever it is mentioned, the reason for which is not really dwelt upon. The all-important con- cept of “tradition” (this “invention”, if we are to believe Hobsbawm) in the volume could perhaps have been developed more fully, and the insistence on diasporic transmission, made more of. In this respect, such propositions as the assertion that the Scottish Folk Revival is necessarily “distinct from the mass marketing of popular music” should at least be rationalized, for fear of being accused of partisanship. Also, although this writer is very much aware of the difficulties of dating “texts” and tracing their progress when there is no historical record except oral tra- dition, the modes of transmission (and possible deformations that they may have led to, at least in principle) should have been studied in greater detail (after all, the ideological tinge of the work of the early compilers does not escape the contributors’ scrutiny), as the reader can on occasion feel more informed but none the wiser. This outlining could have been attempted for example by tracing one ballad’s evolution, and would have given substance to a number of arguments that without this endeavor, feel a bit disembodied—although to be fair, these elements are discussed at several points in the book. The last drawback of the volume is that for a tome concerned with orality, there is very little effort paid to concretely deal with that dimension: the reader would like nothing better than to participate in the communal spirit of oral tradition, but when music is present only through transcribed musical scores, and some contributors occasionally indulge in the succession of endless lists of titles known only to specialists (the appeal of erudition has its limits), one cannot but feel that there must have been ways to flesh out the object of study a bit more: online resources are recommended p. 25, but why was a database of copyright-free material (surely a number of ballads and songs are in the public domain?) not created to accompany the volume? All these reservations, however, amount to nit-picking when compared to the excellence of the research displayed in the pages of the book, and the involvement, the fervor, even, of everyone concerned. In addition to being serious academic work, this is a pleasant read that will come to be an indispensible resource for students not just of “traditional” literature, but of literature in general, and of its socio-historical import.
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Pierre Carboni Université de Nantes
Pierre Morère, Sens et sensibilité : pensée et poésie dans la Grande-Bretagne des Lumières, coédition ELLUG-PUL, collection « Esthétique et représenta- tion : monde anglophone (1750-1900) », Lyon, Presses universitaires de Lyon, 2015, 340 p.
Pierre Morère, professeur émérite à l’université Stendhal - Grenoble 3 et spécialiste de littérature et d’histoire des idées du xviiie siècle en Grande- Bretagne, propose ici un excellent ouvrage, à la fois riche et concis, construit en quatre chapitres équilibrés faisant suite à des prolégomènes, qui explore avec clarté et profondeur les liens unissant la pensée des Lumières et la poésie anglophone. À partir d’une analyse serrée de la fausse antinomie du sens et de la sensibilité immortalisée par le titre original du premier roman publié de Jane Austen, l’auteur démontre que, contrairement à ce que tendrait à suggérer la traduction française historique d’Isabelle de Montolieu, Raison et sensibilité, la pensée ration- nelle et l’imagination procèdent des qualités d’un seul et même entende- ment humain. En s’appuyant sur l’anthropologie des Lumières, de Locke à Reid, en passant par Shaftesbury et ses interprètes écossais, élèves de Hutcheson, Berkeley et Burke, Pierre Morère souligne le caractère déter- minant des théories sensualistes dans le regain d’intérêt manifesté outre- Manche pour la poésie entre 1688 et 1815. L’étude de Pierre Morère ne se cantonne pas au domaine de l’histoire des idées ou de la philosophie. Elle dessine un très beau panorama d’his- toire littéraire, établissant la profonde unité, au-delà des inflexions par- ticulières, de la production poétique britannique de la Restauration au premier Romantisme. De nombreux passages des œuvres de Lady Win- chilsea, Akenside, Pope, Thomson, Gray, Collins, Christopher Smart, Parnell, Thomas et Joseph Warton, Young, Blake, Burns et, pour finir, Wordsworth, traduits par l’auteur, y sont finement analysés et s’éclairent de sens suivant la perspective adoptée. On trouve là des éléments d’his- toire littéraire, au sens noble du terme, qui pourront être précieux à qui- conque s’intéresse au domaine littéraire dans la période considérée. La démarche adoptée ne s’en tient pas aux poncifs historico-biographiques qui ont contribué à dévaloriser l’histoire littéraire, mais présente une étude critique des œuvres, toujours dynamique et stimulante, appuyée sur une parfaite connaissance des textes. Même lorsqu’il aborde des notions qu’on croirait plus familières comme l’imagination, le sublime, la nature
176 | recensions dans les poèmes, Pierre Morère, sans jamais schématiser la pensée, les redéfinit avant de les appliquer très directement et très concrètement à l’interprétation des œuvres. Le propos a beau être scientifique, l’écriture est toujours limpide et se tient à distance de tout jargon. Outre sa composante d’histoire des idées et d’histoire littéraire, l’ou- vrage présente l’intérêt supplémentaire de présenter une histoire des théories poétiques qui, de Pope à Wordsworth en passant par Johnson, marquent des évolutions, parfois des ruptures, dans la réception de la poésie en Grande-Bretagne. Les trois étapes fondamentales qu’identifie Pierre Morère scandent une belle synthèse, qui, comme dans les deux autres domaines, clarifie sans jamais schématiser. L’étude que propose ici Pierre Morère est le fruit d’une réflexion per- sonnelle sur la place, le statut et les enjeux de la poésie au sein de l’histoire des idées britanniques, mais elle s’appuie sur une solide bibliographie proposée en fin d’ouvrage. Elle est complétée par deux index, l’un des auteurs et des œuvres, l’autre des notions abordées. On ne peut que recommander la lecture de cet ouvrage à quiconque s’intéresse de près ou de loin à la poésie et à l’anthropologie des Lumières. L’ouvrage est un guide précieux, qui rassurera le néophyte, mais il n’en reste pas moins pertinent pour quiconque est déjà familier des œuvres et de leur contexte. Il intéressera aussi bien l’étudiant que le chercheur, l’angliciste que l’his- torien, le philosophe ou le lecteur de poésie. La longue conversation établie par Pierre Morère avec les poètes et les penseurs du xviiie siècle trouve dans cet ouvrage un aperçu limpide et riche d’enseignements qui invitera chaque lecteur à retourner aux textes en faisant dialoguer à son tour sens et sensibilité.
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Résumés / Abstracts
[p. 11] The Impact of Scotland’s Prospective Membership of the EU on the 2014 Referendum Debate: Concerns over Borders Carine Berbéri
Since the late 1980s, the SNP has tried to use EU membership to pro- mote independence. In the early 1990s this was strengthened by the Maastricht Treaty which introduced the subsidiarity principle, allowing Scotland to bypass the British State thanks to the concept of multi-level governance. Nevertheless, the promise of EU membership did not always make things easier for the SNP. It aroused many concerns about the evo- lution of borders in the advent of an independent Scotland which would be part of the EU. Three main questions were raised: would Scotland be required to join the Schengen Area as a condition of EU membership? Would it be able to remain part of the Common Travel Area (CTA)? Would it be able to manage its borders? Scotland’s prospective EU mem- bership gave rise to much uncertainty and increased some of the fears linked to the prospect of Scotland becoming an independent country. This paper will consequently examine how the concerns about Scotland’s independence and its prospective EU membership were intertwined and impacted upon the referendum debate as far as borders were concerned. I will focus on the problem raised by a possible requirement for Scotland to join the Schengen Area as part of EU membership. I will also examine the concerns aroused by these issues during the referendum debate, ana- lysing the main arguments used by the nationalists and the pro-Union side. Finally, I will try to assess to what extent these concerns were justified.
L’impact de la future adhésion de l’Écosse à l’UE lors du débat référendaire de 2014 : une source d’inquiétude concernant l’évolution des frontières Depuis la fin des années 1980, le SNP a tenté d’utiliser la question euro- péenne pour promouvoir l’indépendance. Il a été encouragé à pour- suivre dans cette direction durant les années 1990 : le traité de Maastricht, qui a introduit le principe de subsidiarité, permettait effectivement à l’Écosse de contourner l’État britannique au sein d’une « gouvernance multi-niveaux ». Pourtant, l’UE n’a pas toujours facilité la tâche du SNP.
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En témoigne la campagne du dernier référendum sur l’indépendance écossaise de 2014, durant laquelle la question de la future adhésion de l’Écosse à l’UE a suscité diverses interrogations quant à l’évolution de ses frontières : une Écosse indépendante serait-elle contrainte d’adhérer à la zone Schengen si elle voulait rester membre de l’UE ? Pourrait-elle continuer à faire partie de la zone de circulation commune ? Pourrait-elle contrôler ses frontières ? La future adhésion de l’Écosse à l’UE a engendré diverses inquiétudes, amplifiant les craintes déjà suscitées par la perspec- tive d’une Écosse indépendante. Dans cet article, nous expliquerons donc dans quelle mesure les inquiétudes relatives à l’indépendance de l’Écosse et à sa future adhésion à l’UE étaient liées et nous examinerons leurs effets sur le débat référendaire. Nous nous concentrerons sur la question des frontières et notamment sur le problème soulevé par une éventuelle adhésion forcée de l’Écosse à la zone Schengen. Nous étudierons aussi les craintes exprimées à cette occasion et les principaux arguments mis en avant par les camps nationaliste et unioniste. Enfin, nous tenterons de déterminer dans quelle mesure ces craintes étaient justifiées.
[p. 29] Civic Borders and Imagined Communities: Continuity and Change in Scotland’s Municipal Boundaries, Jurisdictions and Structures — from Nineteenth-Century “General Police” to Twenty First-Century “Community Empowerment” Michael Pugh
The roles and status of Scotland’s municipalities are perennially contested and contingent, but contributed disproportionately to national identity in the “stateless nation” of 1707–1999 (McCrone, 1992; McGarvey, 2014). This article considers Scottish municipal development over time, using Benedict Anderson’s “imagined community”, “simultaneity”, and the approach of historical institutionalism (1983: passim). It traces the emer- gence of modern municipal structures in the nineteenth-century under successive “General Police” Acts, informed by the ethos of local self- government. It next examines the role of community identity versus com- munity of interest in municipal consolidations and boundary disputes, as the ideological winds shifted towards municipal socialism, progres- sivism and economies of scale. The analysis turns to twentieth-century local government reorganisations, as UK governments of different polit- ical hues grappled with questions of subsidiarity, efficiency and demo- cratic representation. The post-devolution and Scottish Referendum context of debates around “community empowerment” legislation are considered finally, in an historical context.
180 | résumés
Frontières civiques et communautés imaginées : continuité et changement dans les frontières municipales, juridictions et structures écossaises entre le xixe et le xxie siècles Le rôle et le statut des municipalités écossaises sont contingents et régu lièrement remis en cause. Ces institutions ont pourtant contribué de ma- nière disproportionnée à l’identité nationale de cet « État sans nation » entre 1707 et 1999 (McCrone, 1992 ; McGarvey, 2014). Cet article consi- dère l’évolution des municipalités écossaises, en s’appuyant sur les notions de « communauté imaginée », de « simultanéité » et d’« institutionnalisme historique » développées chez Benedict Anderson (1983). Il s’agira d’exa- miner l’émergence de structures municipales modernes au xixe siècle sui- vant l’introduction de lois successives concernant l’administration des municipalités (General Police Acts) qui s’inspiraient d’une logique d’auto- nomie locale. Seront ensuite comparés les concepts d’« identité commu- nautaire » et de « communauté d’intérêt » dans le cadre de consolidations municipales et de disputes de frontières, à une époque où l’idéologie dominante tendait vers le socialisme municipal, le progressisme et l’éco- nomie d’échelle. Puis nous examinerons les réorganisations territoriales qui eurent lieu au xxe siècle, à un moment où des gouvernements britan- niques, de gauche comme de droite, tentaient d’apporter des solutions aux questions de subsidiarité, d’efficacité et de représentation démocra- tique. Enfin, le contexte historique postérieur à la mise en place de la dévolution et au référendum sur l’indépendance écossaise sera étudié afin de resituer les débats concernant les projets de lois visant à rendre aux communautés le pouvoir d’agir en autonomie.
[p. 51] Territorialité politique, nationalisme et traversées constitutionnelles en Écosse Arnaud Fiasson
Cet article propose d’examiner la nature de l’idéologie nationaliste prônée par le SNP à la lumière du concept de territorialité. En effet, le processus de dévolution législative, qui représente une traversée de la frontière anglo- écossaise aussi bien sur le plan constitutionnel que sur le plan géogra- phique, a doté l’Écosse d’une arène institutionnelle qui lui est propre. Nous arguons que le Scotland Act 1998, texte fondateur du parlement écossais, a permis la création d’un territoire politique auquel le SNP est parvenu à s’adapter en vue d’avancer son agenda indépendantiste. Les élections législatives écossaises de 2007 et de 2011, qui se sont traduites par la montée au pouvoir du SNP, témoignent d’une évolution majeure de l’histoire politique de l’Écosse. Qualifiés d’historiques, ces élections ont souligné l’influence du parti indépendantiste qui parvint à matérialiser
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sa stratégie référendaire le 18 septembre 2014. Bien que le référendum se soit soldé par l’échec du camp nationaliste, nous montrons que la territorialisation de l’espace politique écossais s’est renforcée pendant la campagne référendaire et qu’elle reste susceptible d’initier de nouvelles traversées constitutionnelles en faveur d’un accroissement de l’autonomie politique dont jouit l’Écosse depuis 1999.
Territoriality, Nationalism and Constitutional Crossings This paper intends to explore the nature of the nationalist ideology pro- moted by the SNP in light of the concept of territoriality. Indeed, the process of legislative devolution, which is representative of a crossing of the Anglo-Scottish border at constitutional as well as geographical levels, endowed Scotland with an institutional arena of its own. We argue that the Scotland Act 1998—the founding text of the Scottish Parliament— created a Scottish political territory the SNP has managed to adapt to in order to put forward its independence agenda. The 2007 and 2011 Scottish Parliamentary elections, which saw the rise of the SNP to power, symbolised a major development in Scottish political history. Qualified as a historic event, they marked the growing influence of the SNP who were able to bring about the independence referendum on 18 September 2014. Even though the Nationalists failed to win the day, this paper shows that the territorialisation of the Scottish political space, which was strength- ened by the referendum campaign, may lead to further constitutional crossings and consequently increase the political autonomy Scotland has enjoyed since 1999.
[p. 69] The Homecoming of Tartan: How Scotland and North America Collaborate in Shaping Tartan Lauren Anne-Killian Brancaz
For many diaspora Scots, Scotland has remained the ancestral land, the home to which they could potentially return, and from which their iden- tities originated. Through familiar spiritual, educational, and cultural beacons, diaspora Scots have often recreated a Scotland of the mind helping them maintain their Scottish heritage and cope with their new environments. This looking back to Scotland has been described by his- torians as “Homeland Orientation”. This article demonstrates, through a case study on tartan, that the relationships between the homeland and its diaspora are not unidirectional since Scotland and North America have established a bilateral partnership in that field over the last decades. Scotland’s recent positive re-assessment of tartan by academics and politi cians alike has to some extent been made possible thanks to the support of North America.
182 | résumés
Le retour du tartan au pays : comment l’Écosse et l’Amérique du Nord coopèrent à l’élaboration du tartan Pour la diaspora écossaise, l’Écosse reste la terre ancestrale, le foyer auprès duquel elle pourrait éventuellement retourner un jour, celui qui a donné naissance à ses identités. Grâce à des points d’ancrage spirituels, éduca- tionnels et culturels familiers, la diaspora écossaise a recréé une Écosse de l’esprit lui permettant de préserver son héritage écossais dans un nouvel environnement. Ce regard tourné vers l’Écosse a été qualifié par les histo- riens de Homeland Orientation. Cet article démontre, par une étude de cas sur le tartan, que les relations entre la terre mère et sa diaspora ne sont pas unidirectionnelles, puisque l’Écosse et l’Amérique du Nord ont établi un partenariat bilatéral dans ce domaine au cours des dernières décen- nies. La récente réévaluation positive du tartan par les universitaires et les politiciens de l’Écosse a en partie été rendue possible grâce au soutien de l’Amérique du Nord.
[p. 89] Loss, Diaspora, Displacement, and Parentage in Alistair MacLeodʼs No Great Mischief Aislinn McDougall
Alistair MacLeod’s No Great Mischief is a novel about family, history, clan bonds and the preservation of Scottish tradition and history by Scottish immigrants in Cape Breton, Canada. Spanning over two centuries, nar- rator Alexander MacDonald’s family history maps out the generational effects of the Scottish diaspora on the extended clan, clann Chalum Ruaidh, including loss of land, language, music, and clan members. Clann Calum Ruaidh becomes dispersed within Canada itself, although it is never spirit- ually divided as kinship bonds are repetitively enforced, and its members remain, as Lily Cho writes of diasporic communities, “connected by a sense of a homeland” (2007, p. 12). Yet while the novel is about familial relationships during a lifetime of cultural preservation in a new country, what ultimately haunts the text is significant loss of parentage. If the dias- poric experience means to be “marked by loss”, as Cho suggests (2007, p. 19), then Alexander and the various members of clann Chalum Ruaidh are undoubtedly diasporic subjects. The novel is shaped by familial loss and the characters as products of the Scottish diaspora are challenged to preserve their Scottish traditions, language, lore and sense of the home- land in Canada in and amidst these tragedies. Throughout the text, the diasporic experience is manifested in the deaths of the parents of cen- tral characters such as Alexander, Catherine, Calum, the initial children of Calum Ruadh, and Grandfather MacDonald. While parentage is a means with which these characters connect to Scotland and Scottish
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tradition, the preservation process is hindered by the deaths of parents in clann Chalum Ruaidh. The mother and father figures in the clan function as the closest ties to the Scottish homeland generationally and genealog- ically, and as they disappear, these ties to homeland and history become obscured, and the children of the clan, displaced.
Perte, diaspora, déplacement et parenté dans No Great Mischief d’Alistair MacLeod Le roman No Great Mischief d’Alistair MacLeod prend pour thème les liens familiaux, historiques et claniques ainsi que la préservation de la tradition et de l’histoire écossaises chez les immigrants de Cap Breton, au Canada. Couvrant plus de deux siècles, l’histoire familiale du narra- teur, Alexander MacDonald, retrace les effets générationnels de la dias- pora écossaise sur le clan « étendu », « clann Chalum Ruaidh », y compris la perte de ses terres, de sa langue, de sa musique et la dispersion de ses membres. « Clann Calum Ruaidh » se dissémine dans le Canada lui‑même, bien que jamais il ne soit divisé en esprit, dans la mesure où les liens de parenté se voient réaffirmés de manière répétée, et parce que ses membres demeurent, ainsi que Lily Cho l’écrit des commu- nautés diasporiques, « reliés par un sens de la patrie » (2007, p. 12). Pour- tant, bien que le roman traite de relations familiales sur une génération entière consacrée à la préservation culturelle dans un pays nouveau, c’est la perte de parenté qui en définitive hante l’ouvrage. Si l’expérience diasporique signifie que l’on est « marqué par la perte », comme le sug- gère Cho (2007, p. 19), alors Alexander et les divers membres du « clann Chalum Ruaidh » sont sans nul doute des sujets diasporiques. Le roman est informé par la perte des liens familiaux et les personnages, produits de la diaspora écossaise, se voient en terre canadienne mis au défi de pré- server leurs traditions, langage, folklore et sens de la patrie typiquement écossais, au milieu de diverses tragédies. Dans tout le texte, l’expérience diasporique se manifeste à travers les décès des parents des personnages centraux, Alexander, Catherine, Calum, les premiers enfants de Calum Ruadh, et du grand-père MacDonald. Si la parenté est un moyen de relier ces personnages à l’Écosse et à la tradition écossaise, le processus de préservation est mis à mal par le décès des parents du « clann Chalum Ruaidh ». Les figures paternelles et maternelles du clan incarnent les liens générationnels et généalogiques les plus forts vis-à-vis de la patrie écos- saise, et lorsqu’ils disparaissent, ces liens à la patrie et à l’histoire se font obscurs, et les enfants du clan deviennent des expatriés.
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[p. 107] La transgression du dogme du laissez-faire : l’intervention du gouvernement britannique dans les Hautes Terres d’Écosse en 1846-1847 Christian Auer
Quand, un an après l’Irlande, en 1846, la pomme de terre des Hautes Terres d’Écosse fut à son tour victime du mildiou, le gouvernement bri- tannique se trouva placé devant une série de dilemmes. Comment venir au secours de citoyens menacés par la famine, tout en restant fidèle aux principes du laissez-faire économique et sans perturber l’équilibre de l’économie de marché ? Comment éviter que l’aide apportée aux paysans n’encourage l’assistanat et ne se transforme en incitation à la paresse ? Le dispositif qui fut mis en place à la fin de l’année 1846 et qui se concrétisa par l’installation de deux dépôts de farine, l’un à Portree, dans l’île de Skye, et l’autre à Tobermory, dans l’île de Mull, témoigna de la volonté du gouvernement d’éviter une catastrophe comparable à celle que venait de connaître l’Irlande. Charles Trevelyan, le fonctionnaire chargé de la mise en place du dispositif, insista sur le fait qu’il était hors de question de laisser les habitants des Highlands mourir de faim. Cet article a comme ambition de montrer que cette intervention gouvernementale dans le champ de l’économie se situa en rupture totale avec le dogme du laissez- faire, fondement essentiel de l’ère victorienne. Nombreux étaient ceux, en effet, qui, à l’époque, estimaient que l’économie s’articulait autour de principes d’autorégulation : l’intervention gouvernementale était censée se limiter à la protection des citoyens de toute agression intérieure ou extérieure.
The Transgression of the Laissez-Faire Dogma: The Intervention of the British Government in the Highlands of Scotland in 1846–1847 When, one year after Ireland, in 1846, the potato crop of the High- lands of Scotland completely failed, the British government was faced with a series of dilemmas: how to help the people threatened by famine while remaining faithful to the principles of laissez-faire economics and without affecting the market economy? How to intervene without risking of creating a long-term scheme of assistance and without encouraging people to become indolent? The scheme that was implemented at the end of 1846 with the installation of meal depots in Portree on the isle of Skye and in Tobermory on the isle of Mull demonstrates that the gov- ernment tried to avoid a catastrophe similar to the one that was taking place in Ireland. As Charles Trevelyan, the civil servant in charge of the governmental scheme, insisted on the fact that it was out of the question to let the Highlanders starve. This article aims to show that this example of governmental intervention in a market-based economy was in total
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contradiction with the dogma of laissez-faire especially at a time when most of the policy makers and economists thought that the government should not intervene in the economy.
[p. 119] Le thème du travail agricole dans les tableaux des Glasgow Boys, ou l’Écosse selon des peintres victoriens Marion Amblard
À partir des années 1880, un groupe de peintres occupa le devant de la scène artistique en Écosse. Connus sous le nom de Glasgow Boys, ces artistes réalisèrent des tableaux en réaction aux toiles de leurs contem- porains qui étaient exposées à la Royal Scottish Academy. Cet article se propose de démontrer que le thème du travail occupe une place majeure dans la peinture des Glasgow Boys et que leur préférence marquée pour les vues des Lowlands et le travail des ouvriers agricoles de la région ne témoigne pas seulement de leur volonté de représenter des sujets sem- blables à ceux dont s’inspiraient les peintres réalistes et naturalistes du continent. Une étude de quelques tableaux permettra de constater qu’ils s’insurgèrent contre l’image de l’Écosse véhiculée par les œuvres des membres de la Royal Scottish Academy et qu’ils ont voulu représenter l’Écosse comme une terre d’industrie, où le travail compte parmi les qualités fondatrices de l’identité écossaise.
Farm Work in the Glasgow Boys’ Paintings or Scotland As Seen by a Group of Victorian Painters From the 1880s a group of painters was at the forefront of the Scottish art scene. Known as the Glasgow Boys, these artists executed paintings in defiance of the works painted by the Royal Scottish Academicians. This article aims at showing that work was one of the Glasgow Boys’ favourite subjects and that their marked preference for Lowland scenery and scenes depicting Lowland farm labourers at work does not only show that they wanted to paint subjects comparable to that of the continental realist and naturalist painters. With a study of a few paintings we will notice that they rejected the way Scotland was depicted in the works of the Royal Scottish academicians and that they wanted to represent Scot- land as a land of industry where work is one of the core values of Scottish identity.
186 | résumés
[p. 133] Popular Music and Left-Wing Scottishness Jeremy Tranmer
Recent developments in Scottish politics, such as the Scottish National Party’s resounding victory in the 2015 general election, would seem to attest to the existence of a strong sense of national identity underpinned by progressive values. This paper will suggest that popular music has played a significant role in the emergence of left-wing Scottishness. It will concentrate on the late 1980s, a key period of political change in Scot- land when Margaret Thatcher’s Conservatives were increasingly margin- alised, doubts were expressed about the direction of the Labour Party, and demands for devolution were growing. It will focus on two groups in particular—Runrig and the Proclaimers. Although groups in the 1970s and early 1980s, including the Bay City Rollers and Big Country, had tried to bring together aspects of Scottish identity and popular music, they tended to resort to invented traditions. Based on the theories of soci- ologists of rock according to which the meaning of music comes from its lyrics, sound and performance, this paper will argue that Runrig and the Proclaimers conveyed a contemporary left-wing version of Scottishness. Both groups not only reflected trends in Scottish society but also contrib- uted to shaping them due to the large audience of young people that they attracted.
Musique populaire et scotticité de gauche Les dernières évolutions de la politique en Écosse, telles que la victoire retentissante du parti national écossais aux élections législatives de 2015, semblent témoigner de l’existence d’un fort sentiment d’identité natio- nale s’appuyant sur des valeurs progressistes. Cet article suggère que la musique populaire a joué un rôle significatif dans l’émergence d’une scot- ticité de gauche. Il se concentre sur la fin des années 1980, période clé de changements politiques pendant laquelle les conservateurs de Margaret Thatcher furent de plus en plus marginalisés, des doutes furent exprimés à l’égard de l’orientation politique suivie par le parti travailliste, et une revendication pour l’autonomie de l’Écosse se fit entendre. Il s’intéresse à deux groupes en particulier, Runrig et les Proclaimers. Bien que cer- tains groupes, parmi lesquels les Bay City Rollers ou Big Country, aient tenté à la fin des années 1970 et au début des années 1980 de tisser des liens entre musique populaire et certains aspects de l’identité écossaise, ils eurent tendance à recourir à des traditions inventées. S’appuyant sur les théories de sociologues spécialistes de la musique rock selon lesquelles le sens d’une chanson provient à la fois de ses paroles, du son, et de la pres- tation que son interprète en fait, cet article avance l’idée que Runrig et les Proclaimers ont véhiculé une variante contemporaine et de gauche de
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la scotticité. Ces deux groupes se sont non seulement fait l’écho de ten- dances présentes dans la société écossaise mais ont également contribué à les façonner en raison de leur réussite commerciale.
[p. 151] Renegotiating Scottish Nationalism after the 2014 Independence Referendum Emerence Hild
The discourse of pro-independence supporters and Unionists during the pre-referendum campaign in Scotland has revealed subtle, though impor- tant, differences in their visions of Scottish and British identities. The analysis of leading political figures’ speeches, televised debates, interviews but also campaign ads or web infographics can be used to show the spe- cificities of campaigners’ patriotic and nationalistic rhetoric and to see to what extent it complied with or differed from the traditional civic vision of Scottish national identity put forward by political elites. Such analysis can also bring to light the limits of nationalism as a tool for the promo- tion of a political agenda. This article therefore aims to offer a different approach of Scottish and British identities so as to highlight the diversity and complexity of identity issues in contemporary Scotland and Britain.
Le nationalisme écossais à l’épreuve du référendum d’autodétermination Le discours politique tenu par les partisans du oui et du non lors de la campagne préréférendaire de 2012 à 2014 en Écosse a permis de mettre en valeur des différences subtiles, quoique révélatrices, quant à leurs vi- sions des identités écossaises et britanniques. L’analyse de diverses pro- ductions de campagne (discours, débats télévisés, affiches ou contenus infographiques) laisse apparaître une rhétorique patriote et nationaliste particulière, voire plurielle, qui renvoie de manière plus ou moins mar- quée à la notion traditionnellement mise en avant par les élites politiques écossaises d’un nationalisme dit civique. Une telle analyse permet égale- ment de souligner les limites imputables à toute forme de nationalisme destiné seulement à promouvoir la mise en œuvre de visées politiques. Cet article s’emploie à offrir une approche repensée des identités écos- saises et britanniques, dans le but de rendre compte de la complexité et de la diversité des questionnements liés aux problèmes identitaires en Écosse et en Grande Bretagne aujourd’hui.
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