Not long now. In a fortnight we’ll know whether we’re in or out, yes or no, back to normal (ish) or beginning the end (or beginning depending on how you view it).
The Scottish Independence Referendum is just around the corner. You might have noticed.
In a field not far from us over the past week, much of the debate has been encapsulated by some sign shenanigans observed from the car as I whizzed past.
- One day a No sign appeared, nailed to a wooden frame.
- The next day, the No sign was in bits, the frame all splintered.
- In the morning the sign was back – more nails.
- By the following dawn it was down again. In a cow pat.
- On the final day No was re-installed on a new frame, in a ditch, behind a fence.
- It’s still there… for now.
This is the only situation where all this referendum stuff has led to fence building. It has, however, been an education. Here’s what I learned:
Shouting is not a replacement for meaningful discussion – though some people evidently think so. There have been a couple of TV debates between Alex Salmond and Alistair Darling. The most outstanding feature of these bouts was the level of shouting, talking over each other and hectoring. When my children communicate like this, I send them to their rooms.
Conflict makes me anxious. Not actually a new thing, but given how easily and quickly heat is being drawn on the topic of the referendum, one that’s been easy to observe and consider.
Politics can get interesting. Honest. We all know that government is important but most of us just can’t be bothered with much of it. Sure, we read the headlines and recognise the players but after a bit… yawn. At the moment though there’s hardly a lunch queue, a bus stop, a bar, a taxi or waiting room that isn’t full of the issues. We’re interested and we care and that doesn’t happen very often. You’d even call it a buzz. I wonder if it will continue.
But independence isn’t a political thing. It’s not about who’s in charge of which party or even which party is in charge. In or out of the UK is a constitutional matter.
Feelings about identity and roots are important. From my vantage point on the fence of indecision much of the debate is charged by who and what people believe they are. I’m a northern Brit from the area around the border between England and Scotland. My ancestors were probably Reivers.
Feelings about security and money are important. Still up here getting splinters in my bum. How much I’ll earn, what will the interest rates be, how safe is my job, his job, and so on? What will it be like for our kids? Boring, grown-up considerations, but the kind of thing that wakes middle-aged folk up in the night.
No one knows exactly how things will be in the event of Yes. One more time for the hard of thinking – no one knows what will happen with currencies, EU membership, border crossings, the BBC, the armed forces and the national debt. All a Yes vote means for certain is that negotiations can start.
We all know there will be lots of chaos, noise and cost in the event of a Yes. Imagine the most ferocious divorce ever where both parties has more stuff to separate than anyone know, huge teams of lawyers know they could be earning enough to retire on and hundreds and hundreds of interferring aunts, grannies, best mates and people in the supermarket keep butting in with their opinions. That’s only part of how it’s going to be. And no one’s going to remember to think of the kids.The question is whether you think it’s worth it or not.
No one knows exactly what opportunities would be missed in the event of a No. Except there will be some. A deflating sense of letting the One get away will infect everyone for quite a long time.
The excitement and passion of a wonderful new future are very tempting. Think – it’ll be wonderful and bright. There will be fairness and opportunity. Wealth and pride. It’s a bit like the flights of fantasy you’re inspired to by the better roomsets in Ikea. Hours later with a pulled muscle from trying to get a flatpack sideboard into a Ford Focus and screwdriver blisters on your palms, you realise the new wardrobe doesn’t quite fill the space you thought it would. Then you stub your toe on the old furniture you haven’t got round to taking to the dump yet. But your looks much better, doesn’t it?
Agreeing to differ is harder than it should be. Either there’s an unspoken arrangement never to mention it, or there isn’t. And where there isn’t someone – or everyone – will feel sore and sorry that someone brought it up.
It would be lovely if the grown-ups would arrive and take charge. This is a big deal, what happens in less than a fortnight will have repercussions for generations. It’s like history, but, for once, the outcome is down to us. I wonder how many other people would like older wiser people (certainly not politicians) to turn up and tell us what to do.
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0flxQCmb5oY]
Debbie says
The thing I've learned most is that some people adopt a position and stick to it regardless of little things like evidence. They will pick up on things others say which back up their position and repeat them until they bear no relation to the actual situation. Example – It was revealed that Alistair Darling had been paid to give a speech to some organisation or company who have an interest in NHS privatisation. I don't think he should have done that. But this grew to the extent that it is now an internet truth that he has massive investments and holdings in said organisation. This morning, a lot of people have read a Daily Mail headline saying Miliband would bring in border guards (doesn't that sound quasi-military?) in the event of a Yes vote. Very few people looked beyond the inflammatory headline to find a very anodyne statement that he would “have to look at” having border checkpoints. I find myself wishing that you could ban people from the vote if they are proven to have commented on stories when they have only read the headline. Particularly when reading the Daily Mail.
As someone else whose ancestry is almost certainly of the mongrel Borders variety, I share your pain. And the splinters in the bum.
Donna@MummyCentral says
I too hate conflict.
But I've learned that the majority of the public will say they respect everyone's views – while getting in a little dig at those who oppose what they think. It's been driving me crazy and I'm seriously thinking of just switching off Facebook for the next fortnight, because I find myself having to point out the hypocrisy of what they're doing, which leads to all sorts of arguments.
There was the woman the other day who said she respected both sides – then made it clear she had seen abuse and nastiness ONLY from the opposing campaign, and NOTHING from the side she supported. Pffft.
I've made my decision and I'm comfortable with it – with no urge to recruit anyone to my way of thinking. I just wish we could all vote tomorrow, get the result, and then get on with making Scotland the best it can be – Independent or otherwise.
Ellen Arnison says
I like your idea of ignorant commentators being banned from voting. The mail bag of Sunday Newspaper whose office I occasionally attend is bursting at the seams with letters for the first time in decades.
Ellen Arnison says
I know Donna, and it's not going to get any nicer as the time passes.
Tanya Leary says
It is a really difficult one isn't it. I think Scotland is a really beautiful place with a really rich history and would hate it to separate from the UK as a whole but, whichever way it goes, it will remain on my favourite holiday destinations. xx
Ellen Arnison says
It is hard but I'm coming down on the No side.
Mary Hardie says
Brilliant! Reflects a lot of what I feel too. I'm having sleepless nights about employment, tax etc., Would we have to move, what about my elderly mother and so on. There's too much uncertainty on the yes side and doubters just seem to be dismissed like the lack the vision to see that everything is possible with a positive mindset. Also, it is so divisive – I've muted people on twitter and facebook because I just can't stand it. Also, if there's a yes vote, who is the unifying figure who will speak for those who voted to stay in the union? Alex Massie (@alexmassie) has written a brilliant blog on the ref and covers lots of stuff including the could versus the should and what it means to be British. I'm also coming down on the no side – though I still flip and flop but in the end, there's too much at stake. By the way, my forebearers were also reivers!
Ellen Arnison says
Thanks. I'll check out the Alex Massie blog. If you're ever in Carlisle, Tullie House Museum has an excellent exhibition on the Reivers.
Mary Hardie says
Yes, and Carol Craig in the Scottish Review – quite long but good analysis of the snp campaign. Will definitely look out for the Tullie House Museum – pass through Carlisle quite a lot.
Anonymous says
I'm feeling that the wave of optimism that people are emjoying isn't to do with the excitement of starting a new nation, but a two-fingers to the Tories. But hello, people! That two-fingers will have consequences for generations. When Scotland is fighting to survive economically, and is missing all the benefits of being part of a larger union, then the triumphant two-fingers might feel a bit hollow.
A friend of mine saw No signs burnt by the side of the road.
I think a close vote is the worst outcome. So many people will be disappointed, frustrated, sad, angry. There won't be a clear mandate for whoever wins. But it looks like a close vote is the likely outcome.
Anonymous says
That anon comment was Iota, by the way. So frustrating, but I keep heading into people's spam filters. Why have I been blacklisted in this way?!
Ellen Arnison says
I agree. And if there's a Yes vote, many people will be startled to find there are home-grown Tories in Scotland too.
Ellen Arnison says
No idea, but glad you persisted.
Susan Mann says
I've always known which side I'm on, but it's been interesting to hear what both sides have to say. If neither are particularly clear cut. I like to know facts and I don't feel we have been given them. x