What happens if England votes no and Scotland votes yes to the EU?

If England pulls Scotland out of the EU against its will, the independence cause could be re-energised.

In the next five years, Scotland could be holding two referenda on its relationship within two unions. First, the Scottish people will determine their fate within the United Kingdom when they vote on independence in 2014. If they vote to remain within the UK then they could possibly be voting in a second referendum on Britain’s membership of the EU. Polling trends indicate that Scotland will choose to stay within the UK. Polls on Britain staying within the EU, however, are showing mixed results. A more in-depth look shows Scotland and England are much divided on continuing EU membership. If a referendum is held a possible scenario could see England pull an unwilling Scotland out of Europe.  If this does happen could it be the catalyst for a second wave of Scottish nationalism?

Last weekend, polling commissioned by the FT showed that convincing the British public to support EU membership could be an uphill struggle. Were an in-out referendum held tomorrow, 50 per cent would vote to leave, with only 33 per cent opting to stay in. Meanwhile, ahead of the independence referendum, Alex Salmond has placed much emphasis on an independent Scotland joining the EU. It seems rather unusual that a politician in Britain is using Europe in an attempt to attract voters. The issue of European membership, however, isn’t as toxic in Scotland as it is in England. A second poll conducted at a similar time by Ipsos-Mori on Scottish attitudes towards an EU referendum shows that, while not overly enthusiastic about Europe, the Scottish seem to be less eurosceptic than the rest of Britain. Roughly 50 per cent of those polled said they’d vote to remain within the EU, while 34 per cent would vote to leave – the inverse of the FT’s poll of the entire British public. Given such evidence it isn’t inconceivable to think that if an EU in-out referendum does happen, Scotland could vote to stay in, while the rest of Britain votes to leave. But even if the Scottish become less enthusiastic about continuing EU membership, how easily could the English – along with Wales and Northern Ireland – pull Scotland out of Europe?

Using the 2011 AV referendum turnout figures as a proxy for a potential EU membership referendum, we can see that the Scottish only make up about 1 in 10 voters in the British electorate. The English, with their overwhelming voter power, won’t have to disagree to a large extent with Scotland to force a "Brexit". Below are a few hypothetical results showing that England can easily take Scotland out of the EU, despite a large Scottish vote in favour of staying in.  

The numbers show that unless the margin of difference between in-out votes in England, Wales and Northern Ireland is exceptionally close (between 1-2 per cent ) it looks likely that Scotland’s EU fate is entirely out of its own hands. The number of votes needed from Scotland to stay in increases dramatically as the in-out margin becomes wider in the rest of Britain. Even if Scotland votes in favour of staying in by two to one, 52 per cent of the rest of the British electorate is all that’s needed to force an EU exit. In fact, even if every voter in Scotland chose to continue EU membership, it would only take about 56 per cent of the rest of Britain to vote for withdrawal to take Scotland with them.

Anyone with a bit of arithmetic can easily point out this balance of voting power. This possible scenario, however, shows that Britain could be voting on more than just EU membership. England pulling a pro-European Scotland out of the EU could have immense political consequences  for years to come. For Scotland to vote to stay within the UK, only to have England take it out of the EU against its will, could re-energise Scottish nationalism.

This might be exactly what Alex Salmond needs to keep his dream of independence alive for future generations. Any Westminster government would be unlikely to allow an immediate second referendum but nationalism can have persistence. In Canada, the Québécois overwhelmingly voted against independence in 1980. But by remaining determined they were able to achieve a second referendum 15 years later. In 1995, independence was extremely close with 49.42 per cent voting 'yes'. If Scottish nationalism is strengthened by England pulling Scotland out of the EU, when most Scots would rather stay in, we shouldn’t necesarily expect the uncertainty over Scotland’s future to end in 2014.

Glenn Gottfried is research fellow at IPPR

David Cameron and Scottish First Minister Alex Salmond attend the Drumhead Service on June 25, 2011 in Edinburgh. Photograph: Getty Images.

 

Glenn Gottfried is research fellow at IPPR

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In the 1980s, I went to a rally where Labour Party speakers shared the stage with men in balaclavas

The links between the Labour left and Irish republicanism are worth investigating.

A spat between Jeremy Corbyn’s henchfolk and Conor McGinn, the MP for St Helens North, caught my ear the other evening. McGinn was a guest on BBC Radio 4’s Westminster Hour, and he obligingly revisited the brouhaha for the listeners at home. Apparently, following an interview in May, in which McGinn called for Corbyn to “reach out beyond his comfort zone”, he was first threatened obliquely with the sack, then asked for a retraction (which he refused to give) and finally learned – from someone in the whips’ office – that his party leader was considering phoning up McGinn’s father to whip the errant whipper-in into line. On the programme, McGinn said: “The modus operandi that he [Corbyn] and the people around him were trying to do [sic], involving my family, was to isolate and ostracise me from them and from the community I am very proud to come from – which is an Irish nationalist community in south Armagh.”

Needless to say, the Labour leader’s office has continued to deny any such thing, but while we may nurture some suspicions about his behaviour, McGinn was also indulging in a little airbrushing when he described south Armagh as an “Irish ­nationalist community”. In the most recent elections, Newry and Armagh returned three Sinn Fein members to the Northern Ireland Assembly (as against one Social Democratic and Labour Party member) and one Sinn Fein MP to Westminster. When I last looked, Sinn Fein was still a republican, rather than a nationalist, party – something that McGinn should only be too well aware of, as the paternal hand that was putatively to have been lain on him belongs to Pat McGinn, the former Sinn Fein mayor of Newry and Armagh.

According to the Irish News, a “close friend” of the McGinns poured this cold water on the mini-conflagration: “Anybody who knows the McGinn family knows that Pat is very proud of Conor and that they remain very close.” The friend went on to opine: “He [Pat McGinn] found the whole notion of Corbyn phoning him totally ridiculous – as if Pat is going to criticise his son to save Jeremy Corbyn’s face. They would laugh about it were it not so sinister.”

“Sinister” does seem the mot juste. McGinn, Jr grew up in Bessbrook during the Troubles. I visited the village in the early 1990s on assignment. The skies were full of the chattering of British army Chinooks, and there were fake road signs in the hedgerows bearing pictograms of rifles and captioned: “Sniper at work”. South Armagh had been known for years as “bandit country”. There were army watchtowers standing sentinel in the dinky, green fields and checkpoints everywhere, manned by some of the thousands of the troops who had been deployed to fight what was, in effect, a low-level counter-insurgency war. Nationalist community, my foot.

What lies beneath the Corbyn-McGinn spat is the queered problematics of the ­relationship between the far left wing of the Labour Party and physical-force Irish republicanism. I also recall, during the hunger strikes of the early 1980s, going to a “Smash the H-Blocks” rally in Kilburn, north London, at which Labour Party speakers shared the stage with representatives from Sinn Fein, some of whom wore balaclavas and dark glasses to evade the telephoto lenses of the Met’s anti-terrorist squad.

The shape-shifting relationship between the “political wing” of the IRA and the men with sniper rifles in the south Armagh bocage was always of the essence of the conflict, allowing both sides a convenient fiction around which to posture publicly and privately negotiate. In choosing to appear on platforms with people who might or might not be terrorists, Labour leftists also sprinkled a little of their stardust on themselves: the “stardust” being the implication that they, too, under the right circumstances, might be capable of violence in pursuit of their political ends.

On the far right of British politics, Her Majesty’s Government and its apparatus are referred to derisively as “state”. There were various attempts in the 1970s and 1980s by far-right groupuscules to link up with the Ulster Freedom Fighters and other loyalist paramilitary organisations in their battle against “state”. All foundered on the obvious incompetence of the fascists. The situation on the far left was different. The socialist credentials of Sinn Fein/IRA were too threadbare for genuine expressions of solidarity, but there was a sort of tacit confidence-and-supply arrangement between these factions. The Labour far left provided the republicans with the confidence that, should an appropriately radical government be elected to Westminster, “state” would withdraw from Northern Ireland. What the republicans did for the mainland militants was to cloak them in their penumbra of darkness: without needing to call down on themselves the armed might of “state”, they could imply that they were willing to take it on, should the opportunity arise.

I don’t for a second believe that Corbyn was summoning up these ghosts of the insurrectionary dead when he either did or did not threaten to phone McGinn, Sr. But his supporters need to ask themselves what they’re getting into. Their leader, if he was to have remained true to the positions that he has espoused over many years, should have refused to sit as privy counsellor upon assuming his party office, and refused all the other mummery associated with the monarchical “state”. That he didn’t do so was surely a strategic decision. Such a position would make him utterly unelectable.

The snipers may not be at work in south Armagh just now – but there are rifles out there that could yet be dug up. I wouldn’t be surprised if some in Sinn Fein knew where they are, but one thing’s for certain: Corbyn hasn’t got a clue, bloody or otherwise. 

Will Self is an author and journalist. His books include Umbrella, Shark, The Book of Dave and The Butt. He writes the Madness of Crowds and Real Meals columns for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 25 August 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Cameron: the legacy of a loser