Scottish independence: Aye, have a dream

The National Collective asked a country’s most creative minds to "imagine a better Scotland" – and now the idea is taking hold.

Thousands marched through the streets of Edinburgh on Saturday. The crowd, which straggled its way from the Royal Mile to the great stone columns on Calton Hill, were marking a year until the referendum for Scottish independence.

Amongst them were a group of artists, writers, filmmakers and photographers, all sporting the same black and white T-shirts. One man held aloft a cardboard placard: “Aye, have a dream.” Another, hand painted in green, girlish letters, read: “Vote as if you live in the early days of a better nation,” a play on the slogan made popular by the writer Alasdair Gray.

The marchers represented a growing grass roots movement among the arts community in Scotland, who are lending their skills to the nationalist cause. They are young. They are creative. They are witty and sometimes brash. They call themselves ‘the National Collective’.

The National Collective is a non-party political body – although, like the rest of the country, it tends towards the left – which seeks out new ways to inspire an undecided Scottish electorate to vote ‘Yes’ come next September.

The collective made headlines earlier this year when it published an article criticising Ian Taylor, the unionist campaign’s biggest donor and chief executive of the oil company Vitol, noting that – amongst other complaints – his firm had been found guilty of grand larceny in the US in 2007 after paying $13m in kickbacks to Iraqi officials under Saddam Hussein for oil contracts.

(Threats from Taylor’s solicitor’s prompted the collective’s website to go offline shortly afterwards – offering only a page of static and Mogwai’s Music for a Forgotten Future. The article has since been republished.)

Since then support for their campaign has ballooned. Last month its website received 80,000 hits, and there are now local chapters in all the major Scottish cities – Edinburgh, Glasgow, Dundee, Stirling, Inverness and Aberdeen.

I met two of the core members – Mairi McFadyen, an academic at Edinburgh University, and Ròs Hunter, a student at Glasgow – over a coffee at the Fruitmarket Gallery, where the trains of Waverley Station below make themselves known in a rumbling through the foundations.

Mairi is a founding member of Trad Yes, a group of folk musicians keen to express their support for independence. She said: "We don't want our musicians to make their gig a political event. But we ask them to have a banner on stage, or mention the campaign during the performance, to make their support known."

The National Collective promotes their contributors in a number of different ways. New writing and images are published on the main website; musicians, spoken word and short films showcased on a dedicated YouTube channel.

Ròs explained: “Anyone who wants to suggest a new project can fill in an online document outlining their proposal, telling us what they'd need us to provide or what resources they can offer. They might want to borrow a camera, or need some volunteers to help at an event, or they might just need coloured paper and pens."

Her 'wish tree' project asks supporters to write what they would like to see from an independent Scotland onto coloured paper tags, which are then tied to a branch or string. Wishes range from deadly serious (“We decide which wars we fight”) to flippant (“More sunshine and fewer midgies!”), but together they offer a broad brush impression of a great hope for the future.

Indeed, the pair are almost giddy with the possibilities, recounting the aspirations and travails of the campaign with a rare earnestness, both in vigorous agreement that the Collective is one outlet through which young Scots are growing in “cultural confidence”.

Such enthusiasm is infectious. The National Collective has attracted warm words from a number of high profile Scots, including the national poet Liz Lochhead, the author Alasdair Gray and the comedian Elaine C Smith.

The playwright Alan Bissett, whose (ironic) poem Vote Britain (“Vote with your heart. Vote Empire.”) has become a rallying cry amongst the nationalist movement, joined the collective as a 'creative ambassador'. 

He said: “Artists are by their nature suspicious of  party politics, since this almost invariably means toeing some kind of line - which is the death of the imagination. At the same time, however, we understand the value of collaborating on a project larger than ourselves as individuals, since that’s how musicians, film-makers and playwrights work.  

"The National Collective gives us the chance to explore the independence issue flexibly and with a creative spirit: no conversation is off-limits and nothing feels coercive. We want to be anarchic, outspoken and free."

Their support reflects how the wider creative community in Scotland have rallied around the Yes campaign. As has been remarked upon in the Scottish press, there are few in the arts willing to admit to unionist sympathies, despite a flood of names declaring in the opposite direction including Annie Lennox, Jack Vettriano and Frankie Boyle (and many more, which have been compiled in a list on the National Collective’s website).

It’s a surprising trend, given that the level of support for independence amongst the general population hovers around 30%.

A number of factors play a part in this surge of support from the creative community, not least because the Scottish Government has traditionally placed a lot of emphasis in funding for the arts – particularly when seen in comparison to the Coalition government at Westminster. The national arts agency Arts Council England saw its budget slashed by almost a third in 2010 and by a further 5% earlier this year; its equivalent, Creative Scotland, on the other hand, has seen its budget cut by a mere 2%.

The First Minister Alex Salmond too has personally shown his admiration of a number of Scottish writers by quoting from their work in his speeches. Last year he read The Nonsense Ends by little-known Edinburgh poet George Robinson at the SNP party conference (“Not I and more are yet content / With just a devolved parliament.”), the year before invoking Robert Burns’ A Red, Red Rose when he promised that “the rocks will melt with the sun before I allow tuition fees to be imposed on Scottish students.”

Thus Salmond grasps that the poet may be better placed to inspire than the politician, even going so far as to declare that he would be asking “one of Scotland’s great literary talents” to help write the Scottish Government’s upcoming white paper on independence, due to be published in November. (The novelist William McIlvanney has been tipped for the role, but there has been no confirmation.)

There too is the inherent romanticism of an independence movement: the struggle for freedom makes a grand narrative, with which the more pressing fight – the struggle against apathy – can be fought.

Campaigning to maintain the status quo, which is what the unionist movement Better Together is tasked with, is a less inspiring task. But then, the No campaign doesn’t need to inspire; creating uncertainty will almost certainly be enough to lure the canny Scots to remain within the safety of the Union.

Better Together, led by the former Chancellor of the Exchequer Alistair Darling, has faced claims of fear-mongering, after initial arguments centred around the risks of independence (the oil money running out, banks sinking the economy, the EU barring re-entry), in a bid to present this scrappy little country as incapable of looking after itself. This approach did not sit well with the public, but as Darling himself remarked, “the onus is on those who want to break up the union to explain why going-it-alone would be better for Scotland.”

Police estimated the crowd at the rally on Saturday to number in the region of 8,300. Its organisers disagreed, claiming that between 20,000 and 30,000 turned up. Either way, it was a good show in a city with a population of less than 500,000.

Nevertheless, to win the referendum, the Yes campaign needs the support of many hundreds of thousands more. It’s a big ask, but they have some of the country’s most inspiring voices on their side. Is it possible? Certainly. Is it likely? Well, who knows.

The Dundee-born novelist AL Kennedy said: “Arts workers might feel that being in a more progressive, autodidactic atmosphere would be good in general and good for them personally.  They may feel an independent, left leaning Scotland would be that place. Some people always feel they might be a bigger fish if the pond was smaller, some want to get creative with a whole new start for their country.

“It will be an interesting time, the next few months... but the cultural ground work and confidence and architecture are all there. That's not in doubt. This is a vote about whether Scotland's politicians measure up or not.”

Thousands of pro-independence campaigners attend a rally on Calton Hill in Edinburgh. Image: Getty

Cal Flyn is a freelance journalist, who writes for the Sunday Times, New Statesman and others. Find more of her work at and her Twitter handle is @calflyn.

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Theresa May can play big fish with devolved nations - in the EU she's already a nobody

The PM may have more time for domestic meetings in future. 

Theresa May is sitting down with representatives from Scotland, Northern Ireland and Wales on Monday to hear their concerns about Brexit. 

For the devolved nations, it is the first chance since the seismic vote in June to sit down at a table and talk to the Prime Minister together. 

May has reportedly offered them a "direct line" to Brexit secretary David Davis. It must be a nice change for her to be the big fish in the small pond, rather than the small fish in the big pond that everyone's already sick of. 

Because, when it comes to the EU, the roles of Westminster and other nations is reversed. 

Brexit was small potatoes on the menu of Theresa May’s first European Council summit. It may hurt British pride but the other 27 heads of state and government had far more pressing issues on their plate to worry about.

So, it was an awkward debut Council evening meal of lamb and figs for Prime Minister Theresa May and dinner was served with a large reality check.

As May was later asked at her press conference, why would anyone listen to someone who already has one foot out the door?

Britain is in limbo until it triggers article 50, the legal process taking it out of the EU. Until that happens, it will be largely and politiely ignored.

May’s moment to shine didn’t come until 1am. She spoke on Brexit for “five minutes maximum” and said “nothing revolutionary”, EU sources briefed later.

May basically did that break-up talk. The one where someone says they are leaving but “we can still be friends”. The one where you get a divorce but refuse to leave the house. 

It was greeted in the way such moments often are – with stony silence. Brexit won’t be seriously discussed until article 50 is triggered, and then the negotiations will be overseen by the European Commission, not the member states.

As became rapidly clear after the vote to leave and in sharp contrast to the UK government, the EU-27 was coordinated and prepared in its response to Brexit. That unity, as yet, shows no sign of cracking.

German Chancellor Angela Merkel later damned May with faint praise. She hadn’t said anything new but it was nice to hear it in person, she told reporters.

Merkel, as she often does, had a successful summit. She needed Council conclusions on migration that would reassure her skittish voters that the doors to Germany are no longer thrown wide open to migrants. Germany is one of the member states to have temporarily reintroduced border checks in the passport-free Schengen zone

The conclusions said that part of returning to Schengen as normal was “adjusting the temporary border controls to reflect the current needs”.

This code allows Merkel and her Danish allies to claim victory back home, while allowing Slovakia, which holds the rotating Presidency of the EU, enough of an excuse to insist it has not overseen the effective end of Schengen.

But Merkel’s migration worries did not provide hope for the British push for immigration controls with access to the single market. The Chancellor, and EU chiefs, have consistently said single market access is conditional on the free movement of people. So far this is a red line.

Everyone had discussed the EU’s latest responses to the migration crisis at a summit in Bratislava. Everyone apart from May. She was not invited to the post-Brexit meeting of the EU-27.

She tried to set down a marker, telling her counterparts that the UK wouldn’t just rubberstamp everything the EU-27 cooked up.

This was greeted with a polite, friendly silence. The EU-27 will continue to meet without Britain.

Francois Hollande told reporters that if May wanted a hard Brexit, she should expect hard negotiations.

Just the day before Alain Juppe, his likely rival in next year’s presidential election, had called for the UK border to be moved from Calais to Kent.

Hollande had to respond in kind and the Brussels summit gave him the handy platform to do so. But once inside the inner sanctum of the Justus Lipsius building, it was Syria he cared about. He’s enjoyed far more foreign than domestic policy success.

May had called for a “unified European response” to the Russian bombing of Aleppo. It was a break in style from David Cameron, who is not fondly remembered in Brussels for his habit of boasting to the news cameras he was ready to fight all night for Britain and striding purposefully into the European Council. 

Once safely behind closed doors, he would be far more conciliatory, before later claiming another triumph over the Eurocrats at a pumped-up press conference.

May could point to Council conclusions saying that all measures, including sanctions, were on the table if the Russian outrages continue. But her victory over countries such as Italy and Greece was only achieved thanks to support from France and Germany. 

The national success was also somewhat undermined by the news Russian warships were in the Channel, and that the Brexit talks might be in French.

But even warships couldn’t stop the British being upstaged by the Belgian French-speaking region of Wallonia. Its parliament had wielded an effective veto on Ceta, the EU-Canada trade deal.

Everyone had skin in this game. All the leaders, including May, had backed CETA, arguing the removal of almost all custom duties would boost trade the economy. Belgium’s Prime Minister Charles Michel was forced to tell exasperated leaders he could not force one of Belgium’s seven parliaments to back CETA, or stop it wrecking seven years of painstaking work.

As the news broke that Canada’s trade minister Chrystia Freeland had burst into tears as she declared the deal dead, everyone – not the first time during the summit – completely forgot about Britain and its referendum.

Even as the British PM may be enjoying a power trip in her own domestic union of nations, on the international stage, she is increasingly becoming irrelevant. 

James Crisp is the news editor at EurActiv, an online EU news service.