On the anniversary of the Scottish independence referendum, musician and activist Pat Kane explains how indyref impacted his life
THERE’S one obvious way that the indyref changed my life – I’ve never been as disappointed in the failed result of anything (and in that I include marriage, sure-fire hit records, bankruptcy, my kids making it to the institution of their choice, and probably a few more items).
Did I over-invest in independence? Was the link between who I am, and what I do, too tightly wrapped around the achievement of a Scottish nation-state?
That would be a overly therapeutic way to look at it, in retrospect (though it would certainly explain the random bouts of sobbing for months thereafter). At the time – that is, over my last 30 years of independence activism – it felt on the inside like a slow, deep enriching.
My story is of excitement at discovering how culture and politics could link up, through all the arts of the post-79 second Scots Renaissance – and then being inspired to chuck my scraps of tinsel on the glittering heap.
My story is of excitement at discovering how culture and politics could link up, through all the arts of the post-79 second Scots Renaissance – and then being inspired to chuck my scraps of tinsel on the glittering heap.
It’s also about my associations with rising political thinkers and actors, who – book by article by intervention – made the idea of Scottish independence seem like the most intelligent, exciting project to be involved in.
The two and half years of the official referendum campaign didn’t so much change me, as intensify a feeling I’ve always had about Scotland – that the latent potential in this country’s people (for that matter, any country’s people) is extraordinary, if they are resourced and legitimated to pursue their hopes and dreams.
It was the conversations at the ends of meetings, or at the sides of concerts and events, that affected me most. People opened up their aspirations towards a better society to you: no surprise to any street socialist, over the years.
But it was now aligned with that experience of growing up as a Scot, spoken in the language and accent and background assumptions of the nation.
And particularly in the poorer areas, a sense that a long historical dispossession was about to be rectified – not on behalf of the people by some paternalistic elite, but by the actions and intentions of the people themselves.
I feel that the ‘establishment’ now stands naked before us, its operations clear to see.
I will never, ever forget that feeling – I am moved in my chest even as I write of it. The Jimmy Reid image – of wanting to unleash the potential behind every flashing window of a high-rise flat – has settled even more securely in the core of my being.
One other way the indyref changed my life has been a bit scary – because it comes from being a bit scared. I’m a Glasgow University media studies kid, so I never had that much belief in the ‘objectivity’ of any news output – it will always bear the biases of the institution producing it.
But the way that both UK public and private broadcasters and press acted in concertation – whether explicitly, or just habitually – to deride, misinform and scaremonger the case for independence, didn’t just enrage me.
It made me worried for some basic freedoms, in the face of what Chomsky classically called “the manufacture of consent”.
Scotland has responded to this, of course – this digital network and platform, among many others, are proof of that. But I watched the intimidation of Syriza and the Greek voters by Euro politicians and financiers, and I now watch the same media-establishment othering and demonisation of the Corbynites in the Labour party.
I believe there will be a second indyref – our burgeoning democratic culture in Scotland will force it to happen, one way or the other.
I feel that the ‘establishment’ (the concept revived by Owen Jones in his book earlier this year) now stands naked before us, its operations clear to see.
It is vital that we support the alternative media and public spheres, that every day (and sometimes every minute of every hour) points towards – and often harshly satirises – this power as it goes about its business.
It presumes our passivity and disinterest: we must keep demonstrating that this is robustly not so. This media must also give space to the voices that argue for another, more equal, more participative way to do power – which is the greatest legacy of the first indyref.
This is why I believe there will be a second indyref. Because I think our burgeoning democratic culture in Scotland will force it to happen, one way or the other.
Pat Kane ( www.patkane.today ) is a musician and activist, and board member of both Bella Caledonia and Common Weal .
Picture: CommonSpace