No great mischief.

My post on the likelihood of the 2014 Independence Referendum falling on or near the 100th anniversary of the Battle of Ypres, provoked a few comments and a lot of off-line conversation, particularly with a friend who blogs under the name Fergus.

The following is a mixture of the factual and family recollections from Fergus. The images are selected from the fantastic National Library of Scotland Flickr account. These were the photos deemed suitable to show the concerned public back home, what their sons and daughters were going through, therefore they are supposedly positive and mask the negative. Ahh propaganda...

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I will just quote from Tom Devine's book, The Scottish Nation. page 309:

"Of the 157 battalions which comprised the British Expeditionary Force, 22 were Scottish regiments...

Of the 557,000 Scots who enlisted in all services, 26.4 percent lost their lives. This compares with an average death rate of 11.8 percent for the rest of the British army between 1914 and 1918. Of all the combatant nations, only the Serbs and the Turks had higher per capita mortality rates, but this was primarily because of disease in the trenches rather than a direct result of losses in battle. The main reason for the higher-than-average casualties among the Scottish soldiers was that they were regarded as excellent, aggressive shock troops who could be depended upon to lead the line in the first hours of battle."

A long line of soldiers from a Highland Regiment marching along a road. They are all wearing kilts and steel helmets, and are carrying rifles.

In 1881 there was a restructuring of the British Army which included the creation of four distinct Highland Regiments; The Gordon Highlanders, The Queen's Own Highlanders, The Queen's Own Cameron Highlanders and The Seaforth Highlanders. They were collectively known as The Highlanders.

 

As any military historian will tell you, the Canadians were also outstanding (Vimy Ridge, for example): just list some of their regiments: the Cameron Highlanders of Ottowa, the Black Watch of Canada, the Canadian Scottish, the Calgary Highlanders, the Toronto Scottish, the Argyll & Sutherland Highlanders of Canada, the Lorne Scots, the Cape Breton Highlanders - I could go on, but you get the idea. And that is aside from Scottish emigrants and their descendants in other Canadian formations, and, of course, in the Newfoundland Regiment, almost wiped out on the first day of the Somme (Newfoundland then being a separate Dominion in its own right).

Two of my great-uncles were killed in Gallipoli (thank you, Winston Incompetent Churchill). My grandfather fought in the Royal Naval Division. I remember well my great uncle Jock, who was gassed on the Somme. In the Second World War, my father was in the RAF, of his two brothers, one was in the RN (including Russian convoys), the other in XIVth Army in Burma. His sister was in the Queen Alexandria's Nursing Service. I think you could say we have more than paid.

Just as a little aside, when "England expected every man to do his duty" at Trafalgar, one-quarter of Nelson's captains and one-third of his crews were Scots (and a substantial percentage of the rest of the crews were Irish rebels from the 1798 Rising, whose only choice was the Navy or the hangman). Thomas Cochrane, 10th Earl of Dundonald, known to the French as "the Sea Wolf" was a brilliant Naval officer, as was Admiral Duncan, victor of Camperdown.

 

Before the Union, as far as external enemies were concerned, we only fought the English, and usually only when they left us little option. We did, of course, deal with the Vikings, at Largs and Ronaldsway, but they had come here looking for trouble. We contributed to the Crusades, but all Christendom was involved in that - Bruce's heart and the Douglas, you remember.  Since 1707, we have shed Scottish blood the world over. The Kingdom of Scotland never fought the French, the Dutch, the Germans, the Russians, the Japanese, the Indians, the Afghans, the Zulus or whoever, and never would have, provided they left us alone - but Westminster decided that they were the enemy. I remember a glorious quote from a history book I read at school, on the Seven Years' War in North America: "Fort Duquesne, at the head of the Ohio Valley, was taken for England by a charge of Highlanders and Americans". Well done the Highlanders and Americans, I am sure the English are eternally grateful!

I heard some Labour numpty say that an independent Scotland would not have been involved in overthrowing Gaddaffi, as if that was a bad thing.* I should  *(&%! well hope not! What goes on in Libya is the Libyans business, not ours. If you think that the lot who have taken over are any more saintly than the late, unlamented scumbag, Gaddaffi, then you probably also believe in the Tooth-fairy, and I can offer you a really good price on the Forth Road Bridge.

* It was another Unionist stooge  numpty, Michael Moore, the Secretary for the State of Scotland. Link

TD's figures certainly are shocking, especially since they are generally unacknowledged. Over a quarter died! Try Googling Scottish First World War casualties, and you will not easily get these statistics.  I don't know how many were wounded, but, given how the Scottish troops were used, the figure must be horrendous.

Being used as the shock troops against the formidably brave and highly-professional German Army, which was very effectively dug in in excellent defences, is sufficient explanation for the carnage. However, don't forget we won. On top of the Clearances, it helps explain the sad emptiness of so much of rural Scotland, both Highland and Lowland. How many widows and unmarried girls must have left the countryside, as there were no men left for them, and how many led a lonely and childless existence? Again, if I may let my own family intrude here, my mother's cousin, a lovely women, never married. Her fiancé died in the defence of Calais in 1940, preventing the Germans pushing along the coast and cutting off Dunkirk before the evacuation could begin. This sad story was replicated so many more times in 1914-18.

 Captured German soldiers en masse.

By the way, my great uncle Jock's younger brother, Owen, joined the KOSB in 1918, and had just completed his training when the War ended. I remember him telling me that the Kaiser heard he was coming, and jacked it in! Jock was in the Cameronian's, but I have no idea why they were in different regiments - possibly to replace these horrific casualties.

The Scottish contribution to the armed forces in World War I was way above its population size, compared to England. That is even more striking when you consider how important Scottish mining, steelmaking, shipbuilding, engineering and munitions production were to the War effort, and, of course, farming, fishing and forestry, and how demanding all these were on the labour force. The merchant navy, as in the Second World War the unsung lifeline for British survival in the face of the U-boat offensive, had a very large Scottish contingent, not least in the engine rooms. There were still important Scottish shipping lines operating then. Even Star Trek took the formidable reputation of the Scottish engineer to heart!

One thing that should not be overlooked in all the gloom, is the unfailing humour of the Scottish and English soldiers in war, no matter how horrific the situation. In 1914, the Old Contemptible's shot the army of the felicitously named von Kluck to bits at Mons and Le Cateau with their rapid aimed fire from Lee Enfield rifles. You can't help admiring their typical reponse to the vast forces facing them - that wonderful ditty, "We don't give a f--- for old von Kluck and all his f---ing great army!" Likewise the song the Germans just could not understand such a good army singing "Send my mother, my sister and my brother but for God's sake don't send me!"

It was just the same in WWII. When Churchill was reviewing the victory parade in Tripoli, he burst into a huge grin when the 51st Highland Division marched past, singing the "Ball o Kirriemuir"!

Many years ago, I watched a film about Arnhem with my late father. At the end, the director had the British paratroops singing "Abide with me", as they realised they had no option but surrender. My father laughed, and said he did not believe that at all. They were much more likely to sing "Twas on the good ship Venus"...   Fergus.


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On the statistics of Scottish fatalities and injuries in WWI. I think a lot of this has to do with the wha's like us' machismo that somehow still survives in Scottish culture, the same national flaw that's been abused through the centuries of Union. Needing some mad loonies for a gallant effort against overwhelming forces or great difficulties, who you gonna call? That's right wee angry red faced men in kilts. Cynic that I am, I reckon, that British military commanders have always viewed Scottish forces as expendable. There's no finer example of this than that of Major General James Wolfe at the 'Battle of the plains of Abraham' in Quebec. Needing to knock out a garrison on top of a great bloody cliff, which the French considered unscalable, he called on his Scottish troops and ordered them to drag two cannons up the cliff, knock-out the French garrison thus allowing the rest of his army to march unscathed onto the battlefield. He told his officers of the Scots; "They are hardy, intrepid, accustomed to a rough country, and no great mischief if they fall."

Look around Scotland, there's barely a village, town or city without a memorial to the fallen. I remember reading that the Isle of Lewis, with a population of 30,000 souls in 1914, lost roughly 1,000 sons. Lewis' loss was the greatest per head of population than any other town in these isles. Is it any wonder that we're underpopulated in comparison with similar geographically sized countries? 

Intrigued by Fergus' songs, I looked around and found the von Kluck which goes as follows:

Kaiser Bill(Tune: 'Pop goes the Weasel')

Kaiser Bill is feeling ill,

The Crown Prince, he's gone barmy.

We don't give a cluck for old von Fluck

And all his bleeding army.

Far Far From Wipers(Tune: 'Sing me to sleep')

Far far from Wipers, I long to be,

Where German snipers can't get at me,

Damp is my dugout, cold are my feet,

Waiting for whizzbangs to put me to sleep.

The above is a heart wrenching recording of the old boys reminiscing at the now closed down Flanders Home in Glasgow.

Vingt-et-un - Winner takes all.

The Grauniad, that ever so liberal, ever so brave champion of truth, equality and liberty, still haven't quite come to terms with the concept of civic nationalism and the desire by many in Scotland for complete Independence from Westminster government.

This morning sees yet another 'Salmond Challenged' headline. This time it's Severin Carrell, an amiable sort of cove, with a nice line in pppppanic raising, who declares, "In an unusually strong intervention the (Electoral) commission said that thorough, independent scrutiny of any question in the referendum was essential to ensure it was clear, fair and neutral and to guarantee that the final result was reliable."

So far, so common sense. Ah but wait here's the crunch. Following Salmond's perfectly succinct and understandable, "Do you agree that Scotland should be an independent country?" there was almost a grudging acceptance that the question was fair. None of the anti-Independence parties made much of it, accepting it as fair. Ruth Davidson, the Just William character in charge of the Scottish Tories, said in Holyrood:

"What the first minister posited today is a fair and decisive legal question, which I welcome, and we now need to ensure that it is asked in a legal referendum."

Well, she was the new girl, who momentarily lost all sense of proportion, she'd forgotten that most basic of credos, 'never agree with a Nat'. The other Unionists in Holyrood, didn't like that it was there, but none saw it as an unacceptable question...that is until the arch unionists like Telegraph North Britainshire correspondent, Simon Johnson, pulled Professor of Psychology and err Marketing, Robert Caldini of the University of Arizona out of his 10 pint stetson hat. The good professor declared that the word 'Agree' is in actual fact pejorative... yeah me too, I'm afraid to agree with that in case I've been bullied into it... Naturally, Professor Heinz Wolff of Strathclyde University, sensing a rival on his turf, jumped in and agreed with Prof Caldini, thus preserving his role as Newsnicht's expert-in-residence-for-life.

Following this 'loaded' question, polling agencies began to test it, using the as written question and lo and behold, it was suddenly deemed an unfair question, as those polled responded positively to it. Shock horror, don't the simplistic fools know that agreeing to something is raw manipulation, worthy of the vilest propagandist?

Which brings us back to Severin's report of alleged ppppanic from the Electoral Commission. John McCormick, a dashed fine fellow, I've met many a time, who hails from Saltcoats and is the former head of BBC Scotland, (back when they actually put out decent TV shows from Scotland) is the commissioner for Scotland, he said:

"A clear process for agreeing the question – that includes sufficient time for it to be independently tested with voters – will be particularly important.

"The people of Scotland face an historic decision and the referendum must take place in a way that is transparent, open to scrutiny, gives voters confidence and delivers a result accepted by all."

Now, to use the pejorative, I agree, with that, it's a simple statement that calls for considered thinking, and certainly calls for time to be given to the process. An independent thinking journalist, might have taken the slant, that the Electoral Commission were resisting calls for a rushed referendum, and asking that due consideration be given to the question that will affect all of us forever, but hey this is the Grauniad, the last bastion of following Westminster's lead in all things concerning Scotland. Oh how we long for the days of Peter Preston, when it was a genuinely liberal socially progressive broadsheet, not afraid to challenge the hegemony of the day and take on unfashionable causes like the right to self determination around the globe, but just not up the road...

Anyhoo, I got to thinking about the actual referendum questions, and as always history teaches us to look at other examples of the wording of referendum questions from around the world.

Here's a few.

“Should the Union with Denmark be abolished and a new republican constitution adopted?” (Iceland)

"Should the Republic of Slovenia become an independent and sovereign state?"

"Do you support the Act of Declaration of Independence of Ukraine?"

"Do you support the restoration of the independence of Georgia in accordance with the Act of Declaration of Independence of Georgia of May 26, 1918?"

 Do you want the Republic of Montenegro to be an independent state with a full international and legal personality?

and the extremely wordy and quite confusing.

Do you want the Republic of Moldova to develop as an independent and unitary state, in the frontiers recognized in the day where Moldova declared sovereignty, to promote a policy of neutrality and to maintain mutually-benefiting economic relations with all the countries of the world, and to guarantee its citizens equal rights, according to international law?

Followed by the last proper one in this country:

I agree that there should be a Scottish Parliament.

I do not agree that there should be a Scottish Parliament.

All of them were successful, a mixture of 'do you', 'should' and 'agrees'. The lesson to be learned is, that people are not stupid, they do not need to be lead to the polling booth like a reluctant toddler. The question boils down to the simplicity of a game of Blackjack.

Do you want to vote for the promise of a better future or stick with what we've got? 

Autumn 1914 - Autumn 2014

All this talk of dates for the 2014 Referendum on Scottish Independence and the obligatory obfuscation that emanates from those opposed to the democratic mandate of the Scottish electorate, got me thinking about the importance of dates and how they might impact on Referendum voters.

We already know that the date which commemorates the 700th anniversary of Bannockburn takes place on the 24th of June that summer. It can be of scant regard to the anti-Independence parties to cite this as a date liable to inflame Scottish passions, given that the 1997 devolution referendum was held on the 11th of September, exactly 700 years to the day after that other great Scottish victory, the Battle of Stirling Bridge.

I like history, I didn't do particularly well at secondary school, I was more or less written off as not worth the effort by both teachers and my parents, well apart from one teacher Miss Gibson. She was a feisty gal, probably only in her late 20's-early 30's. She was handed the task of preparing a bunch of ill-mannered kids to pass their history 'O' Grade. She spoke about a Gaelic speaking Uncle from Lewis, who had been arrested and interred during the Great War, after being mistaken for a German spy. His only crime was to be in possession of sandy coloured hair and was discovered speaking with an unusual non-English accent. I liked Miss Gibson, I paid more attention in her classes and managed to retain enough of her lessons to scrape a pass in the O grade, not a particularly good mark, but good enough to help me find pleasure in reading and studying history.

I was confident enough to contribute to her class discussions on the Great War. An elderly Irish neighbour who had survived the trenches, would indulge me and tell me tales of the mundane things that happened to him amidst horror. One of my grandfather's had been blinded by German mustard gas, also known as Yperite. Relatives would describe Olympic class swearing from this long dead father of thirteen, who stumbled around a top floor Shawlands flat cursing every sharp object or small child his shins came into contact with. His injury and Miss Gibson came together for me, as she described the horror of modern warfare unleashed at Ypres in Autumn 1914. By the end of the year, she told us, some 90,000 of the original British Expeditionary Force were casualties, with an astonoshing 30% of them dead. Roughly 30,000 young men dead. The bulk of the victims during the first battle of Ypres, which saw modern warfare change from mobile infantry to static trench warfare, came from the Jocks and Taffs of the 1st Scots Guards, the 2nd Welsh Regiment and the 1st South Wales Borderers. The 2nd Worcester were there and suffered terribly, but somehow the disproportionate number of young Scotsmen who died at the time always stuck with me.

So, Autumn 2014, will find a referendum on Scottish Independence falling at some point, exactly 100 years after this epoch defining battle, that led to the deaths of thousands of Scots and the subsequent knock on effect of the depopulation of Scotland. Voting to ensure that my kids or grandkids or even great grandkids are never sent like lambs to the slaughter for a Monarch or a crusading Westminster zealot will be one of the considerations I think on, before voting Yes to Scottish Independence. 

Bjork declares Independence-Scotland follows.

Dumfries in Fearful Factionalist Farrago

Dear readers, your humble correspondent has distressing news from the Socialist peoples republic of Dumfropolis. Poisonous words have reached your official party newspaper with startling news for the beloved followers of the dear party. Treacherous zealots, only interested in personal gain and self aggrandisement, are reluctant to follow edicts from the supreme overlord, the honourable and divine, James Murphy, Member of Parliament for the peoples constituency of East Renfrewshire. 

These traitorous dogs have dared to complain in shadowy corners, that the leaderships desire that they hand over a paltry five percent of their publicly funded council salary to the party is unfair! 

This dissent from these cowardly parasites, has brought eternal shame to this humble correspondent. It is my fearful duty to report that of the twenty-one Labour party candidates for the forthcoming Local Council Election, which will return Scotland to the safe and comforting hands of the mother party, many have refused to sign, in blood, their contract agreeing to hand over this piffling amount of money. That such a petit-bourgeois concern should hinder those who were chosen by the peoples selection panels to throw off the yoke of capitalist exploitation has angered this correspondent to a state of incandescent luminosity. 

One of these inveterate scoundrels speaking to your sickened correspondent in a darkened multi-storey car park behind the Loreburn shopping centre said:

"Some of theses conditions are completely unreasonable and very controlling." 

Unfortunately due to the poor mobile signal coverage in the car park, your correspondent was unable to raise assistance from burly party volunteers, who were waiting nearby to arrest this dissenting mad dog. He went on to say...I know he was a he, because we have no sisterly comrades representing us on the council:   

 "Here you have the Labour Party forcing people to hand over a percentage of their wages and threatening action if they don't.

"A lot of candidates are unhappy with this contract but there doesn't seem to be a lot they can do if they want to stand."

At these disgusting words, I vainly and heroically tried to effect a citizen journalists arrest. Sadly as I vigorously launched myself at this dishevelled and probably drunken miscreant, I slipped on an empty bottle of Buckfast secreted on the darkened floor. I awoke a few moments later with a sore head and a blinding rage to have been in the company of one so disloyal to the party, albeit temporarily.

I beseech you dear reader, to ignore the complaints from these degenerate careerists, who take offence at being reminded to "follow the group whip at all times and attend all Labour group and council meetings". How can these opportunist curs flinch at the prospect of embracing "at least 150-200 voter ID contacts- who vow to give commitment to backing the people party- every week."?

It shames your correspondent, to consider that these utterly unscrupulous factionalists would be concerned that local party officials will "receive reports based on the candidate's performance, backed up by monitoring conducted by the Scottish Labour Party."  Do these saboteurs not realise that, "if problems persist the...Scottish Executive Committee will review what further action is required up to and including rescinding the endorsement of any candidate." is solely of a beneficial nature to the misguided individual and betterment of the party? 

What harm is there, in these lumpen proletariat being asked to sign a contract that asks candidates to accept that failing to comply with the rules,"may result in me being removed from the list of approved candidates"? 

Dear reader, we can only hope that the wisdom of our venerable party leaders affords us an opportunity to conduct a root and branch pogrom of these undeserving traitors who would question the parties wisdom.

Brave thwarts the Unionists...

More flummery from that verecund Montague Burton on yatube...

What lies within?

Ok my political anorak chums, here's a question to get the synapses charged on a driech monday morning. 

Name the Castle Douglas born politician who produced the White Paper on Freedom of Information, which led to the Freedom of Information Act 2000?

The very same Act which Dominic Grieve the Attorney General, has thwarted by vetoing a request for the disclosure of minutes from the Cabinet Committee on Devolution to Scotland, Wales and the English Region.

It's a tricky one isn't it? To be honest I'd never heard of this chap, despite the fact that he was a regular front bench spokesperson for Labour during the 18 years of Tory government. At various times he held portfolios in Agriculture Food & Fisheries, Defence, Food, Agriculture and Rural Affairs and was even Shadow defence Secretary 1992-97, a period which included wars in Rwanda, Croatia, Slovenia, Sierra Leone, Bosnia, Georgia et al.

Now I'm normally a clued up chap on these sort of global manifestations of unpleasantness, but I racked my brains and I have absolutely no recollection of Labour's then shadow defence secretary pouring forth with an opinion during this period. His name is David Clark, and since 2001 he's been known as Baron Clark of Windermere. Ring any bells? Nope me neither.

His wiki page is a fascinating insight into a life in Labour. I don't know who wrote it, but I suspect old scores are being settled in a quiet little corner of the internet. I was unaware, for example, that David Clark MP was forced to apologise to the commons after meeting with Bosnian war criminal Radovan Karadžić in 1993 and not declaring it in the Register of Members Interests.

I was also unaware that when Labour were returned to power, Blair felt obliged, due to his long but mostly anonymous service, to give him a ministerial prize as a sort of New Labour gold watch, he was given the post of Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster. This is at best a one day a week job, where the bulk of the work is done by an actual deputy, thus freeing up the MP to loaf around pretending to be a politician. The incumbent Chancellor is one Nick Clegg MP.

I did not know that David Clark, also stood for election to Speaker of the House of Commons and was defeated by the only Speaker ever to resign his post in an expenses ridden scandal, one Michael Martin, now Baron Martin of salubrious Springburn.

By far the most interesting thing I did not know about David Clark, is that his South Shields seat was one of the safest Labour seats in the UK. It was much coveted by those bright young things in the New Labour Party, particularly the then head of the Number 10 Policy Unit, one David Miliband, who had absolutely no connection to the constituency, other than the attraction that they weigh the Labour vote there rather than count it. Clark's constituency branch caught wind of this and fought his reselection in 2001, for fear of Clark rolling over on his belly for a seat in the House of Lords, thus allowing the National Executive Committee to parachute in their own candidate, who would have little interest in the actual constituency.

Clark, fought these unsubstantiated claims, declared his willingness to fight for his constituents for a full term, garnered the support from local trade union barons, won the day and immediately rolled over to allow the NEC to err parachute in David Miliband and for himself to undergo that transformational role and ascend from trade unionist to a comfy green seat in the House of Lords.

What a fascinating life and great insight to the merits of public life. Keep your head down, don't rock the boat and one day you'll be clad in ermine. Obviously to claim a bit of gravitas for posterity, Clark claimed he was shunted from his role writing the White Paper on Freedom of Information, because he shunned the London cocktail circuit for the heady delights of South Shields.

His legacy, however, remains what eventually became the Freedom of Information Act 2000.

From this Act we now know some of these salacious details that were never intended for public consumption:

» The Thatcher Government concocted a plan to search for the Loch Ness monster using a team of dolphins

» Foreign diplomats – who have diplomatic immunity – were accused of rapes, sexual assaults, child abuse and murders while working in Britain

» Ted Heath was once offered concert work by Idi Amin of Uganda. The eccentric dictator made his offer in a 1977 telegram

» Weapons used by paratroopers on Bloody Sunday have ended up in the hands of the army in Sierra Leone, paramilitary police in Beirut and even in an Arkansas gun shop

» A clandestine British torture programme existed in postwar Germany, “reminiscent of the concentration camps”

» Britain helped Israel to obtain its nuclear bomb 40 years ago, by selling it 20 tonnes of heavy water

» Then Prime Minister Blair took trips costing more than £1.2m over four years from 2002 on RAF jets allocated to the Royal Family and government VIPs, including those for holidays abroad

» Britain has extradited four times as many people to the US as have been sent in return since the introduction of fast-track extradition

» More than 1,000 girls aged 14 and under had abortions in a single year

» 1980s school dinners could be the cause of three young Welsh people’s deaths from the human form of mad cow disease

» The Elgin Marbles were damaged by two schoolboys fighting in the British Museum in 1961. One of the boys fell and knocked off part of a centaur's leg

All items at once variously surreal; amusing, terrifying, to be expected and quite concerning. Yet, Dominic Grieve has decided that the contents of the cabinet meeting on devolution are so serious that they are not to be open to the public.

What outrageous slurs about Scotland, Scottish politicians and Scotland’s destiny could these minutes contain? 

The odd thing in this whole mess, other than the fact that it's been little reported in the Scottish media, apart from of all people, the Hootsman, is that the original FOI was done by one of those UKIP chappies. Here's his correspondence and rather unique response to the refusal to release the minutes.

Where are the pro-Independence thinkers and doers who have the legal ability and tenacity to set about FOI cases with the same relish that the ignoble Baron Foulkes used to when he was being subsidised by the Scottish Parliament? Is there not one SNP intern, staffer or assistant willing to roll their sleeves up and get stuck into this veil of secrecy? 

This veto has only been used twice in the past, once on questions regarding the Iraq War, the other on questions of Devolution. Iraq, you can understand from the perspective of 'national security', but to refuse publication on matters pertaining to Devolution, not once, but twice...that's something worth prising open. 

Scotland Said Yes!

Amazing what you can find on these here interwebs. The above, as you can see are pamphlets produced by the Labour Party in Scotland from 1976 to the eve of the 1979 Devolution Referendum. 

The flyers veer from a strong NO to Devolution, a graphic decapitation regarding Independence (or to use their pejorative term - Separation) to the 5 pence bargain telling us the whole Labour movement supported Devolution bill for a Scottish Assembly. Odd really given the role of Messrs Wilson, Cook and Cunningham and their role in thwarting the rights of limited Scottish self determination. 

As we all know, 32.9% of the Scottish electorate turned out and voted. The YES vote edging it 51.6% to the NO camps 48.4% Thanks to the MP for Finsbury's amendment requiring 40% of the electorate turn out, a feat I've never heard of anywhere else in the history of the universal  franchise. If I'm wrong please illuminate in the comments below...

So 36 years on, the most stringent anti-devolutionist's are now vehemently opposed to Independence. The language they use hasn't changed much. Independence supporters are still separatists who supposedly hate everyone born on the wrong side of the River Sark...

This is how the anti-devolutionist's  played it in 1979. 

Obviously their arguments haven't changed much, although the fear of the scarily titled 'Assembleymen' is delightfully reminiscent of a time when the ladies were expected to sport purple bracelets with pride and have their man's tea ready at whatever time he strolled in from the pub at...

Surprisingly the TGWU ( remember them proper Unions) were all for Devolution. Interesting map of proposed devolved matters. We were to be given full control of shop opening hours! No mention of industry, energy or Antarctica...

Unfortunately the treachery of the Labour party conspired to stop Devolution and delay the right to self determination by another 18 years, yes that's right treachery, a horrible word to use about someone, a collective or even a political party, but yes treachery, is all I can think of describe the career of the likes of Baron Foulkes. Imagine it describing political opponents as traitors, horrible eh? A few short months after the referendum and these Labour politicians attached themselves firmly to the public teat and haven't let go since...

Here's some err vintage footage culled from the interweb to illuminate MLords Foulkes and Forsyth''s take on Scotland and how her aspirations can be thwarted...Naturally any association between myself and former visitor to this blog, Montague Burton is err purely coincidental.

Scotland in pole position...

The list of some of the more, shall we say, minor powers, exclusively reserved to Westminster under the Scotland Act 1998 have long tickled my ulnar nerve... aka funny bone.

Amongst those ever so tangibly close powers, we have the following:

• Control of film classification 

• Weights and measures 

• Regulation of the professions

• Betting, gaming and lotteries 

• Health and safety

• Public lending right

• Judicial salaries

• Equal opportunities

• Control of weapons of mass destruction

• The ordnance survey 

• Time 

and finally the most bemusing of all reserved powers - Outer Space...

It is odd this belief in Westminster that we cannot be trusted with Outer Space. Are we universally incapable of drawing up a risk assessment with regard to Alien invasion? Would we forbid Richard Branson from blasting off into the bright blue yonder? A look at the other reserved powers suggests there's a fear that we'd go mad and reduce judges salaries to Job seekers Allowance and expenses? Would we classify 'Debbie Does Dollar' as PG? Would we start charging for lending library books? Aargh, the sheer complexity of it all.

Given our particular uselessness I was hard pushed to stifle a snort of derision this week, upon discovering the news that the Westminster had forgotten to include control of the continent of Antarctica among the big list entitled 'Whatever-You-Do-Don't-Let-Jock-Touch-This'. Aka The Scotland Act 1998

It simply beggars belief that the British government which until a mere 90 years ago held sway over almost a quarter of the Earth's total land area, simply forgot about everything below 60 degrees South, you know, the 660,000 square miles of cold icy bit at the bottom of the planet, South Pole, intrepid chaps going for short walks in the snow etcetera.

Naturally, the parliament of whores, are up in arms about this outrageous oversight. Venerable Lords are shrieking like petulant children blaming incompetent ministers of the previous Labour administration, yeah, that never gets old. They're demanding that this piece of geopolitically important tundra be returned to the control of Blighty so that it may be plundered and pillaged of whatever natural resources lie beneath its increasingly slushy surfaces. I'd advise the Scottish Government to ca canny over this particular frozen dilemma. I mean, what an ace card to hold...'you want us to take how much of your debt into an Independent Scotland?'

Just this morning, that delightful internet repository for all things dribbling and  Tory, Conservative Home addressed the issue. The author, JP Floru an interesting young chap from Belgium, a former Taxpayers Alliance bod and now Westminster Councillor and Head of Programmes at the Adam Smith Institute set out his views on the lost continent. This handsome young migrant who cites Reagan, Thatcher and err Boris Johnson as his inspirations, blithely ignores the dubious question of who owns what within the UK set up and sails an icebreaker through the Antarctic Treaty System. The Treaty (ATS) regulates all International relations with regard to Antarctica. Tintin junior sets forth a rallying call to defend the right of Blighty to kick Johnny Foreigners what happen to live closer to Antarctica, particularly Chile and the English bete noir, Argentina, out of the frozen tundra. Odd really given that the Antarctic Treaty Secretariat are housed in err Buenos Aires. 

Monsieur Floru appears to have little in the way of qualms about easing back on the boring old scientific experiments of the biologists, geologists, oceanographers, physicists, astronomers, glaciologists, and meteorologists who while their hours away playing tig with penguins and cracking seal jokes, but fair salivates at the prospect of getting at some of those "vast mineral deposits under its icy carpet and its continental shelf". In a passage that reeks of 19th century venture capitalism on viagara he roars:

"While I do not dispute that some parts should be kept for environmental reasons, keeping a continent which is 55 times the size of the UK is excessive. I can see no justification to restrict so vast a territory to the sole enjoyment of a handful of privileged scientists and about 50,000 tourists annually. Neither do I see how the whole of mankind is served by closing the door to Antarctic exploitation."

Hmmm mmm, them's some mighty good minerals under that there icy carpet just a waiting for exploitation.

Fortunately Article 7 of the Protocol on Environmental Protection to the Antarctic treaty (1991) prohibits, "Any activity relating to mineral resources, other than scientific research."  Sadly Article 7 runs out in 2041, by which time rapacious mineral hungry whores will have probably spread enough largesse around to open up the legs of some of the more coy politicians around the world, and much like the virgin territories of Alaska, they'll soon be poking their diamond tipped hard-ons into the ground in search for more carbon based product. 
The latest thinking from the scientists who have been running about with test tubes wearing fur lined lab coats in Antarctica is that the hole in the Ozone layer, directly above them is due to close over in 2065. How stupid would humanity be, to have supposedly solved a problem by cutting back on the wholesale spewing out of chlorofluorocarbons, only to expose ourselves to more risk by opening 'the door to Antarctic exploitation'?

 

All of which brings me neatly back to those silly billies at Westminster and their remiss lapse in concentration in devolving control of all UK Antarctica rights to Auld Scotia. A progressive, caring, greener, fairer, more sharing Scotland, whether Independent or not, could quite simply declare that the section that we supposedly own/control is to have no mineral extraction on it for a thousand years or whenever Scotland wins the world cup, whichever comes first. That might firm the resolve of those poor overstressed Unionist politicians hungrily gobbling at the teat of big carbon energy companies...

Of a' the airts the wind can blaw

Despite Distorting Scotland ignoring/relegating the £100 million investment by Samsung Heavy Industries in Scotland, to the fluffy window filler somewhere between a really important story about a safety hat wearing Polar bear and views of a former banker having his ceremonial sword shoulder tapping withdrawn. I'm a thinking this is excellent news for the future of an Independent Scotland. Naturally our superiors at the beeb thought a story decrying Scotland's world leading climate targets was more important...

However, those clever coves at Kyushu University in Japan have come up with a design that is simplistic, genius and potentially up to three times more effective than conventional wind turbines. It's uniquely suited to Scotland and something I hope Samsung are exploring in their new European offshore wind project.

 

As the article below points out building the turbines in the hexagonal base style leaves them suitable for aqua culture. Imagine a few of these anchored off the west coast providing clean energy and tasty salmon...

Scotland at the heart of the world.

Loving it, one of mine is in there...

Scotland the world over. 1507 entries, 715 photos, 32 countries, 2 months between St Andrews Night 2011 and Burns Night 2012

'Time to Get Rid of English Spongers!' Rab puts the boot in...

I've been awfy busy lately and missed much of the cut and thrust of the Indy Referendum.

Of the few hours I've managed to get online and peruse the various thoughts of the pro-Independence versus anti-Independence viewpoints, the following from the illustrious Rab McNeill writing for the Belfast Telegraph as the antithetical Daily Mail/Telegraph/Express/Scotsman anti-Independence mouthpieces AKA the toadish and repellent Quentin Letts/Cochran/Maddox triumvirate.

Come on Rab with 2014 approaching like a Union Jack wrapped half brick lobbed with great gusto, it's time we your devoted readers had a chance to read you in a more permanent setting. Get yersel a blog man, it's easy peasy.

Rejoice!

Reflections on a folly.

As a feller with too much times on his hands and a zealous desire to smite porkies and fibs promulgated by those delectable anti-Independence coves in the British media, I was somewhat struck in the awe, when I happened upon an article in the FT t'other day there. The happy journalist one, Kiran Stacey, appeared to be suggesting that not only should Scotland give up all our claims on North Sea oil revenue, but also that we should also assume the debts of all banks and agree to allow the Chancellor of the Exchequer Droit de seigneur with all Scottish women in possession of child bearing thighs, in addition any future offspring born in Auld Scotia from this coupling would be christened Gideon. 

A look at the comments section beneath the article, was akin to wading through a fetid swamp of daily mail gibberish whilst wearing only in a tight fitting mini kilt and a frayed string vest. I was however, struck by some chap going by the appellation 'Bonzo' who seemed to infer that the very notion of Scottish Independence was sheer folly, and cited the National Monument of Scotland as evidence for our genetic propensity to suck, in the old arena of achievement. Now, to be perfectly honest, I'd never given the folly atop Calton Hill in Embra much thought, I'd see it the odd times whilst looking out of an office window in the parliament, or whilst trudging up the hill from Waverley station to the High Street. Being a typical denizen of weegieland it never impinged on my consciousness, other than the thought that Edinburgh isnae very good at finishing things, like err trams and parliament buildings...

So, despite being in possession of a history degree from one of our other ancient seats of learning, I realised this gap in my knowledge and embarked on a wee cyber road of discovery about our National Monument of Scotland.

Francis Watt writing in 1912 in his hugely extensive and pertinent record of 'Edinburgh and The Lothians' describes it thus:

'There are two pretentious and costly structures on the Calton about which it is hard, honestly, to make up one’s mind or purge the soul from prejudice. The first is the National Monument. When, after Waterloo, the minds of men were uplifted, it was determined to commemorate the victory by a great monument—nothing less than to reproduce the Parthenon. The pillars cost £1000 each, but only twelve were completed. Funds failed and the thing stuck. It has ever since been a laughing - stock. "Scotland’s pride and poverty" it was called, but it was not a mere question of money. The great war was too much connected in people’s minds with a system of government and dissolute and selfish rulers to excite real national enthusiasm. It were easy today for many a wealthy Scotsman to complete it; perhaps it will be, and re-dedicated to something else; but then is it not better as it is? Is not the look of ruin a distinct advantage? Ah, but the sham of it all! and that is what imagination boggles at.' 

Hysterical Scotland record its genesis as follows:

'The idea of a National Monument to honour the dead of the Napoleonic Wars was first suggested by the Highland Society of Scotland in 1816. The decision to have a separate monument for Scotland was highly significant culturally and politically. Some argued that the function of commemoration would be more appropriately fulfilled by a single British monument in London. However, following Edinburgh's more overtly pro-Union stance in the later eighteenth century, it was felt by many that Edinburgh, and Scotland in general, although part of the Empire, should be able to express their individuality and national identity. The situation was likened to that of Athens under Roman rule, subsumed into a wider empire, but seen as stronger in terms of intellect and culture. Edinburgh was therefore beginning to be seen as Athens to London's Rome, a claim which was strengthened by Scots achievements during the Enlightenment, and the extensive adoption of the Greek Revival style of the architecture of Edinburgh in the early nineteenth century. '
   
It strikes me as somewhat incongruous that it was the Highland Society who first suggested this hubristic homage to the fallen soldiers, a Parthenon to the cannon fodder who laid down there life for King and Country. I say incongruous, as I'm reminded of the many accounts of near limbless or partially sighted Highland soldiers returning to their ancestral homes from the killing fields of Waterloo to discover the timbers of their house pulled down by the factors of aristocratic estate owners and their families sitting by the quayside waiting on the boat to Canada. Hindsight allows me to suggest that a public subscription to provide homes for Highlanders cleared from their ancestral land, may have been more popular than an attempt to glorify Empire and Union.

The laying of the foundation stone was rushed forward to coincide with Sir Walter Scott's Disneyesque PR exercise in parading the wee fat German Lairdie's great grandson, King George IV, around Edinburgh for a fortnight in August 1822. Jing's it'll be the 190th anniversary later this year! The visit of George IV was reported as a great success, with Scots allowed to wear a somewhat alien form of the tartan again and the tailoring industry coining it in by inventing tartans for lowland aristocracy, determined not to be left out of the Heraldic beano.  Highland clan chieftains determined to show off the pomp and pageantry by having their troops parade through the city and quash rumours of the beastly rumours of a campaign of land clearances. Unfortunately, as the clan chiefs returned from their Southern estates, they were somewhat dismayed to discover that their personal troop numbers were somewhat depleted by the ... err, highland clearances.

This may sound a wee bit familiar, but in 1825-6 a banking crisis hit the financial institutions of both London and Edinburgh. Pleas for additional funding to be made to this vainglorious monument fell on deaf ears. It appears that in 'Regency England' we were indeed all in it together. By 1829 the decision was taken to abandon the project. And there it has sat ever since as a testament to the folly of aristocratic mortals aping the classics.

It has been described throughout the ages variously as 'Edinburgh's Shame', 'Scotland's Disgrace' and rather eloquently as 'The Pride and Poverty of Scotland'. I get what Mr Bonzo of the FT was saying, allusions of the organisation difficulties of combining piss ups and breweries spring to mind about Scotland's compelling ability to shoot ourselves in the collective feet. Naturally there have been many plans to resurrect and complete the Monument atop Calton hill over the last 190 years. They've ranged from the rather touching and humanistic Tibetan peace poles, to further Empire polishing as a tribute to Queen Victoria and even, yes, even, in 1907, further funding was called for to create a lasting monument to the then 200 year old 1707 Act of Union. Oddly enough even 105 years ago at the height of Empire and Union strength, the good burghers of Edinburgh and the citizens of Scotland thought that was stretching credulity too far, and so, there it sits the haunt of tourists, firedancers and the demi monde of Auld Reekie. 

Naturally I doubt Mr Bonzo's slur on Scotland's inability to complete and carry through grand schemes. If anything history teaches us that true achievements come about not through artifice and throwing money at an idea, instead genuine achievement comes from the people, from a movement, who (if you'll excuse me purloining the word) 'unite' behind an idea whose time has come. 

Perhaps if Walter Scott and his noble chums had chosen a different builder to complete the monument it may have been completed and Scotland would have no desire to end the Union and this inate desire for Independence would dwell among the swivel eyed and many tongued. The builder they chose? His company was called 'William Wallace and Sons.'