In this post I want to
discuss the nature of solidarity in politics and the way the concept of solidarity
could inhibit imaginative responses to the referendum defeat. In the process I will
offer a warning about the dangers of sliding from enlightenment to romanticism.
[…]
I very much doubt the
Salmond landslide was delivered on the back of the manifesto commitment to holding
a referendum on independence.
I think it’s of paramount
importance that we all take a moment to remember this. How many of us were fervently
committed to independence before the last year or so? I certainly wasn’t. If you’d
asked me I would have preferred independence to being part of the union, but the
idea wasn’t keeping me awake at night. […]
The organisations and
individuals who gathered under the Yes umbrella have lots of different, and often
competing aims. And it’s far from clear that independence was or is the most pressing
priority for most of us.
Which is why I think we’re
in danger of mis-directing our energies in the aftermath of the defeat.
Fetishising independence
To repeat: for most people
in the Yes movement, independence was a means to an end. We weren’t voting yes because
we were obsessed with Scottish statehood. Many people were, and are, and that’s
fine. But I would be surprised if they comprised even close to half of the people
on the Yes side. Instead, what motivated most of us was the potential of independence
to make other, more important things happen.
So, the referendum created
a passion for independence among many of us, rather than reflecting one. We might
all have preferred independence to dependence beforehand, but we weren’t exactly
doing anything about it.
And the referendum was
itself the unexpected consequence of an unforeseen SNP landslide. Salmond’s election
victory, we may assume, was not delivered by voters switching to the SNP to bring
about a referendum. They switched because of other policies, even if they must have
been at least minimally comfortable with the SNP’s fundamental policy position.
All of which means we
must be careful not to recast our political culture as a battle between the Yes
and No sides in an independence referendum. We all had other priorities before we
got excited about independence, and those priorities remain urgent.
Let’s not make a fetish
of independence. We can still want to be independent, and we can support actions
that make it more likely. That’s fine. But there is a risk that the focus on independence
to the exclusion of everything else will make it harder for us to realise our more
important goals. And this is where the idea of solidarity becomes problematic. […]
That is, leftist exhortations
to solidarity reflect (a) a belief in shared working class experience, and class
oppression, (b) an intellectual commitment to supporting the workers/ the poor/
the subaltern everywhere, and crucially (c) a demand that people assent to an agreed
line.
It is the latter idea
which troubles me, and brings me back to my remarks in my introduction.
The language of this third
aspect of solidarity – of accepting the interpretation of history and plan of action
provided by the leadership – has crept increasingly into the more defiant branches
of the ongoing Yes movement.
This is especially palpable
in the world of social media, where contrary voices are being slapped down in worrying
fashion by self-appointed keepers of the Yes flame. […]
Well, a consensus has
emerged in certain Yes quarters around the following points:
1) the so-called 45% who
voted Yes were cheated of rightful victory;
2) those doing the cheating
included the mainstream media (which pumped out unionist propaganda) and the establishment
(loosely defined, but which reinforced the media’s line);
3) people did not vote
No on the basis of a reasoned view – they were either crazed loyalists, or idiots,
or cowards;
4) people who voted No
are traitors who bear responsibility for any policy devised by a party that campaigned
for a No vote; and
5) the worst criminals
of all are the BBC and the Labour Party, both of which should be eradicated in Scotland.
As a result of this catechism,
much of the residual Yes discussion centres around the following:
a) exposing the supposed
conspiracy to rig the referendum;
b) building a Yes-friendly
alternative media; and
c) punishing the Labour
Party by unseating all of its Scottish MPs in 2015.
[…]
Which brings me to my
next point: a certain kind of solidarity can actually kill off a movement. […]
And this sort of challenge
– which can be rephrased as “stop asking pertinent questions and submit to the superior
judgment of your leaders” – serves only to narrow a movement’s intellectual terrain.
If people are prevented
from asking questions or raising concerns, in order to preserve the veneer of agreement,
loyalty and discipline, then two things happen. Firstly, a narrower range of views
is allowed to circulate, decreasing the likelihood of an organisation having good
ideas. Secondly, people outwith the leadership circle, who aren’t allowed to dissent
from the prevailing orthodoxy, feel distanced and demotivated. […]
All of the above reflects
a tendency that alarms me greatly – a descent from enlightenment to romanticism
among the Yes movement. […]
There’s an analogy to
be drawn between the intellectual curiosity and polyphony of the Yes movement before
the vote, which was enlightened, and the sentimental songs, Jacobite references
and sense of national destiny peddled by some Yes groups these days, which is decidedly
romantic.
The emotional identification
with the idea of ‘the 45′ and the sense of the Yes voters as the true soul of
the Scottish nation, are suggestive of romantic notions of cultural authenticity.
The No voters aren’t really Scottish – they are traitors. […]
You can’t persuade a country
to change its constitutional status on the basis of sentiment – we need to engage
our reason. In short, we need to return to the spirit of enlightenment that characterised
the Yes movement, and shake off the dewy-eyed myth-making of the last few weeks.
This will involve ignoring the familiar entreaties to solidarity, and embracing
the uncertainties of debate.
Because politics is about
life, and life is complex. Our politics are therefore not just allowed to be complex
too – they have to be. […]
Don’t let anyone tell
you that the need for unity trumps the need for debate. Social movements can only
grow in an atmosphere of openness – and minds start to close when solidarity is
prioritised over difference.
'On solidarity', ianandcharlie, Promised Joy, 13 October 2014
http://faintdamnation.wordpress.com/2014/10/13/on-solidarity/
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