Scotland

Danny Finkelstein's column in the Times today is characteristically elegant and incisive. In politics as in life he writes, "whatever apparent power and temptation lies with the adoption of the identity of victimhood it is ultimately destructive". Since Finkelstein is pondering lessons that may be drawn from the life of Nelson Mandela it may not be immediately obvious that the conclusion he reaches has some relevance to the campaign for Scottish independence. I better elaborate, then. Much has been said about how and why Unionists need a better "narrative" when making the case for Scotland as part of the United Kingdom. This is true. There is a need for a positive, optimistic, case for the Union. This is also true.

I don't really understand why politicians spend so much time talking to journalists. Most of the time little good can come from doing so. Of course, from a personal or professional perspective, this is fine and adds greatly to the gaiety of trade and nation. Nevertheless... Take, for instance, the reports in today's Financial Times and Daily Mail in which "senior" government sources stick their shivs into Alistair Darling. The leader of the Unionist campaign fighting next year's referendum on Scottish independence is, we are informed, "comatose most of the time". A different (I think) Downing Street figure complains that Darling is a "dreary figurehead". Meanwhile in the Mail, Gerri Peev finds another "senior parliamentary figure" who complains that Darling is "useless".

It is not surprising that the first Scottish opinion poll to be done since Alex Salmond published his White Paper on Independence last week would slip by almost unnoticed. After all, the attention of the Scottish media was somewhere else. It was focused, quite rightly, on events in Glasgow and the aftermath of the terrible helicopter crash there. As a result, the Progressive Scottish Opinion for the Scottish Mail on Sunday appeared and then, somewhat understandably, faded away quite quickly. It was a poll which, on most weekends, would have carried the front page for the paper. However, it was relegated to page 14 by the tragedy in Glasgow. It is, though, worth looking at because the results are most instructive.

It's bad enough being lectured by politicians from Edinburgh or even London. That, I suppose, is to be expected however. Irritating but normal. It's rather different when foreigners - real foreigners - decide to interfere in our own constitutional rammy. It smacks of impertinence. When that intervention comes from the leader - to put it in Sun-speak - of a nation of donkey-slaying, rock-coveting bankrupts it's even less respectable. So the suggestion made yesterday by Mariano Rajoy, Prime Minister of what we still call Spain, that an independent Scotland would, by creating a new country, need to reapply for EU membership is hackle-raising stuff. You're tempted to reply jog on, pal. Of course Rajoy's remarks are not about Scotland at all. They are about Catalonia.

The argument about Scottish independence which, it should be said, is not a new one is best understood in terms of the Overton Window. James Overton, an American political scientist, suggested that the general public is only prepared to contemplate a relatively narrow range of political opinions and policies. Those that fall outwith this window of plausibility are discounted; the task for politicians and other advocates is to shift the window so that ideas once considered heretical now appear orthodox common-sense. Overton suggested there were six phases to this process. A idea would move from being unthinkable to radical to acceptable to sensible to popular before, finally, becoming policy. Scottish independence is currently somewhere between acceptable and sensible.

This is not as obviously a Question to Which the Answer is No as it may initially seem. The Mayor of London is, in fact, well-placed to play a significant part in the campaign to persuade Scots their interests still lie within the United Kingdom. In the first place, as the titular leader of europe's greatest city he has no obvious or immediate dog in the fight. Neither Boris's reputation nor his future will be dented by a Scottish vote for independence. His Prime Ministerial plans - for we all still assume he has such plans - will not suffer if Alex Salmond wins next year's referendum. They might even benefit from such a result, not least because David Cameron's reputation - and legacy - will be crippled by a Yes vote.

The UK government knows that it plays into the SNP’s hands if it does anything which could be seen as trying to bully the Scots into voting no to independence. So, it has not said that the Scots would not be able to use sterling after independence but merely stated that this would be an issue for the rest of the UK too. The Welsh First Minister, though, has now come out and said that he would veto the creation of a sterling zone. This intervention by Carwyn Jones is one that the UK government had been waiting for, and expecting. It gets the message across without risking the accusation of bully-boy tactics or allowing the SNP to attack Westminster.

Somehow I managed to miss Iain Martin's praise for the manner in which David Cameron has "handled" the referendum on Scottish independence. Happily, John Rentoul has prompted me to take a keek at Iain's article which, somewhat uncharacteristically, concludes that the Prime Minister has "played a blinder". This, as Mr Rentoul cautions, is premature praise. We are asked to believe that Cameron has pursued a policy of masterly inactivity. It is also suggested that securing a single-question referendum was a masterstroke rather than, well, the obvious outcome of a negotiating process between Edinburgh and London that was much less dramatic, and much less important, than everyone agreed at the time to pretend it was.

You should never, these days, under-estimate peoples' ability to be outraged - outraged, I tells you - by the most innocuous event. Never. There are, after all, a depressing number of chippy morons in this country. Even so, I confess to being surprised by the hostility with which plans to commemorate the First World War have been met. At least in some quarters. I had thought, naively it is now clear, this commemoration would be uncontroversial, what with the First World War being, by any reckoning, an episode of some seriousness and consequence. That's hardly to say that the war's arguments have been settled. Far from it. Interpreting or understanding the First World War remains a complicated, delicate, business.

Something quite remarkable happened last week. David Cameron proposed a major change to the constitutional fabric of the United Kingdom and barely anyone noticed. The fact that Cameron’s proposal, subject to a referendum, to let the Welsh Assembly vary income tax rates garnered so little interest is a sign of how inured we have become to constitutional tinkering. But these constant constitutional changes are putting the Union at risk. If Scotland votes no to independence that won’t, as I say in the column this week, be an end to the matter. Everyone from Cameron to the Better Together campaign have reassured the Scots that if they vote no, more powers will be devolved to them. Tactically this is the best way to limit the yes vote, but strategically it is a mistake.

The sorry truth of the matter is that Glasgow has been in decline for a century. 1913 was the city's greatest year. Then it produced a third of the railway locomotives and a fifth of the steel manufactured anywhere in Britain. Most of all, it built ships. Big ships and many of them. A ship was launched, on average,  every day that year. In 1913, 23% of the entire world's production of ships (by tonnage) was built and launched on the river Clyde. It was an astonishing achievement and the high-water mark of Scottish industrial prowess. Ship-building, more than any other industry, became part of Glasgow's essence. The locomotives and the steel and the cars and the sewing machines might all disappear but so long as ships were still built on the Clyde something would remain.

It is a good thing that government ministers come to Scotland sometimes. It is a bad thing that they insist on opening their mouths when they do. Earlier this year we endured the spectacle of Philip Hammond making an arse of himself; today it has been Theresa May's turn to make one wish cabinet ministers would, just occasionally, contemplate the virtue of silence. The Home Secretary was in Edinburgh to warn that an independent Scotland would be a dangerous place. It would, in fact, be left out in the cold. It would not, you see, be part of the English-speaking-world's Five Eyes intelligence-poolling network. The UK, United States, Canada, Australia and New Zealand will continue to share information. Little Caledonia will be left on the outside, all forlorn, friendless and at risk.