After Spiderman the only hero I
ever wanted to be was Atticus Finch. A burning sense of injustice is hard wired
into a teenager’s being. Reading that book I seethed, I wanted the whole town
to be destroyed in a tornado, I wanted justice. It is such a shock for a
teenage mind to realise that whilst combating the vicious stupidity of his
neighbours he never conflated that with hatred of them. That ultimately the
fight isn’t to defeat your neighbours but to learn to live with the bastards
and hope to change their minds, eventually.
Nuance comes less easy to a
teenager and so that lesson sticks hard. I think of it now as I hope
desperately that Scotland will vote “no”. I have always thought the Union worth preserving and nothing from the Yes campaign
has turned my head except perhaps the accusation that I am a pessimist or that
I’m betraying the radical left. Carol Craig, in her excellent piece on the
referendum, said something similar http://www.scottishreview.net/CarolCraig172.shtml.
I am perhaps not a
radical. I never lost faith in Obama because I never believed in fairies. To
me, getting any kind of health bill through the American system, was worthy of
Spiderman himself. At the same time I don’t believe an independent Scotland
will be the richest fairest nation of them all as many have claimed. I think we
would have 5 to 10 difficult years spent unpinning the two nations and that at
the end of it Scotland will have swapped one set of problems for another. To
me, change comes slowly and painfully, through co-operation and from firm
persistent pressure in the right direction. But that isn't the bit I wanted to
write about – because that has bugger all to do with Atticus Finch.
It’s that I started
to question the idea of solidarity that the Scottish left have which includes
jettisoning large numbers of people who've campaigned with them for decades. Though prodding the thought further my solidarity actually extends further than
that. It isn't just that I don’t want to live in a country without Scotland –
it’s that if I could stick all the UKIP and Tory supporters on a floating
island and push them off into the Atlantic I wouldn't do that either. I might
threaten to… but I wouldn't.
I start to wonder if
the impact of the 80’s on Scotland went deeper than we think. That not having
to live with Tories since has turned Tories from family we fight with and
struggle to understand to monsters from a foreign land. Once, I would have
thought that rather fun, but now I wonder if it isn’t actually quite harmful.
Because the world is getting smaller and we have to, and should, live with
everyone.
I've lived as a
Labour member in strong Conservative seats for many years now. I’m not a martyr
but I've turned up and campaigned in forlorn hopes and will again. I also have
quite a few Conservative friends. My grandmother was a staunch Conservative, I
loved her dearly. Separately, towards the end of her life my cousins and I
visited her in hospital and out of nowhere she started a speech on how she didn't understand why we couldn't have goliwogs anymore. We did confront her on
issues of race in the past, she didn't really understand, but she was also a
deeply loving and fiercely loyal grandmother. She was a great deal more
than her politics or prejudices and I miss her for the imperfect wonder she
was.
I hate many of the
things this government has done and is doing. I believe in reforming
Westminster and the devolution of powers. I’ll be out campaigning – though not
as much as I should – to kick them out in my constituency whilst on the lookout
for flying pigs.
What I don’t believe
is that we can build a better world on hating Tories. They are maddening, some
of them are real shits, but they’re still our brothers and sisters and mad
third cousins. They’re stumbling around as confused and uncertain as any of us.
If there’s a better world to be found I don’t believe it lies behind a
drawbridge. The better world is out there learning to live with the bastards.
Given the choice I’d still choose to stay right here trying to convince them
through friendship, strident debate and when all else fails drunkenly swearing
and calling them names. That may not be a radical position but I know I can’t
be a pessimist, because I’m still trying to live up to my teenage hero.
