For me, Scottish independence was a preference rather than an all-consuming passion. Although, as the subterfuges and misinformation of the No camp gathered pace throughout 2013 and 2014, it was difficult not to become emotional about independence.
Watching that dismal cohort of English C-listers from media and entertainment walking up Buchanan Street just prior to September 14 was a moment of peak revulsion. “Look at us,” they were saying, “we’re really important people, so you should listen to us.”
There often seemed to be an element of ridicule when prominent No campaigners dismissed aspirations of self-determination: too wee; too stupid; too poor. Yet, even David Cameron had acknowledged that an independent Scotland had all the attributes to make a success of independence.
Then they insisted on slandering ordinary Scots with false claims that the referendum campaign had been divisive and nasty and that families and communities were being torn apart. The UK Electoral Reform Society would later confirm that the process had been an uplifting one. Many thousands of people who had previously felt excluded from the political process had found their voices.
There was something rather magical about belonging to the generation which had restored full independence. That said (and let’s speak frankly here), there were a lot of worse positions to be in than belonging to a union with jolly old England.
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