Politics

The SNP owns independence at its peril

The party has been happy to let independence be fought in largely its name alone. But that leaves a cause vulnerable to party-political fortunes

June 30, 2022
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Scottish first minister Nicola Sturgeon announcing the date for a new independence referendum in front of Holyrood this Tuesday. Image: SST / Alamy Stock Photo

Nicola Sturgeon’s announcement on Tuesday that she wants a new referendum on Scottish independence for October 2023—and that a request had been sent to the UK Supreme Court to make a call on its legality—was something of an anomaly, given recent British politics. It was a politician playing by the rules.

The first minister’s show of adherence to the rule of law may be as much about setting herself apart from her rule-breaking prime minister as it is about pragmatic realism, but it also doesn’t change the fundamentals very much. We already knew the only legal route to a second referendum was going to involve the Supreme Court. And we already know the arguments for and against staging a referendum, just as we know the arguments for and against independence itself, neither of which have moved an inch either way on the dial.

But beyond the questions here about legality or democratic legitimacy is one about the role of the SNP as the sole arbiter of independence. Because no matter how much is said by the Alba Party, or the Greens or All Under One Banner to the contrary, the cause of independence remains tightly linked to Scotland’s biggest political party in a way that—after 15 years in government—may not be sustainable.

The SNP is partly to blame for this situation, because for so long it was perfectly content for independence to be fought in its name alone. The cause needed coherence; it needed to speak with a single voice. The cut-throat, binary nature of British politics meant that broad coalitions between pro-independent but ideologically different parties was not viable in the way they are in Quebec and Catalonia. (The Scottish Greens are conveniently forgotten about come election time.) In Scotland, you’re either with us or against us: if you support independence, at Holyrood it’s got to be “both votes SNP.” Or so we were told.

And perhaps part of this insistence is informed by the SNP’s own traumatic history spent in the electoral wilderness, back when it first appeared as the merger between the very different centre-left National Party of Scotland and right-wing Scottish Party in 1934. It was only four and a half decades later, with the party’s “European turn” of the late 1970s—spearheaded by the 79 Group, a short-lived faction led by Alex Salmond and Margo MacDonald—that its members finally found the one thing they could agree on: independence in Europe. It was on a wave of new ideas about European integration that the SNP entered its most successful period, culminating in its current tenure in government.

The fallout from Brexit proves that a “European” vision for Scotland—of a social democratic and socially liberal country, with a “continental” approach to state ownership of public utilities and welfare—has lost none of its appeal. If anything, the last few years have given it renewed currency. And were the SNP in rude health, it would not even be an issue that this message has been mostly delivered by a single party. It’s no coincidence that the longest period of sustained support for independence came during the pandemic, at the same time Sturgeon had a daily audience to showcase her abilities as a level-headed and at times charismatic leader at coronavirus briefings. But more recent events prove that the SNP’s authority as the advocate for “independence in Europe” is increasingly in question.

Recent revelations that Ian Blackford told SNP MPs they should “give as much support as possible” to the party’s Westminster whip, Patrick Grady, after a sexual harassment complaint was filed against him by a teenage staffer will raise serious questions as to whether the party has learnt anything from its appalling handling of complaints against Salmond last year. (Blackford has since apologised for the party’s handling of the complaint against Brady.) Divisions on trans rights issues, in particular during the passage of the Gender Recognition Reform Bill, have rumbled on since 2016. The religious beliefs of finance minister and potential future leader Kate Forbes—who belongs to the anti-abortion, anti-same-sex marriage Free Church of Scotland—will begin to look particularly stark, given the fall of Roe v Wade in the US. Were Forbes ever to take on the mantle from Sturgeon, it would mark the biggest ideological shift in the party since the 79 Group—and with it a different idea about what independence means.

For now, maybe none of those cracks or potentialities matter: a little over one year from a prospective referendum is not enough time to fundamentally change the electoral arithmetic. Perhaps the SNP is hoping it can get one more shove for independence before the vision that has bound them for so long starts to fade away. But then if change no longer feels possible, what does that tell us about the nature of independence itself?