Reflections On The Revolution In Scotland

Despite Scotland's loss in tonight's referendum, an irreplaceable example of democracy and a mortal blow to the monarchy has been delivered.

Independence is a remarkably easy thing to take for granted. Living where I do, through no effort or sacrifice of my own, I daily enjoy the benefits delivered by my country without ever fully thinking about or recognizing what those benefits consist of. That realization made being able to witness tonight's Scottish independence referendum live something of a lesson in where my countrymen and I have fallen short of our democratic ideal.

"Bitch, bitch, bitch. I didn't hear you making any suggestions."

Years in the making, with a fever pitch reached in the last month, the buildup to the referendum fascinated me. The wheedling promises delivered by Britain, the thinly-veiled threats of Scotland being somehow left out in the cold by gaining independence, the nonsensical and distracting arguments over currency, all played out tonight district by district. Live coverage on anything other than BBC showed static shots of the smaller polling places, the BBC itself went with more of a CNN feeling. Multi-pundit panels discussed incoming speculation while useless holograms floated polling data and a map of Scotland produced by Atari through the room like the unwelcome wafted aroma of a crypt.

The results began slowly, and the head pundit frantically cut off the panel exchange that was struggling to retain civility to introduce us to the first of a string of ballot officials walking to a podium in a gymnasium. The production department had tried to give the event an air of majesty but the construction crew and the video crew had failed to coordinate their efforts, resulting in a carefully dressed stage made ridiculous by the cameraman pulling back to include the crowd and the pitifully minimal arrangements that had been made. The official began their recitation, clearly worded to simply deliver the voting results in as straightforward a manner as humanly possible. District, population and turnout, hard numbers up and down, accounting of why each discarded ballot had received their disposition. This last bit fascinated me: unclear mark, mark in favor of both options, no mark, all easily understood. The last reason for a ballot being disregarded was for having a mark which would identify in some way the citizen who had cast it. Now, seeing as this ballot had a spot for “Yes” and a spot for “No,” the initiative and creativity to fuck that up impresses me to no end.

"Where do I pick my side dishes?"

By 9pm Pacific Time (5am Glasgow) the district results were being announced so regularly that the BBC anchors stopped covering the feed from each district immediately after the hard numbers, as by then we had all listened to the mundane list of reasons for discounted ballots more than a dozen times. The cheers that came from each pronouncement of a “No” district victory were those of animal revelry, immediate and overwhelming but carrying with it a wave of exhausted relief, as if an immense wave had broken before reaching their homes. The timid-looking and mousey ballot officials reciting their result script scarcely seemed to know if they should speak through the uproar for the benefit of the record or stand in uncomfortable anticipation of the crowd's abatement.

Picture a tinier version of this dapper gentleman.

By 9:45p (5:45a Glasgow) there were roughly six districts left to report, and they were taking their sweet time. This led to a forced conversation that lobbed between the panel members, interspersed with the ever-frustrating “Let's go to Twitter” breaks so we could find out what JuicyKitten548 had to say regarding the fate of the empire. Again some over-eager ponce was trotted out to waltz with hologram numbers, his delivery stilted and pausing due to the un-coordinated effects timing. It was then that I sorely missed the relative dramatic mastery of CNN and their resident Shakespearean genius, Wolf Blitzer. The BBC anchors tried so hard to reach his levels of mindless babbling and useless numbers, but sadly fell short of one of my nation's chief news outlets.

"For live results, here's a hologram of the second coming of Jebus."

Glasgow was the rearranged deck chairs on tonight's sinking ship. The BBC sound engineer working that polling station had clearly not prepared for the volume of the crowd's reaction, as the overwhelming response reduced the sound output to the furious crackling ocean noise of redlined microphones. The pride those people felt was incredible to witness.

As soon as BBC called the result, the shaming sting of loss and disappointment caused some online who had been optimistically watching their declining chances to turn on their countrymen and themselves. Nonsense was written about people being ashamed of being Scottish, accusations of their ancestors dying in war against the British for nothing, jeering insults about being the only country in history to vote against their own independence. What they didn't do was congratulate the rightly-proud people of Scotland for conducting themselves immensely well through what could not have been a more difficult referendum, something my home country doesn't always accomplish in the tidiest fashion. In addition, the ridiculously high voter turnout in most districts is nothing short of amazing and needs to be lauded. To learn that between 80% and 90% of the people who could vote chose to is not only a victory for the process, it shows the strength of the democratic system when used by an informed and motivated populace. Over 1.5 million residents of the United Kingdom voted to no longer be a part of it. The biggest city in Scotland, the roughly 600,000-strong Glasgow, voted to be independent. Aberdeen voted no, but Groundskeeper Willie could not be reached for comment.

Pictured here not commenting.

Regarding the matter of a people rejecting their own independence, this slight turns out to be technically false, as a handful of people have voted down their own referendums for one reason or another. Nevis from St. Kitts, Tamil from the Sri Lankan diaspora, Veneto from Italy. Perhaps most similar to Scotland is the failed vote in 1933 to make Western Australia independent from Australia Prime, a voting process which the British Parliament ignored in its entirety, and which would have provided a template for Parliament to deal with this bothersome little uprising if only Scotland wasn't so indignantly right-next-door. Soon comes Catalonia's referendum seeking independence from Spain, which is set for the ninth of November of this year, and is being actively opposed by the Spanish government.

That worked out okay, as I recall.

It's unthinkable to me to vote against one's own independence, but I expect there will be reams of analysis over the next week that will explain to me why it was the best and only choice, no doubt glazed with fawning reverence for the hideous royals and their Skesis-like matriarch. It would appear that, despite the negative outcome of the independence vote, a severe blow has still been dealt against the monarchy. The frenzied promises, from tax levying to Tesco's, must now be followed through with by Parliament, with proposals scheduled to be presented at the beginning of next year. Despite the apparent willingness of the British Parliament to grow and adapt in order to accomplish their “devolution” and of the majority of Scotland's citizens to believe them, it still strikes me as not having the courage to bet on yourself to win, deciding to never leave your parents' home and succeed or fail on your own terms.