On scorning Nationalists....

Over the festive piece, inspired by this from the Philosophical Zombie, I revisited George Orwell's collected essays, including his (1945) Notes on Nationalism. For all of Orwell's attention to the clarity of his prose, it is a piece of writing which is actually quite difficult to understand and understand in a sustained way. Still worse for those eager to extract a stinging quotation to wound a nationalist opponent, who tend to ignore the idiosyncratic way in which Orwell defines his "nationalisms". Calling it a "habit of mind", an "emotion", Orwell emphasises that:

"By ‘nationalism’ I mean first of all the habit of assuming that human beings can be classified like insects and that whole blocks of millions or tens of millions of people can be confidently labelled ‘good’ or ‘bad’. But secondly — and this is much more important — I mean the habit of identifying oneself with a single nation or other unit, placing it beyond good and evil and recognising no other duty than that of advancing its interests. Nationalism is not to be confused with patriotism. Both words are normally used in so vague a way that any definition is liable to be challenged, but one must draw a distinction between them, since two different and even opposing ideas are involved. By ‘patriotism’ I mean devotion to a particular place and a particular way of life, which one believes to be the best in the world but has no wish to force on other people. Patriotism is of its nature defensive, both militarily and culturally. Nationalism, on the other hand, is inseparable from the desire for power. The abiding purpose of every nationalist is to secure more power and more prestige, NOT for himself but for the nation or other unit in which he has chosen to sink his own individuality."

It is not my purpose here to launch into a sustained analysis of Orwell's position or the subset of nationalist sentiment he was analysing. However, Orwell's commentary strikes me as an interesting starting point upon which to found a subsequent discussion. In a piece late last year on the Scottish variable rate ballyhoo, I touched on one curiosity of my Scottish nationalist experience. I joined a group of close cronies who had determined to stow themselves comfortably in a pub with drink and grub to outlast a dreich winter day. One of the folk there was an English chap  who had been educated in the sciences at the University of Edinburgh. Discussion turned to Scottish politics. A comrade in the company was minded to vote SNP in May. His English friend's eyes rolled back into his head, loftily declaiming "Oh God, not the SNP!" before drawling "You can't be serious..." Why, not? my friend demanded, taking this dubious soul through some of the the party's positions on notable public policy punch ups of the last decade with which he might be familiar and interested. I kept my own loyalties and my peace.

ID cards? Iraq? Student fees? Trident? He was unmoved.  Indeed, he agreed with the SNP on almost all of these issues - but his condescension towards nationalists simply could not be rebutted by outlining this series of perfectly reasonable, perfectly mainstream convictions which hardly furnish a solid basis to write one off as an addled fantacist. "What do you think of Alex Salmond?" I added, with just a touch of mischievous asperity. "Alex Salmond!" he huff-puffed. No explanation was forthcoming, merely gusty ridicule and the mute significance of rolled eyes. This struck me as a fascinating phenomenon - in part because it is so familiar. I've experienced a number of discussions with substantially the same content and atmosphere, where only the lines and arguments are re-jumbled and re-jigged somewhat. Nor, I must add, is it an archetypical debate limited to English folk with passing, scanty knowledge of Scottish politics. You can hear a similar refrain north of the Tweed. The tone is at its most striking when it emerges from the mouths of friends who have reason to credit you with a measure of sense and intelligence. It is always tickling fun to learn that you are a shortbread-tin fugitive from "reality" and a scandalously impractical and unserious political neep-heid. This tendency, curiously enough, does not appear to be diminished by the SNP's stint in government.  Like my English Scottish nationalist-bashing acquaintance, the pose seems to have the deep-rooted tenacity of a hardy perennial, defying argument, evidence or even a developed discussion. Eye-rolling dismissal forecloses the possibility. My point is not the tyrannical one that all reasonable persons having marshalled the facts must  support Scottish independence, nor am I suggesting that there are arguable reasons why one might doubt the Scottish nationalist project. It is precisely because this familiar dismissal is not predicated on those sorts of arguments that I find it interesting.  While some of its furth-of-Scotland manifestations can be attributed to a (not unreasonable) disregard and distance from matters Scottish, it is not uninteresting or insignificant that ignorance does not breed interest or a self-reflexive knowing distance - but instead seems to prompt this species of detached scorn so regularly.

It is at its most interesting when those selfsame speakers despise the Labour Party, Tories, Liberals and so. They'd apparently rather have the tidy "realistic" governance of a political party whose opinions they do not share. There is scorn there certainly, but of a crucially different pitch. In a further post later in the week, I'll speculate a little more about this interesting phenomenon. If this first reflective flutter prompted a thought or two,  or you have had similar knockabout experiences, do please share them. Thinking about these issues might be stimulated by snipping a note or two from Orwell's essay which I opened with.

"Obviously there are considerable resemblances between political Catholicism, as exemplified by Chesterton, and Communism. So there are between either of these and for instance Scottish nationalism, Zionism, Antisemitism or Trotskyism. It would be an oversimplification to say that all forms of nationalism are the same, even in their mental atmosphere, but there are certain rules that hold good in all cases."

Orwell further suggests these common features include (1) obsession (2) instability (3) indifference to reality. He further classifies "Celtic nationalism" as positive. This, not in the sense that is was desirable, admirable - but instead argues that:

"A nationalist is one who thinks solely, or mainly, in terms of competitive prestige. He may be a positive or a negative nationalist — that is, he may use his mental energy either in boosting or in denigrating — but at any rate his thoughts always turn on victories, defeats, triumphs and humiliations. He sees history, especially contemporary history, as the endless rise and decline of great power units, and every event that happens seems to him a demonstration that his own side is on the upgrade and some hated rival is on the downgrade."

Of this "Celtic nationalism", he contends that:

"CELTIC NATIONALISM. Welsh, Irish and Scottish nationalism have points of difference but are alike in their anti-English orientation. Members of all three movements have opposed the war while continuing to describe themselves as pro-Russian, and the lunatic fringe has even contrived to be simultaneously pro-Russian and pro-Nazi. But Celtic nationalism is not the same thing as anglophobia. Its motive force is a belief in the past and future greatness of the Celtic peoples, and it has a strong tinge of racialism. The Celt is supposed to be spiritually superior to the Saxon — simpler, more creative, less vulgar, less snobbish, etc.— but the usual power hunger is there under the surface. One symptom of it is the delusion that Eire, Scotland or even Wales could preserve its independence unaided and owes nothing to British protection. Among writers, good examples of this school of thought are Hugh McDiarmid and Sean O’Casey. No modern Irish writer, even of the stature of Yeats or Joyce, is completely free from traces of nationalism."

The central question remains unanswered. Why do people respond in this way? Why did my friend's friend refuse to countenance the idea that the SNP could be taken seriously? What assumptions, ideas, judgements make such a view plausible to those who warmly entertain it? How do different folk feeling the same scorn differ? My sense is that nationalists should take Spinoza's (presumably badly translated) sage saw as our starting point: "Do not weep, do not wax indignant. Understand." I intend to offer a thought or two on the whys and wherefores of the pervasive phenomenon of nationalist scorn later this week.