Britishness has no meaning without the arrogance of the presumption to possess which is everywhere Britain’s hallmark and calling card. It is for this reason people of colour – no matter how long their families have been established on these islands – find it impossible to construct a sense of their own British identities, thus compounding the crisis. By its degrees and categories of imperial domination Britain has become both the mother and the father of modern racism.
'Britain' is the acceptance of the unwritten yet implied reality that Great Britain is the de facto expanded English state as liege owner and suzerain of its nations-possessions.
We are after all talking about a state that shot and butchered its way around the world for the better part of three centuries, subjugating defeated nations by racialised and dehumanising categories into imperial slavery.
Great Britain has managed anything but the reconciliation of old rivals. On the day that the Act was passed in the Edinburgh parliament an English army was waiting at the Tweed and reinforcements had been dispatched to the north of Ireland.
Melanie Phillips has given us another candid glimpse behind the veil of unionism – of Britishness, of her Englishness. All too often we are presented with the soft – “Fluffy” – face of duplicitous unionism; with its talk of partnerships, equality, and mutual benefit.
We have to hope that we can win the next referendum and we have to work our hearts out to make sure that we do win. If we are defeated again we can be absolutely certain that Westminster will scorch the earth on which our ambitions have flourished.
This notion of “divisive nationalists” is a staple in the repertoire of every Scottish unionist. Somehow the idea that Scotland can and perhaps should be an independent country – a state in its own right – is treated, as if by magic, to be the only politically divisive issue.
What we have is an institution inhabited by people who rightly ought to be in an institution that lays claim to power and privilege on the grounds of magic, mystique, and… well, lies. It lives (read: thrives) on the taxpayer as a parasite