The campaign for Scottish independence that ended in failure last week aroused intense interest because it posed the most basic of all political questions, namely "What is a nation?" There are almost two hundred recognized nations in the world, but there could easily be two thousand if every independence movement succeeded. Nationalism is back with a vengeance: Uigars in China, Russians in Ukraine, French speakers in Quebec, Flemish speakers in Belgium – the list of restive minorities who want independence is enormous. Even a large, mostly English-speaking nation like the United States is really a patchwork of smaller nations pulling in different directions. What does California have in common with Kansas, except the same fast food chains? Would someone born and bred in Vermont feel at home in Texas? And we won't even mention the Civil War.
The driving force of all independence movements is simply that we like our own territory and way of life, and we tend not to like strangers. It's natural to prefer to live in a familiar place with people like us, and to be governed by people like us who speak the same language. It's the same with a family or a sports team or any group of people who have a lot in common. The impulse to divide the world into "Us" and "Them" may not be a noble one, but it most certainly is reassuring. How else can we know who we are?
The pressure to conform to the feelings of your own group is enormous. Part of the surprise of the recent Scottish vote I'm sure was that a lot of voters in the "no" camp were keeping a low profile because they felt they were on the wrong side of the "Us and Them" divide. This it brings us right up against the question of individual freedom, which we value so highly. How can you truly "do your own thing" if it is different from everyone else's thing? How can you be a team player if you have your own ideas about how to play? The answer is, you can't, and nor can I. We are the prisoners of our culture.
In a traditional society every tribe and village has a different culture, meaning a set of rules and traditions about how to live. Many of the people of Scotland feel strongly that they have their own distinctive culture, very different from what passes for culture in England where kilts and bagpipes are rarely seen. So every distinction becomes a source of conflict.
Yet at some level we love this cultural diversity. What a dull world it would be if France was the same as Alabama or Japan the same as Mexico. Cultures are rich, fascinating, inspiring, and they remind us every day that there are other ways to live and other ways to think. It's a question of drawing the line somewhere. Once you start calling every whim, habit, sectarian difference, and local prejudice a "national culture" there's no end to it. Some people won't be satisfied until they have their own personal country and the world is divided into seven billion independent fragments.
This is not one of those paradoxes that can be resolved in four minutes, or perhaps ever. But personally I'm glad I won't need my passport to get into Scotland. It's a lovely country, and of course it is a country whatever the politicians may say.
