Showing posts with label Self-government. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Self-government. Show all posts

Monday, 30 October 2017

A clash of principles

In relation to the situation in Catalunya, much has been made of the statement in the UN Charter about the right of peoples to self-determination.  It’s a clear enough statement, but as I posted previously, the problem comes in determining what defines a ‘people’ – or perhaps who defines a people.  There simply is (and I doubt that there can ever be) a simple objective test which can be applied.  So the Spanish authorities use the definition that suits their objectives whilst the independentistas in Catalunya use the one that suits theirs.  And there is no independent authority which can decide that one is right and the other wrong.  To, I’m sure, the great surprise of no-one, I support that Catalan side; but I also go further and question why ‘being a people’, however it is defined, is a necessary requirement for the exercise of self-determination.  Imposing what is, in essence, a subjective test with no objective ‘right’ answer seems an unnecessary obstacle to me.
In addition, there’s the question of context.  Whilst the Charter does not make this explicit, it is quite clear – as the authorities in Madrid would argue – that the context of the Charter was the period of decolonization, and the intention of the relevant article was to support the rights of the former colonies.  In that particular wave of colonization and conquest, places such as Catalunya (and the same applies to Scotland and Wales) were part of the process of colonization and conquest rather than the victims of it.  But, of course, if we go back further in time, they were part of an earlier phase of conquest and consolidation, as the historic European states were created.  So – is there to be a time limit on the right to self-determination?  Because that’s effectively what the Spanish state is arguing, isn’t it?
To further complicate the situation, there is another widely-accepted tenet of international law, which is that states have a right to territorial integrity.  Spain is, to an extent, relying on that principle, and much of the response from other European states has been based on that principle as well.  There is, though, a context to that principle as well.  It was accepted by European states as a basis for ending wars of aggression over territory, by accepting the boundaries as they stand today, and agreeing not to seek to change them by force, and was intended to be a means to put an end to centuries of bloodshed and war.  And it has, no doubt, been a contributory factor.  It hasn’t stopped states arguing over boundaries (for example, Spain’s own claim to Gibraltar), but it has prevented the argument going much beyond shouting.
The context, though, was never intended as an insistence that there could never be any change at all (and, in the situation of Gibraltar, Spain actually accepts that to be true), nor was putting an end to externally-imposed territorial change ever intended to be the same as insisting that states created out of a process of aggregation could never disaggregate if the people chose that, although it is ‘convenient’ for Spain – like the other aggregated states – to pretend that to be the case.  But demanding that people accept that the state of which they find themselves a part is their lot in life, which they have no choice but to accept as an unchangeable fact, goes directly against the principle of self-determination.
Two key principles of international law, in the context of Catalunya, are in direct conflict, and there is no international body or organisation which can rule between the two.  Ultimately, the only people who can decide the future of Catalunya are the people of that country/region themselves.  The tragedy of today’s situation is that it is the direct result of a refusal to allow them to make that choice in a peaceful and democratic fashion, but instead insist on imposition, by force if necessary.

Wednesday, 8 March 2017

Defining nationality

Hot on the heels of the PM’s visit to Scotland, there was a piece by Melanie Phillips in yesterday’s Times setting out why Scotland has no valid claim to independence.  The piece itself is behind the paper’s paywall, but here’s a link to an archived copy, for which I thank Wee Ginger Dug, who was one of those commenting on it yesterday.  My first reaction was to check the date; but April 1st is still some way off, so I suppose we have to treat it as a serious statement of her views.  If I’d tried to parody the position of some unionists, I doubt that I’d have done better.
In essence, her argument seems to be that only ‘nations’ have the right to seek independence, and since Scotland (like Wales and Ireland) is not a nation, it has no such right.  ‘Britain’ is the only ‘nation’ in these islands, and no-one has the right to seek to split that nation into two or more parts.
She has a clear notion in her own mind about what constitutes a nation, although what exactly that might be is not actually articulated.  But given the detail of her comments, it is obviously highly dependent on history (Ireland’s nationality is dismissed as tenuous largely because the republic has existed for less than 100 years).  I have a number of problems with such a definition, even leaving aside the fact that her grasp of the history of these islands seems to be a bit, shall we say, shaky.  (And the idea that the peoples inhabiting these islands in Roman times, and even before that, saw themselves as being in any sense of the word a ‘nation’ invites ridicule.)
However, the question of what is or is not a nation is far from a simple one to answer, and I say that as one who has spent decades trying to arrive at a definition which satisfies me.  Of course, history, territory, language, place of birth, and institutions can all be factors in leading people to a perception of nationality, but the key words there are “perception of nationality”.  People believe themselves to be Welsh, English, Scottish, British, or whatever, and it seems to me impossible to escape the conclusion that nationality is ultimately something subjective.  If different people can look at the same range of factors and come to different conclusions about their own nationality, then the idea that the nation is some objectively definable construct becomes impossible to sustain.
Ultimately, a nation exists because people believe that they are part of it; all the external factors mentioned above may strengthen or weaken that perception, but it is the perception that gives existence to the nation.  From that perspective, nationality is also fluid; it can change over time.  As evidence for that view, polls have consistently shown a trend in Wales for people to move away from self-identifying as solely British towards identifying as solely Welsh – with plenty of people in between those extremes who consider themselves to be both, to a greater or lesser degree.
It can also be complex; I’ve known independentistas over the years who have tried to argue that everyone must choose to which nation they belong, because they cannot be both Welsh and British.  My reaction is to ask simply “why not?”  If there are people in Wales who consider themselves to be both Welsh and British (and there are – I know plenty), then who are we to tell them they’re wrong, or not allowed to be what they consider themselves to be?  That is to seek to impose a definition of nationality on people, which seems to me to be counter-productive, even if anyone were actually to believe it to be desirable.  And that wish to impose a definition seems to me to be part of what Phillips was seeking to do in the article.  A unionist telling people that they are British, whether they like it or not, is as futile as an independentista telling people that they are Welsh whether they like it or not.  If the only way a nationality can project itself into the future is by seeking to impose itself on all those who live within its territory, then it’s probably already doomed.
However, my second disagreement with the article is perhaps even more fundamental – who decided that only ‘nations’ can govern themselves?  For those of us who believe that sovereignty is a bottom-up phenomenon rather than a top-down one, any group of people living in a defined area always have the right to determine how they should be governed.  It’s a viewpoint which can lead to conclusions which are uncomfortable to many independentistas, I know, but it’s at least based on a clear principle, which is about the rights of peoples inhabiting an area.  What is the principle that allows anyone to determine which groups of people have a right to self-government and which do not?  What is so sacred about ‘nationality’ as to make it inviolable?  (And that latter question is as much a challenge to independentistas as it is to unionists.)
The question as to whether people should choose to exercise their right to self-government is a separate one to deciding whether the right exists.  There are practical issues which are likely to deter individual groups or communities from seeking to exercise such a right, of course.  And it is always far more likely people will choose to exercise that right if they feel that they have a shared identity or nationality: that is why most movements for self-determination are built on a concept of nationality leading to a common desire to shape their future.  But it isn’t the only conceivable basis, nor can it be.
The article by Phillips seemed to me to be, in a way, another slant on the idea of British exceptionalism, a concept which underpins the established order in the UK.  But in trying to give an artificial and unique historical validity to one particular nationality, and one particular conception of nationality, it also exposes the sheer lack of real substance supporting the whole edifice of British nationalism and exceptionalism in the 21st Century.  For that, we should surely be grateful.  

Tuesday, 19 May 2015

Banging on about the constitution

There are those who consider that achieving independence for Wales is really not the most important thing right now; that the immediate problems such as jobs, housing, and education are much more important to people in their daily lives.  So why do I keep banging on about the constitution?
My answer depends partly on whether one sees independence as an end in itself or as just a means to an end, and partly on the importance of process as well as outcomes.  Those two factors together help to explain why I’ve sometimes referred to myself as an accidental nationalist.
There are certainly many nationalists who see independence as an end in itself, which simply involves transferring power from one set of institutions and politicians to another set of institutions and politicians, based on a different set of territorial boundaries.  The basic processes remain the same; power is exercised at the centre by an elected government.  Cardiff is Westminster writ small. 
It’s a conventional and unimaginative approach, which simply replicates the same resistance and obstacles to change in a different place.  And if that is all that there is to independence, then I’d find it impossible to argue that it should be any sort of priority over the bread-and-butter issues which I referred to above.
But some of us believe that the Westminster model is an irreparably broken system; it’s unamenable to reform, it works for the interests of the few rather than the many – economically, socially, and geographically – and is a barrier to the sort of change which would fully address those bread-and-butter issues.  It’s also an inherent barrier to participation rather than a means of facilitating it.  It’s part of a world order which sees big as being good, and power as theirs to exercise.  In that context, independence isn’t just about institutions; it’s about establishing a process which can facilitate more fundamental change.
My purpose in advocating independence is not simply to replace one bunch of politicians with another, but to change the way things work much more fundamentally; to put power back in the hands of the people where it belongs and for people to be more directly involved in the process of running their society.  Self-government means more than transferring power from one institution to another; it’s about ‘self’ government in a much wider sense for people and communities.
And that’s where my second emphasis comes into play.  Process is important.  The sort of independence that I want to see won’t come about by electing politicians to make laws; it will come about because people are convinced that it’s the right thing for their future.  It will be achieved by people rather than done to them. 
One of the most exhilarating aspects of the Scottish campaign leading up to September’s referendum was the increasing level of direct involvement of people who had never engaged in political activity before, largely outside the party political system.  Whilst I’m delighted with the subsequent electoral success of the SNP, I know that I’m not alone in worrying about the danger that all that new energy ends up being channelled back into a more conventional type of party-based politics for the long term, rather than simply using conventional politics as a short term instrument. 
In Wales, we can only dream about the sort of movement which built up so much steam in Scotland last year – seeing the Welsh equivalent being put back in the box is the least of our worries.  And my underlying point in a series of recent posts has been that telling people that even the replacement of one institution with another – let alone changing the nature of the institution – is impossible for the foreseeable future is a remarkably ineffective way of laying the groundwork for that much wider programme of change.
The process of getting from where we are to where we want to be is not the property of any politician or party; it belongs to all of us.  The mere election of people to an institution is an abdication, rather than an exercise, of people power.  The job of any politician who really wants meaningful change is to lead and inspire the people to demand it, not just to seek election to office which they can use to impose rather more limited change by passing laws.
As we saw in Scotland last year, a real campaign for independence is as much about process as outcome – actually, maybe even more so.  That point needs to be better understood in Wales.