Last week, a
video emerged
online showing a group of teenage boys having their anti-state-censorship
banner confiscated by the police.
Where was it filmed? Putin’s Russia?
Whichever Middle Eastern country Amnesty International is banging on about this
week?
Nope. It was filmed in Scotland. Modern, enlightened, ‘progressive’
Scotland, where the police and the government have developed a maniacal
obsession with suppressing speech in and around football grounds.
As these boys
found out, even protesting this state censorship has become a risky business.
The teenage boys in question, only
one of whom was over 17, were part of a protest outside the Hamilton vs Celtic
match last Sunday.
Passed by the ruling Scottish National Party in
2012, it allows fans to be arrested for any behaviour or speech deemed by the
ever-wise officers of Police Scotland to be ‘threatening’, to ‘express hatred
of a social or cultural group with a perceived religious affiliation’ (code for
the fanbases of Celtic and Rangers, who hail from traditionally Catholic and
Protestant areas of Glasgow respectively) and, naturally, any other behaviour
‘that a reasonable person would be likely to consider offensive’ (the
‘reasonable person’ presumably being whichever Police Scotland officer happens
to be within earshot).
And so it was that, overnight, Scottish judges were
given the green light to punish the beer-fuelled, oh-so-uncouth bellowing of
Scottish football fans, in particular supporters of Celtic and Rangers, whose
traditional chants are notorious for their ostensibly sectarian intent.
The act was passed off the back of
a moral panic about sectarianism in Scottish football. The Scottish elite,
staring with horror at the tribalism of the Old Firm rivalry, had a collective
flashback to the 1970s and cried Something Must Be Done – despite the fact that
real, full-on, frothy-mouthed sectarianism in Scotland was at an all-time low.
One recent survey found that, despite the traditional back-and-forth of
pro-Union and pro-IRA songs on match day, only one per cent of Glaswegians
today have had any serious experience of sectarianism. It really is just
banter.
Yet hundreds have fallen foul of the law. Eighty-seven fans were
convicted in its first year alone. Earlier this year, Scott Lamont, a Rangers
fan, was
jailed for four months for singing ‘The Billy Boys’, an old
loyalist sectarian favourite, on his way to the ground.
This dreadful act of
censorship was not the product of a genuine, grassroots clamour for a crackdown
on bigotry, but rather was fuelled by the prejudices of the sniffy Scottish
political set, which has a palpable fear and incomprehension of the lowly
football fan.
What’s so remarkable about last
Sunday’s act of state censorship is that the banner had no sectarian or offensive
content at all. It read: ‘SNPolice Scotland. FoCUS on your Failings Not on
Football.’
It was a nothing more than a nod to the SNP’s politicisation of
Police Scotland, and a reminder that football fans are not, by default,
potential criminals. Perhaps this was a mortal blow to these officers’
self-esteem?
The boys tried to enter the ground with the banner and, after
being turned away, displayed it on railings in the nearby Morrisons car park
facing the stadium. They’d even asked and gained the security guard’s
permission.
Yet, as is clear from the video, the police spotted the lads and
assumed, instinctively, that there must be some ‘dispute’ – that is, something
in need of police arbitration.
Only in the context of the Scottish football
ground, where fans are seen not as individuals but as an unpredictable pack of
attack dogs whose passions must be reined in, could such a startlingly stupid
assumption be made.
This is a new low for Police
Scotland, and that really is saying something. It’d be a mistake to think that
Police Scotland’s illiberal impulses are specific to football.
Despite a 38 per
cent drop in stop-and-search since April 2013, Scots are still stopped and
searched at
four times the rate of the English and Welsh.
In 2014/15,
the number of recorded searches on 16-year-olds in Glasgow was higher than the
number of 16-year-olds living in Glasgow.
Clubbers, too, have felt the firm hand of the Scottish bobby.
Last month, police
showed up unannounced outside Aberdeen nightclubs with
sniffer dogs and drug-test kits, knocking back clubbers who refused to
cooperate and dragging off those whose swabs came back positive.
This was later framed as ‘wasting police time’ and,
naturally, the evidence gathered during the nightly call-outs was used to justify
Glasgow City Council’s decision to rescind The Arches’ late license, ultimately
forcing the iconic venue into administration.
Of course, none of this is surprising under an SNP
government whose compulsion to meddle, nanny and nudge is woefully under-opposed.
This is the government that is battling to bring in minimum pricing on alcohol,
an illiberal measure that
even EU bureaucrats aren’t sure
about; that is trying to ban smoking in parks; that is planning to
bully Scots into being ‘smoke-free’ by 2034; and that is pushing through a ban
on GM crops.
Most ominous of all, though, is the SNP’s dystopian
Named
Person scheme, due to come into force in 2016.
This will mean that
every child in Scotland will be assigned a state-approved guardian – a
so-called Named Person – to look over them until the age of 18.
Essentially,
parents will be forced to compete with the state for ultimate parental
responsibility over their own children.
The legislation presupposes that the
one-size-fits-all, state-dictated outcomes for children are superior to
parental judgement, and if you, as a parent, dare to disagree, then, well,
that’s just tough.
There are two things we should take
from all of this.
First, as has been
pointed out before on spiked,
the relative lack of power of devolved administrations – especially those which
purport to represent an ’identity’, as the SNP does – stunts their capacity for
real, meaningful change, pushing them towards imposing authoritarian measures
in an attempt to justify their own existence.
In their desperation to
differentiate Scotland from the rest of the UK, to find their own, distinct
voice within the British political firmament, and develop the ‘unique’ and
‘divergent’ Scottish political identity which might justify independence, the
SNP has pushed through deeply illiberal policies of the kind that would have
made Tony Blair’s New Labour think twice.
When all that matters is
independence, the means justify the ends.
The second is that, in the act of
doing this, the SNP has become the Scottish version of the very thing it claims
to oppose: the so-called ‘Westminster elite’.
Both in Scotland and across the
UK, the SNP has been billed as a punchy, people-power alternative to London’s
‘out-of-touch’ political and media set.
But don’t be fooled by the Scottish
accents and shouty, anti-establishment veneer.
Scratch the surface, look beyond
the vacuous, stick-it-to-the-man posturing, and before long you’ll see that the
SNP shares the same prejudices of its supposed Westminster enemies.
From its
crackdowns on football banter to its health hectoring to its undermining of
parental authority, the SNP is motivated by the same misanthropic fear that
drives much of its Westminster opposition: fear of the beer-fuelled, profane
football fan; fear of the fun-loving clubber; fear of the parent; fear, in
short, of the demos.
An alternative to the Westminster
elite? Yeah, right. The SNP is a tartan-cloaked extension of it – only more
effective and worse-opposed.
The SNP claims to believe in the Scottish people.
But it’s not reflected in its record.
Because, after all, what would be the
best way, indeed the only way, really to show trust in the Scottish people?
Simple: take your speech-policing, fun-crushing, child-snooping policies and get tae fuck.