Author: Peter Preston
Publication: The Guardian, UK
Date: November 4, 2002
URL: http://www.guardian.co.uk/comment/story/0,3604,825395,00.html
Introduction: But in Britain, minorities
have been given a veto over their future
It is probably the most visceral
question of our times, asked from Chechnya to Kashmir to Armagh and often
answered in blood. But the odd thing is that, no matter how many times
he hears it, no matter how many times he witnesses its consequences, Tony
Blair never quite gets the point. Indeed, he, John Prescott and Robin Cook
still troop around blank-faced, offering the question up on a plate. As
though it were panacea, not potential poison.
What do the Chechens, with their
bombs and their kidnappers, want? They want to live in a free little country
of their own - not as a runt in the litter of Russia's federation. What
do the Kashmiris, with their bombs and murderous attacks, want? They want
to be free of the Indian federation (and possibly of Pakistani ambition,
too). And the Kurds, the Tamils, the Corsicans and Kosovans? Wherever you
look, wherever you go, there are minorities buried within bigger countries
demanding autonomy. But the bigger countries - thank you President Putin
- are saying: "No." Not maybe; not perhaps, one fine day; just no. Their
no is the voice of the majority. Minorities have rights. Majorities have
the last word.
But in Britain, though we seldom
pause to reflect on it, there is another way that gives minorities the
last word - and majorities not so much as a word in edgeways. Do Scotland
or Wales wish to elect their own parliaments? All they have to do is win
a referendum first. The done devolution deal.
Does Northern Ireland wish to remain
a part of the UK, or join with Dublin? A referendum for Northern Irish
voters lies constantly open. All republicans have to do to leave is win,
and then push off. And - whisper it gently - the same formula lies there
for the Scots and the Welsh one day. It seems so obvious, so normal. Mr
Cook at the weekend was peddling regional assemblies for anyone who calls.
Mr Prescott sells elected mayors like cans of beans.
But in fact this seeming normality
is rather remarkable; and perhaps remarkable folly. Tony Blair's biggest
mate in Europe, Jose Maria Aznar, would certainly think so. Other democratic
countries' byzantine struggles against their own minorities tend not to
make newspaper headlines here. They are complex, introverted tales. Spain
follows events in Northern Ireland closely, because it hears eerie echoes
- but London doesn't linger long over the tumult in Bilbao or Barcelona.
Nevertheless, there is reason to linger.
Britain long ago offered Gibraltar
a referendum to ratify or reject a change in its status should London and
Madrid ever seek to negotiate one. Because Aznar and Blair are pals, those
negotiations have taken place. Because sovereignty can be shared, that
is the preferred solution. But 30,000 Gibraltarians want nothing to do
with it. They have their referendum - and other Iberians have suddenly
taken up the same cry.
We'll hold our own vote in a couple
of years, says Juan Jose Ibarretxe, president of the Basque country's ruling
PNV. Give us a loose association with Madrid plus a place in the European
Union and there's a peaceful way out for everyone. Hey, and if they're
doing that, says Arturo Mas, the new leader of Catalonia's nationalists,
we'll want a better deal, too. What's sauce for Gibraltar's goose is suddenly
the sauce of separatism across much of northern Spain.
It is a thick stew of politics,
with some parallels - the banning of Batasuna, the Basques' Sinn Fein;
the goal of "freedom" within the EU - and some important differences, including
a tradition of terror attacks to make the IRA seem wimps. But the most
important difference of the lot is Madrid's stubborn antipathy to capitulation.
Why should a minority be able to decide the fate of a nation without reference
to the majority that surrounds and supports it? Where is the fairness or
democracy in that?
There's the vexatious question.
Majorities have rights, too. They want their country kept whole, for fear
of wholesale disintegration. So they need a specific voice in deciding
its future, just as Aznar demands a voice that represents the interests
of all Spaniards, not just Spain's richest, most disaffected regions.
But this is curiously not the current
British instinct. Want to bale out of a disunited kingdom? Sure: carry
on. Want a block on progress to any solution? Sure: the Gibraltarians have
it, whatever the wider British interest. Want a fatter range of subsidies
from the centre as your price for staying on board? Sure: that is the precise
Prescott-Cook formula for introducing more regional assemblies. If the
north-east (say) fancies some of the same boodle as Scotland and Wales,
then it need only vote to get it. From Middlesbrough to Hartlepool you
can even get your oddball elected mayor if you tick the right box. Yet
the people who pay for that decision, who have to live with this jigsaw
system, are never asked the question square on. We don't get a national
referendum to sanctify the process; we are pushed aside.
Stand back and ponder the illogic
here. Northern Ireland lapses bad-temperedly into direct rule again. But
the direct rulers - us - have damn-all say in what happens next. We merely
hold the punchbag. A Gibraltar settlement? No dice. A decent accounting
of devolution? No way. A local government framework that offers coherence?
Sadly not. More elected mayors to re-charge voting turn-outs? Alas, look
at Switzerland, with its constant compartmentalisation and referendums.
And don't bother to guess which European country has the lowest voting
levels of the lot.
What sounds so reasonable can be
a recipe for stagnation and fissiparous impotence. A switch-off, not a
turn-on. The question is itself a stinker because we gave away the answer
long ago.
p.preston@guardian.co.uk
