A friend of mine describes it as "the unrequited hate affair" - the fact that while many Scots hate the English, the cursed Sassenach tends to reciprocate with something approaching bored indifference.
Certainly my erstwhile colleague is right to note the depth of hostility which the Scots harbour towards their southern neighbours. But why should this be so? When challenged on this, Scots often mention a sense of historic grievance at English domination of their country, most famously exhibited by that well-known Caledonian Mel Gibson in the film Braveheart. But there are many other peoples around the world who could make rather more contemporary movies about Saxon brutality without sharing the same deep sense of loathing which seems to define many Scots. Perhaps the animosity towards the English is due to the fact that the two peoples are not really so different. It is the rage of the insecure.
But the "unrequited" part of my friend’s equation may be outdated. Recent months have seen an increase in Scot-bashing among some of the English commentariat. This animus has several causes but they all stem from the devolution of power to the Scottish Parliament in 1999. In spite of this constitutional change, the UK cabinet has become overstocked with Scots such as Chancellor Gordon Brown and Defence Secretary John Reid, the so-called Tartan Mafia.
This Caledonian elite has found itself legislating for England only on matters such as health and education. Controversial measures like foundation hospitals and academy schools have been pushed through the House of Commons with the help of Scottish Labour MPs who would not want such Thatcherite institutions in their own backyards.
Furthermore, Scotland continues to receive more public funding per head than England. Worst of all in some English minds, the Scots stood decidedly aloof, to say the least, from the outpouring of jingoism in the run-up to the World Cup. As St George’s flags fluttered from every other car in England, Scottish First Minister Jack McConnell announced that, not only would he not be supporting Sven’s boys, he would actually be cheering on their opponents. To many English, this seemed to be biting the hand that feeds you.
All these factors have led to an increase in anti-Scottish feeling south of Berwick. Former Defence Secretary Michael Portillo recently described Scotland as "a pensioner economy existing on English handouts" while former Sun editor Kelvin Mackenzie put it rather more bluntly saying that the lower life expectancy in Scotland was good news because it meant "they are dying sooner than the rest of us."
Shadow Trade spokesman Alan Duncan has stated that it is impossible for a Scottish MP to become prime minister. If we are to believe the Tory frontbencher, this conclusion was reached, not on the basis of his anti-Scottishness, but rather on the current constitutional set-up which allows Scottish MPs to vote on matters only effecting England, with no reciprocal power for English parliamentarians.
The West Lothian question, as it is known, has motivated this new round of Jock-bashing. The anomaly became more acute after last year’s general election in which the triumphant Labour party actually won fewer English votes than the Conservatives. Thus the sometimes decisive role of Scottish Labour MPs’ votes on health and education policy in England is seen as more unfair than ever.
As a solution Conservative leader David Cameron has proposed "English only" votes, whereby Celtic MPs would be formally excluded from voting on matters which did not effect their constituents. While this would answer the West Lothian question, Cameron’s typically opportunistic proposal would create a number of new problems.
First of all, it would create a two-tier system, with Scottish MPs reduced to second-class status. Secondly, it would be hard to enforce, since the line between what effects England only and what impacts the whole of the UK is not easily drawn. But most importantly it could create a scenario of dual government. It is quite conceivable that after the next election Labour could have a UK-wide majority while the Tories have the most seats in England. Thus, under Cameron’s system, a Labour ‘government’ would have the votes to go to war but not to decide on hospital funding. In this scenario of paralysis, many on both sides of the border would conclude that divorce was the only option.
If not the Cameron option then what? Noam Chomsky has noted that right-wingers often accuses leftists of lacking solutions, when what they actually mean is that they don’t like the solutions on offer. It is in this spirit that I suggest the following answer to the West Lothian question.
It’s really rather simple - let the English have regional parliaments of their own. That way decisions over social policy could be made at the local level across Britain with the House of Commons remaining as a federal parliament dealing with macro-economics and foreign policy. This would re-balance the British political system.
But there is one major flaw in my plan. The English don’t want their own assemblies. They are seen as an unnecessary and costly extra tier of bureaucracy. A proposal for devolution to the north-east, the part of England with the strongest regional identity, was heavily defeated in a referendum in 2004. If the people of Newcastle have little enthusiasm for an assembly of their own, it is fair to say that people living nearer London would have even less.
Regional assemblies are unwanted, Cameron’s option is unworkable and the abolition of the Scottish parliament is unthinkable. Therefore there is nothing for the English to do but grin and bear it, to enjoy the irony that they are being force-fed Thatcherism by unreconstructed Scottish socialists.