One of the most persistent
demands made of us by non-members is that we should work to set up a
confederation of decentralist parties, on an all-England
or all-Britain
basis.
It’s a course of action fraught
with difficulties, rather like trying to get the cart to go before the horse.
So let’s take it apart, piece by piece.
Get set for some iconoclasm.
The first assumption is that
confederation is the politics of the present.
And that it’s working.
It’s that the UK, or maybe the British
Isles grouping, is moving towards a confederal model and that
political parties need to organise to reflect this. There are indeed some institutions arising mainly
out of the Good Friday Agreement that appear to be quasi-confederal. There’s the British-Irish Council, based in
Edinburgh, the British-Irish Intergovernmental Conference, based in Belfast, the North/South Ministerial Council, based in Armagh, and the British-Irish Parliamentary Assembly,
which moves around.
The British-Irish Council
meets twice a year. Would it be missed
if it didn’t? Probably not. It’s a nice day out of the office but it does
nothing that couldn’t be done by email. Guernsey
might want to align its marine energy
policy with Scotland’s, but
alignment with Brittany and Normandy seems a more practical proposition. It’s the perfect example of what’s wrong with
that form of confederalism. It starts
with the idea that we need an institution to co-ordinate things, and then looks
for things for it to co-ordinate, instead of asking what needs to be done and
how.
If anything, a confederal Britain
is the politics of the past. It comes in
any number of models but they all draw a line round the British Isles to keep
them together and to exclude the rest of Europe. Often there’s a confederal capital envisaged
as neatly placed on the Isle of Man. It
might well have worked, circa 1910, but this is a boat that sailed with Irish
independence. Areas with a shared
history or language don’t always make for a good confederation. Especially when some were forced by others to
share their history and language whether they liked it or not. At the expense of other links they could have
made, such as a Celtic grouping. So that
just leaves a shared geography, like old television weather maps that ignored
the very existence of the European mainland.
Fog in Channel: Continent isolated.
That isolation is not wholly irrelevant – it keeps migrants in Calais who’d rather be in Dover – but the moat defensive is a
poor basis for common security in the era of global powers. The unification of the British
Isles was driven by a series of military necessities that have now
passed and need not dominate our politics today.
The second assumption is
that confederation is the politics of the future. Or could be, if we all work at it.
This seems highly
unlikely. Those who urge a confederal
organisation upon us fail to take into account that the various movements
within the British Isles have existed for
different periods of time, have established themselves electorally to
strikingly different degrees, and have very different ideas about the
constitutional solution they’re working towards. You won’t be seeing Nicola Sturgeon sitting
down to chair a coalition of cripples that in Plaid’s case cannot get beyond
four MPs and in the case of the rest are still struggling to get into
Parliament. The SNP’s openness towards
regionalism in the north of England
is a really interesting development but it has to be seen for what it
is: Scottish foreign policy in formation.
If the result is a better-governed England
then that’s a result for everyone, but a better-governed England, or Wales,
or Cornwall is,
rightly, not the SNP’s primary concern.
What motivates a territorial party isn’t the rightness of
self-government for all, even though solidarity helps share many things. What motivates a territorial party is the
rightness of self-government for us,
regardless of what others may think.
The assumption is that we’ll
be better-placed to engage with Westminster
politics if we pool resources. A single
press office. A single lobbying
machine. Never mind the complexity of
ever agreeing on anything, this gives Westminster
a respect it doesn’t deserve. It only
sucks us in and turns us into a supplicant pressure group. The lesson we should learn from the SNP is
that success comes to those who go it alone.
In the film Michael Collins,
Eamon de Valera is given the line, ‘We defeat the British
Empire by ignoring it.’ The
quote attributed to Gandhi about being the change you wish to see is another
way of expressing the same idea. Never
under-estimate the opposition, that’s true, but never under-estimate yourself
either. The Wessex Regionalists have
a London Bureau but it won’t be in London
that we make our breakthrough. It could
be in Bristol. It could be in Winchester.
It could be in any one of our urban or rural communities. We guarantee that it won’t be in London, however helpful a London branch might be. If the metropolitan chattering classes like
the idea of a free Wessex
then let them spread the idea. Either
way, we don’t need their permission to exist.
A further problem inherent
in the idea of pooling resources is that to pool is to mutually recognise. Three overlapping regionalist groups in Northumbria and at least two in Mercia
require some careful judgment. We
shouldn’t be in the business of picking winners on others’ turf but that’s
what’s demanded by any co-operation that goes beyond maintaining contact and
exchanging experiences. We could sit
down and agree the map with others and feel really good about that, until some
new group springs up, refuses to be bound by discussions to which it was not
party, and starts the whole thing up again.
The third assumption is that
confederation is an idea whose time has come.
Why has English regionalism
failed to take root? One answer is
because it fails to nurture those roots.
Every generation comes to regionalism thinking that it invented it. That no-one had ever thought of it
before. But there is a genealogy of ideas
and it’s as fascinating as any family tree.
Among Celtic nationalists, there’s a longer continuity of organisation
that enables stories of the earlier stages of the struggle to be conserved and
passed on. They stand on the shoulders
of giants, they know it, and they can name them. They have national libraries, where the
pioneers’ papers are preserved, and academics who will treat them as a subject
worthy of serious study.
We are the oldest
regionalist party in England,
launched in 1974 and formally constituted as an organisation in 1980. Yet we’re still discovering things about
those who argued before us for a contemporary Wessex. Charles Kingsley, William Barnes, Thomas
Hardy, Rolf Gardiner. Amnesia sets in
early. Kingsley and Barnes were both writing
in the 1860s about a contemporary Wessex, yet a decade later Hardy
introduced the concept into his novels and went on to tell the world it was all
his own work.
Unless we work harder at
developing a collective memory, this is the sort of thing that will go on
happening. It happens today because too
few English regionalists are fully committed to their regions, viewing
regionalism as just one of a host of good political causes, some of which align
with regionalism while others cut across it.
Some genuinely fear a descent into ‘narrow’ nationalism, to such an
extent that they can’t even see the sense of putting their own region’s
interests first. In fact, such a fear is
unfounded: we have a common interest with the north of England in
keeping their economy alive so that their population doesn’t drift south and
destroy our countryside. The London regime, supposedly
looking after the common national interest, has betrayed us both.
Those who are new to
regionalism and can’t understand why there isn’t a national body –
co-ordinating, directing and generally bossing the regional parties about – do
so probably because they’re unaware of what’s already been tried. The newcomer’s voice often pipes up that
‘that was then, this is now, we can make it work today’. In fact, so long as the issues are no
different the outcomes will be no different.
If this isn’t grasped intuitively, it just has to be learnt the hard
way.
In 1980, Anthony Mockler, on
behalf of the Wessex Regionalists, convened a seminar in Oxford
to which he invited all the civic nationalist and regionalist movements then
active within the UK. The result was the Declaration of Oxford: “We, the signatories of this Declaration,
representing various movements for autonomy, declare that we are joined
together in determined support for the right to self-government of communities
and nations within Britain
and against the centralism of the Westminster
Government.” The signatories besides
ourselves were Cowethas Flamank and Mebyon Kernow (both from Cornwall), the Orkney Movement, the Shetland
Movement and the Campaign for the North.
Plaid Cymru maintained a semi-detached interest. The SNP remained aloof.
Having met, it was agreed to
be useful to keep in touch. The Oxford seminar was the first of 14 held between 1980 and
1994, from Durham to St Austell and Bristol to Norwich. There was an absolute consensus that links
were good, at most a network, but not an organisation that risked replicating
the very centralism we opposed. Paul
Temperton, Director of the Campaign for the North, warned against anything that
would evolve into some kind of British Regionalist Association with its headquarters,
inevitably, in London.
One thing that did emerge
from the seminar series was a magazine, The
Regionalist, which ran from 1982 to 1992.
Each issue included a feature article about a small nation or historic
region and by the time of the last issue every part of the British Isles had
been covered, along with Brittany and Normandy. The seminars and the magazine were seen as a
way to involve new people who weren’t members of any existing
organisation. Three attempts were made
to get an East Anglian regionalist group off the ground, but apart from some
regional flag-flying the East still dozes to this day.
By the mid-90s the original
impetus had been lost, though contacts lasted informally into the 21st century. The usual thing happened: people took their
eye off the region. We had discussions
about whether there were different kinds of devolution, cultural, and economic,
as well as political, and whether they ought to join up or be kept apart for
the sake of balance. This was about as
far removed from the integrated vision of Wessex Regionalism as it’s possible
to get. And we said so. We had a longstanding debate too about
general decentralism. Should we involve
the Greens, or limit ourselves to movements with a specific territorial
basis? That debate still hasn’t gone
away, with the SNP and Plaid backing the English Greens in last year’s
election. They could at least have
pointed out that in Cornwall and some parts of England there’s another choice, one that doesn’t
involve a party who in Scotland
and Wales
are the nationalists’ rivals.
Meanwhile, in 1999, we helped
to establish a new focus of joint activity, all-English this time rather than
all-British. The Confederation for
Regional England also included groups from Kent,
Mercia and Northumbria,
all signed-up to yet another high-sounding document, the Stourbridge
Declaration. We left after three years,
alarmed at the time and expense involved in national meetings that offered us
nothing and only diverted energy from the regional campaigning that alone can
make regionalism work. Worse still was
the pressure to agree a unified English regionalist position on policy issues. We struggled to get across the point that if
one size fits all, you don’t need regionalism.
The Confederation proved to
be one of those luxury items that it’s nice to have but isn’t necessary, or
indeed helpful if its role is undefined.
Using it to try to plug gaps in the regional map is a noble idea, except
in so far as this can become a case of ‘prompting the witness’ as to what
regions there should be. A better way to
generate allies in currently unorganised areas would be to set the example of a
strong movement in Wessex
for them to emulate, rather than through national co-operation between existing
movements all of which currently are relatively weak. Especially if all are constrained to proceed
at the pace of the weakest.
The fourth assumption is
that confederation is a good reflection of where we wish to be. So that, regardless of whether or not the UK is
perceptibly moving towards confederalism, this is the solution we ought to
favour.
In some ways, this is a
repetition of the second assumption and is flawed to the same extent, namely that it
perpetuates a discourse about the good governance of the UK that is increasingly alien to those who
reject the UK. And what can be said of the UK can also be said of England. The idea of confederation is a kind of
comfort-blanket for those who aren’t really ready for regionalism. It reassures them that there’s some
safety-net, some mechanism for enforcing the common good, for reining-in those
who actually do want to set their own priorities. For those who aren’t convinced of the Scottish
nationalist case, it holds out the hope that the UK can survive in some ghostly form
that continues to exert influence from beyond independence.
A region-centred view of the
world isn’t bound by past alliances.
Yes, there may be cultural issues on which a free Wessex would wish to work with
other English regions – as well as English-speaking areas elsewhere or areas
with related languages, like Frisian.
Yes, there are geographical issues on which a free Wessex would wish to work with others throughout
Great Britain,
such as transport links. But neither England nor Britain defines a Wessex-centred
world.
Wessex has a number of neighbours. They don’t include the Scots. As well as the Londoners to our east there
are the Welsh and Mercians to our north, the Cornish and Irish to our west and
the Bretons and Normans to our south.
Which of these should we refuse to work with because they don’t neatly
fit the priorities of Westminster
politics?
In a Europe
of regions, our friends could come from even further afield. Our founder, Alexander Thynn, proposed that Wessex should be promoted “as the political and economic ally of all other agricultural regions
within Europe, to operate in defending common
interests against their transformation by those regions which are more highly
industrialised”. He also highlighted
the interests of coastal regions as contrasting with those of the continental
interior. Nor are our links as a region
confined to Fortress Europe: Wessex
has important cultural connections with Newfoundland,
Massachusetts and Virginia, among others.
Those who urge upon us the
necessity of formal co-operation do so with the best of motives. Experience and reflection show that it can be
not a springboard to success but a straitjacket that curbs the aspirations of any
authentically regional group. We’ll
cheer-on our neighbours but we can’t do their job for them. Any more than they can do ours for us. While remaining ever-aware of our
surroundings, we need to reach deeper, not wider, to grasp the essence of Wessex.