The disunited kingdom

Never before — at least, not in living memory — has there been such a disconnect between north and south Britain. We vote together, but cast our ballots in very different contests. Scotland and England, semi-detached in the past, are more estranged than ever. The mildewed contest between David Cameron and Ed Miliband touches few hearts north of the Tweed; the battle between Labour and the SNP still mystifies many of those sent north to observe the strange happenings in Scotland.

Edmund Burke wrote of another revolution: ‘Everything seems out of nature in this strange chaos of levity and ferocity, and of all sorts of crimes jumbled together with all sorts of follies.’ Something similar might be said of this Scottish insurrection. The bells are tolling to announce the death of Labour in Scotland.

Is this some kind of national awakening or has, as some despairing unionists aver, Scotland gone mad? In truth, it depends where you start. We tend to think, because Scotland is only a small place, that it is uniform. But the post-industrial towns and former mining villages of Lanarkshire and Renfrewshire have little in common with prosperous Edinburgh and Aberdeen. In these forgotten places, despair is an all-too-common currency. The nationalists offer hope, and is it reasonable to ask those who have the least to scrutinise promises of an earthly bonanza more closely than anyone else? Five years ago every Scottish seat returned the same result it had in 2005. Scotland’s election was a sleepy affair. Now there are almost no safe seats and almost every contest pits the nationalists against the best-placed unionist candidate. How did it come to this?

Never underestimate the consequences of dumb luck. The SNP have exploited opportunities they did not create themselves. The margin between success and failure is precious thin. If the SNP had not won Cunninghame North by 48 votes in 2007, Alex Salmond would probably have been unable to form a minority administration in Edinburgh.