"Ms Alexander - or "Bendy Wendy" as some have dubbed here after her apparent U-turn - had privately argued for months that it was time to call the SNP's bluff and tell them to put up or shut up on the issue of independence. Her purpose was to reposition the Scottish Labour Party to be in favour of letting the people choose rather than being opposed to democracy."
- http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/nickrobinson/2008/05/an_almighty_mes.html
What struck me as strange was that what Robinson was here referring to as 'democracy' seemed to me an example of a very undemocratic practice. I don't think Robinson was intentionally defining his goalposts for democracy - I believe he either used the word casually, or meant to imply that Alexander wanted to avoid seeming to be opposed to democracy, a very different thing altogether - but it was a good example of two diametrically opposed sides being able to simultaneously claim that they are the one party defending a value that we all hold dear. Not freedom this time; or 'the people', whoever they may be; but democracy itself.
Proponents of referenda, any referenda, are always able to present themselves as democrats. The reason for this is obvious: voting is democratic, yes? Well, no. Not necessarily. Here's how it looks from my side of the fence.
Let's start by admitting that democracy is, and never can be, perfect. The much-touted example of 'pure' democracy - the old city-state style undertaken in Greece before it was Greece - was far from perfect, even when you remove the signs saying 'no women, no slaves, no Africans' from the polling booth doors. One person, one vote sounds all well and good, but how do you actually implement that? Do you uphold the voting rights of the vulnerably insane, or cancel said rights to prevent them from being abused? Do you stop the politically aware sixteen-year-old from having a say, thus rendering him subject to the laws of the land without a right to change it, to prevent his friends from voting according to their parents' wishes or handing the Monster Raving Loony Party some genuine power? What about the fact that one man wields ten thousand votes, should he happen to be rich enough to own a national newspaper? You could ban the private press altogether, but any government handed a solely state-controlled media would become a dictatorship within a matter of years. Should people whose opinions are dangerous to the public - racists, homophobes and other such charming sects - be given a voice in the name of freedom of speech, or silenced in the name of keeping the peace? Do you allow people to comment on politics, even when they write polemics composed almost entirely of rhetorical questions?
So: democracy is not perfect. However, it is possible to improve - or worsen - the democratic process of a country. At face value, a demand for a referendum on Scottish independence looks like a demand for improved, more representative democracy. On closer examination, this proves to be a ludicrous idea. The issue of Scottish independence affects every person in this country; it would impact on our economy, our culture, our agriculture, our trade, our everything. The so-called 'democratic' movement to allow Scots to vote on their own independence seeks to deny the English, Welsh et al any say in whether a sizeable part of their country is to be ripped away from them. And, if the line between England and Scotland is distinct enough to qualify them for this kind of exclusivist electioneering, does this carry over to other, smaller places? Could the North vote to have England divided along Watford Gap? Could London, which after all gives far more than it receives to the economy, elect itself into independence? If I decided I was fed up of paying tax, could I collaborate with my flatmate to declare my home a separate state and therefore turn the Inland Revenue from my door?
Some hold up tradition as an excuse for defaulting on the voting rights of those who live on the wrong side of an arbitrary line. Scotland, after all, has always been a distinct entity, the extent of which varying around the period and the viewpoint. Personally, I think heritage, when it uses the experiences of the long-dead to justify the will of the living, is a terrible reason to do anything, but more to the point: the Scottish are part of the British electorate, and surely secession from such can only be granted on a true democratic mandate. To be part of a state for hundreds of years, to share its parliament and economy and politics, and then to suddenly claim only you get a say in perhaps the most important decision that state faces in a century; well, it sounds a lot like cheating.
I wouldn't say any of this were Scotland an oppressed nation, of course. The case for Northern Irish independence (and a Northern Irish vote on the matter) before and during the Troubles was strong. Sometimes a region's right to self-definition is valid. Democracy was perhaps best defined as 'two wolves and a sheep voting who to have for dinner', and it's better to let that sheep walk away of its own choosing than to force it into a desperate and bloody battle. But Scotland is not the Northern Ireland of the Seventies. It is not Tibet. It is simply a region of Britain with historical distinguishing characteristics. Scotland is not under oppression, whatever the SNLA (http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2008/jan/08/politics.ukcrime) may think. In fact, it benefits from English taxation and is better represented in the parliamentary system than either England or Wales. I have no issue with this, but merely want to make it clear that super-imposing fond memories of Braveheart onto a real, modern political landscape is a grave error indeed.
Now: what about referenda that include the entire electorate? The obvious example here is the much-debated vote on Britain's relationship with Europe. Surely such a move could only be a step closer to a fairer democracy?
Again: I am not so sure. It must be remembered that we live in a representative system. Our democratic rights are upheld in the General Election, when we get to choose who will make the nation's decisions for the next four or five years. All other issues are thus dealt with by proxy, and nobody has yet explained to me why this one issue should somehow be awarded special status. Granted, we elected a party that promised us a referendum on the European Constitution (and I agree that Gordon Brown has not succeeded in dodging this responsibility by giving said Constitution a quick paint-job and rebranding it a Treaty), but no laws exist to force a politician to hold true to the assurances given in their election campaign. Maybe they should, but again: if so, this should apply to all issues, not just Europe. By refusing a referendum - any referendum - the Government does not fly in the face of democracy, only declines to redefine democracy to suit one particular interest group.
So; perhaps the answer is to decide all issues on a referendum vote. This, at least, would be closer to 'pure' democracy than the at-one-remove system we have now. But the sheer amount of referenda needed would mean people, en masse, either deciding not to vote, or voting without due care and attention. Voter apathy is not something I'm necessarily against - I'd resent having my vote cancelled out by someone voting at random - but on this level, most decisions would go the way of one special interest group or another. I've seen this happen on a small scale, watching the bizarre decisions made at student elections when only six percent of eligible voters turned up. The idea of it happening on a national scale is troublesome, to say the least. A better turn-out would be seen for more major issues, but most voters would be seriously uninformed. This is not to say that the electorate is ignorant; just to point out that most people's jobs, unlike politicians', do not involve knowing the ins and outs of every political concern. A vote on any subject that the public cared about would, in practice, be won by the tabloid media. Rupert Murdoch would be King.
And there is another problem. Each action has an equal and opposite reaction, even in politics. Parliamentary decrees are weighed against each other. Conversely, the public has a history of favouring completely contradictory policies. All in favour of reduced taxation and increased public spending, say aye! All in favour of a more empowered police force and better-protected civil liberties, say aye! All in favour of more power to local education authorities and a nationwide equality in schooling, say aye! The people, myself included, want to buy steak on the cheap and drink beer at a penny a pint, while protecting the livelihoods of small business owners like publicans and farmers. Our politicians know this to be impossible. Under a referenda system, we would order our civil servants to decentralise financial control for medical treatment while putting an end to postcode lotteries and, in doing so, hand them a paradox instead of a mandate.
This, along with the obvious practical problems, is why no large democracy has a referenda system. We, the people, do not and cannot decide on every subject raised in the house of Commons. Instead, we vote for the experts we want to make these decisions for us; and, as we ultimately decide which of these experts gets to keep their job, we get the final word. In this way, the desires of extremists are moderated, and we are assured all decisions are made by those qualified to make them, but those in power remain fully answerable to the electorate. George Monbiot called democracy 'the least-worst system'; flawed as it may be, I find it hard to think of anything better.
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