Scots tae think again

700 years after Robert the Bruce comes a less bloody question.

Commonwealth Games baton bearer Scott Maxwell holds The Queens' Baton as he stands inside Glasgow Cathedral in Glasgow on July 20, 2014 as the baton arrived in the city on the final leg of its journey ahead of the opening ceremony of the 2014 Commonwealth Games on July 23, 2014. AFP PHOTO/ ANDY BUCHANAN

DESPITE the history-making choice that is about to descend on the Scottish people, there is little sense of dramatic upheaval in the air.

Here we are, just two months out from the yes-no independence referendum that will decide the country’s political future — with its manifold social and economic implications — and the discussion and debate has been suspended while a welcome distraction, the Commonwealth Games, arrives in Glasgow.

The Canadian team is at Glasgow International Airport, distinctive in its maple leaf coats, and the Scottish hosts have put on a rousing reception: bagpipes, with highland dancers in tow, along a pseudo running track in the airport arrivals area.

Only the whisky and haggis is missing. Thursday morning’s Games opening ceremony — featuring perennial rocker Rod Stewart, no less — is tipped to display more of the same patriotic fervour.

It’s a stirring nationalistic welcome, owing more than a little to Mel Gibson in Braveheart. And the goodwill is ­directed towards a country on which the Scots may model any future constitutional monarchy.

But any revolutionary talk to break away from the UK is conducted behind the scenes.

“I answer to my wife, not Westminster,’’ says my Scottish taxi driver, Angus. “I would prefer not to give my last name,’’ he adds, with that famed Scottish humour. “My girlfriend might read it.

“Visitors want to ask about independence, but Scottish people don’t. They know that there will be upheaval and everyone will be blaming each other after the vote, no matter what the decision, and they don’t want to be part of that kind of acrimony.’’

The vicious backlash against Harry Potter author JK Rowling, who donated several million pounds to the no campaign, was, he says, an indication of the virulent feelings on both sides.

Tellingly, Angus adds: “The vote is not a happy time for us.’’

It is against this background of impending gloom and feared escalation of social disharmony that the dizzy and ditzy primary-coloured shebang of the Commonwealth Games is staged.

Seventy-one countries of the commonwealth — including the non-colonial outposts of Mozambique, which joined by virtue of having a 1994 democratic election, and Rwanda, which had historic trading links to a current member of the commonwealth — will compete in 17 sports across 11 days.

“There is this great buzz about Glasgow now, and it’s all to do with the Games and seeing all the athletes,’’ says Games volunteer Colin Fraser, a 28-year-old teacher from Inverness.

“I think the Games will give us more confidence, that we can stand alone, and you see these small countries here that have done that. They have survived OK without England, and most look a wee bit prosperous. I think it will reinforce a yes vote, but the no voters aren’t going to be swayed. And the undecided? I’m not sure. ‘’

Fraser thinks the performance of Team Scotland — which is aiming for 34 medals from its 310 athletes — won’t bear any impact on the way people vote. The opinion polls agree.

Nearly nine in 10 people say Team Scotland’s results will have no effect on their vote. Eight out of 10 say it would be inappropriate for any of the political parties to ­attempt to leverage any success in their campaigns.

Voters insist they won’t be told how to vote. Indeed, the bloody-minded determination of the Scots to make up their own minds is not only well founded; many believe it could backfire on the yes vote.

Some Scots are so keen to split, they are inflamed that the pro-inde­pendence Scottish Nation­al Party has agreed that the Queen should remain as head of state and have vowed to vote no.

Glasgow won the right to host this year’s Games in 2008, beating Abuja in Nigeria for the honour.

So when British Prime Minister David Cameron’s Conservative government agreed with First Minister of Scotland Alex Salmond’s SNP to hold the independence referendum, the date, Sep­tember 18, resonated north of Hadrian’s Wall in several respects.

Not only would the Commonwealth Games have already buoyed the nation’s sense of can-do confidence but Scotland would be in the spotlight for golf’s Ryder Cup, to be played in Sept­ember between Europe and the US at the Glen­eagles course.

And the country will have just celebrated the 700th anniversary of the Battle of Bannockburn, when Robert the Bruce trounced the ­English army over what was back then a very bloody topic — independence.

The uncertainty that surrounded the Act of Union, a little closer in time, just 307 years ago, reverberates as strongly today.

While history shows us that the Scottish nobility, the “parcel of rogues’’ as bard Robert Burns described them, were bribed by Queen Anne to vote for union in 1707, the English had also forced a trading stalemate, closing their colonial markets to Scottish cattle, coal and linen.

There is a similar fear of economic consequences if the union is broken today. Better Together, the pro-union campaign headed by Labor MP Alistair Darling, a former chancellor of the exchequer and secretary of state for Scotland, has focused on the loss of jobs, the economic impost to bring in a new currency and new military, and the imminent threat that the country’s North Sea oil money will run out, leaving the Scots in desperation.

The well-funded message from Westminster has been negative, consistently failing to promote the benefits of the union. Just last week, newspaper headlines screamed about the loss of a million jobs if Scotland becomes independent. Other pro-union campaigners have simply claimed anyone who votes yes is economically stupid.

But that’s not the message Salmond and his deputy Nicola Sturgeon have been focusing on.

They see this as the time for fire-in-the-belly rampaging: a time for repressed Scots to emerge from beneath the arrogant English rule 600km away; to take control of their own destiny and impose left-leaning social philosophies, kickstart the economy with immigration and innovation, all the while comforted by the security of that North Sea oil.

Polls suggest the unionists’ no vote will win easily, with about 60 per cent.

But the voting age in the referendum has been lowered to give 16-year-olds the right to have their say, so the turnout is expected to exceed that of normal parliamentary elections. (Voting is not compulsory in Britain.)

As the Games begin, the yes campaign is trying to reach those rookie voters through sport.

There is supposed to be a gentle­men’s agreement among the political parties to suspend electioneering during the Games, but the prospect of combining medals with endorsement is proving almost irresistible.

Many of the sporting personalities to have publicly backed the yes vote, such as former world featherweight boxing champion Alex Arthur and karate and kick-boxing champion Samera Ashraf, have come from sports known for their individualism.

But one team player is former Manchester ­United footballer Mich­ael Stewart. “It will lead to a huge upsurge in self-belief and confidence,” he says. Stewart reflects on how fortunate he has been to pull on the dark blue strip of Scotland to compete, but “not everyone has had that chance and a yes vote means more opportunity for people for all walks of life, but especially for sport”.

Celebrated Scottish rower Katherine Grainger believes it is unfair for athletes to be dragged into the debate. She says unless they want to express an opinion freely, they shouldn’t be pressured for their views.

“What I find difficult is any Scottish athlete ... kind of gets pulled into the debate,” she told the BBC. “It’s very rare that you hear an athlete deliberately speaking about it. It’s not foremost in your mind — you don’t go out thinking: ‘Will it be Scotland, will it be England, will it be Great Britain next time?’ ”

Arguably Scotland’s greatest sporting talent, tennis star Andy Murray, who in the British press is always a Scot when he loses and a Briton when he wins, has refused to weigh into the debate.

However, he said he didn’t like the opportunism displayed by Salmond unfurling the Saltire flag — the white St Andrew’s Cross on blue background that has been a symbol of Scottish independence since the 14th century — above Cameron’s head in the royal box when he won Wimbledon last year.

Also refusing to offer an opinion is six-time Olympic medallist Chris Hoy, after whom the Commonwealth Games velodrome is named. Hoy has been knighted, and moved to Manchester to train for more than a decade with the British team but has rejected ­approaches from both sides to promote their arguments.

“It’s a hornets’ nest,” he says, not wanting to declare his position.

No one is in any doubt, however, about the views of Team Scotland judoka Connie Ramsay. Emblazoned across the back of the yes campaign newsletter that is door-dropped free around the country is Ramsay, urging for an independent Scotland. She is pictured holding a huge yes placard.

Ramsay says her training motto is “when I believe in something I fight like hell for it’’; her formative years, training alongside the boys in Tain, on the north-eastern tip of Scotland, have imbued her with a sense of free-spirited liberation.

“What excites me about being independent is having a country of our own,’’ she says. “We’d get to do what is best for everyone in Scotland, rather than being governed by Westminster governments we don’t vote for.’’

When the Games are over, we’ll soon learn how many of her fellow Scots agree.