Scotching the spirit of independence

As its love-bombing from south of the border intensifies this weekend, Scotland might reflect bitterly on how, in a former dispensation, it had to evacuate one of the national adjectives because of damage from the same quarter.

There was a time, after all, when it was still acceptable to use the term “Scotch” of Northern Britons, as well as of their whisky and terriers. But such has the word’s stigmatisation over the centuries, by the English mainly, this is no longer the case.

Thanks to the likes of “Scotch bum” (the bustle of a skirt), “Scotch fiddle” (the itch), and even “Scotch mist” (a euphemism for rain), the old adjective gradually came to be considered offensive, at least when applied to humans.

A subtle rebranding process was necessary. Now, when referring to the people – and to most of their achievements outside the distilling sphere – Scottish, or better still Scots, is the preferred descriptive.

Of course the natives of Scotland were not alone in being adjectivally disparaged by their neighbours. The Dutch, for example, still account for a remarkable number of insults in English (“Dutch bargain”, “Dutch treat”, “Double Dutch”, etc) mostly dating from a series of 17th-century wars. Indeed, all of England’s neighbours have had their identities borrowed for some derogatory purpose or other (from “French leave”, to “Welshing” on debts, to that multipurpose slur, “a bit Irish”). But so far as I know, only the Scots have taken it so personally as to shun the adjective.

The joke is partly on Ireland, as Latin scholars will know, since the original Scots were inhabitants of this country. In fact, one of the oldest recorded Irish jokes illustrates the point, involving as it did the 9th-century philosopher John Scottus Eriugena, formerly of our £5 note. His name meant “John the Irishman from Ireland”, more or less. And the joke in question was his riposte to a French king who had noticed the similarity between the words “sot” and “Scot”, and though it apt. Clearly, a reputation for drinking was already bedevilling the Scoti tribe even then.

Maybe sensitivity about this reputation explains the paradox whereby “Scotch” has come to be disliked as a description of the people of Scotland, when it remains universally acceptable of, and synonymous with, that country’s greatest export. But then again, “Scotch” didn’t always have positive connotations even in the context of whisky. On the contrary, as recently at the early 20th century, it was still associated with an inferior version of the spirit. And one of the ironies of 90 years of Irish independence is that it helped make Scotch the success it is today. Circa 1910, when Ireland occupied a similar position constitutionally to where Scotland is now, whiskey-with-an-e was the world leader. Scotch was the poor relation. Then the roles were gradually reversed, through a mixture of bad judgment and bad luck. Probably the biggest factor was that, being the prestige brand to start with, Irish whiskey remained tied to tradition while Scotch producers were freer to experiment, with new technology, and blending, and other things considered sacrilege by purists.

But independence didn’t help. From the Troubles to the Economic War, and then actual war, when the Free State didn’t host tens of thousands of American troops who doubled as accidental market researchers for alcohol producers, the Irish whiskey industry was cursed on all sides.

US prohibition was a double blow – closing the American market at a difficult time, and then helping ruin an innocent reputation, as variously vicious brands of moonshine filled the vacuum, often purporting to be the genuine Irish article.

Scotch had a big domestic market to sustain it through lean times. And when the GIs went home, it had countless unpaid product ambassadors.

Having gone half-circle, the wheel has begun turning again in recent years, as Irish whiskey emerges from its long hangover. With clever marketing abroad and a revival in independent distilleries at home, the industry here is now taking its turn to be the creative underdog. And you never know, maybe the political turmoil on the neighbouring island might help.

I’ve heard of several intending Yes voters who say they’ll toast victory next week with a dram of finest Scotch. But if the country does choose independence, perhaps some canny Irish whiskey exporters should rush a few thousand cases to the other side of Hadrian’s Wall, lest Scotland’s unrequited lovers need some comfort in the lonely times ahead.

@FrankmcnallyIT