"Do not listen to this imposter. You are lost if you forget that the fruits of the earth belong to all and the earth to no one!” If only, Jean-Jacques Rousseau wrote, someone had blurted this out as private land was first divided.

It was back at this point, Rousseau claimed, that we were divided by competition, rival interests and the conflict of a class society. Who would deny that we are divided today? Some 62 people own as much wealth as the world’s poorest 3.6 billion. In major cities we walk cheek by jowl with huddled bodies of the homeless under blankets. We know this division is wrong and unnecessary – so appeals to “unity” sound attractive and caring. What if we put our divisions aside and simply worked together for the common good? The problem is this simple, humanitarian rhetoric is regularly misappropriated.

Theresa May, announcing plans to prioritise anti-migrant policies over political union, hit out at “divisive nationalists” and called for all people to embrace Brexit.

This is clear, emotive hypocrisy. Those building up walls with 27 EU countries, specifically to limit the right to travel, present themselves as unifiers just as their leaders start ordering the first load of bricks.

But the weirdest thing about being accused of being “divisive” is the assumption that unity of any sort is inherently just or stable. In fact it’s often the opposite, with the privileged few calling out opponents to limit and delegitimise dissent.

Protesting war? “Oh that’s divisive.” Taking action against rogue landlords and bad bosses? “Oh that’s divisive.” Having a two-year debate on the country’s future? “Oh that’s divisive. Some people had heated arguments. Jezzo!”

It’s a well-tested slur that’s been flung by reactionary rulers across the ages – from ancient Rome, to Victorian Britain, to the treatment of modern CND or Black Lives Matter activists. I think fearing political division represents a conservative, narrow outlook on life, at least in a subtle way.

Those who challenge injustice are never the source of division – division is pre-existing.

We don’t have a happy-clappy society where we all live together in the same way. Class, gender, race – to take three major examples – segregate people’s political experience.

The economic structure is especially divisive as low pay, benefit sanctions and corporate profits expand the gulf between Scotland’s rich and poor.

Fear of being divisive, or even worse actively condemning those who challenge the roots of social division, is exactly what propagates our broken economic system.

As historian Howard Zinn put it, our problem isn’t civil disobedience – it’s civil obedience.

I saw some of the best examples of divisive politics at the weekend's Radical Independence Conference: Stella Rooney from the Better Than Zero campaign, Eulalia Reguant from Catalonia, lawyer Aamer Anwar, Grainne Griffin from the Irish “Repeal the 8th” group, and Malika Salaun from the French PIR Movement.

Opponents and armchair sceptics could say they are “divisive”. Their work places them in conflict with bad employers, religious-based laws, the Spanish state and the police. But they are not responsible for the divisions in society.

It is Theresa May, who imposed draconian migration laws, an abusive asylum regime and an authoritarian state snooping act on the people, that shares in the responsibility of dividing communities.

We must never let fake calls for unity obscure that reality.

Brexit: A recipe for disaster

What’s the first ingredient in Brexit soup? Laughing stock. Now that I’ve got that clanger out of the way, we can move on to the real feast of food-related Brexit slip-ups.

“France needs high quality, innovative British jams and marmalades,” informed the pop-up UK Department on Trade yesterday. Now I like some fruity flavoured spread as much as anyone, but I don’t think it’ll make the French crumble in negotiations.

It’s also another death-knell for the word “innovative”, which has been brought into disrepute having been flung in as a meaningless space-filler by many a mandarin. “Innovative jam”? Really?

It’s not the first farcical food fight of Brexit.

Boris Johnson, the circus clown who occupies the Foreign Office, thinks booze is a serious bargaining chip for Brit negotiators.

“We drink more Italian wine than any other country in

Europe – 300 million litres of Prosecco every year. They’re not going to put that at risk,” Johnson said in the fashion of a drunk gatecrasher at an ambassadorial summit.

Do those employed in Scotland’s financial services, manufacturing, universities, research, and agricultural sectors find this funny?

This week Angela Leadsom, once scarily considered a contended for Prime Minister, suggested Brits start fruit picking for victory in the agricultural sector to replace seasonal workers that may no longer be able to work here. Given Tories want to slash labour rights, I don’t think many will be rushing into the underpaid and poorly regulated sector.

Jam, Prosecco and fruit picking is a dog’s breakfast of a negotiation and economic strategy.

Michael Gray @GrayInGlasgow is a journalist with CommonSpace.scot