Michael Fry: Scotland and Catalonia have taken different paths to independence – and they're both about to be tested

As the conflict drew to a close in 1714, the destiny of Barcelona lay in the hands of two Scotsmen. John, Duke of Argyll, was commander of the allied forces – British, Dutch, Austrian and Portuguese – defending the city against a superior Franco-Spanish army led by James, Duke of Berwick, a general who was also a bastard of the deposed and exiled Stewart king, James VII (II of England). As the enemy closed in, Argyll decided further resistance would be useless and evacuated his troops to the island of Minorca, which was to remain under our occupation for the rest of the century. But the brave people of Barcelona resolved to hold out and defy their assailants with barricades in the streets and whatever improvised weaponry they could find. The place had in the end to be taken by storm, amid great slaughter.

Civil revenge followed the military annihilation of Catalonia, and perhaps set precedents for what has been happening in the last few days. Decrees issued from Madrid banned all the country’s main traditional political institutions and rights, reducing it to provincial status under a central administration in the Spanish capital. There, in addition, a Royal Academy was established “to fix the voices and vocabularies of the Castilian language with propriety, elegance, and purity”, so that everybody would first write and then speak a standard language. To this the eclipse of Catalan as a vehicle for government and literature can be dated.

Scotland had also been a victim of the wider European struggle. The Treaty of Union in 1707 was in part a measure of military security taken by England to close a back door where the French might mount a diversionary attack. In fact they did try in 1708, if feebly, and a Spanish mini-armada made its own attempt in 1719. It had meanwhile been deemed necessary to eliminate Edinburgh as a rival source to London of political influence and initiative. The abolition of the old Scots Parliament saw to that.

Now we have three centuries of varied experience allowing us to assess the paths of two nations which remain capable of renewing their freedom but have never done so. Catalonia is a sunny country with a sporadically violent history – Napoleonic invasion in the 19th century, civil war in the 20th century, when it was the last bastion of the doomed Spanish Republic crushed by General Franco. Scotland can be a gloomy kind of place, but at least it has had a happier history on the whole, pacific and often prosperous.

The heritage of each is reflected in the present situation. Spain still has means to impose its will on Catalonia by force, and a tough prime minister in Madrid, Mariano Rajoy, is showing himself ready to do that. The Catalans may thwart him, but we cannot be sure they will beat him. Scotland has always followed a peaceful and constitutional path, even when violent troubles have broken out elsewhere in the British Isles, yet it has brought as much frustration as fulfilment. The toil of Nicola Sturgeon to find a way through the maze of Brexit illustrates the point. The next few years will probably be a good time to test these two approaches and the states of mind behind them.

Up to now, I can’t say I’m greatly impressed by the actions of any party to the Catalonian dispute. I support the principle of self-determination for every nation, but in order not to be trivialised (look at what the English press is saying about Canvey Island) it needs to be a clear expression of the people’s will. At the Catalonian referendum of October 1, the turnout was 43 per cent and the actual Yes vote less than 40 per cent of the electorate – the UK itself, I seem to recall, once regarded this as a test of legitimacy. I know that the Catalan unionists boycotted the poll, and that there were disgraceful scenes, with blood spilt, as Spanish police sought by force to stop genuine votes being cast. But, if we can keep our cool, this still leaves us the question of what the actual level of support for the independence of Catalonia may be. Is it higher or lower than 50 per cent of the electorate?

Here, surely, is the fundamental question that needs an answer before we take sides.

Unfortunately we don’t know the answer. Catalan parties of every shade seem to have a silly habit of boycotting the ballot box if it suits, but Rajoy has now cut through the confusion to call a new election in the region for December 21. If – a big if – they all take part, then this offers the chance to calm a situation that badly needs defused and, even better, to define the underlying realities. Obviously Madrid is hoping it will be an opportunity for unionists to rally round the Spanish flag, and enormous demonstrations in Barcelona over the weekend showed there are many who have been waiting their chance to do so.

Glib commentators, especially in the Scottish press, have been misrepresenting all this as a straight suppression of national and human rights. But Rajoy is not a fascist: he is the leader of a minority government in a parliamentary system. And the Catalan case is not that clear-cut.

The heart of Catalonia, where its language and traditions survive best, lies in the countryside outside Barcelona. The city itself is a modern metropolis, the product of a century of industrialisation and international trade. As such it drew the workers it needed from all over Spain, so that today its greater urban area accounts for more than 5 million out of a total population in the region of 7.5 million. Spanish is spoken by 47 per cent of them, Catalan by 37 per cent, while 12 per cent are bilingual.

The resulting social and political situation is clearly complex, but I doubt if it can be adequately summed up as the exercise of naked central power over a suffering people. Anyway, the election on December 21 may give us some sorely needed clarity.

It is, of course, quite possible that Carles Puigdemont and his nationalists will win the election, as they have won elections before. If I were a citizen of Barcelona, I would vote for them. But for the purposes of analysis this column always seeks to separate its personal preferences from the realities on the ground, and one that would remain sprawling there is the fact that the Spanish constitution, approved by 95 per cent of Catalans in 1978, forbids the secession of any region. This is a provision far from unique in the world: President Abraham Lincoln interpreted the US constitution as forbidding secession by individual states, and on the back of that reasoning fought the bloody civil war which brought slavery to an end. So the power of a central state over recalcitrant regions does sometimes have its commendable uses.

A final argument leaving me unimpressed is that the relevant provision of the Spanish constitution is overridden by a general right of self-determination for all peoples, as mentioned – a bit fuzzily – in the United Nations Charter.

The world would no doubt be a happier place if the charter could be universally enforced, but the trouble in this particular is that there are so many nations, including our own, which for one reason and another have not exercised the right to self-determination. We cannot assume it is to be automatically translated into reality.

If we are going to be legalistic about Catalonia, we should point out that neither party to the present dispute has shown much regard for the processes available in democratic systems to test and confirm opinion. The systems are there so that the people can exercise their sovereignty. So in Catalonia let’s first find out, starting on December 21, who the people are and what they want.

I don’t think the EU or any other outsider has much of value to contribute till then. But it is at least something our hamstrung Scotland can recommend to unhappy Catalonia.