Michael Munnik discusses a BBC event on Arab Scots in Scotland and their opinions on the independence referendum.
It seems a good time to be a Muslim in Scotland.
No sooner had I returned from Glasgow and a debate aimed at Muslim university students than word reached my inbox about a debate on 11 March organised by BBC Radio Scotland, BBC World Service, and BBC Arabic, asking Arab Scots their feelings in the run-up to September's referendum. The “Arab” element was not an exclusive focus: they filled the foyer at Pacific Quay with about 50 people of all descriptions, about two-thirds of whom were Arabs. I am aware that “Arab” is not co-extensive with “Muslim,” but as the conversation warmed, people discussed their religious as well as ethnic identifiers, and Islam was what they mentioned—sometimes as part of their complex package of identities and occasionally as a barrier to integration.
This discussion was framed as a set-up to the referendum, but the conversation dwelt early and long on the woolier matter of identity—a “massive issue,” we were told. Presenters asked where our hyphens were, which markers came first, and whether the order mattered. Once the referendum had joined the conversation, they asked if we would feel more Scottish after a yes vote. Participants struggled to answer the question, which was at best unquantifiable and at worst incomprehensible. What were we being asked to measure? One participant said he felt it was a settled question prior to the referendum discussion: we already felt Scottish. Another optimistically declared that we are self-identifying in this process, and whether we vote yes or no in September, Scotland will have a clearer definition of its culture.
Identity grew trickier when presenter John Beattie ventured to offer some positive qualities that define Scottish: “it’s about being proud, being honest, being truthful, being straightforward”. Notwithstanding that many English, Welsh, and Irish might happily claim those qualities, audience members nodded vigorously. Asked whether there were common values between Scots and Arabs, many participants answered other questions instead. (One man mentioned “hospitality” and “a good sense of humour.” When I later suggested to him that his comment revealed such humour, coming from a nation whose slogan is, “Welcome to Scotland—you'll have had your tea,” he told me that was “Edinburgh.”)
Discussion of shared values eventually provoked the only “boo” and the first moment of heat. Gordon McCaskill, a Conservative councillor in East Renfrewshire, derided the notion that Arabs and Scots were at all comparable. In fairness, I believe he was misunderstood—perhaps wilfully so—by other audience members, who heard him denying the salience of “Arab” as an identity. Really, he was saying that “Scottish” is a narrow and nationally defined term, whereas “Arab” is a flexible, pan-ethnic culture that cuts across a huge geography.
A Glaswegian yes-supporter argued that Scottish independence is not nationalistic, which he termed a peculiarity among regions facing these decisions. The people deciding need not be born here. What matters is being here and feeling a part of Scotland, a nation he deemed inclusive enough to encompass the Arabs, Canadians, and Silesians who joined the radio discussion that day.
No straw poll was taken here: the BBC seemed more interested in how we used our various identities to gauge our inclusion in Scotland and, more speculatively, how those identities might change in an independent Scotland.