DEAR Europe,
We’ve been together for a long time and we in Scotland have a declaration to make. We are not of one voice but of many and we know you understand that better than most. It is one of the things we love about you – your broad understanding, your respect, your tolerance. The ability to unite where we need to and still each have a voice of our own. We both compromise – the art of negotiation is the signature on our pact. We will come and go. Mountain and valley. Flood and desert. Blue sky and grey. There is always a way.
We have explored you for centuries, Europe, sent our people and welcomed yours. We have wrapped our tongues around your words, my love, and made new words together. Built ships. Flown planes. Raced cars. We sent you our whisky in exchange for your wine. We’ve learned and we’ve taught. We’ve listened and we’ve spoken. We’ve been inspired by your brilliance and touched by your elegance. God, Europe, you are beautiful.
For decades now, we’ve kept a peace that would have been incomprehensible 100 years ago. We are both old enough to know that peace is not perfect but it is so much better than what went before. This seems a strange thing to say on St Valentine’s Day in a love letter to you, but what we have is not some ideal but a reality. A work in progress, day to day. Life upon life. Give and take. Imperfect. Passionate. It is both where we come from and where we’re going. Love is not an idyll to be attained but a debate. A journey. A road to be travelled.
We, in Scotland, do not seek a parting of the ways. In youth, people love perfection – flags and glory. In maturity we love that we can grow together. That we can trust each other. That individually we can shine. We are bound by a tangle of fragile blossom, strong on the vine.
We want to thank you for your sisterhood. And, yes, brotherhood too. For letting us lead and helping us follow. For admiring our power and ministering to our weakness. For sharing our vision. We have our history and that has value.
There is so much that joins us – so many people who don’t see boundaries but see bridges. We have the opportunity to talk of dreams and make some of them real. You helped us make changes that raise up all of us. You stood up for us. And soon, we hope we will have a chance to stand up for you, to raise our voices and say that we choose to belong.
So here we are, in front of you. Not only a country but a community, which is a country at its best. We live in times of change and challenge. For all our troubles we must not forget there are millions with less than we have, and some of those worse off because of our decisions.
Today of all days, let’s declare that love is not a noun but a verb and swear we must take action. We are ashamed not to have helped more. And we in Scotland are sorry. We want to shoulder your troubles as well as your joys, for that is the nature of love. Not to become one, but to be many and together.
Dear Europe, we are past our spring days now and in autumn light, low and bright, we stand side by side on the threshold. It’s not what we planned. In gentler times there’d be less hope. The view is a riot of richness, fog rolling, leaves turning, moss like velvet on the stones and that bright, southern light, yellow as butter. You have brought wine. We have brought whisky.
We raise a toast, “One for the road,” we say. The cork sucks uncertainty from the air. Leeches it. The glug is an anthem. The world never seemed set to swallow us till now. And with so much to give. We dreamed it differently, my dear. And now it might gulp us whole.
There was a time half a century ago, for better or worse, when Paris was a different city and Berlin built a wall, when we had more and knew less. Yet, here we are, we few, on the threshold. And Europe, now as much as ever, we love you.
Sara Sheridan is a best-selling Scottish writer and author.
Why are you making commenting on The National only available to subscribers?
We know there are thousands of National readers who want to debate, argue and go back and forth in the comments section of our stories. We’ve got the most informed readers in Scotland, asking each other the big questions about the future of our country.
Unfortunately, though, these important debates are being spoiled by a vocal minority of trolls who aren’t really interested in the issues, try to derail the conversations, register under fake names, and post vile abuse.
So that’s why we’ve decided to make the ability to comment only available to our paying subscribers. That way, all the trolls who post abuse on our website will have to pay if they want to join the debate – and risk a permanent ban from the account that they subscribe with.
The conversation will go back to what it should be about – people who care passionately about the issues, but disagree constructively on what we should do about them. Let’s get that debate started!
Callum Baird, Editor of The National
Comments: Our rules
We want our comments to be a lively and valuable part of our community - a place where readers can debate and engage with the most important local issues. The ability to comment on our stories is a privilege, not a right, however, and that privilege may be withdrawn if it is abused or misused.
Please report any comments that break our rules.
Read the rules hereLast Updated:
Report this comment Cancel