Is now the time to rise above despair and rally for independence again?

The headline writers struggled to find the right words. Barbaric. An atrocity. Depraved. Evil Upon Evil. In truth, there are no words to capture the full extent of the depths to which Putin has sunk. It is barely human.

My partner was in tears after she woke. What can you do but weep? And yet somehow the world must formulate a proportionate response. On Wednesday morning, I think we struggled to imagine anything beyond violence and revenge. I’m not proud to admit I wanted Putin dead. Whether by bomb or bullet, I did not care, I simply wanted the world to be rid of him.

READ MORE: Twitter told to act after Russia posts 'blatant disinformation' about Ukraine war

We will never forget those images from the hospital attack. They are seared on our consciousness forever. Of course the world has seen many horrors before the destruction on Wednesday. It is impossible to grade them in terms of “importance” or suffering. Every one is a tragedy, every victim a terrible loss. But there is something about destroying a hospital – and particularly a hospital where children are born into this world and where they receive treatment – that particularly makes us shiver. Something so devoid of empathy, stripped of goodness and humanity. It’s not just words which fail us; so too does our ability to understand how such brutality is possible.

And so we weep and wonder. What more can we do? Of course, this war has seen acts of heroism and selflessness to counteract the evil. Ukrainians of all ages risking their lives to save their country and their ways of life. Volunteers joining the fighting or helping the humanitarian effort. Russians taking to the streets to protest Putin’s bloodthirsty megalomania, in the full knowledge that they face prison and may never be seen again.

One day I will be able to properly acknowledge those acts of bravery again and wonder where that strength comes from. One day I’ll allow myself to believe that humanity has a basic goodness and that there is hope for the future. But for now, even when I close my eyes, all I see is death and destruction, bodies piling up, children in despair, acts of indescribable cruelty.

All those symbols of human creativity and togetherness which once provided comfort seem lost to us now. I cannot watch a film without feeling it is somehow inappropriate, trivial. Music has lost its life-affirming joy. How can I concentrate on books when so many are suffering and dying? When I go to bed at night it’s impossible not to think of those who have no bed, or no home, or no family. What can we do but weep?

And of course I know the dangers and the pointlessness of giving in to despair, of forgetting that culture represents the best of humanity, that magnificent films and music and literature cast light on what it is to be human and even in the darkest of times we need to celebrate that.

We need to remember too that to wallow in despair is to give Putin and those who follow him a victory. The world’s response will define us for decades. To escalate the fighting is to risk global annihilation. To watch as Ukraine is reduced to rubble and washed away in a sea of blood is to show how little we can do to stop a mad dictator in his murderous tracks. We must somehow find a path between.

Of course there are actions we can and must take. Our slowness to move to strip Russian oligarchs of their riches now seems inexplicable and shameless. There is no rational explanation for the fact that we are only now devising ways of boycotting Russian oil and gas. Why do we still force those Ukrainians fleeing the battle zone to jump through bureaucratic hoops instead of just throwing open our door and welcome them in? Why – despite decades of wars, conflicts, poverty, hunger, starvation – has the world not yet worked out a way of policing itself and imposing basic human rights on reticent regimes?

Why – after decades of living with the threat of radioactive wipe-out – do we still allow any country to possess nuclear weapons. If Putin’s war has shown anything it is that deterrent is a redundant concept. Nuclear weapons have not deterred Putin from invading Ukraine and they have made the West too frightened to intervene. Mutually assured destruction only works if we are prepared to push the button … and surely only a madman would do that? Today we are confronted with a madman on the rampage who gives every impression of being prepared to do anything to get what he wants.

And why – despite knowing for years that the climate crisis will inevitably destroy the plant unless tackled – do we still lack a global authority which would force us all to take the action necessary to save the world?

Of course, none of this is easy. But for humanity’s sake, it cannot be impossible. After all, what is more important?

READ MORE: Piper plays Ukrainian national anthem in show of solidarity at Yes rally

Last Saturday I went to the All Under One Banner pro-independence march in Paisley, and I’m not going to pretend that I did so without an internal struggle. I’ve never had much time for arguments against independence marches on the grounds that they didn’t change the minds of soft No voters in 2014 and they have not significantly done so since. Sometimes it’s important for the Yes movement to get together in marches and celebrate the prospect of independence. Everybody’s free to feel good.

It’s been a while since we got together in our thousands in major marches in Edinburgh and Glasgow. Now that Covid is receding, isn’t this the time to recapture that feeling?

Last Saturday there was still a voice in my head arguing the opposite. It told me there was no time for marches while war raged in Ukraine. It told me there were no connections between the war and Scotland’s desire for independence and even holding a march at this time seemed trite.

I went along anyway, but couldn’t rid myself of the nagging feeling that there was something not quite right. I’m not quite sure what attendance the organisers expected, but I thought it would be larger. I suppose most people’s minds were elsewhere, although those who did make the effort to attend were enthusiastic enough and displayed the friendly optimism we’ve come to expect at such events. But it felt a long way from 2014.

Those few months before the first independence referendum was one of the best times of my life. It seemed as if Scotland had woken up and grasped the opportunity which presented itself. Political debate was everywhere and the atmosphere was alive with possibilities. Covid and war have made the present times more complicated.

It may not feel the time to begin immediately campaigning hard for independence while Ukraine is fighting for its life against an inhumane despot, but the situation will not stay the same forever. One day we will be called upon to make the case again and we should be ready. When that time comes we will need much more than marches – enjoyable as they are – and a rehash of old arguments.

We will need a regenerated and different Yes movement, with new voices, new stamina and new arguments which reflect the situation in which Scotland finds itself today rather in harken back to 2014.

We need discussion, debate and direction. We need events such as the Progress to Yes event being organised by the Aberdeen Independence Movement for May 29. That will bring together already-established powerful independence campaigners, such as Business for Scotland, Believe in Scotland and this newspaper, with new organisations with a fresh perspective to explore how independence can help us build a better country.

No matter how important it is to help the people of Ukraine in whatever ways they think are most important, no matter how important it is to give and to show solidarity, we need also to rise above our current despair and despondence to concentrate – when the time is right – on building the better future for Scotland we know is within our grasp.