As we have become increasingly more aware of fake news and how it functions we have also come to recognise that more trustworthy news media sites – newspapers and news channels – have been, to quite some considerable degree, producing what amounts to fake news for a long time. Admittedly this is not fake news insofar as the content is not a simple fabrication, but the emphasis and the spin that many have been putting on the facts, often to political ends, certainly places them well within any acceptable definition of fake news.
Ever since Donald Trump called for closer US-Russian relations on 7 January 2017, whilst still president-elect, the United States has been pulled into a de facto soft coup, with powerful elements of the intelligence and military-industrial complex – the so-called “deep state” – mobilising against him. In no sense is this reflection an attempt to ingratiate myself to Trump or otherwise rehabilitate him. Donald Trump is, in many respects a liability, but even a broken clock is right twice a day. We simply cannot argue with the fact that, on aggregate, closer relations between the world’s two most powerful states will be good for everyone.
Whether or not we are paranoid or delusion we are all subject to comprehensive, deeply penetrative, and highly technologically sophisticated surveillance by the state. In a sense Edward Snowden did not tell us anything in 2013 we did not already suspect. When I came to Ireland in the 1990s the British government signals intelligence (SIGINT) centre at Cheltenham in England, GCHQ, was already well known, and was popularly assumed to be listening into and recording all telecommunications in the Irish Republic. It was assumed that because of the conflict in the six counties between Irish Republicans and the British state it was only to be expected that British Intelligence would listening to Ireland. This presumption was well founded.
Civil society is a naturally cautious and conservative set of relations and institutions, and when it is governed – if we can even describe such as governance – by the unambitious and women and men who are essentially followers of whimsical public demand it loses any forward momentum that theretofore existed. It gives way to socio-political inertia and begins to atrophy. There exists no better example of this than Brexit Britain.
Immense effort has been put into the unionist project of framing Scottish nationalism as the product of small-minded and petty Anglophobia. Both the Westminster establishment and the Scottish unionists have attempted, thankfully without much success, to paint the independence movement as a collection of under-educated and impoverished malcontents driven by a common hatred of the English. This could not be further from the truth.
How primitive of us to think that Gàidhlig is part of our heritage, our history, and our culture. We should know by now that only the master really knows our country. Perhaps we should write an apology: Tha sinn duilich gu dearbh, ach tha e àm a ghabh sinn ar dùthcha air ais.
We are enemies of the state. We are a greater threat to the existence of the state than any Islamist terror network that ever has or ever will exist. Great Britain has been faced with no comparable threat since the Nazi occupation of Europe. We are the advance guard of a movement of about two million Scottish voters. We are the politicised and engaged activists of Scotland’s independence movement, a largely left-wing separatist movement that is continuing to grow in strength and appeal.
Everyone has something to hide. Mark Zuckerberg can say that privacy is no longer the norm, but in his own private life he contradicts this by the extraordinary measures he and his wife take to keep themselves hidden even from their own neighbours. The things that we hide need not be criminal or immoral or shameful, it is simply the case that we are programmed to have secret and private lives as well as the life we lead in public. The argument that the innocent have nothing to hide begins to crumble when we suggest rigging people's homes with cameras.
Not so long ago the image of a super-wealthy international villain with designs on global domination was the stuff of fiction, the standard fare of the James Bond novels and movie franchise. A few years ago, with talk of the Carlyle and Bilderberg groups, it had graduated into the sphere of the crackpot conspiracy theorists. But now in the aftermath of Brexit the spectre of the plutocratic puppet master of geopolitics has at last arrived.
Governments come and go, but all the while there remains a permanent sub-structure to the state – the bureaucratic state – that remains essentially unaltered no matter which particular political party is in government or which particular personality is head of state or head of government.