I’m a bit outraged at The Herald’s headline this morning - as apparently Scotland is “on the frontline” if there’s a conflict with Russia. Faslane, Lossiemouth the first to be hit. Convenient timing, eh? Geneva goes our way, and suddenly Westminster wants us all picturing mushroom clouds over the Clyde. I have thoughts… 1. Geography doesn’t change with flags. Those bases are strategic because of where they are, not because of which parliament they answer to. Independent or not, they matter to NATO. 2. NATO membership doesn’t disappear with independence. An attack on Scotland would be an attack on all NATO members. Collective defence still applies. 3. “Scotland first, England safe” is fantasy. If Russia ever struck the UK, they wouldn’t politely stop at the border. London, Portsmouth, Devonport, Brize Norton… all are high-value targets too. The whole island is in it together. 4. Nuclear deterrent works both ways. Everyone knows that hitting Faslane would trigger a NATO response. That’s why these “you’d be first” scare stories are political theatre, not military reality. 5. While this one’s purely speculative - why are we being encouraged to keep Trident in our waters, if that makes us a target?? Funny that… it almost feels like a set up, a contingency plan… is Westminster in cahoots with Putin? Should we gain our independence, Russia is all of a sudden taking an interest? Randomly? I doubt it. I think the truth is more like: Westminster isn’t worried about Russia. They’re worried about us. Because if Scotland stands tall on the world stage, their last line of defence is fear. We’ve outgrown their bogeyman stories. https://www.facebook.com/share/p/19XnDeRcti/?mibextid=wwXIfr

On the 31st of January 1919, George Square in Glasgow became the stage for one of the most shocking betrayals of Scotland’s working people. An event that’s been buried under “British history” for over a century: the Battle of George Square. Tens of thousands of workers - men who had just returned from war, women who had kept industry alive during it, and the poor who were expected to swallow “business as usual” in the aftermath, gathered to demand something simple: a 40-hour working week. Not a revolution. Not the overthrow of the state. A fair week’s work to spread the jobs around and stop mass unemployment. Glasgow answered the call, with some 60,000 to 100,000 people filled George Square. They were loud, they were proud, but they were not armed. This was democracy on the street. And what was Westminster’s response? Fear. Pure fear. The establishment was so terrified of Scots finding their voice that they labelled it the start of a Bolshevik uprising. The police waded into the crowd with batons. Violence exploded. And when the workers held their ground, Westminster escalated in a way that should chill every Scot to the bone: They sent in the army. Tanks. Machine guns. Troops on the streets of Glasgow. Within 24 hours, 12,000 English troops were sent to Glasgow. Six tanks and machine-gun units were stationed at key points. They deliberately didn’t use Scottish troops (many were war veterans sympathetic to the strikers). Hundreds were injured, contemporary reports suggest dozens of serious head wounds from police batons. Exact numbers were never properly recorded (which in itself is telling). This wasn’t Berlin. This wasn’t Petrograd. This was Scotland. Ordinary Scots, fresh from the battlefields of France, now facing down the weapons of their own state for daring to demand fair work and dignity. No revolution ever came. The strike was broken. The tanks rolled away. But the message lingered: when Scots challenge the British establishment, Westminster does not negotiate. It suppresses.