The Thin Red Line: War, Empire and Visions of Scotland (review)

The publication of this book has been timely. It has appeared just as yet another defence review has set about dismantling and amalgamating famous Scottish regiments, arousing powerful passions in the process. SNP MPs have stormed out of the Commons; marches have taken place in Edinburgh and elsewhere; poster campaigns have been instituted; and, as this review is being composed, Labour MPs are going to be opposed in their constituencies. Of course, all this is tremendously familiar. It happened in 1957, 1968 and 1993, and in each case appears to have had very little effect on the subsequent election result. But it does seem to be emblematic of the way in which the Scottish soldier and the tremendous symbolism of his regiments are embedded in the national identity of Scotland. As Allan and Carswell rightly point out, the Edinburgh Tattoo has projected this image onto an international stage, demonstrating the supra-national dimensions of the accoutrements, music, dance and other aspects of the Caledonian military tradition.

Though this appears to be a coffee-table book, filled with illustrations, it is much more serious in intent than most of that genre. The authors took the brave decision to adopt a thematic rather than a chronological approach (there are four separate sections: Tradition, Strategy, Prospects, Reputations) and it works. They successfully set the Scottish military (in its widest sense, including references to the navy and the air force) into historical, cultural, social and economic contexts, attempting to explain why it is that the Scottish regiments and other aspects of the military seem such a central part of national identity.

The words 'popular culture' appear several times in their text, and they write from the standpoint of the history and collections of the National War Museum of Scotland. Yet there is no real analysis of the military in popular culture. Much more could have been made of paintings, engravings, the press (including the illustrated press like the Illustrated London News and the Graphic), music, civic, ecclesiastical and other forms of ceremony, film and television. If we are to produce a convincing explanation of why the image of the military has been so bound up with a self-conscious sense of Scottishness (with political and literary dissidents in the twentieth century doing very little to dent it), we have to understand the range, depth, and power of these popular cultural manifestations. But still this is a most successful book. Some of its purchasers may well be surprised by the seriousness of its approach and intent, but with a bit of luck they may be educated in the process.