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‘Diasporic Otherness’: racism, sectarianism and

‘national exteriority’ in modern Scotland

Tristan Clayton

To cite this article: Tristan Clayton (2005) ‘Diasporic Otherness’: racism, sectarianism and
‘national exteriority’ in modern Scotland, Social & Cultural Geography, 6:1, 99-116, DOI:
10.1080/1464936052000335991

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Social & Cultural Geography, Vol. 6, No. 1, February 2005

‘Diasporic Otherness’: racism, sectarianism and

‘national exteriority’ in modern Scotland

Tristan Clayton
Department of Geography, University of Cambridge, UK

This article examines the twin problems of racism and sectarianism in Scotland, exploring
everyday experiences of them, the geographical bases of their production and their
relationship to the wider Scottish society. I use qualitative interview and ethnographic
research from Scotland, carried out in 2001, to examine these issues, arguing that they can
be usefully considered together, within a framework focusing on diasporic belonging,
hybridity and difference. These areas help uncover the positionalities of the groups
involved, relative to each other and to Scotland, as well as the processes through which
different minority groups are Othered and exteriorized whilst simultaneously (if
differentially) embedded within Scottish/British society. Referring these issues to the
ongoing political processes in post-devolution Scotland, ambivalences of belonging and
desire can be identified which serve to complicate diasporic identities, which make both
problems particularly intractable, and which pose questions for the construction of an
inclusive ‘civic’ identity in Scotland.

Key words: racism, sectarianism, identity, diaspora, hybridity, Scotland.

Introduction: theorizing diasporas ontologically separable as before, and ‘race’

The neat ordering of the world into nation-
states and the categorization of people
into biologically based racial groups have
become increasingly untenable; international
migration and geopolitical restructuring are
especially important forces here. The result
has been a reconfiguration of political space
and a re-working of previously stable socio-
cultural categories as issues of identity and
belonging come to the fore. In current
discourses (Castles and Davidson 2000) ‘us’
and ‘them’ are no longer as spatially and
and ‘nation’ are now accepted as socially
constructed, historically contingent ways of
interpreting the world.
The resulting interest in the ‘politics of
difference’ has defined much cultural geo-
graphical enquiry in the last decade
(Mitchell 1997), notably how the idea of
diaspora is a useful way of examining
this identity disorientation (Chow 1993).
‘Diaspora’ encompasses several useful con-
cepts here: it recognizes the role played by
multiple origins and spatial references in
a person’s sense of identity, as well as

ISSN 1464-9365 print/ISSN 1470-1197 online/05/010099-18 q 2005 Taylor & Francis Ltd
DOI: 10.1080/1464936052000335991
100 Tristan Clayton
the memories (direct and indirect) of the routes
which have crossed political and cultural
boundaries. It also identifies a ‘host’ group, to
which a greater or lesser degree of integration
or assimilation may be attained. Thus ‘dia-
spora’ identifies the contexts in which identities
defined by cross-border displacement are
created, as well as the social interactions
through which they are recreated and repro-
duced (Cohen 1997).
As such, the presence of a ‘diasporic Other’
has profound implications for the stable
category ‘us’—it challenges what is taken for
granted about who ‘we’ are (Bhabha 1994)
and what ‘our’ relationship to ‘them’ might be.
An important notion here is that of hybridity,
and how the transnational and transracial
bases of diasporic identities create a belonging
defined by ambivalence, not just between
places of origin and settlement, but within the
current place of settlement, and thus between
the diasporic and host ‘cultures’ (Alibhai-
Brown 2000a; Brah 1996; Gilroy 1996).
Naturally, the nature and dynamic of this
hybridity, and the socio-spatial relationships it
involves, change over time. Intermarriage and
intergenerational descent blur the boundaries
further, (re)creating the ‘diaspora’, the ‘host’
and their interaction.
Contemporary Britain illustrates this pro-
cess well: postwar immigration has brought
colonial ‘Others’, their identities and cultures,
closer. Their presence over many decades’
accompanied by ‘host’ responses of assimila-
tion, integration, toleration and resistance
have changed the nature of British society—
white Anglo-Saxon homogeneity (itself a
fallacy) has given way to discourses of
multiculturalism and multiracialism (Alibhai-
Brown 2000b; Clayton 2000; Kymlicka 1995;
Parekh 2000). Recently though, this has been
accompanied by a political reconfiguration
from within—devolution. Scotland and Wales
are achieving a degree of political autonomy,
partly in response to the mobilization of
secessionist nationalisms, and the growing
importance of national identity politics in the
Celtic periphery (Bogdanor 1999; Nairn 2000;
Taylor 1999). Indeed, many are proclaiming
the ‘end of Britain’ as a secure identity
category (Gamble and Wright 2000; Marr
2000) if not yet as a political fact.
The focus of my research has been on
Scotland, and how ‘diaspora’ might concep-
tualize the relations between various social
groups, focusing empirically on the non-white
and Catholic communities, and the problems
of racism and sectarianism that are present.
Much attention in Scotland has focused on the
nation’s sociology (Brown, McCrone and
Paterson 1998; Curtice, McCrone, Park and
Paterson 2002; McCrone 1992), usually from
a broad quantitative perspective, with rela-
tively little focusing on specific sectors of
society— Saeed, Blain and Forbes (1999) and
Qureshi and Moores (1999) being welcome
exceptions. It is these personal experiences and
opinions that in my view are crucial to
understanding diasporic relations in Scotland.
There are good reasons for exploring the
themes of racism and sectarianism in Scotland
together, even though the latter receives much
more press and academic attention. Firstly,
both involve oppression and exclusion, in
various ways, of a community defined by
immigrant descent. Secondly, the processes
involved in the ‘Othering’ of minority com-
munities and the strategies for coexistence
(peaceful or otherwise), also have parallels.
Thirdly, the ways in which both problems are
addressed and managed have crucial impli-
cations for the identity of ‘the majority’ and
the political landscape throughout Britain and
Ireland. In the case of sectarianism, Northern
Ireland is the obvious point of comparison;
with racism, it could be anywhere in Britain,

but notably the major cities. Scotland is thus a
good example of the geographical coincidence
of these two problems.
Examining the causes of racism and
sectarianism is beyond the scope of this
paper. Nevertheless, I do want to explore
how they occur, arguing that minorities in
Scotland occupy certain ‘diasporic spaces’
based on the processes outlined above. I also
argue that this encourages aspects of hybridity
described earlier, as spatial ambivalence of
identity and belonging places them in a
position of marginality. This position has
been theorized as that of an ‘outsider, inside’
(Walter 2000), reflecting minorities’ impacts
on the ‘host’ society and their ambiguous
relationship to changing political processes.
This notion has been adopted in Duddridge’s
(2000) idea of ‘national exteriority’, used to
describe the position of the English-speaking
Welsh as ‘linguistically external’ to ‘authentic’
Welsh-speaking Wales. Here the geographical
ambivalence is contained in the medium of
language rather than any diasporic memory.
Nevertheless, the principle is the same—if we
are to understand the experiences and pro-
blems of diasporic Others, we need to examine
how they are constructed as marginal or
external to the ‘authentic’ ‘host’ nation, and
not like the majority ‘us’. That this takes place
in Scotland as the mental and political
boundaries defining Scottish nationhood are
re-worked, and as Scottish nationalists empha-
size the importance of a civic, inclusive nation
that rejects racism and sectarianism, makes
this assessment all the more important.
Research methodologies: uncovering dia-
sporas
‘If . . . politics is to be democratic and not
dominated by the point of view of one group,
Diasporic Otherness 101
it must be a politics that takes account and
provides a voice for the different groups that
dwell together’ (Young 1990: 227). Situated
within the postmodern ‘cultural turn’ (Barnett
1998), I believe that perceptions and experi-
ences of Otherness and difference are best
explored in this manner—in a qualitative,
interpersonal way which attempts to under-
stand the positions and relations of specific
individuals and groups (Rose 1997): uncover-
ing their ‘buried epistemologies’ (Willems-
Braun 1997). Such diasporic epistemologies
are often hidden by the dominance of the
cultural mainstream, reducing Otherness to a
series of sanitized stereotypes: ‘the dominant
meanings of a society render the particular
perspective of one’s own group invisible at the
same time as they stereotype one’s group and
mark it out as the Other’ (Young 1990: 122).
Such ways of being and knowing the world are
often missed by more general surveys and
sampling methods. As such, my approach here
is similar to that of Pilkington (1998) in her
insight into the Russian diaspora in the post-
Soviet borderlands: I have sought to find
instructive examples of diasporic Otherness in
Scotland rather than any statistically repre-
sentative sample.
My research was carried out between
January and September 2001, in a variety of
locations throughout Scotland, though con-
centrated in the main urban areas where
racism and sectarianism are concentrated.
This was mainly for practical reasons, and
not to deny the existence of cultural Otherness
in the more rural parts of Scotland (Boyle
1997). Most of my work was based on fifty-six
interviews lasting between one and two hours,
held with a variety of people. Some located in
the political sphere (such as Members of the
Scottish Parliament, MSPs) were directly
contacted; others were existing research
recruits of mine or were contacted indirectly,
102 Tristan Clayton

Table 1. Geographical and identity profile of more real than the interviews, and deepening
interviewees my own knowledge and observations.
Identity category Glasgow/ Other It is also important to comment on the
(self-definition) Clydeside location Total position of me, the researcher. Although
White (Protestant) 10 3 13
English-born and objectively middle-class
White (Catholic) 8 3 11 (risking being seen as part of the socially
White (Other) 3 6 9 ‘dominant’ group), I reassured respondents of
Mixed race 3 2 5
my academic independence, and the privacy
Black (British) 2 3 5
Black (Scottish) 0 1 1 and anonymity of their experiences and
Asian (British) 2 2 4 opinions.1 Most respondents, despite some
Asian (Scottish) 3 3 6 initial reservations, were relaxed about the
Bangladeshi 1 0 1
Indian 1 0 1 interviews, many reporting their enjoyment at
Total 33 23 56 being able to talk to an ‘outsider’. My lack of a
Scottish accent, and the fact I introduced
myself as coming from London, may have
been important here in presenting myself as an
after personal recommendations. Most inter- ‘outsider’—not just to Catholic and non-white
viewees were recruited from notices I had respondents, but to Protestant and white
placed in local media, public places and on the ‘majority’ ones too. I now turn to an empirical
Internet. The demographic and geographical examination of racism and sectarianism in
breakdown of the respondents is shown in Scotland within the framework of diasporic
Table 1. hybridity and Otherness.
My aim in each interview was to understand
the implications of racism and sectarianism for
people’s everyday lives and how these affect Racism
the way people perceive their relations to
family, community and nation. Through this I The failure to recognize racism as a real issue
was able to position those involved within a extends even to the level of the Parliament:
framework of diaspora and Otherness, and former Scottish First Minister Henry McLeish
explore the salience of the issues of exteriority has asserted (Scottish Office 1999) that
and marginality (cultural, social and political). ‘Scotland does not suffer from major racial
I argue that this helps deepen our under- problems’. But racism exists, and ethnic
standing of the problems of racism and minorities have become an increasing part
sectarianism, and questions the existing frame- of Scottish life (Table 2), concentrated in
work within which strategies for their resol- Scotland’s urban areas, with around one in
ution are proposed. As well as enquiring about three living in Glasgow alone (Scottish
individual perceptions and experiences of Executive 2001). Between 2000 and 2001,
racism and sectarianism, three of my respon- there were 2626 racist crimes in Scotland, up
dents were also willing to accompany me on a from 393 a decade before (Scottish Executive
walk around specific areas of Glasgow (Ibrox 2002). The same survey showed the fear that
and Sighthill) where diasporic Otherness is an exists (35 per cent perceive racism to be a
everyday issue. These were invaluable for ‘frequent’ problem) and the experiences many
gauging respondents’ reactions in a context have had (in 2000 67 per cent had heard of
 Diasporic Otherness 103

Table 2. Scotland’s non-white ethnic composition mark him out as an Other, and thus someone
racists wished to send ‘back home’, and
Per cent of Population (1991)
Ethnic group population census that his family’s diasporic origins were
perceived as incompatible with belonging to
Pakistani 0.42 21,192
Chinese 0.21 10,476
Scotland:
Indian 0.2 10,050
Other Asian 0.09 4,604 One night this man was shouting outside our flat
Black–African 0.06 2,773
late one night. Shouting the usual abuse, saying that
Black–Other 0.05 2,646
Bangladeshi 0.02 1,134 we were dirty, and we shouldn’t be here. A group of
Black–Caribbean 0.02 934 them got together once, probably his mates,
Other 1.25 62,634 shouting that we didn’t belong here, that we
Total (Scotland) 1.3 65,594
Total (Britain) 5.5 3,300,000a should go back to ‘Paki-land’, that we were the ones
causing all the problems. With this feeling going on,
a
Approximate value. it’s no wonder people like us find it hard to fit in.
Source: Scottish Household Survey (1991).
There is also a generational dimension here:
younger respondents especially find them-
between one and ten racist incidents; the same selves torn within their diasporic identity,
number knew someone who had experienced between their Scottish birthplace, and their
at least one racist incident). ‘Other’, inherited identity. For many, this is
Public displays of racism and anti-racism not an issue for their parents and grand-
are common in many parts of the Clydeside parents, whose memory of diasporic origins
area, including posters organizing rallies and and movement to Scotland has enabled them
graffiti in support of the National Front, the to reconcile this duality:
BNP and the Anti-Nazi League. Some is
targeted in specific areas (such as housing I think people find it hard to understand where
estates like Sighthill) and often against specific people my age are coming from. We’ve got this
people and families. The order to ‘go back culture and this sense of ourselves which is based on
home’, echoing Bhabha (1998), is often our parents and where they came from, but not in
important here: the same way as them. My parents came from
Bangladesh over thirty years ago. I’ve never been
What are they on about when they shout at us to ‘go there. This is the life I know, but it doesn’t mean
back home’? I know they don’t think this is my I don’t have a strong feeling for my Bangladeshi
home, but I do. I was born here. I haven’t known origins, and my family brought me up to make sure
any other home than this one. My culture and my I did, as well as making sure I did my best to fit in
family background are different from theirs, of with the British way of life. It’s a weird kind of
course, but that doesn’t give them the right to single existence—I’m not quite one thing, and I’m not
me out and tell me where to go. I’m not doing them quite another. (20s British – Asian male, Glasgow)
any harm. (emphasis in interview) (20s British –
It’s been easier for my son and daughter to fit in
Asian male, Glasgow)
here—they haven’t known anything else. But I’ve
This respondent talked of a series of racist had to come to Britain and actually make my own
incidents he had experienced, how his skin life here, based on the life I already knew. For me,
colour and ethnic background were used to that’s been the easy part, because I can see where
104 Tristan Clayton
the division is, and I know that marks me out as an
outsider whatever I do. I don’t think my children
can do that—it’s a lot harder for them to decide who
they are. (50s Indian male, Glasgow)
Many young respondents felt at home
nowhere, racially alienated in society by virtue
of a culturally diasporic attachment from
which they are denied authentic experience.
The result is a progressive ghettoization within
society, even down to the scale of a specific
locality or housing estate. Walking with a
respondent around Sighthill, it was interesting
to hear his perception of the experience:
I won’t walk round here when it gets dark any more.
I’d move out if I could, but I can’t afford it, and
anyway, I wouldn’t leave my family here on their
own. If there’s any problem, I want to be here to
help them. But I do worry more, ’cos things are
getting worse, definitely. There’s a lot more
suspicion between the racial groups on these
estates. There are probably people right now
looking at us wondering what I’m doing walking
around the place with you. There’s drugs, crime,
a lot of problems. So you find yourselves staying
with the people you know and can trust. It pays to
be wary of everyone round here.
The concentration of racism in Scotland’s
urban centres, and the perception that tensions
are bound up with economic deprivation,
expressed by ‘angry young men’, persist. Some
members of the white majority used this idea
to justify racist opinions and actions,
especially in the light of political debate on
asylum and immigration:
Of course there will be problems when you’re in an
area as poor as Glasgow. Jobs are hard to come by
for a lot of people. That’s no good for their self-
esteem. And seeing all these immigrants doing so
well for themselves, shutting themselves up in their
own little groups and not lifting a finger to help
people who were born here, well that’s going to rub
people up the wrong way. (40s white male,
Glasgow)
This shows a strong perception that racism
is the result of the ‘immigrant Other’ coming
‘here’ and not being like ‘us’—an incompati-
bility which uses both cultural and economic
arguments to marginalize and exteriorize
those of diasporic descent. For some, hybridity
and the possibility of multiple axes of
belonging are impossible:
To most British people, my family will always be
outsiders, no matter how much we try and integrate
and contribute, which we do. We do try, but often
we’re hitting a brick wall. It’s almost as if we’re
trying too hard, and so that marks us out too. It feels
like my skin colour is what’s going to decide things,
how people treat me. There’s not much scope for me
to be who I want to be. (20s British – born male of
Somali descent, Glasgow)
It’s meant to be all hybrid identities isn’t it? Blair
wants his ‘Cool Britannia’ to be about Britain being
at ease with itself, and cherishing diversity. On the
street, in our everyday lives, it’s not like that. You’re
still seen as being a certain kind of person, and
there’s no room for manoeuvre. I would say I’m a
British Asian, but even within myself, different
parts of me come to the surface at different times.
But most people can’t cope with someone having
different loyalties. It’s as if you’re not as much a full
member of the club, as if you’ve got a hidden
agenda and you can’t be trusted. (emphasis in
interview) (20s British– Asian female, Glasgow)
Of course, racism extends beyond issues of
belonging, and beyond the visual and the
verbal: the murder in August 2001 of Firsat
Dag, a Kurdish asylum seeker in Glasgow’s
Sighthill area, is an extreme example. This
incident led to an anti-racism march on
Glasgow the following day, attended by

residents of many different ethnic groups, and
a vigil in memory of the victim. However, 200
local residents in Sighthill also gathered that
night to protest at the housing of asylum
seekers in such a deprived area, a factor they
claimed contributed to the atmosphere of fear
and mistrust that had led to Mr Dag’s murder.
The following day an Iranian asylum seeker
was stabbed.
Institutional and political responses
The murder of Firsat Dag was not an isolated
incident. In February 1998, Glasgow school-
boy Imran Khan was fatally stabbed by white
youths. Then, the justice system was keen to
deny the racial motivations behind the
attack, a stance for which they were criticized
(Kelly 2000). The murder three years later of
Surjit Singh Chhokar in Lanarkshire led to a
report accusing Scotland’s police and judi-
ciary of ‘institutional racism’ in the handling
of the case. These events have promoted a re-
think on the Scottish Executive’s policies
regarding the housing of asylum seekers, as
well as the wider question of race relations.
‘Institutional racism’ is a theme some have
seized upon as a catch-all term with which to
understand the processes leading to minority
marginalization. It is seen as an ‘invisible
barrier’, almost a conspiracy on the part of the
white majority to exclude them:
I don’t want to tar everyone with the same brush,
because there are far more good people than bad.
But there are many parts of this society which are
rotten. They are institutionally racist. A lot of it is
unintentional—a state of mind which gets handed
down over the years, so people don’t even think
about what they’re doing half the time. It’s the little
things that people don’t think twice about that
matter. And I think that’s what the politicians miss.
Diasporic Otherness 105
Talking about making a civil society in Scotland
that everyone can feel at home in, and where we’ve
all got the same rights and opportunities isn’t going
to work if there’s something wrong with the society
itself. Racism isn’t a problem in society—it’s
a problem of society. (emphasis in interview)
(40s black British female, Glasgow)
The fact this is placed within the rhetoric of a
civic Scottish nationalism is instructive.
Throughout Britain, the dominant political
discourse has leaned towards the racially
inclusive, with multiculturalism a political
and social ideal. In Scotland, this is an even
greater issue, as cross-racial unity is seen
alongside discourses of national identity
whose political agendas range from British
Unionism through devolution to separatism,
but whose cultural dimensions are based on an
ethnicized difference from England. How do
Scotland’s own ethnic minorities fit into
national constructions of identity? Scottish
nationalism has for many years placed itself on
the political Left (Nairn 1997, 2000), away
from right-wing ethnic identification (Smith
1986). National extremism does exist, and
some argue that it has been compounded since
devolution as Scottish nationalism has gained
a more powerful political voice:
Personally I was not in favour of the [Scottish]
Parliament, and when I see that there is not one
single minority face, I still have my doubts and my
reservations. We have had enough problems,
enough stigmatization trying to be part of a
British nation without having any problems to do
with Scottish-ness shoved in our faces. (40s Muslim
male, Glasgow)
It’s a similar story to these English people living in
Scotland. They’re getting more harrassment
nowadays for not being Scottish, and it’s the
same story for us. I don’t feel Scottish, but I do
106 Tristan Clayton
feel British. I know a lot of white British people
don’t like it, but now more and more white
Scottish people don’t either. (20s British-born
Pakistani male, Glasgow)
In other words, part of the hybrid diasporic
identity is a sense of belonging in Britain,
whether or not that is recognized and accepted
by the ‘hosts’. Becoming part of British society
was an important strategy of integration and
in the realization of the better life many
immigrants had sought, and has been stressed
to their children. This is reinforced by a
perceived incompatibility between the Scottish
heritage that defines a (white) Scottish nation
and its mixed contemporary society, even
among younger generations with no memory
of immigration, and who carry markers of a
Scottish identity, such as a Scottish accent:
I look at this [Scottish] national identity everyone
seems to be talking about, and I just can’t deal with
it, you know. I mean, what’s it meant to be? To us,
it’s something we can’t be part of, a relic from the
past . . . some kind of ossified tartan monster. Britain
is our home, and British is what we are. (20s Indian
male, Glasgow)
In the same way that diasporic minorities have
an ambivalence of cultural origins, their
experiences have also created an ambivalence
of belonging—being ‘un-Scottish’ by virtue of
both immigrant memory and British orien-
tation. Politically, many ethnic minorities are
wary of devolution and against independence,
another way in which their desires are seen as
opposing the ‘will of the Scottish people’, and
hence another dimension to their exteriority:
I would have liked Britain to be my home, but in
Scotland, that’s just not possible. I’ve visited
England, and I know first-hand that it’s not the
same. I envy black and Asian people who do live in
England, because they have that option open to
them. Up here, you know you’re living in Scotland,
and the people never let you forget it. Britain to me
is a more open, all-embracing nation to belong to.
But can you imagine what it would be like for
someone like me to go round shouting about my
love of Britain? No, the best policy I can have is
to keep my head down and not rock the boat.
(20s Scottish-born Pakistani male, Aberdeen)
Even Scots Asians for Independence has a
membership numbering only a few hundred,
out of a potential pool of many thousands.
One member was ambivalent, seeing member-
ship as more to do with pragmatism than
ideology:
I joined the Scots Asians for Independence so I could
feel more a part of Scottish society. A lot of
businessmen from my community are doing it. I don’t
think independence is really on the cards right now,
though if it happens that’s fine. It’s a historical fight
that we’re not really part of. All I want to do is make
the most of my opportunities here. (40s Asian Scot,
Glasgow, e-mail correspondence)
The new Scottish Parliament contains no non-
white members out of its 129 MSPs—startlingly
unrepresentative for a supposedly modern
chamber. Scotland also has only one non-white
Westminster MP, Mohammed Sarwar, who has
at least hinted, in a BBC documentary,2 that the
Labour party will be using a more pro-active
policy in its selection of minority candidates in
future. Nationalist MSPs are keen to push the
rhetoric of a civic identity that is compatible
with other attachments, but this addresses
neither the issue of everyday racism nor how
Scottish nationalism’s desire for independence
from the UK is compatible with a holistic British
identity that many non-white people in Scotland
(and many white people too) hold dear. Clearly
how we conceptualize national identity needs to

accommodate the marginal and ambivalent
positions held by minority sections of Scottish
society.
In summary, the idea of diaspora is a useful
way of conceptualizing how origins, senses of
belonging and political desires are neither
singular and fixed, but multiple and evolving
from generation to generation. To many, being
Scottish is an impossibility, with ‘British’ a more
accessible identity, even if this results in further
marginalization from discourses of Scottish-
ness that prioritize cultural separatism rather
than transnational diasporic hybridity.
Sectarianism
Enumerating Scotland’s religious composition
is difficult: it was not until the 2001 Census that
an optional question on religion was even
included. Nevertheless, figures are available:
Bennie, Brand and Mitchell (1997: 108)
and McGowan (2001) show that in 1992,
Scotland’s Catholic population was 16 per cent
higher than England. Like racism, the Catholic
population is also concentrated in the Glas-
gow/Clydeside area: here, the figure is 31 per
cent (Scottish Catholic Media Office 2002).
Enumerating sectarianism is, however, more
problematic than racism. Lynch (2000: 253)
notes that ‘[t]here remains a dearth of even the
most simple statistical information about the
prevalence and extent of sectarianism, despite
the preponderance of social surveys [and]
opinion polling’. Recording incidents as ‘sec-
tarian’ is not officially practised, not only
because of the difficulty in ascertaining what
constitutes a sectarian act, but also because of
the fear of over-reporting, and the unwelcome
media attention this would entail; nevertheless,
it is generally accepted that an unfriendly anti-
Catholic ‘chill’ exists, something clear from
many interviewees.
Diasporic Otherness 107
Feelings of victimization and ostracism are
accompanied by a perceived need to provide
separate spheres of activity to overcome
inequality and injustice. This challenge
becomes a struggle for both the sense of self
and community, and the preservation of a
distinct way of life. The evidence for the
existence of sectarianism is clear, beyond the
graffiti that litters Glasgow and Lanarkshire.
Schools, the institutions where future gener-
ations learn history, religion and politics,
where parts of their value systems are created,
and their perceptions of the world are
moulded, are intensely divided along faith
grounds: the unwillingness of parents to allow
even a minimal degree of mixing across the
sectarian divide (The Guardian 2002) illus-
trates the problems of overcoming such
embedded divisions. Several interviewees’
views were similarly entrenched:
They’ll never persuade ninety per cent of Catholic
parents to give up our schools. It’s a part of our
culture, along with our churches and our homes.
It’s the only way our children can grow up and not
lose touch with who they are and where they’ve
come from. Trying to get rid of our schools is only
going to make us dig our heels in—we’re not going
to give in to people who want to deny us our right to
exist. (40s Catholic female, Glasgow)
The local geography of sectarianism is similar
to that of racism. Although wholly Catholic or
Protestant areas do not exist (unlike Belfast),
certain parts of the city do have dispropor-
tionate concentrations, such as Govan and
Ibrox (Protestant) and the Gorbals (Catholic).
The Protestant ‘stronghold’ of Ibrox is home
to Glasgow Rangers Football Club, and was
where I was shown round by a local teenage
Catholic boy. Although he considered the area
safe on the whole, he would never wear his
Celtic football shirt or any other such markers
108 Tristan Clayton
of identity. The area’s symbolism is strongly
Protestant, with anti-Catholic and pro-loyalist
graffiti and ‘tags’ identifying local Protestant
gangs that made him feel marginalized:
These things are everywhere. It’s a way of marking
territory, and it’s the same in any Catholic area too,
so Protestants aren’t the only ones to blame. It’s a
way of saying who’s in charge, and that if you’re a
Catholic here then you don’t belong.
Though this was only when I asked for his
response:
It’s only because you’ve drawn my attention to it
that I can make it seem like a big deal. But it’s
something you have to learn to live with, and in
general, it’s only the work of a few local gangs.
After a while, you filter it out when you see it.
This echoes Billig’s (1995) idea that some
identity markers become so commonplace and
unquestioned that they assume a ‘banal’,
everyday status. This reinforces the idea that
sectarianism has become an embedded mindset
as much as a visible confrontation. My
respondent did point out the segregated nature
of much of his activity, with his main circle of
friends being Catholics in the area and beyond,
though this was not a conscious decision:
It’s true that almost all my close friends are
Catholics—there’s a few who live close by, but
most are spread around the city. It’s all down to the
fact that we went to school together, and hung out
together, and that we had these rival Protestant
gangs as our enemy. It’s not an issue you think about
in great detail or anything like that. If you’re a
Catholic in Scotland, that is just how it works out
for you.
This reflects the common belief that children
are ‘bred’ into a sectarian lifestyle that can
only make sense via its continuation. He also
made a class-based connection here, whilst
walking around a housing estate:
A lot of the sectarian problem is becoming very
isolated now. As more and more people get
wealthier, they see it suddenly as not so
important. They don’t need someone to pin any
blame on. That’s why it’s council estates like this
where you find it all happens—young boys with no
jobs, no prospects, nothing to fall back on. The
easiest thing to do is find someone to blame. I don’t
want to make it sound that it’s only the working
classes who are guilty, because sectarianism goes
deeper than that. Head out into the greener parts
of the city, or the smaller towns in Lanarkshire,
and there are the same attitudes. It’s just that
they’re held behind lace curtains rather than being
in your face.
The parallels with racism are striking: here,
too, direct sectarianism is seen as the domain
of young working-class men who feel rela-
tively deprived. More ‘respectable’ perpetra-
tors are seen as being behind the anti-Catholic
‘chill’ from the safety of Glaswegian suburbs
and satellite towns.
Sectarianism, like racism, has resulted from
the co-existence of opposing groups whose
identities are defined both by religion and by
geography. The Catholic community, like
Scotland’s non-white population, is rhetori-
cally marginalized and rendered exterior to the
‘host’ nation by reference to their historical
diasporic attachment to Ireland, their alleged
support for Irish republicanism and their
resultant hybridity of belonging:
We have this common heritage with Ireland, and
even if it is becoming less important, as long as the
troubles continue over there, then we’ll have
problems here. None of us is suffering in the same
way as previous generations of Irish immigrants
did, and yes, over time we have become more and
more assimilated into Scotland. That’s something
many people can’t understand. My children were
born Scots, just like any other, but as Catholics we

have a duty to respect our shared past. (40s Catholic
female, Glasgow)
Being a Catholic in Scotland nowadays does mean
being seen by certain people as an outsider. I’ve got
no truck with republicanism or the IRA. Quite
frankly what happens in Ireland now doesn’t bother
me a great deal. But the history of the Catholic
community in Scotland is still bound up with a lot
of Irish history, and even after all this time, it’s used
as a way of justifying hatred. I have to say that we
don’t do a lot to help the matter—too many
Catholics dredge up a history that they were never
part of. (30s Catholic female, Glasgow)
The presence of sectarianism is thus an issue
for the whole of Scotland because it has pan-
Scottish and extra-Scottish dimensions, and
affects Scotland’s entire image beyond its
borders: being associated with the troubles in
Northern Ireland should worry all Scots.
Sport is a good case in point, and has been
used as a means of gauging social and political
trends in Scottish society (Jarvie and Burnett
2000). Walker (2001) has looked in detail
at the sectarian dimensions to football in
Scotland. ‘Auld Firm’ Rangers (Protestant)
versus Celtic (Catholic)3 matches generally
take place four or five times a season, and
represent sectarian bigotry at its most evident.
Violent incidents occur frequently, with stab-
bings and deaths commonplace as religion and
football become interchangeable, ill-feeling in
one justifying action in the other. The fact that
an Auld Firm match is one of the few sporting
occasions in Scotland when almost no Saltires
are on show hints at the political aspect here.4
For example, Rangers fans fly the British
(Union) flag as a symbol of their joint
Protestant faith and belief in a united Britain
against an Irish Other.5 Sectarian chants and
songs, like their racist counterparts, have been
outlawed by both football clubs, with heavy
Diasporic Otherness 109
penalties for offenders. However, this does not
stop their presence, and combined with
sectarian symbolism, they contribute towards
a politically charged atmosphere. Rangers’
chants voice their fans’ support for Northern
Ireland’s loyalist population and include ‘no
surrender to the IRA’, as well as songs which
make reference to being ‘up to our knees in
Fenian blood’, exteriorizing the Catholic
Other by virtue of their Irish connections.
In response, Celtic fans fly the Irish
Tricolore as a symbol of support for the
Catholic population in Northern Ireland.
Their chants include The Fields of Athenry
(a rebel Irish repulican song), the Irish
national anthem, and others reflecting the
anti-colonial fight for Irish independence.
Many such songs include direct reference to
symbols of British Protestantism (Orangeism,
the Union flag, the monarchy), and the Irish
Republican political struggle is reflected in
local sectarian graffiti, showing support for
the IRA, and by declaring in Gaelic ‘Tioch-
faidh arla’ (‘Our day will come’). Protestant
graffiti also reflects this struggle, replicating
the troubles of Northern Ireland on the streets
of Glasgow. Their messages target Catholics
by attacking figures such as the Pope, and by
showing support for Ulster loyalist groups.
Walker’s article argued that not enough
attention has been paid to the ambiguous
nature of the Protestant identity in Scotland:
Scottish Catholicism has often been seen as the
Other which may be compared to and
exteriorized by a stable Protestant norm
without the latter actually being examined.
A recurrent interview theme was just how
much Protestant normalcy is itself questioned:
Yes, we celebrate our Irish heritage, but we’re
happy to share our loyalties with Scotland. It’s not a
problem for us because over time, it’s something
we’ve worked out as a community. Where
110 Tristan Clayton
the Protestants fall down is they think they are
somehow at the centre of our society, when in fact
they are no more Scottish than anyone else, and
most of them have roots or loyalties somewhere else
as well. Once they work out they’re no better than
us, we might get somewhere. (30s Catholic male,
Glasgow)
They’re both as bad as each other, but neither will
recognize the fact that there are victims and villains
on both sides. And neither of them has Scotland’s
interests at heart. The Protestants might think
they’re being our guardians against an intruder, but
I don’t believe they represent the core of the Scottish
people. (20s Scottish male, Glasgow)
The idea that both sides are equally culpable
reveals a belief that both have an ambivalence
of belonging which exteriorizes them in many
people’s eyes as ‘unScottish’. For Catholics,
this is defined diasporically to Ireland, and for
Protestants it is defined within a broader
British anti-Catholic colonial history.
Institutional and political responses
It would be as wrong to suggest sectarianism is
everywhere in Scotland as it would to
condemn everyone in Northern Ireland as
bigoted. Cross-religious friendships, commu-
nity projects and marriages are numerous, and
over the decades have helped Catholics to
become embedded in Scottish society; this can
only help foster a more bipartisan environ-
ment. Some positive steps emerge out of
tragedy, such as (Protestant) Cara Henderson’s
‘Nil By Mouth’ organization aimed at combat-
ing sectarianism, created after her Catholic
boyfriend was stabbed to death whilst wearing
a Celtic shirt (The Guardian 2001). The
mechanisms to bring people together exist,
but projects are usually too small (and openly
resisted by some—Henderson has received
numerous personal threats since her organiz-
ation was founded) to have the deep societal
changes that are required. Cara Henderson
has even likened Scotland to ‘an alcoholic,
refusing to admit its problem’. One MSP told
me about his low hopes, and the need for
education as a primary policy focus:
I’m not entirely certain, apart from making
appropriate noises really, if the Scottish
Parliament . . . can physically do much about it.
I mean hopefully they can do the uniting thing in
schools and different places like that, they can
support initiatives of that kind. They can look
towards, perhaps, schools on joint campuses and
things like that. (Glasgow MSP)
Overcoming sectarianism will not be easy,
even if Scotland’s streets are clear of guns,
bullets and bombs. However, it is clear that
multi-partisanship (rather than impartiality)
(O’Neill 2000), as seen in Northern Ireland’s
devolution settlement, is needed as a way of
taking account of both sides’ hybrid position-
ality. Catholic and Protestant sectors of
Scottish society need to feel involved in
political debates, but they also need shared
meanings to be developed in the ‘new Scot-
land’, as well as a recognition that neither has
a monopoly over either suffering or belonging
in Scotland. As Finn (2000) notes, a degree of
pluralism and cross-community institutionali-
zation, not least in the educational sphere, is
long overdue. The Scottish Parliament, partly
designed to foster a new civic Scottish identity,
has a crucial role to play in these aims.
Sectarianism is the product of the relation-
ship between groups whose exteriority with
respect to Scotland reflects an ambivalence
between their extra-Scottish origins and
loyalties (strong determinants of their identity)
and their desire to integrate within Scottish

society. There is no doubt that Protestants feel
very much a part of Scottish society, not least
because their construction of Scottish-ness is
usually Unionist, and able to accommodate
their sense of belonging to Britain. However,
the same cannot be said for Catholics. Reilly
(2000: 32) has argued that ‘[t]oday we inhabit
a transformed landscape. The ‘Irish’ have been
integrated and socially included; . . . we are all
Jock Tamson’s bairns’. Additionally, Bennie,
Brand and Mitchell (1997: 117) have shown
that religion is not a factor in determining
either strength of Scottish national identity or
political attitudes regarding Scotland’s future.
The idea that a more inclusive post-devolution
civil society is developing is not without some
merit. However, Hickman and Walter (2002)
argue that the degree of Irish – Catholic
embeddedness has been overstated. Several
Catholic interviewees were keen to stress that
intergenerational descent and intermarriage
have produced a strong ambivalence:that
Catholics are simultaneously embedded
within Scottish society and exteriorized from
it, either on a systematic, continual basis, or
under specific conditions.
The idea that the sectarian divide can be
bridged by emphasizing participation and
allegiance to Scottish society above all else is
gaining credence, as several interviewees
commented:
A Catholic can put on a shirt and cheer for our
[national] team next to a Protestant wearing the
same shirt. Religion doesn’t have to be so important
to people if they can find something that unites
them. And all of them have Scotland in common.
If we can get them to unite for the good of Scotland,
then we’ve all got so much to gain. (50s Scottish
nationalist male, Aberdeen)
If they took a look at themselves and saw that,
behind all the Catholic and Protestant labels,
Diasporic Otherness 111
they’re all Scottish underneath, that might just
help them change the way they think and the way
they act. It might be asking for too much.
(20s Scottish nationalist male, Aberdeen)
Though as this last person warned, problems
remain. The SNP, seen as the main force
behind such an all-encompassing Scottish
national movement, has been criticized by
Gallacher (2000: 44) for their approach to the
sectarian question: ‘[l]ike all nationalist
parties, it promotes a synthetic unity and
prefers to turn its gaze away from awkward
examples of division that dent the image of
Scotland as a united community fit to walk
into the everlasting sunset of national state-
hood’. Many Catholics are also suspicious of
Scottish nationalism, not because they per-
ceive it to be a Protestant project (Protestant-
ism and British Unionism are closely related),
but because of their close historical links with
the Scottish Labour Party, which has played
an important role in the integration of
working-class Irish Catholics in Scotland,
and which opposes outright Scottish Indepen-
dence. Catholic diasporic hybridity has
produced not just an ambivalence of belong-
ing (Irish/Scottish) but a concomitant ambiva-
lence of desire—of simultaneously being part
of Scotland, but where historical and con-
temporary Othering leaves many unable to
forget their extra-Scottish origins, a dimen-
sion to their identity which lies behind
feelings of exteriority.
In summary, sectarianism is an issue which
contains paradoxes—it is palpably evident, yet
often denied. It is seen as irrational, yet is
vigorously defended. Talk is of overcoming
fear and hatred, yet evidence of this is lacking.
And those involved are united by their
Scottishness at the same time as a historical
attachment to a political entity outwith Scot-
land’s borders often overrides this. This
112 Tristan Clayton
diasporic position—of being both embedded
and displaced, being inside and outside—
destabilizes the notion of a clear belonging and
political desire. Despite little evidence for
objective Catholic disadvantage or exteriority,
a clear hybridity of belonging exists, and is
seized upon by groups within society to
reproduce and reinforce the lines of difference.
Conclusions: diaspora and nationalism
Figure 1 summarizes the important points in
this article, illustrating the geographical
origins of sectarian and racist tensions, and
the nature of the diasporic identities of the
principal groups involved. It shows that the
legacy of Catholic migration to Scotland,
the history of colonial suffering and the
presence of British-oriented Protestantism,
Figure 1 The geographical origins of diasporic Otherness in Scotland.
have combined to create the sectarian
divide. Similarly, post-Imperial migration to
Scotland from the former British empire and
elsewhere, combined with the presence of
the dominant white identity, and historical
discourses of racism that accompanied
Scottish complicity in the British empire,
have created another dimension to diasporic
Otherness.
From this, and the empirical analysis
of this paper, we can draw a number
of conclusions regarding the theorizing of
diasporic identities:
. The groups marginalized by sectarianism and
racism possess identities that, although
diasporic in origin, cannot be simply
conceptualized as a hybridity of ‘home’/
‘host’. In both cases, intergenerational
attachments question how and the degree to

which origins can be remembered, used and
considered as ‘home’ (Alibhai-Brown 2001).
. The presence of post-national, secular
influences on diasporas (Soysal 2000) has
the potential to re-define the nature of the
groups’ relationships to the ‘host’ society, as
well as how their notions of culture and
belonging are constructed (Gilroy 2000).
. Central to both these points is the notion of
national exteriority, applied for the first
time to Scotland here, but also applicable in
my opinion to groups in similar situations.
The ways in which different groups are
exteriorized, both as a result of diasporic
origins and the rhetorical exteriorization of
those who marginalize them, affect min-
orities’ own communities, prevailing strat-
egies for co-existence, and the longer-term
cultural and political direction of the wider
nation.
. Exteriority also allows the contested and
fluid conceptions of ‘majority’ to be
appreciated, itself an important dimension
to the diasporic experience. In this respect,
the presence of Britain, and Scotland as a
continuing integral part of the Union,
provides a further layer of ambivalence
and exteriority for all groups in Scotland,
whilst also being a contested terrain on
which the future of Scotland as a nation is
being negotiated. Racism and sectarianism
prove that the blurring of group boundaries
and the reconfiguration of political and
cultural categories are neither complete nor
uncontested processes.
Tackling both problems will not be easy; how
the nation-builders of post-devolution Scotland
manage racism and sectarianism will influence
the political nature of its society, and this will
affect the positions of all groups. Since 2001,
First Minister Jack McConnell has placed
greater emphasis on tackling sectarianism,
Diasporic Otherness 113
and new anti-racism projects have developed.
Some (like ‘One Scotland, Many Cultures’) are
a product of the Scottish Executive, others
(such as recent community-building efforts on
Sighthill), are more locally based, all aim to
build important cross-cultural bridges. Civic
nationalism is seen as the key here, though this
also entails problems (Clayton 2002; Tempel-
man 1999), especially if ethno-religious tensions
remain unresolved and inequalities of power
and status remain. Within the theoretical
framework of exteriority, civic nationalists
must also consider which civic nationalism
(Scottish, British or something else?) would best
act as a normative model of community co-
existence, and whether crossing boundaries of
exteriority to get there is considered possible
or even desirable. Rather than eradicating
divisions between ‘us’ and ‘them’, we must
be wary of further entrenching them.
The evidence of this paper should act as a
reflection of how deep two of Scotland’s social
problems run. I hope it also shows that tackling
them depends on a careful appreciation of
the complex geographical positionality of
both groups involved, and of the Scottish nation
as a whole.
Acknowledgements
An earlier version of this paper was given as a
seminar at the Department of Geography,
University of Cambridge: I wish to express my
thanks to those who provided useful feedback
on that occasion. I would also like to thank
Gerry Kearns and Rafe Blandford for their
helpful comments on this paper, Dale Dud-
dridge for a discussion on the idea of ‘national
exteriority’, and two anonymous referees for
their advice. Most thanks go to the inter-
viewees whose words form such an important
part of this article. I hope I have been able to
114 Tristan Clayton
represent their views as faithfully as they were
originally expressed.
Notes
1. Where excerpts from interviews are used, they are
followed by a brief description of the interviewee, using
my respondents’ own words regarding self-definition.
2. East: Bravehearts and Bhangras (originally broadcast
on BBC2, 23 August 1999).
3. This division is not set in stone, though. Some
supporters profess no faith, or consider religion and
football to have minimal connection. As far as players
are concerned, Mo Johnstone created shockwaves in the
1980s when he became the first Catholic player to sign
for Rangers. Many supporters (on both sides) were not
impressed.
4. Indeed, a report into the ‘Tartan Army’, the fans who
follow the Scottish national football team, found that
disproportionately few members support Rangers or
Celtic as league clubs (BBC News 2000). Given the
dominance of these two teams in domestic football, it
suggests that many follow football purely for the
religious connection, having national loyalties
elsewhere.
5. Rangers (like many football clubs) has also suffered
from racism among its supporters. For example, the
racist chants and the throwing of bananas at (Rangers’
own) black player Mark Walters in the 1990s, and the
fact that outside Ibrox on match day is one of the few
places in Scotland where the BNP openly sell their
newspapers (Wood 2000).
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116 Tristan Clayton
Abstract translations
«La diaspora d’Autrui»: le racisme, le sectarisme et
«l’extériorité nationale» en Écosse moderne
Cet article propose d’examiner le racisme et le
sectarisme qui posent un double problème en Écosse
en explorant de quelle façon ils sont vécus dans le
quotidien, les aspects géographiques de leur for-
mation et leur rapport à la société écossaise dans
l’ensemble. J’étudie ces questions en me servant d’une
recherche qualitative par entrevue et de type
ethnographique menée en Écosse en 2001. Je fais la
démonstration que ces questions peuvent être
simultanément prises en compte à l’intérieur d’un
cadre qui comprend l’appartenance à une diaspora,
l’hybridité et la différence. Ces champs permettent de
révéler les positionnements des groupes sous étude
par rapport à eux-mêmes et à l’Écosse, et les processus
par lesquels divers groupes minoritaires deviennent
Autrui et sont extériorisés alors qu’ils sont simultané-
ment (mais avec un écart) incorporés dans la société
écossaise et britannique. En ramenant tous ces
problèmes de fond aux processus politiques en cours
en Écosse de la période post-dévolution, il est possible
d’identifier des ambivalences concernant l’apparte-
nance et le désir qui ont pour effet d’embrouiller les
identités liées à la diaspora, de rendre les deux
problèmes notoirement plus complexes, et de
soulever des questions sur la construction d’une
identité «civique» et plurielle en Écosse.
Mots-clefs: racisme, sectarisme, identité, diaspora,
hybridité, Écosse.
‘Otredad diaspórica’: racismo, sectarismo y ‘exter-
ioridad nacional’ en la Escocia actual
Este artı́culo examina dos problemas que van de la
mano en Escocia: el racismo y el sectarismo.
Explora experiencias cotidianas de los dos fenóme-
nos, de donde surgen geograficamente y su relación
con la sociedad escocesa más amplia. Hago uso de
entrevistas cualitativas e investigaciones etnográfi-
cas realizadas en Escocia en 2001 para examinar
estos temas. Sugiero que es útil considerarlos juntos,
dentro de un marco que se centra en ideas
relacionadas con el sentido de pertenecer a una
diáspora, ‘hibridad’ y diferencia. Estas áreas de
investigación ayudan a revelar las posicionalidades
de los grupos implicados en el asunto, los unos en
relación con los otros y en relación con Escocia,
y también revelan los procesos por los cuales
diferentes grupos minoritarios llegan a ser con-
siderado ‘otro’ y al exterior de la sociedad aunque
simultáneamente forman una parte integral de la
sociedad británica/escocesa. Si se examina estos
temas dentro de los procesos polı́ticos en curso en
Escocia desde la transferencia de competencias del
gobierno central, se puede identificar ambivalencias
de deseo y del sentido de pertenecer. Estas
ambivalencias sirven para complicar identidades
diaspóricas, lo cual hace que los dos problemas sean
inextricables y que planteen problemas para la
construcción de una identidad ‘cı́vica’ inclusive en
Escocia.
Palabras claves: racismo, sectarismo, identidad,
diáspora, hibridad, Escocia.