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By: Jill Lawless
In the late winter dusk, hundreds of Vikings are marching down to the beach, bearing flaming torches. Their studded leather breastplates glint in the firelight as they roar and sing. It’s a scene that would have struck terror in the hearts of Dark Age Britons — and also perhaps an unsettling one for modern politicians on both sides of Scotland’s independence debate.
The fearsome-looking participants in a Viking fire festival known as Up Helly Aa live in Scotland’s remote Shetland Islands, a wind-whipped northern archipelago where many claim descent from Scandinavian raiders. They are cool to the idea of Scotland leaving Britain to form an independent nation, and determined that their rugged islands — closer to Norway than to Edinburgh — will retain their autonomy, whatever the outcome of September’s referendum.
“Shetland is different. We have Viking blood in our veins,’’ said the procession’s magnificently bearded chief Viking, or Jarl — by day a local authority housing officer named Keith Lobban.
There are only 23,000 Shetlanders, too few to make much difference to the outcome of the independence vote. But they have Viking-sized confidence, and a big bargaining chip: a chunk of Britain’s oil and gas reserves lie beneath Shetland waters. Shetlanders are seeking new powers and official recognition of their special status. The islanders feel their moment may have come, as Scotland’s fluid constitutional status gives them opportunities to seek concessions from both sides.
Tavish Scott, Shetland’s representative in the Scottish Parliament, said an independent Scotland “doesn’t have an economy if oil and gas doesn’t happen. And that gives Shetland some leverage”.
A “yes” vote for independence on September 18 would trigger complex negotiations between Edinburgh and London over Scotland’s share of Britain’s offshore oil and gas — and of its trillion-pound national debt. A “no” vote is likely to lead to talks about giving Scotland more power of its economy and resources — especially its energy reserves.
Authorities in Shetland, which enjoys many local-government powers such as raising taxes and running schools, see the referendum as a chance to drive a hard bargain.
For centuries, Shetland was a poor place, ignored by governments far to the south and reliant on the unpredictable fishery industry and on making knitwear from sturdy local sheep. But the islands have prospered since large reserves of oil were discovered offshore in the 1960s.
Shetlanders are keen to have control over their resources — oil, gas, fish and even wind — and are wary of government meddling, no matter where that government is based.
Local lawmakers have suggested that Shetland and the neighbouring Orkney islands might demand a bigger share of oil and gas revenue as a condition for joining Scotland. An online petition calls for islanders to hold a separate referendum on whether to join Scotland, stick with Britain or declare independence — although the legality of any such vote would be questionable.
Shetland was Viking-ruled until it was mortgaged to Scotland by the king of Norway in 1469 to raise a dowry for his daughter. There are still many Norse words in the local dialect, and Shetland abounds in Scandinavian place names such as Vidlin and Tingwall.
In Shetland, a strong sense of independence is balanced by a pragmatic streak that has led many to conclude their best bet is to remain part of Britain. “I don’t think isolation works anymore,’’ said David Suckley, who runs an engineering firm in Lerwick. “We all depend on one other to such an extent nowadays. “You can be too independent, and you’re very lonely then.”
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