The systematic eradication of our culture has been an essential component of English expansion for many centuries. In order to provide 'Living Room to the North' for Greater England (or 'Great Britain'), any Scot who did not assimilate and become English had to vacate; dead or alive. Examples of overtly racist legislation to enforce this policy abound in England's scandalous history. Most notable was the infamous Dress Act of 1747 which made it illegal for a Scot to wear tartan or any distinctively Scottish garment. It is most revealing that the proscribed punishment for dressing as a Scot, not an Englishman, was deportation from Scotland, thereby making room for English settlement. We know what the results of acts like this have been on Scotland's population today. But in the present era the abolition of Scottish culture is slightly veiled in a smokescreen of 'Arts Development' and patronisingly helpful lessons in 'How To Become Like Us'. As if the Anglocentric focus of the media were not enough, the Arts in the community at large are coming increasingly under tight English control and censorship.

The long arm of Imperial Law extends, as always, from London where the Prime Minister appoints the Arts Minister as well as the Secretary of State for Scotland. The Arts Minister appoints the Director of the Arts Council of Great Britain and then the whole jolly band gets together and appoints the Director of the "Scottish" Arts Council. As sure as the knee-bone connects to the thigh-bone, the appointments carry on all the way down to the silly wee Englishman who is paid to bang on bits of scrap metal in the name of 'Music' in Edinburgh's public parks. A sane society would tell him, politely but firmly, to stop frightening the squirrels.

But paying trendy cranks to move from England to Scotland and go around annoying folk shouldn't get in the way of the free expression of Scottish art and culture in our own communities. At least it didn't until the advent of 'Community Arts' and the dreaded 'Arts Officer'. These highly paid and overly powered parasites now infest nearly every local authority in Scotland. They have spread in from England during the Thatcher years and now control the arts centres, festivals, community projects, arts in schools, in hospitals, and - in collusion with the appropriate Officer in the "Scottish" Arts Council - they appoint the ultimate in cultural missionary; the Artist in Residence.

Your classical 'Local Arts Officer' is fresh up from England, loves the scenery 'up heah', dresses either like an unmade bed or a vampiress and is desperate to introduce Lancashire Morris Clogging to Drumchapel. In order to ensure that local artists are kept on starvation rations, the Arts Officer will often dole out great chunks of the Arts Budget to a private 'Arts Consultant' in exchange for 'advice'. Arts Consultants (in case you haven't yet encountered one) are either English or American, almost invariably named 'Nikki' or 'Josi', always write '/' instead of 'and' or 'or, and will coolly recommend the appointment of a 'Feasability/Accessibility Initiative Facilitator' who can resolve anything by formulating a Data Base. If you've seen the TV adverts for Gold Blend Coffee, then you know the species and how they live and love.

Of course there are some exceptions, but were you to cut off all of the fingers on which you counted the Arts Officers who knew anything about Scottish Culture, you could still learn to play the piano. Safer still to try counting the 'Arts Consultants' who don't conform to the above description. The basic principles behind a local government 'Arts' or 'Arts Development' Officer are reasonably sound, particularly considering that local councillors are elected according to their interests in buses and sewers, not their devotion to song and poetry. But the appointment system which extends from Whitehall to Brora has little input or accountability to Scottish artists or the general public. Artist in Residence posts for Lochalsh or Buchan are more likely to be advertised in the Guardian or the 'Arts Management Weekly' (which is not available in Scotland) than in the Scotsman or the Herald. Any requirement of a knowledge of Scottish culture which might come with an arts post is only tacked on at the lowest level of position, so that the appointment is actually made by people who are quite incapable of judging whether or not that requirement is adequately fulfilled.

There is probably no longer any English Conspiracy to Eradicate Scottish Culture; not even an instinctive desire to "English" the Scots. The missionaries who helped to destroy the culture of the American Indian no doubt believed their work to be in the course of 'enlightenment', any property acquired in the process being merely a welcome perk of the job. But it is almost fanatically fashionable among the English to move up to Scotland; goodness knows they need the lebensraum. What better way to get your hands on a salary to live in a Highland cottage than to be appointed 'Puppeteer in Residence' in Scourie? And if Nigel has always dreamed of getting out of Welwyn Garden City and becoming a bossy colonial Bigwig over quaintly out-of-date natives, a'Lindy-Hop' course at London's trendy 'Pineapple Dance Centre' will provide him with the basic skills to be the Dance Officer for Renfrewshire.

But, intentional or not, the consequences for Scottish Art and Culture of this unchecked structure are dire indeed. Children throughout Scotland are encouraged by the Cultural Missionaries to 'express themselves' in precisely the way that English children do. If dramatising 'Winnie the Pooh' helped the infants of Sussex to realise artistic impression, then why not the same for the children of Raasay? And if the Arts Officer for Banff and Buchan doesn't know of any Scottish musician to enrich the lives of the local folk, and advert in 'The Stage' will attract plenty of eager applicants from Hull and Swindon.

The administration of Scotland's halls, galleries and festivals is being given over more and more to appointees of the British Arts Hierarchy. This means that it has become more, instead of less, difficult for many Scottish groups to acquire space within which to train, rehearse or perform. The subsidising of newly arrived groups from England hads pushed up the price of publicly owned halls when they are available at all. Festival directors unfamiliar with Scottish performers make great efforts to bring up those they knew in their homeland. It is also certain that an English Arts Officer in Scotland is bound to feel intimidated by the very existence of a Scot who is better qualified or knowledgeable than they are, and the Arts Officer can exploit their position to avoid any embarrassment. Time and time again, 'Community Arts' festivals refuse to consider featuring any art form, or even any performers, not of English origin. If the 'Arts Officer' is from England, you can bet your next Giro that the 'Dancer in Residence' will come from England. Because it is exceptionally difficult to prove a case of discrimination in an artistic appointment, there is no legal means of dealing with the outrageous imbalance of this system. Local councillors have virtually no say in the appointment of personnel. But they can insist on certain qualifications, such as a knowledge of Gaelic for a post, if they take sufficient interest in the matter. They can also recommend that one type of art form should be featured rather than another. It is up to us to put the pressure on them to ensure that people who are sympathetic to and knowledgeable of our culture are put in charge of it. As for those already in place, we must watch them closely and ensure that they cannot use their positions to damage the very culture that they are paid to nurture. To date, certain individuals have stood out as vociferously malicious toward Scottish culture or inclined to reject any qualified Scottish applicants for an interview, preferring English applicants more familiar to them, but not appropriate for a post in Scotland.

Let the press and the politicians know what is going on, and how you feel about it.

© Siol nan Gaidheal, 1992