Berkley Center

One of the first things I learned upon arriving in Scotland—even before classes officially started—was never to conflate it with England. Sure, they may share the same currency, enjoy the same evening activities (i.e. going to the pub), and ultimately voted “naw” to independence, but Scots still pride themselves as being different from the English.

My curiosity took root. Surely it couldn’t just be the lyrical accent and affinity for haggis that set the northernmost country in the United Kingdom apart from its southern counterparts? After making the mistake a couple of times and receiving repeated reminders from students that they were “Scottish, not English,” I finally mustered the courage to go to the direct source: local opinion. As my friend from Aberdeenshire poured herself a cup of tea, I joked, “I always thought that the predominant difference between the Scots and the English is that men here wear kilts, but then I found out that kilts are actually more popular south of the border so that clearly isn’t it. What do you reckon sets the Scots apart from the English?”

“I think the key distinction for us—especially amongst young people—is that we’re much more liberal than the English.” She stated once her laughter died down.

Most of my other Scottish friends were of the same opinion. Some of the policy differences they cited included their support for road-use savings for drivers of environmentally friendly cars and their abhorrence for the death penalty and nuclear weapons. The one that piqued my interest the most was their compassion for immigrants.

Just as Donald Trump’s presidential campaign has become the centerpiece of American media, the refugee crisis continues to dominate the front pages of news outlets across Europe. The media’s portrayal of the European governments’ scramble to solve the crisis makes the dream of European integration comparable to a crystal vase; both are beautiful until they crack under too much heat. Divides, both physical and political, have been erupting across the continent as states squabble over how to distribute the responsibilities of solving the crisis as refugees continue to pour in by the boatloads. As newscasters blast how countries are fracturing off in their responses to the crisis, it seems as though European integration is fraying at the seams.

The fissures aren’t occurring just between states, but within them, too. In spite of being united under one government, Scotland has been much more proactive in its support for refugees than has England. A few days after the House of Commons squashed the Scottish National Party’s (SNP) motion for a debate on the refugee crisis, candlelight vigils in support of Syrian refugees ignited across Scotland.

When I attended one of the vigils in the neighboring city of Dundee, the warmth of the Scots’ welcome towards some of the world’s most vulnerable people moved me. Naomi Aucliffe, the program director of Amnesty International in Scotland, summed up her country’s stance on BBC radio when she said, “Scotland has demonstrated that it does have a far more positive response to those kind of humanitarian disasters and therefore it is quite positive for refugees to come into that context.”

Scots prove their compassion not only with words, but also through their actions. The event I attended was teeming with people who had braved the miserable UK drizzle to attend the vigil. A table in the corner heaved under the weight of the clothing collection drive for migrants in Calais. We were told that in just five days, Dundee Refugee Support raised just under £5,000 (approximately USD $7,765) for refugees and migrants.

When I later mentioned to a friend how impressed I have been with both Scottish whisky and welcome, she hesitated and reminded me that part of Scotland’s attitude towards refugees may be because the country has so far been geographically insulated from the reality of the crisis. Still, coming from Australia where the government’s solution to asylum seekers has been to offshore them to neighboring countries for processing and resettlement, I’m glad that the Scots seem happy to offer a pint not only to visiting students, but also to those most in need.