Words: Lucy Donoghue (she/her)
There is perhaps little more sickeningly cringe-worthy than Trump’s admiration for Scotland, which he communicates with the passionate desecration of our natural landscapes for his golf courses. These days, it’s as if we are creeping further and further towards the dystopian futures we read about as children. If an unelected tax-avoider can be the UK’s head of state and invite a convicted felon to enhance their ‘very special relationship’, then it’s safe to say that we’re already living in that authoritarian reality.
Back in February, in an official meeting with Donald Trump, Keir Starmer handed over an invitation from ‘King’ Charles, inviting the president for a UK state visit. It was with this invitation that Charles proposed the idea of a visit to one of his many palaces in bonnie ol’ Scotland. We will have to put a pin in Charles’ imperious role as the ultimate evil landlord for now – because what stands out from this invitation is the focus on Scotland, rather than the UK as a whole. It is not customary for second-term US Presidents to venture on a state visit; they are typically invited to Windsor Castle for lunch. In a mutual sooking-up bid, Trump referred to King Charles as ‘a beautiful man, a wonderful man’. Undoubtedly, Trump’s definition of wonderful leaves a lot to be desired. However, in the UK, a nation so bogged down with archaic traditions – the concept of monarchy included – why the deviation?
Well, the signs are all there. Scotland is being used as a political pawn; a negotiating platform from which the monarchy can balance the UK’s relationship with the US. This is no coincidence in international relations, considering Trump has been historically vocal about his love for Scotland, even if Scotland does not love him back. Charles’ invitation reads as a shifting of hierarchies, as if the monarchy is appealing for Trump’s favour – endorsed by the UK government. Considering Trump’s narcissistic tendencies, it’s clear that this is a diplomatic effort on behalf of the monarchy. In response to his visit to the White House, the Scottish Greens criticised Starmer for platforming this invitation to Scotland and have since issued a petition calling for Starmer to ‘Dump Trump’, which has so far garnered nearly 6000 signatures.
This leads me to the question: why does Trump love Scotland so much? As many people know, Trump’s mother was Scottish. If that wasn’t enough, Trump Golf’s website goes into extensive details to prove Trump’s Scottishness, listing every genealogical link they can cling to. The website presents the narrative of a small island, rags-to-riches story where Trump has worked his way up the ruthless corporate ladder. Note that there is no mention of class-based draft-dodging and the ‘small loan of a million dollars’ that gave him a step up, to put it lightly. Ironically, Trump’s ancestry shows his Scottish ancestors stayed firmly on the fence amidst the Jacobite Uprisings, allowing them to keep their land following the Battle of Culloden. Perhaps this legacy of pandering to the elite runs in the family.
For someone who so famously touts his environmentalism, Charles’ outstretched hand to Trump is a slap in the face to Scottish natural environments. Trump’s terrifying inaugural declaration of ‘drill baby drill’ should have been enough to send shivers down the royal spine. Instead, an invitation to Balmoral or Dumfries House – both conveniently located near Trump golf courses – is a stark reminder that Scottish soil was never high on the monarchy’s agenda. In 2020, Menie’s sand dunes lost their status as ‘nationally-important protected environment’ thanks to the devastating impact of the golf course, inflicted on the land against the will of the local residents. Trump has since painfully announced himself to be the ‘King of America’ – is he perhaps rendering Charles’ invitation as the start of a new royal boys club, with undemocratic ownership of Scottish land as a point of commonality?
Luckily, the Scottish people are not feart of showing oligarchs like Trump how they really feel. Scottish collectivisation in standing up against oppressive powers is not something new. For almost 2 decades, photographer Alicia Bruce has recorded Scottish villagers’ responses to Trump’s infringements on their land in Aberdeenshire. Trump’s desire to turn Scotland into his own personal golf course has consistently been refuted, with one man deftly stating: ‘He maybe thinks he could make things bonnier, but there’s nothing bonnier than nature.’ More recently, multiple people, including 2 pensioners, were arrested for spray-painting Trump’s Turnberry golf course, with ‘Gaza is not for sale’. Trump’s fascism has never been, and will never be welcome in Scotland.
The irony of Trump Turnberry referencing itself as the site of Robert the Bruce’s birth – the famously pro-Independence guardian of Scotland – and then being used as a meeting point for a right-wing oligarch and British monarch is not lost. Charles would do well to read the inscription on Robert the Bruce’s tomb: ‘A noble hart may have nane ease. Gif freedom faiyle’.
A noble heart cannot be at peace if freedom is lacking.
