Glasgow and historian Tom Devine – a match made in heaven
Version 0 of 1. When first I met Professor Tom Devine, around 15 years ago, he rendered me a quiet but profound kindness that I have never forgotten. The encounter must remain private, but it eloquently expressed something of him that hinted at humanity, generosity of spirit and humility. He was then already a celebrated historian and held in high esteem within Scotland's academic and cultural community. As yet, though, he was a few years away from attaining the rare status he now enjoys: that of being recognised well beyond the rarefied climes of his calling. Now he has become Professor Sir Tom Devine in recognition of a career and output unsurpassed in the recent narrative of our nation. Yet while a glance at his bibliography makes you dizzy with admiration, the bare numbers and mere titles alone do not do justice to the essential ingredients of his work as an author and teacher. His three great works, published in the past 15 years, are The Scottish Nation, Scotland's Empire and To the Ends of the Earth. Together, they form the most extensive and lucid narrative yet published about Scotland. To my mind, they have achieved two wondrous and largely unprecedented objectives. They have provided us Scots – and those who behold us with some curiosity – with a roadmap through the often ill-fitting materials that have constructed the country we know now. And they have helped the people who live in this thrawn, disputatious but bloody brilliant country to unravel our complicated and sinewy DNA. Actually, there is another welcome outcome from this man's sovereign output and that is the resultant fire he has enkindled in Scotland's belly to study our past and thus understand a little more about where we as a nation might be heading. Sir Tom's books though, unlike many other histories, are not literary sepulchres, where the dates and actions of kings and queens and soldiers and politicians go to die. They desire to be read and discussed by all his fellow citizens and they possess that humanity and generosity that characterised him on our first encounter. Many others, who know him much better than me, would agree. A few weeks ago, the professor and I found ourselves in one of those dark wine bars in the centre of Glasgow where women come to sip refulgent cocktails and bestow some glamour on the end of their ordinary working day. It is also a haven for some of the city's edgier male citizens as they seek respite from their unorthodox pursuits. Thus we encountered a friend of mine, well known in the neighbourhood and one whose profession may accurately be described as staying one step ahead of the law. As I fretted upon an appropriate introduction, it soon emerged that, each being a native of Lanarkshire, they were known to the other and had many friends in common. There may even have been a common blood tributary somewhere in their pasts. My renegade chum was aware of the professor's achievements and spoke of his pride that a fellow Lanarkshire man had brought fame to the county from which they each had sprung. Sir Tom was visibly moved. I could think of few other people of his renown who could have operated so comfortably on this turf. In a recent interview with Alan Taylor, editor of the Scottish Review of Books and published in the Sunday Herald, Sir Tom revealed that such was his disillusionment as a secondary school student with the teaching of history that he instead opted for geography. But the subject is "now much better taught, and much more imaginatively", he said. I feel sure, then, that he would have approved of my three history teachers, Gerry McGuire, Joe Erskine and Sister Dominic Savio, all of whom imparted a reverence and love for their subject that had a profound influence on me and many others. Sadly, they all taught at a time when not a single Scottish child was ever made aware of the history of their nation unless they gained sufficient grades to reach university – and then opted to study a subject that was often offered as the makeweight option on an MA degree course. It was a scurrilous state of affairs and one only recently rectified by Fiona Hyslop, when she was cabinet secretary for education, and by the work of Sir Tom Devine. In the Sunday Herald interview, Sir Tom also revealed that he has only 16% vision in his left eye following an optical procedure that may yet be the subject of litigation. He is also stepping down from his full-time job as senior research professor at the University of Edinburgh. I trust, though, that after an appropriate break the man will embark on another great work that needs to be written and is long overdue: a history of Glasgow, the city where he attended university, where he gained his first professorship and which, of course, defines him most. It is perplexing that no proper history exists of this, the most important city in Scotland and one of the most complex and vibrant in the world. Sir Tom, though, is the man to write such a book and perhaps in doing so he will succeed in unlocking the mystery of the "Glasgow effect". This is the curious and depressing social phenomenon that sees the city's citizens die significantly younger than those of Britain's other great industrial cities, despite similar indicators of deprivation. He would also bring to a history of Glasgow his humane analysis of the forces that move peoples, in order to bring us a broader understanding of the city's sectarian divide and, let's hope, skewer many of the loose and lazy solutions wrought by Scotland's supercilious and out-of-touch political classes. Perhaps, too, he would remind us and acquaint us with the foundations of Glasgow's greatness and the massive and unique human sacrifices that were undertaken to achieve this. In a certain light, it is possible to observe wisdom, warmth and some pain etched in the lines that gather around Sir Tom Devine's eyes. These are the same lines that are stitched into the fabric of the city whose history he was surely born to chronicle. |