Edited by Frank R. Shaw, FSA Scot, Greater Atlanta, GA, USA
Email: jurascot@earthlink.net
An old friend and
contributor to our Robert Burns Lives! website is back with us today.
Once, while driving into Atlanta with my son Scott and me, Gerry
Carruthers referenced Robert Burns Lives! as RBL. It caught my son’s
attention and he called even more attention to it by saying we no longer
need to refer to it in that way because it had just become RBL. We three
chuckled and more and more I now hear that reference to our site. Gerry
is an honorary member of the Burns Club of Atlanta, having been voted
that rare honor when Ross Roy passed away a couple of years ago. He is
also known as Professor Carruthers but to those who know him well, he
will always be Gerry. He is a mover and shaker among Burnsians, teaching
us about Burns, pro and con. Forever popular on radio and television and
author of many books on Burns, Gerry is a man of deep humility, a man
among the people willing to engage in rhetorical jousting when needed.
Come armed for battle if that is the case or you shall appear naked when
the bout is over!
As part of the commemoration of the 250th anniversary of the birth of
Thomas Muir, the Friends of Thomas Muir are amid a series of events. On
23rd September 2015 at the invitation of Fiona McLeod MSP, the FOTM were
hosted at the Scottish Parliament at Holyrood in Edinburgh with music
from Rallion and music, theatre and a talk by the pupils of Douglas
Academy in Milngavie. The event took place in front of many MSPs, a
large public audience and also former First Minister of Scotland, the
Right Honorable Alex Salmond MP, who spoke to the event. Gerry
graciously shared the speech he delivered at this Parliament event and I
know you will find it as interesting as I did.
I joined the Friends of Thomas Muir when it was founded and I encourage
those of you who might be interested to do so also. For more information
about the FOTM and their 250 events, see:
http://www.thomasmuir.co.uk/friendsofthomasmuir.html (FRS: 10.1.15)
Thomas Muir
Uncompromising Hero or The Man Who had Poor Social Skills
‘Which side are you on?’
asks a classic American folk-song of the 1930s. And as listeners we all
think we know the answer. We know which side we are on. But if History
teaches us anything it is that we need people to appear periodically to
reboot this question. Thomas Muir is one of these people. Muir was a man
of conscience. He was also thrown out of, or at least found himself in
trouble with, ‘Which side are you on?’ asks a classic American folk-song
of the 1930s. And as almost every club to which he ever belonged. The
Church of Scotland, the University of Glasgow, the Faculty of Advocates;
in Paris, among fellow political exiles he even incurred the wrath of
Wolfe Tone, poster boy of 1790s Irish Republicanism. What are we to make
of such a pattern? Muir the uncompromising hero? Or, Muir the man who
had poor social skills? We might strongly suspect a bit of both.
Let us consider, briefly, his career as ‘churchman’, as ‘student’, as
‘lawyer’ as ‘political activist’ and, indeed, as revolutionary. I very
much like the new portrait of Thomas Muir as painted by Ken Currie, now
on display in East Dunbartonshire. It is entitled ‘The Trials of Thomas
Muir’, and in it, wounded and stripped to the waist Muir is iconic,
Christ-like. What is being referenced here is Muir’s deep faith as,
essentially, an ‘Auld Licht’ (or old light) Calvinist, a man who seemed
destined for the ministry. And even after turning his attention to legal
studies instead of divinity, Muir became an Elder of his local kirk in
Cadder. Eventually his interests in church and law came together as he
represented his parish, specifically the interests of the congregation
against the heritors, the local propertied classes in a dispute over the
appointment of the minister. Broadly, what this brings out is that Muir
was on the side of the ordinary parishioner and against patronage (where
these heritors claimed the right to appoint the minister). Much –
sometimes too much – is said about Thomas Muir and Robert Burns and
their supposed similarities. However, Burns was a ‘moderate’ churchman,
as the term then went, in favour of the supposedly better educated
heritors, property owners appointing the parish minister. Muir was not.
In 1789-91, Muir was also charged with representing the Presbytery of
Glasgow against Burns’s friend from Ayr, the Reverend William McGill.
McGill had written a pamphlet that was certainly ambiguous about Christ
being completely divine, and this appalled the auld lichts, including
Muir.
Two general points might be made here about our young elder, born in
1765 and only 24 when charged with the grave responsibility of speaking
for the conservative part of the Church of Scotland. Firstly, we should
notice the tenacity of his faith which is too often overlooked or
downplayed in modern accounts of Muir. He was driven by faith, as a
matter of historical diligence we should notice this driver of the man.
Muir seems, perhaps, at last on his way to becoming a new-minted, modern
Scottish icon; we have the Currie portrait, calls for a statue, a film,
a tee shirt(!); we are here in the Scottish parliament at the heart of
the nation’s democracy. But we shouldn’t forget Muir wasn’t just ‘all
about the politics’. Few of us are. Secondly, we ought to be aware that
Muir in his contretemps with others in the church was up against
‘modernizers’ in a sense (who wanted fewer rights for the people) – we
shouldn’t forget that this is sometimes what ‘modernizers’ do. Many of
these modernizers were men of the enlightenment and also lawyers, who
wanted patronage – as Robert Burns did – because they believed that
populist Calvinism was barring progress, was bigoted in some ways. These
enlightened people wanted a more liberal society. Now this is not the
place to go any further into the nuance of all this, but we should point
it out. People and History are complex things, not without paradox and
contradiction.
Muir had form before the McGill episode. He had chosen to exclude
himself from the University of Glasgow, before being expelled. This was
because he had become embroiled in student politics; specifically, Muir
was on the side of more openness in academic appointments, more student
power and greater accountability in institutional finances. Amid such
debates John Anderson professor at Glasgow, whom Muir largely followed
in his views went off to found another college in the city which would
become the University of Strathclyde. Muir himself, offered the chance
to apologise when the furore subsided, refused and went off to study at
the University of Edinburgh.
In Edinburgh, Muir’s Christian conscience was clearly struck as the
fledgling lawyer provided legal advice to those who could not afford it
for free. In Edinburgh too, Muir’s political sensibility further
developed. This had begun at the University of Glasgow under Professor
John Millar, a man who was in some ways an architect of our modern idea
of ‘civil rights’. In the Scottish capital, following the French
Revolution Muir became involved in the first Convention of the Delegates
of the Scottish Friends of the People. This was in late 1792. Most of
the ideas advanced here among the Friends of the People, we would think
fairly uncontroversial today, including universal manhood suffrage – the
vote for all men (not women) over a certain age and regardless of
property ownership, and more regular elections; in fact they discussed
the possibility, God help us, of annual general elections. In this
period, 1792-3, Muir was also as part of this movement spearheading
links with the United Irishmen, personally drafting fraternal greetings
to that organisation. Muir, then, was championing ‘democracy’,
generally, and the rights of Irishmen, both Presbyterian and Catholic,
who were discriminated against, who were second class citizens. We
should remember that ‘democrat’ (or indeed the word ‘citizen’) were very
much pejorative terms so far as much of the establishment was concerned
in the 1790s. It is the triumph of men like Muir in that time that today
these words are so positive in their connotations.
Muir could not help but be on the radar of the authorities, terrified as
they were at this time of mass political disorder on the scale of what
was happening not so far away in France. So it was that in 1793, having
been in London and Paris, communing with other reformers, Muir was
arrested and brought to Edinburgh for a trial beginning on 30th August.
Popular, sentimental myth has it that Robert Burns on this day and in
response wrote ‘Scots Wha Hae’. This is not true in terms of date, but
it is the case that the ‘tyranny’ Burns attacks in his song is not
simply about England and Scotland during the fourteenth-century wars of
independence, but about the political persecution of the 1790s. Muir was
charged with ‘sedition’, largely due to the fact that he had read Thomas
Paine’s The Rights of Man, which he had; and on the basis that he had
supposedly recommended such reading to weavers and artisans around the
Kirkintilloch/ Milton of Campsie area – which he hadn’t – or rather
witnesses (including the serving maid from his father’s house in
Huntershill) were bought, coached and told lies about his library book
recommendations. The ‘jury’ was packed with those who were against
political reform in any shape or form. And the judge Lord Braxfield,
officially at least maintained that the British constitution was already
‘perfect’. With ‘justice’ like this, Muir was doomed. He defended
himself, as well he might as a lawyer; except that also as a lawyer he
was wise enough to know that putting his own utterance so obviously on
display gave the Crown case against him more with which to work. I
think, in fact, Muir knew that this was a show-trial and offered himself
up as its inevitable scapegoat. In other words, he knew that justice
here was futile and that the best thing he could do was speak openly and
unguardedly knowing that the newspapers and posterity would provide
channels through which vindication might ultimately come.
Muir was transported to Botany Bay for 14 years, there after nearly two
years he walked on board an American commercial ship and had a series of
adventures in south and north America, had his face badly smashed in a
naval engagement as he travelled back to Europe and settled in Paris. By
now, Muir had become fully radicalised and wanted all out invasion of
Britain by the French, which successfully completed, would have seen
England, Ireland and Scotland turned into three republics. The fervour
of Muir’s mind also seems to have repelled Wolfe Tone, as I’ve mentioned
already. He died in France, half a decade shy of his 40th birthday,
never returning to Scotland.
So, which side are you on with Muir? It is a heroic story, he is in many
ways an admirable man, but one or two bits of what I’ve just narrated
might not make everyone here feel entirely comfortable. That’s okay,
that’s democracy. Muir deserves his celebrated place as an apostle of
democracy. But I’d suggest that democracy, openness to different
opinions, is what should Muir at his best should best be remembered for.
There are in Scotland, at the present moment, political interests
determined to make Muir their own. That’s okay. People claim cultural,
historical things. People contest ownership of these things too. That’s
the way it goes. But we should be very careful. Muir was a man of the
people and people are not all the same. That is what democracy is for.

Gerard Carruthers, Francis Hutcheson Professor of Scottish Literature
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