Kamala Harris strives for “freedom”, reminiscent of Braveheart

And then, pretty quickly, it's not. A few days ago, as I shuddered at the imperial platitudes in the second half of Kamala Harris' keynote speech at the Democratic National Convention, I was reminded of the bad taste Barack Obama's time in office left in my mouth.

One Friday he was at the White House celebrating “American creativity” with Herbie, Smokey and Stevie. Then the following Tuesday, somewhere else in the building, he was running his finger down a list of political assassinations carried out by drone in various locations in the Middle East.

So when candidate Harris plays this healing, communal soul music to her audience, there is a dissonant undertone to my ears, especially considering that her administration is heavily armed with American weapons and resources that enable Israeli forces' carnage in Gaza.

READ MORE: Edinburgh University asked to apologise after meeting with Israeli diplomats

I am thinking of the other presidential candidate, Cornel West, who spoke at the Gifford Lectures at the University of Edinburgh just a few months ago.

West claimed that the special excellence of the black music tradition is that it “turns the hurting into the healer.” This part of Kamala's “vibe” doesn't quite fit with the lack of a platform for Palestinian voices at the Democratic National Convention.

It also casts a shadow over what is otherwise seen as the Harris campaign's great achievement: their co-opting of the term “freedom” from Republicans. As Harris put it in her speech Thursday night, this is the freedom for women to control their bodies, the freedom to “live safe from gun violence,” the freedom to “love the person you love openly and with pride,” the freedom to “breathe clean air, drink clean water, and live free from the pollution that fuels the climate crisis.”

And above all, the “freedom to vote” (that is, the resistance to its suppression and gerrymandering). These messages are carried by Beyonce’s driving 2016 anthem “Freedom,” from the campaign ad to the conference room.

I've tracked down a few sources for this blatant rhetorical theft. First among them is Democratic pollster and consultant Anat Shenker-Osorio, who has spent the past few years urging American progressives to recognize the power of the term.

“Democracy is too abstract for people to get excited about. Freedom, on the other hand, is physical,” Anat said in a recent episode of the podcast “The Wilderness.”

“If you ask people what the most striking example of deprivation of liberty is, they will tell you it is imprisonment, chaining and immobilisation. It is something you can feel in your body. But what is democracy? Paint me a picture of it. It is just too nebulous.”

Shenker-Osorio further notes that polls show that all social groups associate “America” ​​with “freedom” – by far the leading option. Freedom is “a word that allows you to link issues together rather than having to have a separate story on each issue” – and that's exactly what Harris did recently.

“And it's a direct confrontation with what MAGA is doing, which is trying to take away our freedoms on every level and in every dimension.”

That last line may seem more intrusive than the usual triangulations and center-right alignment in American politics. And you're right. Anat has the ugliest word for it: mobisuasion (yes, a mix of mobilization and persuasion).

Political writer Anand Giridharadas explains it this way: “Mobisuasion is the theory that Democrats should not try to persuade by watering down their offerings to appeal to the middle, the moderates, the centrists, etc. Rather, they should try to 'animate the base to persuade the middle.'”

Giridharadas continues: “You mobilize your own people, your core voters, and offer them things that really excite them. And you trust that their enthusiasm will be contagious and create a contagion that will eventually spread to their more conservative relatives, neighbors and friends.”

READ MORE: Labour promised four times to cut energy bills

In her speech on Thursday, Harris translated that strategy into her mother's wisdom: “Never let anyone tell you who you are. Show them who you are.”

Giridharadas points out that this means political strategists must take rhetorical and cultural risks and not be afraid to seek emotional connection.

The Harris camp “wants to compete with the fascists for people's emotional lives… You have to take an organizer's approach to help people process a confusing age and the distortions of change. As well as the resentments that progress brings and the pain of capitalist exploitation.”

“The new style recognizes emotional labor as critical to political work. That's why Harris and Governor Tim Walz constantly talk about 'joy.' That's why the campaign has embraced the idea that vibrations, not just politics, are central.”

I am sure that an obvious comparison has occurred to you, dear reader. How does this American thinking about the meaning of “liberty” apply to the Scottish situation?

I'm also sure you know what comes next. “They may take our lives, but they will never take our freedom!”

Imaginative Democratic advisers like May told the Washington Post that “liberty exists in some ways within the body, whereas democracy is a more abstract idea.”

In Scotland, however, Braveheart provides the most important context for the term, and the film has often been condemned for reducing the desire for sovereignty to mere bodies – whether they are fighting or showing their butts, being raped, dismembered or thrown out of windows.

Independent-minded “progressives” in Scotland have fought long and hard against any simplistic association of independence with “freedom”. We were not colonised or made “unfree” by Westminster or Britain (let alone England). In fact, Scots must keep in mind their own historical role in enslavement and colonialism.

Thinkers such as Tom Nairn, Neal Ascherson and Gerry Hassan are always at pains to remind us that independence is, in truth, essentially the ‘freedom’ to set our terms of interdependence – Scotland’s involvement with the rest of the world and its requirements/opportunities.

There are, however, ways in which the Scots could reclaim the F-word. I like how Brazilian-American philosopher Roberto Unger talks about “deep freedom,” which comes from the connection between freedom and equality.

Superficial freedom is merely liberal – e.g. free markets/free speech. Superficial equality is the state regulating, taxing, or otherwise mitigating that liberalism. Together they form the “business as usual” of the modern age. And look where that has led us.

For Unger, deep equality is the poverty and leveling of communism. This leaves us with “deep freedom”. Why is it deep? Because it is not just about the liberal power to determine oneself – but also about the form of the institutions and organizations that support one's endeavors.

For Unger, this means a necessary and healthy spirit of experimentation in our society and economy. Deep freedom can mean the courage to try out new forms of collective action – in cooperatives, forms of communal living, the use of energy, the supply of food and health, the creation of cultural scenes.

These experiments might answer—and amplify—the empathic curiosity and mutual ambition that simmers at one end of our human nature (the non-fascist end, to be blunt). Perhaps they might be another route to the “joy” that Harris/Walz evoke?

The Scottish quest for profound freedom. What would that look like? What would this spring bring? What soundtrack do you listen to?