NUCLEAR weapons, those instruments of Armageddon, were introduced to Scotland by the words: "Dear Harold". After all, the Cold War threat of mutually assured destruction was no reason to dispense with a little courtesy. So, on 27 October, 1960 president Eisenhower, wrote a charming letter to Harold Macmillan, the prime minister, thanking him for the generous use of the Holy Loch as an extension of US territory and a safe berth for nuclear bombs.
After an introduction that, but for the eagle crest on the headed notepaper, could have brought an invitation to tea, the president of the United States continued: "I am delighted that agreement has been reached on the proposed berthing facilities fo
r our Polaris tender in the Clyde area. I deeply appreciate your splendid co-operation in making a tender site available at Holy Loch which our Navy considers most satisfactory for their purpose."
The purpose, of course, was to slip as swiftly and conveniently as possible into the north Atlantic, which for the next 30 years became a silent battleground where US submarines played cat and mouse games with their Soviet counterparts at depths of 1,600 feet. The decision to hand over the Holy Loch to the Americans was in order to secure their agreement to sell the Polaris nuclear delivery system, which then allowed the Royal Navy to operate its own nuclear submarine fleet from neighbouring Faslane.
Yet the reaction of Scots to the news that their nation had now been painted red and sat at the heart of a bull's eye target at which Soviet inter-continental ballistic missiles were suddenly aimed, was a mixture of outraged opposition and quiet acquiescence. If the majority of Scots simply shrugged their shoulders, a small but motivated minority created a blueprint of direct action that future generations in distant nations would then follow.
The Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND) was formed in 1958 in protest at Britain's nuclear testing and was inspired by essays written by Bertrand Russell and JB Priestly on the immorality of such destructive weapons.
The Scottish Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (SCND) immediately demanded the removal of nuclear deterrent from Scottish lochs and, together, with the highly motivated Direct Action Against Nuclear Weapons (DAC) decided to greet the arrival of the USS Proteus, the American's first nuclear submarine at Holy Loch, with a 1,000-strong march on the base from Dunoon.
Ten days later the group doubled their numbers to 2,000, while on 20 March a small group of protesters attempted to board US boats. The following day their target was the piers used by the submarine crews. It was the first in what would become a long tradition of direct political protest.
"The presence of nuclear weapons in Scotland was definitely a spark that helped the counter-culture here," said Professor Richard Findlay, author of Modern Scotland. "Scotland wasn't the capital of the Swinging Sixties, but this helped."
By comparison, the local business community in Dunoon welcomed the arrival of the American navy - even if a number of local lads were uncomfortable about the naval crew's competition for their girlfriends' affections.
In Scotland the protests against nuclear weapons united a disparate range of people including a strong Christian element. Not, however, strong enough for Roger Gray, an optician from Skye. In 1965 he wrote: "I have long been convinced that if the world Church, with its vast potential and its peculiar access to the power of the holy spirit had been in the vanguard of the peace movement, already the possibility of nuclear annihilation would be as almost remote as a return to cannibalism."
Yet the political consequence of housing nuclear weapons was mixed. According to Brian P Jamieson, who edited a collection of essays, Scotland and the Cold War, the absence of conflict in which the population was engaged allowed a great period of political thought. He wrote: "Without actual warfare, that binding force which rallied nations was partially eroded, thus allowing greater contemplation... the Cold War could be described as a period of self-reflection for Scotland."
Winnie Ewing, however, used the imminent deployment of British Polaris nuclear submarines to the Gare Loch, as a stick to beat off Labour and become the first SNP candidate elected as a Member of Parliament. The first Resolution class submarine went on patrol the following year on the 15 June, 1968, and not a single second has passed by since without a British nuclear submarine on active patrol in deep and, at times, distant waters.
It took the decision by Margaret Thatcher to purchase Trident as an eventual replacement for Polaris in 1980 to re-ignite the debate, swell the membership of SCND and lead to the creation of the Faslane Peace Camp, set up by Margaret and Bobby Harrison, veteran protesters, who first pitched their tent in June 1982.
As Mrs Harrison said on the 20th anniversary of the camp, which would grow to include campervans, and, at one point, had separate sections for anarchists and socialists : "It was magic at the beginning. There was just a handful of us. When we pitched the tent I had no plans to stay. I was 64 and wasn't tough enough to live in a tent with no water and a lot of midges, but Bobby, who was 67, was a much better camper."
The peace camp then became a rite of passage for a new generation of politicians. While George Galloway and Tommy Sheridan remained true to their CND roots and considered any visit to Faslane which did not end with their arrest and forcible removal while displaying a two-fingered peace sign to be a disappointment, others such as the First Minister Jack McConnell, who once marched with a banner which read: "Trident is Immoral" decided that, actually, it isn't.
It is today's acceptance of nuclear weapons that disturbs Kenneth McNeil, 81, a retired teacher, who first joined Scottish CND back in 1958 and marched on those inaugural protests in May, 1961. "Back then there was a genuine anxiety that we might all be destroyed in a nuclear holocaust, today nobody believes that. I don't understand why if we accept that chemical or biological weapons are unacceptable that nuclear weapons are. I'm frightened that we'll miss the opportunity to get rid of them, and that they'll be hanging around in Scotland for decades to come."
ALWAYS PREPARED
THE Trident system was bought by Margaret Thatcher's government as a replacement for the Polaris submarine system and, since the first Vanguard-class submarine went out on patrol in 1994, there has always been at least one submarine at sea with a payload of up to 16 Trident D5 missiles and 48 nuclear warheads.
There are three elements to the deterrent system:
• The submarines. Britain has four Vanguard-class nuclear-powered submarines, capable of patrolling for up to three months at a time. They were designed with an operational life of 25 years, although the MoD says that can be extended for a further five years.
The first submarine in the class was launched in 1992 and falls due for replacement in 2022 - the second boat is due to retire in 2024. At that point, it will no longer be possible to maintain the continuous at-sea cycle of patrols unless there is a replacement in place. The MoD estimates a new submarine will take 17 years to design and build which is why it says decisions are needed now. The government is planning to acquire four new submarines, at a cost of £15 billion to £20 billion.
• The missiles. Britain has acquired 58 Trident D5 ballistic missiles from the US, having turned down the option to buy an additional seven. As a result of test-firings, it now holds fewer than 50 and ministers say they do not believe it will be necessary to procure any more. The government is planning to join a US life-extension programme for the missiles, which will keep them operational until the 2040s.
• The warheads. The nuclear warheads are designed and built at the Atomic Weapons Establishment at Aldermaston, although they are thought to closely resemble the US design with which they share some common components. The MoD says no decision on replacing the warheads is needed until the 2020s. The government has promised to cut its stockpile by a fifth from about 200 to 160.
