GLASGOW, Scotland — A referendum on Scottish independence that was once expected to collapse in resounding defeat was instead going down to the wire Wednesday, with each side scouring lush Highland ridges, Gothic back alleys and rocky coasts, seeking any advantage on the eve of a vote that could divide this island after three centuries of union.
The referendum has transfixed Scotland’s 5.3 million people, and analysts predict an extraordinary 90 percent of eligible voters Thursday to answer a simple but sweeping question: “Should Scotland be an independent country?”
As much as the vote will turn on attitudes toward Scottish nationalism, it also will be a verdict on a group nowhere to be seen on the ballot: British politicians.
“It’s not that I’m against the English,” said Karen McGurk, an out-of-work mother of two who lives in state-subsidized housing on the south side of Glasgow. “But the politicians in London have behaved absolutely shockingly. They’re only for the rich.”
McGurk said she’s a firm “yes” voter, as are most of her neighbors on a block of modest red-sandstone houses that mixes working-class native Scots with South Asian immigrants. In another era, the area might have lined up behind the Labour Party’s call to vote “no” — a position that has been joined by Britain’s two other biggest parties.
But residents said they were relishing the chance to give the political establishment, Labour included, a kick in the teeth — even if it meant killing Great Britain in the process.
The anger has many roots: a seemingly unending stream of foreign wars, a financial crisis that accelerated an already widening gap between rich and poor and an insular and privileged British political class that seems to only look after its own.
“Ten years ago, I couldn’t have imagined Scottish independence. But you have this extremely complacent leadership just taking people for granted across the country,” said Jamie Drever, 37, who has never been involved in a campaign before but was out knocking on doors to spread the gospel of independence in Glasgow this week. “They’ve inherited these grand old buildings and are harking back to a Britain that no longer exists. But the reality tells us that the British economy is in the toilet.”
The sour mood has offered “yes” advocates a golden opportunity.
Alex Salmond, the tart-tongued Scottish independence leader whose working-class origins set him apart from the privileged clique that dominates politics in London, has deflected questions about Scotland’s viability by reminding voters of their antipathy for the heirs to Disraeli, Gladstone and Churchill.
In the campaign’s closing days, Salmond has cast voters’ choice as one between “Team Scotland” and “Team Westminster” — the latter a reference to the palace in which London politicians ply their trade.
The three major British party leaders hustled up to Scotland last week after polls showed the referendum had slipped into a dead heat after months of comfortable leads for “no.” Salmond mocked them for caring more about their reputations than they do about Scotland.
“What Team Westminster seem to be concerned about is their own jobs,” he said.
The United States has been reluctant to speak out on the referendum, mindful of its own history of breaking free from London.
But U.S. officials worry that a “yes” vote could leave Washington’s closest ally distracted for years during negotiations with Scotland on the divorce, which would not become official until 2016.
Those talks would include the fate of Britain’s nuclear weapons — north of the border on submarines based at a Scottish port — as well as Scotland’s desire to use the pound, its share of North Sea oil revenues and the future of the BBC.
Numbers
4.2 million
Scots who have registered to vote in the referendum, 97 percent of those eligible
