Cameron is damned if he does and if he doesn't

Some of us have counted them out and counted them back in again. Westminster Tory leaders, that is, who seem to define their political relevance to Scotland, far less their political duty, solely in terms of an imperilled Union. Undercutting their own arguments somewhat, they have little else to say to Scots.

In these terms, "what we have in common" is a continuing crisis, and not much else. Even with a name worth flaunting, and with family roots to match, David Cameron is no different. Scotland in the 21st century, for him, is a tale of besmirched flags, ugly divorces, dark threats and atavistic forces. Despite the SNP's best efforts, these are not, in fact, all that we talk about.

Still, you couldn't accuse Mr Cameron of running away from an argument. It has become a Tory tradition. Margaret Thatcher did not duck the challenge. John Major atop his soap box - how we hacks mocked, forgetting to notice that he was winning a General Election - seemed genuinely impassioned. William Hague picked up the gauntlet at a cattle mart in the rain, I remember. Messrs Howard and Duncan-Smith also did their bit, when called upon.

Sometimes repetition is as useful as rhetoric. If they need it, and they do, the Tories can take credit for the fact that independence has yet to become Scotland's choice. But as Douglas Fraser reminded us yesterday, things are moving fast. To paraphrase the late Douglas Adams, several "impossible" things have already happened in Scotland. Labour is out and the SNP is in, for one thing. Unlike his predecessors, Mr Cameron can cry wolf sincerely. Alex Salmond might yet stain the Union flag indelibly.

That bit of language came from the Tory leader, speaking in Edinburgh on Monday, but it is a dialect, as this newspaper observed, that the Westminster opposition shares with the Westminster government. Separatism seeping and staining versus confidence, pride and unity: Gordon Brown woz here. There is, it seems, no all-purpose alliterative alternative to apocalypse. Nevertheless, the Scottish Labour Prime Minister has only a few modest contradictions to resolve. Mr Cameron's English party is positively neurotic.

The Conservative leader seemed to recognise as much on Monday. After all, how can he rescue the Union when so many in his party would be happy, as he more or less admitted, to be rid of the thing? Scottish Nationalism is a threat to Britain: it says so on the tin. But English Conservative opinion in parliament and the press, the voice of the movement Mr Cameron is supposed to lead, could turn out to be far more destructive. He can inveigh against it, but what does the leader propose to do about it?

Does he really want "English votes on English matters"? Now there would be the end to an old tune. The short-term political advantage would be considerable, but only until Westminster ceased to function. Besides, does none of the staunch Unionists ever notice how their language betrays them? The instant you cease to talk about British MPs you cease to talk about Britain. You recognise, if only unconsciously, distinction and division. You invite the conclusion you are supposed to be striving to avoid. Two words: why bother?

Mr Cameron probably has a case, too, when he talks about a need to reform funding formulae. The old Barnett-Goschen-Bob the Builder option certainly requires attention. But let's be honest: certain English Tories regard the entire public spending issue as little more than an excuse to poke Jockland with a stick. They understand the likely consequences, too, and they don't care. A British problem - the gravitational effects of London's economic mass - becomes an exercise in mere chauvinism. And they really, truly, don't care.

To make matters worse, Mr Cameron has to contend simultaneously with a Scottish party apparently keen on winning more powers, spending powers included, for Holyrood. Annabel Goldie has been an astute operator since the SNP formed a government. She has avoided the "partnership" trap that neutered the Scottish Liberals. She may see a need for an alternative to Mr Salmond's "national conversation". But why play the game according to Nationalist rules? Rule one: more autonomy, particularly economic autonomy, is the next best thing to independence.

Imagine the reaction of an English Tory nationalist, in any case, when he is roused from his slumbers. What? Give the Jocks more powers to decide how they spend our money? And this is our policy? Gosh - I'm struggling here to unite Boris Johnson with the English language - that's coming it a bit, surely?

It is, too, but it arises from a simple fact of life that has been brought home to Scottish Tories the hard way: they have to survive in Scotland. Their English colleagues have an entirely different perspective. Mr Cameron talks as though he has put Satan behind him, but some in his southern party are less resolute. Is he immune to temptation? If taken to the top of the metaphorical mountain and shown a green, pleasant land relieved of the burden of Scotland, would he resist? Tory all the way, forever and a day?

That's the bottom line. Some of Mr Cameron's English supporters are happy to think the unthinkable (only Tories can accomplish the logically impossible). For them there is an obvious positive benefit, politically and economically, in seeing the Union ended. They are, as Labour will insist, the SNP's best friends. That observation is of no help to Mr Cameron, the British patriot whose future depends on winning a Westminster election.

This is beyond devolution, obviously enough. Historians may mark it as the beginning-of-the-endgame. Fraternal visits from the south aside, Ms Goldie is already running a Scottish party obliged to deal with an existing reality. Nationalism - Mr Cameron was perfectly correct - rears its head on every side, but it appears in different guises and forms. Try this: the Scottish Conservative and Unionist Party is already a nationalist party in all but name. It has no choice.

Its English equivalent is nationalist, too, increasingly, simply because it has a choice. Scotland is not an economic drain on the south. The West Lothian Question is no more an affront to democracy at Westminster than the preponderance of Home Counties MPs, or the lack of proportional representation, or the decline of parliament itself. "English votes on English matters" do not matter, much, to English voters. These are symptoms, not causes.

So what does Mr Cameron do? He cannot both wrap himself in Gordon Brown's flag and tell us that Mr Brown has caused the problem. He cannot follow the instincts of his English party without impeding his Scottish colleagues, and vice versa. He cannot even rally silent majorities behind "a multi-ethnic, multi-faith and multi-national society". Taking comfort in diversity will sound the same, to many, as taking refuge in differences.

Mr Cameron could just accept that the game is up. I wouldn't hold my breath, though, not for the moment. Equally, this Tory leader could break with tradition and make a speech in Scotland no different from a speech he would deliver in London or Liverpool. That would have been the British thing to do, once upon a time. The time has gone.