There are some issues burned deep into the soul of a nation. They’re invariably based on historical fact but are often added to by mythology. Handed down through generations, they become part of the collective history of the country and are the people’s story. No matter how historically accurate, they are potent and emotive. They can define how a people see themselves, even centuries on.

In America it’s the frontier spirit. Immigrants who arrived long after "the West was won” are affected by it. It defines political attitudes on the role of the state and even arguments on gun control. Whether your forefathers crossed the Great Plains or not it’s still a factor in identity and attitudes.

In Ireland it’s the Famine. A century and a half after the great hunger the people of Ireland and its emigrant sons and daughters still feel the pangs. Hence, Ireland gives more than almost any other nation to famine relief and it colours attitudes to Britain to this day.

In Scotland it’s land. The overwhelming majority of Scots live in the Central Belt. We are long separated from the land as a resource other than in our gardens and, aside from a few working in forestry or agriculture, as a place of employment. But the land still matters hugely. Even those whose forebears left for urban parts have a sense of the injustice of what they believe happened; in that they are no different to Americans with no cowboy blood or Irish people whose families didn’t starve. It’s often subconscious. It cannot be ignored even if aspects may not be historically accurate. The land issue runs deep in the Scottish soul.

The history of the Highland Clearances has been written about extensively by our great historians. Some aspects may be mythologised in the collective narrative. But they did happen, even if not to the extent many assume. Some of our people were shamefully removed from the land of their birth, where their people had lived for centuries before. However, as with emigration, far more removed voluntarily, for better prospects in towns and cities around the globe. But that collective narrative of suffering remains.

Moreover, in many instances, what had once been a common asset had become an individual’s private property. Scotland has huge tranches of its soil owned by a few, sometimes on a debatable historical basis as to its acquisition. For others, deep pockets mattered. Some who celebrate their titles and proclaim the size of their estates fail to declare how they acquired them, let alone offer any apology or atonement. It’s enough that it’s simply recorded in the Register of Sasines. The common people could thereafter simply be told to keep off, regardless of how long their families before them had lived there. Is it any wonder that Scots feel a collective wrong?

I’m no different to countless others. I live on the top floor of a tenement flat in the capital. But I recall my grandparents’ croft in the Western Isles that abutted some of the best salmon waters in Europe. They along with the rest of the village were denied access to the land and river they could see from their homes. The bitterness even amongst god-fearing folk was palpable. Many communities across Scotland suffered the same ignominy. For generations Scots were denied the right to even roam on the moors and hills of much of their homeland. The signs and fences that denied public access to what had been public space fuelled anger and resentment passed on to subsequent generations.

They were even taken abroad by emigrant Scots, as the story of John McKenzie narrates. He grew up near Alness and, though his family weren’t cleared, he witnessed the poverty and desperation of those who were. He emigrated to New Zealand where, in the 1890s, he became minister for land. At that time large land holders were in danger of taking over huge tracts of his new home country. Seared by what had befallen the land he’d left, he invoked a compulsory purchase scheme, credited with making New Zealand the land of small farmers it is today. He wanted all New Zealanders to be able to enjoy both the fruits of the land and access to it.

To be fair, much progress has been made by the Scottish Parliament. Great credit is due to the campaigners for change who brought it about. Moreover, unlike New Zealand in the 19th century, both European and national laws limit some actions of the Scottish Government. But much more remains to be done. The great American folk artiste Woody Guthrie sang: “This land is my land, this land is your land.” Sadly, in Scotland, that isn’t the case. So much is still held by so few yet we have little in the way of rights or say.

In this Scotland is not alone. Ownership of huge tracts of land in England and Ireland goes back to the Norman Conquest or other dubious assignations; as do parts of Scotland. Great English families and some of the Anglo Irish are descended from them and inherited their ill-gotten gains: the robber barons, as the late, great Tom Johnston called them. But, nowhere is it as stark as in this country. Huge expanses of our hills and glens are owned not just by those with little relationship to the land but who often don’t even live here.

Crofters and farmers, large and small, are rightly excluded from the criticism. The anger is aimed at those who own the vast estates that incorporate so much of Scotland and who run them as private shooting estates or simply another asset for their portfolio. Those working hard on crofts and farms, both large and small, often have a precarious existence and deserve our support. Some concerns of the National Farmers Union are perfectly understandable. Well-intentioned “townies” can cause havoc to those tilling the soil or nurturing the land. Some access does need to be regulated.

What’s done is done. The sins of centuries ago cannot be revoked even where acquisition was highly debatable. Time and property rights make some things immutable. Some of the estates do contribute significantly, in income and employment, in many marginal communities. However, some do not and it’s the local community that suffers. The proposed legislation to widen the ownership of land has been condemned by the representatives of some estates while aspersions of “Mugabe” style land grabs stick in the craw of ordinary Scots denied their inheritance. The continued restriction on local community rights and those of the wider Scottish public rubs salt in wounds inflicted many years ago. They are felt just as deeply today.

The Scottish public is entitled to know who owns our land; local communities should be able to acquire it when they can; and all of us must have greater access to the land. The Scottish Government needs to strain every sinew to deliver as much as possible. Scotland’s very soul cries out for it.