Alison Rowat: Dear Scotland, what's your problem with Sir Billy?

This method is known as the SBC, or Sir Billy Connolly, approach. Whenever the comedian says anything, however seemingly innocuous or inconsequential, about the land of his birth you can guarantee that all heck will break loose within Scotland, and among those who claim attachment to it, within two seconds. Connolly speaks, balloon goes up: two seconds max. Pavlov’s dugs are giddy slackers in comparison.

Sir Billy Connolly: I dislike people who write England off because they're Scottish

The cause this time was a Radio Times interview about a programme he has made on the painter Stanley Spencer. You can see it on Sky Arts next Tuesday. Connolly was asked why, as a Scotsman, he had chosen the Cookham-born Spencer as his subject. Given Connolly’s own time in the shipyards, he could have linked it to Spencer’s paintings set on the Clyde during the Second World War and left it there. But where would be the fun in that?

Instead, Connolly described himself as “the least patriotic man in the world”, adding for good measure: “I do love Scotland, but if the love for your country is all you have, you’re in a desperate state. I dislike people that write England off because they’re Scottish. It’s unfair and brutal.”

He built the stage for a rammy, and they came. Connolly’s stance on Scottish independence had been “treacherous” said one commenter on The Herald’s story. Others described him variously as “an establishment fraud”; a “loyal court jester”; “yesterday’s man”; a “London Jock”; a “purveyor of dirty jokes”. “Some of us remember where he started from,” said someone in a variation of “Ah kent his faither”. Then there was perhaps the greatest insult of all: “He was never funny anyway.” One would like to think that SNP MP Pete Wishart, who has not had his troubles with the Twitterati to seek lately, is dropping Sir Billy a note of commiseration and solidarity.

Sir Billy Connolly: I dislike people who write England off because they're Scottish

You can guarantee the same to and fro about Connolly took place in many a Scottish workplace, pub, and on sofas across the land. Just what is Scotland’s big problem with the Big Yin?

He is, after all, a great success story. Born on the floor of a room and kitchen in Partick, he had more than his share of childhood horrors. From the shipyards he went into music before turning full-time to comedy. Decades of global success followed, riches, houses, famous pals, the lot. His work for charity alone, much of it unheralded, merits local hero status. But still, the pelters come. Connolly touches a nerve in us. Could it be that in him we see some unwelcome home truths about Scotland and ourselves?

Even if that is the case, at this point in our history such things can and should be viewed differently.

Take, for instance, his moving away from Scotland. In this he seemed to personify the old Johnsonian jibe about the the noblest prospect a Scotsman ever sees being the high road that leads him to England.

But Scots have been going out into the world for centuries. There is no shame in wanting to see the world and a lot to be gained. In any case, a nationalist Scotland can be internationalist too.

But what about those friendships with the royals? That court jester stuff, my friend the prince. That could be seen as the epitome of the Scottish cringe at work. Or it could be the opposite of the cringe, an example of self-confidence. Why should he not keep company with royals? Do we not want every Scottish child to grow up thinking they are as good as anyone else?

As for being a sellout, another frequently raised bugbear about Connolly, his comedy did more to expose some of the realities of life in certain parts of Scotland than any number of academic treatises. He was funny about it, the coats on the bed in damp, freezing houses, the casual violence of adults towards children, but there was genuine anger there as well.

Sir Billy Connolly: I dislike people who write England off because they're Scottish

His was not the shortbread tin version of Scottishness, all sweetness and light for the tourists. Long before Trainspotting’s Renton made plain his view of being Scottish (clue: it rhymes with might, bright, light, etc), Connolly was expressing the same doubt. His truth-telling about old, Labour-governed Scotland did not hinder the SNP cause. It may even have helped it. Fancy that.

Which leads us to the next oft heard criticism, perhaps the greatest one: that in his dislike of nationalism and patriotism, even in his living outside Scotland, Connolly is not “one of us”, a real Scot.

According to this argument, he cannot love Scotland and believe in its potential the way someone who supports independence does. Indeed, in being against such things he is actively anti-Scottish, with all the quotes to prove it. Didn’t he call Holyrood a wee pretendy parliament? He did, but the push for more powers by SNP MSPs has been to a great extent built on the same opinion.

Sir Billy Connolly: I dislike people who write England off because they're Scottish

Connolly has said loudly and often that he loves Scotland. He has also said that being Scottish is just one part of him and his life. He loves his country, but he is ambivalent towards it. As the Scottish independence referendum and subsequent never ending debate has shown, Connolly is not alone in his mixed feelings. If you were to sum up such a stance towards a country you might reach for that catch-all Americanism, “It’s complicated”. Sometime it is.

The more those in favour of independence fail to recognise this, the less likely it is they will convert others to their cause. Billy Connolly is not the enemy, never was. He is but one voice among many, no more, no less, with the same right to his views as anyone else. When Scotland can be at home with that notion it might finally be at peace with itself and what kind of country it wants to be.