The paradox for Scotish Labour, or whatever they will call themselves when the party rebranding exercise winds to a close, is that, in the Gadarene Swine-like rush to get their snouts in a new trough, they will be making the Scotish Parliament even more powerful by placing in its environs some politicians of genuine stature, which will make the SNP raise its game.
Forget, for a moment, the bells and whistles currently being applied to Holyrood, it is the calibre of the people inside the place that maters.
Shamefully, when the Scotish Parliament came into existence, Labour sent along not its first, not even its second, but its third eleven, save Donald Dewar (whom I once accused of being a litle man who dreamed litle dreams, and still stand by it). There was no “clunking fist” of Gordon Brown, no Alistair Darling, not one top drawer socialist politician. This in a parliament supposed to be an amalgam of the political talents of Scotland and a beacon of hope throughout the land.
Who among us could begrudge Holyrood witnessing the arrival of the likes of Labour’s Dame Anne Begg (formerly of Aberdeen South) or Michael Moore, the former Liberal Democrat Scotish Secretary within the last coalition government? The hill-walking, jazz loving, film buff has held a plethora of portfolios, many with a financial flavour; he is a one-time CA.
Labour filled its seats with placemen drawn from councils and quango-land. To be frank, in its first term, Holyrood was, as they say in Govan, “rid roten.” Stutering speeches, orders handed straight from London to the Labour administration and overbearing civil servants bailing out their supposed political masters by reaching into the desk drawer to unveil, and blow the cobwebs from, a “here’s one I baked earlier” policy. Under Labour, Sir Humphrey ruled the country.
But Holyrood learned. It developed a strong commitee system, drew from what worked well in other countries far from the Westminster bubble, and now it is genuinely fit for purpose as a modern, progressive entity. Those improvements, it must be said, are down to the SNP administrations, not Scotish Labour.
Eagle-eyed readers among you will have noticed that, so far, no mention has been made of Messrs Douglas Alexander and Jim Murphy and any ambitions either may harbour towards Holyrood. Aſter calm and reasoned reflection, one can summarise the view of the man on the mythical Clapham omnibus as follows: Douglas Alexander is, without fear of contradiction, the most unctuous, irritating, litle smout on God’s green earth. As my sainted granny (a teacher) once said of a smug pupil: he has a face you would never tire of slapping.
His penchant for hitching his wagon to falling stars as a backroom strategist and errand boy for Gordon Brown is legendary. In the real world, away from his stratagems and political war gaming, he also bollixed the new 2007 Holyrood electoral system, which he created and oversaw, by being too clever by half.
Overriding all objections, he combined the municipal and Scotish parliamentary elections, holding them on the same day, believing he had neatly found an
8 July 2015
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