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GRAHAM GRANT: The Ghost of Christmas Future and a vision of Holyrood that would have left you cowering under the bedcovers... Click here to visit the Scotland home page for the latest news and sport By GRAHAM GRANT SCOTTISH HOME AFFAIRS EDITOR FOR THE SCOTTISH DAILY MAIL Published: 21:05, 23 December 2024 | Updated: 21:06, 23 December 2024 e-mail View comments Back in 1996, Scotland was on the verge of major constitutional change in the form of a devolved parliament. We didn’t know it for a certainty, of course, but Labour under Tony Blair ’s leadership had pledged to legislate for it in his first year in office. The Tory Government was mired in sleaze and heading for the abyss, so it was a reasonable bet that a referendum might be on the horizon. Cast your mind back to that faraway time and imagine the Ghost of Christmas Future materialising in your bedroom on December 24, 1996. You’ll have to imagine appropriate sound effects as the spectre conjures a vision of what was to come in the event that Scots voted ‘yes’ to devolution, as they eventually did, in September 1997. We’re a long way from Charles Dickens here, admittedly, but stick with it as the ghoul goes on to show you what we’ve all lived through since those heady days. To start, you see Donald Dewar making grand promises about sharing power with the people – and doing things differently from the Commons. The father of devolution died in October 2000, aged 63, but even then it was clear that most of those bold commitments were unlikely to be fulfilled. A visit from the Ghost of Christmas Future in 1996 might have persuaded you that devolution wasn’t such a good idea after all, says Graham Grant In September 1999, you would discern the glint of metal from the spectre’s swirling mists as the 129 new MSPs were handed commemorative medals designed and produced by the Royal Mint at a cost of more than £7,000 – setting the tone for the sense of entitlement to come. An enormous, grotesque building rears up in front of you – the parliament’s home at the end of the Royal Mile. Its original projected cost was £50million but the ghost tells you that it soared to more than £400million – and you have to assume from its deadly serious expression and intonation that it’s not joking. Cowering under your bedsheets, you watch as the ghost hits fast forward on the Labour years – skipping through some unremarkable scenes of Jack (now Lord) McConnell’s plodding managerialism. Now a familiar face materialises – that of a triumphant Alex Salmond in 2007 as his party emerges as the winner of the Holyrood election, by the narrowest of margins. What follows is a montage of key moments from the next seven years as the new regime dedicates itself to the only mission the SNP has ever cared about – wrenching Scotland out of the United Kingdom. The years between 2007 and 2011 unspool in a blur of confusing images and before you know it, we’re in 2011 – and the SNP achieves what was supposedly more or less an electoral impossibility by winning a majority of seats at Holyrood. The ghost’s booming baritone imparts that within a few years, thanks to a reckless gamble by the Prime Minister of the day, a referendum would take place on independence. By now, you’re probably watching the spectre’s tableaux through your fingers, desperate to know what happened – but equally apprehensive about the result. Filling in the context, the ghost shows you the rallies, marches, and the toxic division which ensued as families fell out, perhaps never to be reconciled, while social media degenerated into perpetual mudslinging – with the occasional death threat thrown in for good measure. Mr Salmond reappears in the back of a car, a picture of despondency after the Yes camp’s failure, one that it refused to acknowledge for the next decade. Many of its members never will. A face that wouldn’t mean much to you back in the 1990s swims into view, and for much of the rest of the apparition’s spine-chilling presentation Nicola Sturgeon is the star of the show. The sense of promise sours as the years go by – and rapturous fans begin to realise that their new leader is all talk and no action. Bute House press conferences are hastily convened to announce another referendum – but nothing ever comes of them. A procession of Nationalist powerbrokers attempts to rewrite history by rubbishing their own claim that the independence vote was a ‘once in a generation’ opportunity. It is painfully obvious from the spirit’s vision that much time is wasted on re-fighting a battle that was lost years before, as newspaper headlines spell out the consequences of constitutional distraction – from spiralling drug deaths to failing public services. There’s an inexplicable scene of a ferry with painted-on windows and what looks to be a fake funnel, but the ghost is anxious to move on. Mr Salmond appears again, this time in the dock of a court facing multiple allegations of sexual offences, of which he’s cleared. But the party is plunged into civil war and psychodrama that continue to the present day – even after the former First Minister’s death in October. Ms Sturgeon is seen behind a podium, imploring people to wash their hands, but the image doesn’t linger – as there is much yet to tell. The ghost summarises the debacle over transgender legislation which was blocked by the UK Government after another period of tribalism during which critics were marginalised, sidelined or demonised. In March 2023, Ms Sturgeon resigns and within days her husband Peter Murrell, then the SNP’s chief executive, is arrested as part of a police fraud probe into the SNP’s finances – and is later charged with embezzlement. There are images of a forensic tent outside a smart suburban home, and a camper van, but by this time the ghost is growing impatient and offers only a cursory but troubling explanation. You are introduced to Ms Sturgeon’s successor, whose name means nothing to you back in the 1990s, but the ghost offers only one scene – a man tumbling to the floor from a knee scooter, which it says aptly sums up his doomed premiership. Then there’s a man you’re told is Health Secretary who tried to rip off the taxpayer with an £11,000 bill for something called an iPad. His successor and some of his colleagues used ministerial limos to transport themselves and their family members to football matches, and even a cinema, despite offering no credible reason for taking an official car. There are far too many controversies for the spirit to outline in detail, but a bleak picture is painted of a country languishing in the doldrums as it labours under punitive taxes which do nothing to reverse the downward spiral of the NHS and a once-proud education system. It’s more than possible that by now you’re hiding under the covers and begging the ghoul to retreat into the shadows, leaving you in peace. But it goes on to show you the assortment of placemen and lobby-fodder MSPs who have failed at every turn to hold the SNP to account. There’s only one conclusion – devolution would be hijacked by obsessives, making a mockery of the boasts that Holyrood would offer a bright new future. The spirit is wrapping up, thankfully, and you reflect that maybe voting yes to devolution isn’t such a good idea – and that the status quo, for all its faults, might be good enough after all. The Royal Mint Labour SNP Alex Salmond Share or comment on this article: GRAHAM GRANT: The Ghost of Christmas Future and a vision of Holyrood that would have left you cowering under the bedcovers... e-mail Add comment
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