Why Cameron's Scotland plan has rattled the SNP

The PM has called Salmond's bluff by demanding an independence referendum sooner rather than later.

Ever since the Scottish National Party's remarkable victory last May, Westminster has been in a state of shock, unsure how to proceed. But now, finally, David Cameron, determined not be remembered as the man who lost the Union, has resolved on a course of action. He will allow the SNP to stage its own binding referendum on independence on the condition that it is held in the next 18 months (any referendum after this date will be advisory, as it would always would have been) and that it offers a straight yes/no question on Scottish secession.

Cameron's move upsets Salmond's plans in several respects. The First Minister has long intended to hold a referendum in the second half of the Scottish parliament, perhaps in 2014 on the 700th anniversary of the Battle of Bannockburn, when he believes that discontent with the Tory-led government will be at its height. In addition, he planned for the ballot paper to feature two questions, one on independence and one on full fiscal autonomy or "devolution max". Aware that there may not be a majority for the former, the SNP leader is eyeing the consolation prize of "devo max", a stepping stone to full independence. But Cameron is determined to deny Salmond these two advantages. To add authority to his stance, he will publish a consultation paper later this week revealing legal advice that the referendum will only be binding if both parliaments agree to its timing and wording.

There is, of course, a risk that all this could backfire. Cameron's intervention could be seen as an attempt by the Tories - not a popular breed in Scotland - to hijack a referendum that the SNP has an electoral mandate to hold. It was an argument made at length by Nicola Sturgeon, Salmond's deputy, on the Today programme this morning. But, as she conceded, there is a potential contradiction in the SNP's stance. It maintains both that Cameron has no right to dictate the terms of the referendum and that his move will backfire. But if Cameron's move will backfire why is the Scottish government so opposed to it? The answer, as Sturgeon will not say, is that the SNP is not convinced there will be a majority for independence in the next 18 months (or ever) and, consequently, is determined to reserve the option of devolution max. Yes, some Scottish voters will resent Cameron's intervention but others will ask, "why doesn't Salmond want an early referendum? What's the big feartie afraid of?"

Set against this must be the disorganisation of the pro-Union side (who will lead the No campaign?) but Cameron has called Salmond's bluff and the initiative, for the first time in months, is with him.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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Theresa May’s stage-managed election campaign keeps the public at bay

Jeremy Corbyn’s approach may be chaotic, but at least it’s more authentic.

The worst part about running an election campaign for a politician? Having to meet the general public. Those ordinary folk can be a tricky lot, with their lack of regard for being on-message, and their pesky real-life concerns.

But it looks like Theresa May has decided to avoid this inconvenience altogether during this snap general election campaign, as it turns out her visit to Leeds last night was so stage-managed that she barely had to face the public.

Accusations have been whizzing around online that at a campaign event at the Shine building in Leeds, the Prime Minister spoke to a room full of guests invited by the party, rather than local people or people who work in the building’s office space.

The Telegraph’s Chris Hope tweeted a picture of the room in which May was addressing her audience yesterday evening a little before 7pm. He pointed out that, being in Leeds, she was in “Labour territory”:

But a few locals who spied this picture online claimed that the audience did not look like who you’d expect to see congregated at Shine – a grade II-listed Victorian school that has been renovated into a community project housing office space and meeting rooms.

“Ask why she didn’t meet any of the people at the business who work in that beautiful building. Everyone there was an invite-only Tory,” tweeted Rik Kendell, a Leeds-based developer and designer who says he works in the Shine building. “She didn’t arrive until we’d all left for the day. Everyone in the building past 6pm was invite-only . . . They seemed to seek out the most clinical corner for their PR photos. Such a beautiful building to work in.”

Other tweeters also found the snapshot jarring:

Shine’s founders have pointed out that they didn’t host or invite Theresa May – rather the party hired out the space for a private event: “All visitors pay for meeting space in Shine and we do not seek out, bid for, or otherwise host any political parties,” wrote managing director Dawn O'Keefe. The guestlist was not down to Shine, but to the Tory party.

The audience consisted of journalists and around 150 Tory activists, according to the Guardian. This was instead of employees from the 16 offices housed in the building. I have asked the Conservative Party for clarification of who was in the audience and whether it was invite-only and am awaiting its response.

Jeremy Corbyn accused May of “hiding from the public”, and local Labour MP Richard Burgon commented that, “like a medieval monarch, she simply briefly relocated her travelling court of admirers to town and then moved on without so much as a nod to the people she considers to be her lowly subjects”.

But it doesn’t look like the Tories’ painstaking stage-management is a fool-proof plan. Having uniform audiences of the party faithful on the campaign trail seems to be confusing the Prime Minister somewhat. During a visit to a (rather sparsely populated) factory in Clay Cross, Derbyshire, yesterday, she appeared to forget where exactly on the campaign trail she was:

The management of Corbyn’s campaign has also resulted in gaffes – but for opposite reasons. A slightly more chaotic approach has led to him facing the wrong way, with his back to the cameras.

Corbyn’s blunder is born out of his instinct to address the crowd rather than the cameras – May’s problem is the other way round. Both, however, seem far more comfortable talking to the party faithful, even if they are venturing out of safe seat territory.

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.

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