Is the Scottish public really opposed to nuclear weapons?

A new poll by Lord Ashcroft contradicts previous findings and shows that more than half of Scots believe Trident should be replaced.

That the Scottish public is opposed to British retention of nuclear weapons, not least due to their location on the Clyde, has long been regarded as one of the safest assumptions of the independence debate. A recent poll by Scottish CND found that 60 per cent of Scots oppose "the UK Government buying a new nuclear weapons system to replace Trident", with only 14 per cent in favour. Unilateral disarmament, it seems, remains one of Alex Salmond's strongest cards. 

But a new survey by Lord Ashcroft, the Tory donor turned prolific pollster, suggests a more complex picture. It found that more than half of Scots believe Trident should be replaced, either with an equally powerful system (20 per cent) or a cheaper but less powerful system (31 per cent). How to explain the discrepancy? In his commentary on ConservativeHome, Ashcroft points out that, unlike his survey, Scottish CND's poll failed to mention that Trident was coming to "the end of its useful life", creating the misleading impression that the UK government "wanted to spend billions on new nukes just for the hell of it." He also criticises the group's use of the figure £65bn, which includes the running costs for thirty years, a number three times greater than "the true replacement figure". This seems reasonable; polls asking how much the government should spend on the NHS or schools typically cite the annual cost, not the lifetime one. (Although to add to the complexity, the poll also found that only 37 per cent support the UK having nuclear weapons "in principle", with 48 per cent opposed.)

To further test Scottish public opinion, Ashcroft asked a question including the replacement figure ("The cost of replacing Trident has been estimated at £20 to £25 billion pounds, and, just to be sure no one would miss it, underlined it too), but found it made no significant difference to the outcome. In fact, the number of Scots in favour of replacing Trident marginally increases to 53 per cent, with 24 per cent supporting an equally powerful system and 29 per cent supporting a less powerful one.

By a slim majority, Scots also believe that Trident should continue to be based in Scotland (43-39 per cent) and, even in the event of independence, only half say that Britain should not be able to continue leasing the Faslane naval base. 

This morning, the SNP has responded by stating that it is "extremely confident that a majority of people in Scotland want to get rid of Trident nuclear weapons" and by accusing Ashcroft of displaying exactly the bias he complains of. "His question only included the procurement cost of a Trident replacement, when independent research shows that its lifetime costs will be nearly £100 billion," the party notes. 

But regardless of the SNP's objections, the poll shows how malleable public opinion is. Ashcroft's survey didn't (but could have) mentioned the jobs currently dependent on Trident (520), and the Better Together campaign certainly will. Whichever side succeeds in getting its figures accepted as the "true" or most significant ones is likely to triumph in this debate. 

The Trident Nuclear Submarine, HMS Victorious, on patrol off the west coast of Scotland. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

Getty
Show Hide image

Inside a shaken city: "I just want to be anywhere that’s not Manchester”

The morning after the bombing of the Manchester Arena has left the city's residents jumpy.

On Tuesday morning, the streets in Manchester city centre were eerily silent.

The commuter hub of Victoria Station - which backs onto the arena - was closed as police combed the area for clues, and despite Mayor Andy Burnham’s line of "business as usual", it looked like people were staying away.

Manchester Arena is the second largest indoor concert venue in Europe. With a capacity crowd of 18,000, on Monday night the venue was packed with young people from around the country - at least 22 of whom will never come home. At around 10.33pm, a suicide bomber detonated his device near the exit. Among the dead was an eight-year-old girl. Many more victims remain in hospital. 

Those Mancunians who were not alerted by the sirens woke to the news of their city's worst terrorist attack. Still, as the day went on, the city’s hubbub soon returned and, by lunchtime, there were shoppers and workers milling around Exchange Square and the town hall.

Tourists snapped images of the Albert Square building in the sunshine, and some even asked police for photographs like any other day.

But throughout the morning there were rumours and speculation about further incidents - the Arndale Centre was closed for a period after 11.40am while swathes of police descended, shutting off the main city centre thoroughfare of Market Street.

Corporation Street - closed off at Exchange Square - was at the centre of the city’s IRA blast. A postbox which survived the 1996 bombing stood in the foreground while officers stood guard, police tape fluttering around cordoned-off spaces.

It’s true that the streets of Manchester have known horror before, but not like this.

I spoke to students Beth and Melissa who were in the bustling centre when they saw people running from two different directions.

They vanished and ducked into River Island, when an alert came over the tannoy, and a staff member herded them through the back door onto the street.

“There were so many police stood outside the Arndale, it was so frightening,” Melissa told me.

“We thought it will be fine, it’ll be safe after last night. There were police everywhere walking in, and we felt like it would be fine.”

Beth said that they had planned a day of shopping, and weren’t put off by the attack.

“We heard about the arena this morning but we decided to come into the city, we were watching it all these morning, but you can’t let this stop you.”

They remembered the 1996 Arndale bombing, but added: “we were too young to really understand”.

And even now they’re older, they still did not really understand what had happened to the city.

“Theres nowhere to go, where’s safe? I just want to go home,” Melissa said. “I just want to be anywhere that’s not Manchester.”

Manchester has seen this sort of thing before - but so long ago that the stunned city dwellers are at a loss. In a city which feels under siege, no one is quite sure how anyone can keep us safe from an unknown threat

“We saw armed police on the streets - there were loads just then," Melissa said. "I trust them to keep us safe.”

But other observers were less comforted by the sign of firearms.

Ben, who I encountered standing outside an office block on Corporation Street watching the police, was not too forthcoming, except to say “They don’t know what they’re looking for, do they?” as I passed.

The spirit of the city is often invoked, and ahead of a vigil tonight in Albert Square, there will be solidarity and strength from the capital of the North.

But the community values which Mancunians hold dear are shaken to the core by what has happened here.

0800 7318496