What happens to Scottish MPs in May 2015 after an independence vote?

The Tories and the conservative media would revolt against a Labour government dependent on Scottish MPs for its majority.

With just eight months to go until the vote and the polls narrowing, the Scottish independence referendum (an issue the NS has covered in detail for years) is finally receiving the attention it deserves. The FT has run an excellent series on the subject this week and the Spectator (another title that has long followed the issue) devotes its cover this week to the danger of a victory for the nationalists. 

One overlooked question raised by former Tory MSP Brian Monteith on ConservativeHome today is that of the status of Westminster's 59 Scottish MPs following a Yes vote in September. The current assumption on all sides is that they will be elected as usual in May 2015 before leaving the Commons after the post-referendum negotiations conclude and Scotland becomes an officially independent country (24 March 2016 is the date slated by the SNP, just in time for the Scottish Parliamentary election on 5 May 2016).

But it is easy to see, as Monteith writes, how this could create a "constitutional crisis the like of which has never been seen". The Tories and the right-wing media would revolt against a Labour (or Labour-Lib Dem) government dependent on Scottish MPs for its majority after May 2015, denouncing it as an illegitimate imposition on the rest of the UK. Conservative peer Howard Flight has already suggested that they should stand down at the election in the event of an independence vote; many others in his party are likely to take the same view. Ed Miliband, meanwhile, could face the prospect of losing his majority just 10 months after he becomes prime minister. 

Then there is the question of whether the 59 Scots should be allowed to take part in Westminster votes. Would it be acceptable for them to pass laws governing a country that they will soon no longer belong to? (It is, essentially, the West Lothian question in a more extreme form.)

There are no easy answers to these questions but just to pose them is a reminder of how Scottish independence would leave Westminster in entirely uncharted territory. 

Ed Miliband with Alistair Darling at the Labour conference in 2010. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

Photo: Getty
Show Hide image

Goodbye, Sam Allardyce: a grim portrait of national service

In being brought down by a newspaper sting, the former England manager joins a hall of infamy. 

It took the best part of 17 years for Glenn Hoddle’s reputation to recover from losing the England job.

Between leaving his job as manager in February 1999 and re-surfacing as a television pundit on ITV during the 2014 World Cup, Hoddle was English football’s great pariah. Thanks to his belief in faith healer Eileen Drewery and a string of unconventional and unacceptable views on reincarnation, he found himself in exile following in a newspaper interview during qualification for England’s Euro 2000 campaign.

But just as Hoddle is now cautiously being welcomed back to the bosom of English football, current incumbent Sam Allardyce has felt the axe fall. After less than two months in charge of the national side and with only a single game under his belt, the former Bolton Wanderers manager was caught up in a sting operation by the Daily Telegraph — allegedly offering guidance on how to circumvent his employer’s rules on third-party player ownership.

The rewards for guiding an English team to major international success promise to be spectacular. As a result, the price for any failure — either moral or performance-related — is extreme.

Hoddle’s successor – the endearing Kevin Keegan – resigned tearfully in a toilet at Wembley after a tumultuous 18-month spell in charge. His replacement, the laconic Sven-Göran Eriksson, provided moments of on-field excitement paired with incredible incidents of personal indiscretion. His tangle with "fake sheikh" Mazher Mahmood in the run up to the 2006 World Cup – an incident with haunting parallels to Allardyce’s current predicament – led to a mutual separation that summer.

Steve McClaren was hapless, if also incredibly unfortunate, and was dispatched from the top job in little over a year. Fabio Capello – who inspired so much optimism throughout his first two years in charge – proved himself incapable of lifting the hex on English major tournament fortunes.

The Italian’s star was falling from the moment he put his name to the oddly timed Capello Index in 2010, although his sustained backing of then captain John Terry over a string of personal misdemeanours would prove to be the misjudgement that ultimately forced his exit. As Allardyce has found out, the FA has become increasingly hard on lapses in moral judgement.

English football is suffused with a strange mix of entitlement and crushing self-doubt. After a decade that has given us a Wimbledon champion, several Ashes triumphs, two Tour de France winners and eye-watering Olympic success, a breakthrough in this area has never felt further away.

In replacing Capello, Roy Hodgson — the man mocked by Allardyce during his hours supping pints with Telegraph reporters — had hoped to put a rubber stamp on a highly respectable coaching career with a spell managing his own country. But this summer’s farcical defeat to Iceland at Euro 2016 put his previous career in a much harsher light.    

Allardyce was a mix of the best and worst of each of his predecessors. He was as gaffe-prone as Steve McClaren, yet as committed to football science and innovation as Hodgson or Capello. He also carried the affability of Keegan and the bulldog spirit of Terry Venables — the last man to make great strides for England at a major tournament.  

And as a result, his fall is the most heartbreaking of the lot. The unfairly decried charlatan of modern football is the same man who built a deeply underrated dynasty at Bolton before keeping Blackburn, West Ham and Sunderland afloat in the most competitive league in Europe.

And it was this hard apprenticeship that convinced the FA to defy the trendy naysayers and appoint him.

“I think we make mistakes when we are down here and our spirit has to come back and learn,” Hoddle mused at the beginning of his ill-fated 1999 interview. As the FA and Allardyce consider their exit strategy from this latest sorry mess, it’s difficult to be sure what either party will have learned.

The FA, desperately short of options could theoretically turn again to a reborn Hoddle. Allardyce, on the other hand, faces his own long exile. 

You can follow Cameron on Twitter here.