The view from Scotland: Still hanging on the telephone

Despite the silence from London, Alex Salmond is getting to grips with his fiefdom.

The number to dial is 0131 556 8400. That reaches the Scottish Executive, where Alex Salmond, the Scottish First Minister, awaits a call.

Diplomatic protocol requires that the PM offer his congratulations on the election of other government leaders. Tony Blair did so for Nicolas Sarkozy in the passable French that he learned at Fettes College. Just across Scotland's capital from his alma mater, the phone isn't ringing. This isn't protocol, but the politics of the playground. Although Blair met Colonel Gaddafi and brokered peace between Ian Paisley and Martin McGuinness, the Scottish Nationalists are supposed to be content with a call from Douglas Alexander.

Perhaps the Westminster leadership limbo leaves it unclear who has to do the dirty work of dealing with a Nationalist leader whom the PM and his successor loathe. Perhaps they think that if they ignore him, he might go away. But the best guess at the reason for Labour's behaviour is that the party is in denial.

Labour had a better result than most feared, down by only four seats. Yet warning Scots that a vote for the SNP would have consequences akin to biblical famine and pestilence did not stop the Nationalists gaining 20 seats, ending on a knife edge of 47 to Labour's 46. With the Tories and Lib Dems abstaining, a couple of Green votes were enough to ensure that Labour's Jack McConnell was tipped out of office, handing the Nats power for the first time in their 73-year history.

The evidence of denial was led by Philip Gould, who last month offered NS readers his curious reading of the campaign as "Labour at its best". He came north to repeat this to MSPs, telling them how proud they should be. From Westminster, it may seem that the loss of power on the Celtic fringe, with Welsh Labour holding on to office with little power in Cardiff, is an unfortunate consequence of midterm blues: from Holyrood, it is a calamity. Ten years ago, Labour won 56 out of 72 Scottish seats at Westminster. At Holyrood, 37 Labour constituency MSPs remain and many more have turned marginal. Under a new voting system, the party lost a third of its councillors and now has majority control of just two councils.

Now, disbelievingly, Labour faces four years in opposition and has some hard questions to answer. Why did Scots think they were being taken for granted? What has the party delivered for the bleak town centres it represents, from Brown's Kirkcaldy to McConnell's Wishaw? How did it lose its role as the political vehicle for change, aspiration and Scottish identity?

Lovestruck teenager

Midterm blues can take some of the blame for the loss of power. Brown can blame McConnell. McConnell can blame Brown. Both can blame Blair. Or they could take comfort from how Labour's vote did not collapse and the SNP victory margin was eye-wateringly tight.

Labour's biggest danger is that it will believe its own spin and ignore the need to renew itself and its hollowed-out organisation, or to purge the numpties - the dead wood, underperformers and time-servers who control tiny local party machines - from the ranks of its MSPs and MPs.

The lack of a call from No 10 doesn't look good for Salmond, either. Looking miffed as he waits by the phone, he seems less like a wannabe statesman than a lovestruck teenager. But, for all that he is 18 seats short of a working Holyrood majority, he has set quite a pace for his new administration.

Much of this was set out in mid-March, when a 49-item, "first 100 days" strategy was published, ranging across big-budget commitments for freezing council tax, more police, nurses and teachers and free prescriptions; a start to legislation on waiting-time guarantees; writing off and replacing student debt; and direct elections for health boards. This was coupled with easy bits, from appointing a council of economic advisers to declaring a two-month winter festival from St Andrew's Day to Burns Night. So far there has been a slimmed-down ministerial team, a block on new nuclear power, publication of a long-suppressed report into government spending, a call for Scotland to have its own Olympic team and abolition of Forth Bridge tolls.

Being a canny sort, Salmond is positioning each proposal to make it hard for his opponents to vote against. He is also holding back on the tricky parts. He has not yet set about introducing a local income tax or replacing public-private partnerships with an arm's-length agency issuing bonds. And he has yet to admit to his own party that the Holyrood arithmetic means they won't get their independence referendum any time soon.

He has signalled the fights he wants to pick with Downing Street, including a claim on some welfare budgets and a share of North Sea oil revenue. That is where the Salmondista revolution is being watched with most interest, but it may prove hard to press for more powers or cash if Downing Street won't even speak to him.

Douglas Fraser is Scottish political editor of the Herald

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View from Paisley: How the Conservatives are wooing Labour's Scottish heartlands

Not so long ago, Conservative activists in Paisley could expect doors slammed in their faces. A referendum has changed that.

Tony Lawler, a Labour activist, was recently knocking on doors in the Scottish town of Paisley, when he came across a disgruntled resident. “I’m really disappointed in Douglas Alexander,” the potential voter complained. “I haven’t seen him. He used to be in Morrisons.”

Douglas Alexander, of course, has gone. He was the longstanding Labour MP and onetime International Development secretary who lost his seat in 2015 to a 20-year-old rival, the Scottish National Party’s Mhairi Black. He does not plan to stand again. But when I visit Paisley, a short train ride from Glasgow, I find that memories of him linger on. 

Two years after Alexander’s defeat, I meet Lawler and other local Labour activists in Morrisons, where Alexander used to hold his surgeries. As checkouts beep and trolley wheels roll over linoleum, they point to an empty table in the corner of this hallowed ground: “He used to sit just there.”

In 2015, the SNP’s victory in this former manufacturing town seemed to epitomise the earthquake in Scottish politics. But as the Labour activists know too well, no political fortress is undefeatable. And in Paisley, the home of one of the oldest workers’ festivals in the world, the party with the most to gain is one that previously never dared to canvass in the high street – the Conservative party. 

The town the Brexiteers forgot

In 1988, the historian Sylvia Clarke reflected on Paisley’s lost industries, wondering what was next for the former weaving towns. “Paisley as a tourist centre?” she wondered, in Paisley: A History. “Paisley as a place for visitors to come to, rather than a send-out of goods and emigrants?” 

For all Paisley’s industrial decline, it’s a pretty place. The town is in the running for the 2021 City of Culture, and has the second biggest number of listed buildings after Edinburgh. When I visit in the middle of April, blossom floats on the trees, and a river meanders through a neighbourhood of old, stone houses. It takes a moment to notice weeds tightening their grasp on the window frames. When I try the door of the ancient Paisley Abbey, it’s locked.

Perhaps if Paisley had been located the other side of the border, in Sunderland or Northumbria, it would be voting Leave and flirting with Ukip. But in the most deprived areas here, Labour activists tell me the EU referendum tally was still almost 50-50, and overall the town voted Remain.

There is a view that Brexit is an English concern. “We haven’t picked up anything about the EU referendum,” says Lawler of his doorstep conversations. “What people are talking about is the independence referendum, Jeremy Corbyn and the kids’ ward.” Scotland’s health secretary, Shona Robison, is due to make a decision on whether the specialist ward should be moved to a large hospital in the First Minister’s Glasgow constituency, against the wishes of many Paisley residents. The hospital in question is nicknamed “the Death Star”.  

Another concern, reminiscent of small towns across the UK, is the decline of the high street. When I walk down the historical shopping area Causeyside Street, I find mother and daughter Kate and Linda Hancy packing up what remains of The Pattern Café and Gift Shop. The wallpaper is a glorious Paisley print, but the scented candles are in boxes and a spray soap bottle hangs from a chair. After two years of trying, they are closing down.  

“People just don’t have money to spend,” Kate says. “A lot of people have been on the same wage for more than five years.”

Linda chimes in: “The cost of living going up but wages aren’t the same. I work in a supermarket, and people come in and say ‘How did I spend this much money?’ A lot of people are paying by credit cards.”

The Hancys voted to remain in the UK, and the EU. Although they knew Alexander, they have never met Mhairi Black, and feel devolution, if anything, has made politicians less accountable. “Why are we picking 1,2,3,4,” demands Kate, referring to Holyrood's voting system, which rejected first past the post. “Why can’t we pick one like we used to?”

Without the EU to blame, the most obvious culprits for Paisley town centre’s decline are the out-of-town shopping centres, where cinemas are opening just as historical ones in town close their doors.

Gavin Simpson, owner of Feel the Groove, a new record shop, remembers the 1980s, when a new release would have shoppers queuing round the block. However, he believes the town is over the worst. (As we speak, a customer comes in to reserve such a record and cheerfully warns Gavin that “even if I ask for my money back, don’t give it to me.”)

One thriving business is the longstanding butchers, Wm Phelps. Manager James Peacock tells me it is down to the trustworthy Scottish produce, which is carefully tracked and labelled. But the business has also embraced globalisation.  After noticing a large number of South African customers, Peacock began selling boerewors and biltong.

The other referendum campaign

If Paisley has been spared the divisions of the EU referendum campaign, its “buddies” – as residents are known – are still reeling with the repercussions of an earlier referendum, that on Scotland in the UK. In 2014, the town voted for independence, although the county overall opted to stay in the UK. 

The town is home to a particularly brash strain of indyreffers, including the “Smith Commission burners”, three SNP councillors who gathered in front of the council headquarters to burn a copy of the report setting out new powers for Scotland. One of them, Mags MacLaren, went on to manage Black’s constituency office.

But if the Paisley independence movement has been well covered, less is known about its opposite - the rise of pro-unionism. 

Of the three mainstream parties opposed to independence, it is the Scottish Conservatives, with their unconventional leader Ruth Davidson, who have most effectively capitalised on the pro-union message. In the 2016 Scottish Parliament elections, the Tory Jackson Carlaw captured the West of Scotland constituency of Eastwood, which had been held by Labour since its creation. 

In Holyrood, the Scottish Tories benefit from proportional representation, which allows voters to choose a constituency MSP but also rank parties. 

According to Paul Masterton, the Tory candidate for East Renfrewshire, and the secretary of the Renfrewshire and Inverclyde Scottish Conservative Association, the Conservatives are now getting huge numbers of first preference votes, including in neighbourhoods like the suburb of Ralston, where both Black and Masterton are from. So who are these voters? Masterton describes them as “New Labour voters who were happy with Tony Blair and Gordon Brown but didn’t like Jeremy Corbyn and get tied up into knots by [Scottish Labour leader] Kezia Dugdale flipflopping on the union stance".

The 2016 election saw the Scottish Conservatives surge to second place in Scotland – a superb comeback for a party once ridiculed as being rarer than pandas. The next electoral test is the local council elections. In Paisley, even Labour activists acknowledged the Conservatives were likely to be the most notable winners.

“For a long time we simply didn’t go out in Paisley," says Masterton. "We were written off and we allowed ourselves to be written off.”

But the referendum has changed this. “What I found was that last May, people weren’t shutting the door in your face," he adds. "Once you started the conversation they were far more receptive to that.” 

Like the Labour activists, Masterton argues that the constitutional question matters more than Brexit. “When Theresa May said ‘now is not the time’, I think a lot of people across Paisley did a small quiet fist pump,” he says of a second independence referendum.  

Ironically, after the early election is called, the Scottish Conservatives do everything they can to mention the prospect. “Don't mention the 'i' word,” crows a recent press release about the “SNP indyref ban”. Davidson tweets: “Nicola doesn't want to stand on her record. She knows the country doesn't want her #indyref2.” A Panelbase survey commissioned by The Sunday Times Scotland published shortly after the early election was announced finds support for the Conservatives at Scotland at 33 per cent, 18 percentage points higher than in 2015. 

What you stand for

For now, Paisley remains a Scottish National Party stronghold. George Adams, the MSP with an office off the high street, proves elusive – Labour activists confirm his reputation as a hardworking local. Black’s aide turns down my request for an interview for similar reasons, but I bump into her that evening at a protest against cutting child tax credits in Glasgow’s George Square.

Black, an admirer of the left-wing Labour figure Tony Benn, once said she feels "it is the Labour party that left me". I ask her if she, like her Labour predecessor, holds surgeries in supermarkets. Black says she’d considered it, but given the sensitivity of some of the issues, such as benefit problems, she thought her constituents might appreciate a more private space. “The main thing that crosses the door in my offices is Universal Credit changes,” she explains. She says she has raised her concerns about the children’s ward.

As for the independence debate, she argues that the Scottish government have been “incredibly compromising” since Brexit, but adds: “A lot of folk want another chance at the question.”

Black is standing for re-election. With a majority of more than 5,000, and neither of her previous challengers in the running, she’s likely to keep her seat, even if buddies' discontent over local issues rumbles on. 

Still, as I have discovered, the 2014 referendum continues to reverberate in towns like Paisley. It has divided friends and neighbours on constitutional lines, galvanised new strains of politics, and brought a Labour heavyweight crashing down, with no appetite to return. 

The Tories believe their unionist message is enough to flip seats like East Renfrewshire, once Conservative, then Labour, and now an SNP marginal. As the SNP's shine wears off, could Paisley, with its long tradition of the left, one day follow? It no longer feels implausible. “The one thing about the Scottish Conservatives - and this is true whatever you like us or not,” says Masterton. “You know what we stand for.”

 

Julia Rampen is the digital news editor of the New Statesman (previously editor of The Staggers, The New Statesman's online rolling politics blog). She has also been deputy editor at Mirror Money Online and has worked as a financial journalist for several trade magazines. 

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