There is a very good reason why Gordon Brown will hesitate, and may finally balk, at calling a snap election. It’s the state of his own backyard.
The divided politics of Britain could not be more dramatically revealed than by the latest opinion poll in Scotland. It suggests that Labour is now 16 points behind the Scottish National Party; the single percentage point that separated them at the election in May has been swamped by a psephological tsunami; it renders almost meaningless the recent UK polls that give Labour a 12-point lead over the Tories, because in Scotland the party is struggling to keep its head above water.
Yet Mr Brown needs most, if not all, of those 39 Labour-held seats at Westminster if he is to win. On present evidence he might not get them. What on earth has happened?
The answer may be dispiriting for the Prime Minister, but it is good news for anyone interested in the democratic process: politics has got a lot more interesting. Whereas in England Mr Brown has been enjoying his bounce, in Scotland Alex Salmond has leapt. Yesterday, the First Minister of what he is pleased to call the Scottish “Government” (he doesn’t use the word Executive any more) published a White Paper setting out his proposals for a referendum on independence. It proposed a national “conversation” – the Scots word would be “flyting,” the nearest thing we get to an animated disagreement – aimed at converting the doubters and winning more powers for the Scottish Parliament.
Next week Mr Salmond celebrates 100 days in power. These two events are intimately connected. Both show evidence of overweening self-confidence. For a leader who is attempting to shore up a minority government and facing an opposition united in hostility towards almost all his flagship policies, Mr Salmond demonstrates a sang-froid that is positively Napoleonic.
He has handled matters inside and outside the Scottish Parliament with great skill and unexpected diplomacy. He has deployed words such as “consensus,” and phrases such as “common purpose.” He has flattered his opponents (his flirtation with the matronly Annabel Goldie, leader of the Scottish Conservatives, is almost embarrassing to watch) and he has played well to the chattering classes (known in Scotland, more familiarly, as the “blethering” classes). Last week, for instance, he summoned a selected audience from the media world to announce plans to take greater control of broadcasting. Most would have been sceptical at best about the idea, but by the end, entranced by his vision of a culturally liberated nation, they were eating out of his hand.
He has accepted, without rancour, the odd defeat in Parliament, while at the same time introducing some fairly radical changes that either require no vote at Holyrood, or command widespread support – abolishing bridge tolls, reducing ferry charges, doing away with prescription charges for the chronically sick and cancelling graduate endowment taxes for students. All of these have the added advantage of emphasising, subtlely, the differences between Scotland and England. At the same time, Mr Salmond has spoken up with great eloquence for the national interest on trips abroad, and been photographed shaking hands in statesmanlike style with his opposite numbers such as Ian Paisley, Martin McGuinness – and even Mr Brown.
Almost imperceptibly, he has moved his tanks on to the centre ground which was once considered Labour’s by right; and though he has failed so far to convert Scots voters to the discreet charms of independence, there is growing evidence that they are pleased with what he has achieved. They like his style, they think he talks a good game, and they no longer have to be ashamed of the performance of the Scottish Parliament. If he goes on like this, they might well begin to look more kindly on his ideas for a referendum on Scotland’s future. Some at least of his opponents argue that if it is to be done, then ’twere well it were done quickly. Lord Forsyth of Drumlean, from the Right, and David Martin, MEP, from the Left, believe that the sooner a referendum is held, the sooner we can all be put out of our agony.
But Mr Salmond – like Mr Brown – has more to prove before he has made his case with the majority of the Scottish electorate. He needs to govern Scotland, not just seduce it. He has four years ahead of him to demonstrate whether he can turn round a slow-moving economy, tackle the country’s appalling health statistics, improve schools, maintain higher education standards and deliver all those mundane manifesto commitments that all governments, sooner or later, have to do. Until then, the jury will remain out.
The success of the Nationalist cause so far contains an important political message, one that was articulated more than 200 years ago by Edmund Burke. “A state without the means of some change is without the means of its conservation,” he wrote. He meant the French Revolution, of course, but it applies as well to events rather closer to home. The opposition parties in Scotland now find themselves saddled with a fatal image – that of defenders of the status quo – and they have begun to realise that this is not a popular cause. Mr Salmond, by contrast, is able to offer the prospect of change. It need not, he argues, be threatening change, indeed it can progress gently and gradually towards a goal that will be good for the nation, good for our economy and good even for our souls. Burke also wrote: “Ambition can creep as well soar.” In the case of Scotland right now we have independence creep. No wonder Mr Brown is staying his hand.
Magnus Linklater