Scots out in force in Edinburgh as Nicola Sturgeon surges forth
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Version 0 of 1. “We can’t see you at the back,” someone yells as Nicola Sturgeon is mobbed on Leith Walk. A hundred supporters have gathered on an Edinburgh street for a ritual of elections up here: the unveiling of the last billboard of the campaign. But only a ring of fans around the Scottish National party leader can actually see the woman. She is short. This crowd hasn’t been invited. They’ve just turned up. This is the public. Kilts are few. Only one St Andrew’s flag is flying. A young man with a ginger beard has come dressed as Sturgeon, not as mockery but devotion. Buses and garbage trucks toot as they go by. The crowd cheers. I have never been in such a happy political mob. But it is cold staring down to the Firth of Forth. It would be the Scots, old-fashioned in so many ways, who still campaign outdoors. Sturgeon has moved only a few feet in five minutes. She is helping fans take selfies. When they fumble she plucks their phones from them and has the job done in a second. I’m told there isn’t one she can’t operate. She knows them all. Sturgeon is the absolutely prepared politician. “There we go,” she says. “Brilliant. How are you doing?” Children are brought forward to be touched. Pensioners queue to be hugged. The bearded boy in the frock shyly presents himself for approval. Even in that crush, a little force field protects her. She’s resolutely neat. When she’s not smiling her mouth is tough and prim. It’s breakfast time but Sturgeon is wearing heavy television make up. There’s a long day ahead for the most popular political leader in the UK. This corner of the city has been Labour forever but the polls show the area will be won next week by the SNP by a long, long way. It’s a shift so huge and so swift it still defies explanation. Perhaps Edinburgh is a little to blame; a city built like an imperial capital looking for a nation to rule. Is there any town in Europe with so many statues waiting to be torn down, so many streets to be renamed? How can proud Scots live with George, Hanover and union? But these people mobbing Sturgeon aren’t barracking for independence. For Scotland, but not independence. That their party is sweeping the country doesn’t mean they suddenly want to leave the United Kingdom. Polls show support for staying inside remains as strong as it was at the referendum. On Leith Walk they say what matters right now is the economy. If that’s fixed, Scotland can take another look at independence. It may have to wait no longer than the downfall of David Cameron’s government. “Oil has been discovered in the Shetlands,” I’m told. “It’s being kept a secret by the Tories.” The billboard is tame: tartan slipcovers on the empty green benches of the House of Commons and the words “more power for Scotland. Vote SNP.” But in Glasgow, Labour was waiting later that morning with something far worse. Everything about Jim Murphy’s little event in a car park on the Clyde had the cheerfulness of defeat. Party workers in red jackets with red balloons were all smiles. Murphy was bouncing on his toes. “There’s a week to go,” he announced as if this was news. “The sun’s out and there’s a huge amount of energy, a genuine amount of energy.” The sun went as he positioned himself in front of the billboard. Who thought this up? A street sign with two arms that point in no particular direction: the first to “Labour’s fairer economy” and the second to “another SNP referendum”. Murphy’s good humour is heroic. He refuses to clown for the cameras. “I could do a lot of things that would get me in the paper,” he observes. “I could sit on a tank and it would get me in the paper. I could feed you a scone and it would get me in the paper.” Labour party polling shows the Scots are not in the mood right now for another go at independence. So while Labour beats up fears for the union down south, Murphy is promising to save his people from a referendum he knows all but the diehards don’t want. It’s a straddle. “Let’s leave last year’s disagreement to one side,” he says. “And build a better Scotland.” He’s a goofy kind of guy, whippet fit, standing in the wind without a jacket. He must be freezing. Few men are called to face defeat on the scale he is facing. Even as his party pours resources into saving his seat, Murphy delivers his upbeat script: “I’ll confound the pundits, the critics and the bookies.” What’s happening in Scotland is one of the political puzzles of the age. No one has the answers yet. The data isn’t in. Every party is up for blame: the SNP for spinning dreams; the Conservatives for feeding Scotland’s resentment; and Labour for losing its old progressive faith. In Glasgow suburbs that were Labour’s territory until only a few months ago, Patrick Grady is leading a team of SNP canvassers. Old people live here in neat houses with gravel gardens. “Doors are no longer shut in our faces,” Grady says. “That’s definitely a change.” Even those who voted no in the referendum welcome Grady’s team. There are long conversations about potholes and disability services. “Let’s get what we were promised,” Grady tells them. “Stand up for Scotland.” “You can tell I’m English,” said Sue Cruikshank in Duncombe Street. “I voted no. I was a bit scared, a bit wary.” And she was swiftly disappointed. “They didn’t give us anything. All they’re worried about is what England’s getting.” Next week Cruikshank will vote SNP for the first time. Labour is not in despair. The wipeout in the north next Thursday will be terrible. But the SNP thieves who are taking their seats will not, Labour believes, deliver them to Cameron. Sometime on the other side of a messy constitutional battle, there will soon be a Labour government in Westminster. Even in the wreckage of Scotland, that’s a comfort. • This article was amended on 4 May 2015. An earlier version suggested that Leith voted yes in last year’s referendum on independence. In fact Edinburgh North and Leith voted decisively against independence. |