Scotland

The saga of the SNP’s Hate Crime Bill is drawing to a conclusion. This week, Holyrood will cast a decisive vote on the embattled bill. Introduced just ten months ago, it seeks to consolidate existing hate crime laws and create new offences on the ‘stirring up of hatred’ against certain groups. These proposals would make ‘threatening or abusive’ behaviour which ‘stirs up hatred’ on the grounds of age, disability, religion, sexual orientation, transgender identity and variations in sex characteristics a criminal offence, punishable by up to seven years in prison, an unlimited fine or, for the extremely unfortunate, both. The proposals have proved highly controversial and understandably so. In our society,

Rishi Sunak’s budget appeared to offer some good news to Scots, not that the SNP saw it that way. An additional £1.2 billion in Barnett funding was handed over to Scotland’s government. This is on top of £9.7 billion in extra spending delivered over the past year for pandemic support. But the SNP Scottish government took a different view. ‘While I welcome some of the announcements today, it is clear the Chancellor has not matched Scotland’s ambition for economic recovery and supporting households,’ said Scottish Finance Secretary Kate Forbes. Forbes and her colleagues often point out that ‘Scotland’s ambition’ includes more borrowing powers. Throughout the pandemic, the SNP has been at

The campaign for a Scottish parliament was rooted in the notion of a ‘democratic deficit’. Scotland kept voting Labour but the UK kept getting Conservative governments. Devolution, so the logic ran, would give Scotland a more responsive government. Two decades on, a new democratic deficit is emerging: the chasm between the minimum accountability demanded by the parliament and the maximum Nicola Sturgeon’s government is prepared to give. A new establishment has taken root in Edinburgh, more powerful and less accountable than the old one. The Alex Salmond inquiry, which began as a recondite tale about a failed attempt by Sturgeon’s government to probe sexual misconduct claims against the former Scottish

The Alex Salmond inquiry is about far more than his allegations against Nicola Sturgeon and her government: it offers alarming insights into the extent and scope of political power in Scotland. In particular, the way in which the Crown Office, Scotland’s government prosecutors, pressured the devolved parliament into censoring Salmond’s evidence. It’s all the more worrying because the Lord Advocate, who runs the Crown Office, is a serving member of Sturgeon’s Cabinet. It was his turn to face that committee today. James Wolffe QC started by reminding them that they were dealing with someone above them. ‘The actions of the Crown are not within the remit of the committee’, he said in

When The Spectator went to High Court in Edinburgh to seek clarification over the Alex Salmond case, we did not act out of chumminess or a conviction that he was telling the truth. We are not natural allies of his. We are not sure if his explosive claims are correct, but we are sure that they should be scrutinised by a free press and free parliament.  Sturgeon’s allies were instead dealing with his allegations against her by seeking to stop Salmond’s full story ever being told. The SNP-led investigating committee had said it would not publish his submitted evidence – which, as they knew, would mean he would not appear in front of them. The pretext? That Salmond’s evidence somehow

Henry Kissinger’s sardonic appraisal of the Iran-Iraq War is increasingly applicable to the war between Alex Salmond and Nicola Sturgeon: it is a shame they can’t both lose. Disinterested observers, however, are under no obligation to pick a team. It is wholly possible neither protagonist has offered a convincing version of events. Treating Salmond’s claims sceptically imposes no requirement to swallow Sturgeon’s and, indeed, vice versa. Salmond’s allegations are so extraordinary they risk seeming incredible. It is one thing to allege that senior officials within the SNP – including but not limited to Peter Murrell, the party’s chief executive and Nicola Sturgeon’s husband – wished to destroy Salmond’s reputation. It

The most remarkable — and chilling — day in the history of Scottish devolution ends the only way it could: Alex Salmond has pulled out of an appearance before the Holyrood inquiry. The road to his withdrawal began on Monday evening with the publication of a key document in the long-running inquiry. The submission, in which Salmond alleges that Nicola Sturgeon broke the ministerial code, was uploaded to the Scottish parliament website ahead of an evidence session by Salmond on Wednesday. However, the Crown Office contacted Holyrood authorities and demanded they remove or redact the submissions. The parliament complied, replacing it with a further-redacted version. When The Spectator published this very document

It is now two years since Nicola Sturgeon accepted the need for a parliamentary inquiry into how, and why, her government’s investigation into Alex Salmond was so thoroughly tainted by apparent bias it was unlawful.   Ever since then, she has repeatedly promised that both she and her government will fully co-operate with the Holyrood committee — set up to investigate the Scottish government’s response to claims of sexual misconduct against her predecessor. Many hollow promises have been made in the still-short history of the Scottish parliament but few have been emptier than this.   It is necessary to insist upon what the committee is not investigating: it takes no view on

For anyone who assumes the SNP government’s secrecy and obstruction is limited to inquiries into itself and its past leaders, the fate of a major report into Scottish education is an instructive tale. Curriculum for Excellence (CfE), introduced in 2010, was the SNP’s grand idea for better learning in Scottish schools. Its ‘progressive’, ‘child-centred’ philosophy was contentious among teachers but was eagerly bought into by educationalists, educrats and teachers’ unions. Dissenters were generally caricatured as stuffy old reactionaries who wanted children bolted down in rows, facing a blackboard, as an authoritarian dominie catechised them in the rote memorising of formulae, dates and rules. Needless to say, the caricatures turned out

It’s hard to believe in these early weeks of 2021, when the country is grappling with an unprecedented national health and economic crisis, that anyone could contemplate willingly throwing into the mix a constitutional crisis. Issuing a clarion call to break apart, when it could not be clearer we need to pull together. Yet that appears to be the course on which the SNP Government in Edinburgh is set with its 11-point plan for independence. For the UK Government to reject a demand to hold any time soon another referendum on Scottish independence is not, as Nicola Sturgeon would have it, ‘a denial of democracy’; it’s plain common-sense and the

Earlier this week, the Scottish First Minister Nicola Sturgeon boasted that 99.9 per cent of older people in care homes had been vaccinated. An impressive figure, one that she deserves to boast about — providing, of course, she acknowledges the successful vaccine drive has been thanks to the whole United Kingdom.  Now though it seems the saintly Sturgeon has gone a step further — managing to vaccinate over 100 per cent of all care home residents.  Perhaps it might be worth the Edinburgh government updating their official metrics so they include a more accurate estimate. Truly the Scottish National Party’s glorious endeavours know no bounds…

Among the Scottish parliament’s many crucial roles, there is none more important than its ability to scrutinise government and hold it to account. The same is true of a free press. Both are at their best when they hold power to account on behalf of the public. But neither can do this essential duty when crucial documents are withheld during important inquiries. The Holyrood inquiry into the Scottish government’s handling of the Alex Salmond affair decided last week that it would not publish crucial submissions, including Mr Salmond’s, apparently on the basis that to do so would contravene reporting restrictions rightly introduced to protect the identity of complainants. We have