Scotland

How Brand Scotland conquered America

In his highly entertaining history of alcohol and the British, Empire of Booze, Henry Jeffreys observed how one effect of the Napoleonic Wars was to make Scotland a popular destination for English holiday makers. What with the continent being isolated and everything, there weren’t many more exotic places for the richer, more adventurous traveler to visit. I’m a huge admirer of how the Scots put national identity to its most benevolent and noble purpose: using it to milk wealthy Americans of their money The country was until then largely unknown to many people south of the border, something also true of its trademark drink.

In praise of Peter Murrell

When people ask me what my politics are, I have to explain that I support a dwindling faction you might call the Terry-Thomas wing of the Conservative party. This faction dominated the party in the 1980s – the kind of spivvy garagiste who, no sooner was your back turned, would knock down a row of medieval cottages to open a Hyundai dealership. There were probably a few too many of them in the 1980s. Today we need them back. Shakespeare depicts this archetype very well, possibly because (as a Brummie entrepreneur) he was one himself. He understood that you need a few chancers around to make things happen. Where are they now? I raise this point because, while we know that Britain is overly regulated, the root cause may be that we are also far too moralistic and judgmental.

peter murrell

The French love affair with Scotland

France’s summer smash at the cinema is set to be a comedy called The Perfects. It opens next week with an all-star cast that includes Scottish actor Alan Cumming. The Perfects are a family of con-artists who flee France to escape the police and they end up in Scotland where madcap adventures in tartan ensue. It’s further proof that France can’t get enough of Bonnie Scotland. Films, television documentaries, newspaper features and even a puff piece earlier this month on the primetime lunchtime news about a visit to the most isolated pub in Scotland.  Billy Connolly once famously likened Scottish folk singers to ‘singing shortbread tins," churning out clichéd lyrics about mountains, heather and a Roamin' in the Gloamin.’ "Garbage!

scotland

In praise of Peter Murrell

When people ask me what my politics are, I have to explain that I support a dwindling faction you might call the Terry-Thomas wing of the Conservative party. This faction dominated the party in the 1980s – the kind of spivvy garagiste who, no sooner was your back turned, would knock down a row of medieval cottages to open a Hyundai dealership. There were probably a few too many of them in the 1980s. Today we need them back. Shakespeare depicts this archetype very well, possibly because (as a Brummie entrepreneur) he was one himself. He understood that you need a few chancers and opportunists around to make things happen. Where are they now? What could be better for Britain than to divert money from Scottish nationalism and spend it on the private sector instead?

Will the Tories win the Aberdeen South by-election?

From our UK edition

For all of the squabbling between Reform and Restore, the Right’s best chance at a by-election win on 18 June may not be in Makerfield, but 300-odd miles further north – in Aberdeen. The beneficiary wouldn’t be Nigel Farage or Rupert Lowe, but Kemi Badenoch’s Conservatives. The Tory candidate is now ‘quietly confident’ It’s unsurprising that this contest has been largely overlooked. My Westminster colleagues treat the suburbs of Manchester as being almost unfathomably distant, so the North Sea coast seems like an alien planet. But Aberdeen is also a city used to being ignored. According to the Centre for Cities, between 2010 and 2020, household incomes in the city fell by almost 7 per cent; between 2010 and 2023, it was one of only two cities in the UK to lose jobs.

What is ‘Q Manivannan’ doing in British politics?

In an age full of nepobaby second-generation politicians posing as "outsiders," new Green Party MSP "Q Manivannan" is the real thing. Indeed, the St. Andrew’s postgraduate is so much of an outsider that he doesn’t even hold British citizenship or permanent residency, and is unable to take up paid employment as a condition of his student visa. "Q" was allowed to stand for office last month because the Scottish government – the Wuhan Lab of terrible ideas in UK politics – recently changed the rules allowing foreigners with only limited leave to remain to compete in elections. Although Manivannan faced a probe into his visa, the powers-that-be ruled that being a politician wasn’t a real job.

‘Do you know the local MP?’ ‘Aye, she runs the sauna’: my Shetland dispatch

From our UK edition

The Shetland Islands The SNP have had better weeks. It’s strange to think that it was only this month that the party won a staggering fifth term in office, despite independence being no closer, and a record of failure on everything from education to drug deaths. Perhaps the most remarkable result for the SNP leader John Swinney was the election of Hannah Mary Goodlad in the Shetland Islands. Since 1950, this was the first time these islands had voted for someone other than the Liberals or Lib Dems. Goodlad triumphed after a vigorous campaign featuring windswept social media videos and three visits from Swinney; before her election, she ran an outdoor sauna business.

What did Nicola Sturgeon know?

From our UK edition

12 min listen

Peter Murrell, the SNP’s former chief executive and Nicola Sturgeon’s estranged husband, has admitted embezzling £400,000 in party funds. The guilty plea has revived questions about what senior figures in the SNP knew, how long the scandal had been going on, and what happens next. To discuss the story, including some of the ridiculous purchases including a couple of hairdryers (for a bald man) and £2600 salt and pepper shakers, James Heale and Michael Simmons join Megan McElroy.

Portrait of the week: Growth slows to zero, Scotland rejects assisted dying and Trump sends Marines to the Gulf 

From our UK edition

Home Sir Keir Starmer, the Prime Minister, spoke to President Donald Trump of America about the importance of reopening the Strait of Hormuz, but resisted his call for Britain’s ships to be sent there. The government considered sending British-made Octopus drone-interceptors to the Middle East. Sir Keir said £53 million would help a million households reliant on heating oil – £53 a household; ‘It’s moments like this that tell you what a government is about,’ he said. The economy showed zero growth in January, according to the Office for National Statistics. The ONS added alcohol-free beer to the basket of goods used to calculate inflation. John Lewis awarded staff a bonus for the first time in four years.

‘Evil visited that day and we don’t know why’ – Dunblane 30 years on

From our UK edition

Shortly after 9.30 a.m. on 13 March 1996, a man walked into the gymnasium at Dunblane Primary School, near Stirling, Scotland. He was armed with two 9mm Browning self-loading pistols, two .357 Smith & Wesson revolvers and 743 rounds of ammunition. Within three or four minutes, he’d fired 105 rounds, resulting in the deaths of a teacher, Gwen Mayor, and 16 children. A further three teaching staff and 14 children were injured. He then took his own life. It could have been a great deal worse.  There was a suspicion that he intended to kill most of the school’s 600 pupils but that he’d arrived a few minutes late for assembly, by which time most of the children had dispersed to their classrooms.

Does The Spectator hate the Welsh?

This St David’s Day weekend, I devote this column to a celebration of the world’s most under-appreciated ethnic group. Under-appreciated, certainly, in the pages of The Spectator, whose editorial policy suffers from a Pictish delusion that its readers are eager to hear of the appointment of a new procurator fiscal in Ayrshire, or political divides on Pitlochry council, while having zero interest in the finer country to the west. Sometimes mere exposure to Wales may be enough to inspire greatness, as in the work of Alfred Russel Wallace or Led Zeppelin Now in celebrating Wales, we need some ground rules. Since the Welsh are much more agreeable than other Celtic tribes, they are widely content to have sex with people from other cultures and ethnicities.

Stephen Flynn on Reform, Sturgeon & a second referendum

From our UK edition

26 min listen

The SNP’s Westminster leader Stephen Flynn, MP for Aberdeen South, joins Lucy Dunn for a special episode to assess the place of the SNP in British politics as we approach the end of 2025. The SNP were ‘decimated’ to just nine MPs at the 2024 general election – yet, if polls are to be believed, they are on course for another record win in the 2026 Holyrood elections. But can the SNP really frame this election as a ‘fresh start’? Flynn explains what he made of the ‘bleak fallout’ of 2024, why he is standing for election to Holyrood next year and what he makes of SNP heavyweights such as John Swinney and Nicola Sturgeon. Plus, could a push for a second independence referendum be on the cards soon? Produced by Patrick Gibbons and Oscar Edmondson.

Fact check: are the NYT’s experts right about UK immigration?

Yesterday’s release of immigration figures by Britain's Office of National Statistics didn’t make for particularly pleasant reading. While net migration had fallen to around 200,000 in the 12 months to June, much of this was down to an unusually high exodus of people, with 693,000 leaving the country over the same period. Many of those leaving were under the age of 30. That news, however, seemed to prompt something approaching gloating over at the New York Times, which published a piece yesterday headlined: "The British Public Thinks Immigration Is Up. It’s Actually Down, Sharply." To labor the point, the piece was accompanied by a picture of anti-migration protestors in Scotland. The not-so-subtle subtext being: what a bunch of gammon thickos the anti-migration lot are in the UK.

immigration

The cult of Powell & Pressburger’s I Know Where I’m Going! 

From our UK edition

I know where I’m going. I’m on the sleeper train chugging out of Euston and heading to Fort William. A wedding dress hangs on the wall in its transparent cover. I know from my printed itinerary that upon arrival at Fort William, there will be a car, then a ferry from Oban, and finally a gin and Dubonnet waiting for me at the Western Isles Hotel in Tobermory. But no one is getting married. Something much stranger than that is happening: an event that lies somewhere between a fandom convention and a secular pilgrimage. I’m on my way to the Outer Hebrides to celebrate the 80th anniversary of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger’s masterpiece I Know Where I’m Going!.

Cullen skink is comfort in a bowl

From our UK edition

They say not to judge a book by its cover – but what about judging a recipe by its name? Some sound like a disease or worse. Spotted dick, toad in the hole, lady’s fingers, Dutch baby, I’m looking at all of you. Cullen skink is one that has been accused of having an off-putting name. But in its defence, Cullen skink is descriptive. There’s a suggestion that the word ‘skink’ comes from an Old German word for ‘beer’ or ‘essence’, but given that Cullen skink is a creamy, thick soup, with no beer constituent and no obvious German connection, this seems an unlikely origin.

The brilliance of BBC Alba

From our UK edition

During lockdown, a friend and I moved into a flat that had a difficult relationship with the TV aerial. Ineptitude and laziness combined to ensure that the only channels we were able to watch were BBC ones via the iPlayer app. So most nights – if there was no live sport – we found that our entertainment was at the behest of the state broadcaster. And what a drag it was. Every time, we’d reject the populist crap on BBC1, the parochial crap on BBC2, the braindead crap on BBC3, the boring crap on BBC4, the insane crap on BBC News, the wrist-slashing crap on BBC Parliament. And then we’d get to the end of the nav bar, to see one option left, and my flatmate would put on a Scottish accent and say: ‘Alreet, what’s on Alba?

North Uist’s whisky is one to watch

From our UK edition

There are at least two Long Islands. One of them, eternally famous for The Great Gatsby, is a fascinating blend of glamour and meretriciousness. It is separated from the other one by 3,000 miles of ocean and a totally different culture. In this Long Island – actually about 70 islands of various sizes, also known as the Outer Hebrides – Sabbatarianism is frequent, but glamour and meretriciousness are as wholly absent as anywhere in Europe. Over many centuries, the Hebridean Long Island was often beset by conflict. Viking raiders, Scottish kings, great clan chiefs: all fought for supremacy. The Scottish Crown eventually won, though the clan chiefs exercised subsidiary kingships, until the old Highland order was broken after the defeat of Bonny Prince Charlie.

The Art of the Dealmaker-in-Chief

Who really thought Donald Trump’s America was about to join the stampede of first-world powers promising to recognize Palestine at the United Nations?  "Wow!" He exclaimed this morning on Truth Social. "Canada has just announced that it is backing statehood for Palestine. That will make it very hard for us to make a Trade Deal with them."  All over the world, commentators convinced themselves that Trump’s expression of concern on Monday about "real starvation" in Gaza meant he was pivoting with global opinion and against Israel.  It turns out, however, that Team Trump is not for turning when it comes to the Middle East. Marco Rubio, the US Secretary of State, has accused the countries now embracing Palestinian statehood of falling for "Hamas propaganda".

Trump deals

Raise the age of suffrage to 25

From our UK edition

If I had been given the vote at the age of 16, I would have put my cross beside the name of the Communist party candidate, assuming that he was not a tankie. If he was, I would have had to think long and hard; a left-wing Labour candidate might well have been preferable. I was a moderate within the CP, you see – a fan of the Italian Communist party leader, Enrico Berlinguer – and I had no time for the wretched Stalinists who, swaddled in dystopian nostalgia, comprised a broad rump of the British party. They were nicknamed tankies because they thoroughly approved of Soviet interventions in Hungary (1956) and Czechoslovakia (1968). I was what was then called a Eurocommunist. I knew my stuff too.

Exploring Edinburgh, from Princes Street to Pitlochry

I’m blinking through floor-to-ceiling windows that perfectly frame a pristine view of Edinburgh Castle, standing magnificent against an improbably cloudless Scottish sky. The elegant writing desk in the Archibald Signature Suite at 100 Princes Street hotel has all the makings of an elevated “work-from-home” set up, but the scenery – and the collection of aged single malt I know to be upstairs – make concentration an uphill battle. This luxury townhouse right on, you guessed it, iconic Princes Street was made for luxuriating, not hunching over laptops. Ducking into the entrance on Princes Street feels exclusive, like knowing a secret.

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