Stewart McDonald

There is no shortage of noise in contemporary politics, nor of people keen to confuse it with authority. Jeane Freeman, the former Scottish health minister who passed away this weekend, never did. She moved through political life with the calm confidence of someone who was always three steps ahead of any room she was in and entirely comfortable letting others catch up. This is not, however, to be confused with arrogance, of which she displayed not a hint. I came to know Jeane a little over the last few years, meeting every so often for coffee or lunch. I can’t claim we were close friends, but I always enjoyed those catch-ups. They were fun, full of gossip and the sort of dark humour that comes naturally to people who have spent too long watching their own party eat itself.

It’s difficult to imagine a more cautious revolutionary than John Swinney. When the First Minister was unexpectedly swept into Charlotte Square just one year ago – answering the call of a party in need of healing and direction in equal measure – few expected him to author a radical’s reset. The party of the late Alex Salmond’s braggadocio, Nicola Sturgeon’s sure-footedness and Humza Yousaf’s faltering optimism had turned, perhaps inevitably, to the reassuringly experienced veteran whose political style has been compared to that of a Blairgowrie bank manager.  When he returned to the frontline, some thought Swinney was to play the part of a political caretaker – a soothing interregnum before the next generation of SNP politicians step up.

If anything was going to make Donald Trump come around to supporting Ukraine in its war with Russia, ‘rare earth minerals’ – an issue of increasing geopolitical importance in the global competition with China – would not have made it to the top of most lists. Yet the US president has hinted this could be the key to the continuation of US investment in the nation as Russia’s war rages on. The proposal hasn’t impressed everyone – German chancellor Olaf Scholz has called the plan to make money from the war ‘selfish’ – but President Zelensky is open to the idea.

Last year, marking the tenth anniversary of Scotland’s independence referendum, I wrote an article for The Spectator looking at the state of Scotland’s political conversation and the prospects for the cause of independence a decade on from defeat.   After setting out why I thought MSPs ought to pass a budget that crossed the nationalist-unionist divide, softening the intense tribalism that has become a hallmark of parliamentary exchange, I also cast an eye forward to next year’s Holyrood election, in which no party is likely to have overall control. Recent polling trends show that Reform UK are hoovering up support from disillusioned Conservative and Labour voters alike, with Nigel Farage’s party likely to take seats in Scotland’s devolved legislature.

As the second Trump term looms in the near distance, it’s become a bit of a cliché to say that ‘a stopped clock is right twice a day’. Pinko liberal Nats like myself have had to get used to the fact that for all our disagreements with the man on policy and style, there are certain areas where we fundamentally agree.   Most prominently, it was after all Dòmhnall Iain (as his first cousins on Lewis would call him) who first really grasped the systemic challenge posed by China to Western states in his first term. As a member of the Inter Parliamentary Alliance on China (IPAC), it was with a wry smile that we noticed the quiet acquiescence of the Biden administration on that front even as it rolled back other Trump foreign policies.

After the general election skelping my party got in the July election, I was asked by Alex Massie (formerly of this parish) if I thought the SNP was in line to get horsed in the 2026 Holyrood election. I answered in the affirmative. Unless the party changed direction, then of course we would lose. Well, things look rather different now.  Since then, the mood within Scotland’s two dominant parties has changed dramatically. The SNP is the most upbeat it has been for a while while Labour’s sense of jubilant victory after its election landslide is tinged with vulnerability. The change in mood has been apparent in almost every conversation I’ve had with people from either side. If I had a pound for every campervan joke, I could probably compensate the WASPI women.

And so it seems that Scotland’s most prolific hotelier will return to the White House. Donald Trump has staged a political comeback that has torn up the normal rules of politics and sent shockwaves around the world. There are a great many reasons to be aghast at Trump’s return, but as he prepares to take up the Oval Office in just a few weeks, there is precious little time to get emotional. This is a time for hard-headedness. Understanding the importance of the Scotland-US relationship, Scotland’s First Minister John Swinney has written to the president-elect and offered his congratulations. Bristle at this though some might, it was the right thing to do. The US is an important market for Scotland and maintaining good relations is in our national interest.

In reflecting on the life of Alex Salmond, I should begin by paraphrasing his successor as First Minister, Nicola Sturgeon. I cannot pretend that the last few years of the breakdown in his relationship with the mainstream of the party he once led did not happen, but we cannot help but reflect on a remarkable political life. Salmond was central to the birth of the modern SNP. As former political editor of the Herald Murray Ritchie put it, he took an 'ill-disciplined, fractious and impecunious fringe party and established it as the dominant force in Scottish political life', noting: 'This in a country where Labour had been in control for half a century.

As we mark 10 years on from Scotland’s independence referendum, the entire political ecosystem in Scotland is engaged in attempts to define, or redefine, the narrative of that time. Those on my side of the independence argument remember a campaign of energy, optimism and positivity that is simply unmatched. It’s also the case that, for many on the pro-union side, they recall a divisive and hostile experience of the Yes movement. Both points of view can, of course, be true and are equally valid. Yet, it’s a uniquely Scottish curiosity that my side – ultimately, the losing side – speaks more fondly of that time than the actual winners. But this is Scottish politics, and normal rules don’t always apply here.